An older rider, tall, lean, and mean-looking, came in to get new leathers for making riding straps. "They're still Searching for th' clutch at Alabaster." He told the journeyman tanner while he waited.

L'ran just happened to be walking past the doorway when he said this, and stopped momentarily. "Isn't that clutch near to Hatching?" he called, moving on to put the hide into the stone vat.

The rider, waiting patiently for the journeyman to bring his hides, called back. "Aye, lad. What's it to ye?"

L'ran walked past the doorway again, responding. "My brother's to Stand for that cluch, sir."

The rider cocked an eyebrow, and thanking the journeyman for the hides, went to stand in the doorway. He surveyed L'ran carefully, as he carried the next still-hairy hide to the liming vat and let it slowly slide in, careful not to splash the liquor out of the stone vat.

"You're Dulveth's rider, are ye not?" the rider asked.

"Yessir," L'ran replied, a prideful smile on his face. "My brown will surely be magnificent when he is fully grown."

The weyrling's youthful exaggerated praise of his dragon brought a soft, reminicent smile to the older man's face. "So you've one of Blackstone Weyr.'s browns, and your brother was Searched as well? You've a good family... your da a Rider?"

L'ran nodded, sliding the last of the hides into the vat, so they could soak, the start of the de-hairing process. "My father rode a bronze, and my mother a gold, or so they say. I don't remember either of them but vaguely." L'ran said, walking to wash his hands and arms as a journeyman took over, releasing him for weyrling drills.

"Gold and Bronze?" the rider prompted, curious.

The broad-shouldered L'ran nodded again, as he scrubbed with sweetsand, watching it foam slightly. "My mother went when my sister was born, but I never met her. She should be around 17 turns now..." L'ran said, reaching for a towel.

The older rider was clearly puzzled. "Wasn't she fostered within the weyr?"

"No," L'ran said. "Mother wouldn't tell who her father was, and none of the riders would admit to being the man, so they fostered her to a hold, and Sylarn and I have never seen her. Don't even know her name." L'ran said, as he headed for the door.

The older rider sighed, and followed him out. "Maybe you'll find her someday, L'ran. You never know. Maybe she'll be Standing with Sylarn at Alabaster. Maybe she's already Impressed."

The words touched L'ran, and he stopped. Though he stood 5'10", the world seemed so big. "Maybe." he said.

Suddenly, L'ran got that far-away look that most weyrlings got when their dragons bespoke them. Are you coming?

Yes, Dulveth. I come L'ran responded in kind, looking at the older rider. "I must go, or I'll be late. It was nice talking with you."

The older rider went his own way, shaking his head. What a tragedy, having a younger sister, but not being able to take care of her? How strange.

L'ran walked into the weyrling barracks, and rubbed Dulveth's head. "Come on, you... don't want to be late." he said, cheerfully as he could manage.

Don't worry about her now. We've got drills to worry on. the brown said, walking along beside his lifelong friend.

They arrived in the training field, not first, but far from last. The Weyrlingmaster, with a strange glint in his eye, gazed at the weyrlings. "Today," he said, when all the weyrlings were present, and the latecomers scolded, "we learn about 'stone."

Firestone Dulveth murmured to his rider, eyes whirling quickly in his excitement. Some of the others fidgeted, and were rewarded with stern glares.

Senior weyrlings brought around sacks, and poured out piles of stones between each pair of dragons. It was a soft, sandy color, and clearly not the firestone they were expecting.

"You didn't expect firestone on the first try, did you?" The Weyrlingmaster laughed. "We wouldn't want any accidental flamings, or wrongly swallowed 'stone, now would we?"

The weyrlings and their dragons were quick to reply in chorus "No, sir!"

"Now, get a good-sized stone, and give it to your dragon." The Weyrlingmaster said, and everyone scrambled to comply.

L'ran got one, and stood in front of Dulveth, holding it. The dragon looked down at him, and opened his mouth. "Here it is, Dulveth." L'ran said, giving the sandstone a gentle toss into his friend's gaping maw.

Dulveth chewed dutifully, grinding up the stone between his large molars. Am I done chewing yet? he asked.

"I don't know, Dulveth." L'ran laughed. "How crushed up is it?"

Dulveth opened his mouth carefully, displaying the marble-sized pieces of sandstone. L'ran tried not to laugh, suddenly remembering the old childish "seafood" joke -- 'do you like seafood?' 'yeah' a child opens his mouth. 'see! food!' and of course, the children would laugh.

See food. I get it. Dulveth said, eyes whirling in draconic laughter as he closed his mouth and chewed some more.

"Okay, Dulveth. Think of your second stomach." L'ran said, reminding the dragon where the stone was to go.

I'd rather think of the first one. I'm hungry. the dragon replied, and L'ran gave him a look. I will think of my second stomach. Dulveth replied, and swallowed.

By sunset, all of the weyrling fighting dragons had successfully chewed and swallowed stone to their second stomach, and were given true firestone, and produced their first flame, and they all were happy... for now.

Onward! To See the adult Dulveth...