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.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Log Date: 9/5/96
Log Cast:
	F'hlan, R'till
Log Intro:
	Many things happen to the young people of a Weyr, and oftentimes
behind the backs of the riders who are their parents. But one thing happens
that R'till, blue Brandalth's rider, notices -- and as it involves the
son of his best friend F'hlan, R'till feels honorbound to go talk to the
bronze rider about it...

----------
Tzornth's Weyr(#8157RJ$)
This is a smallish weyr, and one whose walls are roughly hewn, suggesting 
  it might have been one of the last ones cut into the walls of Benden Weyr. 
  The stone floor, too, is less smooth than in other parts of the Weyr, 
  tilting very slightly towards the dragon-shaped depression near one wall. 
  Higher up along the walls are several nooks and tiny ledges where fire 
  lizards can roost.
There are two exits out of this chamber, one out to the Bowl, and another 
  into a smaller chamber towards the back of the weyr, obviously intended as 
  personal quarters for whatever rider resides here.

A grey overcast covers Benden, and the air feels very humid.
Contents:
Callie
Tzornth(#742IMQaeqs)
Aeyri(#9556IMes)
Obvious exits:
Quarters  Bowl

F'hlan
With a slim build that accentuates his otherwise unremarkable height, this 
  man seems made more for quickness than strength, though the unconscious 
  sureness of his movements suggests discipline enough to make up for any lack 
  of physical fortitude. Sunstreaked dark reddish-brown hair frames his lean, 
  weathered face, long enough to reach his shoulderblades in back, and to 
  leave a thick lock habitually dangling in his solemn brown eyes. A streak of 
  silver - a premature one, given the youthfulness of his face - runs through 
  his forelock. His demeanor is customarily gravely polite. When he walks, he 
  does so with a slight limp, and occasionally has a look of strain about him 
  as if from a headache.

R'till comes up the steps from the Bowl outside.
R'till has arrived.
R'till clears his throat, coming in.

F'hlan, working on oiling one of his fire lizards -- the youngest, the one 
  brown in his fair -- glances up at R'till's arrival, and smiles. "My friend."

R'till grins and stand stands, "You always have such nice fls." He shifts, 
  "But I came to talk about your eldest."

The young brown blinkblinks at R'till, cheeps hesitantly, and huddles down 
  in F'hlan's hands, as the bronze rider blinks once himself, an eyebrow going 
  up in query.

R'till looks down, "Well,, yesterday, I was in the LC with Devlin. His 
  voice is cracking... Well, Fahloran came in and called him 'Squeaky.' I told 
  him that was rude, but thought it would be better coming from you."

F'hlan goes still for a moment, his other eyebrow going up. He then frowns, 
  slightly, eyebrows tightening over his eyes. "Did he?" It's not _quite_ a 
  question.

R'till nods, still looking down, "Yes."

F'hlan carefully sets down brown Ged, who flutters off to hide somewhere 
  from the stranger in the weyr, and then sighs. "It wasn't that long ago that 
  Fahloran was upset over his own voice cracking. I should think he'd have 
  remembered," he says quietly.

R'till nods, "He claimed that devlin did it to him, but I don't remember 
  that."

F'hlan considers this. "I can't confirm or deny that; I hardly see the lad. 
  Mehlani sees him more than I." He half-smiles. "Devlin gave her a 
  Turning-day gift."

R'till smiles saddly, "I heard."

F'hlan then nods, slowly, as he lifts a hand for the impatient Twyr to come 
  down and receive her share of the oiling. "Thank you, though. I'll have to 
  talk to both of them, I expect."

R'till raises an eyebrow, "Both? Fahloran and? Mehlani?" He's lost here.

"Fahloran and Devlin," answers F'hlan, succintly. "If apologies are due on 
  both sides, I'll want to make sure they are tendered."

R'till nods, "Course."

F'hlan starts spreading oil into Twyr's green hide; the fire lizard 
  wriggles happily, cooing at the attention. F'hlan smiles wistfully, and 
  adds, "Do all boys harangue one another that way, when their voices changes? 
  Rillawy's brothers gave me a rough time, in Tillek..."

R'till shrugs, "I think it's kind of a right of passage. But Devlin took it 
  hard."

F'hlan frowns at this, quietly. Then just nods, and promises, "I'll speak 
  with my son. Again... thank you."

R'till nods, "Thank you."

F'hlan stares somewhat broodingly at Twyr now, as he oils her, though he 
  doesn't appear in a hurry for R'till to depart. Then he chuckles, shortly. 
  "I shudder to think of what Anra's going to be like when she gets to be 
  Fahloran's age. That'll be harder to deal with, I think."

R'till chuckles, "At least Cetilla is calm. She likes both boys though."

[The riders finish their conversation, and, as R'till's typist had to go,
 we end the log...]