The following is a log of roleplay on Star Stones MOO, logged by D'ney.
All references to the world and characters of Pern™ based on Anne McCaffrey's fiction are copyright© 1967 by Anne McCaffrey, all rights reserved. The Dragonriders of Pern® is registered U.S. Patent and Trademark Office, by Anne McCaffrey and used here with permission.

Note: The horrible--if funny--thing about this log is that Nhaeth wasn't in the same room as the rest of us. I must have been asleep.

-

Weyr Lake Shore

Sand stretches from bowl's floor to water smoothly, leaving a mere lapping of
slight waves to slap against the shoreline. The sand is left less packed here
than it is in the bowl, the soft sand underfoot opening onto the Weyr's
oasis. Mirror-like water can reflect merciless sun into the eyes of the
unwary, but the bold colors of a sunset casting colors against the lake makes
this a much-favored spot. Far to the northwest, the hurry of the living
cavern area is left behind and the warmth that penetrates through a weary
body on the unshaded shore rivals that of the hatching grounds to the
northeast.

Perched somewhere up high, you see Jade, Aerieki, and Frazap.
Halis, Lah'i, M'iah, Ulerae, Betha, G'dean, K'no, and Lina are here.
The following dragons are here: Vhenoth, Sindrath, Olexath, Alath, Remorth,
Chesketh, Saereth, and Circeoth
From here you can go:
Center Bowl        Shallows
Weyrling Grounds   Feeding Grounds

The current weather report:
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
IgenW: Center Bowl Area (#5491)
It is a bright, cheery day. It is a summer midday.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

G'dean giggles a bit as he smiles, "OOOoh, I'm... er... I'm... er... fine." A
shrug from the man as he just seems a bit tipsy, majority of the wine skin
has already been downed. "Awww, winey all goney." Tossing the 1/4 full wine
skin off to the side, tears almost forming in his eyes.

Halis giggles, "Took you long enough." SHe hops up and dusts herself off, got
sand everywhere afterall. She giggles at poor M'iah and winks, "Have fun."
Before she heads over to Lah'i she attempts to find her dragon, there he is.

K'no eyes M'iah and walks off. "I'll pass then." K'no peels off his shirt
and throws it on the ground with a soggy splat. He then takes off his *gasp*
pants as well, and they join the shirt. "I'll just find someone else who
wants some sitting company." He stares at Lah'i and nearly misses the
bottle, but snaps out of the oogle spell at the last minute and catches it.
He pops the top and chugs a bit of it, the reseals it. "Lesson?!" K'no
sputters and looks at his fellow AWLM... and oogles again.

M'iah sticks out her tongue at K'no, "I'm just for show and tell, no
touching." For the guys, anyway... and partially for the girls, depending on
who and where. She takes a deep breath and giggles at G'dean, "Poor, poor
thing. You know, I've been through that delima before, no more wine but
you're just so incredibly thirsty so you /gotta/ have more?" Yup, sounds like
M'iah-Mi.

Drunken tears begin to form around G'dean's eyes as he looks up toward M'iah,
"Bbbbut wine is all gone. And I's still firsty." He's extremely depressing to
watch when he is drunk. A curl up around himself as he pouts.

Olexath toodles to the shore for the lesson, it's another flying one so he's
happy.

Lah'i hiccups, and turns to eye M'iah. "Thanks!" K'no is just smirked at, and
his nakedness goes seemingly unnoticed. "Yup, a lesson. Whatcha starin' at? I
thought you already 'magined my cute butt." She turns back to the weyrlings.
"Okay...what's it this time? Airborne formations?"

Lina looks at a few naked people, shrugging her shoulders. Igen is just
unpredictable and you just simply get used to it. It's weird like that.
"Yes." Salute, even to a few naked named AWLMs. This isn't a normal. How do
you do, morning. <<Are you going to undress, too?>> >>I don't think...so.<<

K'no jumps and looks away. "The real thing is /always/ better than
imagination, Lah'i." K'no blushes and pops the top on the wineskin again.
He takes another chug of it, closes it and looks over to G'dean. "Catch,
G'dean!" he calls out to the rider and tosses the now one-fourth full
wineskin to him. "Airborne formations? Easy." K'no walks up next to Lah'i
and eyes the weyrlings. "Err... Yeah!"

(Satler) Nhaeth arrays his gawky self beside the other weyrlings, eyes bright
above his twitching, curious muzzle. His weyrling is more sober as she jogs
into place, and the nakedness is merely frowned at for some long moments,
though D'ney does glance at Lina's salute. They won't notice, will they?

Halis oh yeahs and salutes just about everyone. For a moment or two she
blinks before asking, "If we're gong to be flying shouldn't we be dressed?"
She wouldn't want to just dash off without permission afterall and her
clothes are off on the other side of the beach.

K'no waggles his hand at Halis and dismisses the idea. "Bah. We aren't going
between, and you can fasten the straps around and onto each other." K'no
looks over at Lah'i's.... Face! "It shouldn't be too much different...
Course... People will see us." K'no blushes and scratches his head,
irritably.

Lah'i shrugs. "Who cares if people see us? Ride naked. I'll bet you'll like
it. I've done it before!" Well. Maybe. "Everyone get mounted up. I have to go
find Isavroth."

M'iah is here, perfectly nearly naked? No, but she doesn't want attention. She
wants to ponder life it's real meanings. Nah, in truth, she needs to find a
Pernese Psychiatrist.

That was a bad idea, projectile object coming toward G'dean. 3... 2... 1...
right into the forehead causing the drunk rider to tip over onto his back.
"OOoooowwwiiiee!" This might be bad way to act around the weyrlings, but he
can't help it. At least he's still fully clothed, so far. "Moooommmyyy!" He
holds his head a moment, sad, even though it shouldn't of hurt that bad.

Halis oks and heads on over to Olexath, naked and all. Then up she slips.
Scrambling quickly up Olexath's deep crystal blue forelimb, Halis soon settles
between iridescent ridges of pure midnight.

K'no snickers lightly and shakes his head. "This is gonna be really
interesting..." K'no walks over to his brown who stares at him like he grew
another head. <<You're.. You don't have anything on, K'no. Are you sure you
can ride?>> "If I fall off, I'll be sure to aim for the lake." K'no grins
at the brown and scratches his eyeridge. <<But.. But...>> "Why is everyone
talking about my butt?!" K'no looks behind him and rolls his eyes. "It's
only for the lesson, anyways." K'no grabs onto the rings and climbs up onto
the saddle.
K'no mounts Chesketh.

Lina looks towards Circeoth, then Lah'i, once or twice rebeled. "You mean, I
have to go naked?" She's a wingsecond, the providential example.
Unfortunately, sometimes. Undressing and everything, clothes folded over onto
the sand - she makes her way mounting Circeoth. <<Hee hee. You're naked.>>
>>Hush you<<

"C'mon, everyone. Yes, you have to go naked. Good experience! Be different!
Oh, there he is. Savvy! Get over here!" Mumble. Lah'i stands for a moment,
thinking to herself, before turning back to K'no. "Um. What's first?"
Lina bends over a little sheet of paper and begins penning a letter.

Confusion registers briefly on D'ney's face, but she, too, nods to Nhaeth,
then clambers up from foreleg to straps to the cherry-dark back. It's a long
way, certainly, hence the haste that follows when she buckles on to the young
dragon. Eyes roll somewhere, as she asides to another weyrling. "We don't
/have/ to be naked, do we?"

Lina has arrived.
Lina looks up from her letter and ties it to the leg of a waiting firelizard
who promptly goes ::between:: with the message.

Aerieki flitters toward Center Bowl Area.

Lah'i says, "Yes!"

From Sky Above Weyr Lake, Isavroth has arrived.
Isavroth has arrived.

Jade flitters toward Center Bowl Area.

Lah'i mounts Isavroth.

If there was a heaven on Pern, M'iah would be nearly there now... Let's see,
Lina and Lah'i so far... and D'ney on the way? Sounds good to her. Let's see,
quick, someone invent the camera!! M'iah just kinda slumps there, watching
the candidates and Lah'i, "Uhm, Lah? I don't really think that you should do
that..."

(Nhaeth) Nhaeth eyes Lah'i with inquisitive ease. D'ney does the same, only
with hazel-tinted challenge amidst that. "Why?"

M'iah adds, "Someone could get hurt."

Astride Isavroth, Lah'i peers down at M'iah. "How?"

Astride Chesketh, K'no grins and looks back to Lah'i. "First we teach them
the v's. The Wingleader is point, the wingsecond is to their right, and then
it goes bronze on the left, brown and brown, blue and blue, green and green."
He looks over the others. "So... I guess that Lah'i can be point, Lina is to
her right, I'll take her left, then Halis is behind Lina, and..." He trails
off as he runs out of weyrlings. "Betha, you're behind me." that should
make a v.

Astride Isavroth, Lah'i gloats. "I get to be point."

Betha shades her eyes from the glaring sun and looks over to see the weyrlings
forming up for something, naked even. Fingers begin to count of on
something. She comments to herself it not being the mating flight lesson,
and certainly its not the betweening flight. Must be something different.
Rider blink, "Huh? How did I get in on this bebauchery?"

Settled in amongst Olexath's icy ridges of pure midnight, Halis just sits
there atop Olexath, waiting for some sort of direction, oh wait, there's one.
Aww, we're doin the V /again/. Couldn't they learn something new? She and
Olexath head over to their spot rather easily and wait again.

M'iah shrugs, "Oh, I don't know... They could fall off or something and
instead of having riding leathers on to break their fall... they'll have
skin, and they're poor pretty... faces." That's it, she wasn't about to say
breasts, nope. Not her.

G'dean comes up holding his head slightly, "Is it me or is everyone naked?" A
look around as he giggles a bit, ooh this is nice wonder if this condition is
permanent. Then a look toward M'iah and then the weyrlings/WLM, strange group
of people. "I think I'll lie down a second." Then fall back onto the sand
with a unpleasant *plop*

Lina mounts Circeoth.

Astride Circeoth, Lina looks over at K'no, misunderstanding. Or, maybe just
not listening. "Where do I go?"

D'ney slews a glance to M'iah. A mutter, "Shardit," and off go the clothes.
Oh, whatever. "No one will get hurt. Unless they fall off their dragons,
and that'd be their own fault." The garments go on the ground. Right.

Astride Chesketh, K'no looks back at betha and replies sweetly, "Because we
need to make the formation even. So we need you. Unless M'iah wants to take
your place?" K'no eyes the woman and looks over to Lina. "Lina, when we are
in the air, you manuver behind Isavroth and to his right. I'll be across
from you. Then Halis will be behind you and to your right, and Betha will be
behind me and to my left."

Betha sensually slips up Remorth's riding straps. In all fairness she takes
her towel and lays it out across the riding ridges then nestles in. A cruely
lusty smile appears on her face. Mounted flight, Betha's way.

M'iah shakes her head, "No, let Betha go... She's an A.W.L.M... And I'm a
useless tease." According to Betha, that is.

Remorth waddles into place then settles down awaiting.

Astride Remorth, Betha rolls her eyes and disregards what M'iah says.
"Alright, who's heading up this lesson?"

Astride Chesketh, K'no throws his hands in the air with a 'Bah!'. "Just get
into the air and I'll have Chesketh tell your dragons where to go. That'll
be much easier." K'no shakes his head and looks over to Lah'i. "Ready when
you are, Lah'i. You're point. Give the signal to launch whenever."

Astride Isavroth, Lah'i has *responsibility* now. She's *point*. Straightening
her shoulders (and, inadvertantly, certain other parts of her body), she
points at the sky. "Let's go!"

Isavroth flies toward Sky Above Weyr Lake.
Isavroth has arrived.

Olexath dragonsnorts. << What an informative command. >> He's a bit lippy
today, but up into the air he does indeed go. Slipping into place behind the
browns, his usual spot.

Remorth flies toward SKy Above Weyr Lake lumbering near Isavroth.

Chesketh launches into the air after Isavroth. <<My rider says once you're in
to the air to get into your position. Circeoth, get behind and to Isavroth's
right. I'll be to his left. Nhaeth, you get behind Circeoth and to her
right. Remorth, you're behind me and to my left. and... Olexath, you get
behind Nhaeth and to his right.>>

Astride Circeoth, Lina watches around her, looking at Circeoth. "You ready
girl?" she says, with a big big grin. Circeoth confirms her whereabouts and
moves her haunches right up to the skies. Free-wheeled and powerful, she
takes her spot in the airborne formation.

Remorth flutters into place behind Beefcake, I mean Cheskath. Off to the left
he goes.

(Nhaeth) Nhaeth takes a short leap, well-calculated to fleet him upwards and
after Isavroth's tail, his own lashing the ground beneath them briefly as the
first wingsweep provides that essential upward thrust. A-hover he goes,
alongside the other weyrlings. More confusion follows as he seeks out
Circeoth's position, and angles himself into place, executing a tight turn in
the process. Fortunately, no one gets hurt.

Astride Remorth, Betha rider nods, she's just along for the ride. It's up to
the dragons now.

Isavroth soars lazily, peering back to watch how everyone's forming up. "What
he said." Above the brown expanse of dragon, her rear parts are...rather
visible. Toldja she'd moon K'no.

Olexath slipped in on the wrong side and changes so that he's behind Nhaeth.
Gunmetal laced wings easily keeping him from dropping Halis into the lake.
She's never ridden anything naked and isn't all that thrilled about doing it
now. Such can be told by her clutching grasp on Lexie's straps.

Astride Chesketh, K'no eyes Lah'i's butt a moment and laughs. <<Isavroth, my
rider says that your rider really does have a cute rear.>> K'no laughs again
and lets out a loud whistle. The brown rider looks around and behind him to
make sure everyone is where they should be, and for the sake of oogling.
It's not often that something like this happens. <<My rider also wants
everyone to hang onto the straps very well and absolutely no show off. Take
everything slow.>> The brown rumbles quietly. K'no looks around again.
<<Is everyone into position?>>

Astride Remorth, Betha looks around giving K'no the thumbs up.

Astride Circeoth, Lina holds onto the straps well. All the time. Tightly. The
imprints of the straps stuck on her fingertips at dinnertime. It's crazy,
man. Circeoth exchanges thoughts of comforting and sole being all around.
<<We're good.>> Rings the green, true and clear. Lina nods, the forgetfulness
of nakedness comes back to mind with a pale-to-pink blush.

D'ney is rather bravely holding up her face, leaning into each of Nhaeth's
glides, hands grasping the strap leathers occasionally. Not too often,
though, just enough to keep that tipsy balance. At this height, the winds
batter at her tight curls, giving the wisp of a kid a lighter, brighter
silhouette. Which highlights the affirmative nod she tosses at the AWLMs.

G'dean watches the dragons and their naked riders... oooh baby he's in heaven.
Drunk so all the people are swirling around his head. "Pwetty dwagons."

Isavroth rumbles with amusement, relaying the comment to his rider, who twists
in her seat to smile cutely at K'no. << Of course she does. She's my rider.
And she says that your rider's isn' so bad, either. >> Lah'i herself just
preens, drunkenly, shouting, "Where'd you put the wine?" Whether or not the
comment is heard, she doesn't care. << Okay. What's next? >>

G'dean has disconnected.

Astride Circeoth, Lina watches the placement of where Lah'i and her dragon
move and makes her way to the right-front part of the V. Very carefully, and
turned about.

Chesketh rumbles pleasantly. <<Good. This is the most common flying
formation, the vee. This is the formation you'll normally fight thread in.
Okay... Isavroth, can you hang to the back? We're going to do the inverted
vee next. Circeoth, you'll be in front of Isavroth and to his right again,
I'll be in front of Isavroth and to his left, then Nhaeth will be in front of
Circeoth and to her right. Remorth, in front of me and to my left, and
finally, Olexath, get in front of Nhaeth and to his right. Look behind you
if you need to check your position.>> Chesketh rumbles and waits for the
movement. He slides out of the formation and waits for Isa to pass him.
<<Isavroth, my rider says that he thanks your rider for the compliment.>>

Remorth slowly overtakes Chesketh until he's a good length forward in the
formation. Betha giggles then wipes away strands of hair from her face.

Olexath heads on over to his spot, whee. Halis glances behind them to make
sure that they're in the right spot while Lexie tries to tell her that he's
got it already. With a giggle Halis comments quietly, "Lovey, you're too far
to the wrong side. This is a V not a diamond." Oh yeah. Dragon wings over
to the correct side looking a bit sheepish.

(Nhaeth) Nhaeth dips slightly, weaving between dragons with obsessive care not
to rub wings or shoulders -- his tail bruises another's faintly before he's
off again -- << Excuse me. Coming up. Watch that wingtip. >> and he makes
it ahead of Circeoth and her rider with a rumble of apology. Almost
invisible between ridges, D'ney heaves a small sigh.

Isavroth dips down to allow weyrlings to pass, and Lah'i turns to grin at K'no
while passing before they take up the rear, and wait for everyone to take
position. << No stunts. Did everyone get that? >>

(Nhaeth) [#iww] Nhaeth agrees in a general fashion, save for the stray thought
that trickles out about how fascinating it is, all of it, and can they dive
in formation later?

Chesketh glides back and in front of Isavroth. As Lah'i passes K'no he smiles
back at her and winks. Chesketh lets out a soft croon and his rider looks
around as the weyrlings move into position.

Astride Remorth, Betha giggles, hair flailing in the air, bossom rising and
falling with each beat of dragon's wings. It is hard to tell but she is
clutching at Remorth's neck, toes curled fingers gripping soft subtle hide.
Head lulls back, teeth bitting on lower lip.

Astride Circeoth, Lina doesn't have big boobs, so it doesn't really have much
effect with Lina. She just rides, moving from this formation to that. Straps
are clinged to as they move.

Chesketh rumbles and looks pleased. <<Okay, good. Now, Isavroth, you stay
there. Circeoth, slow down and edge to your right so you line up next to
Isavroth.>> Chesketh flares his wings and slides to the left, slowing down
and lining up with Isavroth. <<Everyone, slow down and move so that you are
next to the person you were in front of. Remorth, you're to my left, Nhaeth,
you're to Circeoth's right and then Olexath is to Nhaeth's right.>> K'no
looks to his sides and grins. <<Err... Isavroth, my rider is complimenting
your rider again. Your's too, Remorth.>>

Settled in amongst Olexath's icy ridges of pure midnight, Halis still isn't
too happy about riding nude, "Did we have to do this nude?" Is called out to
K'no and Lah'i while Olexath ducks down a bit while getting caught in an odd
air current, "Eek, Lexie!" << Oops. What's wrong with Betha anyhow? >>
His attention snaps back to the task at hand however as he has to change
positions again.

Astride Circeoth, Lina moves a little over to the right more, slowing down.
It's like a break-light with her. Tail swings a little and she makes her spot
right next to Lah'i. "Hi there!" Is loudly called. Perhaps more then needed,
really. Goofy-ness, maybe.

Isavroth stays right where he his, still rather damp from the lake, which adds
brilliance to soft mahogany tones. << How sweet of him. Lah'i says that she
likes to be complimented. Which is rather good, considering that she hated
him this morning. >> Lina is grinned at. << Lah'i says that it's good to try
something different. As long as you're careful not to fall off. >> Of course,
Lah'i isn't in the best state of mind for wisdom, but. Oh well.

(Nhaeth) Nhaeth finds that movement disorienting, but lets himself glide
sideways and forwards, edging to Circeoth's right with just enough wingspace
between them. And back again, to compensate. D'ney peers behind her
shoulder, and a grin passes across her features. "It's the stack formation,"
she calls out sanguinely.

Astride Remorth, Betha balls back on Remorth's riding ridges, looks like she's
getting all cozy. Wind washing up heated body. Remorth moves himself into
position. He know's what he's doing.

Isavroth veers off and swerves around the weyrlings, with a soft warning
before swinging in front. << All right, time for rows. Circeoth, directly to
my right. Chesketh, to my left. >> Pause. << Remorth, right behind Chesketh,
please...Olexath, behind me...and finally, Nhaeth, behind Circeoth. Everybody
get that? >> After waiting for Chesketh to fly up next to him, << My rider
says that the rest of your rider is cute, too. >> Rich, spicy tones color
with surprise, at this - but, then again, she's been at the wine.

Astride Circeoth, Lina pauses, moving directly to the right, which isn't even
that far. Just half a step up, really. Circeoth is so proud of herself,
making waves in the skies.

Chesketh basically stays where he is. He's already next to Isavroth. He
gives him a mental confirmation, followed by, <<My rider thanks your rider
again. He says that your rider is very cute when she's not fussing at him.>>
His mindvoice teems with amusement.

Olexath dragonmutters about all the complements flying between K'no and Lah'i
then ignores alla that and figures out what pertains to him. Ah, smack dab
in the middle. He carefully wings down below everyone before slipping up to
his spot. Halis still clutching tightly at the straps.

D'ney is clever. Not. She's abruptly jerked upward as her mount wings into
place, bobbing a bit in the restraint of the flight straps.

Remorth drops behind Chesketh as directed mean while his rider seems to be
having well a time of her own. ((Dear?)) ((Unghhh)) ((Dear?!)) ((yeessss?))
((We're changing formations)) ((Oooh, yesssh.)) ((Oh my.))

Astride Chesketh, K'no looks back at Betha oddly, and just starts laughing.
He clutchs to the straps and shakes his head, deciding to look over the rest
of the formation. Chesketh compliments all the dragons, <<My rider says that
you are all doing very well for a bunch of naked weyrlings who havn't done
this before.>> The brown rumbles and watches Isavroth for the next command.
K'no laughs again.

Astride Remorth, Betha shoots upright then turns crimson. She looks around
then smiles softly, a satisfactory smile. The weyrlings are doing wonderful
in their formations.

Ulerae goes home.

Lah'i twists herself to survey how those behind her are doing, and nods her
head with satisfaction. << Very good. Let's get back on the ground - and you
can get dressed, if you want. >> With that, he swoops down.

Olexath lands, how ... imaginative.
Assisted by a massive deep crystal blue forelimb, Halis slips down from the
icy expanse that is Olexath.

Lah'i dismounts from Isavroth.

Halis rather quickly dismounts and heads for the water.

Chesketh dozes off...

Lah'i huffs toward Center Bowl Area.

Circeoth dozes off...

Remorth goes down too.

(Nhaeth) Nhaeth folds his wings and plummets downwards, halting with
wing-whistling speed and a wet /foop/ as he overbalances into the sand.

Remorth offers a leg down for Betha, who slips off and dismounts.


Weyrling Grounds

When in use by a class of Weyrlings, the Weyrlings' training ground area is
often busy with Weyrling pairs employed in practice drills or relaxing. The
air space overhead can be a danger zone to those not used to the antics that
young pairs tend to engage in, often seeming crowded as young dragonets test
their wings. The ground area seems spacious, never being quite as cramped as
the area overhead. Well-worn paths in the packed sand show the take-offs and
landings that many Turns have dug. The southeast section of the bowl is
northwest from here and in the southeastern direction is where the Weyrling
pairs call 'home'.

Lah'i is here.
The following dragons are here: Muppeth, Sanath, Llywith, Aidubaith, Daishoth,
Murath, Nhaeth, and Isavroth
From here you can go:
Lake    Weyrling Barracks

D'ney
Short, slightly gaunt around the edges, this adolescent bears Igen's glare in
the burnt brownness of her skin. Uncertain growth has worked away the
childish plumpness from the avid angles of nose and chin, further accenting
pinched features with their harsh planes and abrupt peaks. Below forehead's
darkness, a primal acidity informs her hazel eyes, restrained by stubborn
mahogany curls -- but flaring inevitably into the compact rebellion of a
muscled shape and habitually agile motion.
A golden-yellow linen tunic drapes from her shoulders, straggling under a
thick jet belt at the waist and falling nearly to her hips. The trousers of
black linen are similarly buckled in to keep the outfit snug against the
hazards of adolescent frolic, its hems disppearing into a pair of
extra-polished wherhide boots.
Double cords of maize and jet intertwine in a single, simple loop, wrapped
with a brown sisal ribbon, to denote her rank as an Igen Weyr Junior
Weyrling, rider of Nhaeth.
She is awake and looks alert.
Carrying:
Rip

Inky dollops of dusty rose salmon coalesce the creases of his vast expanse of
seasoned black cherry hide, cluttering into gangly extremities seeped in
sepia before vanishing beneath a facade of dusky darkness. Sleek sheets of
lengthy mocha-washed wings drizzled with an ethereal edge of frosty pink
coral veins engulf him, cluttering the smooth, rounded ridges that bud from
his elongated neck and rosewood headknobs, leaving only a whim of the large,
expressive eyes that light his nervous triangular head. Hints of deep well
metallicy limn his soot-smudged physique, creating golden glimpses that
overshadow the disproportions and discrepancies and glitter the lengthy
starscape frame from rich hazelnut tail to clever ebon talons with heroic
motes of succulent, suffering incandescence.
Leather as brown as his dark hide winds over his bony length, whorling
patterns where the ridges shrink into nothing and girding his underbelly's
frail jet.
Nhaeth is 1 Turn, 4 Months, and 18 Days old.
Waddling into crannies where he has no right to belong.

Lah'i
Obnoxious carrot melts into abundant locks of bittersweet rose, freeing wisps
of vermilion to fuss tenderly about an ellipse of peachy milk-froth.
Midsummer's mellow breeze clouds innocent baby blue orbs, serenity shattered
by spatters of rose-dusted cinnamon and brazenly-spiced saffron, slanting
inward asymmetrically to add a mischievous lilt to her face; lips of elegant
rose are set to a semi-permanent snicker, held between an impish nose and a
strong jaw that narrows to an obstinate chin. Petite to an extreme, posture
is a matter of absolute perfection, haughty shoulders held back and chin
lifted in defiance of her height; feminine curves, once non-existent, gather
fullness in the hip and chest, physical maturity presenting a convenient mask
for a mischievous young woman.
Dreary goldenrod flavors the palette of Laih's *interesting* dress,
uncomplemented by midnight blues and rich mahogany running in a work of plaid
whose designer probably wouldn't admit to ever having seen such an oddity.
Heavily gathered skirt long enough to trip the poor girl, it successfully
hides her usually-flaunted figure from prying eyes; elbow-length sleeves add
distorted elegance to the dress, modesty further implied by a turtleneck
design - and to tie it all off? An olive green sash!
Double cords of maize and jet intertwine in a single, simple loop, long tail
resting on a proud shoulder. Woven in with cunning and care is the old sisal
ribbon from her weyrlinghood, dyed a pure, imperial mahogany, marking her as
the rider of Isavroth, a member of Igen Weyr's DuneRaider wing.
She is awake, but has been staring off into space for a minute.
Pregnant, angry, and starving. With very sharp teeth.

Lah'i is looking at her nails - leaning against Isavroth, fully clothed (ahem)
- and takes a moment to notice D'ney. Squinting her eyes, "D'ney? Oh, good.
You need the flight lesson, right?"

D'ney is reciting something, head pressed against Nhaeth's flank, one hand
stroking the dark hide. Lah'i's voice surprises her, an unusual occurrence,
causing the weyrling to shoot up to her full -- also insubstantial -- height.
"What?" Nudge. "Oh, flight, of course."

Lah'i doesn't have any substantial height, either - unlike her dragon, whose
massive bulk almost equals that of a small bronze. But not quite. "Do you
have your straps ready?" She steps away from her dragon, to give him room to
take off. << Nhaeth. Have you been practicing your flying skills? >>

Nhaeth was apparently absorbed in his weyrling's words, but snaps into
immediate attention now, his belly lifting clear of the ground and snout
going up as if to accost the assistant weyrlingmaster and her large lifemate.
"He's wearing 'em," the tomboyish kid declares defensively, waving at them.
The straps are on, indeed, and polished to a high, albeit unused, sheen.

(Nhaeth) Isavroth sees: Nhaeth has been flapping, and shows you that: those
images of synchrony drilled into him by endless words and thoughts. And
countless near-scrapes as well, though he tries to hide those. Slowly, he
coalesces pictures into scant speech, a thread of impossible blackness woven
through the coherence: << We are ready to fly. >> Wonder.

Lah'i waits for her dragon's confirmation before nodding, and peering up to
spy the straps. "Okay. Could you have him fly a short circle around the
grounds, once, for me, please? Just as a warm-up, before he flies with you."

D'ney nods, and Nhaeth waddles off a beat later, hopping a bit in his hurry to
be aloft. Once he gets to a clearer space, the brown takes a few running
steps, then takes a single arcing leap, wings unfolding swiftly to trap what
breeze there is. Whipping dust behind him, he takes flight indeed, tracing a
brief circle before returning to the humanfolk, landing with a crash of
talons into the ground.

(Nhaeth) [-] Isavroth reaches out with tendrils of nutmeg, mindvoice ever
rich in its bottomless depths. << Be sure to take your time for both takeoff
and landing, while your rider is on your back. You want to try and jostle her
around as little as possible. Keep this in mind while you're in the air,
also, and fly slowly. No tricks - just a few smooth laps over the grounds. >>

Lah'i nods approvingly. "All right. Go ahead and hop up onto his back, D'ney -
and make sure your straps are absolutely secure. I'll wave when you can go."

Halis has arrived.
Halis walks with the usual spring in her step toward Southeast Bowl.

(Nhaeth) Isavroth sees: Nhaeth agrees faintly through the mosaic of dappled
sand that paints his nose. << I may only circle the grounds? >>

(Nhaeth) [-] Isavroth ponders this for a moment. << We can circle the Weyr, if
you wish, after you circle the grounds once. To get the feel of things. I'll
be flying behind you. >>

Nhaeth rumbles plaintively, gingerly trying out his leg. The conclusion comes
as soon as D'ney scrambles to within a handspan from her 'mate. "He's fine,
and don't mind what he says. Doesn't hurt at all. Now get your head up,
quick--" she urges the spindly one, climbing up hand over hand onto the line
of ridges. "--This isn't too tight? No? Okay."

(Nhaeth) Isavroth sees: Nhaeth can--can't--can, communicating eventual
confidence with a shower of pastel-splattered drops of colour. << We will
get to see the Weyr. >> And still plaintively: << That would be nice. >>

(Nhaeth) [-] Isavroth rumbles, amusedly. << Just once. But listen to what your
rider says - if she doesn't want to, then we should stick to the grounds. >>

Lah'i peers upward. "All ready?" She nods toward Isavroth, who takes off and
circles lazily, an eye on the weyrling pair. "All right. You can take off,
now. Remember - careful, and take your time. Well, not too much time, of
course."

(Nhaeth) Isavroth sees: Nhaeth insists that his Dallan would go far;
farther-- the line of thought drops off down a steep precipice, and his
palette hesitates. << D'ney will go where I will. >>

D'ney taps her belt, just to check. It holds steady, and so does she as
Nhaeth launches off, smoothly rising to match Isavroth's height. No clumsy
falls here, when he's in the air, and his tail can switch as it likes -- and
it does, as he mimicks the larger brown's lazy circle with an an oval of his
own.

Isavroth is being mimicked. Whee. Turning his head to check upon Nhaeth's
progress, he slowly completes a circle about the weyrling grounds, and begins
to rise ever higher, with one last check: << Did you want to circle the Weyr?
>>

Nhaeth isn't much weighted down by his rider, so has no excuse for being slow
-- he swoops on at an increasing pace, wingbeats slicing rhythmically through
the cooling air. << Yes, let's! >> the response cuts through another plane,
and he seeks the upward path.

Isavroth soars away from the grounds, heading toward the lake. << Not too
fast, now. >> Dipping down lightly, he skims close to the water, before
pulling back up to fly past a high wall dotted with weyrs. << A little
higher, and then we'll head back for the grounds. >>

(Nhaeth) Isavroth sees: Nhaeth slinks a question into the thrumming depths.
<< Can we weyrlings dragons go so far, so soon? We will not get tired, will
we? >> In the background, his lifemate exults, tiny frame spread against the
sky. Joy mingles with his dilemma.

Nhaeth angles for the lake after Isavroth, and as the brown lifts toward the
wall, /he/ dives, skimming over the water with especial skill. Fine spray
mists his belly when he's done, but he's otherwise dry, and D'ney's long been
grinning from ear to ear. As he arches for the high wall of weyrs, a sudden
fumble comes to the beating wings; he stumbles mid-air, trying to stop and
quite failing in this maneuvre. "Go on, go on," the weyrling is shouting,
"Don't stop!"

Lah'i turns back, slightly alarmed, and veers sharply to position himself
beneath and next to the weyrling, should he fall. << Keep going - never stop,
midair. >>

Nhaeth thought he could, but no, his wings don't seem to allow it, so he flies
on, a disappointed if sorry croon issuing from the lanky jaw. D'ney yelps,
sealing her mouth with a clapped hand. "You can't stop -- you're too big to
do that. There, go up!" she veers a finger forward, pointing to the empty
air in front of the pair. And that's where they go, steadying gradually.

Isavroth soars back around the weyrling and takes the lead position, again,
soaring up above the high Weyr wall for just a few minutes, before angling
back down again, toward the weyrling grounds. << I think that's enough for
today. >>

Nhaeth sheers over the Wall, turning awkwardly before he dogs Isavroth's
flight back to the grounds. The near-miss has made him nervous, really, and
fancy moves are few and far between for now.

Isavroth *did* tell him to avoid the fancy moves, after all. Curving slightly
at the border of the grounds, he lands, slowly and carefully - with the
expectation that Nhaeth will follow his example.

Nhaeth watches Isavroth's landing as he spirals slowly down. By spreading his
wings, the fall is braked slightly, but not without a slight thump and a
shudder as he touches down, hindquarters absorbing the weight of the landing.
D'ney grumbles as she unbuckles and drops down to the ground "I've had
smoother rides." She takes care to slap the brown on the flank, though.
"But never one like this." And raising the contralto to reach the other
pair, she adds, "Thanks Isavroth."

Isavroth turns to eye the weyrling with a hint of approval. << Be careful, in
the air. And work on your landings. But you did very well, for a first-time
flyer - for the next few weeks, have someone out here with you while you
practice. >>

Lah'i beams at the weyrling. *Her* weyrling - she owns them all, y'know. "Very
good. I'll go mark you off on the chart."

D'ney forgot to thank Lah'i. Not that /that/ registers in between checking on
Nhaeth and fiddling with straps. "Okay," the weyrling tosses to her, and
sets to adjusting the girth. The other half of pair warbles (sweetly?) at
the retreating woman -- he's the part with manners, you see.

Lah'i rarely gets thanked, anyway. But the warble is appreciated.

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