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.

(Olexath) [-] Nhaeth sends creeping coils of consideration outward, ticking
the fringes of thought. Reserve veils his search, cloaking and uncloaking at
whimsical intervals. << Brother. How is your Weyr? May we visit? >>

(Olexath) Nhaeth sees: Olexath sleepily responds, a slight twinge to his
usually sensuous bass. << You may come visit, but mine is in a right state
today. >>

(Olexath) [-] Nhaeth subjects this to ponderance too. Foremost: << Is it
safe? >>

(Olexath) Nhaeth sees: Olexath rumbles with amusement. << Yes it's safe.
Mine is just a little chit of a thing still. >>

(Olexath) [-] Nhaeth rumbles in his turn, turning wave over playful wave with
his deep notes. << Yours? >> He seeks confirmation, even as the soft beat of
dusky wings can be heard outside.

Nhaeth has arrived.

(Olexath) Nhaeth sees: Olexath rumbles again. << You'll see. >>

Halis is currently pacing along the ledge though she moves so that Nhaeth
doesn't squash her. That couldn't be good. A hand is raised in greeting as
she manages to stop her pacing, "Nhaeth! D'ney dear! Haven't seen you in
ages." Oh boy.

Astride Nhaeth, First the glowlights of eyes, then the large, stretched wings
loom into view, shading out the light. Leaning into the curve, Nhaeth arches
down -- neck, body, and then the trailing spade of a tail, and he lands,
lightly. The strapped figure aboard jerks about a bit before tumbling down and
down. "Hey Halis, Olexath."

D'ney
Igen-burnt, Igen-born, dusk shades her in, settling over shoulders broad in
comparison to her slight build and tanning arms a rusty brown. Vigilant
angles heighten the harsh peaks and abrupt gullies of her face, accenting
pinched features drawn by a miser's brush. Below forehead's darkness, a
primal acidity informs hazel eyes, capped by stubborn mahogany curls shorn
ragged at ear-level, but flaring freely, fiercely, into a rider's easy
agility and a controlled drawl.
Smooth, almost shiny hide has been carefully molded into D'ney's leathers.
The light brown material is hemmed by betraying tufts of a deep wooden red,
the thick dyed lining shimmering with silkiness that betrays it as finely
washed and tended wherry. The front panel of the clothing covering her front
serves as the front half of the very high, warm collar. The leather and
lining then trail down at an attractive slant to be secured smartly at her
shoulder with bright metal pips. At the waist is a broad thick belt, also of
leather but this time wine red, with small rings working as both decoration
and as functional hooks around her waist. Long, thick sleeves disappear
under nearly oversized gloves, each with several bands for adjusting them
onto her wrists for a tighter or looser fit as desired. Flaring out slightly
from under the belt, the tan leather reaches down mid-thigh, thus revealing
identically dyed and cured trousers tucked into high, black boots.
Double cords of maize and jet intertwine in a single loop, trailing into a
tail; a brown ribbon plays accompaniment beside.
She is awake and looks alert.
Prickly is as prickly does.

D'ney dismounts from Nhaeth.

Halis smiles, "How've you been?"

Nhaeth takes care not to squash the bluerider indeed. He curls up, tail
reaching towards cribbed wings. He's small now, as small as a green. So he
hopes.

D'ney says, "We've been okay. Heard about you--"

Halis raises a brow and shoots a glance to Olexath before smiling at D'ney
again, "What about me?"

D'ney just looked at you.

D'ney shrugs shoulders into frame's petiteness, hands already tucked deep into
the pockets of her riding leathers. "We heard that you were well," she
finishes lamely, then cocks her head at the weyr. "Is your weyrmate in?"

Halis frowns at Olexath again for good measure, getting his 'I'm a sweet angel'
look in return. She snorts and then shakes her head at D'ney, "No she's out
doing something erother. Hard to keep track."

(Olexath) [-] Nhaeth tries greeting, one for each dragon and one for himself,
snaking choral chords through the ether. << Do forgive Dallan. Riders
sometimes have no words for their minds, unlike we. >>

(Olexath) Nhaeth sees: Olexath allows the calm sensual sounds to return to his
rumble. << What was she going to say before she stopped herself. Have you
two /really/ heard? >>

D'ney does something with her hands which involves shoving them in deeper. It's
not warm enough, this Igen weather. "Yeah, doing something. Wing work,
sweeps." She shrugs, then cracks a tiny smile; looks up. Um. "Have you been
sitting here all day?"

Halis shakes her head, "No, we flew down to the bowl earlier. Lexie snacked
and I swam." And saw the healers but that's not being mentioned, "Then Lexie
flew us over to the river and we went flower hunting." Nope, no drills
either.

(Olexath) [-] Nhaeth puts his nose closer to the ground, leaning into the
attentive stance. << Maybe. >> He plays with the supposition, flips it over.
Blue and red, red and blue.

(Olexath) Nhaeth sees: Olexath snorts and doesn't want to play the maybe game.
He curls a protective tail around his Halis and nudges her, trying her to act
somewhat normal.

D'ney puts it flatly, the smile ducking out of sight. Into her cavernous suit,
perhaps. "Off-duty today?" It's almost a question, half a statement, beady
eyes bright in their stare.

Halis coughs and shakes her head, "Not ... quite." She mumbles something about
not being able to between but it's difficult to understand.

D'ney catches a word or not, no more. She leans closer, mimicking Nhaeth's
posture. "W-hat?" There's a clearing of the throat, face turned aside for a
moment. Back. "Then what is it?"

Halis glances about for a moment and then looks at Olexath, "You tell them."

(Olexath) Nhaeth sees: Olexath is rather amused. << Mine's going to clutch in
a few months apparently. She's very secretive about it. >>

D'ney is too blunt, too loud. She flushes, probably in response to Nhaeth's
chidings -- the dragon's uncoiled his lanky length and is rather unknowingly
intruding upon Olexath's space -- a muffled response: "Didn't mean to.
Farseeth said you were 'in a condition' and I thought." Pause. "You /are/?"

Halis nods, "I am." Olexath doesn't seem to mind his clutch brother being in
his space since he's missed all of his brothers and sisters.

(Olexath) [-] Nhaeth takes the news with easy humour, a laugh welling in the
deeps. << That is wonderful. We are happy for you. >> He swifts into comfort,
hurried and belated, elsewhere.

(Olexath) Nhaeth sees: Olexath isn't too impressed with the news either. <<
Not all are, so thank you. It will be fun to have a little one around. >>

D'ney just blinks at Halis for a heartbeat's pause, before she says, "Okay,"
and crumples features into an expression suspiciously like a smirk.

Halis smirks in return, "No shouting about it though it seems someone already
has."

(Olexath) [-] Nhaeth understands, and says as much, sharing a glimpse of /them/
-- weyrmates?

D'ney isn't prone to speech at the best of times, and now, now, she's near
dumbstruck. The torrent of speech arrives after a while, chasing the heels of
silence. "I won't shout. Won't tell anyone, if you don't want. But Farseeth
already knows." Another shrug, hidden in the lazy, slow roll of shoulders.

Halis giggles, "Does he know /who/ the father is?" Farseeth that is.

D'ney's tone doesn't waver: it's been monotonous all along and still is, "He
said the father is a bronzerider." And you know how those are.

Halis nods, "That's true. Daddy is a bronzer. They seem to be the only men
I'm attracted to."

D'ney says, sharply. "Because of the dragon? That doesn't make sense, does it?"
She takes a breath, then lowers her head, hissing reply at the ground. "Don't
you take the--the green stuff? The stuff that keeps you from having babies?"

(Olexath) Nhaeth sees: Olexath rumbles. << Miyu's rider is fine with it.
Alath's isn't though. >>

Halis smirks, "D'ney, I've been living with a woman for a while now and I don't
hang around after flights. There's been no need for green stuff. Then I get
seduced and tada, you've got baby. I could between a few times and get rid of
it, but I don't want to." A hand protectively goes to her tummy which isn't
showing much at this point, just a slight thickening to her thin self, "I've
been wanting one for a while."

(Olexath) [-] Nhaeth fingers the new piece in the puzzle, running logic over
the jagged edges. << Alath? >> He seeks, finds, then returns. << Why is
Alath's rider upset? She is not your lifemate's weyrmate. >>

(Olexath) Nhaeth sees: Olexath snorts. << Because of who the father is. She
told mine that she shouldn't keep it. >>

D'ney is tracking the tale, and it's best to start from the source. "So you
haven't been taking the potion. And not betweening 'cause you don't want to --
'cause you -- you /want/ a child?" Hands appear at last; she gestures
expansively, bewildered. "Why?"

Halis nods, "I do. I have for a while as I said earlier. And even if I
didn't, I wasn't going to do what my mom did even if she had no choice in the
matter."

(Olexath) [-] Nhaeth reaches to fit the missing piece in, but stops short.
There. << A bronzerider. Will he not admit that the child is his? Or is there
some other reason? >>

(Olexath) Nhaeth sees: Olexath rumbles with amusement again. << Mine hasn't
told him yet. But Alath's rider doesn't like him anyway. >>

D'ney knows about parents. Oh, she does. But the interrogation knows no pause,
now that part of it is clear. Dallan waggles fingers at the other. "Your mom
'tweened, did she? There's nothing wrong with doing that. Sometimes it's
better not to have kids." The digits twitch and she clears her throat once
more.

Halis shakes her head, "No, she didn't. She had me." That's all she says
about that for now as she reaches to scritch Olexath.

D'ney is harsh, crisp about this, this unwelcome topic, "And what did she do
next, leave you?"

Halis shakes her head once more, "The aunties took me away from her and raised
me."

(Olexath) [-] Nhaeth watches, chin on cool, cool stone. << I do not mind him.
Bronzeriders are men too. Proud ones, but men. What is his name? >> Memory
slips, sleeks, and shows its fallibility. Go on. He won't remember anyway.

(Olexath) Nhaeth sees: Olexath is silent for a few moments while he asks if
he's alowed to say the name. At the nearly imprecptable nod from Halis he
answers. << The weyrleader. >>

D'ney crosses her arms, her motions deliberate. "You were raised by nannies.
But you're okay, aren't you?" She frowns. "But even so, you want to bring the
kid up -- by yourself?" It's an eternal puzzle Dallan will never understand.

Halis smiles, "With Kayre's help and one of Kay's quints is going to come help
too."

(Olexath) [-] Nhaeth opens his mouth, physically and mentally, emitting a
breathy << Ahh. The Weyrleader. >> He rolls himself over the information,
hide-deep. << I won't tell. Promise. >>

(Olexath) Nhaeth sees: Olexath slips across quietly. << You can tell your
D'ney if you wish. My Hallie trusts her. >>

D'ney taps fingers along a forearm, slumping over arms' support thoughtfully.
Sighs. "I see." And that appears to be all she will say for a week, sunk in
consideration as she is now.

Halis giggles, "It isn't that confusing is it D'ney dear?"

D'ney looks up abruptly, squinting. "I won't do such a silly thing, Halis," she
pronounces, very stern. But her lips are twitching, and the lines of a smile
threaten to displace the solemnity.

Halis raises a brow, "What? Let a lusty bronzerider seduce you and then keep
the kid?" The impish glint is back to her eyes.

D'ney snorts loudly enough to waft away dust from the ledge's edge. "Not the
first, nor the second. Never."

Halis smirks, "Then who will you let seduce you?"

D'ney snorts again -- her nose will fall off very soon at this rate -- "No one.
/I/ don't like bronzeriders. You can have all Igen's if you want."

Halis giggles, "So not a single person will ever seduce you? Will you be doing
the seducing then?"

D'ney says stoutly, "Never!" She reaches out to shove, but desists
oh-so-considerately, chuckling instead. "Great. Now you have to be careful and
not fall over anything." Which means no pranks.

Halis giggles, "I can't fall over up on this ledge anyway or it'll be the end
of me."

D'ney cocks her head. "It's dangerous living up here." /That/ is dismissed too
by a roll of her eyes, and she comments gamely. "What /can/ you do, then?
Isn't it boring, not going out into the desert?"

Halis giggles, "I can go out into the desert, I just can't between anywhere."

D'ney sniffs. "Oh. But you don't have duties, don't have to work much, I
gather. Doesn't sound too bad a deal."

Halis smirks, "I have duties still, they just involve staying at the weyr."

D'ney examines the list. "Moving things around, washing Olexath here,
swimming?" She throws her hands up skeptically, palms up, then moves a few
steps towards the inner weyr. "Don't think I'll ever do it, but it isn't too
bad."

Halis follows along behind, into the weyr, "Why wouldn't you do it? Too
girly?" She winks and walks past D'ney calling, "I've got some juice and
whatnot inside, c'mon in."

Ice Caverns
Dark, mysterious, and colorful the deep cavern is off one of Igen's less busy
areas, yet close enough to the lake that stray breezes seem to always their
way up the long earthen ramp into the weyr proper. Walls have been scrubbed
and polished to a shine, bits of metallic stones picked up here and there by
the glows. Stalactites hang from above, left in their natural state and here
and there a spinner web manages to catch a little light, the early morning
dewdrops sending out a rainbow now and again. The predominant colors in this
weyr are blues and icy whites, except for the bright saffron rug resting in
the middle of the room and a tapestry depicting a wing of dragons fighting
Thread high above the Igen desert hanging above the bed.

A less than small cot has been brought up and placed at the far end of the
weyr. The linens that rest upon the bed are light and airy, perfect for
Igen's heat, and are icy white in color. Atop the linens a deep blue knit
blanket is casually tossed to provide warmth if necessary. At the foot of the
bed is a medium sized chest, beaten and battered, no doubt passed along to its
owner after many turns of use. An equally battered table has been sanded down
and oiled, though it still looks rather old. Four mismatched chairs sit
around the table, adding to the old feel of it. Across from the table is a
rather large hearth, large enough to roast a side of beef in, mantled by an
enormous, speckled-granite slab, scored from Turns of use as a firelizard
perch. Sandfleas have been driven from the huge, carved wooden dragon couch
somehow and the wood has been polished and oiled though there are tiny
imperfections here and there now.

The wherhide covering the small window that faces south towards the lake has
been replaced with a sturdy metal shutter, and the window itself has been
improved. No longer just a round hole in the wall, the window has been
enlarged into a nice large square, a distance viewer resting in front of it.
A small door hidden at the back of the weyr leads to a small volcanic spring
fed bathing pool. Clear, clean water is constantly flowing through the
depression lined with flat rocks sporting depressions for holding sweetsand
and saponon root. A little hole has been cut into the rock for towels and a
hook is stuck just above for holding clothing.
Perched somewhere up high, you see Cedric, Tango, Shimmer, Minila, Jade, and
Aerieki.
You see Halis' Wingleader Manual, Aslander, Brin, and Hallie's Distance Viewer
here.
From here you can go:
Ledge

D'ney has arrived.

D'ney mutters, "About time." --And follows Halis inside, thence to mull over
juice and other more girly things.

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