Yawlith and P'tal

You ascend a long stairway from the main hall, then follow a dusty hallway for awhile. A tiny brown flit is sitting in front of one of the doors nearby, whining. It looks at you plaintively, and you open the door for it.

It chirps and takes off, soaring into the weyr. Curious, you follow it. The weyr is full of wood, from little chips to carvings and even several rough tables. A boy of maybe fifteen turns is taking many of the pieces and putting them in a cloth sack. You ask him why, forgetting that you haven't met the boy yet.

"Ahh, what? Oh, sorry. I didn't know there was anyone else in the weyr. I'm P'tal, and I'm just cleaning out my weyr. It's a hopeless task, I've been trying to clean it out since I Impressed. Have you seen my Yawlith yet? He's over there on the dragoncouch." Just then, you feel something breathing. You slowly turn to find a huge blue staring at you curiously, and you sincerely hope he isn't hungry.

P'tal laughs. "Yawlith doesn't eat people, you don't have to worry. I Impressed him at Gallimim Weyr, which is also where I Impressed my brown Jakart. You seem to have met him." You wonder how he could have known that, then relize that the little flit has landed on your head so lightly you didn't feel it. "Yawlith has to eat now, I better go get his meat. Have a nice visit!" P'tal exits into the back rooms, and you gently remove the flit and leave.

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