Dark brown hair falls to the middle of this young woman's back in a rich chocolate wave, long layers falling into her almost black eyes when her hair is left loose. Her lips are full and almost pouty, though usually graced with a small smile, her nose thin and straight with a slightly upturned tip. She is lightly tanned, though not dark by any means, with a faint dusting of freckles from a childhood spent in the sun. She is about 5'6" and looks like she weighs around 132lbs.

She's dressed in a long cream colored tunic that covers her rump, though just barely, a pair of snug fitting brown leather pants that hug her curves, and a pair of black wherhide boots shined to perfection on her feet. A belt that matches her boots is cinched around her slender waist, lending her some shape with her shirt bloused slightly over the top. A braided length of black cord rests close to her throat, a single carved wooden bead strung on the necklace resting at the hollow of her throat.

She's wearing the simple knot of a journeyman baker at Ierne Weyrhold, a thread of forest green woven through for her lifemate, and appears to be late in her second decade.


Born at Island River Hold, Brighid is the third of six children born to a family with a long tradition of SeaCrafters. Her elder two siblings are both journeymen seacrafters well on their way to being promoted to master. For her part, Brighid was always more interested in the inside workings of a kitchen than being confined on the rolling deck of a ship. She spent most of her formative years underfoot in the kitchen of the hold, watching her great-aunt and learning as much as she could about how to combine different raw ingredients to make magic and produce something edible that's so much more as a whole than any one item is on its own.

When she was old enough, instead of becoming an apprentice seacrafter like her older brother and sister, she started spending even more time with the aunties in the kitchen, absorbing as much about cooking, and baking in particular, as she could. When she was sixteen, she traveled to Landing to learn as much as she could from a close friend of one of the women in the kitchen of Island River Hold and officially became an apprentice baker.

The turns passed quickly and she was perhaps six months from earning the rank of journeyman when she was Searched for a clutch at Eastern Weyr. She was found on the sands by a beautiful green that stole her heart away and became everything to her. This did mean that she was delayed a few more turns before reaching the rank of journeyman, but she did finally manage it three turns later when she was twenty-two. She's recently transferred to Ierne Weyrhold and hopes to open a bakery selling breads and cakes to people around Pern.


Name Relation Location Position Dragon
Alessia Mother Island River Hold Weaver journeyman
Gamiade Father Island River Hold SeaCraft master


Bronze Mal

Broad. Strong. Noble. All these words seem appropriate in description of this firelizard. Coppery shades mix with brass and brown starting deep, almost brown at the headknobs and sliding down his neck and across his stomach like mixed ales down a throat. Glitters of pyrite spray across his wingsails, often hidden, but glinting under the right light like a hidden treasure in the smooth facade of this exterior of creamy browns and bronzes. Each claw and backridge glitter not with bronze or copper, but deep, glazed hematite. Each wrist and ankle is ringed in the subtle tones of tigers eye. Copper, brass, bronze, brown, brass, copper, bronze ring his lower limbs like socks. The colors along his back and sides are dull and muted, making him almost more brown than bronze.


Ancient Forest Green Kiasyth


Deep within an forest ancient trees twist into memorable shapes, each one a silent, ageless guardian to the tranquility that spring sunlight brings to meandering pastures, the calm verdancy captured within this green dragon's hide. Senescent oak dapples her vernal flanks, ethereal leaves delicately entwining her shoulders to create patterns within the shadowy depths of her neckridges, each one tipped with the shimmering iridescence of morning dew. Sylvan grove caresses belly's curve, pale muted light filtering through the dense underbrush to where dark moss thrives around the beech hues of her legs, each firmly rooted to earth-coloured talons. Lustrous, evergreen holly decorates her pinions, the spiked blades yielding only to the feathering ferns that caress her wings, the wingbones festooned with a sprinkling of lavender, tiny bell shapes evocative of vernal equinox's first flowers.
Kiasyth is 22.94 meters long with a wingspan of 38.23 meters.

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