The World of Pern(tm) is copyright to Anne McCaffrey (c) 1967.
The Dragonriders of Pern(r) is a registered copyright.

This is a log of roleplay on PernMUSH, available online by permission of
Anne McCaffrey, author of the Pern novels, and recorded by A.S. Korra'ti
(piper@murkworks.net), player of Mehlani of Telgar Weyr on PernMUSH.
This log may be distributed freely as long as this header remains intact.
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Log Date: 9/6/96
Log Cast:
	Fahloran, F'hlan, Tzornth
Log Intro:
	R'till has come to F'hlan with the news that Fahloran apparently
greatly upset Devlin by calling him "Squeaky", due to Devlin's voice starting
to change. Since he's caught his daughter Mehlani being greatly upset about
this as well -- and suspecting that it's due to her growing friendship
with Merla's fosterling -- F'hlan decides to have a talk with Fahloran
about this, at the earliest opportunity....

----------
Fahloran trudges in.

F'hlan is shrugging into his riding jacket, unsurprisingly next to his dragon, 
  who stares whirlingly at his rider's son as Fahloran coems into the weyr. 
  F'hlan turns, then, expression quiet.

Fahloran
This towheaded young boy sports huge, liquid brown eyes, a shaggy mop of soft,
reddish-blond hair that frequently gets into his face, and the thin, wiry
build of an active and quickly growing child. His gaze is direct and curious,
frequently wry, often surprisingly alert and knowing for a boy his size, and
his sage looks seem somewhat contradictory with his waifish appearance. This
lad is, on the other hand, often jumping and running around at top speed,
pointing at this, chattering about that, and in general being a loud and happy
kid. He is 12 Turns, 8 months, and 20 days old.
Carrying:
Isha

Fahloran goes to sit next to his sleeping puppy.

F'hlan says quietly to you, "Need to talk to you, lad."

Fahloran looks up, expression indicating he was expecting this.

Tzornth shifts behind his rider, head craning round every so slightly. The 
  dragon's innermost eyelids are closed, suggesting drowsiness, but knowing 
  Tzornth, he's listening in.

F'hlan sits stiffly down on Tzornth's foreleg, then clasps his hands together 
  thoughtfully. He remains like that for a moment, considering what he wants 
  to say, then he pulls in a breath and begins, "R'till came to talk to me; he 
  said you and Devlin had an exchange. Want to tell me about it?"

Fahloran shrugs. "It was nothing, sir," he says truthfully.

"R'till claimed," says your father, "that you called Devlin, ah, 'Squeaky', 
  and that Devlin took it rather badly." There's no accusation in F'hlan's 
  voice; this is neither Wingleader Voice, nor, mercifully, Weyrleader. His 
  face is solemn, gaze attentive, but then, that's not unusual. "Was R'till 
  mistaken?"

Fahloran swallows. "No, sir," he says simply. He could *never* lie to his 
  father.

F'hlan ponders this, with a brief sidewise glance up to his dragon -- a look 
  that says 'Shut up Tzornth' without his actually voicing it. The bronze 
  doesn't make a sound for once, though his eye does whirl mutedly under his 
  closed translucent lid. Finally, F'hlan goes on, "Mehlani... apparently 
  found out about this as well. She came running in here, crying."
F'hlan regards you steadily, adding more impact to that statement than he 
  could by further words of explanation.

Fahloran swallows again. "'Lani cries at anything," he says defensively.

F'hlan does not deny this -- not exactly. All he says is, "Have you ever known 
  her to weep without cause?"

Fahloran nods.
Fahloran is obviously not going to offer a lot of help here.

F'hlan's eyebrows go up at that nod, then after a moment he continues, "Well. 
  You know that she talks much less often than she cries, but I did get her to 
  tell me that the changing of Devlin's voice scared her. It seems" -- and 
  here, his voice does grow ever so slightly firmer, speaking of Wingleader 
  Voice, without quite reaching it -- "that the changing of _your_ voice 
  rather frightened her. If she has no cause for tears over it, it would 
  probably help it if she got that assurance from you."

Fahloran looks at his father, trying to use the inherited big brown 
  F'hlan-eyes on him. "Father, I haven't seen much of 'Lani. I've been too 
  busy in the Infirmary. I don't know what Dev told her."

Looking unperturbed, F'hlan says simply, "She's taking a nap on my bed right 
  now." He doesn't say it, but his tone implies, 'Next excuse?'

Fahloran lowers his head. "I called Dev 'squeaky'. He teased me when my voice 
  changed, too." He looks up. "But if 'Lani chooses to get all cryey over it, 
  how is that *my* fault?"

You say "Mehlani says that Devlin denies insulting you."
F'hlan's statement is succint, though yet unaccusing, merely expectant, 
  questioning.

Fahloran looks at his father. "He did," he states simply.

F'hlan is silent for a time after that, as he regards you searchingly. Then, 
  without nodding or shaking his head, he says gravely, "I see." That's all he 
  says, as he lifts his gaze to sweep the perches high up on the walls of the 
  weyr, where a few of his fire lizards are drowsing. Green Koei peeps once at 
  his glance, lifting her head, and as he lifts an arm for her, she wings down 
  lightly. F'hlan begins to methodically inspect her hide, and at last adds to 
  you, "That's all I need to know for now, then, son. We'll talk more about 
  this after I speak to Devlin."

Fahloran nods. "Yes, sir," he says quietly. He looks back at his puppy, then 
  turns to his father. "Sir?"

F'hlan glances up inquiringly.

Fahloran says "Will this change your mind about taking me to Healer?"

F'hlan peers down at Koei as she happily nips the cuff of his jacket sleeve; 
  one corner of his mouth curls up briefly, and he scritches her dainty 
  eyeridges. Then he looks back to his son, and says, "I do not claim to be a 
  dragonhealer, but I think I'm justified in saying that at least to some 
  extent, taking care of a dragon means encouraging the health and happiness 
  of a dragonrider."

At that, Tzornth abruptly rumbles, almost amusedly.

Fahloran nods. "Yes, sir," he says, obviously not understanding.

F'hlan might almost be said to smile, perhaps at something his dragon says. 
  But F'hlan goes on, "I'd like you to think about what you'd do in this case 
  if Mehlani and Devlin were dragonriders."

Fahloran blinkblinks. "Yes, sir." He chews on his lower lip, thinking.

[Fahloran's player had to go at this point, thus, we end the log...]