Husseling around.. -- Fort Quarters

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Date Posted: 20:55:23 08/04/01 Sat
Author: The Lord, Lady, and the Chillin's
Subject: Husseling around..

With a great heave, the Lord Holder gave a sigh, crossing arms across his brod chest, and scowling peevishly. He was stressed.. overworked, and phatigued over the daily list of things placed in front of the man. Farming his land... a monthly tribute to the Weyr.. that needed to be collected before the days closed on this one. Geric was also being pressured on the standing of a gather. And to be sane, he needed to hold one.. to at least keep up his stature as the powerful Lord Holder of the first Hold on Pern.

---

The young Lady of the hold hussled around as usual, young hands sweeping and dusting her most prized dresses and jewlery, whistling to herself, and at random times, brushing her hair from her face with lith, pale hands. She wasn't exactly /young/ as she tried to prep herself to be. She was around 40 turns, or nearing that age in her life, but sworn on her life, she wasn't going to admit that she wasn't in full of her youth. And as she waved off her drudges, to clean and furnish the hold, she gave a wavering smile, and kept on to her idle busywork.

---
Urra, Heygen, and Letonar were all in diffrent places... all of diffrent ages, and agendas. Urra, the only girl of the group huddled in one of the rooms, watching the headwoman gengerly teach her to sew, one stitch at a time, tender old hands slowly working their way with the young adolescent's own hands. Urra was only 12, a pretty little face about her, and a frame of her mother, soft pale skin, and gengerly placed dark cobalt orbs. And Urra would be fit for the job of a random cot holder.. or even maybe of a weaver at the best, because her soft nimble hands worked quickly into the craft... but who knew? She was only 12 turns of age.

Now Heygen was roughing about in the dirt, spatting and hissing, hands clamped around another boy's shoulders, hooded eyes narrowed and piercing in hatred, lips curled back into an underminding snarl. "Don't hurt it! It's only a watchwher." From the dark resesses of it's small dark cave, the watchwher gave a gurgling whine, pulling on it's chain and snorting undignified. Heygen didn't want any harm to come of his friend... even if it was a dull hidious beast. "Leave me be. I can do whatever I want to it.. your not my boss." The young boy was kneed to the ground, and young Heygen slipped to the ground, giving a slight whimper and a sob. He was only of 7 turns.. and to tell you the truth... he couldn't fight.

Now the eldest of the children was Letonar, slim, and sturdy, and on that day, final to treck off on his own, the sturdy runner Wiffle. Strange for a stead like that, but the young man of 19 turns didn't really mind. Swinging one leg over the brod back of the beast, the man gave a tip of his head, and a brod smile towards his friends that huddled in a semi-circle around him, waving slightly, and giving good words of wisdom. Winking impishly towards the young girls the giggled at his wary eye, he slapped his hand down on his runner's rump, and as soon as he was there... he was off.

---
Geric gave a heavy sigh, placing one hand apon his cheek, and chuckling. "All in a days work...all in a days work."

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