Weyr Life Drabbles: Prompt word #13: "White"
The white-clad candidates marched onto the hot sands.
Lytol watched them assemble, and stifled his emotions. The worst was still to come. Not from the lads, but from the gaunt woman in the shadows, blindly stumbling across the pale sands towards the queen egg.
Oh, this shouldn't be happening. F'nor and Manora cared, but they didn't understand. Nothing could replace Larth, or Wirenth, and it'd cripple a hatchling to try. And yet... if he could have Larth again?
The new queen hatched.
Impressed.
To Talina, not Brekke.
Utterly emptied, Lytol sank back into his seat.
"It would be wrong..."
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