Or’west Office {During the Games w/Samara}

[Or'west]

Time Reference: During the games. From here.

---

I will tell him. Makkeneth acknowledged Valtinth. He then relayed Valtinth’s words to His with the dutiful word-for-word translation that he’d sent on Or’west’s original message.

The Weyrleader was almost to his office when the blue fire-lizard appeared again. He again offered the messenger his forearm, but did not stop to inspect the note. Instead, Starlight went for a ride with the Weyrleader whilst he continued his journey to his office. During which time, Or’west gave both Starlight and Rescue scraps of tunnelsnake. T’was when he arrived in his office and had the opprtunity for privacy that the Weyrleader looked at the Healer’s message to him. A crease furrowed his brow. He did not reply to the message this time, sending the blue fire-lizard off with an upward jerk of his arm, and a brief: “Tell your mistress to respond to the summons.” Though he wast sure the fire-lizard himself could not say anything to Sam, he knew fire-lizards capable of giving impressions.

I do not understand why Sam wastes hide on these trivial matters. Unlike the Healer, the Weyrleader was privy to her gender because of the report those at Southern Weyr gave him when she was initially meant to transfer to White Sands. I-Makkeneth wonder if they worry about the plague? No, there are other reasons. She was banished to our Weyr as punishment. Or’west shook his head and scoffed at the idea that sending someone to White Sands was a punishment. He had a feeling t'was was due to the Weyr’s reputation that riders became short-lived after moving to the southern most Weyr. Was she? Aye, but I do not know the details only that the Weyrleaders did not want her there anymore. I-Makkeneth think we should learn them. We will my friend, we will. Now, tell Valtinth again that they should come. Mention the plague is no longer an issue.

His mental tone reflecting his rider’s irritation, Makkeneth sent to his brown cousin again. I-Makkeneth say to Valtinth again that Mine wishes the three of you to come to the Weyr. Announce yourself as “new transfers” to the watch dragon. The Leadership lifted the quarantine on the Weyr. The plague does not trouble the riders anymore. Makkeneth shared a scene from the recent past of riders and other Weyrfolk gathered around a person in green who held a jar with yellow salve in it. The person in green spoke words but there was no sound in the scene. However, the humans reeled back from the stench of the salve, and Valtinth could all but taste its potent smell.

[Samara of Valtinth]

Sam Or’west’s office 1

She had pulled up her chair and was sitting resting her head on her arms on her desk, waiting for Or’west’s response, fighting back tears only mostly successfully. However when Starlight appeared with a pop and immediately landed on her shoulder and sent an impression of an irritated Or’west she didn’t have to look to know that he carried no message.

Valtinth faithfully relayed Makkeneth’s message, smell included and added with a tinge of worry in his tone Mine, Weyrleader Or’west and Bronze Makkeneth are frustrated with us. Perhaps we should do as they say.

Sam sighed and ran a hand through her silky black hair and she stood and pushed her chair aside and replied to Valtinth

I said I would. So I will.

She grabbed her favorite hairstick, the metal one with the three red stones expertly set into it from her best friend and pulled her hair up in a low bun that fit under her well worn riding helmet. Pulling her jacket and helmet on she jogged out and down the cliff path to the beach where Valtinth sat ready and waiting, his harness already on from a flight earlier to stretch his wings. Quickly she mounted up and they were soon high up then had gone between, appearing above White Sands Weyr.

Valtinth did as they were told, telling the watchrider that they were new transfers and were headed to meet with the Weyrleader. The watchrider let them in without a fuss. They landed off to one side away from the gathering of people in the bowl. Avoiding people and with Starlight’s help Sam made her way to the Weyrleader’s office and stood in the doorway. With a calm voice and a relaxed stance that hid the terror and grief that gripped her she asked

“Weyrleader Or’west? May I come in?”

[Or'west]

Some twenty minutes passed between sending the message and the healer appearing at his doorway. He’d expected at least some time gap for e’en their mighty dragons needed to launch into the air and the meager riders had but feeble legs to rush to and from one place and the other. Patient as he was, the Weyrleader merely studied Threadfall charts as he waited. After a brief consideration, he asked Makkeneth to relay another message for him. This time to the queen Syndoreth. Dutifully, the bronze reached his mind toward the golden dragon’s thoughts. He sent to her: I-Makkeneth say that mine wishes yours to come to his office. There is a matter that he wants yours to attend. It is about a potential new rider-healer.

Sam and Valtinth found the Weyrbowl rife with the activity and the chaos of the on-going games. Colorful streamers adorned the area. People gathered in groups to watch or participate in the events. General laughter and frivolity echoed on the walls. From somewhere, music played. The aromas of fresh bread and roasting meat added another layer of celebration to the festivities. They had to land on the ledge of one of the lower weyrs or on the shores of the Weyrlake. The watchrider, green Jindyth, announced the new arrivals to Makkeneth with a querulous tone in her voice. Makkeneth reassured Jindyth that yes, all was well.

When she arrived, finally, at his doorway, she found the tall Weyrleader standing with his hands behind his back. He faced the massive Threadfall chart that dominated one wall of the sparsely furnished office. “Fair skies to you. At last we meet. Of course, come in. Sit down. I trust your flight went well?” He said in his rich baritone as he turned to her and gestured to the only ‘guest’ chair. His gaze slid over his eyes and after crossing to his desk, he produced a handkerchief from one fo the drawers to offer it to her. “I don’t think that reddness around your eyes is due to the flight."

[Samara of Valtinth]

It felt wrong to lie to the Weyrleader, no he was her Weyrleader. She was a part of White Sands Weyr. Or at least that was what she told herself. She just wanted to go home, and not to her cave, she wanted her weyr at Southern back and she longed for her mother’s soothing voice and warm embrace. It would take quite a while for her to truly feel at home here. But instead of saying that she simply took the handkerchief, sat on the chair cross legged and said plainly and with very little emotion

“Our flight went well, thank you sir.”

Sam did not acknowledge the comment on her tear stained face and puffy eyes, she would much rather deal with her emotions alone. She also didn’t bother to disguise her voice as she usually did when around others. Or’west knew she was a woman and not a teenage boy so there was no need to. How much he knew of her situation however she was unsure of. She shifted a bit and looked past Or’west’s shoulder trying very hard to hide her discomfort but still appear to be paying attention and not look as intimidated and helpless as she felt. After all the last time she had been in a Weyrleader’s office she had been cast from her home, family, workspace, and friends. Or rather friend. She really only had two, and the one she only knew from letters and was now dead. Pausing just a moment and somehow keeping emotion out of her tone she asked

“If I may sir, why did you summon me here? You could have simply told me of Lyxias’ death over a letter or even simply via dragon. I much prefer to deal with messy things like emotions alone.”

[Or'west]

“Excellent.” The Weyrleader replied with a nod and sat at his desk. He pressed his lips together into a thin line at her lack of response to the suggested question, but said naught about it. No response was better than lying. Or’west had little doubt she surmised the reason for Master Lyxias lack of responses on her own accord; however, he could only hazard a guess. Her next words proved his guess right.

“I do not like delivering serious or bad news over messages or via dragon. As you have surmised, our Master Lyxias succumbed to the plague that the two of you work together to cure. This is why I summoned you here. It is time for you to take your proper station at White Sands Weyr. Now, more than ever, this is imperative. We have no human Healer at the Weyr higher than an apprentice. Though Master Ja’ryns is here, he cannot be both a dragonhealer and a human healer. Nor is his skill set adequate to deal with more complicated human ailments or more serious conditions, for example, the plague or a pregnancy.”

He opened the top drawer of his desk and pulled forth a closed jar. Offering Sam the screw-lid jar, he added: “This was the result of your collaboration. Apply it everywhere. It is not a cure. It is a preventive. Unfortunately, the plague is still out there, but with the help this salve, we should not have another outbreak.” He closed the drawer with his free hand. If she had not taken the jar by the time he finished speaking, he simply placed the item in front of her.

"You can deal with your emotions alone. In your new weyr. No one will trouble you there. I give you leave to begin your duties on the morrow. Take today to deal with the messy things and new situation. If you do feel social, there are Weyr games happening today. There is no obligation to participate or attend.” Or’west folded his hands in front of him. “I know White Sands is usually not the place people want to transfer. I also understand that the conditions of your transfer were… less than ideal. Rest assured, no one except myself knows the true reason that a new Healer transferred to White Sands. We do need one and that is all anyone else need know. I will leave telling the Weyrwoman and Ja’ryns to your discretion."

[Samara of Valtinth]

(Content Warning: Brief depression and suicidal ideations)


A series of emotions flashed through her at the Weyrleader’s words; Fear at people finding out who she was and what she had supposedly done. Anger at having to be here in the first place. Fear of people telling the powerful friends and family of her former Wingleader that she hadn’t disappeared as they had told her to. Grief at losing her friend. Fear of aggravating the man who literally held her life in his hands by saying the wrong thing. Worry for her family. Longing for someone she knew and felt comfortable with. A sense of duty to the Weyr. And a deep longing to go home. But of these grief stood out as the strongest. She was alone here. She had hoped that she would at least have a friend here.

While normally she was good at keeping emotions inside and putting on a happy front, she just couldn’t right now. Not well at least. She sighed before speaking, not trying to appear to meet Or’west’s eyes anymore and instead looking down at the jar of salve and gently running one finger around the rim of the lid, it had been pungent to say the least. Her voice came out with a bit of a stammer and far softer than she had intended when she did speak a moment later.

“I-I’m glad Lyxias was able to use what I sent them, and I appreciate your faith in me, but wi-with all due respect sir, why not just ask the hall to send another healer?” She dropped her hand from the jar to Starlight curled up on her lap, stroking him softly and with a greater tremor in her voice that betrayed how close she was to tears she continued “I-I am a danger to the the W-Weyr. My work is-is a danger to the people a-around me. I am a danger to my fa-family if anyone fi-finds out who I a-am and tells the Southern people who would prefer me dead. A-and I am not a very g-good healer. I s-study toxic plants. I-I’m not good with people.”

Those were the dark, ugly thoughts that kept her up at night, the thoughts that she should press down. They had come to the forefront of her mind and come out of her mouth. She knew deep down that they weren’t true. But that didn’t stop them from intruding, from dominating her thoughts, and definitely didn’t stop her repeating them. She was a failure. A hopeless failure. A useless, worthless, hopeless failure. Maybe Weyrleader Or’west would realize that and just send her back to Southern. She would likely die a horrific death, but maybe the world would be better off without her? Then a deep warm voice came with the sense of a deep love and interrupted her dark stream of thoughts.

”I quite like the world with you in it. A world without you would not be worth living in. You are not a failure. You are loved. Perhaps this will be good for us. And perhaps you will make a friend or two here? ”

Sam sniffled lightly and sent back a feeling of affection. She couldn’t give up, not with Valt here. But that didn’t make the desire to go away.

[Or'west]

Her new Weyrleader knew none of her warring emotions. He sat across from her and waited for her response. The tell-tale glaze of speaking to her dragon caused him to wait longer. He knew there was much emotion wrapped up on the news of Lyxias’ death. It tore at his soul as much as anyone’s yet, he did not show it. He did not allow it to control his emotions. He could not alllow such a thing when the Weyr depended on him. The arrangement he had with Ja’ryns and Ariana meant the Weyr still depended on him as it had for countless decades. This pleased him and gave him purpose.

When her emotions broke, Or’west felt gratitude rather than regret. T’was good that she allowed herself to release. Hate? Anger? Sorrow? He did not care. He would rather see and deal with the genuine emotion no matter what it was than a happy front. He knew those who felt depressed oft place this barrier between themselves and the world. If his soldiers deceived him, deceived themselves, what use did he have for them? He needed the truth. Genuine people ready to fight Thread with him. Not pretenders.

The Weyrleader waited until the Weyr’s new Healer got her senses back. He allowed her time she needed to bring up words. He kept his hands folded as she warred with herself - and perhaps her dragon. He watched her slide her fingers along the rim of the jar. Even with the lid closed he could smell the salve. Or, perhaps, t’was the salve upon his body that he smelled.


When she finally spoke, he did not interrupt her. It was only after she expressed all her morbid emotions that he replied to her. “I did not ask the hall to send another healer because your former Weyr wanted you 'banished’ to White Sands.” Contempt rose into his tone. Not for her, but for the circumstances of her transfer and the disgust he felt for her former Weyrleaders. For the idea that being transferred to White Sands was some kind of punishment. “There was no reason to ask for a different Healer.”

He sat straighter in his chair. "Those people at Southern seem to believe that being sent to White Sands is some kind of punishment.” He scoffed. “I tell you that I believe the opposite. I believe only the strongest can serve here. Only the strongest and best dragonriders can fight the Thread that falls around the Erdan Island Chain. Therefore, you are one of the strongest.”

He stared at her and if she looked up, she’d find that their gazes locked. It didn’t matter to him if she looked away or down at the jar or anywhere else. "Rest assured, you were instrumental in making this salve happen. Without your knowledge of poisonous herbs, none of this would be possible. You saved countless lives throughout the archipelago. As a master of toxicology you may instead of mourning the fact that you are here relish it as a rare opportuity to study what has never been studied. We have many toxic plants on the archipelago. I am sure you can find uses for them. Or, identify them better than other island healers could ever do. The choice is yours.”

He unfolded his hands and put them palms flat on his desk as he looked down at her. “Circumstances aside, you have been transferred to White Sands. No one but the two of us knows about the why. I don’t care about your past. I care about your present and future, both of which are with White Sands. What others thought of you in the past or think of you now is not my concern. It is no longer your concern. You are safe here. Any attempt on your life - on the life of anyone at White Sands Weyr - will be met with harsh words and definitive action. It will not be tolerated."

A modicum of sadness washed through his tone. He knew moving to a different Weyr troubled those who did. He was not without emotions only wanted to emphasize the idea of the positive aspects of a new life. "Your family, unfortunately, is far away… which is exactly what your former Weyr wanted. They decided this was the best place for you to stay away from your former troubles. Your mooning over it will not make the reasons go away, only enhance them until they drive you - and your dragon - to insanity. Leave them to rest in the past as they should be. They do not control you. Should not control you. Those people at Southern made their decision. It is their loss. They are in your past. Do not allow them to control your future."

"Everyone has self-doubts. Everyone feels they are inadequate for their position. Even I believed that when I - long ago - first became Weyrleader. The only way to get through these doubts is to move forward. You are part of White Sands Weyr now. As a new transfer, you may feel alone. I understand that. We have a lot of transfers, some recent."

"Our harper, Kira, is so recent she has yet to see the Weyr. We expect her to arrive today. There is one among them who is also a transfer from the Southern continent - An’zell of the white dragon Speranth. He was from Monaco Bay Weyr. When he first came to us, he felt very alone. I do not know how he feels now. Perhaps, you can ask? Another transfer - Ariana and gold Syndoreth, the Werywoman herself - is from the far northern reaches of Pern and High Reaches Weyr. She travelled an entire world to transfer here. I recommend seeking her out too. I am sure she will be able to advise you on how to intergrate yourself. You may not feel like interacting with any of them. However, rest assured that you are not alone in the cadre of transfers. I cannot give you more solace than that. Only gift you with the knowledge that you are not the only transfer here. And, with a dragon - and a Weyr that will ne’er turn you away - you are not alone.”

[Samara of Valtinth]

Sam listened as Weyrleader Or’west spoke. A spike of panic hit her at the sudden contempt in his tone, but it quickly subsided as she realized it was not pointed at her, in fact he had a lot of faith in her. He was angry for her. He didn’t care about the charges laid against her. He cared about her as more than just a healer who could serve the Weyr. That alone was enough to bring more moisture than she cared for to her eyes.

The truth of the matter was that she did want to explore the plants of these islands, she was interested in cataloging the island speciation on the Erdan island chain. He was right, she wasn’t completely alone, she had Valt, she could make friends. Maybe this wouldn’t be a bad thing. Maybe here would be different. The bits of moisture at the corners of her eyes had turned to a fairly steady stream of tears running down her face by time he had finished speaking and the handkerchief he had handed her was now soaked. Sam’s words were choked a bit as she spoke saying

“Th-thank you Weyrleader, sir. Y-your kind words are m-much appreciated. I-I will do my best to not disappoint.” Sam took a deep and kind of shaky breath to steady herself before asking tentatively “Th-that’s a lot, of faith to put in someone you know very little about. Do you have a-any questions f-for me?”

[Or'west]

Her choking, stumbling words stabbed his heart. He stood up and went ‘round the desk that divided them. He perched on the edge of his desk. Gentle his touch upon her shoulder as with a light squeeze he gave her a silent reassurance while she released those words of gratitude. So hard for her. So much anguish and relief wrapped up in a few simple sentences. “Sam. No one, dragonrider or not, should feel so alone. Should feel so unloved and unwanted. I know as much about you as I need to know. Anymore is up to you to give me.”

The Weyrleader smiled. “And, if you do disappoint we can ‘banish’ you back to your old Weyr.” He cut his potentially harsh words with a sudden laugh and he squeezed her shoulder again. “I jest. I have no intention of sending anyone anywhere. You’re here to stay.” Or’west filled his words with kindness that he felt and his smile reached his eyes as he looked down at her. “I’m glad you’re here. Our fighting force is sparse and we need every ‘rider. I have faith in you because you trusted me with your sincerity. Laid bare to me emotions that took everything for you to show to a stranger. I have faith in you because you are a dragonrider. When Thread falls, dragonriders Rise. I have no doubt you’ll be one of those who rises to fight it with me. I hope you will find a home here. New friends. Perhaps a new family.”

“I don’t have questions for you at the moment, no. If I think of one, Makkeneth will reach out to Valtinth or I shall seek you out. I do have more information about your new position. You will find an office down this corridor that has the healer’s mark on it. That is your office now. What you do with it is up to you. Master Lyxias liked to ‘keep office’ in the Healers ward. As does Master Ja’ryns with whom you share the ward. You also have two - ” His dark brows strove to be together as his forehead furrowed and doubt riddled his tone. “ - apprentices. Minerva and Jarinn. Both apprentice level one. Oh! And - Altair. He's AP two if memory serves."

[Samara of Valtinth]

Or’west was nothing like the Weyrleader of Southern, in fact he reminded Sam quite a lot of her father, stern but loving. Or at least with her and their family he was that way. Most people considered her father odd at the least, the collection of skulls and bones as the colony of beetles to clean corpses down to bones in just a few days tended to be off putting. But he was a master at working with precious metals and inlay work and had shared his passion with his daughter. Sam could have been a smith in her father’s tracks, but toxins always had interested her more, and now it was simply a hobby. One that she was very good at, but just a hobby. A hobby that funded itself mind you, with her being able to sell the finished products for more than the materials cost and have a good bit left over. It was nice to have a silver tongued friend with the ability to sell things to people really well. Her smithing had funded a good portion of her research and her savings had helped a great deal to set up a rudimentary lab at the cavern on Robtin island and to begin getting back her collection of poisonous plants. Though some were irreplaceable and were now gone forever.

Thinking about her father, the gentle yet firm hand on her shoulder and the kind words that accompanied it brought Sam a lot of peace. When Or’west mentioned apprentices however, a spike of panic went through her that displayed itself clearly. Sam didn’t have the emotional strength to hide anything right now. The last apprentice who had been under her guidance had nearly killed himself “helping” and accidentally set a good portion of her lab on fire. Teaching people was not her strong suit, and judging by Or’west’s tone they were not particularly competent as far as apprentices went either. But she could at least teach them the basics of being a healer, as well as basics of foraging and botany. It had been her master’s firm belief that everyone should know at least what to avoid and what could be safely eaten.

It took a moment after Or’west finished talking for her to be able to respond without her breath hitching in her throat and choking her. When she finally was able to respond more calmly, Sam took a deep breath, looked up from Starlight’s curled up form in her lap, somewhat made eye contact and said quietly but resolutely

“I need you to know I did not kill Wingleader. I may hate him with every fiber of my being for raping and nearly killing my foster sister and think the world is far better off without him, but I did not have a hand in his death any more than having grown the plants that he consumed to cause his demise.”

Sam’s eyes dropped again. Eye contact took a lot of emotional energy that she did not have at the moment. Well that and she was a bit afraid of her new Weyrleader’s reaction. Despite that, she found words tumbling out of her mouth quietly but quickly.

“I’ve plead that sentiment so many times before and very few believed me. Most of those who believed me were too scared to speak up in my behalf. Only Valt, my best friend and blood family stuck by my side resolutely. Even my grandparents, most of my foster siblings and the master healer who trained me turned against me in the end.“

Sam sent a feeling asking Starlight to move and the little blue crawled up to her shoulders. She then put her heels on the seat and held her knees tight.


“I’ll likely never see most of my family again, they were all reassigned who knows where. There is a good chance my best friend will be an outcast for the rest of his life, though I do hugely appreciate his help with getting a rudimentary lab set up and bringing me some plants, but my life’s work was destroyed. My former Wingleader destroyed most of my plants and his supporters seized my lab and research journals as evidence and they were likely destroyed after the mockery of a trial.”

Sam sighed, the panic was now gone and she didn’t have the energy to bother with anger or even hopelessness, she was completely wiped out and it came across in her monotonous and emotionless tone.

“Thank you again for your kindness and patience with me. It’s been a long time since anyone but my best friend and blood family were kind. The trial went on for nearly six months and a good portion of Southern got more and more antagonistic towards me as it went on. I can’t say it was the entire Weyr but it sure felt like it. If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to keep my primary garden on Robtin island for the safety of the Weyr. I’ll likely use the office as a laboratory for the more deadly things I need to deal with to keep the ward safer. I have the funds to obtain more lab equipment and I can find more plants. I can likely take at least one apprentice at a time with me on expeditions to collect more plants and help them to gain field knowledge. That is if I’m allowed to leave the Weyr.” Sam looked up from her knees for a moment and gave the appearance of eye contact by looking at Or’west’s shoulder and asked “Am I allowed to leave the Weyr? I’d be fine if I need an escort or something, it would be nothing new. I won’t leave, I have nowhere else to go now.”

That last sentence was spoken with a great deal of sadness attached to it.

[Or'west]

He stayed still as he listened. Not a head shake or a condensing word. Not a twitch or a grimace. He was there when she made eye contact, but didn’t press her. When she used the word ‘hate’, his brows drew together and a deep furrow carved wrinkles in his forehead, but he continued to remain silent. He listened to her lament about the trial and consequent punishment. Once again, the idea of being “banished” to White Sands insulted him. When she finished, he squeezed her shoulder gently again.

“Thank you for trusting me with that information.” Or’west replied with a neutral tone. “I will leave it to your discretion to tell anyone else the details of your situation, and the entire truth behind your transfer to White Sands.” Since he mentioned prior that only they two knew about the Incident with the Wingleader and all that transpired at Southern, the Weyrleader didn’t repeat the details or acknowledge that only they knew. He trusted Sam’s intellect enough she’d recall what he said only moments before.

About her request to leave her lab on the remote island, the Weyrleader shook his head. In a firm tone, he said, “I do mind. Robton is no place for your garden. Robton is meant for the animals and native plants. We cannot risk your plants escaping into the island’s ecosystem. We’ll recreate your lab. You can recreate your garden here, at the Weyr, where it will be safe from harm. No one will bother it. We will set aside an area in or near the Weyr for you. Tell me what plants you need, and if they are beyond the archipelago, we’ll have An’zell and Speranth fetch them. The white rider knows the geography of the Southern continent too. He is trust-worthy and will not question the ‘why’, only the ‘what’. For your safety, I don’t want you to leave the Erdan archipelago for a while. Too many people wish you dead for you experiments.” He patted her shoulder again and then, stood up.

“I know, it is not the same as the Turns you spent creating it, but now is the time to start again.” He scoffed at her request. “Of course you can leave the Weyr. I ask only that you tell someone where you’re going - tis the same procedure I ask of all the dragonriders here. Go, explore your new home. For your safety, you should consider staying on the Erdan archipelago for now.” He repeated to reaffirm his request that was as much that as a command.


I-Makkeneth say that we had a transfer request for a brown from Southern. Is it her aforementioned friend?

“Ah! Makkeneth reminds me that we have another transfer request from Souhtern Weyr. A brown rider. Is it your friend? I believe K’del is his name... If I approve his transfer, I must insist that you reach outside your comfort zone and do your best to interact with others besides your friend. We are a family here. We all support each other. The Weyr is too small for cliques that remain solely to themselves. This is also not a good practice for someone who has appfrentices thst look to her.”

[Samara of Valtinth]

Sam’s face brightened and her body relaxed more and more as Or’west spoke, and she wound up with a soft almost smile with her arms just loosely wrapped around her knees at the end. A little embarrassed she said

“I did not consider the plants spreading outside containment. Thank you for remembering that. That could be disastrous.”

She absolutely should have thought of that. Even in her contained gardens she had had issues with some plants staying where they should.

“And thank you for permission to leave the Weyr. I look forward to exploring and meeting the people here, especially those who transferred here that you mentioned and my new coworkers and while it will be a lot of work I look forward to rebuilding. As far as K’del goes, yes he is my best friend, he also is more often than not the one who drags me out to meet people and do things.”

A nervous chuckle escaped her before she said

“I tend to get absorbed in whatever project I’m doing at the moment. Oh that reminds me, I finished this this morning before trying to send the letter to Lyxias.”

She dropped her feet to the ground and dug through one of her pants pockets with an odd assortment of items in it for a small box lined with purple satin. In it was a delicate silver bracelet in the shape of a firelizard with folded wings with its tail wrapped around the wrist with two small faceted emeralds as the eyes. It wasn’t a master’s work, but it was clearly done with skill and precision. She took the lid off and held out the box to the Weyrleader saying

“You can have it if you would like, if it’s not to your taste I’m sure it would make a good gift to someone. It’s not my father’s work by a long shot but I think it’s pretty.”

[Or'west]

As soon as the smile appeared upon her features, Or’west encouraged it with a smile of his own. “Indeed, it could be dangerous. This is why we’ll prevent it. I am sure we can find an adequately secluded area to use as your garden, and build a small containment building to prevent any floating seeds from wandering into the surrounding landscape.” Though Or’west made a mental note of her opinion about K’del, he didn’t pursue the matter further. He’d go over the transfer request again after seeing Sam and Valtinth settled in their new weyr.

The Weyrleader peered down curiously as he watched her dig through her backpack, his brows lifted with the intrigue of the moment. Yet, he drew back visibly at the offer of the gift. The sheer shock of such a gesture touched him and his features creased further with a surprised smile. He reached for the box and the bracelet, lifting the lovely piece from its resting place. He turned the circlet over as he admired its finer details and the gems set within it. You’re too kind, and you’re too humble. This is beautiful workmanship. Thank you. I know many a person here who would be honored to wear your jewelry - if our Healer feels like making a few more marks for herself, you’d have a worthy side business.”

I-Makkeneth think it is too small for me. He sounded genuinely disappointed and Or’west chuckled softly as he set the bracelet back into its box. Yes, you’re right. Maybe we can ask her to make you a bigger one? We should. Or’west chuckled again. “Makkeneth expressed his disappointment the bracelet is too small for him.” He held the box in one hand. "Hm… as I recall there are two Weyrlings who have family ties to miners. Perhaps we can arrange for them to bring you something for your pieces.” His gaze lifted from the bracelet to Sam’s eyes. “Or as a gift for your father. Gems and precious minerals from the Erdan chain should help increase his profit neatly. I can introduce you to them when - and if - you’re ready. However, for now, focus on settling into White Sands. Is there anything else I can address? If you’re ready, I can show or direct you to your new living quarters.”

[Samara of Valtinth]

Sam simply nodded at Or'west's words about containing a garden. Though she missed her garden at Southern, she had managed to save some of the plants that had been in pots and not in her greenhouse. Mostly harmless plants, ones that were good for tea or medicine or that had sentimental value. The most dangerous among them was a single white oleander start from her formerly beautiful although small bush . Even that was unlikely to kill someone as the plant while toxic tasted incredibly bitter and a very diluted extract could be used to treat tachycardia and some seizures.

She felt a pang of sadness when Or’west drew back, thinking perhaps that he thought it poor workmanship and took it as an insult. However at her Weyrleader’s compliment she felt her face redden just a hair as relief washed over her and mumbled a “Thank you sir.”

Considering her words for a moment before she spoke in reply, Sam shifted to place one foot on the ground and have the other crossed over so her foot was free to bob softly and said “I would love to have a local source of precious metals, though I am not very good at lapidary work so I prefer to get already cut gems. I am sure father would also greatly appreciate new business partners. As for the bracelet for Makkeneth, I should be able to make something similar for him, I made a necklace set for Alayth and Weyrwoman Ashla. But for now I would much appreciate you directing me to my new quarters, I’ll begin bringing my things over.”

[Or'west]

“Hm… cut gems. I will ask the Weyrlings if they know anyone. Or, if you’re feeling brave, you can ask them yourself. You’ll need to know everyone at the Weyr eventually, being their new Healer.” He glanced down at her bobbing foot and then returned his focus to her still-troubled features. He noted the weariness that clung to her and sensed her still pensive emotions. It had been a trying day for her, of this he had no doubt. “Worry not about that for now, Samara. We can discuss those business matter later once I’ve looked into what resources we have available to us.” He made a mental note to reach out to P’tro and V’lan to figure out what kind of connections they had with the mining operations around the Erdan.

“Of course,” he nodded at her request to find her quarters. Opening one of the drawers in his desk, he withdrew a small stylus and a simple map of White Sands Weyr. The map iincluded labels for the weyrlake, hatching grounds and the Star stones. Four tiers adorned the Weyr’s interior. Multiple circles lined each tier. Next to or on top of each circle - depending on the size - were two names. A rider and a dragon. A handful had four names - places where weyrmates lived. The well-worn hide had numerous places where names had been erased and written over, evidence of residents moving into or out of the various weyrs. He spread the map on his desk and held down a rebellious corner with his right hand and the still-open box to secure another.

Using the stylus, he pointed out her name next to weyr nine on Tier Three. “I put you here, next to B’rioth and Oreoleth. Those two are as close to an official welcoming committee as White Sands possesses.” Or’west murmured a soft chuckle of amusement. He paused and shifting his gaze from the map to Samara again, he added, “Perhaps one or both of your apprentices can assist with your move? It would be an excellent way to get to know them.”

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[ooc - Text in purple links to the weyr assignments thread]