An unknown saint had made sure the candidates had returned from the sands to several jugs of steaming klah. It had been a welcome comfort to many that still felt shaken. Roana was not one to turn her nose up at the kindness of strangers and had poured herself a generous mug full (there was plenty for everyone) and retreated outside of the brackets. The whole building was alive with chatter about what had happened on the sands, some shocked, some scared, most questioning what the whole thing would mean for the hatching. Most agreed it could mean nothing good.

After five minutes Roana was starting to hear people repeating themselves and felt she had gotten all the information from eves dropping on her fellow candidates that she could. After that it was easier to process the whole thing alone, hence her trip outside of the brackets. She knew that the candidate master was likely to be descending on them within a candle mark so she didn't dare go far, but she found a standing barrel resting against the buildings wall which provided a suitably comfortable seat.
She settled herself, curled her hands more tightly around the warming Klah and cast her eyes towards the yawning mouth of the hatching sands, watching the last of the high reaches candidates clamber aboard their transport dragon and go between to their own weyr.