((Twenty German points if you can figure out what that means!))
Havinka jumped a little at the heavy hand on her shoulder, and looked up to see the rider's face. She took one of her little fists, and wiped a cheek, sniffling.
"Are you sure, Veverith?" Havinka asked the gorgeous dragon, her voice wobbly.
Oh, Havinka, don't be an idiot! Don't you think I would have warned you out of a weyr like Smith's, or Marath's?
Who's Smith and Marath?
Smith is a sweet green, but her rider has a bit of trouble with ladies. Marath is the green that mauled two girls at the hatching.
Oh. She was a meanie, wasn't she?
Don't go in her weyr.
Havinka's face took on a thoughtful expression- though through the red-rimmed eyes, streaked cheeks, and the fact that she still sniffled, made it hard to tell.
