Post by cerise on Mar 8, 2009 22:14:53 GMT -6
Halmari was hiding.
Perhaps it was in plain sight, hiding with the bustle of people all around her, but the young woman was hiding nonetheless, ill at ease with her new living situation. She could not call it a home - she had barely been dropped off by the Searchdragon a few scant hours ago. There was no guarantee that this Weyr, even this continent, would become a home for her. With a girl of her age, from the life she had lived, there was no guarantee of anything.
She was amongst a great mass of people in one of the smaller dining halls, partaking of the midday meal. Meals at the Weyr, she had found, were less formalized than at the Hold; dragonriders and Candidates alike, as well as the weyrfolk with nothing to do with dragonkind, all ate together, a study in merriment. She didn't like it. It seemed... unnatural almost, all this conversation and jollity. Oh yes, there was a clutch on the sands, that was a cause for excitement, but nearly every face displayed a sort of open smile, an expression that the girl just could not comprehend. Certainly it had never been seen on her own face.
Hunched down over her plate at a corner of an empty table, spine ramrod straight but shoulders curling down as if to hide something, Halmari watched the happenings of the weyr with her strange grey eyes, keeping her face closed and neutral, unreadable. She knew how to be unreadable. For the first time in ages her hair was left down and loose, curtaining her face, allowing her to peer out from that additional cover as if it made her more secure. In fact, it made her more noticeable - no one else was acting as she was.
But if she made the effort to fit in, then someone would probably come by, try to strike up a conversation with her, try to be friends. She knew none of these people, and none of them knew her; there were to be no friendships, yet. She could not allow them. So instead of even trying to fit into the Weyr's social order, Halmari sat, barely touching her food, staring at the people around her as though they were alien, denizens of some strange new world.
To her, they were.
Perhaps it was in plain sight, hiding with the bustle of people all around her, but the young woman was hiding nonetheless, ill at ease with her new living situation. She could not call it a home - she had barely been dropped off by the Searchdragon a few scant hours ago. There was no guarantee that this Weyr, even this continent, would become a home for her. With a girl of her age, from the life she had lived, there was no guarantee of anything.
She was amongst a great mass of people in one of the smaller dining halls, partaking of the midday meal. Meals at the Weyr, she had found, were less formalized than at the Hold; dragonriders and Candidates alike, as well as the weyrfolk with nothing to do with dragonkind, all ate together, a study in merriment. She didn't like it. It seemed... unnatural almost, all this conversation and jollity. Oh yes, there was a clutch on the sands, that was a cause for excitement, but nearly every face displayed a sort of open smile, an expression that the girl just could not comprehend. Certainly it had never been seen on her own face.
Hunched down over her plate at a corner of an empty table, spine ramrod straight but shoulders curling down as if to hide something, Halmari watched the happenings of the weyr with her strange grey eyes, keeping her face closed and neutral, unreadable. She knew how to be unreadable. For the first time in ages her hair was left down and loose, curtaining her face, allowing her to peer out from that additional cover as if it made her more secure. In fact, it made her more noticeable - no one else was acting as she was.
But if she made the effort to fit in, then someone would probably come by, try to strike up a conversation with her, try to be friends. She knew none of these people, and none of them knew her; there were to be no friendships, yet. She could not allow them. So instead of even trying to fit into the Weyr's social order, Halmari sat, barely touching her food, staring at the people around her as though they were alien, denizens of some strange new world.
To her, they were.