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

(Nhaeth) Olexath sees: Nhaeth reaches out, trickle-soft, a blend of blues
clutching blinding reds. No words here, just soundless question, soundless
thought.

(Nhaeth) [-] Olexath responds with a single thought. << Hatching ... >>

(Nhaeth) Olexath sees: Nhaeth sees, he does, and subsides to extending
countless starry wishes for the two of you.

Dragon Infirmary

Against deep carvings of quartz in obsidion, perhaps the legacy of riders with
artistic energy kept cooped up too long recovering, dragon couches and
well-supported hammocks and cots rest as much distance apart as possible;
deep hollows in the cavern's walls and shallow bends allow some small privacy
to be given to their occupants, outlined by worn paths in the ground made by
endless rounds of healers to patients. Scents of herbs and potions lay
gently in the air, some pleasant and some sharp, aromatic accent to the
bright tapestry curtains which adorn the separate couches with their lively
scenes of health and daylight, encouragment to some occupants, irritation to
others!

Perched somewhere up high, you see Grapevine and Periwinkle.
Krash, Halis, Kayre, Kalaera, T'paz, Ailori, Saille, N'vis, and Sh'na are here.
The following dragons are here: Pequoth, Nhaeth, Olexath, Wyrth, Jaspyth, and
Miyusherath
From here you can go:
Bowl    Inner Infirmary    Dragonhealer's Office

Krash perks up, he loves playing with the babies the nanny's are in charge
of..the drool is so cute. He lifts his head to peer around, falling back with
a whine at his mother's instructions. "Aww..c'mon I'm big now.." Words
accompanied by a big grin and flex of the unaffected arm. "Healer Androo said
I will be fine once healed, I have to work out to make sure my arm doesn't
get uh..atroffittedyeah." He confirms with a little nod.

Ailori is watching unobstrusively from her corner of the room quietly and in a
rather anticipating stance as she wrings her hands together nervously. Err.
Hope this ends fine...she's beginning to get the feeling that she most likely
won't be having a baby much time soon...ahem. Though that's rather a given.

Siyana walks in from NorthWest Bowl.

Saille smiles comfortingly. a baby! yeah! and whats the the Midwife said? two?
twins! Saille steps closer. looking at Halis with adoringly violet eyes.
hopeing no one minds him being here.

T'paz relinquishes his cool-cloth duty, and moves to the other side of the
cot, offering his stone hardned hand for Halis to hold. "I've been down this
road before, Hal. We're here for you." He looks up and sees N'vis enter,
and grins. "Good timing, Wingleader." he says.

Fortunately, the infirmary's much emptier than it was yesterday. Emptier of
sick people, that is; one more bundle of germs peeks in the door, a mess of
crumpled curls slung past the threshold -- D'ney freezes there, hazel eyes
blinking to adjust to the light.

Jaspyth trums, and thrums. It fills the air with warmth and kindness. It
welcomes the hatchlings to come. Thrum thrum.

N'vis cocks an ear at his wingsecond's voice, and then a brow at the healer as
he approaches the foot of Halis' cot, not at all comfortable with the
situation. A hand reaches towards the heel of one of her boots, the other
grasping the toe, and with a slight pull... a cute foot is revealed. A
glance lifts to Kalaera as he grapples with the second boot, "A pillow?
Where the shards am I going get a... " Eyes shift just in time to catch a
glimpse of one being shoved his way, thanks to a helpful resident. Tucking
it beneath one arm, he slips the second boot free.

Kayre pat's Halis's arm softly, "It will be over before you know it." She adds
after Kalaera, before glanceing away. Well at least Kayre hopes it's over
before Halis knows it and before Halis rips her hand off or something. Nod is
given to N'vis as well as a warm smile before her attention goes back to Hal,
her ears filled with the thrumbing of Jaspyth as Miyusherath adds her own
high deep-throated thrumb the green watches all from her out of the way spot.

Nhaeth wasn't here before, but he is now, awkwardly slipping in with head
bowed beneath a neckload of stress. He arranges his bulk, wings tucked in to
avoid the other dragons, and watches keenly, eyes half-lidded, of layers
unlidded.

Halis would giggle at N'vis but instead clutches at T'paz's hand, not wanting
to hurt Kala or Kayre. Pazzy's a strong bronze rider, he can hack it.
Hearing the words of the midwife she blinks, "Wrong way? Bad?" Wonderful,
all grammar's been thrown out the window. Olexath moves his head closer to
get a better look, bumping into the midwife and those near her in the process.

Sh'na leans down with a sigh and kisses Krash on the forehead, "Don't you move
from this spot or you'll have to pay for your actions." She chides in a
motherly voice, winking and slipping from the boys bed toward the exit.
"Coming coming.." She murmurs out loud to her lifemate.

Sh'na goes home.

Krash has disconnected.

Ailori is tense and taut now, watching the birthing quietly from her corner of
the room and busying herself to lay out fresh clothes or anything else that
might be needed by the midwife and keeping quiet about her job...when in
doubt, manage to do something and keep yourself occupied.

The midwife surfaces. "Shards, girl, you've been feeling these contractions
for a while now. Yer fully dilated. We shall indeed be seeing a baby or two
here, tonight." She calls to the drudge, who brings up a small basin of
redwort. She baths her hands in it, again, and returns to the task of the
birthing. "No, not bad, Halis. Twins often wind up that way. Easier when
they're inside. Often when the first one pops out, the other does a
somersault and heads out head first as well. We'll see. We're ready for any
eventality here." She gently massages the agonized muscles as they ripple
and quiver. "remember, when you feel a contraction, short shallow breaths.
I'll count to ten, then it'll be over."

Nhaeth lets out a draconic squeak--no, make that a thrum-- He sees as well as
any other.

Halis nods at the midwife and asks, "When, should, push?" Body begins to
contract again and Halis breathes like the midwife asked her to, breaths
short and shallow.

T'paz feels his hand grasped, and holds her hand in both of his. He grins at
the power that only a woman in labour can exert. "Fully dilated? I remember
that part. Yer trying to push now, Hal?" he glances to the midwife for
confirmation of that one.

"Somersault?" Kalaera pales slightly, getting rather graphic images of babies
flying through the air from Halis' womb. Projectile birthing--uh, no. She
shudders slightly as her hand slides down to rest on Halis' arm. "Go ahead
and grip hun," Kala will just bite through her lip if she squeezes too hard.
She blinks and says "Here we go..." The clock is ticking: T-10 and counting
till Halis spawn!

D'ney, at the doorway, leans in further, a hand against the wall for support.
"/Why/ are there so many people here?" she hisses to someone, perhaps busy
Ailori at the corner, "Has there been another rash going around?" Better
here than there, when it comes to the crunch.

Siyana looks inside, quietly, having noticed all the people coming in here.

With a nod, and quick eyes, the older woman says, "Aye, push now...push,
push, 2, 3, 4, 5. We're halfway there. 6, 7, 8,....almost done...9, 10.
There you go. That was really good, mom. i'd say another one like that one,
and that'll do it." she keeps massaging the belly and crooning gentle
encouragements, yet eyes like a dragon, seeing every little muscle twitch...

Halis nods as she takes a few deep breaths, "Ok." Smile goes to Kayre before
she looks at the midwife again, "Think they want ..." Contraction time again.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10.

Ailori clutches her hands together nervously, eyeing Halis with fluttering
eyelids...it's getting closer to time for the young ones to come
out...wincing slightly and looking away nervously she bites her lip quickly
and reties her hair band to recapture stray tendrils.

Kayre blinks at the image and gives a little shake of her head at the sound of
D'ney's voice she raises her head and calls, "Halis is in labour." She states
quickly before her attention is drawn back by the counting midwife, realizing
it won't be long till little screaming Hallie babies will make their
exsistances known to the the entire weyr, She gives a warm smile towards
Halis as she adjusts the towel across her 'mates head. It moves alot don't it.

N'vis turns his gaze from the contracting woman on the cot and sidles around
her feet, offering the extra pillow to Kalaera with an outstretched arm,
"Here..." he says, voice a little low, the Wingleader obviously ill at ease.
Now maybe he can just fade into the background. He'll cheer from the stands,
and away from such words as 'fully dilated'.

T'paz holds Halis' hand firmly, not even caring whether she crushes his or
not. He survived Faelze's birth, he can do no less here. He glances up at
Jaspyth and grins. "You are a big softy, ya know that, Jas." he says,
affectionately. The intensity of this contraction, though...

D'ney inclines a nod at Siyana; it's difficult to avoid people when you're
trying to stand in the doorway. "I know," she mutters for Kayre's benefit,
softly enough to go unheard. Her hands scratch at the flaps of her collar,
scratch again.

Olexath moves back at a glance from his sparklie one, tail flicking to rest
atop Miyu's, his rather melodic voice blending in with the others.

Saille smiles...excitment in his belly, and he wasent even family! but still
the was a enjoyious, but suspenfull momment.

Kalaera winces slightly at Halis' expression as another contraction tears
through her poor belly. "Good, good...you're doing great, sis..." She's
practically breathing at the same, hefty pace as the bluerider, gaze offering
encouragement before turning to glance down -- and quickly glancing away.
That's just...ow. The word 'here' distracts her and draws her attention; she
gives N'vis a grateful smile and quick "Thanks" as she accepts the pillow.
Tuck tuck, she shimmies it beneath Halis' shoulder to prop her up. "There,
love...this should make things easier. Now breathe..."

The midwife does her counting again, but stops at 6 this time. "There we are,
mum. First babe is crowning here. One more big push and...." Then, with
startling swiftness, a tiny, wrinkly, gray creature appears in the midwife
hands. "And there we go." With the ease of many, many Turns of practice,
the midwive clears the little mouth, and wipes grayness from the little face.
Then, the lusty sound of a newborn's cry fills the Infirmary. "First one's a
boy, mum."

Jaspyth's thrum rises, and rises, reaching it's peak as the new hatchling is
born. His eyes are swirling bright blue, now mixed with greens.

Kayre scrunches her brows at Halis's expression as well, "Your doing just
fine, sweetling." Her attention is then drawn by the cry of the newborn, "Oh
a little boy.." She says brightly towards Halis, "Bet that was the kicker."
She adds to no one in perticular as her gaze stays on the newborn for the
moment.

(Nhaeth) Jaspyth telepathically projects <<Wonderfull. The newborn is strong.
Welcome to Igen, little one.>>

And the happy tears fall down from Halis' eyes, "A boy? He sounds like a
willful one." She sits up slightly to see the babe, "He'll be called Milis."
Olexath croons at the newborn before looking at Halis, "He wants to hold
him." She starts to say no to him but then frowns again at the next
contraction. Once it's past she nods at Kayre, "I bet." Gaze then goes to
the midwife, "Next one still upsidedown?"

"A boy," D'ney echoes out loud, from the doorway, then lowers her head,
fingers still clawing at her nape beneath leather. A smile shades her mouth,
before she cranes to note the progress of the second.

Miyusherath thrums rises along with the others as the new one is born she lets
out a happy croon to welcome the little one, eyes whirling like small jewels.

Kalaera's eyes widen as the grayed, wrinkly infant arrives, then voices his
complaints to the world. Quite loudly. "Hals!! You're a mum!!" The grin
that appears on her face would outshine Rukbat as she leans forward, placing
a gentle kiss on Halis' forehead. Kala laughs softly, glancing over at
Olexath. "No, not yet at least, Olexath." Alas, there /is/ still one more
to go, however. She turns back towards the midwife and nibbles on her lip
again, murmuring "Shards and shells --on the contrary, I'm wondering if
/this/ one is the kicker, Kayre."

Saille smile widens and his violet eyes travel over the little baby. "Oh!
Halis! his adorable!" he sighs softly in wounder. a boy! a little boy!

Nhaeth raises his eyes in wonderment, pinions stirring in place. Joy, oh joy.

T'paz hears the sound of the baby, and he has to fight the urge to cheer. His
grin is mingled with a few tears of joy for his friend. "There ya go. Milis
looks good, Hal, and what lungs!" he says, holding firmly to her hand. "Now,
let's get that second one out." He looks at the midwife for her answer to
Halis' inquiry

N'vis is slightly startled by the babe's cry, and cocks a glance over a
shoulder, spying the wrinkled creature in the midwife's arms. Ah, a boy.
Thank Faranth. He rocks back on his heals, repeating the newborn's name
mostly to himself, "Milis. Not bad. Not bad at all." And then a smile, "A
future SandStormer."

(Nhaeth) Olexath flits in with his usual greys, his deep rumble of a voice
echoing in the quiet << I'm a daddy! >> Well .. kind of.

(Nhaeth) Olexath sees: Nhaeth takes that quiet and filters it, warms it with
mirrored Igen sands. << Congratulations, >> his boom of a voice drums
through to yours, << He is wonderful. >> Life, and such a shoot too--

The midwife ties off the cord and cuts it deftly. She checks the little one
over carefully, before bundling him up. "You there," she says to Kayre.
"Come over here and hold this little one. I'm gonna need both hands for
this." she hands off the bundled and quieter newborn, and returns her
attentions to Halis. "Ok, now, where's that twin at..." she feels around,
and her brow creases a little. "...Hm..." She gently massages the dwindling
belly. "This'll be a little more complicated, mum. Twin's still wrong way
around. Whups..." She jumps, and reaches downwards, holding a little foot.
"Ok, then, little one. You want out, feet first, that's fine with us. Just
don't be in too much of a hurry here." She fiddles and fiddles, as the baby
appears, feet first....

Hold your breath now. D'ney bobs about, restless, outside.

Halis nods, asking, "Should I push?" She's rather worried, sitting up
slightly to try and see.

T'paz hears the play by play, and his brow furrows. He listens closely,
attentively.

Jaspyth's croon goes quiet again, sending that comforting song to the little
one again. Yet, at the emotions of his lifemate, his eyes go just a hint
yellowish...

Kayre blinks, "Me? Um..okie." With out another word the greenrider moves and
ends up with the little bundled newborn. Eyes look down at the little one
with wide eyes, grinning softly, "Why Hello there." She talks softly at the
news of the other comming out feet frist her attention turns to the mid-wife
and her weyrmate, rocking softly without thinking about it.

Kalaera blinks, and straightens, voice rising a bit with nervous anticipation.
"Complicated? /Complicated/? What do you mean /complicated/?" Her free hand
starts to wring a little with nervousness; this is Kala in rare form, yes
indeed. At the mention of feet first, she gasps a little and her eyes widen
into two huge jade saucers. "Feet /first/? That's not...normal..." This
time it's her own hand that grips a little around Halis' wrist. Her gaze
flickers from Kayre and Milis, to Halis, finally returning in a steeled gaze
to the midwife.

Saille swollows...worry setting into his eyes and biteing his lip. he looks at
Kalaera's face then her free hand...Takeing it. for her comfort as much as
his own. "It will be alright Halis, you hang in there." he coos

Miyusherath starts her song of thrumbing yet agian, it's sound as well as her
eyes taking on a worried note yet still she seem confident everything will be
fine, and if not she is going to have to make and expection by haveing
midwife for dinner.

The midwife hasn't got time to say much here. "No, mum, lie back. Our little
girl is almost here. One gentle push, and her head should pop right out
here...." She balances the flailing, slick newborns body handily, carefully
turning the body just so. "Now push, push, mum." And with an audible pop,
the baby is released. "And there you are, little one." she says, quickly
clearing mouth and nose here too. She works a little longer here, drying,
clearing, checking....

N'vis twists at the waist to eye the group behind him, a concerned glance
coming to rest on first Kalaera and then Halis, "Complicated?" he asks, not
of anyone in particular, and not nearly as frantic as the young woman next to
Halis's cot.

Halis smiles though still worried, "A girl? Is she ok?"

...Not nearly sounding as nervous as the young woman.

T'paz hears the announcement that it's a girl, yet holds back his elation.
Come on, little one, breathe, breathe. He watches as the midwife checks and
fiddles, not breathing himself...

Ailori decides now might be an opportune time to make her exit from the scene
of the birthing...she's always been a bit oddly squeamish about children
being born, or her vague ideas of it, as she's never actually seen a birthing
before. Quickly she offers a faint wave goodbye and ducks down the corridor
and out.

Ailori goes home.

Kalaera breathes an audible sigh of relief, followed by a "you did it
sis...fabulous jo--why isn't she crying?" Her eyes blink rapidly, focused
intently on the infant as the midwife cleans her off. "Why isn't she
crying??" Her hand wrings again before clinging to Saille's --most likely
squeezing it herself. "Shells, shells, shells..." Breathe, little
one...please...

D'ney mutters philosophically, "Better if she dies, better if she lives." A
swift glance inside, and she switches tack, musing to no one in particular,
"Better to live." Time has caught up with her, apparently.

Kayre holds Milis close as if afraid she would drop or break him, she sucks in
her breath as she waits for the sound of the newborn girl's crys, the
suspension marching through her head like a marching band, "Come on, cry."
She whispers softly to herself eyes entently locked on the midwife.

Then, after another infinitely long second, ....a tiny sputter, a tiny
gasp,....then a second, thin, shrill cry fills the Infirmary.

Saille lets out a breath he didnt know he was holding.

Halis smiles as she relaxes upon hearing the cry, commenting, "Don't you ever
scare me like that again young lady." Eyes close as she reaches up to move
the cloth over her eyes, saying softly, "Charis."

The midwife sighs and laughs in releif. "There's yer voice, little lady. You
had to make us wait for it, eh?" She ties off the cord, and cuts it deftly.
She bundles the second babe up, and rises, handing babe to Halis. "Mum, I'd
like you to meet your new childern." And with gentle ease, she sets the
bundle in her mother's arms.

Kalaera /is/ holding her breath --until finally, the infant wails a loud
protest to the cold, cruel world. "Shells, thank Faranth...thank /Faranth/,"
she whispers with unladen joy. Oh--what's that? Are her eyes actually
/glistening/ slightly? Wonders never cease, even as Kala blinks her eyes
rapidly to dispel any tears of joy that approach. "Charis - oh Hals,
congratulations" she murmurs, giving her sister's shoulder a gentle squeeze.
"You're a /mother/, Hals. And...I have a niece and a nephew!!"

Jaspyth looks down and thrums, then hears the cry of the little one. He lets
forth a quiet little bugle of joy, and rises on his haunches.

Scream. D'ney eyes the sight, forgetting to scratch. Then muscles creak into
place again, and she props herself against the wall, still apart, but flooded
with the ease -- born of relief -- that a few of the others also feel. Palm
flops against greasy hair, greased brows.

Kayre is slient for the longest of moments hen as the shrill cry fill the
infirmary she lets out a happy litte whoop then her eyes widen, she didn't
mean to do that honest. She lets out a relived giggle and makes her way from
where she is standing over to Halis, "Way to go, love." She states moveing
Milis over to meet his mum.

Nhaeth starts to fan his wings but recalls in time and settles for joining the
symphony with a croon all his own.

Halis moves the cloth from her eyes and sits up, arms held out to hold her
daughter, "They're lovely." Gaze goes to those in the room, "Aren't they
lovely? They are." She giggles at Kala and then glances at Kayre holding
Milis, "I can't wait till G'min's awake so Era can help him see them ..."
She's past caring who knows now. As Kayre hands her her son she makes room,
moving Charis over some.

Miyusherath lets out a long joyous croon at the sound of the little one. She
knew everything would be alright oh yes she did, tail is flicked wings are
fanned. Two new ones to the weyr. Happy Happy Joy Joy

Olexath moves his head in to whuffle mother and babies happily before rumbling
happily.

Saille whips his eyes "They are lovely Halis..." he looks on in wounder and
amzement. "You did a wouderful job!"

T'paz releases Halis's hand, as the crying newborn is handed upwards. His
grin is wide, and a few more happy tears stream down his face. "Well done,
Halis." he says, looking down at both little ones. He reaches over and
gently caresses one babe's tiny cheek, then the other's. "Welcome to Igen,
Milis and Charis." he says ever so gently. He pulls back, to allow the new
little family to get acquainted.

(Nhaeth) [*] Olexath lets his voice rush across the link, he can't help
himself, spicy excitable scents mingling with cool water. << Mine has
hatched two! They are called Charis and Milis. >> Beam, puff, glow.

(Nhaeth) [*] Jaspyth sends waves of happy cinnamon across the link. <<They
are both strong and healthy. Congradulations.>>

N'vis turns completely around now, managing to lift a small smile as the babe
is placed in her mother's arms. Arms cross to his chest, his stance relaxed
at the knees, as he merely watches the tender scene from a respectful
distance. His smile flickers at some communication from his lifemate, and
with a furrowed brow, he quietly and unobstrusively makes his way outside.
He'll have to congratulate his wingsecond later.

N'vis walks toward NorthWest Bowl.

Saille smiles then desides this this would be a good time to go. he steps over
and kiss's Halis's head "You did wounderfully...congrats. Your babys are
beautiful." then after a nod to all he leaves quietly

Saille goes home.

Grapevine goes ::between::
Periwinkle goes ::between::

Halis smiles at those in the room again, can't stop, "Thank you all for being
here." She winks at Saille and sits back, gently reaching to bop Milis on
the nose as he squirms, upsetting Charis, "I think these two need to have a
little nappy already. And I need some good strong klah."

D'ney lets people file by her, lets her lifemate communicate vague good
wishes, then departs after the others.

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 Pinot, Satler, and Bugaboo.
You see Rushweed Basket, Ierie, and Canyon here.
Isziyl, Kaaetlan, Kalaera, and Rylesi are here.

The current weather report:
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
IgenW: Center Bowl Area (#5491)
It is a clear, crisp evening It is a spring evening.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kalaera hides her face in her mug a moment as she sips quietly, inserting
appropriate nods as needed. "Guess I've just never bumped into you then.
Glad to have met you. Remind me, and I'll introduce you to Halis and the
little ones as soon as they're recovered, yes?" She flashes a quick wink
before addressing Isziyl with a quick wave of her hand. "Don't think too
much about it, Isz," she says pertly, as if reading his thoughts. "He's
alive, the babies are safe, Hals is okay. That's all that counts, no?"
D'ney's arrival earns the rider a quick grin and wave of her hand as she says
"Hey there!! Come, have a seat - bring a bottle of wine, too, yes?"
....and to Rylesi too. :)

What a fine Igen evening this is. D'ney escapes the slackening heat inside,
squirming into the caverns on the heels of a laden kitchen-worker -- of
course, she doesn't say anything of the pleasant sort -- save a "Hey," and
maybe a wave to that bluerider at the Duneraider's table. Kalaera she frowns
at, doubt stamped upon the dark face. "Wine--Me?"

D'ney
Igen-burnt, Igen-born, dusk shades her in, settling over shoulders broad in
comparison to her slight build and tanning arms a rusty brown. Vigilant
angles heighten the harsh peaks and abrupt gullies of her face, accenting
pinched features drawn by a miser's brush. Below forehead's darkness, a
primal acidity informs hazel eyes, capped by stubborn mahogany curls shorn
ragged at ear-level, but flaring freely, fiercely, into a rider's easy
agility and a controlled drawl.
Smooth, once-shiny hide covers her, a casement against high winds and
treacherous Falls. The original light brown material has been scuffed by
time and scarred by work, reducing the sheen of weaver-made wherryhide; the
leather itself is warmly lined, with a stiflingly high collar and a panel
that slants down the front, secured with tarnished pips to her shoulder.
Around her waist winds a broad, thick belt of wine-red, studded with small
rings. Long, thick sleeves disappear under slightly oversized gloves when
the latter are worn and flutter out extravagantly when they are not, a match
for the flamboyance of tan leather that reaches to mid-thigh, hiding dyed
hide trousers tucked into high boots.
Double cords of maize and jet intertwine in a single loop, trailing into a
tail; a brown ribbon plays accompaniment beside.
She is awake and looks alert.
Carrying:
Fredo
Joy mingles merrily with, tempering, itchiness.

Isziyl looks up, pensiveness crossing the lines of his face. "Yes, I suppose,
Kal... but it's often hard /not/ to think about it," he gently points out.
"But the babies are good and Halis is good, and Sh'na's on the rebound, so I
guess that everything's looking up?" A quiet nod at all the newcomers, and he
sips at his klah with new introspect on life in general. Yes, he's forever
growing up from the gangly boy of confusion that arrived at Igen only a turn
or so ago.

Isziyl
Tall, thin -- not thin, actually. Slim, perhaps; broad shoulders shrug off any
doubt about the decieving look of hollow slimness. Isz is, in fact, well
muscled... just not in the common sense; nay, his muscles are long, lean, and
toned from climbing instead of lifting objects. Deep-colored skin, typically
staying the color of fine scotch, well basted in healthy doses of Rukbat's
rays, bring out the highlighted dark hair, and unusually deep grey-green
eyes. Emeralds glitter in the background, whilest stormclouds rumble in the
fore of his occulars. Sand-colored streaks figure their way downwards in his
ebon-colored hair; down, literally, since his mane of thick darkness nearly
reaches mid-back, almost always wore back in a braid.
Black leather. Even in the heat of Igen, this young man will never really
discard black leathers - this time, the leather is paper-thin, and stretched
taut in the form of breeches and a sleeveless jerkin, showing off well-formed
muscles. But instead of boots, he wears.. uh.. wait. No shoes? How odd.
Isz appears to be in his late teens.
He is awake and looks alert.

Isziyl just looked at you.

Kaaetlan considers Kalaera a moment before the words sink in. Once they do,
Kaaet becomes animated once more, head bobbing slowly in initial reaction.
"Guess not. I'd be glad to meet Halis and her children, too, especially
having heard as much about them as I have." Well, in such short time. Silence
is gained again, and eyes dart to the new entrances to the caverns; no wave
is offered, but Kaaet takes a moment to give them a once-over before her
attention inexorably drifts back to the chitchat about the twins.

Kaaetlan
Raven dark hair falls in an admirable length, woven into fairly tight braids
which do nothing to hide the mostly healthy sheen and faint wave of texture;
it's dark enough, even, that it looks inky blue in the right light. Bangs
hang over richly tanned forehead, parting slightly over the point where her
eyebrows meet her nose. Almost almond-shaped eyes are a startling shade of
blue, more reminiscent of the rich summer sky than anything else, and they're
framed by thin eyebrows and thick, long eyelashes. Mouth is small, lips are
neither thin nor full, and the forming lines at her cheeks offers hints to
the common presence of many a smile. Petite, but not quite delicate looking,
she's lithe without being terribly under-muscled: evidence of an active
lifestyle play in the muscles of her arms and fairly long legs, in the
callouses at fingertips, and in the marks reminiscent of scars from various
mishaps.
Woven cloth the colour of the forest at dusk drapes over her shoulders,
skimming down arms and torso, folds clinging to her form. Edges are tucked
away into a pair of pants coloured a shade to match her hair, pure black, the
material not so much clinging as loosely wrapping around thighs and calves. A
vest of identical make to her legwear is left open, displaying the fine
fabric of the shirt beneath. A thin belt of braided leather and tarnished
silver buckles surrounds her slender waist, supporting nothing at the moment,
merely acting in decoration. Boots, calf-high, of heavy leather act more out
of decoration than functionality, the soles already showing wear while the
polish shows no such thing. Kaaetlan is wearing Silver and Jade Necklace
snugly about her throat.
She is awake, but has been staring off into space for 4 minutes.
A little hesitant, a little unsure, but still eager and willing to take what
comes, it's obvious that Kaaet, while not exactly properly acquainted with
her surroundings, is ready to fit herself in.

Kalaera eyerolls, fixing D'ney with an amused grin. "Yes. Wine, we don't
bite - and you were there when Halis gave birth, so you know why I'm
celebrating." She gives her brightest smile to the rider before her gaze
draws back to Isziyl with a startled expression. "Sh'na's bouncing back
from...what?" Curiousity exudes from that questoin. Huh. Shaking her head
a little, she gives Kaaetlan a soft laugh, then asks "What about you? Any
brothers or sisters to complain about?" She gives Rylesi a warm smile,
waving her over too. "Come on, join in!! We don't bite!!" Well, most.

Kalaera
Emerald irises ringed with jade smolder with an innate sultriness amidst the
delicate features of her face, their jeweled gaze framed by long, onyx
lashes. A petite nose, sculpted cheekbones, and full burgundy lips wear a
perpetual coquettish expression, complete with coy little smile. Chestnut
tresses drift lazily down her back, honey-kissed streaks quite prevalent
thanks to Rukbat's scorching rays. Her 5'4 figure is a combination of
skilled athleticism and pure sensuality, the curve of hips and bosom
seductively balanced by her trim waist and sleek thighs. Her skin is tanned
from her Turns of hunting outdoors, giving her an overall exotic look.
A wide, teal-green ribbon drapes across the nape of her neck, crossing over
fullness of breasts before hugging her ribs and tying mid-back to bare her
midriff. Beneath her belly button, a narrow waistband barely stays the
shifting of matching sisal shorts against her hips in delicate mid-thigh
folds. Brown leather sandals lace up Kal's calves to stop just below her
knees. A polished sliver of bright silver winks from her left ankle in the
form of a simple, yet eye-catching Silver Anklet.
Jet intertwines in an unending war with gold to gain possession of the knot
upon her shoulder, proving her a resident of Igen Weyr.
She is awake and looks alert.
Carrying:
Chianti
Her soft, alto voice trills out laughter on occasion, enhancing the sensual
energy that seems to abound around her mesmerizing persona.

Kalaera just looked at you.

Isziyl quietly eyes Kala. If she didn't know about how stressed Sh'na was,
then it isn't his position to tell her, he supposes. "Nothing," he replies,
tone half-idle, before perking up. "Wine?" Yes. Now he's interested.
Definately.

D'ney looks at Kalaera a moment, then her head snaps down; up again as old
habits jostle to the fore. "Never said you'd bite. Some relative of Halis'
aren't you?" she asks, then moves on, steering a course to the side where she
addresses a drudge, with some hand-waving back to the seated group. She'll
just let the orders be taken, now.

Kaaetlan chuckles absently to herself, murmuring something along the lines of
admiration for Kalaera for paying attention to everyone that walks in and
makes a comment. Hero-worshipping begins with innocent things like
observations, doesn't it? "I don't have any brothers or sisters, nope. I'm an
only child." So the logic goes. "I have lots of uncles and aunts, though.
They act like little kids sometimes." Ain't that the truth.

Rylesi has disconnected.

Kalaera suddenly finds herself with very heavy eyelids, adrenaline completely
drained out of her system and leaving her in a general state of utter
exhaustion. With a loud, feline's stretch, she blinks apologetically at the
group, blinking a moment. "I think...I'm going to get my arse to bed," she
quips, stifling a yawn behind a tanned hand. "Kaaetlan, it was a pleasure
and I'm /sure/ I'll see you 'round again." She fixes Isziyl with an odd
expression, shakes her head, and gives D'ney a quick half-wave on the way
out. Thus, she's gone.

Kalaera struts in that sexy way toward Lower Caverns.

Isziyl waves softly as Kala leaves, and eyes the two people left in the
caverns. Apparently, the young man isn't on good enough terms with his
self-esteem to actually strike up conversation -- it'll take someone else's
motivation to do that.

Kaaetlan watches Kalaera depart with a rather thoughtful expression. Once the
lady is out of sight, however, Kaaet turns her attention back to those
present, looking from one to another rather quickly. A faint smile is
offered, but she is nowhere near confident or self-assuming enough to try and
address either.

D'ney shuffles back to the tables, a wan light shrouding her gaze, though her
steps feign lightness for all that. A tray-carrier scurries after, gaining
on the wingrider as she goes. "There will do," goes the command, and down
they go, glasses clinking noisily. No conversation comes from this end just
yet, nor silence -- she waves a hand at the drinks, flaps it at the pair.
All theirs.

Isziyl eyes D'ney and Kaaetlan, and then bursts into combustive, quite random
laughter. He reaches forwards, snags a glass of what appears to be Tillek
White, and downs the goblet-full in a single, long draw. "Thank you," he
directs towards D'ney, with a deep incline of his chin.

Kaaetlan is nearly surprised out of her seat by the rather random burst of
laughter, but she recovers enough that she settles instead for an utterly
bewildered look. D'ney's offer is considered, but apparently not taken. A
slight nod is given to both the rider and the resident before the weyrbrat
gathers herself and her dozing firelizard friend up and darts out of the
caverns.

Kaaetlan calls Bugaboo closer.
Kaaetlan goes home.

D'ney recoils a little from the burst of laughter. Amusement, what's that?
"What's so funny?" she demands, only it emerges from someone with crinkled
lips and dirty hair. Un-authority, underscored.

Isziyl raises both eyebrows, and gestures around the 'caverns. "It's the first
time, for a full turn, that I've heard anywhere near silence in here. And
here we were, all staring at eachother, quite silent. Kind of amusing... if
you think that kind of amusement /is/ amusing." He gets confusing, fast. Just
smack him if he gets too confusing.

D'ney shakes a hank of curl away from her eyes. There. Now she can see, and
send a glare at Isziyl over the diagonal length of table separating them.
"It's quiet sometimes." And then she adds, "But not now." On cue, someone
snores from where he's lying over a plate of forgotten dinner. Monotonic:
"It's not funny."

Isziyl eyes D'ney, mirth still playing in emerald-touched, silver gaze.
"Quiet... sometimes? Hm." He shakes his head, eyeballs the snorer, and bursts
into more laughter - but more restrained, more of a loud chuckle than
anything. "Too funny," he murmurs, glancing up with a grin. "Why /isn't/ it
funny?"

D'ney obviously can't see the humour anywhere in this matter. Bewildered, she
blinks at Isziyl. Once, then again. "Silence is not funny. Jokes are,
people are. But not--" The fingers flap again; find their respite by
running nails along her right arm. "--Not this." A shrug, a tentative sip
at a glass, and a glare at it, too.

Isziyl shakes his head. "Silence /is/ funny," he argues. "If one is so used to
talk, to activity, to... well, to loudness, being suddenly thrust into a new
environment with the possibility of your old environment reinstating itself,
but it all hinges upon the balance of one's will in speach, and no one steps
up to the plate to venture out a comment for the sake of reinstating the
balance of loudness..." Pernese philosopher. Faranth save us all. "...it
could be contemplatively suggested that silence is the most hilarious thing,
given the situation."

D'ney tastes the drink. Tosses it back to down a quarter of the contents.
Which facilitates the blank stare she gives Isziyl, he with the fascinating
sentences and incomprehensible speech. "Great, great. So you think it's
funny." She's got that part down. As for the rest, a oh-so clever volley in
return: "But silence is /not/ funny." Cheers.

Isziyl stares at D'ney, and gives a wine-induced chortle. "You didn't
understand a word I said, did you?" He half-accuses this, snags another
drink, and begins to nurse it's contents down his gullet. "Okay. You walk,
naked, into a room. The six men you've wanted to seduce in the last six
months are all there, and they stare, silently. Now, when your archenemy
walked into the room, they all cheered, whistled, and generally made a
ruckus. Thusly, the silence that was generated by your arrival could be
derived as amusement by your enemy. Nasty amusement, but amusement anyhow."

"I did," D'ney claims, completely sober, "I just didn't...didn't know the
words." Now, these words she knows, at least; she starts scrabbling
frantically at that itchy neckline again. "I wouldn't do such a thing, you
know. I don't get proddy like the greenriders do," she says to the
braid-guy, patiently. "So I wouldn't walk in. /And/ I don't seduce people.
It won't happen."

Isziyl pauses, cants his head to a side, and stares. "Y'know, you're possibly
the hardest headed person I've ever talked to in my life." And this is meant
as a perfect compliment, one has to realise - it's delivered with the utmost
of respect. "But you can see how one could... find that situation amusing,
even if it /didn't/ happen to you?" He pauses, and scans her knot for a
moment, before reflecting. "Oh. I'm Isziyl." Braid-guy. Really. If he would
have known.. he would have burst out laughing. Funny, no? "Everyone calls me
Isz, though."

"I am?" D'ney sounds pleased, subsequent to the return of her frown, dark
eyebrows wriggling together like trundlebugs in a cave. "Maybe, but anyone
who finds it funny has something wrong with /his/ head--" Oh. Tact creeps
back with equal reluctance and strengthens the rough alto, "I mean, I don't
see how you can laugh at it, Isi -- Isi-what? Name's D'ney."

Isziyl snickers. "Oh, no, go ahead and insult my general lack of common
sense." He looks rueful. "Most people will agree with you, I'm sure." He
stares into the bottom of his glass mournfully. It's.. all gone. And it was
good Paradise Blend, too... "But, yes, yes, you're quite hard-headed." He
pauses. "Isizzzzzle," he slurs. Just for comic effect.

D'ney nods at Isziyl, because she doesn't know any better. Then makes a
marvellous effort at pronounciation. "Isizz--she--si." Spine sags just a
little into the seat, and the scratching motion resumes briefly. "I can't
say it," she complains in a voice that harks back to five turns back, "Do you
have a shorter name? Mine was Dallan." An example, just in case he doesn't
understand her supreme logic.

Isziyl blinks. "Isizzle. Not that hard." He coaches her for a few more
minutes, then sighs, shakes his head, and blinks. "Dallan was your shorter
name?" Blink. He sees the logic.. really. "Uh, you can call me Izz. Or
Izz-ill. It works." Beam.

D'ney latches on, with teeth. Short canid teeth, in point of fact, which she
bares happily now. "Izz. A good name." Another long drink later, she adds,
"I had this long name, before I Impressed Nhaeth, but everyone used to call
me Dallan. It was easier to say, shorter." And definitely easier on poor
D'ney herself.

Isziyl blinks. Whoa. She looks.. well. Dangerous? Yes. She's baring her
/teeth/ at him! Dear Faranth. "Izz. Very good name," he concurs. A pause.
"Ahh," he finally comments, pondering this. "Long name? Just how long?" He's
curious. Everyone is confused by his name. It'd be interesting to find
another person who has as insane of a name as his own.

D'ney glumly tells him, "Named me 'Dallaney'." She might wait for a response.
On the other hand, changing the topic seems more apt. Um. "Who came up with
/your/ name anyway?"

Isziyl blinks. "Dallaney?" His voice is instantly symapthetic - and slightly
envious. "It's such a.. rolling name," he tactfully adds on. Then, he pauses,
and blinks. "Who came up with mine? Um... it was a drawing. My da got drunk,
one night, and asked Sipk to take a drawing and pick a random one. Sipk liked
'Isziyl'. So, Isziyl I am." Now, if we can figure out who 'Sipk' is, the
conversation's doing fine...

It never is, where D'ney and letters are involved. "How could he get a name
from a drawing?" She doesn't doubt Izz's intelligence, but there's some
problem here, surely. The beetle-'brows dance, twitch, still. Somehow, she
doesn't get around to asking the obvious question.

Isziyl blinks. "A drawing. Like.. all the dragons pitched in what they thought
I should be named, Sipk rolled'm around in his mind, and picked a random one.
Like.. a drawing?" Twitch. Isz blinks at her, only half-sober about now.

D'ney, on her part, clings to her sobriety with all the tenacity of a bug.
Gah. "Dragons--name--rolled. Right." Her eyes are glazed discs of
concentration, distorted into oval blobs behind the lens of the raised glass.
"So you got named from a drawing."

Isziyl gives a patient nod. "I got my name from a drawing.. yes. What I've
been trying to say, all along." He refills his glass, and takes another
hearty swig. "And how did you get /your/ name?"

D'ney grunts, "Relations. I don't even know them. It's near enough to my
father's too." So much patience, just drifting around, filling their
glasses. "Izz," she restates, rolling it around with the mouthful of wine
that's just gone down.

Isziyl eyes D'ney for a long moment. "Yup, Izz. Isizzzzzle. Eeeeeseeeeel...
Izzill. So many pronuciations, so hard to say." Sip. Mmm. Wiiine. Now, he
hears many, many snores in the 'caverns. Bleary-eye. Blink. Sip.

"Isheeee," That's from D'ney, who is easing towards comatose but still
farther from it than Isziyl is. "You could change it. No one would know,
apart from the scribes." Yet something in there sounds wrong, too, and she
squints at the table thoughtfully.

Isziyl squints at D'ney, then... well. He thuds, quite literally, downing his
last gulp of that good Paradise blend. Oh, what a wimp. A wimp with decidedly
nice hair, but a wimp none the less. Snoring is heard from the floor,
slightly underneath the table.

Isziyl has disconnected.

D'ney drags herself off to the outside after a moment or so of staring at
nice-hair.

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