Unlike other candidates, who had probably been at Libertas long enough to fully acclimate themselves to the schedule of the place and then some, Daeron wasn't lounging in his quarters or doing some other thing that involved that particular room. No, instead he was wandering the Weyr, taking in all of the sights with eager eyes and committing them to memory at the same time. Never mind what Nero said, he thought with a smile as he moved through the people, giving a respectful nod towards some random person every so often as he walked on. Nero
could go ahead and head back to their little cothold out in the very back of beyond again and have little to no contact with the outside world, if that was what he really wanted. He
, however, was starting to develop other plans. First and foremost in the young man's mind was the fact that he was really starting to enjoy the hustle and bustle of this place, as well as the knowledge that there were new people to meet just about every day. If he was guessing correctly that new candidates were brought into the Weyr at a fairly steady pace, that was. Which naturally meant that, since he was rather new to the idea of Weyr life and everything, he could and likely was wrong on all accounts there. Whichever the case was, the young man decided it was better, for the time being anyway, to live in the here and now. It made things all the simpler for someone like him, after all; and if there was one thing that he could appreciate, it was simplicity.//Exqueeeeese me, candidatepeoples! QuinnMine is you Candimaster, and he says you to come out to outside now. Has lesson for yous.//
He flinched a bit at the suddenness of that voice entering his thoughts, though he was almost certain that he actually physically heard the voice as well. But really, that couldn't be the case, could it? Still, he couldn't stop himself from glancing around, as if he could actually locate the source of it by simply looking around. How foolish was he being at the moment, in all honesty? He shook his head before glancing around one last time, trying to decide if anyone who was standing around him thought of him as some sort of dimglow. A blush dusted across his cheeks as he slipped back towards the candidate barracks at what the voice added to its previous statement. Well, what he
added, since there was really no denying in the slightest that the voice was masculine. He figured that if the creature, since he was unsure if it was a dragon or wher speaking, specifically mentioned good shoes, that meant that they would be doing some sort of physical labor. And as comfortable as the tunic and trousers he was currently wearing were, they really weren't suitable for anything like that. Now, the clothes he was wearing when he arrived at Libertas were good, sturdy traveling clothes. Those would do rather nicely, if he did say so himself.
After a short time, he stepped into the room in the candidate barracks that he shared with his brother and Ghost. The canine was gone, likely following Nero around as he always did, so he simply changed his clothes and slipped back out of the room, heading back out into the Weyrbowl so that he could figure out exactly which sort of creature had spoken to him just then. A part of him hoped that it had been a wher and not a dragon, since he still hadn't gotten a real chance to look at one of the whers here at Libertas up close in the days that he'd been there. Still, it wasn't as if he would refuse to attend the lesson just for that reason. No, he knew to take what he was given, and was more than content to do just that. As he stepped closer to a small group of two young men and a rather stunning white wher, he wondered if he had actually stumbled in on the right place. The young man standing with the wher did
look rather young, after all. He was even younger than Daeron was himself! But the young man silently cursed himself as the thought entered his mind; obviously he was more than capable of teaching them what to expect both during and after their candidacy, if his wher was calling them to a lesson.
"My name is Daeron, Candidatemaster," he said by way of introduction to the young wherhandler, inclining his upper body slightly into a respectful bow as he took a place near the other young man standing there. Pale blue eyes glanced both the fellow candidate and the candidatemaster over, finding that he didn't feel threatened in the least by them and relaxing a bit more, linking his thumbs into the waistband of his trousers as his gaze fell upon the wher. The white was positively huge
, easily besting even Nero's prized draft runners in height, and he wondered if this was the way all
white whers were. Perhaps it was just this one in particular? Whichever the case, he couldn't wait to see the look on his brother's face when he saw the white for himself.