Frizzy blonde hair is woven into a braid-like crown atop her head, wispy bangs straggling free in feathered locks over her forehead. which slopes easily downwards into a long, thin nose and rosy cherubic cheeks. Her lips, rather thin, are nevertheless a contributing factor to her cheerful expression, generally quirked into an amusing smile. Hazel-green eyes are usually merry and bright, deep-set in her face. Pear-shaped in build, she's a small woman, of below average height although she's not tiny in the least. She carries herself easily, with some confidence, and poise although there's a definitive lack of grace and elegance to her bearing.

Loosely worn, baggy clothing is the woman's choice of garb lately. Her pants, rather full in cut so that they resemble something that looks more like a skirt are dyed a pale brown, tied at the waist by a drawstring cord. Her blouse, undyed linen, drapes across her upper body, leaving her shoulders exposed. A worn leather vest is worn over that, shod in equally worn leather boots, and a matching leather belt with various utensils hanging off it.


Born some 32 turns ago to a group of terribly insular and clannish cotholders, who lived somewhere in the back of beyond in the Telgar highlands, Kasira was from the start a wayward child. Too poor to afford the posting of a permanent Harper, and too far off the beaten path for a Journeyman to make regular visits more than once or twice a Turn, it could be no wonder that the girl grew up somewhat unlearned, uncultured and wild. That's not to say that the youngster was a simpleton, indeed, she showed quick wit, a deft hand at tending to animals and a generally sunny disposition that helped her cope with the chaos that often ran rampant through her extended family. She had what one might well term a horde of siblings — both half and full (her father having married several times) and her aunts and uncles and grandparents and cousins were all in the cothold too. So, Kasira grew up, at least cradled in the comfort of a family, even if there was very little privacy to be had, and so many mouths to feed meant everyone had to work a little harder to make sure everyone got enough.

She knew very little of the outside world, and so, the outside world became a shock to her when suddenly confronted with it. At the age of 14, while out in the fields, by pure chance, a rider from Igen Weyr, arrived. They'd intended to go elsewhere, but there the dragon and rider were. And lo and behold, Kasira was Searched right there. Poor girl, she hardly knew what to expect, and it hadn't helped that her cotholder family was a suspicious lot with nothing but rumor and hearsay about life in the Weyr. Still, even a life of chores and drudgery might have been better than staying with her family, so off she went, marked from the first in Candidacy as someone who was a little "behind the times." Luckily, there were people at the Weyr who helped her understand what modern Pern was like, and she soon settled in, although her accent still made her an awkward stranger.

Impressing Brionnith was the start of a new life for her — that suave dapper blue having plucked her from the crowd of girls, and cozying his way into her heart with his smooth cultured ways. As weyrlinghood passed, and Kasira graduated, she soon found that Brionnith was a sleek, irrepressible creature who liked nothing better than to woo some green or another into his talons. That was an adjustment to Weyrlife that Kasira had never really expected, but nonetheless, she learned to adapt and endure. And as time passed, enjoy what life could bring her, especially the freedom of finding love. Kasira became a mother twice over, cosseting her babies while young and passing them off to be fostered, although she kept well in contact with them.

Of late, however, the bluerider has not been doing well. Wagging tongues point to a time several months ago when Brionnith chased, but lost, and something happened, the results of which have strained the woman to her breaking point. Desiring a change, and a chance to recuperate, she's left the Weyrs entirely, preferring to settle in relative anonymity at Ierne WeyrHold.


Name Relation Location Position
Kashie (A'she) Daughter Western Weyr Weyrling
Jasirdan (Igen rider) Son Western Weyr Weyrbrat



The World is Not Enough Blue Brionnith
Measured arrogance lies writ in the angled tilt of proudly arched neck, the rich, dazzling hue of cobalt staining the expanse of dragonhide — velvety-rich and silken soft to the touch. Arrayed in naught but nature's finest, that same shimmered hue cloaks the rest of him, beginning at the tip of his blunted muzzle, upon which a faintly sardonic sneer oft curves the maw. His neck, not as long and lean as some of his counterparts still carries a sense of poise, flowing down to muscled shoulders. In contrast to his brilliant sheen above, dark ultramarine-blue follows the trace of his lean underbelly, and down the underside of a short and muscular tail, a scintillating contrast of light and dark — for is he emerging from shadows, or is he consumed by them? His wings are immense, great broad pinions that gleam a semi-translucent blue along the leading edges, gradually darkening in gradient — sinking into endless depths and a blue so dark it's nearly black along the trailing edge. Confidence and charisma coat his very being, wings oft held at rakish tilt, and a proud swagger in his gait.

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