Amontillado
				As soon as she stepped in, the whole house went quiet.  Amontillado did her best to ignore the silence, placing the sack of spiderclaws in the corner, where it fell, a few of the dead crustaceans falling across the floor.  "This is about Talor Cliff, isn't it?" she asked, looking from parent to parent.  "They want me to come and stand, don't they?  I really don't care, I can't go anyways." "Yes you can!" Erilam said sharply, pushing back her chair as it clattered to the floor.  No one told her to pick it up, and she made no move to correct it, herself.  "You can do anything just as well as any normal person can..." At that Amontillado grew very red in the face.  "You say that because I'm not normal," she said softly.  "I'm not normal, and everyone here knows it, they just don't want to admit it.  Talor Cliff wants me, but that's not because I'm normal.  It's because some stupid dragonet on the sands might want to bond with me!" Her brown-haired yonger sister glared back.  "And isn't that reason enough for going?  Think about it, Amontillado.  I'd DIE for this chance!  Talor Cliff is one of the most prestigious Weyrs on all of Pern, and you're turning down because you have some STUPID problem with your hand that isn't EVEN A PROBLEM!" At that the family sprang into action, Ohmsford springing up from his chair to right Erilam's, her mother's face beginnig to turn slightly scarlet.  "Erilam." she said in a dangerous whisper.  "Go back to your room.  Now.  And if you say one more word, then I swear to Faranth that I'll lay a switch to your hide and you won't be able to sit down for a month."
		Erilam looked as though she was about to say something, but then shut up and walked quickly to her room.  "Amontillado, it's your own decision if you want to stand or not, and you shouldn't listen to whatever Erilam says.  That's what she would do if she were you, not what you have to do." "Yes, ma'am," Amontillado said quickly, happy that her mother wasn't putting on the hopeful face that she'd had the first few times that a Weyr had come looking for her as a Candidate.  "I'll think about it, though." Triss, who had been quiet and gone from the whole conversation, blinked back from between to perch on Amontillado's shoulder.  "Thanks, Triss," she whispered quietly as she headed back to her room, her appetite suddenly abated. It was entirely quiet for a few minutes, in which the young woman laid on her bed and attempted to fall asleep.  However, it didn't work, and she tossed and turned on her bed with thoughts toward Talor Cliff.  Maybe she was normal, maybe Erilam was right.  Maybe she could go and stand. "Maybe," Amontillado whispered angrily.  "I hate maybes." There was a loud bugle from outside, and a rustling as something landed in front of the cotholding.  'Oh, no,' Amontillado thought to herself as she scrambled out of bed, still fully dressed.  'A Searchdragon.' Continue...