F’nor sat on a rocky outcrop overlooking the Weyr, the cool breeze carrying the scent of the sea as the sun dipped below the horizon. His brown dragon, Canth, was resting nearby, his golden eyes half-closed in contentment. F’nor’s thoughts were elsewhere, focused on the day’s drills and the growing threat of Threadfall. He barely noticed the light footsteps approaching until a familiar voice broke his reverie.
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