Contest 2 }{ Sr. Wherwoman Contest

[. s p o r e ♪]

Time for Contest Number 2! Solace is currently lacking a Senior Wherwoman, although we do have one Junior Wherwoman NPC for clutching purposes until that position can be filled by someone else. So October's contest will be a contest to create Solace Weyr's Senior Wherwoman.

The Wherwoman should have been in her position for at least a couple turns. She doesn't need to be terribly old, but her wher will be older than the junior wherwoman's gold, who has already had her first Run. Other than that, feel free to take liberties with her history, and do whatever you like with her wher as well.

Entries should consist of a complete profile for the pair in question, including everything from name to history. Post the completed profiles in this thread for perusal. The winner will be allowed to keep their goldpair as Senior Wherwoman. Other entries may be eligible for consolation prizes, depending on the number of and quality of entries.

This month's contest will run until October 30th, so as not to conflict with the dragon hatching. Also, for those who are participating in the advertising contest, you still have a week to compete, so keep on your toes. Have fun, everyone!

[izzie]

(( =u= ))

u s e r n a m e → Izzie
c h a r a c t e r → 3rd

n a m e → Amani
a g e → 25 turns
g e n d e r → Female
s e x u a l i t y → Bisexual
r a n k → Senior Wherwoman, Goldhandler
w i n g → Blackest Night Wing
s t a t u s → Healthy
p l a y b y → Angel Coulby

a p p e a r a n c e →

Dark-skinned with curly brown hair, Amani was born in the heat of summer and looks the part. She has a broad smile and high cheekbones, with deep, brownish-black eyes that seem to house a smoldering inner fire. Though not "tall" by the average person's standards, she couldn't be accurately called petite either; she's around normal height, with a curvaceous build. She's in good shape from the hard work she's done throughout her life, and this combined with her steely willpower gives the impression that she's more of an oak than a willow.

With a full height of around 5'4", Amani is now and then mistaken for someone non-intimidating. This is far from the truth. Physically, she might not be the strongest woman in the world, and most men dwarf her, but Amani has spent her life around canines, herdbeasts, and whers, and she likes to think she could take on a human too. It's only a matter of time before her stubbornness and drive reveals itself to onlookers. The force of the personality in her body can often be a bit of a shock.

A girl with the attitude of a commoner, she sees no need for fancy clothes or delicate fabrics, preferring earth tones and sturdy things that she trusts not to fall apart under strain. Compared to a lot of other women in Pern, it's rare to see her in a dress -- after all, she always argues, she learned early on that it's not easy to wrangle herdbeasts wearing a full skirt. In general, she chooses simple outfits that won't restrict her movements or otherwise hinder her while she's working or fighting thread. She's seen and had way too many brushes with danger to risk losing a limb, or her life, because her foot got caught in the hem of her dress.

The years that she spent traveling with her family, and the years that she spent as a candidate and wherling here at Solace, have left their marks on Amani. (She wasn't the most cautious child in Pern, that's for sure.) Most notably, she has a scar across her back and left shoulder blade that is mostly but not entirely covered by her shirts, a souvenir from a wher hatching some years back. It still pains her sometimes, often during storms or other inclement weather, but all in all she's gotten used to the wound.

Oaks, you know, don't bend under the weight of one scar.

[/justify]
p e r s o n a l i t y →
passionate . strong-willed . just . loyal . outgoing . down-to-earth . grumpy

One of the first things one will notice about Amani is that she throws her entire self into her work. She's extremely dedicated and persistent, and it's difficult to change her mind once she's made it up. The wherwoman does not exactly have the patience of a saint, and one can easily annoy her by displaying incompetence. At the same time, she does have a strong sense of fairness, and she is generally willing to cut slack to people who don't know any better, like candidates fresh from their Hold or children in the creche. But while she understands that they can't help their ignorance, she won't be eager to, say, let them around one of Amanisk's clutches. And all of her compassion goes out the window when someone makes a mistake that could lead to serious damage.

Amani, it's easy to see, has no great concept of "fanciness." Born and raised a regular caravan girl, she's never learned how to dress stylishly or elegantly. She doesn't have the poise of a Lord Holder's daughter or the grace of weyrfolk. She's down-to-earth, strong but not haughty, and has a distaste for the nobility that rivals that of any other commoner. Furthermore, she's an extrovert, and gets easily bored when she's not around people; this has the added bonus of keeping her in the loop of what's going on throughout Solace Weyr.

Despite her outgoing nature, her day-to-day temperament is a decidedly cynical one. She's prone to snarky comments and half-joking, half-serious negativity. (Amani is not one to sugarcoat the truth; if she thinks your singing sounds like the desperate cries of an injured tunnelcat, she will duly notify you of it.) But don't let her grumpiness fool you, because another important component of the goldhandler's character is her loyalty. She'll grumble and groan about it, and berate you for getting yourself in trouble, but she can't bring herself to leave behind a comrade in danger, even if she's not especially fond of them.

Once they're out of danger, of course, she'll go right back to reminding them how stupid of them it was to get into the situation in the first place.

It stands to reason that the two things that spark Amani's wrath more than any other are injustice and betrayal. She despises cheaters, traitors, and those too lazy to do anything to stop them. Her ordinarily semi-forgiving attitude falls to pieces when she's confronted with one of these crimes, and one will find that a truly angry Amani is not something anyone wants to see. Due in part to her great belief in justice, she shows no mercy to people she thinks do not deserve it. When someone really earns the hatred of this passionate woman, he or she will not easily escape it.

[/justify]
h i s t o r y →

Amani was born the third child of four, and younger daughter, to Marel and Anniva, caravaners who bred and sold herdbeasts. Always looking to trade and make enough of a profit to keep their large family afloat, they traveled all over the Southern Continent, stopping at Holds, cotholds, and at the campgrounds of other caravan families. Relann, the eldest, developed his father's business sense; Livea was a perfect little lady with a lovely singing voice. Niar, then scarcely more than an infant, was perpetually ill, and would not live for very long.

And then there was Amani. She was a determined, passionate girl, stubborn as a bull and more than a little bossy. Most of the time she spent "exploring" with the family dogs, which led to a lot of discoveries and even more trouble. She endlessly frustrated her mother, who wanted her to be more like her sister -- kind, elegant, easy to handle. None of that was in the cards for Amani. Rather than learning weaving or singing or childcare, she took up a hobby of hanging around her brother and father while they dealt with the herdbeasts. If, every once in a while, she got kicked by a herdbeast, well, that was just par for the course.

Amani and her family visited Hold after Hold, selling, buying, trading. When she was nine turns old, they arrived in a mining area, where one of the men had a wher. The young girl was fascinated where other people may have been repulsed (to her mother's displeasure). There was nothing majestic or even cute about whers, not even to her, but in Amani's mind they were new and different, a stark contrast to the herdbeasts with which she had become so familiar. That was enough to interest her until the caravan moved on again.

As she grew older, reaching her preteen years, Relann was preparing to become a real partner in the family business, and Livea was preparing to be married in the next several turns. This in itself didn't bother Amani, since she had never really gotten along with her sister, and didn't see it as a great tragedy if Livea disappeared into the arena of married life. It did, however, pose a problem, and that problem was that Amani would be next.

To her independent twelve-turn-old mind, the idea of getting married was very distasteful. She was barely beginning to see other people as potential mates, and she certainly was not looking forward to tagging along with some trader husband and having children for the rest of her life. She couldn't explain it, but Amani just wanted something more.

When she was thirteen turns, the family stopped at Solace Weyr.

It was the first time she'd seen dragons, really, and they were very interesting, of course. But Amani found herself drawn to the whers, like the one she had seen as a younger child. The wild greens, mischievous blues, patient browns, and the regal, arrogant bronzes and golds... all of them intrigued her. The wherhandlers she passed in the evenings were a promise of another life, one without the constraints she hated, one freer and more exciting than the one she would lead in the caravans.

When her family left the Weyr, moving on to the nearby Cliff Hold, Amani stayed behind. It was a decision she never regretted.

Naturally, the girl became a wher candidate. Over the next two and a half turns, she attended several hatchings and learned how to properly care for whers. She didn't Impress at any of the hatchings, but that was fine; she could stand for wher hatchings into her thirties. (Dragons were too picky for Amani's liking.) When Amani was fifteen, the Wherwoman's gold laid an enormous clutch of twelve eggs, and the wherhandler community was soon abuzz with excitement.

Several weeks later, they were on the Sands, watching as ten of the twelve eggs began, one by one, to shake. And one by one, the queen and her handler handed them off to candidates. There were a few minor injuries, as typical of wher hatchings, but nothing particularly unusual. A beautiful little green hatched for another girl, and Amani could only watch in envy as the other candidates found their bondeds. And then the last egg, an orange one with cream-colored swirls, burst open of its own volition. The hatchling inside emerged and stalked toward the candidates, pushing people out of the way and finally stopping in front of a fifteen-turn-old girl with curly black hair falling into her eyes.

Mama take too long, the gold said. Amanisk tired of waiting. Stupid green not good for Amanisk's, Amanisk much better. She sniffed at Amani for a moment before chomping down on her arm, and looked rather pleased with her choice of handler. Go now, yes? Nothing left to see. And so they went.

Wherling lessons were interesting, to say the least -- Amanisk had a strong will and a very stubborn mind of her own, and was not always thrilled to be taking directions. (She also tended to assume that she already knew how to do all of the things she was being taught.) In spite of these occasional bumps in the road, Amani managed to get through her time as a wherling. At the age of seventeen turns or so, she became the Junior Wherwoman of Solace.

It was more a matter of default than pure merit; there were no other golds to fill the position, and that couldn't be helped. Thus, for a while, Solace was obligated to deal with an inexperienced teenager as one of the leaders of the whers of their home. To Amani's credit, she learned as quickly as she could, and by age twenty she had blossomed into a quite competent Junior Wherwoman. Amanisk was pleased indeed.

At some point during all of this, though, something happened. That something was that Amani fell in love with the Senior Wherwoman.

Ordinarily, maybe this wouldn't have been a problem. The Weyrs had always been more accepting than the rest of Pern, and whers chose their handlers in complete defiance of gender and orientation. So while the two Wherwomen being in a relationship would probably be unusual, it could be something the rest of Solace could grow used to. But there was another small detail; Seren, the Senior Wherwoman, was already in a relationship with a bronzehandler, and Amani couldn't bring herself to interfere with that.

She stayed completely silent about the topic for the next two turns, observing from afar the rocky dynamic between Seren and her Weyrmate, giving no hint to her full feelings on the matter. When Amani was twenty two, the relationship fell apart entirely, an end most had been expecting for some time. Amani's first instinct was to approach her as soon as possible, but out of respect for the woman who was, first and foremost, her friend, she hesitated. She didn't want to overwhelm Seren too quickly.

Whether it was the right plan or not, Amani can't say. Not long afterward, the Senior Wherwoman died in threadfall.

Amani was left to take her place, never getting the chance to confess her feelings. She bottled her emotion away; Solace deserved better than a grief-stricken Wherwoman. Instead she channeled her energy into her new duties. The new gold wherling, Voja, graduated and became the Junior Wherwoman. She was a nice girl, but no Seren (no one could be Seren). Amanisk has run twice since becoming the wherqueen, and she's approaching the time for a third.

Life goes on. That's something that Amani knows quite well.

[/justify]
f a m i l y →
Marel; NPC, father,
Anniva; NPC, mother
Relann; NPC, brother, 30
Livea; NPC, sister, 27
Niar; brother, deceased

n a m e → Amanisk
a g e → 10 turns
g e n d e r → Female
r a n k → Gold
c o d e → FCF86E, FFAA00, FFBCC0
s t a t u s → Fighting fit

a p p e a r a n c e →

Let's get right to it: Amanisk is beautiful, especially for a wher. The primary color of her hide is a buttery daffodil yellow, more like the first blossoms of spring than true gold. This easy on the eyes base is then painted with intricate, scrolling swirls of rose pink and golden orange, whirling over every inch from her head to her tail to her two-toed feet. Around each of her eyes is a circle of dots, which can make her look vaguely like she's been in a fight. The markings are unusually detailed for a wher, but that seems fitting for a queen of the Weyr. While there will, of course, still be some who are put off by her wizened wher features, Amanisk is one of the more lovely of her kind.

Somewhat contrasting with her delicately pretty coloring, Amanisk is no dainty flower. She's big and broad, with wide hips and a curvaceous build, all the classic signs of an egg-bearer. If the floral pattern of her hide evokes a nonthreatening impression, think again. Just looking at her size (that being one of the largest whers of Solace) should be enough to convince doubters that she's capable of doing serious damage if the need were to arise.

Amanisk doesn't weave prettily around, and she doesn't really walk, either. It is fair to say that she strides, her legs making long gains in ground and simultaneously exuding confidence. Hers are not the movements of any run-of-the-mill shrinking violet. Amanisk is a queen, and she knows it.

[/justify]
p e r s o n a l i t y →
proud . vain . unusually sweet-tempered . protective . intuitive . commanding

As a gold, Amanisk is essentially queen of the whers of Solace, and she has a personality to match. Regal and elegant, she has a knack for giving orders and a soft spot for anyone who flatters her. She's extremely vain, why bother to deny it? But she thinks she has good reason to be. She doesn't take kindly to any disrespect, which to her encompasses any insinuation that she isn't Pern's greatest creation of all time. Formidable in size and build, she wouldn't hesitate to attack if she thought even for a moment that there was a real threat to her eggs or her handler.

Still, for a wher, and especially for a gold, Amanisk is surprisingly... well, nice. Even to those she distrusts, she is deceptively friendly, though inside her somewhat simple mind, negative thoughts are boiling over into her handler's. She might not grasp every detail and nuance of Solace, but she knows that it's important to Amani, and that's all she needs to know to defend it with her life. And one only needs to look at Amanisk's enormous form to realize that she can defend things quite successfully. This unexpectedly (for her, that is) vicious quality shines through around the time of her runs, and while she's on the Sands with a clutch -- out emerges a wild, unpredictable anger that can and will be indiscriminately directed at anyone who makes a wrong move.

She has a special knack for reading humans and other whers (and even dragons, to a much lesser degree). It's not uncommon for Amanisk to distrust someone with whom Amani sees no obvious problem, but it should be said that Amanisk's reasons for disliking someone aren't always reliable, and could be anything from suspecting they're a spy to being offended because they looked at her for too long. Furthermore, she won't always explain her logic, forcing Amani to make judgments on the accuracy of her wher's judgments.

But hey, queens don't need to explain themselves.

[/justify]
m i n d v o i c e →

Amanisk may be a pretty wher, but she has a dangerous mindvoice at odds with her more or less agreeable nature. Soft, slithery, and hissing, like twisting vines, her voice has a very serpentine quality that many find a little sinister, especially given her only partial mastery of human grammar. (Among whers, Amanisk is considered quite eloquent, but that isn't saying too much.) Generally, there will always be some kind of sibilant noise in her speech, whether it's trailed at the end, in the middle of a word, or tacked onto the beginning of the sentence. A curious habit, and one that might be more expected in a dragon than in a wher, but nevertheless one that is an integral part of her manner of expression. When she is irritated, her speech crescendos and booms, but when she's truly enraged, Amanisk's voice becomes quiet, ominous. And then she strikes.

e g g → The Rose Trellis Egg
p a r e n t a g e → Unknown NPC Gold x Unknown NPC Bronze

[mousy]

username: mousy
character number: three

Name: Rhua
Age: 19 turns
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Bisexual
Rank: Senior Wherwoman
Wing: Blackest Night Wing
Status: Healthy

senior wherwoman rhua of gold rhuask

Appearance:

5’8” . Average build . Tangled, brown hair to mid-upper arm . Dark brown eyes

Rhua really isn’t a particularly pretty young girl, easily outshone by either of her sisters. She seems somehow out of proportion, her limbs too long and her face too large. Still, she also isn’t particularly interesting to look at - unless someone is there to compare her to she doesn’t particularly look out-of proportion, it’s just when one of her sisters - her “perfect” sisters - or anyone who looks “normal” is around that her imperfections are obvious. But if she didn’t look so oddly-proportioned, Rhua would probably be quite a pretty young thing - she has a soft, gentle face (which is one thing that her sisters don’t have - they all look rather harsh), and, if it wasn’t permanently tangled, her hair would really be rather nice. But, as it stands, she’s always squinting due to serious near-sightedness, and her hair is constantly tangled, although she does occasionally attempt to drag a brush through it. But, by most women’s standards - particularly her mother’s - Rhua has more imperfections than you could successfully shake a stick at. Still, she has a very pleasant face. While she rarely smiles, when she does her whole face lights up, and she really looks extremely pretty. Her eyes, as well, are lovely. They’re a very dark, chocolate shade of brown, not extremely dark, but a nice shade. They don’t look black, not in any way at all.

Next, to Rhua’s general build. She isn’t a particularly large girl - she can’t be, not if she’s a Wherhandler -, but, on the other hand, she isn’t a tiny scrap like Neyl. It wouldn’t really suit her, no. So, somewhat like Rhuask, she is somewhere in between the two, relatively thin, but not emaciated, and with a moderate amount of fat on her, although this means that Neyl always called her fat - but Rhua secretly reckons that Rhuask could carry both her and Neyl, even now, and that’s somewhat laughable, right? In any case, Rhua isn’t particularly interesting in that respect either. Her hair, actually, is Rhua’s most interesting feature. It comes down to mid upper-arm (not to her waist like her mother’s), curling and waving around a bit before deciding to settle down and end. She cuts the ends off occasionally, if only to keep it in check, because it really is very frizzy, but a nice, dark brown colour. It would probably look lovely if she could be bothered to wash and brush it (although, like I said, she has occasionally been known to drag a brush through it. Not nearly enough, though).

Personality:

Gentle . Studious . Intelligent . Self-protective . Shy . Defensive . Maternal . Meek . Quiet . Slightly boisterous around friends . Soft-spoken . Hates being touched . Shy . Absent-minded . Easily distracted . Love martyr

What Rhua lacks in appearance… well, she doesn’t particularly make it up in personality, but that’s beyond the point. Really, she doesn’t particularly draw attention - she’s meek and mild mannered, and softly-spoken in the extreme, particularly around unfamiliar people, to such a degree that she might appear shy - something else that is dissimilar about her and her sisters: they’re outgoing, Rhua prefers to sit and read or do something else studious. She’s the scholarly girl who sits reading a textbook at lunch rather than going on to the field and breaking her kneecaps, although you can probably blame that on her near-sightedness. In any case, she isn’t particularly interesting in running around and yelling and getting muddy. It was often been commented that she must be incapable of raising her voice, although she isn’t. She just doesn’t particularly want to. Not when it isn’t necessary. She can raise her voice - there were four of them growing up -, but she tries not to, being the quiet one. Certainly, she is one of the quietest people that you will ever meet, preferring to sit and watch rather than actually put in an opinion. Just how she is.

Rhua is, though, extremely studious. She is literate - or at least as literate as any of her family -, and was actually considering being the Records-Keeper, until she got Searched, and went off to become a Wher Candidate. She’d still like to be a Records-Keeper, though… It’s a nice, quiet job… However, Rhua was always reading whatever she could possibly get her hands on in her youth - even things she probably shouldn’t have been reading. And she probably somewhat understood the things she shouldn’t have been reading, because she isn’t an idiot. Quite on the contrary, she is the clever one in a family of appearance-obsessed idiots, taking after no-one, unlike all of the rest of her siblings (the girls took after there mother, with their beautiful hair and gorgeous faces, and her brother took after their father, with his muscular build and nice hair. Secretly, the others suspect that Rhua was the result of an illicit relationship on the part of her mother). But she’s clever. She has a working brain. It doesn’t make her in any way cunning; in fact she is quite the opposite, and extremely literal-minded, and she rather needs to have things spelled out to her. But otherwise, she is intelligent. Particularly for her family.

As a result of being the “black sheep” of the family (comparatively plain in appearance, but rather intelligent and capable of independent thought, rather than a beautiful statue with no capacity for independent thought), however, Rhua frequently tends to be a little… shy to protect herself. She is an absolute wallflower, preferring to stay in the shade rather than take credit for anything. This is mostly why she is a Wherhandler rather than a Dragonrider. Everyone remembers the Dragonriders, but the Wherhandlers get to lurk in the shadows and go un-noticed, which is just what Rhua always wants. She will always defend herself, and cannot take a compliment, leading many to label her an ungrateful little brat, even though she isn’t. She’s just used to compliments with strings attached, and she thinks that they all have strings attached as a result. But she is incredibly defensive. She won’t attack anything (although Rhuask won’t hesitate to attack something that’s a threat to the Pack), but will defend herself against any blows, be they physical or verbal. She is pretty good at coming up with a witty comeback, certainly - although she usually won’t bother.

Rhua is, however, very maternal - she wants to care for people she loves, particularly Nadame (which did, admittedly, cause quite a few problems: particularly with Ilerna, who thought Rhua was hitting on Nadame, which would, obviously, never happen - Nadame’s happiness was more important to Rhua). Even though she sometimes forgets to feed Rhuask and her dog, she is really relatively maternal, and can generally quiet a crying baby, which is a useful skill. She often thinks that she would be a crиchemother if she hadn’t become a Wherwoman, although that’s a story for another day.

{ personality will saunter here - eventually }

History:

Rhua’s family always lived near several other families in the Cothold. Their children had grown up together, fallen in love, argued, and played. All in all, their lives were always linked. However disapproving the looks, however annoyed their parents were, they were always out late and playing together on the cove, tripping each-other over, chasing each-other, playing and just generally being children. Rhua was the oldest of this little group, born a full turn before the child with the closest age to her, a boy called Galanar. Next oldest was Elori, who was shy and awkward, then Shaina, who was quiet, anxious and completely lacking in confidence. Next were Leea and Eeia, who weren’t related but might as well have been, they were so similar and inseperable.

And then, there was Nadame. She was two turns younger than Rhua, and Rhua was always most fond of her. They were completely different - Nadame was confident, friendly, gregarious and sarcastic, whereas Rhua was content to sit on her own with Galanar or Leea and talk quietly (which she usually did). However, even though they were so different, Rhua and Nadame were best friends, right from when they were toddling around together and annoying the others. Which they did a lot, because it was, apparently their one talent in life (as Rhua’s sister, Neyl, put it - but Rhua never had really liked Neyl, who was cruel and sarcastic, but not in the same way as Nadame, as well as calling Rhua fat, so no great loss on Rhua’s part there). However, the little group got on extremely well, off in their own world in the Hold, and all too happy to be so.

At home, though, Rhua wasn’t as happy. Her family were all perfectionists, and she hated them - apart from Untesso, her brother. She loved him, because he was imperfect, too. He was three turns older than her, and resolved to be a Healer since the first day he could toddle

[/justify]

Family:

.: mother :: Ormia
.: father :: Iss'iri of Bronze Rakmosgath
.: sisters :: Iashy . Neyl
.: brother :: Untesso
.: former crush :: Nadame
.: friends :: Galanar . Elori . Shaina . Leea . Eeia . Ilerna . Kelinn . Serro

-----

the poison apple gold "rhuask"

Name: Rhuask
Age: 5 turns
Gender: Female
Rank: Gold
Code: FDC571 . D3AB54 . D77700 . B23602
Status: Healthy

Appearance:

Small . Neither stocky nor stick-thin . Rich, red-gold base . Bronze spikes on side of head . Light gold stripes on tail, feet, and rings around eyes . Deep red spots on neck

Rhuask is not a particularly remarkable Wher, particularly for a gold. She is rather insubstantial, standing at just over 12 feet at the shoulder, and, like Rhua, she isn’t really built for anything in particular, apart from simply… well, being. She is neither stocky nor skinny, and is somewhere in between; moderately muscled, but not too much so. Elegantly thin, but not emaciated. In other words, there isn’t anything much to make her stand out from his peers, or at least with regards to build, because his hide is certainly a fascinating thing, but more on that later. Rhuask has long, lithe limbs, and adequately-muscled shoulders, just enough to be able to carry Rhua, but very little else. She isn’t made to carry a lot; just like his peers, he is made to carry Hers and little else. She’s happy with it like that.

Rhuask’s hide is, however, relatively interesting. It is, for the most part, a very deep, rich red-gold, looking almost orange despite being obviously golden, although all of her hide and body is not like this, although the bits that are certainly stand out, and they stand out very obviously

Personality:
Mindvoice:
Egg:
Hatching Scene:
Parentage:

[ricci]

Spore, dear, is it necessary for the Handler to be female?

[danaphantom]

Username: Dana Phantom
Character Number: 5 (Contest)

Name: Ranis
Age: 43
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Rank: Wherwoman
Wing: Blackest Night
Status: Fighting Fit

Appearance:
Ranis stands out in a crowd simply because she dominates it. Far from a small woman, both in height and in weight, you really can't not notice her. That's not to say she is a towering giant or an obese lump of fat - yes, Ranis is above average, but there is nothing truly grotesque about her.

At six feet even, Ranis is taller than most women and even a majority of men. There is width and bulk to her, yes, but as aforementioned, she is neither obese nor a bodybuilder. Before she Impressed, often she would joke that one should never trust a skinny cook. As a Wherhandler, some of the mass has certainly shifted to muscle, though still she is certainly big-boned and well-fed. With wide and well-used child-bearing hips and a bosom that more than ample, at the very least Ranis has enough curves to fit her physique, though she's far from being a model.

A rather homely woman, Ranis is much more easily described as plain than anything else. While her height may make her stick out, her face is far from the same. On the whole, one could just describe her features as small, almost mousy, set in a round face. Her lips are thin and narrow, sitting beneath a small, slightly upturned nose. Amber is the dominant color in her narrow-set, almond-shaped eyes, the color darkening as you move towards the pupil. Her arching eyebrows are well-kept, and she works to keep her appearance neat. Perhaps the one interesting feature about this woman would be her hair. At first glance, it would seem to be a charcoal gray, but on closer inspection, it becomes apparent that, instead, this woman has simply started graying very young. Her black hair is now interspersed with strands of silver, giving it a depth that goes beyond natural highlighting. Her hair is kept short, around chin-length, and is straight and somewhat full.

Ranis's choice of clothing tends more towards the practical than the fashionable, though to say her work clothes are plain would be far from the truth. As if making up for her otherwise plain appearance, even the sturdy hide clothing she wears during training is finely tooled and more often than not dyed either a bold jeweltone or a subtle but pretty shade. Her more casual clothing is embroidered and decorated, cut to accentuate her figure. Dresses are kept for special occasions, as they are much more of a hassle than she is willing to put up with. Regardless what it is she does chose to wear, it is always very neat and very clean. Creases and wrinkles are not acceptable at any time.

Personality:
It rarely takes more than a few minutes after one meets Ranis to glean what position this woman held before she Impressed her Wher. The distinct maternity of a Headwoman clings to this woman like a crawler clings to the wall. It is impossible to deny the fact that, had things turned out differently, Ranis would be leading the Lower Caverns rather than leading the Wherhandlers.

Strength of personality is very apparent when meeting Ranis. Indeed, she can occasionally come off as extravagant simply because her emotions and opinions are there and they are not to be denied. She is not a fickle or temperamental person, mood swings a rare occurance caused by proddiness or PMS. Stubbornness is an inevitable and expected trait in this woman, her will solid when it has been made. Still, before said conclusion has been made, she will weigh the options and the data as evenly as she can. While not the brightest crayon, she still has 'street' smarts and knows that others still have valuable input (some of the time). If someone approaches her with an issue or an idea, she will give it thought... though whether or not she takes this to heart can, at times, seem to be a crapshoot.

Had her fate ended up differently, it would not be a big stretch to see Ranis riding a Red Dragon. The maternal instinct is strong in this one, and she does her best to care for everyone, especially the Wherhandlers under her. A bigger proprietor of tough love, someone is more likely to be told to buck up and rub some dirt on it than to be coddled, but there is a time and place for the latter as well. Before she Impressed, Ranis was partway through raising a handful of children, and all were well cared for. Indeed, the fact that she was a cook and an assistant headwoman certainly showed that her priority was caring for the hundreds of people within Solace's caverns. While it may be rough around the edges, Ranis is, at her foundation, a kind, caring woman.

If there is any one thing that makes Ranis peculiar, it would be her borderline obsession with cleanliness. While far from a germaphobe, she cannot stand to have dirty hands, and if anything else on her person is soiled, her demeanor becomes markedly negative. Everything must be neat and must be in its place. Her quarters are meticulously organized, and even the smallest thing out of place can cause her to throw a fit. OCD, perhaps, but it cannot be denied that this helps her keep her Whers and her Handlers in check.

History:
There is nothing exciting about Ranis's entry into the world. Her parentage is nothing remarkable, either - a flightlusty Brownrider and a lower caverns woman happy to oblige. She was born a fat, happy baby, raised in the Lower Caverns into a fat, happy child. Despite her play and her chores, baby fat and then a little extra always clung to her body. It never bothered her, and any kid that tried to tell her otherwise often got a bloody nose or a black eye. A bit of a rough and tumble kid, she got into her fair share of scrapes, though unlike some of her peers, she grew out of it.

An early bloomer, Ranis began to shoot up to her final height around age nine, and by twelve she had easily surpassed her peers in height and... curviture, though by then it didn't matter quite as much. The Weyrbrats had begun to naturally sort themselves out by natural talent and interests into various crafts and jobs. With a knack for cooking and organizing, it wasn't all surprising when Ranis turned her attentions to the kitchens and began her apprenticeship, as it were. Due to the interval, hatchings were few and far between, though Ranis did stand at a few, if just to give the dragonets a wider selection. Just because there wasn't Thread now didn't mean they could really risk losing any hatchlings to a lack of candidates.

A dragon would never come to her, but it didn't matter much to Ranis. She was content in the kitchens, cooking for the Weyr and caring for its inhabitants. Further complicating her ability to be a Candidate was the fact that, as a Lower Caverns woman, the losers of flights often would wander her way. And Ranis wasn't at all against their advances. She may not be the most beautiful woman in the caverns, but she was amicable and giving. Frankly, it was only a matter of time before she found herself pregnant and ineligible for candidacy. Her daughter, named Ranara, would be the first of many produced over her lifetime.

By the time Ranis had reached her early twenties, her skill in the Lower Caverns had gotten her noticed enough to get a promotion to an assistant headwoman. Now with a small portion of the lower caverns under her control, she would shine, helping organize and care for the Weyr. It fell to her to manage the main supplies for the Wherhandlers. It came with late hours, but it didn't bother her too much. Little did she know that, inadvertently, she would join their ranks.

She had only intended to deliver buckets of blood porridge to the wher candidates that night. The hatching had already been underway when she arrived, buckets in hand, passing them out to nervous Wherlings with ravenous beasts nipping at their hands. As she turned to continue down the line, she found herself confronted by a brilliantly gold, gnarled face.

Rsk's bring food. Good. Rsk hungry. Gaping slightly at the Wher with the nearly unpronounceable name, Ranis wasn't entirely sure what to do. Rsk did, however, and she bit into the woman's hand, lapping up the blood that pooled there, cementing the Impression. It was all Ranis could do to pass her remaining buckets off to a drudge as she fed the ravenous queen.

Wherling Training was rocky at first, as Ranis was far from prepared to care for her lifemate. Still, stubbornly the two pushed forward, and ultimately graduated with their peers. There was much to learn, but neither were willing to give up. As a Junior Wherwoman, her tasks weren't all that different than before, just with the added bonus of having a beast that could effectively command (and/or force) those beneath her into doing the work they needed. Solace's Wher wings were organized better than ever, preparing for the Threadfall that was mere turns away.

Ranis's ascension into the rank of Senior Wherwoman was simply natural progression. The queen prior was already getting advanced in age by the time Rsk had hatched. When three turns passed without a run, the Wherwoman stepped down to allow a Queen more capable to step up. Since Ranis and Rsk were the only options, they found themselves suddenly promoted. Lo and behold, after her next run, Rsk would clutch a gold egg that would later hatch into Vojask.

With the coming of Threadfall, Ranis has found her organizational skills to be a great asset. The wings of Solace are efficient and accurate in their Threadfighting skills, empowered by Rsk and hand-picked Wingleaders. Furthermore, her attentions have shifted to Southern, especially with the recent murder of the late Senior Weyrwoman. There is much to be done, much to protect, and Rsk is due for a new run.

Family:
Father: R'naris, Brownrider, 67
Mother: Peeta, Cook, 61
Mate: None
Daughters: Ranara, Cook, 26; Ceris, Journeyman Healer, 23; Taralo, Candidate, 20; Ysui, Weyrbrat, 5
Sons: N'sar, Blackrider, 22; Brisis, Apprentice Smith/Candidate, 17; Telenon, Candidate, 12; Hidaron, Weyrbrat, 8
Grandchildren: Several Weyrbrats


Name: Rsk (pronounced roughly like risk, the Wher herself makes it sound like a growl that turns into a hiss)
Age: 18
Gender: Female
Rank: Gold
Code: F0B019
Status: Fighting Fit

Appearance:
Upon first glance of this Wher, one cannot help but see the sunset splashed across her hide. Even during an overcast, moonless night, the vividness of Rsk's hide is not lost in the shadows. Perhaps a disadvantage, this coloration would keep her from any covert missions without much advance preparation, but as senior Wherqueen, it would be unlikely that Rsk would ever be used for anything quite so dangerous. Not when a more agile and dextrous Wher could be used instead.

For the most part, Rsk's hide is a vibrant, almost fruity orange. She is, as previously described, painted like a sunset, her face a brilliant gold to rival her draconic kin, fading to her orange around mid-neck. Furthermore, her legs have a distinct reddish tint, with almost pink highlights on her feet. On her wingsails the opposite is true, the trailing edge is distinctly bronze, the rest grayed as if the sunset threatened by a thunderstorm. The very tip of her tail is distinctly black, the finalization of the falling of twilight.

As one would expect for a Wher, Rsk is solidly built and coated in muscle. There is not a single being in existence that would dare challenge the strength of this wher... in part because she looks like she can, and very well likely could, rip even the largest gold dragon limb from limb. Stocky doesn't even come close to being an apt description. This power comes with a price, as speed and agility are last on the list of things Rsk is good at. She is a large beast, as one might expect with her Handler, though compared to other Golds she's actually quite average. Due to her sheer bulk, Rsk can barely glide on her stunted wings, let alone achieve any semblance to real flying. Thoroughly grounded, this Wher isn't getting anywhere except on her own four feet... which she can do nearly unendingly as long as the sun does not stop her.

Personality:
A single glance to this Wher will give you the basics of her personality: this Gold is proud, powerful, and will not hesitate to show it. While not necessarily vain, she knows her position and will not hesitate to use it to her advantage if necessary. Whether is is mental prowess or her physical strength, Rsk is a brute and a bit of a bully. When she knows what she wants, there is nothing that will keep her from it. Luckily, she influenced enough by Ranis to have Rsk's wants be mostly along the lines of keeping the Whers in check.

Humor is completely lost on Rsk. It's not completely that she is completely serious, though she is, but it seems that the part of her brain that would process a joke seems to simply be non-existant. This is, perhaps, an advantage, as Rsk is a little more articulate than the average Wher. Not by much... but a conversation with her is never all that puzzling.

Despite what she may seem while holding a conversation, Rsk is definitely a rather feral Wher. If the fact that she only took the first letter of her handler's name wasn't enough of an indication, her more wild mannerisms show this. She has a hard time being still and often stalks about, watching. Fiercely independent, it is a very good thing she is currently senior queen, as she does not take orders. Period. Furthermore, there is a definite aggressiveness to almost all her actions, and can sometimes easily be prompted into violence.

Mindvoice:
A conversation with Rsk is likened to a landslide - rough, quick, and sometimes deadly. There is little eloquence to the sound of her voice, and she doesn't care. Picking around her words and masking the gruffness feels like a weakness to this Wher. She is strong, she is powerful, she is aggressive, and she will not change who she is if someone cannot accept that. The sound itself borderlines a high tenor, though at times it will dip into a dangerous baritone. Rsk may be female, but there is very, very little that is feminine about her speech.

Egg: Auric Dawn Egg
Hatching Scene:
It was confined. She couldn't move. This was unacceptable. She felt others out there, active minds. Hungry. Bad. No more!

A growl escaped the otherwise gorgeous Auric Dawn Egg, violent shaking suddenly overcoming it. It was only a matter of seconds, once a claw struck true, for the watercolor shell to become a shattered mess, a shadow of what it was. In its stead was a snarling sunset, a Wher absolutely livid at the fact she was tangled and upside-down. The few Whercandidates that had approached in anticipation of the second egg to hatch scuttled back as the Gold wrestled herself to her feet.

Eyes red with hunger and fury, the young Queen hissed, staring down the candidates. Pathetic. Poor excuses. Fangs bared at one that got too close, the Gold stalked off towards the shadows around the border of the cavern. Temporarily forgotten by the emergence of a Brown, as well as the arrival of freshly made blood porridge. Mmm. Blood. Yes, yes, she wanted blood.

Creeping around the candidates, the Gold made her way to the scent. Blood. She wanted blood. She wanted food. She wanted... This one. The others were stupid, they were unworthy. But this...

Rsk's bring food. Good. Rsk hungry. She didn't know why she spoke. It was unnecessary. This one was hers, this one had food. What did it matter this one wasn't a candidate. The candidates were unacceptable. This one was strong and would be adequate. Blood. She needed blood. She wanted it now, and would not be denied. This one was confused, so the gold took it into her own hands... well, hers' hands. One quick bite later, and the blood she craved, she needed, sprung forth.

Ranismine. Good. Come. Food and sleep.

Parentage: Gold Marjask and Bronze Tyvesk

[ricci]

Galanaven; 29 turns; Wherman of Gold Galanavesk/"WherHealer"


...let them know you realize the sun does not go down
It's just an illusion caused by the world spinning round...

Name of Character: Galanaven (Nickname: Lana)
Age: 29
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Bisexual
Family Ties:
Mother: Deceased Alana of Green Avenuth
Father: A'vast of Brown Pirath
Half-Brother: Deceased Salanalay
Unknown Half-Siblings: All sorts born to A'vast.

Appearance:
Galanaven isn't a particularly tall or imposing figure. At the age of 29, he stands at a sturdy 5'6". So while not the shortest fellow in the Weyr, most men do stand above him, and while he's still tall enough to maintain an inch or two on most of the the ladies of the Weyr, he does occasionally find himself quite dwarfed. At least he doesn't find himself eye to eye with their breasts... most of the time. And Lana frankly can't say he's against the occasion that that does occur.

Anyways. What Lana lacks in general height, he has in muscle. He's sturdy, stocky and broad, with muscles building easily for a good... well, brown dragon build. When people get into the mood to describe friends and acquaintances as dragons, Lana fits the brown physically (and mentally; but we'll get to that...) to a tee. He's sturdy, and average sized, but bulky without being overly muscled. His scarless skin is a smooth tan, the result of a klah colored father, and a milk hued mother. His hair is brown and curled into loose ringlets, again, the combination of his mother and his father, her auburn hair and his tight black curls mixing into a warm brown with loose curls. He keeps it short, but long enough that each strand manages one or two curls before it reaches the end.

He has large hands and large feet, which look a little funny on him, because they are a little disproportionate, like he still has some growth left in him, though he has been done for many a-turn. He walks with a heavy step, unafraid of being heard, because he never had anything to fear for walking heavily, noticeably. Not only are his hands and feet large, but so is his nose. It's a bit of an unfortunate looking nose, really, a bit crooked and uneven, and a bit too large, a little too triangular, but in a strange lumpy sort of way. It's not necessarily unattractive, but it certainly doesn't fit with what people would call... well. Good looking. His overall appearance used to make up for that, but now rope-thick whiteish scars crisscross his face, cutting through his eyebrow and down his cheeks. He's clearly been through quite a bit physically in some way or another, and he'll have these scars for life to prove it. The scars run down his neck and across his chest, his pinky never moves on his left hand and there is intense scarring all along his left arm. His right leg, too, continues this awful scarring.

His lips are thick, pinkish and rather look very kissable when put aside from the scar-tissue. There's usually a bit of a shadow of hair on his upper lip, though it takes longer for the rest of the hair on his face to grow. He shaves regularly, and with his square jaw, that's probably a good thing. A beard would just look strange on him. Nevermind the chasm created by the scarring.

The most surprising, and certainly the most attractive portion of him though? His eyes. His wide eyes are large and framed with heavy dark lashes. They are a hazel hue, mostly green in the center, surrounded by brown, flecked with gold and blue. They are surprising in his dark face, exotic even. He shares the color of his eyes with his brother, though not their shape, as Lana's eyes are round and open, where Salanalay's were almond shaped. He's handsome, indeed, but certainly in his own way.

---

Personality:

Androgynous; Jovial; Well-meaning; Awkward; Loyal; Good humored; Laid back; Clumsy; Optimistic; Always Looking Forward

Lana is... ungendery. Though he physically appears quite solidly male, his personality can frequently say otherwise. In fact, his personality is absolute and totally androgynous. It's hard to explain. It's just this... laid back... He's comfortable with his body, and with who he is, and while he's quite firmly settled in "maleness," he just seriously doesn't care if he produces some sweet little giggle, or finds himself flirting femininely with some older man. He likes the color pink, and doesn't say it's because he's proud to be a man, or because he likes to have a man, but just because he does. Likewise, he also has times when he seems supercharged by testosterone. But most of the time, he's just firmly balanced in between.

Galanaven speaks softly and laughs often, in spite of the tragedies he has endured. Never looking behind him for longer than is necessary, he manages to remain jovial and good hearted, and he absolutely hates to hurt anybody, a trait that stems from the way he acted with his older brother. In his youth, it was his self-appointed duty to give Salanalay all that emotional love and care that he could, and eventually, this molded his own personality. Lana is excellent at keeping secrets, and is loyal to a fault. Even if his loyalty results in himself being hurt, he will follow people to the ends of the world if he must. But to enter this circle of people who he is so loyal to is pretty difficult. Even with this painfully strong loyalty, Lana is surprisingly laid back.

Ever since his mother and brother's death, Lana has been able to relax, no longer afraid of harming his brother by accident. As much as that might sound terrible, it is true that the loss of both were an important part of his growth, allowing him to enter a normal life. Though devastated by the loss of his brother, no longer having to walk on eggshells at all times has been positive, and with 'Vesk and the vast supportive network that he's developed within the Weyr, Lana has become an ultimately relaxed, laid-back guy. In fact, his laid back nature has become a bit of a clumsiness. He tends to walk without a care, which he did in his youth as well, but at least before he never knocked anything over. Now, rarely a sevenday passes without Lana having broken something. And he's so very laid back about it. It's no big deal, now! Where Salanalay would have frozen and panic to clean up any mess, Lana just sort of looks at it and cleans it as needed, but doesn't give it much thought.

Lana is an optimist, you see. Even when Alana was alive, Lana thought that she could still change, that things could get better. Even with the loss of his brother, Lana held on to the fact that at least Alana could no longer cause him anymore suffering, though he recognizes that it would have been best if nobody had ever lost their lives. What happened, happened, and Lana has found whatever positives there are that can come from such a loss. Likewise, whenever anything bad happens in the Weyr, Lana is certain that a brighter end is coming. After all, he has Galanavesk, right? It's Lana's optimism that saved him during his childhood, and that allows him to have such an easy demeanor now, as he exits young adult-hood. He's a sweet man, extremely friendly, always outgoing.

He always puts himself last, preferring to see others happy before bothering to care for himself. Fortunately, it's hard not to be happy around Lana, with as nice a guy as he is. He speaks well, with elegance, and is a bright young man. He studies hard, but finds himself at a loss with numbers. He certainly prefers his Beastcrafter studies to anything else, finding peace in working with them.

It has been suggested about Galanaven in the past five turns that he is, perhaps, not the best Sr. Wher"woman" the Weyr has ever seen, and that very may well be true. While 'Vesk is an ideal Queen, Lana is not the ideal Queen-Handler. Again, he's clumsy, he's relaxed, but there are some ways that that aids him. People want to listen to Lana, as kind and optimistic as he is. And the fact is, as optimistic as Lana is, there is a realistic conscience sitting inside his heart that tells him when looking at the sun, as beautiful as that seems, isn't a good idea. Lana is prone to mistakes, but he learns from them, and he takes criticism well (perhaps due to that laid-back nature). He takes everything with an even expression, and then plods forward to improve. In his first turn of being a Senior, Lana made many mistakes. Now, in his 5th turn of leadership, he only makes a few mistakes. And it's impossible to say that at 5 turns he is a veteran leader. So really, criticisms may come, but he hasn't been around for long, and he's willing to learn and improve, so maybe he isn't the worst Leader in the world.

---

History:
My brother and me? We were different children.

He was three when I was born, and it was Salanalay who was my first memory. I can remember him sitting with me, our mother absent. He was a gangly little thing, and in that hazy first memory of him that I have, I remember wondering why I looked so different from both him and Mama. He would try to teach me how to say some things, and other times, he told me how unhappy he was, how he didn't understand why Mama didn't love him like she loved me. I didn't know. None of it made sense to me. My first memory was of him crying. And that is far too like many other memories from my childhood.

I don't know why Mama hated him, but she did.

Compared to Salanalay, my childhood was almost normal. I went to lessons, I played with other children, I dreamed of dragonriding... But when I was home in my mother's weyr, things were different. Salanalay was a broken child, while I was apparently made of precious metals. Mama loved me, and showered me with gifts regularly, with marks that she saved. She was excellent with her marks. While I never did really understand my numbers, Mama was wonderful with them. She was a Healer, and needed maths when she was giving out medicine. That's what she explained to me one day when she brought me to work with her, to show off everything I could do, and I asked her why she was doing math. I was five, maybe six. I had just started learning how to add numbers together, and while most of my classmates got it, I was stuck.

It's kind of strange, really, the way I always hoped for her to change, for her to see how awesome my brother was. I loved Salanalay, and still do. He's my brother, my best friend in all the world. I did my best to show Salanalay this. I would always play with him, joke with him. If I had the choice between going out and playing with my friends and staying back in the weyr, I would stay back with Salanalay. Unfortunately, Mama eventually noticed this. And while she still let me stay with Salanalay, she would always come home and hurt him for something that I apparently did wrong, that he was horrid, a waste of space... She would beat him for not watching me properly. I told Salanalay that I wouldn't stay in the weyr anymore, but Salanalay would have none of it. I didn't understand then, but I stayed. I understand now that for Salanalay, it was worth the beatings to have someone to love him and care for him, to have a companion.

None of my friends, nor my teachers knew of what happened in the weyr, though there were rumors, and occasionally I got into fights with other boys when they asked me about my "retarded brother." That's what Alana told everyone, that he was retarded, and had to stay in her weyr, because the outside world caused him to have convulsions and seizures. They believed her. She was a Healer, after all. No one believed me when I tried to say he wasn't retarded, when I tried to say he was very smart. That he was more my caretaker than I, his. It was just the fantastic ideas of an optimistic child. I never gave wind of the beatings. I didn't know how to bring it up. I didn't want to lose Mama, and I just...

I was naпve.

I thought Mama would change. But she never did.

She would selfishly bring home gifts for herself, and frequently give them to me. I tried to pass some along to Salanalay, but he was so selfless. He wouldn't let me. He'd say they were for me, and no one else, and to keep him. I know now that he was trying to protect me. He didn't want her to turn on me, so he made sure to keep up the status quo. Keep her happy, and I'd be safe. We were eachother's keepers, really.

It was for my eighth turn day that she gave me a fire-lizard egg, keeping two large ones to herself. They were from two separate Clutches, she said, both Golds. Two eggs Hatched together, one of her two, and my one. A little blue came out of the egg for me, and he stayed with me. I named him Eritz, because I thought it sounded interesting. Mama's egg produced a Gold, and she eagerly began to feed it meat, but to no avail. The little queen wouldn't have anything to do with her, and flew off. She took her rage out on Salanalay that day, saying he did something. The same thing happened when the second egg Hatched some days later.

Even her dragon, Avenuth, didn't like her.

I don't remember much about it, but I remember that she got Firehead, and that she didn't die from it. After that, whatever had been left of her mind from before was truly and utterly lost. On my brother's 12th turnday, a day that only he and I remembered any longer we thought, Mama began to drink heavily. She drank, and drank, and screamed at Salanalay and me. I had never been screamed at by her, and I wasn't sure how to react. What do you do when you're normally the loved one, the favorite child, and suddenly your mother turns on you? I turned on her, and with all the strength of my ten-turn-old self, I smacked her in the face.

I barely remember what she said to me, but I remember what I said to her.

"Don't talk to me or my brother like that again. We're people, too," I told her. I don't remember if I yelled or whispered or talked like a normal person, but what she did next surprised me. She apologized, she apologized and told Salanalay and me that she loved us, and that she would do everything to fix what she had done to our lives, how she had ruined them... I didn't really understand, to be completely honest. I was ten turns old, and I thought I knew everything, but I was completely baffled by this.

When I went to bed that night, I asked Salanalay if he thought Mama was telling the truth.

"She don't never," was all he said before he went to his cot to sleep.

When I woke up, my family was gone.

I knew they were dead, but nobody would tell me how, or when, or why. Not for many Turns. I would eventually learn, long after Impressing 'Vesk, that my mother had stolen Salanalay away in the night. Avenuth had been too tired to fight, too exhausted, but she had managed to just barely tell Salanalay's father's dragon that Mama had lost her mind, and then they were gone, Between, never to be seen again. The keens, I am told, started slowly, with an awful lot of confusion. Nobody could understand why she had done this, nobody could believe that I had been telling the truth when I had tried to say that there was something wrong with Mama, and that Salanalay was normal...

I was confused and heartbroken though, right after their deaths, and I felt guilty because I missed Salanalay, but did not shed a single tear for Mama... I missed the gifts, I missed being spoiled, but... I knew deep inside my heart that so much had been wrong with my childhood. So I lived ignorant of this truth in the Crechй like a good boy and didn't say too much for my first turn out of my mother's reach. When I was 12, I was told I could stand to the egg, but I did not want to ride a dragon. I had started my Craft, by then, BeastHealing, and I usually worked at night with foaling mares, and looked forward to the thought of working with whers instead. So I opted to stand for them... The whers, that is. Though I did not blame Avenuth for what happened, and still do not, I could not imagine myself riding a dragon, even if I weren't doing my work at night. I attended the wher Hatchings, I worked my Craft, and I healed. It took me many turns to return to normal, and if it wasn't for Galanavesk, who Hatched at my very lowest point when I was 15 and horribly depressed, nearly suicidal, that I was able to smile again for real. It was she, with her simple logic, who was able to make me realize that I did not need to feel guilt for not mourning my mother. She was, as 'Vesk puts it, a "wherry-mother," unable to care for her own young. I miss Salanalay with all of my heart. He was my brother, my best friend, but life goes on, and at least he is no longer in pain.

You see, at fifteen turns, I couldn't understand that his pain had ended. Instead, pain was blossoming in my teenaged heart. I struggled with waking before midnight, and would often be asleep again by six in the morning, sleeping many hours at a time. I grew ill often, and often missed my lessons. I progressed slower than normal for an Apprentice of my age, and I didn't care. At 15, all the pain and sorrow of my loss had come to a head. I had been informed informed of the exact manner of Salanalay's death, of Alana's ultimate breakdown, and the fact that I could have done more to prevent it hit me like a rock to the back of my head. A half-turn before 'Vesk's egg Hatched, I wandered out of the Weyr in a fog. I woke a sevenday later in the infirmary's intensive care unit. A feline had attacked me as I wandered through the night, and the scars on my face and my paralyzed fifth digit is still here to show it. I thought that for sure I would not be allowed to Stand again, though my new disability was minor. My leg was broken from something -- I am not sure what, I don't remember the incident at all -- and after two months, the healing was complete and rehab began. I was lucky that when the next Hatching came arond, I was ready to Stand to the egg again, but my heart wasn't into it.

'Vesk was there, though, and she wasn't going to wait for me to catch up. She chose me instead of the girl her dam had demanded to come to the egg, and we've been partners ever since. I relearned optimism, I relearned life because of her.

Wherling Training was completed a half-turn prior to my 18th Turnday, and life was feeling normal again. I started noticing others, seeing more than just friends in them, but potential lovers, be they serious relationships, or casual flings, both of which I have since had my share of. Having such a high-ranked Wher meant that right away, though, I was shoved into work, which meant that my Craft was put aside, at least until I was able to begin to focus on healing Whers instead of Runners. Though there are Healers who focus on dragons and whers, there are none who focus exclusively on these denizens of the night, and so I have turned all of my attention to Whers. Just as well, as elder Gold Handlers of the Weyr have since passed away, leaving me to run things during the night. The responsibility is heavy, but it is nothing I can't handle, so long as I keep my 'Handlers in line. They know what their jobs are, and they are good people. I don't need to pull too many teeth to get things done. As long as I keep my own opinions regarding the South quiet, Maai and I have worked well together, though I find myself closer to Mairin as far as a conversation partner goes.

I took on the position of Sr. Wher...man? upon my twenty fourth turnday. A man, and young for such a role, perhaps, but not the youngest, nor the only male in history. Gold whers are oft rarer than Gold dragons, so it's not unusual for there to be quite the age difference in Sr and Juniors is freqently extensive. 'Vesk successfully laid a Gold egg early for average, and so perhaps now we will see less vast age differences for a few decades. We shall see. 'Vesk and I don't plan on going out any time soon, though, so there certainly won't be a youngling Senior for some time. It's been 5 turns now, since our promotion. The death of 'Vesk's dam was a sad day, but we were both prepared to take on the responsibility that came with her death. Here's to another five turns, and another five turns after that, and so on. I've weathered the worst that I can imagine. I don't think anything can faze me after that. And with Southern, be it threat or otherwise, looming in the distance, that's a pretty good thing I expect.

---

Appearance:
Length/Height:TBA ft/TBA hands
Species: Wher
Color: Gold
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Age: 14
Birth Season:Winter
Hex Codes: 4C4400 - CC6600 - CCCC00

Wing: Wingleader of Blackest Night

Appearance:
Length/Height:TBA ft/TBA hands

Lower slung than most whers, Galanavesk, better known as 'Vesk, is a powerfully built thing. Her limbs are short, but they move quickly, and she is as agile as the quickest Brown, though even she must admit that she is not so quick on her turns as a Blue or Green. In spite of her distinct musculature, Galanavesk seems especially slender thanks to the longness from nose to tail. At TBA feet, she is certainly not the longest Gold ever Hatched, but she is certainly among the shorter from shoulder to ground, and she takes advantage of this, slipping into spaces that even some smaller whers might struggle with for their lack of flexibility. Extremely snake-like, Vesk is capable of twisting backwards and touching her nose to the middle of her back. Having been born in an egg much smaller than the average wher of her size might Hatch from, it is speculated that the configurations she must have had to take while in the shell may very well have shaped her birth. Snake-like, 'Vesk can maneuver like few others. Like all whers, 'Vesk is not a pretty thing, but she is unique in that her headknobs are longer than average. As a result, she is surprisingly articulate, able to formulate sentences with minimal grammar errors, though her conceptual understanding is still average. Her snout, too, is especially long, giving her a nearly equine appearance.

In color, 'Vesk takes on a special type of ugly. She is eternally grayed in hue, never a true Gold, and never shining like those of her rank ought. She looks down-right unhealthy, and everything about her says ill. Her hide takes on much more green than is average for a Gold, giving her a somewhat bronzey-sheen in places, especially along her throat, giving her an almost grievously injured appearnce. Spidewebbing over her hide is a distinctly browning ichor-like color, though again, there is not nearly enough for her to be considered Green, nor is there enough for her to be considered a mutation blend. It is simply that her biology allows for Boron to color her much more than her Gold sisters. A dark orange-bronze-gold color dapples her hips like some sort of Appaloosa blanket. Her greeny gold hide might not be the prettiest thing a wher has ever sported, but 'Vesk takes pride in it, and with Lana's help, they keep her hide shining. So while the colors may be unpalatable to many, Lana finds her beautiful, and her hide is nothing if not healthy. When 'Vesk is sick, her hide actually takes on what seems to be a healthier gold color, losing some of the greeny hues. Lana understands this to be the equivalent of a human paling from pink to white, however, and always is cautious when she gets into states like these.



Personality:

Calm; Untrusting; Observant; Quiet; Sly; Iron-Fisted

'Vesk is not the type to like people, and she has good reasons. She is overly observant and highly cautious, and it takes a long time for her to even consider accepting someone as "Not Immediately Going to Attempt Assassination." It isn't that she thinks people (or dragons, or whers) are inherently evil, it's that she knows there are those few people in the world who are truly dangerous. In her youth, she said very little to anyone outside of Lana. Now, in her position as wher-Queen, she says considerably more. 'Vesk rarely compliments others, rarely verbally acknowledges their virtues, and for this reason, 'Vesk is often seen as a pessimistic hardass, harping on negative things, never seeming to see the good in the world. The fact is, 'Vesk does see the good in the world, but she sees little reason to mention it.

Outside of this, Galanavesk is decidedly calm. Little outrages her outwardly, though perhaps internally she could be boiling. Much like those positive comments that she does not share, 'Vesk does not like to show her anger. Her sweet voice nevertheless betrays some of the terrible things she feels. 'Vesk has an enormous heart, and she truly does feel the weight of the world on her shoulders. In part, this is what makes her an excellent wher-Queen. Both the fact that she bottles her true emotions, maintaining order before ever allowing a single ounce of sadness or anger to show. Those who know her well can feel a certain tension in her voice, but few can truly understand her turmoil. In addition to maintaining order by never letting her feelings get in the way, her bottling behavior also keeps her minions off balance. Is she angry? Is she upset? Is she praising me? As a result, most whers assume that she is constantly angry, due to her lack of praise and her to-the-point orders, and it keeps them decidedly in line.

Mindvoice:
Surprisingly delicate, Galanavesk's voice is a gentle whisper, a low alto that sounds like it belongs to a young milkmaid than anything else. She is surprisingly articulate, able to formulate sentences with minimal grammar errors compared to most whers. It may just be this capability, and her gentle voice, that allows her to rule over the whers in the Weyr with such an iron fist. 'Vesk won't take no for an answer, and when her voice maintains that sweet innocent tone, it is hard to not be a little creeped out. Her voice does not match her body-language, and it certainly does not match her determination to compel whers to do her bidding. Her voice never leaves that sweet "Yes Ma'am" sort of tone, but do not be fooled. She is the Ma'am, and you are the milkmaid serving underneath her.

History:
Lana was mine before 'Vesk Hatched. 'Vesk knew. 'Vesk could hear Lana. 'Vesk doesn't remember all things, but Hatching day? 'Vesk remembers this. Lana gave up, no more will to live left to him. His dam hurt him, hurt him in ways 'Vesk not completely understand, never completely understand. No teeth, no claws, not to Lana, but 'Vesk knows teeth and claws not only way to hurt. 'Vesk's won't admit, but he was ready to leave like Lana's dam. _I_ not let him.

Hatching was hard, egg too small for 'Vesk, but 'Vesk made it, and 'Vesk found broken Lana, and told Lana that Lana's dam was dirty wherry-mother, not deserve Lana. Lana have 'Vesk now, and 'Vesk have Lana.

Not remember much after, but remember when 'Vesk's Gold dam died, and 'Vesk took place at top. This 'Vesk's place, always has been, and 'Vesk won't let whers run amok. 'Vesk rule now, 'Vesk rule better than dragon. This 'Vesk knows, 'Vesk rule better, and Lana good partner, rules strong with 'Vesk. 'Vesk not need worry like dragons. 'Vesk better. 'Vesk _best_.

Parents: Gold Aiiturosk x Bronze Mroask
Egg: The Tiny Teakwood Egg of the Midnight Cabana Club Clutch

[. s p o r e ♪]

Well everyone, it's finally time to wrap up our second contest, and hopefully put everyone waiting anxiously for results out of their misery. Thanks to everyone who entered; you all did a great job, and it was difficult for Alre and I to choose a definite winner. But choose we did, so congratulations to Izzie and her new Seniorpair, Amani and Amanisk. Feel free to post up your new character to be accepted as an official wherhandler.

To Ricci and Dana, who both completed entries and did a really good job, you each get a consolation prize consisting of a completely random flitter or crawler. Claim it whenever you wish.