Red's Ten - Leredda

Leredda

Age 14, Weaver Journeyman (to be)

There were constants in Leredda's life that she appreciated greatly. The endless toil of the loom, while it was sometimes difficult work, was also very meditative and soothing for her mind if not her fingers. The sounds of the shuttle moving through cords, foot pedals sliding weft and warp and clacking up and down. But there were other things constant in her life: merchants caravans arriving every sevenday, sales gathers every month, even her own body's monthly progress into adulthood was something she appreciated for its regularity.

And then... her father's invitation. Well - her father's Weyrwoman invitation, that did make a bit of a difference. Once she knew that she could return to her work, or do it in addition, Leredda's irregular heart beat and pulsing temples returned to normal. She thought back onto her life, and wondered what sort of dragon there might be in her future. What dragon would need a weaver girl, like her?

She'd been born in the Weyr, actually right here - it was like a homecoming of sorts. But at quite a young age, not even six, she was sent to the Weaver hall to learn her mother's original craft. Her mother came to visit frequently, because that place was still her home at heart. Her mother's visits too were regular, with some exceptions when Thread was falling of course. For some reason, Leredda never worried about losing her mother in Threadfall. There was something to her bond with the woman, clear and obvious, she knew they'd be together... Though for many years Leredda didn't understand how.

Her life in the Crafthall was good - she was a focused worker, she loved spinning thread and learned much about each type of yarn that could be produced from what sort of creature or plant. Her preference to work the looms came after she was ten, when she'd been made familiar with most of the other parts of the craft. The Master was happy to have her as an apprentice, he knew that like her mother, she'd go far - if...

If only there were no more dragons in the family? Well, what Leredda only found out after going to Dragonhope for her search and education furthering her knowledge of the riders and their own 'craft', was that her mother Learha had also been born in a Weyr, though not this one, and sent to the Crafthall! Her grandmother was a weaver, turned rider! It didn't go back farther than that, that they knew of, but this was tradition! Leredda laughed at the thought - no wonder she was never worried about her mother. It was in their blood.

She stopped worrying about it for herself, as well. But she'd never forget her lessons in the Crafthall - after all she was very nearly going to try for her Journeyman knots perhaps later in the year that she was searched. And since there was a Weyrweaver and several other highly-statused crafters in the Weyr, she knew that she'd be able to earn those knots even with a dragon in her weyr.

Leredda was particular about some things. Her shared dorm with Kyred, Redayne and Tayred was large enough for them all to spread out a bit, but was still a bit cramped for space. She'd need her loom - her hands and feet both were itching to get back to work. Of all the ten, Leredda was the most fidgety, even more so than young Tayred. So used to the endless movement in front of her, if she didn't have a loom... fingers waggled and toes tapped. She often found solace in running up and down to the Heights, a good solid workout. This surprised some around her, after all this was a delicate girl weaver... But she was strong, energetic, and more over, still quite young. And she knew, if there was a dragon that was to choose her, she'd better be ready for the work!

And work there would be. She could lift firestone sacks but not throw them, and though it was part of the training necessary the Weyrling master knew that she wouldn't be of much use tossing sacks in the heat of battle. She could easily identify different breeds of dragon, and their anatomy, and like her elder sister she seemed to grasp wing formations and fighting patterns with ease. Her disciplined mind and weaving background undoubtedly at work.

But also there would be play. Her mother was so glad to have her daughter with her again, and not be an infant in need of care. They compared their works, and their futures. And, Learha warned her away from the kitchens. The endless sneezing and coughing they'd do if they directly encountered the raw spices and powders used down there when they were baking sweets? It had grounded Learha for a week one time, unable to breathe. Leredda's allergies weren't so bad - she went down and tested how close she could come to some of the spices, and while she could stand in the doorway, she didn't dare go in. Learha could hardly stand in the hallway entrance to the dining hall some days. Food and pollen aside, mother and daughter were very similar, save for Learha's pale golden locks and rich brown eyes. They had similiar figures, statures and voices.

On the night before they were all sent off to Talis, there was a little party organized by the Weyrleaders - after all, there would be practically a full wing of riders coming back if they all impressed! Ayred danced (carefully not to get hurt again) with each of the women as they remained at the weyr, each of his daughters. It was a wonderful party, Leredda wanted to immediately head to a loom and start comemmorating it in cloth. She had to tuck that thought into her mind deeply, not forgetting what colors she wished to incorporate, what patterns would be best.

Then at Talis... Oh what a strange, different place. The sands were filled with eggs, and with dragons! There were some odd couples... brown and bronze, blue and black? It hardly surprised her that when the eggs began to hatch, certain of her half-siblings impressed particular dragons. She waited, worried, because it was now getting into later day and though there were plenty of eggs still unhatched... most of her siblings had impressed already!

It was when a butterscotch-brown hatched and rolled his head around, quickly snapped up to attention as he spied Leredda... She knew she would be his. He was not an intimidatingly large brown, either, in fact that one blue had been bigger than he! That was good, Leredda thought, because she couldn't handle a bigger one! Isirth had some of the same mannerisms as his impressed, his claws were almost always moving, his tail twisted around her legs with nervous energy. Always looking around, always capturing a new image and a new smell or sound. Leredda let his presence wash over hers. If her mother could do this, and her grandmother... Then so would she!

She wound up with the Chulmun Nalge, the Weyrling wing, after her training and first single Threadfall had finished. She was not destined to fly against thread, no - but she would most certainly now appreciate the comforting presence of the jackets, leggings and helmets they wore in flight! She would produce several kinds of items off her loom: a tapestry here and there (one depicting the dance and family), gather-worthy clothing such as her bright glow-green dress, and sturdy, thick and warm cloth for lining dragonrider's battle clothes!

NAME: Isirth
COLOR: Brown
SIZE: Small Brown
PERSONALITY: Feisty, restless, tempermental
PARENTS: Gold Avriliath x Pale Bronze Charieth