Post by pandoraMisfit on Nov 12, 2009 19:27:51 GMT -5
~ Silvate ~
Weyr: Solainoti
Rank: Candidate
Pronunciation: Sil-vah-tay
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Age: 21 Turns
Family:
Father: Selloran of blue wher Selsk
Mother: Unknown/forgotten
Foster-mother: Riella, personal helper to Wherhandler Kyara
Birthplace: Rias Hold
Appearance: Silvate’s skin is fairly pale, as one would expect having lived in the cold climate of the Northern continent for all of her life, although she does not have the soft peaches and cream complexion that many of the girls she grew up with sport. Instead, her skin is a porcelain hue, with cheeks that are prone to blushing when she is embarrassed or angry. Having visited the South only twice in her life, she knows that the sun doesn’t agree with her complexion, causing her to burn rather than tan. If she was more active during the daylight hours, working out in the open would probably cause her skin to darken up slightly, to a more natural tone from exposure to the sun and wind, but as it is, her nocturnal nature ensures that the ethereal pallor to her skin won’t be disappearing any time soon.
Her eyes are a deep mahogany hue, deep brown with a slight reddish-brown tint to them. Over this dark base, the iris is flecked with a lighter shade of copper, though this isn’t very noticeable unless you get right up close – which is something you really wouldn’t want to do with Silvate if you wanted to keep your teeth straight. Her eyes possess no dark or light right around the edge of the iris, nor much variation is colour other than the flecks that are hard to spot; so from a safe distance, glancing at her eyes would show you a sort of plain brown colour, at least in her right eye. The left is a milky white-blue colour, blind and unseeing to the world. Three faded red scars run down her face, from her eyebrow to just under her cheek bones, the edges ragged and torn looking. This isn’t an old wound, although the care she has put into looking after it makes it look a lot more mature than it really is. There was a lot of nerve damage to the eye itself, but surprisingly little of the tissue around it, meaning that she can open and close her eye practically normally, although the scar tissue has caused a small loss in elasticity of the skin. Thankfully, her foster mother was able to get a healer to tend to her almost immediately after the incident that caused the wound, meaning that other than the scarring, there isn’t terribly much physical damage that is evident; if left unattended, infection could have developed and the left side of her face may have been much more deformed. Her sight is obviously affected, but she just gets on with it. Due to the loss of sight in her left eye, the right eye is getting stronger every day, so she is able to carry on with every day life pretty normally. She refuses to be treated any differently than a person with both working eyes as she refuses to see it as a handicap and in fact, can still get many jobs done quicker than the average person. Both eyes are a large oval shape, set a little farther apart than is deemed ‘beautiful’, and are framed by almost black lashes. Her eyelashes aren’t long and flamboyant naturally, and she doesn’t much care, just as long as they are there and keeping dust out of her working eye.
The rest of her face is pretty plain, not much to look at, but she doesn’t care. She hates any male attention and the less she attracts from her physical looks, the better in her mind. Her lips are quite narrow, giving her a harsh sort of look, not that she needs them to. They are a much pinker shade than the rest of her skin, and are perhaps the only thing about her face that draws the attention of an onlooker away from her scars. Her eyebrows are set in a perpetual scowl over her eyes, with and are manicured so that they are thin to stay in keeping with this. Her nose is nothing special, being fairly average in shape and size – not so big that it overpowers her face and not so small that her eyes look out of proportion. Her face is fairly rounded, which is suited to her current hairstyle, despite it not being a style at all.
Silvate cuts her hair herself, not much caring whether it looks messy or not and the length is generally kept just above her shoulders. Her original reason for hacking of her hair was to stop people fawning over her long tresses, but unknown to her, the shorter length actually suits her a lot better than longer hair ever did. Her parting is slightly off centre, so a section of hair on the left side of her face sweeps across her face, partially hiding her blind eye. No matter how many times she tucks it behind her ear tough, it always seems to fall back into place, serving only to aggravate her. Sure it would be perfect if she wanted to hide her deformity, but this is far from the case. Despite having periods of self doubt, she couldn’t care less about what she looks like, and so wouldn’t give a damn if the most important person in the world saw and was disgusted. The length is much too short to be captured by a tie, and clips just slide out because the hair itself is so fine; Silvate just leaves it as it is, after all it is short enough to not bother her even on the windiest of days. Despite the fine nature of her hair, the cropped length of it means that the body of it is a lot thicker and fuller than you would expect, especially for hair that is hacked off on a regular basis. Her hair is a deep auburn colour, although it is much more of a brown hue than red, though she does have mahogany undertones running through. When the sun catches it, this is more obvious as the light reflects the red tint to the brown, but it isn’t terribly often you’d see this woman out in broad daylight. If she had the chance, it is more than likely that she would dye it much darker, but the hassle of keeping it that colour would probably be more than the whole effect was worth.
Losing herself in physical work has helped to tone this young woman up considerably, as has working with strong whers since childhood. Somehow she has retained a feminine figure, although her muscles are far from subtle. She hasn’t ever been keen on indolence as a few girls she could mention have been, and this shows in that there is hardly an ounce of fat on her body. Weighing in at 132 pounds, which seems like quite a high figure for someone with a height of only 5’5”, unless you take into account that she is about as strong as most miners are after years of doing their job. Silvate sports the beginnings of a six pack, lean muscle rippling underneath her skin whenever she moves that has been both admired and ridiculed. Some say it makes her look extremely attractive and others find it vaguely disgusting, saying it better befits a man than a woman. Regardless, she doesn’t care what people say, in true Silvate style. Her legs are long and strong, the calf muscles hinting at a huge amount of power. To keep them this way, she runs at least a league (a league being only 3 miles in case some people are a bit
at this) every morning while the sun is still down and the same again before she goes to sleep to maintain peak physical condition. Other boggle at this feat, but she just shrugs it off. Miraculously, with all of this muscle, she hasn’t lost mass off her bust line, like a lot of muscular women are prone to doing. No, she is lucky enough to have the terran equivalent of a 34D (US 34C) bust, although she sees them as somewhat of an annoyance – after all, they do get in the way when you are working and are particularly irritating when you are running. The rest of her figure… well it isn’t exactly hourglass, what with all the muscle, but she would hate it if she did, after all, why look voluptuous when the only thing you want is for people to stay away?The clothing she wears is typically the dress of a man – trousers and a shirt. This is more of a want than a necessity, although it does prove a lot more practical to wear trousers rather than skirts when you are working with animals on a daily basis. However, when indulgence gets the best of her, she will put on a dress or at the very least a long skirt to go with one of her nicer shirts. She loves the luxurious feel of expensive fabrics, but has put a curb on that excess, feeling it will only lead her to want more of the nicer things in life, like the fat lazy daughters of lord holders. Her favourite colours to wear are dark blood reds, the same colour that Silvask’s wings used to be, and also deep blues to contrast with her delicate skin tone.
Personality: The bitter nature that is more that evident in this girl is due to a dark resentment she holds for a woman named Kyara. She believes with all of her heart that if this woman hadn’t meddled with the clutch her wher had been hatched from, that Silvask would still be around today. The death of her watchwher has left Silvate withdrawn and hating of the world around her, the light and joy stolen from her, without cause as she believes.
However, she wasn’t always like this. As a child, Silvate was kind and caring, willing to help anyone, especially if it was to do with the whers. Well mannered and courteous, she was a pleasure to be around, always making jokes and her laughter bubbled out like water from a stream almost as often as she breathed. Although occasionally she would let loose a nasty comment or two, usually she was one of the sweetest girls that could have been met. Nothing would stop her from smiling, although you would never have guessed it if you met the Silvate of today.
Nowadays, it is rare that she will let a smile pass from her lips, even if she does find something amusing or if she is genuinely happy. Half of her personality is cultivated to keep people away. She thinks that if she allows anyone to become close to her again, they will be cruelly torn away before their due time, just like Silvask. Therefore she hides her happiness, hides her smiles, and smothers them in her heart, afraid to let them blossom into something breakable. To get her to show her true emotions is like drawing blood from a rock, she hides them so skilfully. If anyone ever managed to get past her defences, it is more likely than not that she would purposefully scorn them from then on, so as to make them stay away. The other half of her personality has been so warped by the hatred she holds for Kyara that she doesn’t even realise what she used to be like.
Silvate is the kind of person that you take one look at and know not to cross. She still hasn’t really gotten over the nocturnal habits that she began developing as a child, and as a result of this, the woman can seem somewhat… grouchy during the day. Grouchy however is most definitely an understatement of the explosive temper that resides within her small frame. If something annoys hers, then she will most definitely let it know; being prone to outbursts of rage, she doesn’t hesitate to lash out. In fact, she doesn’t even think about it, with Silvate, it’s more of a physical reaction rather than a mentally determined course. If someone or something has lit her rather… short fuse and hasn’t retreated swiftly enough, well, then they had better hope that they can dodge. Regardless of whom it is, if in a bad enough mood, Silvate’s main response is to lash out physically. Whether it be a slap, or a fist to the face, the offender on the receiving end will certainly be in for a shock.
Her tongue isn’t what you’d call silver, more like rusty iron. She will say what she thinks straight off, no matter the consequences, and more often than not, her opinions aren’t exactly flattering. With her temper, if she hasn’t hit you, expect an acidic remark to slip between her lips. Somehow she knows how to get to people, how to attack their deepest insecurities and make them feel inferior. She will dig into your darkest fears and twist a blade in your heart with the words she utters, and has even reduced tough old miners to the brink of tears. She holds no mercy for a person who has crossed her and doesn’t give a second though about any repercussions her words may have.
When she is alone, her thoughts often wander back to who she used to be and it’s true that she regrets what she has become. Until she realises that the thought was a weakness and she rids herself of it. Were anyone to show her affection, she would convince herself that she was not worthy of it or that they would only leave, until she believes it. Then she is able to push them away more easily. Faranth forbid that she be allowed to develop any affection for anyone else!
On a rare good day, when she is a little more talkative, she will indulge in a little company. True, she can still be fairly abrasive, but still, if she is going to chat willingly, many people will put up with it, if just to get to know this strange woman a little better. Her sense of humour can be quite off putting though as she prefers to err towards the dark and macabre side of things. If you can put up with this though, you might just find that this woman can be somewhat approachable, if frosty.
Her redeeming feature is her love for creatures. In fact, she probably cares for animals more than for other humans and will settle for the companionship of a fire lizard or a feline over the friendship of another human being. It seems completely out of character when someone sees her rushing to help an injured animal at the hold, but run she does, helping in any way that she knows how. She had a pet canine for a while, but when she bonded to Silvask she gave him to a friend to look after. Since he has died, but she never bought another, dedicating the time that would have been used to look after it to learn as much about animal healing as possible.
Silvate is also very strong willed, and what she wants, she will get. Despite her vicious temper and her tendency to speak unkindly, she can be extremely persuasive, and some would even say that she can be fairly manipulative. The woman is very headstrong and doesn’t allow herself to be talked into anything that she doesn’t want to do; at times she can be difficult for even the most skilled master to manage if she sets her mind to it. Although she seems very confident on the outside, she experiences bursts of self-doubt, but is extremely careful not to let it show to anyone.
Years upon years of working with whers has helped her to become physically strong and she would be damned to let herself get weaker. She sees her strength as a way to look after herself and a way to prove that she isn’t just another weedy little girl, incapable of doing anything other than sitting and looking pretty. She opts for the more physical chores that are handed out to allow her to continue this exercise, pushing herself to become stronger and even more independent.
History: Silvate doesn’t know who her mother was, only that she didn’t want anything to do with her. Apparently suffering from post-natal depression after the birth, the woman refused to even looked at her newborn child, instead spending her days weeping. Her father however, was a wherhandler, by the name of Selloran, bonded to the blue wher Selsk. For the first few months of her life, he tried to give Silvate all the love and attention that she needed, but the demands of the mine he worked in and Sellosk’s nocturnal habits meant that soon the baby was looking weak and ill. As soon the child developed a nasty cough, Selloran knew that he couldn’t keep her with him; it was killing her. Heartbroken and despairing, he ran to the only person he knew would help, Riella. His one and only true friend in the small mining hold he lived in, he knew that handing the baby over to her would help the both of them. The woman had given birth to a stillborn babe only a month prior and was grieving over the loss, so Selloran’s logic followed that if she were to have another child to care for, then perhaps the pain of that loss might be dampened. And if his child had any chance of survival, then so too would the wound in his heart heal – the woman who was her mother had vanished, and if the babe were to die also… then nothing would remain of the love he had treasured.
Riella, astounded by the man’s appearance on her doorstep with his offer, was wordless when he told her what he wished, and could only nod her agreement. She told Sellorin that she was going to the Wherhold to help the Master Wherhandler with something she was trying to do, though she was not certain what the intended goal was. Sellorin was happy enough for his chid to go with her, as he promised to visit when he could, and perhaps one day, she too would become a handler as he was. Sad farewells were made only a week after the arrangement, the woman and child whisked away to a different life altogether.
Riella and Silvate were welcomed warmly to the Hall. Still producing milk for the stillborn babe, Riella found that she was able to nurture Silvate the way a true mother could. Through the intimacy of this care, the woman found a true love for her new daughter, and treated the child as though she were truly her own – indeed no person who did not know otherwise would look upon the pair and see them as mother and daughter.
Growing up within the Wherhold was comfortable enough, with marks sent from her father when he could spare them. When she was old enough, she began to save these away, for something special to buy her mother when there was a gather. She knew that Riella wasn’t her birth mother, but to her, it didn’t matter. The woman who had brought her into this world hadn’t cared for her, whereas this woman did, so she could not be prouder to call her ‘mother’. Hall life suited her perfectly, she could ignore the other children if she so wished as she did not have proper lessons, and was without the trivial jockeying for ‘rank’ as Hold girls were prone to do. As children go, Silvate was a pretty well mannered girl, although her tongue could let loose some rather nasty remarks when people got on her bad side. A harper came to teach them their songs and letters and she took well to learning – she mastered her ballads far quicker than the other children in her class. This could have earned her a life in the Harperhall, if it weren’t for fate intervening.
At the age of only eight turns, Silvate had grown so used to playing with the whers that lived in the hold that she even played with the hatchlings in their den. Herlove for the creatures was great enough even that she would sleep during the daylight hours and come out at night when the other hanlers groomed and fed their bonded, and even helped when she was allowed. She had learnt their language almost fluently, and could be seen from dusk til dawn running around the Hall, playing games in the dark. Even so young she had a reputation of being friendlier to the whers than to humans, and she was practically nocturnal by nature; not someone to wake up during the day otherwise you’d face the full wrath of a sleep deprived youth’s temper tantrum. Some of the other children scorned her for being so ‘weird’ as they caledher, but to the young girl, it didn’t matter. The wher’s were her friends, and she would play with them any day over some of the boring games the other brats came up with.
It wasn’t long after her ninth birthday that something amazing happened to the surly young girl. She had been playing around the den of the golden queen, Kyask, chirping to the gold inside despite not getting any replies. When the wher did finally appear, Silvate was almost scared by the fact that the female’s eyes were whirling a mixture of orange and lavender. The brown haired child knew that there was a clutch inside the den, and that the clutch-mother should be stressed and uncertain was somewhat worrying to the girl. Clicking and growling, Kyask communicated that something was strange with some of her eggs, and that the young inside felt different to how they should.
Uncertain as to what she should do, Silvate clambered to her feet from the pile of rocks she had made around her self and started to turn, wanting to go and get Kyara. She would know what to do. But before she had even had the chance, the queen had grabbed a hold of her arm in her ugly maw and was dragging her into the den. It didn’t even cross the girls’ mind to scream, because even though fear had begun to creep up on her, somehow she knew that Kyask wouldn’t hurt her. Inside the den, the light was so poor that it took a very long time for Silvate’s eyes to adjust. During this time, Kyask kept nudging her closer to her eggs, complaining that something was wrong. Once she could see, her mahogany eyes seeing through the gloom, a small clutch was revealed before her. Unable to make out any colours, she felt the eggs and giggled to herself. The rumpled shells made it look as though the eggs had baggy pyjamas on! A nip to her hand stopped her giggling and she solemnly observed the clutch. The eggs were hard, near to hatching she thought, and as the wher had communicated to her, yes something did feel odd about them.Unsure now what she should do, she sat there, just watching quietly. In the heat and the dark, it wasn’t long before she fell asleep, curling up around one of the eggs as though she herself were a mother wher, guarding her clutch.
It wasn’t long before dawn that she felt a sharp headbutt to her ribs, making her sit up sharply, wincing and pain shot through her sore bones. Kyask looked at her quizzically, her eyes whirling more calmly now, before nudging the egg the child had fallen asleep around further into her arms. She chirped happily, encouraging the girl to accept her gift, knowing that she could look after the young one inside. Silvate however almost started wailing. “But I’m only tiny!” she exclaimed as soon as she got the meaning behind the queens actions and rather uncertain that Riella would be pleased with this new development in her short life.
Despite this, she was not allowed to leave empty handed, for every time she put the egg back with the clutch, it got rolled back to her; and every time she tried to leave without it, Kyask hissed and bared her fangs. Giving up, Silvate retrieved the egg and bowed her way out of the den, chirruping her profound gratitude and honour at such a gift. Kyask merely chirped once before turning to the rest of her clutch and settling herself around them, eyes closing sleepily, for the dawn was coming and this was her time to sleep. As soon as she left the den, Silvate ran off to Riella, to tell her what had happened and also to explain her unexpected disappearance, without so much as glancing at the colour of the egg in her arms.
Riella, as pretty much expected, very nearly fainted when she saw her girl running up the steps to the hall with an egg in her arms, almost stumbling with the weight of it. “What are you doing with that, be careful!” she cried. When the girl finally reached her, and after a gabbled explanation of what had occurred, the woman sat on the floor with an almighty thump. A child, to bond to a wher? How would she cope? How would the rest of the Hall react? Looking at her pretty little girl, she saw a stubborn look set into her young features. “If Kyask thinks I’m good enough, then I can do it, I know what you were thinking.” With those words, it was settled. Finally, the pair both examined the egg, and an unusual egg it was – Kyask had been feeling unsure for a reason. This egg in particular wasn’t as pretty as a dragon egg, for no wher ever was, but it was certainly odd. It was a deep brown colour, with a red shade running through. More peculiar still was the slightly silvery pattern that spiralled over the surface, barely there, yet visible when the light hit it just right. Perhaps the oddest thing about it, was that despite the egg being brown, the personality that emanated from within was most certainly female. Silvate had wondered aloud why it looked so weird, and her foster-mother thought it best to explain.
She had come here to help Kyara experiment with wher breeding, to see if there were possible mutations hidden within their blood, much as was becoming apparent in many of the dragons all over Pern. She had heard of strange colours emerging and dragons with special powers, and now wanted to see if the same was possible with whers also. The last eight years had been spent experimenting with different substances from over the world, and finally they had found a plant high in the icy mountains of the Northern Continent that secreted a silvery-white nectar, that when ingested by a female dragon in heat, caused changed to the embryos within the eggs before they were laid. The Weyr that encouraged the growth of these flowers were unaware that samples had been taken and fed to the whers. Now that this egg had been seen, it was also evident that the nectar affected wher eggs as well as dragon eggs, although the results remained to be seen.
Confused by what she had been told, Silvate paid it no mind, and set about creating a warm dark space for the egg to stay. It was only a few days after that the first cracks began to show. Excited, the girl rushed around pestering drudges for as much fresh meat as she could get her small hands on. Returning to the makeshift den, she sat, waiting for the hatchling to poke its head out of its shell for the first time. As it was, she was sitting there all night, watching the egg shake and shudder as the young wher inside struggled to get out. It was nearly 5am when Riella poked her head to see how things were going; one glance sent her rushing in.
The egg wasn’t moving quite so vigorously anymore and the cracks on the surface had failed to split open any further. Silvate was almost hysterical, and being so young hadn’t even thought to break the shell with her hands. The girl was pale and shaking, scared and upset that her gift wouldn’t even make it into the world. Withdrawing into shock, there wasn’t much that she could do, until her foster mother dealt her an almighty slap to the face. This was the one and only time she had ever struck the girl, and though it pained her to do so, nothing else would do – if she helped the hatchling out, there was a good chance it would bond to her. Though she lived and worked with whers, she had no desire to be bonded to one of the creatures.
When the pair had both woken up, Silvate finally took the time to look Silvask over. The wher was brown in colour, but strangely… she was female. The creature had pounced upon another bowl of meat, ravenous and flared her stubby wings and she attacked the dripping gobbets of meat, to reveal that the undersides were a dark red hue. This puzzled both Riella and Silvate, but they passed it of on the experimentations of Kyara. The hatchling seemes healthy enough and that was all that could be asked for.
Being only nine, Silvate was too young to be placed anywhere to be of use, but was immediately set to learning how to train her wher, and together they learned all of the noises that would be needed to join a mining team. Even when Silvask had reached her full growth, Silvate was seen as too little to do any proper work, so she was allowed to stay at the wher hall, allowing Kyara the time to examine the only wher from that particular clutch that hadn’t been sent anywhere. Silvate resented this, having to be separate from her new best friend for hours on end. Whilst the woman poked and prodded the wher, measuring lengths and doing this that and the other. Silvask bore it patiently, although her temperament was somewhat more snappish than many other whers.
The pair spent their free time just getting to know one another, playing games in the dark to better their coordination and generally keeping out of harms way. No one had taunted them about the whers strange colouring, for truly she wasn’t the only one; many of Kyasks clutch from that period were born bicoloured or even strange colours that had never been seen in a wher beforehand.
Eventually, when Silvate had reached the age of 16 turns, they were finally assigned to a small mining hold, much like the one she had been born in. The current wherhandler was more than welcoming, setting them up with their own rooms in his house and teaching Silate all of the little things about this particular mine that would have been missed out in general training. The man couldn’t have asked for a better student, for she memorised everything with precision and quickly. Silvask also was a fats learner, exuding the feeling of excitement, keen to do something useful after 7 years of doing nothing very much at all. It also got the pair away from Kyara and her obsessive testing.
On their first sojourn underground, both of the pair were extremely excited, but also scared. This was the first time that they had ever done such a thing of importance, and knowing that lies hung in the balance… well that was scary. However, the whole trip went without a hitch and it was declared that Silvate and Silvask were now ready to have a team of their own, so that two working teams could dig safely. The whole hold prepared for a party for the two, whom they hailed as heroes. The work production could now safely increase, bringing more profit to the hold and fewer men would be lost to unsafe work. The banquet itself was glorious, with food enough for two whole sevendays, let alone just the one night, and everyone was merry.
Unfortunately, one soul tried to darken the mood somewhat. Whilst Silvate had been dancing, a man had apparently tried to lure Silvask away from the gathering. That however, hadn’t ended as he had foreseen – he was missing a goodly portion of his left forearm and it was his pained screams that caused every set of eyes to turn towards the scene. After receiving impressions of being taken away from her wher, Silate declared the man to be a thief and jealous. She vaguely recognised him as one of the young lads she had seen around the wher hall from time to time. Evidently he had not Impressed and coveted her bonded for his own. A smirk spread over the girl’s face, for she had seen how far it had gotten him; he would be lucky if he ever had use of that arm ever again.
The joyous atmosphere swiftly resumed and good times followed for Silvate and the brown Silvask, with the hold bringing in more and more, with the quality of life generally getting a lot richer.
There wasn’t anything more they could have asked for,. Except for more time with one another.
On an expedition to prospect a new vein of ore, Silvask began to cough unexpectedly. It wasn’t even just a gentle cough to clear her throat, but a wracking, wheezing type of cough that left the poor creature struggling for breath. During te episode, the wher had failed to notice the smell of bad air, more preoccupied with her blocked airways. Before Silvate smelt it and managed to alert the miners, one of the miners passed out, being further into the cav system than most. His comrades rushed to aid him, and whilst they hurried passed to get him to clean air, Silvask managed to stop her coughing fit just long enough to hiss and creel that the air was bad – very bad! – and to get out quick. More concerned for their own welfare, most of the men just rushed out, uncaring that a 19 year old girl was struggling with her huge beast of a wher, trying to get the creature to walk. Tears streamed down Silvate’s face as she tugged on Silvask’s paws, trying to drag her out to the cleaner air. But the wher was wracked once more by her violent coughing, unable to move more than a foot before collapsing into another fit.
Luckily, one kind man had turned to check on the pair, and seeing the distress of both the creature and her handler, dragged the creature own by brute force, even going so far as half carrying her for part of the way. Silvate could not speak, her own airways constricting, but in her case, with pure shock. Silvask had never been like this, and she had no idea what to do. The kind man managed to get the wher back to her den, even hugging the girl to calm her down, before he started off in the direction of the healers, worrying for his teammate.
Over the next few days, Sivasks breathing had severely deteriorated, making it so that even drawing in half a breath was painful. The creature whimpered in pain as she rested her great head in her handlers lap, trying valiantly to comfort the girl, sending her warm feelings of love and gratitude, trying to convince the girl that she would get better. Silvate believed none of it though, knowing that this would be long and drawn out, hating the woman who had meddled with her beloved’s egg whilst in was still in her mother’s womb. The healer came to see, but he just shook his head and told the girl that there was nothing that he knew to do, and that she should prepare herself for the worst.
Leaving the food that was brought to her and sipping just the barest amount if water that she needed, Silvate refused to leave her dearest, staying with her, watching as her breathing grew more and more laboured, hearing the whimpers of pain and holding back the tears that threaten to flood through. The rasping noise that emitted from the wher’s chest whenever she drew breath was sign enough that she wouldn’t last very long on its own. It was only a sevenday since the incident in the mines that Silvask passed away, shuddering her last breath out as she sent the most loving emotion to her handler, happy that she had stayed with her until the end.
When Silvask finally passed, Silvate allowed the tears to run freely down her face, allowed her rage and sorrow to run freely through her body. The beautiful Silvask had been too weak to even jump between into death, leaving a corpse as cold as the mountains in the north. Silvate asked for the help of two of the men that had been on her old team, one being the kindly man who had gotten her out of the mines in the first place, if they would help her bury the wher. They willingly obliged, sorrow filling their hearts at the loos of so brilliant a creature and at seeing the pain consume the girl they had all come to love. A grave was dug in the holds own graveyard, the wher to be remembered as a person and not as a beast. Everyone came to the requiem ceremony, mourning the loss of a loyal creature.
When the whole thing was over, Silvate went deadly silent, not speaking for days. Anyone who looked at her could see the rage seething in her mind, the hatred building up. So it was entirely unexpected when she approached the next watch dragon to check in with the hold. “Take me to the wher hall. I need to settle something.” Her voice rang with such icy conviction that the poor man couldn’t do anything but say yes. It was a quick journey between and the girl all but leaped off the blue dragon’s back before he had landed before sprinting off to the main hall.
Bursting through the door that she knew to be Kyara’s, ready to rip the hell out of the woman she bore this festering hatred for, she was shocked to see a completely different woman sitting at the desk there. She was just as shocked to see this young woman, her eyes burning with hate, and was cautious about asking her to sit down, but ask her she did. She let Silvate calm down a little, with a hot cup of klah before he began to explain anything. She wasn’t the first to come back to the hall in this manner, and fearing her life, Kyara had vanished with Kyask. No one knew her whereabouts. No one if she still lived. Silvate just stared dumbly at the woman before letting out such a beastial scream that the poor woman sitting opposite had to cover her ears. Hot tears streamed down her face once more, sobs wrackinbg through her body as she drew her knees to her face and cried into them. She wouldn’t allow a total stranger to see the full extent of her pain, not when she hadn’t even let Riella see.
When she had finally stopped, the woman introduced herself as Icyri. Silvate glared at her, trying to stab hot brands through the woman with just her eyes, hating everything that wasn’t Silvask at the point in time. Icyri had taken it in her stride and quietly led the woman to a set of room that she told her would be her own. It was a few weeks before Silvate would leave them.
When she finally did, she confronted the new woman that she had met, asking what had happened to the other whers. Icyri, uncertain about the volatile young woman in front of her told her only that a few of the other whers from the same clutch as Silvask had experienced problems, that eventually caused them to pass away. Naturally, many of the handler who had lost their bonded needed somewhere to direct their rage, and like Silvate, they had chosen Kyara as an outlet. The woman had vanished along with her wher, about a year ago. Turning to meet the dark gaze of the woman before her, Icyri gently let her know that the extra year she had had with Silvask was a blessing.
It took time to digest the information, as well as the fact that mutations had popped up all over the hall. Silvate was incredibly wary of any one of the strange coloured whers that walked her way, adamant in her mind that they too would suffer the same fate. When she asked about it, she was told that they had just popped up of their own accord, no tampering had occurred with their genetics or anything. Still, this left the woman wary.
Sinking into a depression, Silvate still kept to almost nocturnal hours, helping out around the hall when she can, but mostly, just focussing her rage on becoming stronger. Even when offered the chance to stand at another wher hatching, she refused completely, the pain from losing Silvask still worming its way around in her heart. She withdrew into herself – to an extent. She cultivated her hatred for Kyara and allowed herself to become bitter and angry for all the world to see. She wouldn’t allow anyone to get close to her every again, not if she were to help it, and this harsh personality would soon see to that. She lived in the Wher Hall for a time, before one night, after escaping the overbearing confines of her room, she met with two dragons, Muuth and Yorth.
Initially, she had been amusing herself watching and playing with the local fire lizards, before a couple who had bonded with the riders from Solainoti came to find her. This attracted the attention of the dragons and after a short, somewhat brisk conversation, it was decided that she should make a new home in Solainoti Weyr.
Upon her arrival, she was assigned her own quarters due to her age and her prickly personality but it did not seem to make settling in any easier. She still keeps mostly to herself and is waspish to the point of absurdity, even to those she should be respectful of. One can only hope that more time and kind ears will help her feel more like Solainoti is her home.
[/size]
I loveher, yes I do.
