An odd wistle pierces through the air as you go by another door.
Curious, you knock softly on the wooden door.
It opens slowly, revealing a young boy of about fourteen. Sandy brown hair flops over his face, masking gray eyes.
"Oh, hi. Umm, I guess you heard me whistle. That's it." You look at the boy and think he's got some serious problems.
After a moments thought he sticks out his hand to you. "My name's A'ron, by the way. What's your name?" He asks.
You tell him and he gives a little shrug and motions you inside. His weyr is cold, barely dry, and nearly barren of anything.
Just a small cot with furs, a battered table, and a small crate that apparently holds his things inside of it.
Nearby a small fireplace is a brown dragon loungeing contently on his stone couch.
"I don't have klah, meatrolls, or any sort of food to offer you
as the other riders here would probably do and have done.
Just me, Darkith, and my sparkling personality." A'ron's voice has a sarcastic bite to it. A rueful grin appears on his face.
"Sorry, I'm just a bit edgely. I haven't been here that long. Perhaps I ought to be more polite to you." A smile appears.
"Well I suppose you'd want to know about me. Sit on the cot
and I'll tell you my story." You set yourself down gently on the worn-out cot and wait for A'ron to begin talking before the ancient thing breaks apart from your weight.
"I came from a small hold not too far away from here. I saw dragons regularly and thought nothing much of it.
You see, I was probably going to end up a herder as my sire, and his sire, and so on, and so on. How exciting.
Then one day a dragon landed and it's rider asked my to go with him. My parents being dutiful to weyrfolk, insisted that I go with him. That it is tradition. Well, I got on that dragon and left my hold and family to come to this weyr.
Where I ended up impressing the dashing brown Darkith sitting over there all nice and warm and cosy on his stone couch
While I ended up here talking to you in a weyr that is colder than the stables in a snowstorm during winter."
You ask about that particular whistle. A'ron gives a slyful smile
and points to the window overhead.
It's made of colored glass and decorated. "I was watching the resident fire-lizards playing through it."
And with that he shrugs and hauls you out of the battered cot which has trapped you by now.
"I suppose it's time you go, you'll freeze soon. I've got to find a way to make a bigger fire in the fireplace.
Oh, and just knock on that door over there to see where I'd impressed Darkith. Good-bye now."
And with that A'ron turns his back to hopefully warm up the weyr. You head towards the door he had indicated.