Ever since her leg had healed, Giselle had been going flat chat.
First, there was the running onto the sands incident, which had meant that everybody had been pulling extra shifts and stuff because, well, everyone else was busy taking turns guarding the hatching cavern, which meant that she got stuck shadowing the same senior guardsmen on the same old beat day in and day out, which was fine, except that they ran out of things to talk about after the second day, and it went on for sevenday after sevenday until the EXPLOSION, which was horrible, but also super exciting because then things had been so frantic and busy that she had actually got told to do real guard work, even if that real, unsupervised guard work was basically just standing in front of the candidate barracks door while the proper guards did investigative stuff and tried to search out rebel elements in the Weyr, she assumed, and then after all that there had been the hatching itself, which she hadn't been on duty for, because she'd specifically requested time off so she could sit in the Stands and cheer on her best friend.
And she had cheered, each and every time anyone walked a dragon off the sands, though the horrifying sight of one of the green dragons actually eating a boy had - had... sort of subdued the whole rest of the celebration, but even then, unflappable, rallying in the end when the remaining candidates were led back off the sands in dejected silence, she cheered extra hard, because her best friend hadn't been one of the ones to Impress and she needed the support now more than ever. She'd sent Bojo afterwards to find her bestie, showering her with images and feelings of love and support and how absolutely she rocked those ugly white robes, and then she had stuffed her brown flt full of treats because the image he had passed back on from Marica had been so warm and happy and trying-not-to-be-sad-for-the-sake-of-everybody-else that it had basically melted her heart.
And then, because one of the boys who had walked a dragon off the sands shouldn't even have been there, everybody had gotten a chewing out, which sucked, and now here she was, huffing and puffing, running around the Weyr at night, because a candidate or something had maybe gotten lost? and her sergeant had been all "Giselle, you're a teenager, you know ALL the spots kids would go to hang out, so go check those out" even though the candidate wasn't even Weyrborn, which meant HE probably didn't even know about all the old tunnels and closets where people would go sneak away to snog and stuff.
And while she was pretty - like ninety-nine percent - certain that this was basically just busy work to keep her out of everybody's hair while they searched forests and bog holes and probably feral wher dens, since she wasn't being creche-minded either she was sure as Threadfall going to do a really, really, super meticulous job about it.
So here she was, wandering through the dusty old places around the storerooms just after curfew, extra vigilant.
"Hello? Hello, are you lost? I'm here to help!"