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.

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 Crusty.
Arah is here.
The following dragons are here: Dagath, Halaith, Rhyth, Tirelth, Kezasuth,
Elegath, Alath, Nhaeth, and Belluth
From here you can go:
Living Cavern      Infirmary       Center Bowl
Guest Weyr         Stairs Up       Weyr Entrance

The current weather report:
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IgenW: Center Bowl Area (#5491)
It is a clear, dark night. Belior is slightly less than one quarter full and
Timor is waxing to half full. It is a summer night.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Weyr bustles today -- or perhaps it is because D'ney stands at this spot,
near the caverns' opening. Nhaeth is flopped some ways out; the short rider
seems to be conversing with a thin wingrider. Her arms are folded, but
there's a smile on her face.

D'ney
Desert-born and -burnt, dusk shades her in, settling over shoulders broad in
comparison to her slight build and tanning lanky arms a rusty brown.
Vigilant angles heighten the harsh peaks and abrupt gullies on her face,
accenting pinched features drawn by a miser's brush; the same quirk of
bloodline informs the boyish figure, paring skin close against bone. 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.
Feather-light, a swash of light brown robes her, tucked in at the appropriate
places and bearing the Duneraider wingpatch at the lee of one shoulder. The
design is simple, conspicuous almost for its lack of one, and the result
clings drearily to point of shoulder, curve of arm, trailing down to her
kneecaps, there to be matched by a pair of cut-off sandals.
Double cords of maize and jet loop and intertwine, acquiring a wisp of brown
ribbon and a Wingsecond's tassle along the way.
She is awake and looks alert.
[21 Turns, 5 Months, and 7 Days]

Belluth moves silently behind Arah as they come into the bowl, the brown
picking up his massive feet carefully as if walking in stealth mode or maybe
it's just to keep from landing on his nose like he did all the time as a
weyrling. He pauses a ways out in one of the shadows of the bowl to keep out
of the traffic that normally comes through the area. The petite brownrider
smirks as she glances back to look at her dragon before readjusting the large
sack she is packing towards the Infirmary.

Nhaeth isn't moving. It's the safest way to prevent falls, you know. The
long brown snakes an indolent look at Belluth, then resumes his crouch,
muzzle dipping onto his paws. D'ney takes a similar glance at the lifemate,
raising a hand in simple greeting. The conversation is winding down, with
both sides nodding at each other.

Belluth doesn't know how to not move unless he is asleep. The beastly brown's
rudder of a tail twitching with idle taps is almost proof to the matter. A
gruff tenor of a rumble is given to Nheath as way of greeting as the brown
settles into crouch as well, wrapping his tail about him the end never
missing a tap. Arah pauses and set the bag down near the infirmary entrances
with a puff, running a hand through her short hair before returning the
greeting standing there for a moment resting. She still doesn't understand
why she always gets the big bags.

The bluerider moves on, giving another one of his nods to Arah. Saves the
mouth from undue activity. D'ney trails him a few steps, halting near the
stone walls. She's rubbing her hands on the folds of her loose brown robe,
almost as restless as the tapping Belluth, and the question tossed to Arah is
more abrupt than usual: "Transport duty?"

Arah gives another quick nod of her head towards the passing bluerider before
her blue eyes settle on D'ney, "Somethin like that, Healer supplies." She
states with a motion of her hand towards the sack, "It's what I get for being
a Healer Apprentice with a dragon, of course the fact I volunteered didn't
help much." She states with a teasing smirk before giving a slight shrug, as
she leans lightly on the wall behind her, not ready to start wrestling the
large sack agian.

"'Prenticed?" D'ney repeats, blinking to clear her eyes from their brief
period of distraction. "Well, Igen could use another dragonhealer," she
concludes, too quickly, hands going behind her back while she watches Arah,
evenly. "Don't suppose you've completed your training?"

Arah nods her head, "Yeah, Apprentice." She brushes a bit of sand from her
clothing before nodding her head agian, "Yeah that's what I thought, thou
even if we didn't I would most likely still be working on it." She gives a
light smile and then shakes her head crossing her arms across her stomach,
"Not yet, still working on the basic healer training then I head into
dragonhealing." She states quickly, blue eyes gleaming softly in the light.
"I'm ready to be done with the basic stuff myself." She gives a shrug and
slight snort. Waiting never has been a strong suit for Arah.

And -that- seems to disappoint D'ney, for whatever reason. She tries, anyway,
straightening her stance. "You'd know about herbs. More than /we/ do," she
says aloud, then lowers the brown head, lifting it on a stage-whisper, alto
sounding low, "Say you're a dragonhealer. Check on Nhaeth for me." And
those statements are uttered at her fastest speaking pace -- catch 'em if you
can.

A strange look passes across Arah's face, slender brow quirked in a
questioning look, "Well yeah I've read up on herbs and all." She states
quickly before glancing towards Nheath the same question look on her face,
"Check on Nheath, like now?" She catches the statements but isn't sure if
that's what the brownrider said, she could be saying to check on a wherry.
Well it's not likely but maybe!

D'ney puts a brown finger to her lips, eyebrows squirming into a frown on her
forehead in answer to the unspoken question. "Not so loud," she shushes,
then raises her voice on a lighter note, "Yes, that's what I want you to do.
Just to make sure. Can't have sick dragons going untreated, can we?" There
is clearly no answer to this; she's already striding ahead towards the dozing
brown.

You mutter "Shards." to D'ney.

You mutter "Please?" to Arah.

Arah blinks for a moment as it dawn's on her why she need to be all soft
spoken about the situation, she starts to open her mouth in protest until
D'ney mentions can't have a sick dragon going untreated. She gives a slight
sigh and nods her head, "Alright, but considering I've not done it before,
don't count on me being perfectly right." The brownrider states at an almost
whisper as she follows D'ney towards the dozing brown.

Sandals slapping on sand, D'ney leads the way, moving through the trickle of
people without a pause. Which also means a passing kid has to duck away from
her purposeful path, but he's of no significance, naturally. "--He's not
sick. And will never know," she tells Arah, then calls out, ten steps from
their destination. "Nhaeth! I've brought a dragonhealer." Quick, hide that
knot.

Arah follows D'ney rubbing her hands together in front of her idly, pausing
the moment D'ney calls out about brought a dragonhealer to glance at D'ney,
"I thought you said never know." She smirks softly wondering how the brown
wouldn't know with his rider announcing it basically. Belluth raises his head
with interest moving closer to the group to watch, after all this whole thing
has always been of interest to him.

Crusty flitters toward Sky Above Northwest Bowl.

Nhaeth uncoils by degrees -- first his muzzle raises, then his haunches shift,
wings unfolding slightly to fan away the dry dust that has settled on his
hide. Eyes lid open, huge and bright blue in the darkness, and innocent. So
innocent. A soft rumble emerges from him for Arah, and a swift nuzzle for
his rider, which she bats away with both hands, turning to Arah. "No, no, he
knows /this/, but not who you /are/," she emphasizes, shaking the dark-curled
head. "Arah, right?" And who knew /Dallan/ could act.

Cool, relaxed, and calculating, with a touch of mischeviousness.
Darkest mud engulfs the mammoth hide of this cream-dipped beast, earth's
rawest elements clung to heavy bone and solid muscle from the squared off
muzzle of his gruffly-hewn head to the massive paws of his rugged foundation.
Ebon-dipped talons curl dangerously here, a mimicry of the spars between his
overlarge wingsails, swathed a transluscent bark brown and drizzled with
burnt umber. Eggshell cream dips his rudder of a tail, sweeps his soft
underbelly and undefined chin, and dapples the expressive, heavy brows that
shade the flicker of life in his almandine eyes, a soft jaunty dash of
compassion in a behemoth otherwise all tooth and claw: a beast, this beauty.
Freshly oiled leather straps dyed in dark cobalt; winds smoothly around
Belluth's earthen neck. Buckles and rings of tarnished silver, so tarnished
they appear more black than silver gleam with nocturnal darkness as they line
the length of the dark colored straps. Those darkened buckles quite handy for
making adjustments to the still growing size of the brown, as well as making
helpful hand holds for anyone bold enough to wish to mount this beastly
brown. The straps are lined with thick padding dyed in a bright crimson so to
protect the soft cream-dipped hide of their owner.
Belluth is 4 Turns, 8 Months, and 12 Days old.
Stealthy, Crafty, Quick, and Very Devious as well as being in a all around
good mood. This belle of a brown is his regular old beastly self.

Inky dollops of dusty rose salmon coalesce the creases of this brown dragon's
vast expanse of seasoned black cherry hide, cluttering into gangly
extremities seeped in sepia before vanishing beneath a facade of dusky
darkness. Sleek sheets of lengthy mocha-washed wings drizzled with an
ethereal edge of frosty pink coral veins engulf him, cluttering the smooth,
rounded ridges that bud from his elongated neck and rosewood headknobs,
leaving only a whim of the large, expressive eyes that light his nervous
triangular head. Hints of deep well metallicy limn his soot-smudged
physique, creating golden glimpses that overshadow the disproportions and
discrepancies and glitter the lengthy starscape frame from rich hazelnut tail
to clever ebon talons with heroic motes of succulent, suffering incandescence.
Nhaeth is 6 Turns, 10 Months, and 23 Days old.
Sketching out a personal starscape.

Arah just looked at you.

Arah watches Nhaeth carefully for a moment as if expecting some evil Belluth
stunt out of the innocent looking brown or maybe just to get an over all idea
of the dragon's state like she would if it was a sick dragon. The brownrider
giving a soft ooh as D'ney explains, "My bad." Well she is entitled to a few
blonde moments being blonde and all. "Yeah, it's Arah." She gives a warm
smile, "Any place you want me to check frist?" She asks with a slight quirk
of her brow.

D'ney swishes around, inspecting Nhaeth. And his talons, judging from the
intense scrutiny she's giving the ground area. Nhaeth gazes down
indulgently, rearing up to better exhibit his glossy claws. So proud, too.
D'ney rattles away, continuing an unheard exchange, "So we'll let the
dragonhealer check your leg. Right. He said his foreleg hurt. Hurts when
he bends it," she turns to Arah, demonstrating by crooking an arm.

Arah gives a quick nod of her head, "Ahh I see." She makes her way closer to
Nhaeth examining the leg for obvious signs as she goes, pausing to look back
at D'ney, "Would he dump me in the lake or something if I touched it to get a
good look?" She asks with a warm smile, asking so something like that doesn't
happen but making some what of a joke of it cause she never did like those oh
so always serious healers.

D'ney never bothered to explain the case in any detail, so Arah is entitled to
be clueless now. Nhaeth, on the other hand, is looking more abashed than
anything, although he does lower his bulk to facilitate the examination. His
rider gives a firm negative, moving back to join Arah. "Go ahead. Worst
thing he could do is rouse the whole Weyr." A serious occurrence in itself,
but her voice is neutral, her face impassive.

Arah is in fact clueless but looking to try and figure out something never
hurt anything, except for maybe the looker. Brownrider gives a light shiver
at the thought of rousing the whole Weyr but she remains serious for the
moment, blue eyes focusing as she examines Nheath's foreleg, she glances from
dragon to rider then scrunches her face softly, "Well I don't see anything
obvious." She with a slightly disappointed voice, well can't blame her for
wanting to get by easy.

D'ney hitches her arms to her sides and stands thus, a sturdy, steady figure
dappled various shades of brown. "Nothing," she echoes Arah for Nhaeth's
benefit; nods at the dragon. "See? She says there's /nothing/ wrong with
you." To the faux-dragonhealer, she states, teeth clenched: "He asks if
numbweed would help."

Arah stretches softly as she moves back still looking Nheath over then dust
what dust she managed to get on her back off, she gives a lil shake of her
head still clueless as to what is going on exactly, "Actually, if it /is/
anything, which I can't seem to find anything, it's probley a over stressed
muscle." She explains quickly, before running a hand through her hair, "Best
thing for that is rest and swimming, but I really don't think there is
anything there." Then agian she is only the faux-dragonhealer.

D'ney rolls her eyes. "An overstressed muscle that hasn't healed in a whole
/month/." She waves an arm at Nhaeth, makes a face, then growls under her
breath to Arah, "Look clever. Angry. Tell him he needn't be grounded any
more." And look -- she doesn't bother to modulate her tone even in a request
for help. Will Arah be offended?

Arah eyes widen slightly as the thought of a overstressed muscle not healing
in a whole month, hand is placed on her hip as she cocks her head to the side
and looks at Nheath, "Well there is nothing there I can find, like I said
before so I see no reason for him to be grounded anymore." She gives a firm
nod of her head, trying to be convening as possible which is hard considering
she can't find anything.

But that's the whole point. D'ney shoots a smug grin at Nhaeth, crosses her
arms. See? She was right. "We can fly again. Thank you, Dragonhealer."
You could almost hear the capitalization on the title. Nhaeth looks suitably
embarrassed at this stage of the affair, ducking his nose behind an upraised
paw.

Arah just looks at D'ney and Nheath with a serious face though slight curves
signs of a starting grin can be found on either side of her lips. "Your Very
Welcome." She states as she starting to think D'ney and Nheath bicker as
much as Belluth and herself, naaaaahh...Belluth and herself still remain the
keepers of bickering.

D'ney and Nhaeth don't bicker. Their arguments are mostly one-sided. Not
that you can tell from the palpable silence that has since descended around
the rider side of the equation. Arms still crossed, D'ney remains spaced out
for a few moments. Then, "/That/'s settled. Sorry for taking up your time,"
she says to Arah, dragon-lent emotion simmering beneath her words.

Arah is in the middle of Bellu informing her they don't bicker either and if
they do she started it, causing the brownrider to roll her eyes before
blinking then smiling towards D'ney, "Oooh, It was no problem, I actually
enjoyed it." She says to D'ney in a cheerful tone, blue eyes glancing to make
sure a weyrbrat didn't take off with the sack of healer supplies. "I needed
the break anyway."

"Helps to have more experience," D'ney says, pauses, swinging her arms free
once more. "Come to us whenever you need a favour, okay?" She's awkward in
saying that, but says it anyway, and starts frowning after. "Your things. I
could get 'em for you."

"Indeed it does, though the only way you get experience it doing it." Arah
says and gives a quick shrug of her shoulders. She gives a shake of her head,
"Nah, don't worry about it, just happy I could be of help." She says
dismissing the whole favor idea with a wave of her hand, the sack is once
agian gazed at, "I'd appreciate it, kinda hard wrestling a bag almost a big
as you." She gives a sheepish grin, "but you don't have to, almost got 'em to
the infirmary as it is." She adds quickly.

D'ney is uncomfortable with ambiguity -- her shoulders bunch into an answering
shrug. "I'm off duty. Won't help if you don't want me to." So the ball is
in Arah's court, as it is.

Belluth moves towards the sack looking it over and then sniffing it causing
him to make a that smells funny face and then sneeze. Muzzle is lowered to
rub at it with a forepaw before he glance towards Arah and gives a slight
croon. "Well if you don't mind to help, then feel free.. I sure don't mind."
She pauses for a moment in some silent exchange before she scrunches her
brow, "Don't you even think about it!" She tells Bellu firmly as the brown
lines a backpaw up with the sack to give it a kick to it's destination,
pausing paw off the ground giving Arah a look like, Wha? I wasn't going to.
"Either way, I'd better move it before he," She sticks a thumb towards Bellu,
"get anymore bright ideas."

D'ney chuckles, erasing the remnant grumpiness. "Yeah. Dragons shouldn't
touch goods. Might break something." With that, she hurries forward to heft
at the sack, whether Arah is already there or not. There is an accompanying
breeze -- Nhaeth is testing his wings, delicately flexing one arm and then
the other.

(Nhaeth) [-] Belluth spills across the link in bright erratic colors dancing
across black background suddenly those colors takes shape to himself with a
halo over his head, sending the sack that has everyone's attention flying
into infirmary. <<That would still be faster, don't you think?>> He voice is
gruff like that of a hardened hunters and it seems to have a lit of a pout to
it.

Arah nods, "With Belluth it wouldn't be something, it'd likely be everything."
She states with a light giggle and shake of her head, "He tends to get over
zealous." She grabs her side of the sack figuring if D'ney grabs one side,
and she grabs the other it shouldn't be that hard to carry.

(Nhaeth) Belluth sees: Nhaeth wants to be helpful, oh he does, after that
fiasco. He pours liquid images of glowing red and brown over the tableau,
picking out the sack in special, glinting shades. << Yes, help our riders
get it in. >> An afterthought, << But be careful. >>

D'ney does grab the other side. "Now," she calls out when both have a grip on
the sack. "In there, right?"

Arah nods her head, "Yeah in.." Belluth doesn't give Arah the chance to finish
her answer as to where the sack is suppose to go, he lowers his muzzle down
giving the sack a hard butt towards the infirmary figuring both riders would
be smart enough to let go when it shoved against. Trying to be helpful here,
beep beep, large brown dragon with a large sack coming through.

(Nhaeth) Belluth sees: Nhaeth floods approval against your mind, a deep broad
wall of content blues -- but then the dam breaks, and he thuds up against the
link with surprise and shock ringing alarums in the air.

D'ney is able to let go in time. Her balance, however, is not perfect, and
she staggers back, tipping -- hard -- against stone. "Hey!" she shouts at
the barrelling dragon, even as Nhaeth lumbers forward, both wings held wide
to shield.

Arah gets her finger trapped in a loop on the sack causing the flying sack to
change course slightly, while Arah ends up falling flat on her face and
stomach hard. "Ooof..What the.." Blue eyes glance as she watches the sack go
flying through the infirmary door to be followed by a loud shout and then
crashing cause the brownrider it cringe in terror. Belluth mean while slowly
starts sneaking off to the opposite direction of the whole situation, moving
up near a wall. You do not see him, He is a chameleon.

Dragons seem to specialize in over-reacting. Nhaeth is trying to hover over
D'ney while she growls at him. "I'm all right, I'm all right. Arah, you
okay? What /was/ that?" She cranes towards the dragon infirmary from her
spot against the wall, one hand splayed on the grey surface. The crashing
has stopped, but the ensuing silence is ominous.

Arah gives a quick nod of her head as she makes her way to her feet, "Just got
the air knocked out of me a bit." She states before glaceing about to find
Belluth hiding near a wall. In that moment you could likely fry a wherry egg
on the brownrider's head, "I'm not sure what it was, but I think I'm starting
to figure it out." She glares at her dragon before glancing towards the
dragon infirmary her eyes widening at the silence. "Umm...I sure hope that
didn't hit anyone." She cringes at the thought.

"No, Nhaeth, you didn't do it," D'ney is saying from where she's partially
hidden by an overhanging wing. "Stop that." She hunches, sticks hands in
pockets, stumps forward. "Let's go in and see. We ought to." Oh, how
Dallan has changed these turns.

Arah gives a quick nod of her head, "Yes we ought to." She looks towards
Belluth, "You stay right there. I know you never mean for it to happen, but
you don't think thing through either." The brown lowers his head and gives a
pitiful croon, "Just stay here." Arah says with a slight sigh figuring it
will be easier to deal with him later after she finds out if he killed
anyone. "Welp, may as well go see what he broke." After all a crash doesn't
come from thing not breaking, and with that she makes her way toward the
dragon infirmary.

So long as it wasn't a dragon breaking. D'ney nods and scuttles in, a-seeking
the damage.

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!

The following dragons are here: Pequoth
From here you can go:
Bowl      Inner Infirmary     DragonHealer's Office

Arah strides elegantly in from NorthWest Bowl.

The Infirmary is now alot less cleaner as the bag managed to hit a shelf-full
of herbs causing them to fall to the floor and break or at least that's what
it looks like as Arah frist steps in. "Ohhh they are going to have my hide."
She comments though at the moment she doesn't hear anybody.

Nhaeth slinks in from NorthWest Bowl.

Nhaeth sticks his head in the entranceway, away from the outer gloom. D'ney
tramps in with deliberate, if light, footfalls, halting at the sight of the
ruined jars. "Shardit, your 'mate threw the bag at th--" she breaks into a
stutter, gives up. "Could've been worse. Could've hit a sick dragon. A
real sick one." So much for optimism.

Arah gives a quick nod of her head, "I have no idea what got into him." She
states with a light sigh, "Your right it could've been worse, and I'm happy
it wasn't." She glances around trying to find out where the bag went to,
moving among the cots carefully. "He could have hit someone.." She pauses at
what sounds like someone making a groan.

Master Pilorn lets out a load groan as he sits up in front of the now broken
shelf admist the scattered herbs. The old Master rubs a hand through his
white hair smoothing it back out of his face, "Sharding, since when do healer
supply sacks fly?" He asks his tone both anger and confused at the same time.
Disorientation anyone?

Uh oh. D'ney was staying back, well out of the way, but moves forward on
hearing the old Master's voice. Wordlessly, she offers a hand, shakes her
head with a glance at Arah. "Sorry about that, Healer -- we lost our hold on
the sack." Which is the story in a nutshell; Arah can explain the rest.

Arah's eyes widen at the sound of the old Master's voice let alone the fact
his head popping up from where the sack had landed. She makes her way over to
offer him help up as well, "So Sorry, Master Pilorn." Glance is given towards
D'ney, did someone mention something about it could be worse? As for the
explaining she will just wait till after she is sure the Master didn't crack
his skull or something.

D'ney is a prophet, isn't she? The little tomboy is nothing but calm, though,
as she crouches to assist the Master. "Anything broken? A heavy sack hit
you." She has become the healer, in a strange twist of events. Adds,
"Master Pilorn."

Master Pilorn takes the offered help getting himself to his feet as quickly as
a man of his age just hit with a sack will-- Slowly. Once on his feet he
stands a moment before dusting bits of herbs and shards of glass from the
jars from his clothes, trying to regain his composure as he looks towards
both brownriders, "I'm alright, just a few minor scratches, a slight bump on
the noggin, but otherwise no worse for wear." He states gives a little wave
of his hands, "But do please, tell me how you loose hold on a sack of that
size?" He asks giving a little motion to the sack sitting off just a little
distance away, his white brows scrunched tightly together.

D'ney starts clearing broken glass from the floor, for lack of something to do
with her hands. She'd make quite an apprentice. Such a pity. In the
meantime, Arah can explain; she gives no sign of responding to the Master's
inquiry.

Arah stays near Master Pilorn looking him over to make sure he is just as okay
as he said before she picks up on of the few unbroken jar's that had been on
the bottom shelf and sets it in a safe spot nearby, sending a thanks for help
explaining look towards D'ney "Well, it's really not all that hard to loose
hold of a sack of that size, when a large brown decides to use it as a.." She
spreads her hand trying to come up with a good word to describe the
siltation, "Well..ball.. I guess." She moves back to cleaning up agian.

Master Pilorn gives a approving nod of his head to both riders as they start
cleaning up, he moves over towards the shelf grabbing what isn't broken out
of it, as well a removing one wooden shelf as it had already fallen out in
the frist place. He listens to the explanation carefully, removing several
types of herbs into new jars to be looked through later for glass then
getting rid of the broken jar. "So your saying some random brown dragon came
by and decided to use the sack as all ball?" He asks with a questioning face,
"Well what would possess the dragon to do that, and which dragon was it." He
has full intentions of talking with the rider after this.

Since Arah is cleaning up, D'ney will take over the task of explanation. She
gathers up what dignity she can in rugged 'brows and a furrowed forehead
while being bent over on the floor. "The dragon didn't mean for the sack to
hit you, Master. He wanted to butt it into the infirmary, help us carry it.
My lifemate encouraged him." She is all attention, sticking to the facts
/and/ skirting the guilty truth.

Arah squirms, yes squirms like a nervous wherry being eyeballed by a pack of
hungry dragons. She really doesn't want to tell the guilty truth. That it was
in fact her lifemate that decided he would be helpful only to have it turn
out horrible. Yet she keeps cleaning not ready to admit in fact it was
Belluth if she can manage not to.

At the exit, Nhaeth rumbles his concern. /He/ will never say it -- neither
will D'ney, who is vainly trying to stuff the herbs back into the ripped
sack, having swept the larger shards of glass into a corner. Pilorn will
have to put them through the Rack.

Master Pilorn pauses a moment taking in both rider's with his gaze, "So
actually the dragon, who if I need to remind me you have not said which one,
was really trying to be helpful." He makes this more of a statement then
question, "Well to be honestly, I will have to have a talk with them, just to
insure they know how dangerous that was, what if they had hit a patient hmm?"
He beady eyes set on Arah as she squirms, "So which dragon was it?" Yes he
asks it directly to her knowing good and well she is a healer apprentice and
technically has to answer.

Arah mummers softly to herself as she grabs the offending sack and sets it
neatly to the side, looking up at Pilorn realizing she isn't going to get out
of not admitting it was in fact Belluth even if Nhaeth and D'ney never say
it. Though her lifemate rumbles from the bowl and without thinking about she
pops off, "Nheath did it?!?" It comes out more of a statement as if she was
accusing Nheath when in fact it was something Belluth said she was responding
to, brownrider's eyes go wide as she claps a hand over her mouth. She didn't
mean it!

D'ney freezes. Eyes Arah, hazels like flint sparking into quiet flame.
"Nhaeth," she mutters through gritted teeth. "/Ne-ver/ do that." She
stands; glares daggers at the brown, who is looking a ghastly shade of
grey-brown at this moment.

Belluth struts with stealthy grace in from NorthWest Bowl.

(Nhaeth) Belluth sees: Nhaeth flashes with mute, resigned quicksilver,
flashes of fish in schools, criss-crossing each other.

Master Pilorn blinks looking from Arah to D'ney, "Wait, I've missed something
here haven't I?" He asks looking towards the ghastly shade of a grey-brown at
the moment. The poor old Master is getting completely confused (as really old
people tend to) by the different reactions.

Belluth pokes his own gruffly-hewn head in giving a rumble. He heard right
didn't he, Nheath is taking the fall or did he miss something here too. Arah
gives a quick shake of her head, "No No No...Nheath didn't do it!" She gives
a side-long glance towards Belluth, but still just doesn't say he did it!

D'ney unclamps her jaw, and just says lowly, to Arah: "If you say Nhaeth did
it, he did. I told him to. Wasn't your fault." Said dragon doesn't move a
muscle.

Master Pilorn clamps his arms across his chest looking at both riders firmly,
"Your saying he did it, and you told him to." He says motion towards D'ney,
"And your saying he didn't.." He gives a nod of his head towards Arah,
"Alright Ladies, lets not give this poor old healer mind problems to go with
the bump on the noggin." He states with a warm tone, just really trying to
get the bottom of it all.

D'ney isn't a /lady/. She sticks those hands behind her back again, knotting
fingers and cracking joints.

Arah takes a deep breath then lets out a long sigh, "Nheath did nothing more
than encourage Belluth to be helpful." She admits softly her voice growing a
bit more louder as she goes, "Belluth thought the job would be done faster if
he gave it a butt instead of D'ney and myself packing it in here. It was
really just a accident, and I'm sure he /won't/ do it agian." She stresses
the word won't her eyes lowered to a glare at her 'mate as he lowers his head
and gives a low rumble. Yup she spilled the beans.

D'ney did not expect the admission, but keeps her gaze on Pilorn nevertheless,
avoiding Arah's eyes. "'e didn't think it would hit the herbs," she states
flatly, detachedly. Someone needs target practice in other than the
firestone department.

Master Pilorn nods his head slowly as if working the whole siltation over in
his head while he finishes cleaning up the shelf or at least what he can
without a broom of some sort. Moving over to a nearby table he works on
saving what good herbs he can, before turning to look at Arah, "Well then,
considering it was an accident, nothing other than this poor old shelf and a
bunch of herbs was damaged, I think in all no harm was really done." He
states spreading his hands, "But I don't wanna hear of this happening agian,
and I expect for both the herbs and shelf to be replaced, understood?" Either
the bump on the head did him some good, or Pilorn is just a easy on to get by
either way looks like Arah can get off pretty easy this time.

/That/ is all? D'ney actually scowls, perhaps because she's trying too hard
not to smile. "Yes, Healer," she snaps out like a hardy soldier she is, even
salutes him. Old habits die hard.

Arah can't decides if she should be afraid or happy, she will go with very
serious at the moment and worry about the other two emotions later. "Yes,
Master Pilorn, and yet agian, really sorry." She states giving a quick bow of
her head, just happy she didn't end up with extra infirmary clean up or
something.

The shelves and herbs will have to be found, however, and that means Work.
D'ney wipes her hands on her garments yet again; produces a taut, tiny smile.
"We'll need an inventory of what was lost. And a woodcrafter, for the shelf.
I know one who'll do it for a trade," she categorizes. Notice the
inclusion of herself -- and Nhaeth, presumably -- in the show.

Master Pilorn nods softly, "I'll get both a inventory within the next few
days, as for the woodcrafter find one talk it over and then we will work
something out." The older healer states before giving yawn, "Well I send an
apprentice in to clean what is left of this mess up, as for me, I'm going to
bed getting hit with a sack will sure take it out of you." He gives a teasing
grin and then bows his head, "If you will excuse me." With that the older
Healer turns to head to his room, pausing for a moment he calls back, "If you
need anything else don't be afraid to ask." Then he is gone.

D'ney gapes after dear old Master Pilorn, the unbelievably Nice Healer, when
he is out of earshot. "How does he ever get his apprentices to /listen/ to
him?" she appeals to the deflated sack in front of them.

Arah gives a nod of her head towards D'ney, "I know where to find most of
herbs." She states giving a wave towards the Master as he slips off all
suddenly like most Healer's do. Though at D'ney's comment she gives a slight
grin, "Ahh he isn't always that nice, all depends on when you catch him." She
actually expect much worse, "Then agian, Normally where Master Pilorn is so
is Master Terron. " She pauses to make sure no one is in ear shot, "And
Terron is a cranky ole grouch."

D'ney turns to better examine the room and its crannies, where a Terron might
lurk. None appears to scare them into submission and she subsides, heaving a
sigh of relief. "Good of you to tell him," she informs Arah, then shuffles
toward the door, shoving Nhaeth's nose aside with an affectionate pummel.
Fortunately for them, the infirmary is relatively empty this sevenday, and
the patients who are there were clustered at the portion away from the shelf.

Arah gives a quick nod of her head and a tired sigh as if she too almost
expect the cranky old master to pop out on 'em. She make her way towards the
door pausing she yawns and then glances towards D'ney, "Sorry you ended up in
the middle of this." She says with a slight smile, "Guess we are even, I
helped you with Nhaeth and then dragged you into trouble." She gives a a
shake of her head, "Well, I'm going to go get some rest not to mention have
another long talk with Belluth." She says giving a quick wave of her hand,
"Take care." She will worry about the herbs and shelves after she has had
some reset.

D'ney disagrees. "Not yet even -- /you/ took the blame," she points out.
"I'll help with the herbs." No arguments now, for she's already gone.

You mount Nhaeth.

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