"Dosuku!" Boetius shoved the sunset-colored fire lizard off of the table, forcing the flit to take flight to avoid crashing to the ground. He creeled, screeching at his owner angrily. "Well that's what you get for stealing!" The boy said.
Dosuku flew back up to the table, and curled himself around Boetius's shoulder. The boy ignored him as he finished eating.
As soon as he finished eating, Boetius ran off to find his father. He rushed through the stone halls, barely avoiding the people walking the other way. He muttered a quick apology to a woman as he all but knocked her down, then set off again, anxious to talk to his father.
He found him in the records room, poring over some of the records. He ran over to the tall man excitedly, opened his mouth to say something, and-
"No."
Boetius blinked. "But you don't even know what I was going to say!"
His father looked up at him. "Of course I do. The same thing you've been asking your mother and I about for sevendays now. You are not going to stand for the clutch unless you are officially searched."
Boetius sighed, exasperated. "But there's only one searchrider right now! And Rigelth hates me!"
His father hid a grin as he answered. "Well that's what you get for calling him a 'lowly sharding blue'. Insulting the searchdragon is not a very good way to get searched."
Boetius ignored the last part. "Well, what else can I do? If you're not going to let me stand for Eoth's clutch, I'll probably never Impress!"
His father stared at him. "We let you try going to another Weyr. You didn't want to go."
"Well yeah, but that was only a green's clutch. There are never bronzes in a green's clutch!"
His father glared at Boetius. "Boetius, not everyone can Impress a bronze." Boetius remained silent." If you want, we can take you to Blue Sky Weyr. I believe there's a dragon that will be clutching there soon."
Boetius looked up hopefully. "Is it a gold?"
His father frowned at him. "I don't know. The senior queen's clutch hatched a couple sevendays ago. There's been no clutch on the sands for a while now. All I've heard is that a dragon is due to rise soon, I didn't hear what color it was."
Boetius sighed in frustration. His father glancd up at him again. "That's the best I can do. Take it or leave it."
Boetius paused, considering the choices. Go to Blue Sky Weyr, and stand for the clutch? If it did turn out to be a green's clutch, then he'd be stuck there with no way to get home until he Impressed. And he'd probably be stuck with a blue or brown dragon then. Or, he could stay here, at Darkling Dawn Weyr, and wait until the Searchriders actually searched him for a gold's clutch. And if so, he'd better stand for Eoth's, since that would likely be the last gold to clutch for a while.
He mulled over the choices in his head, then sighed and made his decision. "Alright then, I'll go."
Boetius swore under his breath in frustration when he saw the mother of the just-laid clutch. A green, just as he'd feared. And the father was a blue.
"Well, this is just great." He muttered as he stepped closer to the eggs. "Now I probably won't even be able to get a brown dragon, much less a bronze." The mother glared at him, eyes glowing red. He stepped away nervously.
Dosuku met him outside the sands, screeching as he landed on the boy's outstretched arm. The boy's eyes narrowed as he glanced back at the clutch. His father had probably known all along. Probably trying to make him realize that blues and browns were just as good. Bah! Blue and brown riders didn't get half the respect bronzeriders did. Of course, the riders of rare-colored dragons also got respect, but Boetius didn't care about that. There had been no rare-riders in his family, and he'd actually never even seen one. To tell the truth, he was kind of suspicious of them. Who cares if the weyrbrats called him hidebound? He didn't want a freak for a dragon, anyway.
He show them. He'd show his parents, his friends, the entire Weyr, that he was bronze-rider material. He just knew it. Even if he had to wait until the next dragon had flown and clutched.
He wouldn't be stuck with just any old blue. Not him, he'd see to that.
He sat, stroking Dosuku, content to wait, no matter how long it took.