BRUNO
"Did something die in here?" You ask, while poking your head with some trepidation into the weyr.
"Only this feline," answers a young man's voice. Though he is supposed to only be about 15 turns old, this Bruno is certainly a hulking shape! He's huge!
"Well, how did it die?" You ask, almost afraid of the answer.
"I think I sat on it," he says, and then when your guts are about to climb out of your throat, he starts bellowing a laugh! "It's an old feline! It was limping around outside, and I brought him in. He was okay yesterday but this morning he was stiff as a board." He puts the dead cat into a nearby bin. "The drudges will have to take it away soon, huh?"
"If I were you I'd do it myself..."
"Ah, but you aren't me, and I don't do that kind of stuff..." He smiled. His face was as long as his shoulders were wide, he was to say the least a ... bear of a boy!
"If you see one of them around, when you go, could you send them up? I'd like to clear the air out before the hatching at least."
"Yes, that would be a good idea. Unless you Impress a dragon who likes carrion."
He gets this look on his face like he's almost thinking about it seriously.
"So!" You interrupt, "what about you? What do you want the records to say?"
"That I'm brilliant, talented and handsome." He pauses, and then sneers a bit, but in a happy way. "Well, I supose two out of three isn't bad. I'm too ugly for most of the girls to like, but... I can watch what happens when I Impress a bronze and --"
"If you have to, you could be a good Weyrleader, is that what you're saying?" You hint at his transgressive behavior.
"I'd be ... well, I don't want that. I want to ride and fight Thread! Or just fight!" He punches the air, and even from a few feet away you can feel the wind! "But I can still dream can't I?"
"That's a good thing," you mutter.
He grows a few inches bigger and broader, inflating at the insult.
You back off quick!
Just over 15 turns old
Stands over 6'4" tall, and is about that broad in his chest! He is a huge, but well-proportioned young man, with big hands and short legs
He has very pale skin, looking like he'd burn quite easily but he doesn't; his hair is extremely short, cut almost close to his skin, and is probably light brown in color; his eyes are dark brown
He wears cotton shirts which stretch when he breathes, and loose leggings
He was born in a Weyr, and his children if he has any will certainly also remain in weyr life
'Could have gone into Dragon healing,' he thought to himself. 'But no, weyrling brat like me has to stick around and shovel firestone and build new weyrs.'
He moped for a while longer, and then there was a clap by his weyr's leather flap door.
"Whadda want?" He bellowed, keeping to his reputation.
"I... It's a message, came from Talor Cliff. Would you like me to read it?" The harper's apprentice said.
It was a mistake. He wasn't going to make it again.
Bruno growled at the young teen until he paled and probably peed his leggings. The message scroll tumbled to the floor and Bruno grabbed it.
He muttered to himself, "yadda yadda... flight successful... gold Soranth... 19 eggs!" he whistled to himself. His eyes grew wide.
"I've been ... they want... YYYYEEEEEE--HOOOOOOOOOO!" His bellow could be heard for leagues!
