Mink, written around 2001

Daughter of a mysterious couple who left this bawling child on the sands at Blackstone Weyr, Mink made her way to Eden's Gate before she could even walk. Given from one foster-pair to another, Mink spent as little as a week or as long as a year with any given set of parents.

Each of them taught her something different.

One showed her how to walk silently. Another taught her to appraise. Another gave her a small scar over her ear from crying too loudly. Yet others tolerated her presence and answered her questions as well as they could without neglecting their other children.

In this manner, Mink learned only one thing, really.

That her life should be her own. That she is a thief and a merchant is obvious, but that her skills with merchantry go far beyond just a little glance at this ring or a haggle with a master smith.

Mink is a Blackbottom, enlisted as a child at Blackstone. Her golden brown top hair is easy to match in clothing, and she likes the way her scars are covered by it. She is a little young woman, at 16 years old she could hardly pass for 12 by height. But her build is that of a growing young woman, and she is muscular from her efforts to stay alive and from running from sour 'deals' at Gathers.

Mink believes there is love out there, just very little of it is for her to enjoy. She's met several men, and several women, who she would not mind settling down with. Unfortunately, none of them would leave their own partners for her.

Mink on a dragon? Mink? Well... the thought has merit...

"Could you move your foot? Out of my face?" Mink groaned quietly. Her partner in crime, a young lad she'd allowed to tag along at this Gather, hissed back at her.

"There's no room, shut up! They'll hear us!"

She rolled her eyes and took a breath. The dirt below the tanner's counter was loose and dry, very dusty. It would only be a matter of time before one of them must sneeze. And then, their cover would be blown completely.

They didn't want to be IN the tanner's booth, anyway. They wanted to be in the glazier's booth. That master work in the booth beside the smelly leather-worker's place had a pair of hand-held spy glasses, and she knew that she had buyers for just that sort of thing.

It was a shame that she didn't have any money this time around. Not a simple penny. But, so be it. Her skills lapsed from merchant to thief and back so quickly she was never sure what to call herself these days.

The boy held his breath as a burden-cart was drawn by, a donkey stamped its muddy hoof down and sprayed the tent flap with dust. Mink gritted her teeth. Don't sneeze. Don't you dare sneeze....

"WHHHHHHA--CHOOOO!"

There was really no choice. Mink bolted from the tanner's tent without hesitation. She left the snot-nosed boy below it, and probably even aided his sneezing spell with her own cloud of dust. She scuttled under the donkey, startling it into backing up, which led to a hard cry from its master about rolling when he's dealing his wares.

From there, as the tent owner and the pottery dealer on wheels began jostling for the falling items from the cart, Mink sprinted on hands and knees across to a gemcutters tent. That was NOT where she wanted to be, certainly! The attention was all on the potter and tanner, though, so she scuttled down below the table, snitched one small gemstone that had fallen to the ground in the hubbub, and ducked out the back way. By this time, there were handfulls of people watching. The boy had managed to get himself stuck halfway between the wheel of the cart and the tent flap, and was cowering under the baleful bellows of the angry dealers.

Mink didn't stop running until she reached a refreshment stand, and there she helped herself to a glass of water. Fortunately for her, water was free at this festival. Before anyone noticed her, she skipped away again, this time around to where the animal pens were. But there were still shouts coming from the tanner's tent. The boy shouted and whined that he'd been with someone. No he didn't know her name, yes she could be identified!

Mink groaned. She turned around the tent post and ran right into a rider. He was burly, but not so overburdened with muscles that she thought he might be of too much brawn and not enough brain.

"So... I think you might be the girl that the thief is yelling about, over at that merchant tent..." he said, casually.

Mink's large eyes narrowed. "And what makes you say that, sir? I've got nothing to hide. I don't claim other people's work."

"Ah, 'work' is it? Is that what thieves call it nowadays?"

How casually he insulted her life! Mink, becoming enraged, stood with her fists balled up. She'd long since forgotten about the gemstone in her inner-vest pocket. She said, "Yes, that's what it is. You probably couldn't do it, with your big knotty hands. It takes a lot of skill and subtlty. Obviously, he hasn't got either of those things." She tossed her head at the still-loud merchants.

"Well, work or play, whatever you'd like to call it, you won't be able to change the colors of your hair any time before the merchants lay blame on you, little girl."

"Oh, to the SEA with this!" Mink cried, exasperated. She spun and walked through the beast pens, looking at pigs and goats and prize-winning cows. When she heard angry voices behind her, instinct told her not to look up. It was the pottery merchant, certainly. She recognized his gruff voice from his bellowing at the donkey.

She acted as casually as she could, when the man demanded to know if a girl with gold and black hair had come through the area. She was about to turn on him and insist that she'd been there for the better part of the afternoon, looking at the admirable quality pigs, when she heard the rider speak up.

"No, but I do have a searched girl whom I must collect. She's over there. I've been with her, and my dragon can attest to her worth. Would you like to challenge him for her?" He said, as casual as he had insulted her thievery skills.

The potter snapped some response over his shoulder, deciding that there was nothing for it. Nothing he had had either broken nor been stolen, anyway. Mink turned at last, when the wall of a man approached her. She barely stood to the middle of his chest, and looked up at him with her big brown-golden eyes.

"Thank you. Why'd you do that?"

"Because you are my candidate. You've been searched of course. You'll be coming with me, unless you think that dragon riding skills aren't worth your while to learn. Something you might do better than stealing things."

"But... but your dragon? He isn't--" She looked around, but the rider smiled.

He tapped his forehead and said, "he's always right here, watching. I've a mind to take you to Dark Moon Weyr. They are in need of candidates for a gold's clutch, and I think you'd fancy being on a fast little green, or a blue like mine."

She looked his physique over, "you... are a Blue rider?" She said, surprised.

"He's a ... big blue. Come now. The sands are hot, and the eggs are getting ready. There are already candidates there, so you'll need to catch up in studies. You ... can you read?"

"I can," she said, half disgusted. Her scars had come from that 'parent' of hers. She said nothing else. Approaching the dragons on a field for such creatures, she instantly knew that this rider's blue was in deed very big! He was nearly the size of a brown! He sniffed her up and down, before letting his rider help her onto his back.

"You'll be there in no time, and I think you'll fit in. But you're going to have to leave the thieving to someone else from now on."

Laughing, Mink said, "you think I can't do both? Or that I don't know who NOT to steal from?" She put her hands around his strong waist, and leaned in, then felt an uncomfortable little pip in her breast. "Ah, hey, do you know where I might be able to sell this?" She asked, holding out the lump of brilliant white-blue stone...