P’list was sitting almost on top of the glows in the common area, frowning down at the stitches he was placing in the strap. This lesson was proving to be the hardest for him. It had taken several days of classes before he had become good at spotting the flaws in leather, and even longer before he had become able to sew a straight stitch. Even now, he was horribly slow at it. But he understood why riders needed to be able to do this themselves. How could you ever trust someone else to take better care of your and your dragon’s safety than you would yourself? It was better to be slow than to do a bad job.
The political lessons hadn’t been going all that well either. He really didn’t understand enough about the situation with Walled Hold to feel anything but uneasy about their relationship with their ‘neighbor,’ but those were probably worries to be left to the bronze and gold riders.
While he was thinking about that, he had sewn a few stitches that were too loose. He focused again, pulling them tighter as he glared down at the leather strap. This shouldn’t be so hard to get right. He was trying his best, but it seemed like everyone else was able to do their mending much quicker. Still, this was the last one he needed to work on today, and as he finished with it, confident that it would pass inspection by the weyrlingmaster, he looked up to see if any other weyrlings were done with their tasks for the day.
Maybe someone could explain why he couldn’t sew both quickly and correctly, or needed help with something he actually WAS good with. While he was still missing a few growth spurts, he was decent at the self-defense classes, mostly because he didn’t care about winning fights, so much as avoiding them. It was probably an important skill to have, given the things he had heard about Pheonith’s death.