The following is a log of roleplay on Star Stones MOO, logged by Dallaney.
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.

Sayurith takes to Igen Weyr Hatching Sands for her first PC Clutch! We invite
you to join us by @moving to the Galleries, #5364 or watch via Watchchannels
IW-HS and IW-G.
Entered by Siobhan (#8275) at Sat Mar 24 19:02:44 2001 MST

Dallaney
Gaunt, Dallan is, grown into a gawky adolescent sturdiness. A mass of
indifferent mahogany curls crisps defiantly from behind her ears, huddling to
straggle over sharp eyebrows that cap equally hazel eyes in a thin face. Her
nose is sharp, her chin well-defined; dark brown cheeks and lips naturally
pursed make her no pleasure to look upon. Uncertain growth has given the
slender limbs wiry strength, with a simple agility of motion, but she remains
shorter than most others her age.
A robe of light brown, barely feminine, covers most of her long-legged, spare
shape, sending any hints of figure into obscurity. Of Igen make but
self-styled, the linen material sheers ungracefully just above bony kneecaps,
hitched up in folds to allow easier wear and lighter travel. An ungainly, if
quaint, umber belt winds around her waist, binding cloth to flesh and holding
up the robe in ragged manner, keeping it dipping into the dark sandals that
flicker out far below its hem.
One cord, one loop: the dark and bright colours of Igen Weyr twine on her
shoulder knot.
She is awake and looks alert.
Restored. Perhaps.

[+][IW-G] From Hatching Sands, Siobhan enters the Sands, her broad face
slightly creased from stress as she paces beside her queen dragon to the
appropriate warmth of the sands below. "That's the way, Sayurith," she
croons encouragingly as the queen rumbles her pain to her lifemate.

[+][IW-G] Caramia goes ::between::

[+][IW-G] Aline walks with a sense of half-insecurity, half-courage, in her
steps in from Hatching Grounds Entrance.

[+][IW-G] Dominic walks in from Hatching Grounds Entrance.

[+][IW-G] Tarlin has arrived.
[+][IW-G] Tarlin arrives.

[+][IW-G] Cherrydrop wakes up from her nap.

[+][IW-G] Ulerae is here, bright and early -- or as early as one can be when
running in with curls astray and only half-pinned. "Drat it. That's right,
Reshie, big dragon lay eggs." A 'brat is herded in front of her, clutching a
partially-sewn toy. "Just set your toy down there, and then you can watch.
I'll finish later."

Galleries

Tier upon tier of polished cromcoal-dark granite rises high, each row-hollowed
length offering its own vantage of a view, right down to the wooden railing
between Sand and seat. Large, smooth-walled, and carven with innumerable
rough-hewn, the traceries of quartz reflect the ambient light; no pillers, no
impediments obstruct the line of vision to the Sands beyond, except, perhaps,
an erring head when the seats are full. The heat is relentless but more
subdued, given relief only by the breeze that creeps in through the dragon's
opening high overhead, and the fan of wings from the ledges that jut
half-moons high overhead.

You may 'view' the Sands below, and 'view <object>' to take a closer look.

You see Cherrydrop here.
Ulerae, Nest, Aline, Dominic, and Tarlin are here.
From here you can go:
Sands                      Stairs
Viewing Ledges

Dominic looks around to see if he can find Aline then spotting her he moves
towards where she is sitting, "Aline, are you alright?"

Kaeldra walks in from Hatching Grounds Entrance.

From Hatching Sands, Sayurith measures her length in paces as she suffers wave
after wave of labour's pains, tossing her golden head from side to side as
she goes.

Nest stretches and glances around her and waves at a familar face and smiles
and then glances back at the sands as if trying to support Siobhan and
Sayurith with her well-wishes.

Dominic suddenly notices all the people here and wonders what's happening
here...then he notices the gold dragon on the sands as he realizes that the
clutching he's heard about is about to occur...

Aline is already in, looking back towards Dominic. "Oh, I'm perfectly fine.
Betha was just...being too interesting for me. I suppose she's a nice woman
though." With the gathering of people being pretty huge here, she also finds
a place to sit. Perhaps it's the nose-bleed seats, but it's something.

Cherrydrop curls up and takes a feline-nap.

Megami has arrived.
Megami arrives.

From Viewing Ledges, Remorth has arrived.
From Viewing Ledges, Remorth offers a leg down for Betha, who slips off and
dismounts.

Dominic nods his head, "If you say so...couldn't understand why she'd lie
about who she was..."

Eyochai skulks in from Hatching Grounds Entrance.

From Hatching Sands, Eratoth has arrived.

Mikani strolls in, hips gently swaying, in from Hatching Grounds Entrance.

From Hatching Sands, G'min dismounts gracefully from Eratoth, getting a gentle
croon and nuzzle in passing.

From Viewing Ledges, Betha looks about, spotting Alath, M'iah must be
here.."Oh..." She runs over to join her weyrmate, "You heard too! Let's
watch." She siddles up to M'iah with a slight giggle on her lips.

From Hatching Sands, Gamma leave Mamma Gamma's SunTent.

From Viewing Ledges, M'iah smirks, "How could I have not heard? Alath was
threatending to abandon me in the weyr if we didn't leave /now/." She looks
down at her clothes, "So.. I uhm.. Couldn't change." Brilliant blue orbs peer
over the ledges, watching the queen, "Should be a nice clutch."

Eyochai nearly flies up the stairs in a pell-mell dash to Excitement. "So
anyway," she continues from previous conversation, "I'm going to try and do a
mosaic if the weyrlings let me have all the shards from this clutch. Unless
they're boring eggs," she adds to Mikani. "I can't stand boring eggs."
Daring, she clings to the railing, and looks over for a good look. Nevermind
that there's nothing to see, yet.

Aline looks towards Dominic with a shrug. "I'm not sure. It seemed a little
odd, but..." she trails off, rather interested on the sands. It isn't that
she isn't polite, it just happens.

For the first time in turns, Kaeldra is able to leave the post-clutching feast
preparation to actually watch the event itself for once. It's so wonderful
when you have assistants that volunteer for that sort of thing. On the other
hand, it's not so nice if they wait until the last minute to do so, making
you miss all the good seats. Breathing heavily, the round cook labors up the
stairs and at last finds an elusive empty seat way up there.

Dominic nods his head, "Oh well not that it matters and there's more
interesting things happening now anyroads.." Dominic watches with rapt
attention wondering when the first egg will appear and what it will look
like...

From Viewing Ledges, Betha's eyes dip up and down, "Mm, well love. You do
look lovely in that little dress." She leans over to give her mate a kiss on
the cheek, "Oh, I don't think she would have abandonned you, would she have?"
Shoulders square up in agreement, "Should be."

Mikani looks about, seeing people beginning to fill up the coalblack tiers.
She hangs back, next to Eyochai, who seems to have done this before. "Boring?
Dragons make boring eggs? I didn't know that." She's not usually one to wish
to show off her ignorance about something, but Miki's never even /seen. a
dragon egg in her 17+ Turns of life. "Do dragons lay eggs like chickens do?
Chickens are pretty boring.. they just sit on the nest, and have them."

From Hatching Sands, Siobhan furrows her brow with creaselines as she nods
towards Gamma and G'min. "'Lo," she calls, though a hand caresses her
stomach in sympathy with the queen's pain. "Seemed like the time to come
down." The queen warbles, fluttering her wings suddenly, then settles to the
Sands. Her rider watches, breath caught in anticipation.

Dallaney scuttles up and into a tier, a sandy-haired girl in tow, both heads
held precariously low. "Coming through!" the tanned teenager's contralto
cuts a path for herself, pausing once she gets the pair nearer the railing's
coolness. "It's okay, they're watching too," she comments at the worried
glance of the other.

From Hatching Sands, Time Waits For No Man Egg has arrived.

From Hatching Sands, Sayurith hardly putters a moment before the next egg
barrels down her sisaline belly as if the clutching would continue on at full
throttle with or without Sayurith's consent. Without pause, the queen's form
contorts, tail dipping to smooth a depression in the sand just as Time Waits
For No Man Egg begins the journey of its destiny.

From Hatching Sands, Time Waits For No Man Egg
From Hatching Sands, Like frosted glass, a dark transparency streaks the
sheer beige of this shell with a fast-forwarded fuzziness, hazes the frantic
browned images that blur contour and shape into a collage background of
speeding trains, inexorable pulling tides and the burgeoning growth of a
tree in season. At the round end, motion and form pay no heed to a single
humanoid blotch near the bottom, leaning as if inspecting a stylized watch.
Its spackled markings offer a dark warning to any who would attempt to
command the ever-ticking hands of time.

From Viewing Ledges, M'iah snorts, "Oh, she would've left in a second if I
asked for one more minute. She thinks we were going to be late... A'course,
didn't listen to me." Greenrider rolls her eyes, wrapping an arm about her
blueriding mate's waist.

Aline looks towards the sands, nodding her head. "Look at that one." she
states, pointing out to a first.

Nest smiles over the sands and then clasps her hands together as she sees the
first egg appear and her eyes drink it in, learning its colours and contours
and she almost claps in appreciation.

From Hatching Sands, G'min grins and nods. "Yes, well, Eratoth said we'd
better get over here pronto, and so we did." He turns back to look at
Sayurith. "Where's Sh'lor?"

Dominic turns towards where Aline points and smiles as the first egg appears
on the sands, "That is a lovely egg indeed...and so Large!"

Eyochai wells. "I've never seen a dragon egg that /wasn't/ boring." This means
nothing, however, considering that Eyo has never seen a dragon egg, period,
before. But she's reluctant to seem quite that ignorant. "Although...I guess
that one's okay. Not much color, though." And we can't have that, can we? She
spies Kaeldra, and looks remotely irritated. She was hoping to avoid the evil
stepmother.

Dominic goes home.

"And it starts." Ulerae looks happy enough, bouncing slightly and craning view
upward to get over a tall-and-forward spectator's head. "Look at that. Is it
brownish?"

Megami shifts in, all the while brushing off the invisible lint clinging to
her clothing, making it in just in time to settle down in a... somewhat nice
seat. "Oh, look. I made it. Lucky me." There's a sigh, and the first egg is
sighted. "Oh. Dark one. Pity that." Maybe Megami just likes bright colors, or
something. Eyochai is then spotted, and despite bad relations between the
two, Harper shifts her way over to the mentioned one. "Oh, hello... Eyochai."
Took her a while to remember that name.

From Viewing Ledges, Betha looks over to Alath and giggles. "True, an
occasion such as this is something to not be late for. 'course one never
knows how many eggs will be deposited upon the sands." Feeling an arm about
her, Betha sinks into it contentedly.

Aline watches Dominic go off on an errand, waving to him as he leaves. She
then continues to gaze into the blinding-yellow colored sands, and sun and
dragons. This place -is- a desert. Let's make that clear.

Torn between wanting to stay at Eyochai's side and wanting to squiggle up
closer to the front to get a better view, Mikani compromises by sidling
sideways. "Wow," is all she says at her first view of the sands and the gold
and bronze thereon. And then, "Oh! Oh, my, look! It's all covered with
Shapes! There's a tree, and a man, and a big lake.." She turns back to
Eyochai, who doesn't seem to share the same enthusiasm, and flashes a wide,
excited, little-girl smile.

Nest hears the little girl and smiles and glances back at the egg, tilting her
head to see the shapes the girl can see and she nods and waits for the
appearance of the next one with barely contained excitement.

From Hatching Sands, Siobhan almost claps her hands together in delight as she
views the first egg. "Good work, dear!" she calls to her lifemate, just as
the queen begins circling as though searching for just the right place to lay
her next egg.

From Hatching Sands, A Stitch In Time Egg has arrived.

From Hatching Sands, Sayurith circles, steps around, pacing about the pile of
eggs, working to identify a place to stitch her latest piece of the tapestry
sewn upon the sands. Her belly tenses in her still crouch before the pile,
until a tiny quiver leaves a rumpled mound of warmth and softness behind: A
Stitch In Time Egg.

From Hatching Sands, A Stitch In Time Egg
From Hatching Sands, Infinity's pale glow stretches on plush tendrils of
woven bliss, fuzzy expanses of rose and peach wrapping this egg in warm
eternity. Each enfolding strand wavers of tiny tendrils, stitching smaller
still into the barest slivers of color, forever sewn into shrinking links of
momentary fibers, like infinity's embrace enshrouding. Perhaps hidden within
the prudent folds of soft shades lies the truth of time's relentless lesson.

Of course Eyochai doesn't share the same enthusiasm. She's a Young Lady. At
least, she is when she decides she wants to be. "It's an egg," she informs
Mikani with mild hauteur. "And the shell doesn't have any colors." So there.
Megami's approach is relished, internally, while outwardly she affects that
bored little smirk. "Hello...Ninny." She doesn't even try to remember.

Aline is alert as the second egg is seen and simply enough, smiles. Who can
say what it is about being up in the galleries, even up in the nose-bleed
section.

Megami narrows eyes, before merely waving a hand at the other. "Oh, hush. Just
keep quiet. The last thing I need is to be bothered by the likes of you."
Megami then turns attention to the newest egg, placing a finger on her lips,
grinning in delight. "Oh, that's a nice one. Still a little colorless, but
that's better than the last."

"Oooo." Ulerae watches, bemused. "That one's pretty." Head tilts slightly.
"Soft."

Nest oohs softly at the beauty and colour of the next egg "Oh lovely." she
breathes softly, running her hand through her hair, and she shifts to the
edge of her seat in eagerness, eyes darting between the two eggs and then to
the gold mama and Siobhan.

From Hatching Sands, Siobhan hardly has time to react to the beautiful rose
egg when the queen hisses suddenly, her wings extended rigidly to both sides.

From Hatching Sands, A Time To Sow Egg has arrived.

From Hatching Sands, Sayurith plows with purpose, abandoning the furrow she'd
kept with her lifemate while surveying the Sands to venture forth, blazing a
trail and leaving previously pristine sand disturbed with each step. It takes
but a moment to rake a recess, and then A Time To Sow Egg is planted in the
depression. Before the gold steps away, she tenderly sweeps sand over the
majority of the egg, leaving it half-buried and covered in the nurturing
warmth that will help it reach maturity.

From Hatching Sands, A Time To Sow Egg
From Hatching Sands, Perfect symmetry compliments and balances, dark against
pale, frenzied against calm in the seamless matching halves of this egg, top
interminging with bottom in a pastel zone where the pale frosting of the
crown splashes with violent, roiling colors melting down the rounded base.
Delicate spiderwebs and misty breath sparkle the harvesting light with
jeweled glimmers, while

Ulerae nods in slight satisfaction, neatly tugging her charge to the side as
cyan optics gaze onward. "Both dark and light."

From Viewing Ledges, Isavroth has arrived.
From Viewing Ledges, Lah'i dismounts from Isavroth.

Lah'i has arrived.

"Blegh. Pastels." Eyochai wrinkles her nose at Stitch in Time, ogles Time to
Sow with a bit more admiration ("Much better.") and promptly crosses her eyes
at Megami. "I'll hush when I'm good and ready. Not a moment before."

Nest wrinkles her nose, not sure how to take this next egg but then she looks
closer and smiles at the delicateness that the egg presents and she claps
again, cheering for the beauty that Sayurith is presenting.

Dallaney has an excited Heida murmuring down her throat; she frowns at the
commentary. "Look at that egg--it's the prettiest one ever," can be heard,
together with a squeal of delight once Dallan has edged away from her
effusive cries. She's about to say something else when a trio of herders
tromp in, and both have to worm themselves against the rail.

Aline can hear Eyochai and some of the words that come out of her mouth.
Hiding a little laugh, she then watches the eggs again, observing.

Mikani is just as much a Young Lady as Eyochai, maybe even a little older,
but it's times like this, burgeoning with excitement, that bring out the
childlike innocence of her. "I never said it had Color, I said it had Shapes.
And I think it has better shapes on it then either of the other two. That
last one's got prettier colors, though." She edges more to the side, so as
not to be drawn into Eyochai and Megami's little tiff.

From Hatching Sands, Siobhan steps down to where the young queen is recovering
from her first few clutchings. "What lovely eggs you have, Sayurith dear,"
she murmurs, her face less lined as the eggs make their appearances.
"Loveliest little ones I've ever seen, I'm sure." The geisha queen ducks her
head towards the clutch maternally, then towards her lifemate.

From Hatching Sands, Igen VEM has arrived.
From Hatching Sands, Siobhan drops Igen VEM.

Megami sticks her tongue out at Eyochai, perhaps when the other may not be
looking, then comments on the Time to Sow Egg. "Oh...much better. Notice they
keep getting brighter." So Megami bets that the next will be even more
brighter and colorful than that. "No, you'll hush when I ask. Because...I can
tell you to."

From Hatching Sands, Sayurith plants four large gold claws down stubbornly in
a new spot, determined to expell this next one /now/. But with the first
contraction, the second, nothing happens; then, finally, the third lets slip
%T quietly to its resting spot. A sigh of relief bubbles up from the queen's
throat as she moves on without a backward glance.

From Hatching Sands, A Watched Pot Egg
From Hatching Sands, Minute and mottled grey, this fogotton smallest egg bores
the eye except when the light hits it just right and a subtle pattern bubbles
from its cauldron depths to warrant a second glance. Faint, round marks swirl
and fade, trail upwards in elusive lazy spirals so tiny and barely visible
from the galleries that they could easily be mistaken for a shimmer of heat,
or overlooked entirely. The more watched, the more these burbled, thin, dark
shadows bask in shiney changeability and uncertainty, never growing defined,
always a tantalizing hint of sure eventuality --if one could just be patient.

"If you tell me to, I won't do it," retorts Eyochai, glaring. Ah, but she does
look pleased at the next egg. Not because it's pretty, because it's not. "If
they keep getting brighter," she starts triumphantly, "then how come /that/
happened?" She points at Watched Pot. She nods at Mikani. "Shapes are fine.
Color's best, though. I can make my own shapes. I can't make color." And she
has her mosaic in mind.

Coo. "Look how cute." Ulerae bounces slightly. "All small and gray."

From Hatching Sands, Siobhan glances over at Gamma and G'min before she looks
again at the smallest egg clutched so far. She tries to smooth the worry
lines from her brow before she comforts her queen, however, the golden one
seems not to be concerned with the small size of the little egg, merely
rolling it into the pattern with the others.

From Hatching Sands, Carpe Diem Egg has arrived.

From Hatching Sands, Sayurith lowers her hindquarters, feet pooling the sand
in a single spot. Her claws seize the foothold with a resolute grasp, and she
drops another egg in warm sands. In her wake as she turns to the next hurdle,
Carpe Diem Egg gathers no moss.

From Hatching Sands, Carpe Diem Egg
From Hatching Sands, The red glow of dawning light crowns this egg with a
melting fire beneath a star crest of silvery gray that spills its light down
the shell, splitting it twain, tip to base. Shadow shrouds one hemisphere,
darkness blending, concealing, coelscing to black; dawn flames the other,
lightening from the midnight meridian to a hopeful sunrise brightening of
uncertain yet expectant pristine white. There in the warm glow of palest
ivory, nurtured in the heat of new sands, the light of the sun incubates to
perfection its resolute potential --carpe diem, it asserts, seize the day!

From Hatching Sands, This Thing All Things Devours Egg has arrived.
From Hatching Sands, Sayurith gives a soft grunt as her sides convulse, the
contraction slamming upon her with the speed and pain of a hunger undevoured.
Another grunt, a faint snarl, and she finally pushes This Thing All Things
Devours Egg upon the Sands. It rests haphazardly, unmindful of her baleful
stare before she rests for the next egg.

From Hatching Sands, This Thing All Things Devours Egg
From Hatching Sands, An all-consuming vortex of lightless color, soundless
noise, and spaceless emptiness flame-licks the chaotic surface of this shell,
devouring its size and shape to an unsizeable spiral mass. Iron-gnawing
hoarfrost bites a sharp edge at the sides, lined with equally abrasive rings
of wreck and ruin, dark and darker still of corroded green; the egg's
bloodstained, tattered crown

Aline looks towards the Carpe Diem and This Thing All Things Devours Egg, she
watches them carefully, spying an eye here and there.

"Ooooo. I like that one. Colorful." As opposed to the other one, which Ulerae
studies for a moment. "Dark."

From Viewing Ledges, Betha leans her head on her mate's shoulder, "Look at
them, aren't they beautiful?"

Megami pouts. "Well, maybe I was wrong, then." And so the Harper admits to
such a crime - but probably only this once. "Whatever." There's a shrug, and
eyes the two newest eggs. First the Carpe Diem Egg - "Oh, that's a very
colorful one. Good." - then to then This Thing All Things Devours Egg - "That
one's a tad darker."

Nest is caught up looking at all the eggs and she gasps as two arrive right
after each other and she is not quite sure where to look, at the eggs already
there that seem to have more depth and variety that she wants to keep
exploring or the new ones with new treasures and glimpses to be discovered.

From Viewing Ledges, M'iah smiles, watching the golden one as she does her
work, "They are... Y'know, I've never been to a clutching. I had too many
children to take care of to ever go to one."

Eyochai comments cheerily. "I like that one." Meaning both, of course. "The
first one's got nice colors. And the otherone...well. It's destructive." Need
she say more? As for Megami's error admitting...she'll remember /that/ one
forever.

Peering at the smallest egg, Mikani can't help but feel kind of sorry for it.
"It's so.. small." Tilting her head from one side to the other, she tries to
think of something positive to say about it. "It's, well.. it reminds me of
boiling water, almost. See how there's almost this haze about it? Like its
boiling or something." She spies the next egg then, the sunset/sunrise Carpe
Diem egg. "Oh, look at that one! That's certainly bright and colorful!" Her
face falls a bit at the final egg. "The last one's scary, though. Like it's
moldy. You're right.. destructive. But," she hastens to add, "I certainly
wouldn't call any of them 'boring'!"

From Viewing Ledges, Betha diverts her attention, momentarily to M'iah, "It's
something wonderful, that's for certain. But the exciting part is when they
hatch."

Heida grins, squirming backwards to brush her skirt on stone, and her rear
follows, plopping itself down. Dallan might just hang right there, over the
rail, if not for the next group of stragglers that wend their way in; she
sits as well, while Heida flashes her teeth at someone's remark, perhaps
Ulerae's. "I like the small one better. It's so cute."

Eyochai begs to differ. "The little gray one's boring," she protests
Mikani-wards. "Boiling water or no."

From Hatching Sands, Siobhan sighs as the devouring egg arrives, watching to
see that her lifemate isn't strained by the effort so far. "That's it, dear,
that's the way," she encourages, glancing around to see if anyone might have
a wineskin - she could use a drink right about now.

From Hatching Sands, Sayurith shimmers as sheen brilliance slips from the
gold's war embrace, only to be buried anew beneath the folds of her soft hide
to wait, and wait, and wait anew. The pause fills the silence, stills the
sands, buries the scene in anticipation until suddenly, %t simply /is/
--where there had been sand only moments before.

From Hatching Sands, All In Good Time Egg
From Hatching Sands, Lush shades of blue and green cloak this egg in deceptive
plainness, even while it stands out from among the drabbest of its
encroaching brethren. Specks of jet dot the numerous protrusions at the
poles in prosaic proof, circling each bump enviously; the dots disperse as
the undulating surface gives way to the harshness of a hasty, wind-blown
tundra, wizened browns stealing into verdancy's glint and glamour in the
tussle for anticipated supremacy. On top lies the glazing -- a mist of white,
a barely visible pall extending palest fingers into the spreading gloom --
urging forbearance, pleading for patience.

From Hatching Sands, An all-consuming vortex of lightless color, soundless
noise, and spaceless emptiness flame-licks the chaotic surface of this shell,
devouring its size and shape to an unsizeable spiral mass. Iron-gnawing
hoarfrost bites a sharp edge at the sides, lined with equally abrasive rings
of wreck and ruin, dark and darker still of corroded green; the egg's
bloodstained, tattered crown rusts like the ruined desolation of a thatched
town stained into lifelessness. Not even the apex shines, its once-great
mountain of hope-bringing blue now brutally beaten down to a mottled
rotundity by the sands, once new, now something more anciently worn. (re-emit)

From Hatching Sands, Only Time Will Tell Egg has arrived.

From Hatching Sands, Sayurith starts to smooth out a little hump of sand with
one foot, but a contraction interrupts her. Only Time Will Tell Egg sneaks
out completely unannounced, rolling a little to pick up a little dirt that
might further aid its concealment on the wet shell, stopping in the still
shadow of the queen's heated bed.

From Hatching Sands, Only Time Will Tell Egg
From Hatching Sands, Secretive, furtive mists of foggy gray seep over the
mercurial gleam of molten metal beneath the enshrouding, eerie depths of this
egg's thin, mystique shell. The shine of blue entangles its corrugated
roughness, a peculiar mingling of the dull and mundane with a rich
cloud-white potential that creeps around the base. Near the edges, harsh
yellows intrude with angry stabs of marigold stain, a brightness brazed in
concealment, bathed in the expectation of what the hardening shell will
reveal.

From Viewing Ledges, Tyranoth has arrived.
From Viewing Ledges, Shoulders slouching, Tyranoth crouches for conveniance
ands rumbles smugly as K'mra shimmies from his back.
K'mra has arrived.

Megami eyes the All in Good Time Egg. "That one's alright. I'm still sticking
with the... bright red one." Or, the Carpe Diem Egg. Next, Only Time Will
Tell Egg receives a looking over, and Megami's overall impression is: "Dull.
Pretty, but still dull."

From Hatching Sands, Siobhan notices K'mra's arrival, but her attention turns
to her lifemate in concern as the queen rolls her newest egg towards the
mound of the others, then starts to crooon in pain once more.

From Hatching Sands, Time Is Precious Egg has arrived.

From Hatching Sands, Sayurith lovingly scoops a furrow into the sand, pausing
to squat atop it and deposit a lone gleaming testament to the precious nature
of of time. Time Is Precious Egg barely seen, she gives a half-hearted fickle
kick of sand, moving on to allow her attentions to be drawn to other, more
important, matters.

From Hatching Sands, Time Is Precious Egg
From Hatching Sands, Golden swirls of sand twirl around this egg, deserts of
bronze and milk twisting reverently into the hoard of smeared color that
paints a silent pleading for prudence and order. Blurred lavender tears
trickle down sides lost in the dripping swell of a bottomless hemisphere
dazed of its melting colors thinned into one horizon. The precious
glittering grains of its nether region's surface blends light, sordid peach
tones, fighting the sorrowful viscosity above with a lone apricot, cruel
separation from the begging battle for definition above.

From Hatching Sands, Suspended Time Egg has arrived.

From Hatching Sands, Sayurith rests, panting a few breaths, suspended
inantimate. Time for a break. Suddenly, her sides break the pause, forcing
her to crouch again, to let Suspended Time Egg slide its way into the world.
Another few breaths, as she attempts to composure once more.

From Hatching Sands, Suspended Time Egg
From Hatching Sands, A multitude of colors swirl in wild abandon, brilliant
hues suspended in time upon a background of white and sand that simply touch
upon closer revelation. All blended in illusion to the bedazzled eye as an
animated frame freezes the gifts and flaws of those who play upon it, reds
and golds crash into violet and blue, clashing chromatics to a fearful
unknown distance near apex's horizon. Like time suspended, the egg hovers
the sands, awaiting the moment to burst upon the world its passenger, a
traveller in the passing of time.

From Hatching Sands, Sayurith hops to the left, steps to the right, pauses in
her maternal sand dance with a croon of surprise wheedling from her throat.
With her wings back tight, she crouches, letting a twist of color ease itself
into the sand. All but ignoring the egg, she leaves %t behind, for her 'dear
mate' to cover as she begins the age old dance again.

From Hatching Sands, Let's Do The Time Warp Again Egg
From Hatching Sands, A warp of color twists riotously over the shell of the
egg, bathing it in frantic movement, a swirling cacophany of lustrous shades.
With a jump of scarlet to the left, and then a step of purple just to the
right, it glows with a pair of green handprint marks on either side of the
shell, shades and twinkles tightening the colors into an array of
contortions, an insane contrast of light and dark, hard and soft, thinning
and widening. Bending and twisting, rocking and rolling, the very visage of
this egg's curves beckons the eye into a time warp --again and again and
again...

"It is, that," Ulerae admits to Heida, leaning forward again. "Another two."
Pause. "What d'you think of those?"

Eyochai gives up on individual eggs, and merely shrugs. "Eh. Some are okay."
Too many. "I dunno. I've seen firelizard eggs that were much better."

K'mra slips down from the ledges, attention slanting towards Sands first as
she identifies those currently upon it, then towards the galleries itself.
Offering a smile, the brownrider spots Lah'i and shuffles that-way, calling
cheerily, "Laih!" No, she doesn't use the real name. Too many syllables.
"Hey. Make room for me."

Hollie has arrived.
Hollie arrives.

Aline takes a moment to look at most of them, with a keen smile running across
her lips. "It looks like a nice batch." But who is she to say, and whom is
she talking to.

From Hatching Sands, Siobhan blinks and almost misses the trio of eggs that
has just arrived. "I don't think I ought to cover your egg for you, dear,"
she calls to the gold dragon. "In case you might want to roll it towards the
others too." The queen tosses her head, then showers the eggs with sand as
she digs a small hole in the Sands.

From Hatching Sands, Time Flies When You're Having Fun Egg has arrived.

From Hatching Sands, Sayurith stops suddenly, body shivering and sending her
into a laying crouch. There is no more than this, before Time Flies When
You're Having Fun Egg all but leaps out onto the sand, all too eager to be
out of that confine and out to the steaming heat of the sands to boogie some
more.

From Hatching Sands, Time Flies When You're Having Fun Egg
From Hatching Sands, Never-ending swirls of variegated color weave and whirl,
metamorphosing right before the eye from the calm platitudes of their duller
versions to their fun, if not multi-talented, hues. Pale translucence of
pink, sky blue and yellow vie for supremacy with wine gold, green and purple,
an infinite motion of sprouting color which blends, yet balances, and never
slows for an instant. Constant vibrations shiver their way over the sides
impatiently, oblivious to the occupant within and its destined eagerness to
escape the confines of its constricting home.
From Hatching Sands, Sayurith nearly flies from the last ovoid that emerges
from her egg-heavy frame into the next one that the gold pushes from her
body. There's only enough time to make superficial scratches at the sand,
dragging a ragged rut with her talons that simply must do for the moment;
time passes much too quickly, and before long the newest addition to the
Sands, %t is nestled in the shallow hollow.

From Hatching Sands, Where Time Goes Egg
From Hatching Sands, Myriads of mini-colors vibrate the time-pocked shell of
demure, almost tiny egg, enrichened taints of pale baby-blue and softest
strawberry borne upon narrowed apex, pastel shades to the vague ripple of
smoothness disturbed by asphalt dark faux-tracks running beneath. Gay and
airy, whimisical streamers of bubblegum pink whirl amid maypole hues, emerald
skeining to the smooth tawny bouncing haphazardly across brilliant
aquamarine. Quickly, quickly, swiftly does brightened shade drain from
carefree tones: dismal and somber, stormcloud grays struggle after elusive
half-glimpses of money-sharp green, goals neither met nor lost as all drains
down to its rabbit-hole base.

Tarlin goes home.

Heida flutters her silvery lashes at Ulerae, puzzled. "Too many to count,"
she muses, "But they're all very cute, and they look different too." She
grins again: this be a great revelation. Dallan grunts.

Megami counts. "Four eggs, so quick." She brisks eyes over each one. In the
respective order of each one: "Bright is always nice, oh, that's one's
multicolored, yes, tha'ts... nice. Very smeary? Um. More swirls." Then, the
fifth. "Oh, that's one's nice. These are much nicer."

Ulerae laughs slightly, brow furrowing in contemplation as view is momentarily
obstructed by a standing passerby. "--Oh! Two more. Lookit that. They're both
so colorful."

Too bad Eyochai doesn't feel like betraying her favorite eggs enough to
disagree with Megami. So she just grunts at the girl.

Mikani's brow furrows; she still won't say anything negative about the eggs.
It's just not her way. "Wow, look at the colors on those last two. They're
really something." She slips even closer to the edge of the galleries,
totally lost in the spectacle below her. Eggs, the dragons and their mates,
the flurries of sand as the gold dragon digs trenches, lays eggs, and covers
the eggs with sand. "Oh, strawberry and sky, that's certainly different.. and
yet, it seems kind of sad, as well. It reminds me of what the fields look
like, after there's been a big Gather."

From Hatching Sands, Siobhan watches the vibrating colours of the newest egg,
then shakes her head, almost mesmerized by them. "Lovely, dear, just
lovely," she assures the golden dragon. Sayurith shakes her head from side
to side a bit, her own once-full belly no longer bulging as it was. But just
as Saab is about to call the clutch closed, the queen hisses in pain and the
final three eggs arrive.

Aline observes, her head tilting about as she searches over the eggs, even
from a bad spot.

From Hatching Sands, Sayurith considers first one spot upon the Sands, then
another -- no, here! Here! Indecisiveness wars with anxiety, until, at last,
the gold makes a hasty compromise and decides on an inconspicious dune,
molding and shaping the fine grains as quickly as possible until perfection
is reached. Such tranquility only lasts for seconds, however, as %t flattens
the mound and spreads chaos, sand spraying in all directions.

From Hatching Sands, Time Is Of The Essence Egg
From Hatching Sands, Lightning, tornadoes, hurricanes and ice storms assault
this black egg's leathery shell, ice white and blue wind clashing together as
haphazardly as glaciers crashing into gale-battered land masses in a hasty
gobbling of every second's benefit. Storm-frenzied angry red drives lightning
yellow across the ice sheets of its surface, wasting nothing in the
monsoon-drenched mud of each apex's exploding fury, nearly concealing the
calm, peaceful pearl that waits behind the violently clashing thunderheads.
Only the faintest peek of cerulean amid the whirling grays and silver hints
at the hope of anything soft and soothing.

From Hatching Sands, Sayurith restlessly shifts, unable to decide upon the
perfect spot to lay her next burden to rest. Such a precious choice can't be
rushed, and when the gold finally picks a still, untouched place to disturb,
she shapes and molds the sand until everything is satisfactory, leaving a
precisely rounded hollow to welcome the egg that comes next: %t.

From Hatching Sands, All Things Will Be Clear In Time Egg
From Hatching Sands, Silk sheens across a crystalline shell, soft shades of
transparency overwashing the roundness of the ovoid shape. The light passes
in... and through... leaving scintillations of light to rebound and shimmer
all the way across it, and slip out the other edge. Satin smoothness shadows
within, the edge of somethnig sight unseen in the opacity of its light shell,
new revelation within, new life to be revealed in the twilight hours of
time's dawn.

From Hatching Sands, Sayurith flutters her wings, then presses them heavily to
her sides, as though to help with the evacuation of her womb. A breathy bugle
gives her strength, and %t is deposited to the sand, almost frosting the very
sands beneath it. Without hardly a backwards glance, the queen steps onwards,
leaving it to the heat.

From Hatching Sands, When The World Ends, All That's Left Is Time Egg
From Hatching Sands, Nothing. Darkness. A still, icy black void without
movement or life, touches the roundness of this egg, coating it with nothing
but cold indifference permeate the spaces between the stars that so much as
hints at anything but the still chill of ::between:: to the eye. But even
here, hope glimmers in a soft sliver of golden light that glows along the
base of the egg, barely a gray lightening, and yet there stealing upwards,
warming the base with its kiss. Life beneath resides in the blackness of its
timelessness --and will leave it in shards.

Heida twitches her shoulders, desperate for description. "Colorful," she
chirps happily, swinging slightly to one side as the passerby obscures /her/
view next. "I've never seen a clutching before--ohh, that one's lovely!"

Ulerae
Bottled sunlight butters the well-cared softness of Igenite physique; skin is
unburnt, browned, toffee richness spilling o'er appendage and face alike,
where mischevious bronzes lurk in the hollows of slightly-pudged cheeks and
the round curve of a demure chin. Lazuli melts into the gold-rimmed aureoles
of lucent-smalt gaze, curled 'lashes sweeping briar thorns despite tawny
lips' amused, keen twitch and early crinkles of Sol-born laughter lines 'bout
warm, giving eyes. Middling in height, form has settled, rounding out hips
and adding affable curvature to her charmingly urbane outline; equally so,
tressing is neither almond nor jet, toned glossy coffee-brown 'round
shoulders and solar-brightened with the arbitrary glitter of rust and
chestnut twists.
Mossy green leather hangs sturdily off her body, tight pants hugging hips;
below the knees mildly flared above sleek, clinging black boots. A
long-sleeved jacket falls with looseness 'cross shoulders and round trim
waist, opened to reveal a simple white tank-top underneath.
Warm gold curls with clean ebon, the cords, loop, tail and tassle evident in
their good care, valued by this Assistant Headwoman.
She is awake, but has been staring off into space for 3 minutes.
She's Ulerae. Whaddaya expect?

Megami barely has time to look over each egg, and review it. "Uh? Dull,
colorful, dull, dull, colorful, nice but dull, very good." It's all random
order, no doubt she's got them all mixed up. "Too many. Can't check them
/that/ good anymore, seeing she keeps burrying them." There's a slight
grumble, or the like, but Megami just fluffs up and peers over to the sands."

Nest rubs her hands together and shakes her head at the differences between
all the eggs, eyes wide as she takes them all in and she grins proudly as if
the clutch was hers, her pride coming for the gold being a clutchmate of hers
and the clutchfather her wingleader.

"It is," Ulerae agrees with a twitch of tawny lips. And continues watching.

From Hatching Sands, Siobhan blinks in weariness, hardly believing that the
queen is finished. "Really, dear?" she asks her lifemate, who has just
finished placing the eggs to her satisfaction. "That's all of them?" She
tallies the count - 17 lovely eggs on the Sands. Quite a nice clutch for a
junior gold dragon!

Eyochai looks disappointed as someone near her finishes up a bet. "Shells,"
she mutters in colorful frustration. "Should've dropped a mark or two on it."
She might've earned something, and -- nevermind money -- her father would
have been furious. "Seventeen," she repeats. "Joy. That's seventeen less
Ninnies running around Pern, when we're done with this." Leaving Pern free
for her.

Dallaney peers over Heida's shoulder at the assistant headwoman, a feat that
requires some wresting of her head away from eggs and pressing the other's
back down a little. "But that's the..." she mutters to the younger girl,
then is arrested by the pause in the queen, down below. "Seventeen," says
she, confidently. She counted, yes.

Nest sits back as she hears Siobhan's voice "Seventeen." She nods to herself
proudly again and smiles "Yes Peyth, it be a nice size." she says softly in
response to an unheard question.

From Viewing Ledges, Betha {page poses} diverts her attention, momentarily to
M'iah, "It's something wonderful, that's for certain. But the exciting part
is when they hatch."

Lah'i leans forward into the railing, eyes glittering as she looks out over
the eggs - seventeen beautiful eggs, with liddle babies contained inside
them. Swoonsigh. Glancing over, she grins and waves at K'mra, scootching
over. "Aren't they purty?"

Aline gets up, slowly, looking around a few quick times. Moving towards
Eyochai, she bends down so she isn't such a distraction. "What do you think
of this clutch?" Bets are already being made, near her.

Megami eyes Eyochai, but dares not to ask. "Whatever your definition of
'Ninny' is, I don't want to know it." Or, she cna just state her pleads
clearly. "Seventeen is a good size, I imagine." There's a sigh of some sort
or another from the Harper, then she snaps her fingers at Eyochai. "Slave.
Let us go and fetch me some wine."

From Viewing Ledges, M'iah giggles, "When they hatch. That's definately the
most wonderful part of all." The greenrider murmurs under her breath, leaning
for support against her 'mate. "Wow... Nice clutch. We should have some nice
hatchlings outta those."

Over comes K'mra, sans her own little -- or not so little -- babies for once.
"Nice," she agrees as she casually crosses arms over the rail, peering down
at the Sands. "Very nice. Good number. I like it."

Amazed. Awestruck. These words best describe how Mikani feels veiwing her
first clutching. "Black? Black eggs? TWO?" Coppery brows fold down on
themselves; are eggs supposed to be black like that? The queen fusses with
them and buries them along with the rest, so she guesses they're all right.
Working her way back Eyochai-wards, she just has to ask, "Is seventeen a good
number?" to the riders surrounding her. Hearing the tallies around her, and
the affirmations that yes, seventeen's a good number, she smiles sunnily,
only to be brought up short at Megami's behaviour. "We have drudges to
perform those tasks," she says softly.

Eyochai makes a show of reluctance, Megami-wards. "Much as I'd love to, Ninny,
it's all spoilt." Which has left her rather grouchy, too. "But I bet you
could get the last bottle if you scrubbed my Da's office." Cackle. Aline gets
a vague shrug, but more friendliness. "It's okay. I like some of them. Nice
colors. What do /you/ think?" Just in case opinions differ.

"/Exactly/." That's to Mikani. "Drudges, indeed. I would never ask anyone of
important status to do such a task. Therefore, I asked Eyochai." Makes sense
to Megami, and so the Harper continues to stroll towards the stairs. "Your
father's office? I'd rather not. They're bound to have some meal set up,
anyways." So they /should/. Or this Harper will not be...pleased.

From Viewing Ledges, Betha nods, "Yes, I think so." She looks around then to
her mate's eyes with her own, "Speaking of wonders, how are you and your soon
to be bundle of joy doing?"

Hollie goes home.

From Hatching Sands, G'min hops quickly and agilely up the straps, throwing
his leg over Eratoth's side, and settling himself between the neck ridges at
the shoulder.

Aline looks towards Eyochai, licking her lips towards the sands as she thinks.
"I liked a few of the darker ones, and some of the ones with many colors."
she points out the few, looking up towards Eyochai with a smile.

From Hatching Sands, Gamma sways seductively toward Hatching Grounds Entrance.

From Viewing Ledges, M'iah eyes her very littlepoof of a stomach, "Doing
alright, I s'pose..Though, I had a drink of wine this morning. Hmm.. Don't
think I should keep that up."

Eyochai bahs. "Status shmatus. Ninny." She'll define it if Megami really wants
to know, but she hasn't been asked nicely yet. "The darker ones weren't bad,"
she agrees with Aline. "Dunno, though. I'll have to come back when it's not
so busy up here."

From Hatching Sands, Eratoth glides with perfect grace toward Sky Above
Hatching Grounds.

Vex wakes up from his nap.

Aline nods. "I think you have a good idea." she offers with a nod. "It's hard
to see over everyones' heads." Obviously.

Megami sighs. "Well, I say we make for the wine. Wherever it is, I'll assume
the caverns. Anyone coming with me?" Eyelash flutter.

Dallaney draws her legs up, to better allow the gaggle of crafthall girls past
-- Weavers, judging by their extensive scrutiny of colour and patterning --
these glide past Megami, down the stairs, and Dallan draws Heida's attention
that way as well. "That one, there, isn't that your sister?"

From Hatching Sands, Sayurith considers first one spot upon the Sands, then
another -- no, here! Here! Indecisiveness wars with anxiety, until, at
last, the gold makes a hasty compromise and decides on an inconspicious
dune, molding and shaping the fine grains as quickly as possible until
perfection is reached. Such tranquility only lasts for seconds, however, as
%t flattens the mound and spreads chaos, sand spraying in all directions.

From Hatching Sands, Time Cuts Down All, Both Great And Small Egg
From Hatching Sands, Lightning, tornadoes, hurricanes and ice storms assault
this black egg's leathery shell, ice white and blue wind clashing together as
haphazardly as glaciers crashing into gale-battered land masses, as silently
as atoms imploding upon themselves in a hasty cut of every second's benefit.
Storm-frenzied angry red drives lightning yellow across the ice sheets of its
surface, wasting nothing in the monsoon-drenched mud of each apex's exploding
fury, nearly concealing the calm, peaceful pearl that waits behind the
violently clashing thunderheads. Only the faintest peek of cerulean amid the
whirling grays and silver hints at the hope of anything soft and soothing.

Nest stands up and smiles "I must go congratulate them all." She darts down
the stairs, duties recalled.

From Hatching Sands, Siobhan blinks. Make that 18.

Eyochai goggles at the most recent egg. "Hey! Can she do that?" She /was/
going to follow Megami and pester her, but now she's reluctant to leave quite
yet.

Mikani has heard about the wine being spoiled.. in fact, she's not had any
wine in a good long time, because those who have it are very close-fisted
with it. She might see about getting a bottle or two the next time she visits
her parents, but with all the people around the weyr lately, /that's/
certainly not going to be any time soon. "Hey look!" She points out across
the sand, where the gold appears to be.. doing something. "Eyochai, its
another egg! Eighteen eggs, and 3 black ones. Mayhap we ought to stay.."

Nest walks toward Hatching Grounds Entrance.

From Viewing Ledges, Betha shakes her head, "Hmmm, not to heavily, I'm sure
the healers will have their suggestions. And do listen to them, they know
what they are talking about." Then she whispers, "Well sometimes."

Aline looks towards Siobhan, and her dragon. "That was...unexpected." Blink,
another blink. Looking at Eyochai, she questions. "What about that one, what
do you think?"

Eyochai isn't willing to start tossing opinions carelessly. "Destructive," she
says again. Gleefully. And then she starts down the stairs. "I'm hungry.
Let's get something to eat."

"And the last." Ulerae's nose twitches slightly. "I think."

And those who thought the clutching was concluded glance back quickly.
"Another one," Dallaney grins, really grins, this time. Heida can scamper
off with her sister now, as there's a slight jam at the nearest exit. "Did
she forget, do you think?" she tosses off to Ulerae, as nearest observer.

Eyochai skulks toward Hatching Grounds Entrance.

Mikani strolls in, hips gently swaying, toward Hatching Grounds Entrance.

Megami nods. "Bother with the newest egg." Harper continues down the steps,
before stopping. "I'm sure you'll be seeing Sayurith clutch twice as many
after a few glasses of some Benden."

Megami walks toward Hatching Grounds Entrance.

Ulerae laughs, but stands, stretches, and scuttles down with her own charge in
tow. "Probably not. There'll be a party in the living caverns, though. You
gonna come?"

From Hatching Sands, Siobhan has disconnected.

Aline looks towards the doorway, rushing after. "Hey, wait for me!" she calls,
squeaky-voice as she scuttles out.
Aline walks with a sense of half-insecurity, half-courage, in her steps toward
Hatching Grounds Entrance.

"I'm coming--" Dallan rises, too, slipping off the tier. "--But Heida's gone.
She found her sister." And seeming glad at encouraging some family reunion,
she nods to Ulerae with wary amiability.

K'mra has connected.

Ulerae perambulates diffidantly toward Hatching Grounds Entrance.

Hatching Grounds Entrance

Stray particles of black and gold scatter along the browned sandstone and
slicked-granite surface of the floor, its darkened patina worn to pathways by
turn upon turn of hopeful and excited footsteps. The heat is striking, even
here, already rolling in waves off the sands, with only the occasional stray
breeze to shift the air. Large and barrel-shaped in appearance, it also
posesses amazing acoustics, and even the softest whisper echoes as if spoken
aloud, making this passageway almost unbearably noisy when crowded.
The bowl slopes away in two directions from one end of this passage, while the
entrance to the Sands yawns at the other; a narrow corridor leads up and into
the galleries.

Lah'i huffs in from Galleries.
Ulerae perambulates diffidantly toward Northeastern Bowl.
K'mra strides in from Galleries.
Lah'i huffs toward Northeastern Bowl.
K'mra strides toward Northeastern Bowl.

Dallaney patters down the stairs, melding into the throngs of Igenites leaving
the galleries. Except for the occasional skitter off course and headlong
rush pass a few, that is.

Northeastern Bowl

Sun-baked sand has scoured everything smooth; heat has been unleashed to full
throttle during the day with little respite. The only shade comes from the
tall sides of the hollowed volcano walls that the sand has beaten against to
form interesting patterns. Even in the cooler nights the heat from the
hatching grounds can be felt. From here you can see the living cavern in the
northwestern area of the bowl that is past the central bowl, glintings of the
south-bound lake and even catch glimpse of the feedings grounds over in the
southwest.
A plateau rises just to the north and the entrances to the weyrleaders' weyrs
can be glimpsed along with the sheen of metallic hide as occupants sun
themselves.

K'mra goes home.

Dallaney treks on.

Center Bowl Area

Open air but allows for more heat to envelope each form in the usually fairly
busy section of the bowl's center area that greets eye eyes of those coming
through the west entrance. Lifting wings to flight and shooting past during
landings are two of the most common activites for the Weyr's draconic
residents. To each side, evidence of the Weyr's true volanic nature can be
seen: rough edges reaching skyward in sand-blasted fingers of spires that
scrape the underbelly of the sky. The living cavern area can be seen towards
the northwest and the hatching sands are evident due east, accessible through
the northeast or southeast sections of the bowl. To the south, the glitter
and glimmer that is the lake becons forth to offer cool respite.

Light clouds wisk along high in the sky. It is a winter morning.
Perched somewhere up high, you see Bromie, Lime, and Culpa.
You see Naavath here.
The following dragons are here: Halaith, Lirith, Kaeth, and Paenth

NorthWest Bowl

A shelter from the stronger desert winds that strike across much of the rest
of the bowl, the original founders of the weyr found the lee a suitable
location for the most active area of the weyr. A gaping stone awning
provides covered protection and suitable sunning space for the occupants of
the dragon infirmary. Shallow steps lead into a recessed entrance to the
guest weyr. A much smaller entrance leads to the living caverns.

Perched somewhere up high, you see Tembler and Rock.
The following dragons are here: Loralith, Israeth, Dagath, Maestoth,
Xuxakeirth, Jazyth, Yinxiath, and Xweth

Lah'i huffs in from Main Living Cavern.
From Sky Above Northwest Bowl, Isavroth has arrived.
Isavroth has arrived.

Dallaney is making her slow way from galleries to caverns along with the rest.
She dodges the huffing Lah'i; slices her way across to the archway.

Main Living Cavern

The careless glitter of rose quartz reflects and refracts the light from
within its bed of granite, each beam bringing a new shifting, a new subtlty
of sight. Rows of long trestle table are seated in orderly awareness under
the carven vault of the ceiling, centered around a great dais upon which sits
the best-made one; this, too, shows the roughness of the others, but a
roughness smoothed by time, and accented by the complexity of beams that show
Turns-taken tesselation in their upward arch. Neither tapestries nor
coverings mar the marbling of wild beauty, leaving unadorned grandeur that in
naturalistic simplicity provides comfort to the occupants of the cavern.
One archway, the only covered by a drape of black and gold, shields the
entrance to the bowl from the blow of sand; another, almost unobtrusive,
marks the entrance to the lower caverns through a short, winding and
uncarefully-carved tunnel.

Perched somewhere up high, you see Zippo, Bob, Screech, Ojo, Maestro, Triton,
and Vulcan.
You see Rushweed Basket, Beast, Ierie, and SurfBlaster Wing table here.
Creiana, Eyochai, Mikani, Megami, and Ulerae are here.
From here you can go:
Kitchens               Lower Caverns
Bowl                   Infirmary

Mikani looks over at Eyochai. "Do you really think so? Somehow, that just
doesn't seem like something Noa would do." She looks puzzled, and heads for
one of the trays of meatrolls she set out earlier. Snagging a handful, she
makes her way over to the table, and finds.. that discarded basket. "Oh, no!
The napkins! I never finished folding the napkins!" She hurries over to the
basket, pulls out a handful of slightly wrinkled napkind, and, slipping the
meatrolls into one of them, she wipes the grease off her fingers and begins
to fold swiftly.

"Now go store your doll in a safe place, Reshie." Ulerae ushers the kidlet off
with a flutter of hands, tawny lips twitching to the side in amusement before
she paces, satisfied, to her pastries. Dallaney gets a glance over one
shoulder. "Want one? Wasn't the clutching exciting?"

Megami yawns slightly, placing a few fingers to cover the gap her mouth makes,
before reaching for the wine bottle, then setting it back. "No good? Pity
that. ...Um, dear." That's to Mikani. "You wouldn't mind running off and
finding some wine untouched by certain gardeners?" That'd help Megami much.

"Forget the napkins," Eyochai urges. "Doesn't matter if they're folded or not.
They work just as well." She starts pestering a brownrider, who appears
content with whatever beverage she's currently drinking. "Any alcohol in that
stuff?"

Betha walks in from NorthWest Bowl.

A safe place would be nice. Dallan trots in -- she's on one of her
faster-paced trots at present, and easily outstrips the weyrbrats in front.
"Hello," she calls to a certain crafter, then beelines to the pastries.
"Looks good," and she reaches out to poke at them. "Yeah, very." Yum.

Ulerae offers the basket to Dallaney with a flickering beam, eyes fluttering
from basket to surveying and back. "Take your pick. I've got mine."

Mikani halts in mid-fold, and looks over at Eyochai. "D'you really think so?"
Intrigued, she looks down at the basket, then shrugs, carries it over to the
small table where the dishes are, and sets it next to the dishes. She looks
at it for a moment, then dashes out to the kitchens and returns.. with a
dusty-looking bottle and a festive green ribbon. Tying the ribbon around the
handle of the basket, she smiles at it and nods her head. It certainly looks
more festive. She slips a napkin out of the basket and wipes off the bottle
before heading towards Megami. "I found this bottle down cellar.. I'm not
really sure how good it is.. it looks to be quite old.."

Megami snatches up the bottle from the assistant cook. "Oh, yes. The older the
better. Faranth forbid Noa lay a finger on htis." Harper shrugs, then
proceeds to attempt to open the bottle. But, fails quite terribly - as she
always does? "Oh. I'm worthless with this kind of thing...anyone want to try
for me?" She holds out the bottle for the taking.

Betha comes walking back in, "Wow, that sure was something, a good sized
clutch." Ok so she's not the proud mate of a gold dragon. "Now, let's see,
where was I.." She sighs, oh forget it, the klah mood is gone.

Eyochai pounces gleefully on the bottle, leaving that brownrider alone. "It
might still be good. Can I have some?" She'll even help open, too, waving her
idle hands willingly. "I'll help open." She waves to Betha. "Good clutch,
yeah..."

Mroncae has arrived.
Eyochai drops Mroncae.
Mroncae goes ::between::

Mikani shakes her head, fishing the corkscrew from her pocket. "Um, hey. If
you want the wine to be /opened/, it really might help if you gave it to the
person who's holding the corkscrew?"

Dallaney takes the basket without further ado, tries to put a few into her
mouth, and remembers to subsist in time. She grabs a plate, offering the
pastries to the next in line. "Thanks," she bites off a word, a pastry.
Question goes to Ulerae, through another bite: "Hey, you don't know Raghin,
do you? The messenger, not the drudge."

Aha. Corkscrew. "Good point," Chai relents meekly.

Megami rolls her eyes, handing the skin over to Mikani. "Sure, dear. Just get
me some wine. I'm...emotionally drained." That's a fair excuse.

Ulerae has her own, neat, hoarded pile of variously flavoured pasteries,
bumble-bee'ing neatly through the meal-crowd to claim a corner of a table.
Called back to Dallaney: "Raghin? Only vaguely. Met him once or twice, I
think." An affirming nod follows.

With a chuckle, Mikani takes the 'skin of wine and the corkscrew over to the
nearest table. "Some glasses might be nice," she calls over her shoulder.
Carefully, she peels the thin metal seal from around the mouth of the 'skin,
and then, using the edge of the table for leverage, she inserts the corkscrew
and begins to turn in slowly, ever so carefully. "Hmmm, cork's not too dry;
that's a good sign." Halfway in now, and small crumbles of cork begin falling
onto the table.

Caliban wakes up from his nap.

Eyochai trots hastily kitchen-wards for glasses. "Be right back!" she hollars,
heedless of anyone who, dear Faranth, might just be trying to nurse headaches
or something.

Betha walks over to retrieve some klah then goes and finds herself a place to
sit, a sort of palace of solitude.

Dallaney meets affirmation with beady-eyed denial, but she follows indeed,
wading through clumps of people to that table. "Raggie," she murmurs under
her breath. More loudly, for Ulerae's ears, she goes on in her own artless
fashion. "Where is he now?" The plate goes here, the chair goes here.
Right.

Mikani turns her head, to blot the sweat that's beaded on her brow onto the
shoulder of her tunic. Tricky work, this, trying to get the cork form the
'skin without it totally crumbling and falling into the wineskin. 3/4ths of
the way, and she grunts suddenly. "Towel. I need a towel NOW," she snaps. A
drudge bustles over and hands the assistant cook a towel, and Mikini takes it
with a grin. "Thanks." Wrapping the towel about her hand, she twists the
corkscrew in.. deeper.. deeper..deeper. When she finally has it seatedfirmly
into the cork, she gently begins to rock the corkscrew back and forth,
working it up and out. It exits the mouth of the 'skin with a small ~pop~,
and Mikani raises it to her nose and sniffs delicately. "Fruity, with an
overtone of melons, and nuts. It hasn't gone over, and if my nose is right,
it's a white."

Ulerae blinks placidly at Dallaney, twisting slightly to let a 'rider by
before answering puzzledly, "Now? I'm not sure.. where'd you last see him?"

Creiana has disconnected.

Eyochai hears that, as she skitters in from the kitchens. "Really?" Yay!
"Gimme some." She leaves the other two glasses on the table, and waves her s
Mikani-wards.

Megami blinks, snapping for a drudge to bring her a glass. "Oh, really? That's
all nice and all, dear, but the details can wait. I've been through a
very...erm, traumatizing experience. Or something." Wineglass is held
outwards. "Pour. Now."

Eyochai squints at Megami. "Trauma? What trauma?"

"Galleries, with that other guy. Don't know his name." Dallan replies, an
innocuous smile straining her lips. "We were supposed to do something for
him. But the clutching's more important." Gaze lurks from beneath the dark
forehead--she'll just study the other's response while chewing.

Mikani sets the cork and 'screw on the table, and reaches for one of the
glasses. "Yeah, right." she snorts at Megami, but she fills the woman's glass
anyways. Then Eyochai's. Then hers. Peering around, she turns and spies Batha
sitting off by herself. "Hey, Betha? Would you like a glass of wine?"

"Like what?" Ulerae's query is innocent, poking at an orangefruit-centered
pastery before biting in with gusto.

Megami snorts, and rolls her eyes. "It's an...expression. Or something."
Shrugging, she sips at her wine. "Yes. Tasty." Sip, sip, and she then licks
her lips. "Just what I needed..after seeing - what, eighteen? - eggs hatch
continously." She rolls her eyes again, but remains to sipping her wine.

Betha ponders for a moment, "Mmm, maybe wine later."

Klinaeri has connected.

Innocence is good. Dallaney gives it up nevertheless; the smile makes haste
to vanish. "A writing exercise. Another one. Advanced." She slinks her
head behind another's forgotten glass.

Klinaeri has disconnected.

Eyochai rolls her eyes -- just to match Megami, of course -- and wonders over
her wine; "What's so bad about the eggs?" She drinks. "Mmm. Not bad. Thanks,
Mikani."

Caliban dozes off...

Mikani smiles at Betha. "Well, I can't vouch that there will be any left
later.. it seems to be a 'speak now or forever hold your peace' type of deal."

Betha shakes her head, "Oh, I'm fine, but thanks for the offer."

Megami shrugs. "Nothing's bad. Just overwhleming, or some big word like that."
Harper shrugs again, then takes a long sip of her wine. "This is pretty good,
you know."

"Huh." Ulerae regards Dallaney with a squinty-eyed look for a moment, then
shrugs slightly and takes another bite out of her pastery. "What'd you have
to write about?"

Eyochai loses interest in the conversation, and slinks out with her wine. She
thought she left Noggy somewhere nearby...
Eyochai skulks toward NorthWest Bowl.

Lah'i huffs in from NorthWest Bowl.
M'iah has arrived.
M'iah arrives.

Dallaney lengthens her face into a grosteque frown. "Advanced copying," she
reiterates, waving a spread palm. "Bad stuff. Heida didn't want to do it
too, so--" Her sly look speaks for itself. "Don't tell."

Betha for the most part is sitting on a table and not in a chair, elbow rested
upon one leg with chin rested on propped up hand. Although she doesn't look
bored, she just looks something.

M'iah bubmles in happily, craving something sweet. See, she has to eat for two
now, and so she can eat lots of extras and she'll never gain weight.
Glittering blue orbs look from the main bustle of the caverns to the serving
table where she goes. Food. Yes. Nummy. "Is there any cheese?" Greenrider
inquires loudly.

Ulerae's lips twitch slightly, in amusement. "I see." M'iah gets a glance, and
a lightly called, "Try over by the breads?" before Igenite turns back to the
conversation. "What's so bad about advanced copying?" Curiousity, merely.

Mikani smiles and waves as M'aih enters. She corks the 'skin of wine (wouldn't
want to spill any now), and gestures towards the long wooden table. "Yes,
M'aih, there's sliced fresh cheese over by the basket of napkins."

Megami sips her wine, still slowly, eyes moving across the various new
entrants and so. "Cheese? Faranth forbid." Mikani's comment receives a wince,
however. "Nevermind what I said." harper now sighs, takes another sip, and
continues to scan area for anything at least somewhat mildly entertaining.

Lah'i follows M'iah, eyes sparkling as she considers the greenrider's
movements - and conveniently forgets how /she/ acted during her pregnancy.
"Cheese, eh? I personally prefer tapioca pudding. Here. M'iah? Sit down."
Nabbing a chair or two, she points toward one of them."

Dallaney yawns, amazed brows trying to squirm into themselves, and perhaps
disappear. She returns, behind her cupped palm, "Because of all the words.
They just go into each other and get so messy. Raggie never approved of it.
Don't know why." Shoulders lift a little, dismissively.

What sweat words does Betha's ears hear? But a voice so, so...soo belonging
to her mate, yet it seems that she is in need of confirmation. Green orbs
look slowly over the cavern, but before they even spy M'iah, her own ears
hear her mate's name, that as well as beautiful music. Crimson lips part
into a loving smile, "M'iah!" A hand, a woman's hand waves, "Oh, M'iah!"
None to loud, should she frighten her mate away, just enough to catch her
attention.

Eyochai skulks in from NorthWest Bowl.

"Ah." Ulerae nods sagely, placidly finishing off her orangefruit pastery and
starting in on another. Question rises, curiously while headwomanlet nibbles
on her food: "Is it hard being a messenger?"

M'iah drops her shoulders as she turns to face Lah'i, "But /Lah'i/..." Ears
perk as she hears a certain cook's voice, "Heylo there." Greenrider says,
staring at her and then making her way closer, "Will you make those cheesy
grape rolls for me, again?" She's craving something sweet, and they're just
perfect. She straitens out her posture, eyes surveying until she meets her
weyrmate's eyes, "Hullo there, Betha dear!" Comes the call, before taking a
seat on one of the brownrider's offered chairs. "Y'know, I should be making
my own food instead of finding a cook to do it."

Eyochai slinks back relatively soon after her departure, this time with nice,
meek Noggy on her arm. Cute guy, but obviously not much going on upstairs.
"You can see the eggs later," she tells him firmly. "I need you here." Good
boytoy. Stay.

"Not hard at all," Dallan fields, defensiveness creeping into the straightened
posture. She slumps momentarily over the glass; starts to chew sideways on
the bread she's holding. Left to right, then inwards on the crust. "Have to
walk a lot, and I get to ride runners too. Hey, maybe I could work under you
sometime, when I'm not a junior any more."

Megami gives a faint wave to Eyochai...at least it's a distraction. Stiffling
another yawn, Megami stands and moves for a snack, along with a wine refill.
She drinks that fast, really. Not one for relaxing and sipping and making
your goblet last for the next century or so. A few meatrolls are picked out,
a few select handed over to the three firelizards along her shoulders. To
M'iah, she finaly comments: "But, that is what cooks are for, nay?"

Betha perks up, "Hey," she slides to her feet and walks, no saunters over to
M'iah, "If there is anything special you would like to have, let me know
love, I would surely prepare it for you."

Mikani finishes the darkly amber aged wine, and makes her way over towards
that long table. "Sure thing, M'iah." She gathers a couple of rolls, spreads
soft cheese on them and studs the tops with fresh grapes. On oneof the rolls,
she also placesa thick slice of redfruit before plcaing the rolls on a plate.
Making her way slowly across the cavern, she sets the plate in front of
M'iah. "Here ye go!"

M'iah smiles brightly, "Oh, it's alright, love... Mikani introduced me to
them... And, lookit her, isn't she just wonderful?" Eyes move to the cook,
"Awww, thank you so much, dearie." A wink is given in that direction, hands
going immediately to the plate where she takes one of the rolls in her
fingers and forces a piece into her mouth. She giggles softly while chewing,
"This is sooo delish." Greenrider seems to be in an odd mood today, if
nothing else, at least she's past her: Kill-Everything-In-Sight stage...

Ulerae's head bobs affirmatively, lips twitching into a half-beam. "Sure! I'd
be happy for the help." Head tilts slightly, coffee curls boing'ing lightly.
"How long does it take, on average, to work your way through the ranks?"

"Sit," repeats Lah'i, firmly. She doesn't make requests, nope. After fixing
herself some klah, she sits down next to M'iah and glances around.
"Candidates'll be pouring in soon, y'know. I don't know if I'm ready to
handle that again." Glancing at M'iah's belly, a silent resolution is
repeated: will not get pregnant again. Unfortunately, Lah'i's player isn't
going to let her keep it.

Ulerae just looked at you.

At least Eyochai never encountered M'iah in her Kill-Everything-In-Sight
stage. Or, at least, Eyochai never got too snippy. "That's weird," she
informs the greenrider.

Megami sips idly at wine, eyeing the plate being handed to M'iah. A finger is
reached towards Mikani in attempt to stop the cook. "Do tell - what is that
you just served her?" Megami pauses to sip wine, before adding, "I do think
I'm gaining pudge. Wouldn't mind any green, grassy, disgusting healthy food
of my own." Harper with flicks the cook away with her fingers. So how it
works with Megami.

Betha bobs her head then finds herself a place to sit. "This is your first,
isn't it?" She sweeps her hands down her form to flatten her leathers out a
bit, "Have the healers told you what to expect?"

Dallaney wobbles in her chair, a darker, smaller echo of Ulerae from over the
tabletop. "Oh, turns and turns," she declares in callous good humour,
working her way to the bread's softness at last. "Bakers must've known of
the clutching--" And in the earlier vein, "That's what they say, at least.
Do you," she swallows, "Want to be Headwoman one day?"

Ulerae's lips twitch again. "Maybe," is the offhand, shrugged answer. "Only if
the opportunity comes up." Nose wrinkles in amusement. "Idris does a fine job
as Headwoman, and I have plenty going on as her Assistant. Though it got a
little busier," she muses, "when Mhiram -- Mhi'm -- got Searched and
Impressed. Did you know her?"

M'iah falters for a few moments before answering her weyrmate, watching Lah'i
with an odd sort of glare. Yeah, you think you tell Miss. Pregnant M'iah what
to you... You'll learn eventually. "Uhm... Of course this is my first.. You
don't any kids running around me, now do you dear?" Woman smiles brightly,
tongue poking out of her mouth and twirling it about each of her fingers
carefully. "I am not weird. You are weird, Eyochai." Informs the greenrider
to Eyi-Eyi-Uh-Oh. "And, you know, you should be more careful. I got Alath
outside.. She'll gobble you up." Orbs turn to a different pair, Ulerae and
Dallaney, to whom she says, "Mhi'm.. Dear ol' Mhi'm and Maestoth.
Wonderful... They're just wonderful." Babblebabblebabble.

Megami has disconnected.

O offensive glass; Dallaney's elbow pushes, pushes it away, nudging the spare
man on her right. She earns a stare for her trouble, and a return of the
obstacle to her side of the table, where it shields her nose. "Sh--" She
returns to the conversation with greater determination. "Saw them 'round
here, yeah. That was a turn back, or two?" She's getting old, even.

Mikani smiles over at Megami. "It's called 'graperolls', and I really had
nothing to do with the creation of them. They were invented by Zahra, rider
of green Ztarzeth." Credit is given where it's due, of course. "You take soft
cheese, and spread it on a roll. Then you put grapes on it, or, if you like,
redfruit slices."

Aha. A challenge. Eyochai squints in mild amusement...bemusement...at M'iah.
"But at least I'm not pregnant," she points out gleefully. "And why should I
be afraid of Alath? She's not so big." Obviously, Chai hasn't seen Alath in a
while.

Avaly quietly hums to herself as she walks with a smile in from Lower Caverns.

Betha smirks, "Nooo, I don't, but then you aren't a nanny anymore, either. I
was just curious love. I, " fingers fidget, ", wasn't sure if I ever asked."
After that she just quiets down but does manage a seering glare to
(me)Eyochai.

"How has she been, M'iah? I'ven't seen her recently..." Ulerae's call carries,
hopefully, to the greenrider above the din. Dallaney gets a nod, cyan cerules
turning back to the messenger. "Yep. Right around then."

Mikani looks over at Eyochai. /She's/ seen Alath recently, and certainly
wouldn't relish having the green gollbe her up.. or even step on her foot,
for that matter. "Eyochai, you might want to be careful what you say. Alath's
not a weyrling.. she's a full grown dragon." That's all she can think; that
Eyo remembers a smaller version of the green than the one she saw at the lake
the other day.

M'iah shrugs to Ulerae, "I'm not sure... I haven't seen them in a while
m'self... Between here and crom and having to go the manual way, I don't have
much time for visiting m'self." Eyes are shot to Eyochai, fiery in their own
right, "I'll have you know that Alath is about the size of a very small blue,
one of the largest greens in the weyr!" She inhales deeply, grinning at
Mikani, "I named 'em, remember that. Yup. T'was the day of her flight, just
before hair got chopped up and then she flew back to Telgar with her glowly
green.

Eyochai's ego is currently the size of a brown dragon or more. "So?" she
wonders vaguely.

Avaly wanders out from the lower caverns, humming a small tune from one of her
apprentice's hides. She spots the group and waves at those she knows before
wincing slightly at another one of those odd conversations she's managed to
walk into lately. Ah well, over to the klah pots she goes.

Dallaney gives the middle-aged smith beside her a quelling glance, munching
carefully on her next bit of toast. Fortunately, he isn't looking in their
direction any more. "Couldn't see for all those heads at the clutching," she
offers to Ulerae, with reference to Mhi'm, and she kicks her feet beneath the
table, lifting her nose to a passing message-carrier.

Ulerae laughs slightly, responding, "Of course! So many people like to watch,"
before nose twitches again and she frowns down at her pastery. Which happens
to be gone. Drudge is beckoned, and drink ordered with a slight murmur.

Betha smiles softly then quietly gets to her feet, "Well, " she whispers to
nobody particular, "if you will all excuse me, Remorth calls."

Dallaney appends to Ulerae's order with bold address, sticking her head in
before the drudge can escape: "I'll have citron." Uh. "Please." She
wriggles her hand to dismiss the poor girl; glances briefly to the crumbs
gracing /her/ plate.

Eyochai has connected.

Mikani chuckles. "No, we can't forget that you gave them their catchy little
name, 'graperolls'. It beat my suggenstion of cheesygraperolls, which was
just way too long." Her brow furrows; seems like Eyochai actually /wants/
Alath to gobble her up. Swallowing, she looks up and waves as Betha makes her
leave.

Avaly finishes grabbing her mug of klah and a meatroll or two before she heads
over towards the small group, waving at Betha as she departs, "Hello
everyone."

Eyochai murmurs regrets at Betha's departure, but remains otherwise involved
in sending Noggy off to find her a meatroll. He's such a good puppy, you
see. "Hello," she says to Avaly.

M'iah gobbles up another roll and pushes herself, without much of a struggle,
to her feet. Greenrider whistles loudly and then shouts, "I'd like everyone's
attention! You all are welcome to join us outside to watch Alath eat
Eyochai!" She ushers everyone from their seats and motions outside, "Shall we
go watch?" Woman glances to her mate, "Awww, you're not staying, dear? This
is going to be really fun!"

Betha waves back then pauses, "Well, I'm heading that way love, certainly I'll
watch. This ought to be something."

The drudge bustles off amidst the still-talking crowd, and Ulerae twists to
regard Dallaney placidly. "So--" Pause. Igenite twists again, craning view
over shoulder and twitching her nose in restrained amusement. "Want to go
watch?" That, of course, to Dallaney.

Eyochai, on second thought, retrieves Noggy, and drags him with her on her way
out. She doesn't even need to be nudged. "This will be fun," she declares
boldly, looking just as nonchalant as she did the few seconds before Sh'lor
started kidnapping her. Oh, brother. "I betcha she blinks first."

Avaly raises a brow ever so slightly, "M'iah, why is Alath going to eat Chai?"
Yes as usual she wandered into a conversation in the middle, it's a gift the
harper seems to have.

Mikani shakes her head.. and leans over to whisper to Eyochai, "I told you to
watch it.. now you're gonna get drooled on.. just you wait and see." She
stands quickly and then makes her way over to the nighthearth where she grabs
a handful of meatrolls. If her friend's gonna get gobbled, at least let it be
on a full stomach. She pours a glass of wine from the forgotten skin on her
shoulder, and hands it to Eyochai. "Here.. in case it's your last."
Eyochai waves away Mikani's offer. "Hardly, Mikani. But thanks." She'll
remember to get threatened by a dragon next time she's looking for handouts
from the cook. Being eaten is better than kicking people, it seems.

Dallaney perks up, scraping the chair backwards. "--Did I hear that right?"
Eating is always an interesting occupation. "I'm going, if you're not," she
retorts to Ulerae, arcing a finger back to flick a crumb at the back of -his-
chair. It's irrevocable now, and she starts to steal off, inclining a nod to
the headwoman's assistant.

Mikani strolls in, hips gently swaying, toward NorthWest Bowl.

M'iah smiles happily at the response from the people of the caverns and she
motions, "Alright! Everyone outside! The eating will begin promptly in 5
minutes!" Sweet voice calls, devilish flames flickering in her eyes. "To the
bowl!"

Eyochai trots cheerily bowl-ward. She still bets Alath will blink first.
Eyochai skulks toward NorthWest Bowl.

Betha giggles then goes outside to join the others.
Betha walks toward NorthWest Bowl.

M'iah walks toward NorthWest Bowl.

Ulerae'll go along, if just to keep an eye on things. Because she's
responsible, right? The Headwomanlet trails after Dallaney.
Ulerae perambulates diffidantly toward NorthWest Bowl.

Avaly quietly hums to herself as she walks with a smile toward NorthWest Bowl.

Dallaney backtracks to hide behind Ulerae. Aha.

NorthWest Bowl

A shelter from the stronger desert winds that strike across much of the rest
of the bowl, the original founders of the weyr found the lee a suitable
location for the most active area of the weyr. A gaping stone awning
provides covered protection and suitable sunning space for the occupants of
the dragon infirmary. Shallow steps lead into a recessed entrance to the
guest weyr. A much smaller entrance leads to the living caverns.

Perched somewhere up high, you see Tembler and Rock.
Mikani, Eyochai, Betha, M'iah, Ulerae, and Avaly are here.
The following dragons are here: Loralith, Israeth, Dagath, Maestoth,
Xuxakeirth, Jazyth, Yinxiath, Xweth, Isavroth, Remorth, and Alath

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

Eyochai locates Alath, and drags Noggy in that direction. He's not a human
shield, mind you. He's just the object of her triumphant smooch once she
defeats the evil dragon of doom. Too bad she can't chain him to her leg. He's
looking rather uneasy.

Dallaney is not leading now--she's following in Ule's footsteps instead,
shadowed by shadow. Besides, it's safer out here. A look back to check that
no one's trailing /her/, and she emerges from the stone-clad weyr to intone
solemnly. "Didn't know dragons eat people."

Lah'i huffs in from Main Living Cavern.

Mikani looks from Alath (the green suddenly seems even larger than she did at
the lake) to Eyochai, and a lump forms suddenly in her throat. It looks like
the end for her friend. She lifts the glass of wine still carried with her,
and downs the contents in one gulp, eyes suddenly misting. The other hand
still holds meatrolls; which are soon transformed into a smooshed mess in her
hand. Sure, dragon's aren't /supposed/ to eat people... but there's always a
first time.

Avaly dashes on in after everyone, still not knowing what's going on but that
seems to be usual for her lately.

Lah'i, evidently having come back to life at the mention of eating, wanders
outside with the rest of the crowd, dragging along a good supply of meatrolls
as she leans against Isavroth's side with an amused expression.

Betha glances over to Remorth. Remorth glances over to Alath, then his rider
soon joins the watching. This ought to be good. "Ya gotta get her all wet
first, makes 'em easier to swallow."

"They don't," Ulerae tosses back with a grin. She's confident of this. "If
they did, we'd've heard about it before this. And Alath's not even proddy, I
don't think." Not that Ule keeps up on more than the minimum of gossip. But
she leads away, finally halting to one side.

M'iah watches as her weyrmate, as well as Lah'i come out from the caverns,
"Wait! We have /three/ dragons here are are availible to eat people!" She
ponders for a moment, "Betha, do you think that Remorth would be willing to
eat Eyochai?" Eyes narrow to slits as she looks at the gathered crowd.
"Hmmm... Two more people..."

The dashing figure catches Dallan's attention, and she turns back to look
Avaly over. She couldn't be the lanky man's companion, but-- the boyish kid
departs from Ulerae's side and the general spectacle for a moment. "Aren't
following me, are you?"

"Dunno, but I prob.." says Betha, then she's interupted by a blue tail
drapping over her head, "He might." The look on her face is prescious, to
bad his tail obstructs the view.

Eyochai eyes M'iah balefully. "Nooo. Alath is going to eat /me/. So I can
/win/." She's a bit more leery of Remorth. "This is /my/ showdown." Her
drama. No one's stealing her silver screen on this.

Avaly blinks a bit at Dallaney, "Hmmm?" She kind of wonders how she could be
following Dallaney if she got here first, ah well. She then turns her
attention back to the whole Chai eating event and again asks, "Why's Alath
eating Chai?"

Avaly
Long locks of honey-brown hair are let down to cascade past the harper's
shoulders, ending in slightly bouncy waves. Pale blue eyes take everything
in from under long lashes that caress her cheeks when she blinks. Skin is
pale with a hint of a sunkissed sheen to it. Lips are a wonderful rose color
and are often seen in song or just a small smile. Limbs are long and
slender, almost graceful. Her body is well toned as well as it should be
after chaseing around a troup of kidlets most of the time.
Tight and clingy are the two words the best describe what the young harper has
chosen to wear today. Deep brown wher-hide pants seem to be a second skin,
conforming to every curve of the slender legs that support Avaly. The top is
just as tight as the pants and has long sleeves that appear to be made out of
scraps of fabric in different shades of blue, infact that's how they were
made. The shirt has a low v-neck to it and a circlet of the deep hide can be
seen hugging Avaly's neck, with a small deep blue stone hanging from the
middle of it. On her feet are boots in the same color and material as the
pants and go up just a little way.
She wears the knot of a Harper Journeyman upon her shoulder.
She is awake and looks alert.
Carrying:
bottle of white wine

Isavroth peers curiously at M'iah, rumbling with amusement. But he's learned
that pregnant women can get a little...silly. However, there's a much more
interesting person in this crowd - aside from Lah'i, of course.

Ulerae snorts slightly, cyan pools flicking from blue to brown to green and
back to their riders, while lips twist in ill-suppressed amusement. "More
people?" That, murmured softly amidst a chuckle.

Lah'i just looked at you.

Hand continuing to tighten on the mess of meatroll, Mikani gulps again as
M'aih announces that since there's more dragons, more people can be eaten.
She backs up.. only to find the weyrwall at her back. No way out. She can
only hope that no dragon would find her tasty. Looking down, she notices that
her meatrolls are now quite a mess. THAT certainly might attract a dragon,
especially if it were hungry. Hastily, her hand opens, letting the mess fall
to the sand. Dexter cheeps in distress and flaps down to start gorging on the
remains.

Well, the Harper was behind Dallan at one time. Robe swishing about her
ankles, the messenger creeps slightly away, neck twisted back inconclusively
on Avaly. "You sure." Distraction's admitted: the noise of eating should be
sufficient to alert her.

Betha blinks, looking to Eyochia, "Well, if my dragon isn't good enough to eat
you then, pox to you. And when Alath does eat you, she'll go between and
bend a tail to rid herself of your unhealthy hide."

M'iah nods, smirking at Eyochai, "You're gonna get Remorth because.. I know
that he's much more lenient when it comes to pain... And Alath, well, she
just snaps you in two." Orbs continue to peer about for two more healthy
looking people for this dragon-eating. "Uhm... Lesse.. " Brows furrow
slightly as she nods, "Alath chooses Mikani..." A glance is sent to Savvy and
Lah'i, "I'll let you choose your victim."

Eyochai has offended the Great Betha? She looks immediately upset. "No she
won't. Because Alath isn't eating me. Remorth is." In other words...sorry?

Avaly turns to look at Dallaney again, once more raising a brow slightly. So
many things going on, confusing her all at once while she's only half awake.
She crosses her arms across her chest as she adopts a relaxed posture, one
foot slightly infront of the other one as she attempts to figure it all out.

Betha grins, "Well in that case dear, come on over, Remorth wants to slather
you all up. Easier to swallow."

Eyochai isn't /that/ apologetic. "No. He's not." But she's going to glare at
him until he gives up, see. She practices a bit. Glare.

"Eh...I'm not so sure Isa'd want to eat someone, he's really very - Savvy?"
Oops. Looks like Isavroth's already picked one out. Stepping back, Lah'i
watches - a little surprised - as Isavroth hobbles over to sniff at Dallaney.

Mikani draws in her breath and squeaks, "Me? Wh-what'd I /do/?" A fearful
glance is tossed Eyochai-wards, and since there's no place she can go, she
just looks over at Alath again, swallows again, and then, though her brain
screams that she's lost all sense, she steps forward. For the life of her,
she can't make her legs halt.

Ulerae goes home.

Tembler dozes off...

Confusion sits well with Dallan. She steps on, back to Ulerae, then pauses at
the whiff of some breath. Bad breath? Annoyance suffuses her swift turn.
"Huh?"

Alath wuffles Mikani in the face with a large poof of hot air as the cook
steps forward. Mmm, what a greeting. The green rumbles at the girl, whirling
orbs looking to her rider, M'iah giving a pleased smile. She doesn't say
anything, however, and the greenrdagon picks herself up and circles her large
body around the cook.

Avaly can't help but giggle at the sight before her. But that only causes her
head to start aching again, too much wine the other night. Doesn't stop her
giggling though, it is rather amusing afterall.

No, not bad breath. Spicy breath - sweet, hot, slightly musky, with the
faintest trace of ginger. Rumbling softly, again, he lowers his massive head
to sniff Dallaney some more. Trying not to giggle, Lah'i bounces up alongside
him. "He likes your clothing. He thinks you have excellent taste." This draws
out more giggles: this is the dragon that makes Lah wear That Dress (which is
the one she happens to have on now.)

Lah'i
Rebellious wisps of bittersweet rose squabble about a perfected ellipse of
creamy buttermilk, thrust unceremoniously from chunky ringlets of obnoxious
vermilion sunset. Midsummer's mellow breeze clouds innocent baby blue orbs,
serenity shattered by supercilious spatters of rose-dusted cinnamon and
brazenly spiced saffron; the blatant contradiction of sweet amiability in a
small, rounded nose and sugared carnation lips is easily overshadowed by the
stark brilliance of her eyes. Fervant obstinacy thrives in posture-perfect
shoulders and a stubborn chin, traceable throughout the haughty arrogance
barely subdued by oft-avoided maturity and near-nonexistent femininity
throughout an exceedingly petite frame, graced by none but a minute curve of
an excessively used hip.
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 and looks alert.
Subdued; won't touch food, and is currently pronouncing her name 'Lah
Apostrophe E.' Literally.

Betha and Remorth stand by, waiting to munch down. Mmmm.

Eyochai continues practicing her Glare-At-Remorth. Since he doesn't seem to be
doing anything, she might as well try to bug him. "He probably doesn't have
very sharp teeth," she opines.

Amusing it may be, but Mikani's heart is pounding; everyone can probably hear
it, as her pulse beats out doubletime, causing the vein at her neck to throb
back and forth. Her eyes slit shut as dragonbreath bathes her, smelling of
meat, and spice, and that slightly slupherous stench of firestone. She winces
at the rumble, which is /loud/ this close-up. She can feel the presence of
the dragon all around her, but there doesn't seem to be any teeth or drool...
yet. Slowly, leafgreen eyes open, only to roll towards her hairline as
Eyochai comments again. "Way to get eaten, Eyo."

Remorth inches his head towards Eyochai, his dwaggy breath begins to wash
about the woman, mouth opening slowly to reveal a toothy grin. Wanna bet.
Oooh, is that the hoof of a recently snacked on beast in his mouth?

Dallaney stares, lifting a fold of her robe to mull over. "This is a good
robe," she agrees, since she's asking. "But these sandals aren't the best."
A look at the speaker, and she recoils with a smirk. "You'd never make me
wear one of yours, that's for sure."

Lah'i is grinning, ear-to-ear. As a matter of fact, she looks a bit...woozy.
Hic. Did Lah'i have some wine this evening? "He thinks it's just
perfect...doesn't show anything...it's his /favorite/ color, brown...oh,
this?" Giggle. "He picked this out. I only wear it 'cause he wants me to."
Here, the 'rider leans against her dragon...and slides to a seated position.
In the middle of the bowl. Savvy, however, starts to rumble more loudly,
lifting his massive head to look down at Dallaney from full height (which is
pretty high up). "Er, M'iah? How does a dragon go about eating someone...?"

Eyochai just bets that beast had a big mouth, too. She continues that
semi-glare. "You should brush your teeth," she tells Remorth.

Megami walks in from Main Living Cavern.

The oversized green, known as Alath continues to circle Mikani, stalking her
and watching her every move. Alath croons this time, fiery eyes looking at
her rider again. "Alath thinks you smell good... and that what wants to eat
you." The corners of her mouth tugged up in a smile. Glance goes to Lah'i,
where she replies with a shrug, "They open their mouth /really/ big and then
chomp down?"

Betha rolls her eyes, "Dragons don't brush their teeth." Remorth coughs up
the hoof, *ptoo-ey* He looks at his next meal. His rider laughs. "He says
you look to stringy to eat."

Dallaney isn't so sure about Savvy's taste, then. The youngster shakes her
head, hard, rolling her eyes up, /up/ at the dragon. "He can stand there all
he wants. Just don't eat me, okay, Rider?" She wasn't paying attention to
the three-people bit.

"Good," Eyochai declares firmly. "Not that he would've eaten me anyway,
though." She's too immortal, you see. She watches Alath's antics jealously.
/She/ wouldn't be so quiet if /she/ were Mikani.

Megami slips in from the caverns, wine glass surprisingly not with her.
Somehow, someone must've been able to find a good enough crowbar to pry it
from her hands. Certain familiar faces among the bowl receive various sorts
of winks or waves, depending overall on the gender, really. Or not so.
"Hello, all. Nice day." Or evening.

Avaly spots Meg and waves her over, "Apparently we're about to witness three
people being eaten by dragons. Least that's what I've managed to glean from
the conversations."

Betha smirks, "It wouldn't be right, dragons eating folks anyway. What sort
of dragon would do that anyways? Not one in his/her right mind that's for
certain."

Eyochai corrects, with faint hauteur; "Only two. No one's ever going to eat
/me/."

You overhear Betha mutter "If ... ... weyrmated to the ... M'iah, I ..." to
Eyochai.

Mikani holds up her hand, which is just coated with ground-up meatroll. "She
probably smells the meatroll. I sort of squashed it. And I guess I smell so
good because I deal with food all day. Maybe I can cut a deal? I can cook for
you, Alath?" She isn't too sure whether a dragon would eat cooked food or
not, but hey, she can offer.

Megami doesn't ask. Yet. Finger points at Eyochai. "She'll be a boney one,
beware. Probably make you hurl within the minute or two after you digest
'er." So Megami has come to believe. Avaly is stood by, though. "I doubt
they'll get away with eating us live. We're squirmy." All too true.

Eyochai grins madly at the bluerider, blushing along her ears and cheeks
before she quenches it in a shift of attention. Like, let's watch two people
get eaten. Or even better. Let's yell at Megami. "Ha!" she says cheerily.
"Betha already said that." Words will never hurt me...

Remorth's mouth begins to loom over Eyochai, drool hanging menacing from his
mouth.

Isavroth shakes his head, still looking at the object of sudden interest as if
unable to decide what to do. "He won't eat you. He'd spoil your dress." No,
his taste doesn't have much credit to it, but. Savvy lowers his head again,
looking satisfied: problem solved. A massive claw is lifted, flexed, and set
down on top of Dallaney - talons just long enough to form a cage without
touching the girl. Crooning, Lah'i has to be nudged before she notices.
Squeak.

Eyochai doesn't mind drool. It's the breath she minds. So she ignores Remorth
for the moment.

Mikani's head swivels from the Presence of Alath to regard Megami. "So we
squirm. You think a wherry doesn't squirm?"

Avaly continues to try to keep herself from giggling at the whole scene,
especially when Dalla's trapped under a claw. But she does not at Chai,
"We'll soon see if you're eaten or not I do believe."

Megami stops dead in her tracks. Unless, of course, in the event she's already
stopped, which she has. "Well, I'm sure it was different...somehow." There's
a fake smile at that, and hand goes up to immediately bat Avaly away from her
- somewhat idly, and then turns to Mikani. "But when we eat the wherry, it's
dead. Dragons don't have the opposable thumbs to cook and prepare us with."
Fake smile. As is should be nothing new by now.

Dallaney fairly bristles with indignation. "It's not a dress," she's saying,
hands rising to ruffle her curls, to give more chaos to the already
formidable mess. "I'd /never/ wear one--" And she's looking at the draconic
head, so the talons don't escape notice. Even quick reflexes can't save her
from doom when it strucks, though, and she ducks -- only to brush against the
improvised cage. Silence descends on the lithe figure; she just gapes there.

Xuxakeirth twitches a few times, minutely, before eyelids slide back and she
carefully, gracefully-- daintily-- unwraps shadow-touched limbs and rises.

M'iah didn't even have to ask nicely... Mikani just offered to cook for her! A
bright smile comes over the greenrider as she gives a satisfied nod. Alath,
meanwhile, plops /directly/ in front of Mikani, absructing herview from
anything and everything else. She sits tall, watching her little being.
Another overwhelming puff of hot air is spent on Mikani's head. M'iah,
unaware of what to do, advances slowly toward the cook and her large
lifemate, "Apparantly, Mikani..." She gives a long and drawed out pause,
"Alath feels you'd be the perfect candidate to stand for Sthe upcoming
hatching of Sayurith and Sanath's clutch."

Eyochai looks immediately happier. "Aha. I knew there was a reason why I liked
Remorth better. Condolances, Mikani. Hope you don't Impress, and get chained
to this place /forever/." Some friend.

Avaly finally looses herself in the giggles though one hand does move to her
head to try and ease the pounding there. After a moment or two she manages
to quiet herself and says, "Congrats Mika."

Betha giggles, "Count yourself lucky Eyochai." Remorth looks like he's about
to put a big ol' wet smooch on the woman. His rider smiles, "Yes,
congratulations."

All the heat from Alath's breath is starting to make Mikani's hair curl even
more than it already is. She barely has time to say to Megami, "Dragons eat
their food /raw/," when Alath implants herself in front of her. She looks
upupup at the green, and swallows. The blood must be rushing to her head,
impairing her thought processes.. she thought she heard M'iah tell her that
Alath wanted her to be a candidate for the eggs that were just laid. "Stand?
Me? Um.. yes?" Not sure if that's the right way to go about it, nevertheless
she's agreed to Stand. Suddenly, at all the offers of congratulations, her
head swims and she drops to the ground in a dead faint.

Isavroth looks immensely pleased with himself - until Lah'i notices that
Mikani's just been searched. Pft. OutSearch /him/, will ya? Bugling - loudly
- he uses his other talon to shove Lah'i in Dallan's direction, impatiently.
"All right, then. But - /what/? Oh, I'm sure - no, you're just as - oh. Er,
miss? Would you mind Standing for Sayurith and Sanath's clutch? (Please?)"
Gloat goes the brown. Hah.

"Another Ninny bites the dust," Eyochai theorizes grimly, watching Mikani's
faint with some disappointment. "Pity. I thought she was rather nice." And
Dallaney is just grunted at. Something akin to her previous speech to Mikani.

Megami's eyes tilt as does Mikani. "Oh. Well. Pity that. She's...fainted." If
that's the right word. "Well, I'm not pulling her back." Eyes land on M'iah,
or more particularly, Alath. "You made her do it, I vote you take her."
There's a little pause there, Megami eyeing Mikani's limp body on the ground
of the bowl, and then she just steps back. "Well. Could be worse. She's not
dead, is she?"

A small cough emits beneath the talons as Dallan finds her voice. "You, ah,
Mik." She hears, she does. "But 'Croth, he--" Lah'i's stutter is catching.
"I," she breathes again. "Well, only if you call me by my real name." She
crosses her arms, standing stiffly upright.

Alath watches as /her/ candidate drops to the ground. The dragon lowers her
large head, staring at the candidate. M'iah sighs, "I never fainted when I
got searched and now... Err..." She kneels besides the girl, watching her
carefully, "Ugh.. People have to be so terribly difficult!" Eyes glance up to
Betha, "Dear, will you come and help? My dear friend, Candidate Mikani, has
decided to faint."

Betha just laughs. "Remorth, you can go lay down, now." Remorth snorts a
snotty snort and goes and lays down. Ha, that will teach that stringy person
to tease me. I hope I got her.

Betha smiles and offers her assistance to M'iah, "Sure dear." She joins her
mate's side, "I get the feet."

Avaly smiles and decides that now would be a good time to slip off quietly so
she can get some work done. And that's just what she does too.

Lah'i is caught. Um. "Your real name?" After a few moments of thoughts, she
surveys the position that the girl is in. "You can either tell me what your
name is or stand there until Isavroth gets hungry again." For he hasn't
budged.

Avaly goes home.

Mikani isn't dead.. all one has to do it watch the rise and fall of her chest
to know thta the assistant cook is still among the living.

"Dallan," the messenger says with all due dignity, knuckles white where her
nails bite. D'aad will /not/ be pleased.

M'iah nods to her weyrmate, "To the candidate barracks... There wasn't any big
fall on her head so she should be fine... Thissaway!"

M'iah walks toward Center Bowl Area.

The claws are duly lifted, and the girl is sniffed affectionately, before the
huge brown backs off the survey the rest of the scene. Did Eyo get eaten yet?
Lah'i nods, relieved, and turns to follow M'iah, calling out, "All right,
Dallan, assuming that you've answered yes, come along. I'll get you set up."

Lah'i huffs toward Center Bowl Area.

Dallaney follows, dumb.

Center Bowl Area

Open air but allows for more heat to envelope each form in the usually fairly
busy section of the bowl's center area that greets eye eyes of those coming
through the west entrance. Lifting wings to flight and shooting past during
landings are two of the most common activites for the Weyr's draconic
residents. To each side, evidence of the Weyr's true volanic nature can be
seen: rough edges reaching skyward in sand-blasted fingers of spires that
scrape the underbelly of the sky. The living cavern area can be seen towards
the northwest and the hatching sands are evident due east, accessible through
the northeast or southeast sections of the bowl. To the south, the glitter
and glimmer that is the lake becons forth to offer cool respite.

It is a clear, crisp evening It is a winter evening.
Perched somewhere up high, you see Bromie, Lime, and Culpa.
You see Naavath here.
M'iah and Lah'i are here.
The following dragons are here: Halaith, Lirith, Kaeth, and Paenth
From here you can go:
Lake Candidate Barracks Weyr Entrance
Hatching Grounds Main Caverns
Weyrling Grounds Feeding Grounds

Lah'i huffs toward Northeastern Bowl.

Northeastern Bowl

Sun-baked sand has scoured everything smooth; heat has been unleashed to full
throttle during the day with little respite. The only shade comes from the
tall sides of the hollowed volcano walls that the sand has beaten against to
form interesting patterns. Even in the cooler nights the heat from the
hatching grounds can be felt. From here you can see the living cavern in the
northwestern area of the bowl that is past the central bowl, glintings of the
south-bound lake and even catch glimpse of the feedings grounds over in the
southwest.
A plateau rises just to the north and the entrances to the weyrleaders' weyrs
can be glimpsed along with the sheen of metallic hide as occupants sun
themselves.
Perched somewhere up high, you see Nova.
You see NiftyNifty here.
Lah'i is here.
From here you can go:
Weyrling Area Hatching Grounds Candidate Tunnel
Ramp Up Center Bowl

Lah'i huffs toward Candidate Barracks.

Candidate Barracks

Stone platforms hewn from the volcanic rock line the perimeter of the room,
each one covered with a cot's mattress for young bones, and a few coverlets
according to choice. The bedstuffs appear to be sinking into the stone, the
platforms going gradually hollow from generations of anxious bodies resting
on them. The walls of the chamber are shot through with obsidian streaks from
long-ago volcanic activity that writhe over the surfaces like striations on
an egg. Natural darkness is lifted from the cavern with glowbaskets
everywhere that provide a cheerful light to welcome weary bodies to bed.

Perched somewhere up high, you see Pestilence.
You see a large basket, Clingy, and Kabamit's Cot here.
Lah'i is here.
From here you can go:
Bowl

Desdemona has arrived.

Dallaney appears to be examining the floor her sandals tread as she scampers
in on Lah'i's heels. Stone, stone, stone. "I need to get my things," she
adds to the early exchange, flipping back straggling lank hair from a dirty
face.

Lah'i points at a cot. "You get to sleep there until the Hatching." Leaning
down to fumble through a box, she produces a crisp white knot, twined with
Igen's maize and jet. "Wear that. And, uh, rules: don't get pregnant, don't
sleep with anyone, do your chores, be respectful of riders (they may ask you
do do things for them), report any mistreatment to someone of higher
authority, and don't leave the Weyr unless you're accompanied by the rider.
If I missed anything, you'll find out soon enough. Enjoy!" With that, Laih
stumbles off. A very oddly-acting Laih, note.

"Got it," Dallan puts in, taking the knot, looking at a cot. Right.

Lucky Dallan, eh? Whee.

Mikani strolls in, hips gently swaying, in from Northeastern Bowl.

Lucky, lucky Dallan. Who calls after Lah'i, just in case. "Don't trip over
your dress now." Not to be rude, of course.

M'iah walks in from Northeastern Bowl.

Congrats!! You've just been Searched and are now an official Candidate! *beam*

Dallaney
Gaunt, Dallan is, grown into a gawky adolescent sturdiness. A mass of
indifferent mahogany curls crisps defiantly from behind her ears, huddling to
straggle over sharp eyebrows that cap equally hazel eyes in a thin face. Her
nose is sharp, her chin well-defined; dark brown cheeks and lips naturally
pursed make her no pleasure to look upon. Uncertain growth has given the
slender limbs wiry strength, with a simple agility of motion, but she remains
shorter than most others her age.
A robe of light brown, barely feminine, covers most of her long-legged, spare
shape, sending any hints of figure into obscurity. Of Igen make but
self-styled, the linen material sheers ungracefully just above bony kneecaps,
hitched up in folds to allow easier wear and lighter travel. An ungainly, if
quaint, umber belt winds around her waist, binding cloth to flesh and holding
up the robe in ragged manner, keeping it dipping into the dark sandals that
flicker out far below its hem.
Higher than thou: one white cord sits defiantly on her shoulder.
She is awake and looks alert.
Grounded!

Back to Logs Page