The heavy wooden doors, made even heavier by the metal plating that protected them from Thread, was gratefully left open to welcome the new weyrlings inside. The glows were warm but kept low, no doubt to be easy on tired eyes, and one of the Weyrlingmaster's assistants was present, waiting to show the new pairs to their rooms. The relative quiet of the barracks was a welcome relief for S'gal, who thought to himself he'd never quite get that cavernous din of the hatching sands out of his mind.

I know what you mean. Came the voice in his head that gave the young man a bit of a start, who recalled for the sixth time in the past short while the pale brown dragonet lumbering at his side, his distended meat-full stomach making him slow and ponderous, voice heavy with weariness. I will be glad for some rest, it has been a very long first day.

"I hear you there, Germanyth." Said the newly christened brownrider as he pulled aside the curtain and stepped into his appointed room. A cot was there, covers already pulled down, and there was a piece of hide on the clothes press next to a plain brown jumper, a congradulatory note from the Weyr's resident tanner encouraging him to stop by as soon as he could to get fitted for leathers. Underneath, a shoulder knot, simple and plain with the Weyr's colorations, save for the shining brown strand woven through. When S'gal turned to show Germanyth, the brown was too occupied pacing around his own couch, trying to find just the right spot before he settled down with a grateful huff.