Ibbie had decided to call in her 'my dragon's calling' card by the time that the boy had reached his second refrain... and had somehow managed to avoid drawing candidate-training duty since.

When she caught up to the white-haired girl, Mondriel was in the great washing room, gossiping with a couple of other candidate girls over a great cauldron of soaking clothing. Ibbie took the opportunity to pounce. "Mondriel," she called, rather looming in the doorway, her spray of dreadlocks framing a dark-skinned, hard-set face. "Mind if I have a word with you for a moment?"

The girl, along with the others, looked over at Ibbie, the picture of perfect innocence. Her hands were plunged elbow deep into the water, suds having found their way to her half-damp clothes from the washboard. "Certainly, dragonrider," she said, and set the half-washed linens over the side of the basin. "Is anything wrong?"

Ibbie smiled just as politely, while the watching girls remained deathly silent. They knew that the brown-rider was sibling to Mondriel's fling-thing... They knew what would probably be coming. Ibbie knew from the glint in their eyes that they'd be gossiping as soon as the two of them were out the door... not that she could stop them. Fortunately, she wasn't well known around the dragonstead, so the fast-spreading word would probably fall short.

Mondriel approached Ibbie with a zen-like grace that was rather worrisome. Just as the other girls knew, so must this villager... but she didn't seem particularly worried. When she was close enough, Ibbie backed out of the door, and down the great multi-purpose hallway. Mondriel followed a few steps behind, silent until they were out of earshot of the gossipers. Then she spoke, before Ibbie had a chance to. "I don't suppose you're going to ream me out what happened with P'ax, are you?" Her voice held a hint of a smirk, but when Ibbie turned, Mondriel's face was carefully neutral.

She already didn't like this girl. Attitude and impertinence didn't sit lightly with her... especially not from some fifteen-year-old twerp like this. She probably had ambition out the ears, too. "Actually," Ibbie finally replied, her black eyes narrow with her annoyance, "I was wondering how you managed to sign up for candidacy. You haven't been Searched, have you?"

Mondriel tucked her hair behind her ear, and looked from Ibbie to a passerby, and back again. "Well..."

"You realize that your chances of Impressing are greatly reduced, just waltzing in and signing up, hmm?" Ibbie was already imagining the day that Mondriel finally stood on the hot sands, waiting for her bond. Waiting and waiting, but no dragonet would come. The little twerp would then go on to humiliate herself by standing at the next bonding, and the next, and still no dragonet would sink to the level of Impressing her, all because she hadn't taken the time to be Searched... or rather, discover that she wasn't even worth Searching. It all panned out, in the end...

Mondriel burst her devious thought-bubble. "I would have taken the time, but your brother had already run off on me, and besides, I doubt that Nydith had the talent to Search, anyways." Her voice had resumed the same careful neutrality as her face, and she matched Ibbie's sudden black-eyed stare with hazel-eyed coolness.

Impertinence! Ibbie outright glared at the young girl. Maybe P'ax was a little flighty, but one couldn't expect anything less of a green-rider. And, yes, Nydith was a little short on intelligence, let alone particularly useful skills... but she had no right to use that tone of voice!

~What tone of voice?~ Legyrith, her dragon bond, interjected. ~She might as well have been talking about the weather.~ His own voice was practically deadpan... a trait that had only grown worse with age. If Ibbie was the headstrong, passionate side of their bond, Legyrith was the cold lump of rock side... and was about as interesting.

Quiet, you, Ibbie retorted, I don't need your thoughts on this subject.

~Obviously you do,~ Legyrith replied, his voice blunt with his logic. ~You're just mad because your brother's first attachment didn't work out well.~ He rumbled, somewhere far across the mountain to emphasize his point. ~And I quote, 'He should have a magical first love,' (unquote), but you said that only because you didn't get to partake in such a thing.~

Didn't I tell you to be quiet? Ibbie glared, this time the hard look for her own dragon, rather then Mondriel... however, the girl took it as yet more negativity towards her, and crossed her arms over her chest, her neutral facade replaced by righteous indignity.

"Look," Mondriel began, whilst Ibbie was still in the throes of debate, "it's not my fault that P'ax ran off. I didn't ask for it, and I'm sure that he wasn't expecting it at first, either. However," and here she paused, another of Ibbie's scathing glares rolling over her like water over oil, "I'm making the best of it that I can. If you want an apology, I'm sorry. And seeing as how I haven't been Searched, you may as well give me a hand, now that I'm out of here and not doing my regular duties."

Ibbie all but twitched where she stood, her hands on her brightly coloured skirt, over her hips. She stood stiffly, angry at the commanding tone of the younger girls voice, but unable to come up with a retort to put her in her place. She had asked, after all, and she'd even apologized for what had made the brown-rider upset in the first place! By all rights, Ibbie should be mollified, but she wasn't.

~Emeraldth is practically sitting on me for you to bring this Mondriel girl outside.~ Legyrith suddenly piped up, his voice sounding either bored, or strained... but more likely the former.

Ibbie tapped the fingers of her right hand on her hip, trying to soften her gaze and failing miserably. Why? she asked, her voice more then a little scathing.

Legyrith made a noise very akin to a sigh. ~She says she has to get her brother back for something or other. A Search, I don't know.~

The brown-rider had to work very hard not to start glaring again. Thankfully, the exchange had taken only a moment, so Mondriel wasn't left watching a blankly-staring Ibbie. After a few more shots at the dragon, Ibbie finally ran out of arguments, and then turned swiftly. Her skirts flared about her in a spray of happy colour, a counterpoint to her own rageful mood. Mondriel moved forward enough so that Ibbie could catch her questioning look. "Fine," she all but growled, her arms now crossed, "come this way." And she began a smart march towards Darkling Dawn's great hall, forcing Mondriel to keep pace behind her.