Precious little is known about Zenrai. He is the son of a bronze rider and perhaps his mother is a healer, though she disappeared shortly after Zenrai's birth -- probably to return to her home in another Fall's time? He has features which lead one to believe he is of "Asian" pernese descent, however looks may be decieving if his mother is who she may be...

Quite a long time before he was searched, Zenrai took a liking to dragons. He studied fire lizards closely, and even tunnel snakes. With that experience, he developed a fighting style which is elegant and deadly. With it, he travels from hold to weyr, guarding caravans and holdless wanderers while they travel -- for a very moderate fee of course.

When he was 11 turns old, his travels took him to Dawnlight Hold, and he returns there often. However he also enjoys the unusually ecclectic company of those found at Alabaster as well. He is rarely seen among people who are, shall we say, 'friendly' or 'nice'. Often he is found among the Shadow Warrior wing men and women, they have obviously cleared him for their work. But he doesn't talk about that.

When he does speak, it is in a low, careful and pleasantly sinister tone. He has never been heard to sing, and very rarely to laugh with pleasure. He does give off the occasional joking 'megalomaniac laugh', however.

Zenrai is now 18 turns of age, and has seen much of the Southern continent. He has rather expensive tastes in clothing and weaponry, and his hair usually makes Hold girls swoon. He has returned to his original foster-parents on occasion, though they are somewhat afraid of him now. Of course, he had a penchant for knives and sharp things even when he was a young child. It only seems fitting that he took the name meaning "by Example", possibly to honor his father or mother. Though his foster parents do not understand this.

He is aware that his wandering nature will perhaps bring him into a weyr now and again. And he is aware too that his father's background will easily allow him to become a candidate. He has wondered what he might do, if he impressed...

Zenrai walked along using his staff as a mere walking stick. The caravan driver beside him called out occasionally to make sure that the others in the train had kept up. Zenrai looked to both sides and up into the air, beyond the caravan and backwards, in a subtle pattern. He shifted the pattern often.

Sensing motion to the far side of the caravan, he clicked his tongue to indicate that he was moving from his spot, to the driver. Then, he went behind the first wagon and wove through the other carts and oxen, until he spotted something in the rocks beyond the road.

A snake. A big one. A respectfully large and battle-scarred tunnel snake. 'Now what are you doing all the way out here,' Zenrai thought to himself. 'A big male like you should be keeping your territory safe... but you've been driven out of it, haven't you...'

He stared at the long, six limbed animal, until he got a good look at its motion and stance. It was aggressive, but hurt. Old, but smart.

When it looked like it was going to be following the caravan, and could keep up with it because the wagons were going quite slowly, Zenrai moved back to the last couple of carts.

"Have you a wherry or a chicken to spare?" He asked, startling the girl in the wagon. She looked up from her crouch on the wagon's floor, and then glanced up at her mother. The older woman nodded, but did not ask why.

Zenrai took one of the chickens, one with dull feathers and a bad eye, and lept back out of the wagon as it rolled along.  He broke the chicken's neck with a flick of his wrist, something he could probably have done without the young girl watching... When he hit the dirt road, the tunnel snake had already passed the last couple wagons and was slithering beside the middle one.

"Oh no you don't," Zenrai said, though the rider of the third wagon thought he was talking to him!

"I will, sir!" The man with his head poking out the window hole said. He had a crossbow ready, aimed at the old tunnel snake. Zenrai scowled and narrowed his already tight eyes.

"You shall not. I was talking to the snake. He won't have any of your children for a meal. Now put that away." Zenrai held out his yellow hand to the man, in warning.

Then, he moved again along the road. He stood between the snake and the wagons, and the snake reared up in anger. Several other members of the caravan had their crossbow sights on the snake, but none dared fire while Zenrai was so close! Then, Zenrai held out the dead chicken, and waggled it. The snake looked at the creature, and held its motion. Its nostrils flared, and it sniffed at the freshly dead carcass.

"Have it and leave us be, old man," Zenrai said, flinging the chicken away from the caravans and past the tunnel snake. The creature followed the arc of the chicken's path, and then scuttled off after it to gobble it down.

It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep the creature away from the track while the caravan moved on past.

Later, when the caravan had arrived at a cothold for the evening, Zenrai was sipping down some broth and concentrating his energy on looking good while he did so. Someone entered the smallish dining area, and approached him.

"I've heard about what you did on the road, Zenrai," the rider said. Zenrai could tell it was a rider by their clothing and their smell. They smelled of dragon musk, something that made Zenrai turn and address them.

"Ah. And that would be why you need to speak with me?" He asked, looking at the rider.

"Yes. Compassion is a strong and compelling thing. You could have killed the snake, but you didn't. Why?"

"Because he was already near death. Some younger tunnel snake had probably taken his territory away and he was looking for an easy meal. It might be his last. Why should I torment the creature, when he's had a long hard life already?"

The rider smiled. "It's a very good quality in a candidate. Or a rider."

"Are you giving me a Search?" Zenrai said, "I've already been told I'm to be a candidate some day."

"Well, you have your chance. At Harana Weyr. It's very new."

"It would have to be, I've never been by it. And I've traveled extensively."

"If you wish, I can take you to the sands. There is a clutch waiting, perhaps it's for you?"

Zenrai put his soup cup down and smiled at the rider. "It suits me. It would make wandering this continent much easier on dragon back..."

The nice afternoon was a fine time for a gather, and the weyrwoman at Harana bid it so. Zenrai wandered among the few people who had goods to sell or buy, but didn't find anything he really needed. He had little money anyway. Then, the call went out: the eggs were hatching!

He laughed slightly to himself, of course they would choose the one day that everyone really wanted to be outside to hatch. His life would be far more busy now than ever. He stood and looked at the sky, the last time before he might fly into it.

Many of the eggs hatched before Zenrai felt a strange stirring in his gut. It wasn't the food he'd had during the gather, it was something far deeper. Something inside his soul, his mind and his heart all at the same time.

There were only two eggs, and two candidates left: he and a girl who had been there at Harana before he got there. How they waited, with agonizing patience.

A brown moved out of the egg that hatched second-to-last. He looked around, and then moved closer to Zenrai. The long-haired man stepped closer. This was the moment of his life, the best moment in the world. And he was so hungry, he was about to burst.

"Let's go get some food, Kossorith," Zenrai said, smiling.

That sounds wonderful, Z'rai. Are you happy?

Very. And hungry, just like you.

Z'rai coaxed Kossorith out of the cavern and rubbed his cold hands together.

It is too cold to hunt, and I do not like this rain. Why are we out here, Z'rai?

Because this way you will learn stealth. Even if you're flying, you will need it.

But I do not want to surprise everyone, just the food!

Z'rai smiled. "Ahh, but I want to surprise certain people. And their dragons. Won't that be fun?"

You are not known for 'fun', Z'rai, you're known for being a dangerous man! Even I know that!

"But not nearly as dangerous as thieves or cutthroats, and they've been seen out here recently."

I do not want your throat cut!

"And it won't be, if you'll just learn how to lift those wings. Now, above, below. Above, below..."

Their training went on, long into the cold day...

"It is a manhunt, but we must bring them back alive for a trial." Said H'lis. "Too many Marks have been lost to this pair of thieves, and you all must know how important it is to the Holders that they get their goods back."

"But if we --" said one rider, but H'lis held his hand up and shushed him.

"Z'rai and Kossorith will be taking care of this. When they give the signal, you all are to take your places. Is that clear? No one gets hurt, no one dies."

Grumbles acknowledged the wing leader's words. Kossorith took to the air and went between, coming out over a small woodland hold. They prowled high in the air, Z'rai's keen senses watching and listening. Finally, the pair of road-thieves showed themselves, and Z'rai announced for his dragon to broadly bespeak the others. Soon, a dozen large shapes loomed overhead, behind the pair of unwary thieves.

Kossorith dropped to the ground, right in front of the pair of men, and their runners startled, depositing one of them onto the dirty road.

"You're caught," Z'rai growled. His tone indicated more than his cold eyes did, that he meant business. The other dragons landed soon enough, and took the men off for interrogation at the hands of Kalkin in Alabaster.

You did well... I did well. I like this job.

"Me too, Kossorith, me too..."