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 Posted: Tue Nov 14, 2017 12:32 pm
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To say that Akaris was having a bad day would have been an understatement. She was, in fact, quite sure that this was the worst day of her entire life. The young woman sat huddled up on the day bed in the infirmary, a too-big wherhide jacket pulled tightly around her. She had no idea whose it was, though it looked to be cut for a man, and it was nice. Very nice. Even after she'd been brought clothes from her trunk so that she could change out of her torn ones, she'd put it back on. It was a touch warm, but it was a comfort, and she wasn't ready to part with it yet, though whoever it belonged to was bound to want it back sooner or later.
She'd been cleared to go to dinner and go back to the Barracks, but she didn't want to. She was sure the other Candidates - shards, the whole Weyr! - must all be talking about her, coming up with their own versions of what had happened, how she was stupid and horrible and deserved to be eaten. They were people, after all, and people talked. Akaris was usually one of them, more than happy to gossip away or spread a little rumor now and then if it suited her, but she wasn't used to being the one talked about. Not in a bad way, and she knew that that was what had to be happening right now, so she was determined to stay right where she was, where no one would be staring, and where she at least couldn't hear them whisper and laugh, where no one would march up to her to give her a piece of her mind. They didn't understand.
She was just going to leave tomorrow anyway, get away from this horrible place with its horrible dragons and pretend none of this had ever happened. She was certain they'd let her and be happy to see her go; if anything, she was surprised no one had come to throw her out yet. If and when they did, well...anywhere was better than here. In the meantime, she intended to remain planted in the infirmary, where no one but the Healers could see how wretched she looked after all the crying she'd done, and whatever they thought of her, they would have the decency not to say it aloud.
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Posted: Tue Nov 14, 2017 6:45 pm
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Akaris' eyes flicked up to watch the Candidatemaster once she caught the movement of him, while she remained sullenly quiet until he spoke. Inwardly, she spared a moment of concern for her appearance: surely splotchy-faced and puffy-eyed, and her hair had to be a frightful mess! But she didn't have the energy to spare for that sort of fretting, and let it go with a faint sigh. In the battle of pride versus exhaustion, today, exhaustion won. It didn't mean that she wouldn't go with her head held high, but if her face wasn't properly made, so be it.
Of all the things he could have said, she expected to simply be dismissed, or perhaps to be ordered to explain herself. Not the kind offer to talk about it, not after she'd spent the past however-long stewing over how much everyone almost certainly hated her by now. She blinked at him in surprise, then looked away, picking at the edges of the jacket's sleeves with her painted fingernails. Did she want to talk? Sort of. On one hand, she wanted to never speak of it again, in the hopes that she might be able to forget, but on the other...she wanted someone to know her side of things. On the Sands, no one had bothered to ask - judgement and retribution had been immediate. And maybe she'd been wrong, but not wrong enough for...for that. And it had been wrong, too, from her point of view.
Akaris pulled in on herself a little further, but did sniff and murmur out, "It called me something awful."
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