A Means to an End (Open)

[phlysolo]

Here is where it had begun...And where it had ended. Just by peering in, it was impossible to discern where blood had splattered the sands, where a green dragonet had launched herself between...and where another female Candidate had been left standing all together. Lenia was standing at the entrance to the Cavern, leaning against the wide entrance's wall. Her arms were folded across her chest and she was staring almost emotionless inside of the ground.

Though there was no one inside and it had long since fallen completely dark- a stray, dead glow lay here and there - Lenia could see inside of it just as clearly as if Rubat itself was hovering on the cavern's ledges. Images and the memories of dragons and Candidates played out before her eyes and she could see...no she couldn't see at all...herself standing alone, always alone before eventually leaving partnerless as the last of the shells hit the Sandy floor.

What was wrong with her? What was it inside of her that turned each and every one of those dragonets, male and female, away from her? Was she too hostile? Was she so blinded by her own ambition that all the dragonets thought she would only see them as some kind of tool for her own gain? Was she nothing more than that idiotic Lorisette who had killed for the very same reasons?

A sign escaped the tall Candidate's lips and she dragged her hand across her pale face. If anyone were to have spared the girl a glance, they would have seen just how sad she really looked. Lenia hadn't slept properly for days now and it was starting to show. There were dark circles under her eyes and her hair was starting to stick together in those spidery little clumps that were tell-tale signs that she was probably neglecting her hygiene as well.

But what was anyone to expect out of a depressed Candidate who was questioning her very existence?

[zenith]

"You don't look so good." The voice came from behind her, and slightly upward. It was fairly deep, as well, and all that indicated that whoever had just walked up on her was an adult male.

T'ron stopped in the entrance, himself, though near the other edge. He looked out across the dark sands for a moment, before looking at her. "There will be another clutch. This one happened ... there will be another." He assured her. The brownrider had been out wandering around a bit, having had nothing to do at the moment.

He couldn't possibly know everything that was running through her head, but he could make a fair guess. She not only didn't impress the Queen ... either of them ... she hadn't impressed at all. And like most candidates do, before he impressed, he too had been left standing a few times. So he knew what that was like.

But then he hadn't been a gold-hunting girl in a time when dragons hatching was a totally iffy thing. So maybe he didn't know what exactly she was feeling. However ... he could honestly say that she didn't look very well.

[phlysolo]

"You don't look so good."

And who was this stranger, this man by the sound of his voice, to tell her that? Did he think that she herself did not know it? Did he think that by pointing the sad fact that it would somehow open up Lenia's tired and defeated eyes to see the light at the end of the tunnel? What kind of foolishness was this?

Lenia turned slowly, darkly, her hair cascading over her face in vampiric locks that seemed to suck what little color was left in her face away. Her piercing blue eyes traveled quickly up the man's body in mild irritation, her eyes transfiguring on his shoulder knots. A brownrider. A rider. Of course this fool would say that.

"Oh, certainly there will undoubtedly be another," She replied coolly, leaning once more against the wall of the Hatching Ground. "It is not that that I fear, it is the knowledge that I shall more than likely be left alone again. Twenty four dragonets. Twenty four!!"

Her voice edged with pent-up frustrations, but her words told wonders about her. She had not counted the two queen dragons that had birthed in the Clutch and indeed had passed over them as though they had not Hatched at all.

"If I wasn't even good enough for a green then what hope is there for me?"

[zenith]

T'ron watched her reaction in silence, not at all put out. In his years as first a Candidate himself, and then as a rider afterward, he'd seen all the various reactions that came out of the rejects. "You have to understand, miss. Right now we're a little short on dragons. People are going to have to wait. This time, that just happened to be you. Who knows? Next time you could be the one with a new lifemate that will absorb all of your time, waking and sleeping." he told her, cooly. "All your being left standing means is that your dragon has not been laid yet. Just remember to stay positive. Walking onto those sands with a negative attitude will definitely lessen your chances ... and might even get you mauled." He advised her.

But he also knew that there was very little he could say to her that would penetrate through that frustration. More than likely, all he could do was make her more pissed. And that wasn't his intention. It seemed that some candidates thought that there was no one else, anywhere, who really knew what they were going through. And that just wasn't true. Not that that would make them listen any better, but ... ah well.

There wasn't anything he could do about that either.