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Dalibor is a semi-canon Dragonriders of Pern site. No knowledge of the series or site is required to join; players of all experience levels are welcome here. Founded in 2008 on Proboards and moved to Jcink in 2013, Dalibor has been running for eight years.

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With Mutorin of Dalibor's discovery that a number of plants found in the southern jungles can be used as a remedy to stave off the worst of the still unnamed 'plague' the fatalities seem to have tapered off. Most of Dalibor's ill have recovered, if only in time to mourn their losses. Even still a number of Dalibor's wings and prides have seen fit to transfer away following their recovery, as if the Weyr itself was responsible for such a disastrous event - not realizing the plague was spread to the far reaches of Pern by a handful of persons that broke the quarantine in their delirious state.

All things considered life is moving forward calmly for the denizens of Dalibor Weyr and its beholden Holds. Western Hold welcomes new blood in the form of a young couple, Lord Holder Basasius and Lady Holder Baria. Only time will tell what the new Lord and Lady Holder will bring to their Hold, but all are hoping for none but good fortune.
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Arlya of Burgundy Xerocleth - Rowana

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Rilorden of Blue Gabranth - Zane
Nia of Pink Koeneth - Catsitta
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Dalibor was created by Bre, continued by Cathaline, and is now owned and operated by Ruin. Most of the information, rules, and graphics were made, compiled, or written by staff with credit given to those whose resources they used. Stock thanks to credited parties. All characters and posts are copyrighted to the members of the game. No material from this site should be copied in any way, shape, or form without utter express permission from the members and staff. All references to worlds and characters based on Anne McCaffrey's 'Dragonrider of Pern' series are copyright Anne McCaffrey 1967-2017, all rights reserved. The Dragonriders of Pern is registered U.S. Patent and Trademark Office, by Anne McCaffrey, used here with general permission for non-commercial purposes without monetary gain.

 
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 Breathing Underwater, AU:17 (Sakoru/Catsitta)
Sakoru
 Posted: Oct 1 2017, 02:27 AM
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I didn’t know you could hang people up like that. Emath, thoroughly impressed by his rider’s skill, hummed with amusement. Upon seeing the long scratches on the side of his rider’s face, the burgundy had paused to take stock of the situation. Ruane didn’t seem badly wounded, and he didn’t feel much more than a sting through their bond, so he decided it was of no consequence and carried on. The bites in her arm hurt a little more, but neither half of the pair cared all that much. Emath, while he recognized bullying as a bad thing, also didn’t think that what Ruane had done strictly counted as bullying. The kid had been a brat, after all, and she hadn’t hurt him. Just… terrorized him a little. Right?

Oh, you can, Ruane assured him cheerfully, and then paused. Was that…? Oh, shells. Koeneth was gliding toward them to block their way. Emath cocked his head at the pink dragon, relatively unconcerned by her presence, and stopped. His halted too, more slowly. Ignoring the dragon’s approach, the burgundyweyrling turned her head away from her, glancing back over her shoulder. ”Shit,” she murmured softly under her breath. Great. Just great.

Emath glanced at her. I guess you’re in trouble again, he remarked conversationally. Emath didn’t quite grasp the concept that Ruane being in trouble was a bad thing, because she didn’t generally see it that way. Indeed, being in trouble was pretty much the norm for them, so the burgundy didn’t think much of it.

This time, Ruane’s face tightened, and she turned, stiff-necked, in the direction of the weyrling barracks when she heard Nia’s voice. Guess I am, she agreed sullenly, and started walking to the weyrlingmaster’s office yet again. She did not wait for Nia. When she was in trouble, she at least didn’t try to deny it, or get out of it. That much could be said of her character… although it was precious little, given that she didn’t try too hard to stay out of trouble.

Might as well hang out with Koeneth. You’re probably just fine, Ruane told her bonded sourly, and slipped through the door into Nia’s office. Did she have to get caught at everything? Had she lost her touch, or had she just stopped caring, enough that she didn’t bother to be sneaky anymore? The burgundyweyrling guessed it was the latter. Truth be told, she felt a little like she had throughout her entire childhood, growing up under her father’s tyrant reign. Dalibor wasn’t as hopeless as her father’s house had been, but the way things were going now, it felt close.

Ruane didn’t bother to grin, waiting for Nia to come through the door. She stood off to the side, pre-emptively refusing even to go near the chair the weyrlingmaster would surely ask her to sit in. Narrowed hazel eyes fixed on the door, and the weyrling hooked her thumbs defiantly through her belt loops, noticing too late the bandage wrapped around her right hand. Right. She’d forgotten about that.

But why bother hiding it at this point? She was already deep underwater this time, so why try?

@Catsitta


"Branches may stop the ordinary man, but B'tor "slapper of jungle cats" is no ordinary man."
- Zane
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Catsitta
 Posted: Oct 1 2017, 05:36 PM
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Nia followed Ruane into the weyrlingmaster office and shut the door behind them. She was quiet. Starkly quiet compared to her usual, bubbly self. She didn't sit behind her desk. Instead, she stood before the weyrling and stared at her. She let the silence draw heavy betwixt them, a suffocating veil. And then, she brushed it away with the gentlest of voices, "You're injured." Nia noted the bandaged hands, bruised arms and scratched face. She looked like she got into a drag out fight. And fighting wasn't permissible. Nia swallowed.

"Ruane, I was alerted to a situation at the stables," she said. "I wish for your side of the story. Please do not fight me on this. Acting like you don't care will neither save your pride or improve your situation. Because as it stands, you may have backed us both into a corner." Nia placed herself within Ruane's personal space. "Now, will you let me help you? Because you need to get those injuries tended at the infirmary sooner than later."

Outside, Koeneth curled by Emath.

MyNia is frightened. the pink remarked to the young burgundy. Yours' actions have upset her greatly. Her head tiled as she added in a dreamy voice, Little jagged eggshells, broken on the floor. Cracked, smashed, shattered by the one that tends the nest. Such fragile little eggshells. Sharp by make instead of choice. Her tail flicked. Yours hurts because she was hurt. At least, this is what Mine thinks. Like the little ones in the creche who always hid their bruises.

The pink lifted her head. Perhaps the burgundy had insight he would provide.

Care to tell me what happened in the stables?

.

@Sakoru


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Sakoru
 Posted: Oct 1 2017, 09:53 PM
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Ruane had sensed the change in Nia from the moment she heard her call. Her own name spoken in that voice had made the weyrling nervous for the first time since she had joined the pinkrider’s weyrling class. Now she waited the brief moments until the pinkrider followed her, shutting the door and locking them both into this too-small room. Ruane said nothing, staring dark and still at the woman until Nia broke the silence, pointing out her injuries. The burgundyweyrling shifted, pulling one elbow slightly behind the line of her ribs as if that would hide the bite marks on her arm. She didn’t reply, only watched Nia with the intensity of a hunting bird and tightened her hands where they rested on her hips. The weyrlingmaster was nervous. Familiarity went two ways; just as the pinkrider could read some of Ruane’s emotions, so could the weyrling read hers.

Of course the little brat had squealed. That was the burgundyweyrling’s first thought when Nia started. Of course, the woman asked for her side of the story, but Ruane wondered how much good that would really do. Would the pinkrider even believe that she hadn’t done anything serious, or had she already decided that her student was a monster, a lost cause? Requesting an easy answer meant nothing to the weyrling; she only stared into the woman’s face until she finished talking, suggesting that she had backed them both into a corner.

And then Nia literally backed her into the corner, or at least that was what it felt like. Ruane’s reaction was instant; she whipped out of the way as if the woman had come at her with a dagger instead of simply stepping up to her face. Her violent movement ended several feet away; she came to stand with wary eyes and beating heart, watching Nia with a jaw so tight it ached. Ruane was not stupid. She knew very well what it looked like had happened, with the scratches on her cheek and her bite marks and broken knuckles. ”I’m fine. They’ll heal,” she snapped, and for possibly the first time her reaction to the weyrlingmaster was angry rather than sarcastic.

”Ya want my side’a the story? Fine.” Hazel eyes flashed, and it was clear by the look on her face that Ruane expected nothing good to come of anything she said. ”The little brat mouthed off ta me so I hung him up.” Her face twisted in a jagged grin as the weyrling stalked back to Nia, quivering with furious energy suddenly snapped loose. ”Or were ye lookin’ fer the rest?” She held up her bandaged hand, gestured at the gouges in her face, put herself on display as she always did when anyone pushed her. ”Ye wanna hear how I beat the tar outta him first? Hit him where ye can’t see the bruises, pushed him around so he had ta fight me ta get away wi’ as little as he did? How I twisted his arm so I could get him still enough ta get his sleeves behind his head and told him I’d break it if he moved before I was done?” Her vicious smile cracked. ”Or how ‘bout the way I tied him wi’ my belt so I could hit him again without him gettin’ free when I hung him up?”

Inches from the weyrlingmaster’s face, the burgundyweyrling breathed, ”is that what ye wanted ta hear, Nia?”

Emath let Koeneth curl up next to him, and indeed flopped down beside her, reaching out to bat idly at her tail with a forepaw. That only lasted a moment or two, and then he tucked his forepaws under his chest and cocked his head at the pink as she spoke. Koeneth did not seem as upset as her rider, which he thought to be a good thing. Of course, Emath was quite fond of the pink, no matter that he had a difficult time doing as she asked in her lessons.

Eyes turning slow shades of green and orange as the weyrlingmaster told her story, the burgundy said nothing. No dumber than His, he knew quite well what she was implying – but if truth be told, he did not know the answer to her unspoken questions, and even if he had, Emath did not know if he should tell Ruane’s secrets. She had many – that he knew, but he did not know the content of her life, or the dark and shadowed things that crawled in the corners of her mind. Probably to avoid hurting him, she kept those things from him as she kept them from everyone, even though her burgundy had asked many times to let him see what it was she was hiding.

So when Koeneth asked what had happened in the stables, Emath leaped at the chance to say what he could, in defense of his rider. She just came in from riding her runner, he started, sitting up suddenly and wrapping his tail tightly around his haunches. I was bored so I told her to come out, and she was just about done anyway, but then the kid came up and started saying some dumb things and calling her runner fat and saying Ruane smelled. I don’t know. Just dumb stuff. She wasn’t really mad. Emath fluttered his stubby wings. She let him blab a little bit and then decided to hang him off the hook, I guess. She just wrestled him a little until she could tie his sleeves and used her belt so he wouldn’t fall out of his shirt.

The burgundy paused, lifting a hind paw to scratch behind a headknob. She just stuck him on the hook and put her runner away and walked off. She didn’t hurt him, Koeneth. Eyes softening to a blue swirl, Emath looked up to the older dragon, flapping his wings once, decisively. My Ruane isn’t cruel. She just thought it would be funny to leave him up there.

Ruane was in great distress. He could feel her there, had the sensation that her energy was whipping around her like a tornado as she lost her temper at last. Emath crooned sorrowfully, rising to take a step in the direction of the barracks behind them before moving back toward Koeneth. Koeneth, she’s very afraid. His voice wavered, and he tossed his head, fluttering his wings again and again. She feels like… a little like I did, on my hatching day.

@Catsitta


"Branches may stop the ordinary man, but B'tor "slapper of jungle cats" is no ordinary man."
- Zane
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Catsitta
 Posted: Oct 1 2017, 11:12 PM
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Koeneth crooned softly, attempting to soothe the agitated burgundy. She didn't need him betweening because His couldn't keep her emotions in check. Not quite half grown in terms of maturity, he was vulnerable. Precious and delicate and oh-so-fragile. He almost stepped away but returned to her. She shaded him with an unfolded wing. The baby was almost her size. Though even if he were twice that, she would have done the same thing. He needed to feel safe.

Her eyes whirled with Hers' own emotions.

They fear so needlessly. the pink stated. Humans are strange in their denial. Emotional over what they cannot change. It is better to accept what is instead of letting despair discolor life. She tilted her head towards the barracks. Hers was reaching for her. Bidding her for any further information. Grasping for help, hope...resolution.

She folded her front paws, 'Emath claims that his did not hurt the boy and that the boy instigated.' Their conversation flickered between rider and dragon, conveying what the pink was told, and how she perceived it. If they were fortunate, they would come to terms with this predicament.

Within the office, Nia had yet to say another word. Ruane's rant and violent jump back made more questions than it answered. Even with Koeneth's account, she knew there had to be consequences. Eventually she found her voice. "Ruane, tying up a child and hanging him from a hook to be found later isn't appropriate. Ever. Emath insists you weren't trying to do further violence to the boy," who appeared to have done some damage himself, "and you, instead of answering my questions, are being evasive and implying you were trying to hurt the boy more. Ruane...this...this behavior can't continue. You keep ignoring every tool I try to give you to resolve your problems. You flout my authority. And your conflict resolution skills keep getting you right where you stand now. Something has to change."

She was calm. No hint of anger or distress broke the levelness of her tone. Distressing Ruane meant distressing Emath.

"Ruane. Do you realize how much you are hurting Emath? He is a hardy dragon, but he is young. He is self concious. Your fear is his fear. Your anger is his anger. My job, Ruane, is to not only make you ready to join the wings, but to keep the both of your safe. I have to protect you. Every one of you. And I fear...I fear that if something doesn't change, I will lose you both. Which is why, I am going to ask you this question. If you were in my shoes, looking at a student that you fear is a danger to themselves and in turn, others...what would you do?"

.

@Sakoru





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Sakoru
 Posted: Oct 2 2017, 12:17 AM
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Emath accepted Koeneth’s extended wing without fighting. Unlike His, he was sometimes capable of accepting help where it was offered. Uncertain, he sat under the shade of the pink’s wing, and then flipped his own wings up to touch hers, one of his wingtips brushing hers. Mine does not think she can let go, he said after a moment, and hummed, unsurely. Emath’s distress originated mainly in the fact that he did not know how to calm His. Ruane’s emotions were violent and overwhelming, great vicious weapons that showed themselves mainly when she could no longer hold them. One of them could understand and love the other, and be there when needed, but it seemed a common fault of both that they could not accept their own flaws, or their mistakes. Emath refused to fly, and in her way so did Ruane.

Both were silly, that way.

Seeking something to do besides fidget over His, for she was lost inside the barracks and accepted his mental pokes with only a flickering of warm affection, Emath sat on his haunches and tucked his paws tight against his chest. Up he stretched his nose, reaching back to poke Koeneth’s wing, and then he flopped down and snuggled against the pink, resting his muzzle on his paws. Ruane can’t let things be without controlling them, he said after a moment, so she makes them worse. The burgundy sighed. Koeneth… does Yours do the same? Or is it only my Ruane who is lost in her own storm?

Nia was silent, for long enough that it gave Ruane time to still, time to let the rage drain from her as suddenly as water out of an opened dam. Even she would admit that hanging a child in the stable was probably not her finest move… although with an awful freezing feeling, the weyrling suddenly realized how much worse she had probably made the situation. Given, that was her one true talent, and some of it at least was deliberate. So as Nia spoke, the burgundyweyrling let her, inching back to widen the space between them, lowering her head ever so slightly. Someone that knew her very well might recognize that Ruane was both very afraid, and very ashamed of herself.

All of what the weyrlingmaster said was absorbed in total silence, and after a few moments Ruane’s gaze slipped away from Nia to land on the floor and stay there. As she spoke, the weyrling reached out to touch Emath’s mind, silently, and unexpectedly he enveloped her consciousness in warmth, wrapping around her like a soft blanket. She clung to the sense of him even when the pinkrider’s question forced her back to reality, and muted colour rose in her face, burning her.

”I don’t know,” she whispered, and backed away, shaking her head. ”I don’t know.” Still she wouldn’t meet the weyrlingmaster’s eyes; she curved away from her, as if she could deflect the enormity of all that she’d done. Something about the way she stood suggested that she wanted to say more, but the hazel eyes flickered from the floor to the pinkrider and back again with uncertainty. Should she, she wondered? Should she dare to take that risk, when it felt like a thousand-foot free-fall?

Ruane’s gaze slid away again, and she was silent for a long while. ”I might ask why,” she finally said, slowly. Emath’s mind rippled through hers, telling her all that Koeneth had said, and asking for the reason why she was doing this. His rider reached out to him, catching hold of his consciousness as she turned back to the pinkrider with shadows in her eyes. ”I would tell ‘em it’s gonna be fine.” Her lips tightened and she looked away. ”An’ maybe that there’re no demons in this Weyr.”

At last she met the weyrlingmaster’s gaze again. ”I won’t let Emath go, Nia. I know ye fear for us,” she glanced away and back again, ”but he’s mine. I won’t let him drown in the things I feel.”


"Branches may stop the ordinary man, but B'tor "slapper of jungle cats" is no ordinary man."
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Catsitta
 Posted: Oct 7 2017, 02:13 PM
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And just like that, the frightened little girl peeked through the haughty mask. Nia could have wept at the sight. Instead she kept herself steady and held out a hand to the retreating weyrling. "Very well. I trust you," she murmured. "You will keep Emath safe. And now I need you to trust me, just a little, when I say that I won't let you be harmed." She took a step forward, "So tell me, please, why?" She left the intention of the question hanging open. Ruane could choose to confess why she strung up the boy or why she acted this way or anything at all. This was progress. Beautiful, precious progress, and Nia refused to lose it.

To lose her.

She would never be a mother of her own children, but she could protect and nurture these youth's as they transitioned through one of the hardest parts of their lives. A dragonrider's life was a strict one, full of harsh walls and boundaries, but in the same way, it was freeing. Many could never imagine a life otherwise. Nia couldn't. It was her dream since her youngest days when she hero worshipped her bluerider grandfather.

Outside, Koeneth provided the burgundy her calm presence, letting him touch their wings and press against her side as he fretted. It was a human comfort, touch, yet for some dragonets it worked the same. She was no longer the large, impressive figure that she was when they hatched, but she was a constant, never wavering in her aid. Emath could have been a full grown king and she would have done no different. Of course, his wing would have been able to shadow her entirely were that the case. The pink listened, her dainty paws folded before her.

Mine struggled with denial. she hummed low in her throat, considering the memory that wouldn't fade like most others. She Flew and Flew and Flew, but I knew the truth since I chose her as Mine. That we were empty. Her grief was an ache I couldn't understand. Seemed so pointless. Such as Yours' denial. I don't understand it. Why must they cause their own suffering?

Hers was a happy child and an optimistic young woman. Yet she could hurt and storm like any other human. She was simply rare to dwell in it.

.

@Sakoru (It's not the best. I am sorreh. ;_;)


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Sakoru
 Posted: Oct 10 2017, 03:00 PM
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Ruane couldn’t see the thoughts in Nia’s head, and perhaps that was just as well, for she did not know how to react to kindness, or to pity. The weyrlingmaster was always kind – perhaps too much so – but the burgundyweyrling always found it so easier to push back against her, to laugh in her face and dismiss all of her selfless efforts. Ruane was selfish; no one that knew her would deny it. But now she felt only lost, and uncertain, and it stung to let Nia see it, but it would have stung more, in the end, if she didn’t. Even she, the weyrling was realizing, had to crack sometime. Emotion, it seemed, could twist even her.

’I trust you,’ Nia said, and the younger woman paused. Uncertain eyes conveyed the truth that she had never heard those words before. When the pinkrider stepped toward her, extending her hand, Ruane tightened, but she did not move. Her eyes flickered to the proffered hand, but she didn’t take it. Vulnerable as she was, she couldn’t take that step. She could not cross that too-narrow gap between them and let Nia take her hand. But she didn’t move away either, though her face betrayed that she wanted to. ”I don’t trust anyone,” she said quietly, and this time it wasn’t defiance, but only the truth. The weyrlingmaster could have this moment, could hold onto the belief that Ruane could still be saved.

She might be right. She might be wrong. Even the weyrling didn’t know. Didn’t know if she could trust Nia, or even if she wanted to. But she didn’t leave, and she didn’t fight, and that was more than she had been willing to do before.

No matter that it had been her own words that drew the question, Ruane was silent when Nia asked her why. Far from stupid, the burgundyweyrling knew that she could say anything she wanted to. Possibly she could even lie, and the pinkrider wouldn’t question her, because this moment was the most hope Ruane had ever given her. But she didn’t lie; she was only quiet for a long moment, and then she finally spoke.

”’Cause I have nowhere ta go,” she said at last, and her gaze was serious. ”Don’t take it personal, Nia, but I’ve heard that sorta thing before.” A curious little smirk pulled up one corner of her mouth, and she seemed to relax just a little, shaking her long tangled hair back over her shoulder. ”I fight, Nia. S’what I do. Ya don’t need ta protect me, and I don’t know that ye can. But…” Ruane’s gaze slipped away from the weyrlingmaster, and then back again so that she could consider the woman’s soft face. ”I’m not gonna promise that I’ll stop fightin’ ya, Nia. I won’t. But I’m not gonna fall apart on ya, either.”

Now her gaze drifted to the door, and though she only moved an inch or two, the weyrling leaned toward it. Once again her face had settled into an indolent smirk, her eyes flickering back to life. ”So, then.” Ruane’s lips twitched. ”What’s the price fer stringin’ up mouthy cretins?”

Ruane’s storm was slowing, and so too was Emath’s; the less His raged, the less he reacted. Still he was fussing, fidgeting with wings and tail, but shades of blue and green were creeping back into his eyes, and after a while he flopped beside her. Pressed against the pink dragon’s side, he didn’t move again. I don’t know, the burgundy agreed, rumbling softly. Speculatively, he worked his claws against the ground, nosing the scratches he created. He did know, better than many dragons could, for Emath held onto regret just the same as His.

But for all that, he still remembered the moment when she had touched his egg, and they had become bonded to one another, even separated by the shell. Emath had known then what sort of strength she had, and what sort of weakness, and he had chosen her even then.

I love her best because she feels so much, he decided, and then looked up at Koeneth with a low croon. Isn’t that why we choose to be theirs? To help fix them? Emath rubbed his head delicately against one shrunken wing, scratching an itch on his headknob. Humans are silly, but I don’t think I’d like them any other way.

@Catsitta


"Branches may stop the ordinary man, but B'tor "slapper of jungle cats" is no ordinary man."
- Zane
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Catsitta
 Posted: Nov 22 2017, 05:25 PM
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She could have laughed at the absurdity of it all. One moment Ruane looked ready to crumble or lash out, and the next she was back to the defiant act, humor replacing pain. No. Masking pain. A shaky smile quirked on the werylingmaster's lips and she sighed, "I pity your future Wingleader." Nia propped both hands on her hips. Koeneth supplied her with the information she gleaned from Emath, which didn't make the situation better, but certainly no worse. "Well, you do have to be punished for this, Ruane. Your actions were inappropriate." She tilted her head and eyed the weyrling, "Since you struggle to mind your manners, your mouth or actions...Your punishment is, for the next month, to be nice."

She flashed a smile, masking her own unease, "Every day, you must perform a task from a list I will provide you each week, as well as keep a record of the times you misbehave. For every three slip ups, another day gets added to your punishment. Of course this is the honor system at work. I trust you will keep an honest record of your actions. All I ask for is proof of you completing the act of kindness I assign."

Nia plucked a hide from her desk, "Now, how about your work that charm of yours on the Archivist? Please deliver this to him and when you return, I will have your first week of tasks." She bit the inside of her mouth as she met Ruane's gaze. No amount of hard punishment would gain her ground with the girl. But maybe, just maybe, she could break through by guiding her away from destructive behaviors. Emphasis on self management, integrity and responsibility might be the key to the wild-hearted child that kept landing in her office. Who knew, maybe making dresses for dolls for the children in the creche or helping old ladies bake bubbly pies, would be a fate worse than mucking all the stalls to her? "Oh, in addition to your assigned tasks for the week, you get to write an apology to the boy. We will hand deliver the note together."

Because sometimes you had to apologize even if you felt you were in the right.

Yours will be out soon. Mine has decided her punishment.

.

@Sakoru


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