Ph'dan
Jemth yawned as he lifted his head from his stone couch. He looked around with satisfation at his new weyr. He, Ph'dan, and the rest of Yukith's latest clutch had chosen weyrs the previous day. In Jemth's opinion, they'd gotten the best one.
Ph'dan was still asleep and there was a Fall scheduled to be over the Weyr late this morning, so all weyrlings and weyrfolk who were not in a ground crew were confined to their weyrs or quarters. Jemth walked to the doorway which led to his legde and sat down there, watching the Weyr prepare for the oncoming Threads.
The wings of Dark Moon Weyr were slowly assembling in the weyrbowl. Jemth watched them jealously, wishing he were old enough, as he soon would be, to join them. He would be learning how to chew firestone soon, but that wasn't the same as actually fighting Thread.
Jemth watched both horrified and excited as the leading edge of Fall appeared on the horizon, being followed by the dragonriders of the weyr who defended the lands next to Dark Moon Weyr. Suddenly the Thread was almost at the edge of Dark Moon Weyr's bowl, and the dragons sprang up into the sky, some already flaming.
The watching brown's entire body quivered with excitement. Every thread of his being wished he were up there, fighting along with the dragons he had come to know.
Ph'dan had woken and now Jemth noticed that he was standing beside him. We'll be up there soon enough, Jemth.
It can't be soon enough for me.