Zenula

Name: Zenula
Age: 34
Birth Turn: 1482
Gender: Female

Wing/Shift: n/a - Grounded
Weyr Rank: Greenrider
Crafter Rank: Creche Worker

Bonded To: Feyth

Appearance:
Zee isn't exactly a traditional beauty, though she came pretty close in her younger years. Her hair is a flouncy, bouncy, golden crown, only slightly darker than her sun-kissed skin. Warm flaxen hues to the first, with soft pink undertones to the later, though each have their own variations to further texture her appearance. Sunny locks streaked lighter and darker from her time under Rukbat's rays, while her skin is generously covered in freckles pretty much everywhere. Some darker, some lighter, some smaller, some larger... Like someone took a paint loaded brush, and repeatedly swung it her way with great gusto, until at last she was sufficiently colored. Heaviest on her cheeks, over her nose, on her shoulders, down her back, arms and legs. Which, amusingly enough, only serves to highlight the rising heat to her face, whenever someone does manage to make her blush- spots all but vanishing as their color distorts far less than that of the paler surrounding skin. While her eyes are a shade of blue she personally rather likes. A pastel hue ringed on the far edges by a darker tone, reminiscent of certain flowers, or the peepers of many newborns she's seen.

Standing a humble 5'6", the blonde doesn't tower over many of her peers. Though she's no willowy flower prone to blowing away in a stiff wind. No, despite being well exercised between her young wards and energetic bondmate, Zee never quite managed to return to the svelte frame she possessed before giving birth. Weight settles upon her now like a hug from an old friend, softening her features and concealing what muscle she does posse. It can be a point of some insecurity when she's feeling particularly low. Otherwise, Zee shall cheerfully claim it just gives an added bit of plush cuddliness to her vaguely apple-shaped form.

In attire, she favors more flowing blouses with low necklines to both complimenting her figure, as well as to better conceal her belly pudge. That, after all, is not very attractive - not on her, at least, not to her eyes - and thus warrants as little emphasis as she can grant it. For similar reasons, she tends to go for higher waisted bottoms which are neither overly snug nor unflatteringly loose. Pants or skirts, it's not uncommon to see her in either, though the former is admittedly a touch more so than the latter. It's not so much vanity that spurs these decisions, as it is a desire not to look poorly or otherwise frumpy in front of impressionable young children. After all, if she looks like a hot mess, what grounds does she have to get after them for any slovenly habits they might pick up? No, no- she takes care of herself and her appearance, trying to hold fast to the idea of leading by example.

Personality:
A warm, maternal sort, Zee is the type of woman who believes the world needs many more hugs, and every dollop of kindness it can get. She knows how far she can bend before she breaks, how bad her day may have been, but she can't really say the same for others. How is she to know what they're going through, what they might of had to deal with that day? She doesn't know where they stand, how much they might be hurting, and as a result Zee tends to be very generous to those around her. Working under the assumption that they've had a worse day than her, and they need a pick-me-up far more than she needs a break or a treat herself. Which can and will lead to her feeling quite burnt out at times, though she'll try her best to hide it- particularly from the kids she works with.

Patience is a trait she's come to have in spades, but in such a way that doesn't really lend itself to any ambition. She's quite content with her lot in life, after all, and it's no great hardship for her to weather most storms. Not to the point where she feels the need to step up, at least not when it's her own health or happiness on the line. Toss a child into the mix, however, and one might find themselves seeing more steel to her gaze than initially presumed. Protective of her wards and charges, and those otherwise incapable of defending themselves, there is a touch of fire to her. Not so much the heated inferno some souls may sport, but rather something akin to the tempered steel her father used to, and her son currently does, work. Which admittedly wasn't always the case, but time and experience have taught and exacted their toll on her, until she reached the point whereupon she now stands.

Given this, some might expect her to be rather mellow, perhaps even tired. Especially given the energetic brats which fill most of her day, every day. Not so, particularly around said children. Zee practically feeds off that energy, getting more hyped and impish the wilder her charges are feeling that day. A whimsical wildflower at heart, she's no qualms playing with the kids for several hours, keeping them entertained and out of trouble as best she can. Even around other adults, it's not entirely unheard of her to take to some flight of fancy or another. Laughingly twirling away, teasingly trying to entice a game of tag, or coax a race out of her companions.

Though for the most part though, adults will find her personality milder than displayed around the kids. Certain aspects of herself are exaggerated around children; either naturally invoked such as her need to mother hen those around her, or deliberately made a caricature of in a bid to delight the youths. Kids will often find her playfully energetic, soothingly calm, optimistic, and a protective mother hen. Adults may regard her as whimsical, relaxed, generally cheerful and hardworking. Either way Zee wears her heart on her sleeve more often than not, and for those who know how to look, she's typically an open book.

Zee also has a soft spot for shiny things, always has, and likely always will. From the blades her father worked on growing up, to the bronze who ignited in her a love of dragons, to the sparkly rocks the children will bring her... If it can catch the light, it can catch an admiring glance from her too. Nowhere is this more apparent than in her quarters, with odds and ends of assorted degrees of shine to them. Broken buckles, worn out D-rings, metal buttons, glossy rocks, jars of broken glass- it's a bit of a mess, but it's her little treasure trove. Tucked away as a guilty pleasure, with one shiny always in her pocket as she goes about her day. Something to twiddle about with when she's trying to relax, rolling between her fingers, toying with it, catching with the gleam of many fond childhood memories.

Her most notable dislike, however, is thunderstorms. While she quite enjoys a regular rain, the fiercer weather tends to wear on her. Having been caught out in one as a child one turn left her with a fear of them lasting many turns, only more recently overcome. Nevertheless, they're far from her favorite thing in the world. Thunder that's loud enough, close enough, will still make her jump, flinch, and cringe even if she knows it's coming, and it's hard for her to feign a chipper mood. No, when lightning fills the sky, her anxious gaze will turn towards it, made wary and uneasy with its presence. Someone trying to step out into such weather, no matter the reason, will quickly find her grabbing them and tugging them back- or at least attempting to. The weather is far from safe, and knowing that, with the remnants of fear mixing with a protective worrywart's nature... It isn't easy for her to just watch someone head out into such a storm, and she's not likely to settle fully until she sees them again, and can cluck over their health and harebrained ideas.

History:

Ulanna - Mother (+23)
Zeneret - Father (+26) [i]deceased[/i]
Older Brother (+2)
Younger Brother (-3)
Son (-20)

 Many, many years ago, there was a little girl. She had a wonderful family, with a mother, a father, an older brother, and a younger brother, all of whom loved her very much. A sweet little thing, she would run around gathering shiny metal shavings from her father's work floor to later toss in the air as glittery confetti whenever Rukbat shone bright. Perhaps not the most thought out plan, but she was young, and liked the way the scraps would sparkle in the sunshine. It made her happy, made her laugh, and those bits of metal were so fine they'd quickly burn up in the fire. Evaporate into nothingness, useless... so her father didn't notice them going missing, just thought the eldest of his children was actually doing some of the chores assigned to him. Not so, but that's not very important to this story, so shh... no telling, hm?

I digress though, so let's keep on with the actual tale. Now this little girl eventually experienced her first gather, and what an experience it was! Everyone was so happy and bright, there was noise and color, and so much excitement! Oh, it was wonderful! Amazing! She loved it! Which, of course meant that when the next one came around, and she knew better what to expect, she simply had to save up as much sparkly metal glitter confetti as she possibly could. So that's what she did, but when the day came... Oh no! A gust of wind came at just the worst time, and oh, it hurt! The poor little girl cried, and cried, bawling her eyes out, practically in front of everybody! Well, not really, but it certainly felt that way at the time, you see? Her eyes and throat and chest hurt, and her happy day was ruined!

But oh, what is this..? Amongst the crowd there was a man, but not just any man, he was a dragonrider! Ooooh, I know. He was young for a rider, but ancient to the little girl at the time, as all grown ups are- don't you know we're all dinosaurs? No? Hm- I'm too nice to be a dinosaur? Aww, why thank you sweetheart. Oh! Yes, yes, back to the story, of course. Thank you for reminding me. Dragonrider, right? Of course. Yes, well this valiant rider couldn't just turn a blind eye to the poor little girl's suffering, now could he? No, that's right- dragonmen are, of course, better than that. At least any rider worth the title. They're our protectors, our champions, when awful Thread clouds the sky.

On that day, however, there was no Thread for this rider to face, but rather, a sad, hurting little girl. He'd never once met her before, but he strode towards her- a man on a mission. He was no dummy, he could see the sparkly filings scattered across the ground, and with the girl's bawling, he could put two and two together. Kneeling down before her, the rider tried to soothe the child, gently taking her hands in his to prevent her from rubbing at her eyes. No, no- while it certainly hurt, he wasn't doing it to be mean. The little girl was making it hurt worse by doing that, but she didn't realize it then. He was trying to protect her, to help her.

"Hey there, little lady." He began, and the child blushed a bright, bright red. No one had ever called her a lady before, after all. Ladies were special, and got to wear all the pretty, shiny things. They were like, like, oh! They were like golden dragons, all beautiful and regal. So this amazing, handsome bronzerider, just complimented her! Her of all people, when her face was all ugly from crying, when she was sure not but a heartbeat before that her day was ruined!

"That must really hurt, huh? I know when I'm injur- when I have an owwie, the nice healers make me feel better. How about we go see them?" Now, this silly little girl was very lucky this was a rider, that he was a good man, because she didn't hesitate to agree. A bad man could of brought her very far from her mommy and daddy, with no healers in sight, either! But her savior that day was a rider, and he was a man of his word. He brought her to the healers, and while they gave her icky medicine, and did some strange, scary things, they were nice. They helped make the pain go away, and told her what to do to make sure it went bye-bye forever! And through it all, the bronzerider remained right there by her side, making sure she was going to be okay.

That's not all though, see, as kind as the rider was... His dragon was just as amazing, and wished to meet her while the humans both waited for the little girl's mother to come. He was huuuuuuuuuge! Like nothing the child had ever seen before, there seemed to be no end to him! And- and, and, and... He was shiny. Like... super, duper, shiny. A very bronze sort of bronze, with that greenish kind of tint? But there were also a few almost golden patches, splashed all over his legs and tummy- just like he'd been naughty, playing in the paint!

More than that though, he was really, really sweet. While the little girl should of still been feeling bad, and would feel really blerg later... His very presence made her feel amazing again! He held her attention so well, telling her stories about his wingmates and life in the Weyr, there was simply no room for her to think about any owwies. It could have been forever that she sat there, listening to him, and yet it still wasn't enough when her momma did arrive to take her home. That little girl was in love, after all. Not with the rider, no... but rather, she was in love with dragons. A rumbly, draconic chuckle sounded in her head, at the same time the bronzerider laughed. A hand reached out to ruffle her hair, and with a grin, two voices told her they hoped to see her join them in the skies one day.

The little girl swore it would be so, for her heart already flew on dragon's wings at so small a taste. One day... One day, she'd meet them again, only this time... He wouldn't be the only one with a dragon. She promised herself.

The rest of the story though, well, that's not one Zenula cares to share with the children. A trusted adult may coax it out of her in bits and pieces, tone more serious than the yarn she'd weave for her young charges. She grew up learning to be a housewife, learning to tend to a home and children, and it was something she honestly enjoyed. There were a few moments, of course, of childish discontent over the more unpleasant work, longing for her bronzerider to come whisk her away for a life of adventure on dragonback. But those moments were relatively uncommon in the grand scheme of things, wisps of whimsy that faded in and out like morning dew. Yet when the day came, the blonde finally old enough for the Searchdragons to whisk her away... Oh, honestly, who in their right mind could refuse a chance like that?

It was more than a bit of a heartache for the young dreamer when turn after turn, metallics and chromatics alike refused her. Five turns spent, from 14 to 19, being the best and most well behaved candidate she could possibly be. Standing, being rejected, and standing again, amassing a collection of scattered scars where she wasn’t quite quicker than the hatchlings. It was disheartening, no matter how much the young woman struggled to cling to her previous optimism. Letters from home didn’t help, filled with protests from her family, grumbles of the time she’d wasted, the scars she amassed, and gripes about them not doing things quite proper at the Weyr. Dragonmen being no good for young women who ought to be settling down, looking for husbands at her age. It was a low point in her life, and one that saw her tempted into a bluerider’s arms one flight. It was her own morals and upbringing however, which had her firmly refusing the ‘quick trip between’ which was offered the morning after. It was a decision which would cost the blonde her candidacy.

Heavy with child, she’d watch eggs break on Benden sands from the safety of the stands. No plucky young creature would brave them that day to find her, and as time ticked on… It became apparent that no dragon would have her. No matter what the Searchdragons claimed, how a few draconic friends tried to cheer her, there appeared to be something she was lacking. And that was… not fine, but it would be. Perhaps someone else would have left, disenchanted and embittered by the countless rejections. But... the Weyr remained charming, enchanting with all its colorful dragons, and Zenula looked towards it all with a degree of fondness largely untainted by her failed Impression attempts. The sands would stay a bittersweet memory, and were it not for her charges, she likely would have avoided them when she could.

In her time as a candidate, and as an expectant mother, she'd found herself quite at home helping wrangle children in the creche, and... For the rest of her days, Zee shall remain grateful for the fact that such was where she found her niche. Because if she hadn’t braved those stands… been there to watch those sands… there for the Weyrbrats in a show of support… Zenula wouldn’t have been there for Feyth to choose.

It was to be a small hatching, two greens having had their maiden flights just a day apart. One of whom largely lost interest in tending to her eggs after the first couple sevendays, lingering mostly to enjoy the pleasant heat of the hatching sands. A fact which eventually irked the second into claiming the smaller green’s eggs as her own, taking over their care and tending. Two eggs, neither very large, but one particularly tiny, and never seeming to grow. It concerned the Weyr, murmurs of a likely dud, though none of the dragons seemed inclined to dispose of it. Time slipped by, as fine and hard to hold as the grains which incubated the five eggs. Zenula didn't think too much on it, beyond a hope that the eggs were all healthy, and faith in the dragons to know best. If the telepathic and empathetic creatures didn't think there was any cause for alarm, the blonde was inclined to believe them.

Twenty-nine with a child upon her lap, the crechemother watched three chromatic hatchlings greet the world and their new bondmates. Two eggs remaining, those which had suffered a spell of neglect. The crowd shifted, murmurs rising at the long pause. Then, the tiniest of eggs rocked, rolled over, and… hatched into a green firelizard..? No, of course not, though the egg wet chromatic could certainly pass for one. A blue brother not far behind her, the verdant terror was off, zipping around the remaining candidates with quick, derisive huffs aimed at each and every one of them. Not a moment’s hesitation, before the green turned her attention towards the stands instead. Up, up, over, around, and even under people, sewing chaos wherever she went. Until at last, the chromatic came to a stop, a tiny head peering up at the crechemother and her son.

Everyone else could use a little more faith, but you… You believed in me, didn’t you? Yes, of course you did. You are mine, after all, and I am your Feyth. Too old..? Nonsense! You are mine, and anyone who thinks any different can go suck a- “Feyth!” That’s my name, don’t wear it out!

It was the start of a beautiful relationship.

History at a Glance:

•  1482 - o0 - Born in Benden Hold
•  1488 - o6 - Accidently injured herself at a Gather, met a bronzerider and his dragon there who looked after her until her mother was found.
•  1496 - 14 - Is Searched for Benden Weyr
•  1501 - 19 - A bluerider tempts her into his bed one flight, Zee refuses the offer of a trip between the morning after. The blonde is suspended from candidacy for a turn.
•  1502 - 20 - Zee gives birth to a healthy baby boy. Takes time to recover and nurse the child, doesn't immediately return to candidacy.
•  1503 - 21 - With mixed feelings, the blonde returns to the hatching sands.
•  1508 - 26 - Zee stands for the last time before aging out, doesn't Impress. Someone gifts her a large firelizard egg later that turn, hoping to cheer her up with a miniature dragon of her own.
•  1509 - 27 - An oversized garnet* flit hatches and bonds to Zee.
•  1511 - 29 - On Benden sands, a tiny green hatches from an egg believed to be a dud, and barrels through the stands until she reaches Zee. Rainbows swirl in faceted eyes, as Feyth claimed the crechemother for her own.
•  1512 - 30 - As other weyrlings take flight with their bondmates, practice formations and between, the greenpair remain ground bound. Feyth more than capable of flight... but not of carrying her rider. The dragon refusing to leave her human alone on the ground while their peers left them both behind. They were in this together.
•  1513 - 31 - Fey elects to chew firestone, and barely a sevenday later, the green has her maiden flight. Late in the turn, Zee would have a hatching firelizard egg hurriedly shoved into in her hands- the previous holder oddly relieved when the little gold bonded to her instead.
•  1514 - 32 - Meraki puts out the call for transfers. Feyth is eager for a taste of something new, though Zee decides to speak with her son and friends before making such a large decision.
•  1515 - 33 - The greenpair and the blonde's 13 turn old son all transfer to Meraki.
•  1516 - 34 - Zee bonds to two more firelizards: bronze Valor and grey Lacy.