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:
	12/17/96

Log Cast:
	Lal, F'hlan

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Lal comes up the steps from the Bowl outside.
Lal has arrived.
Lal is about to go and shake the curtains, when she spies F'hlan. "'lo."

Bronze dragon is the first thing visible in this weyr; bronze dragon, and 
  bronze dragonrider, the former gleaming with an oiling in progress, the 
  latter clad in rumpled and oil-streaked clothes. F'hlan looks down from the 
  stool he's currently perched on, and smiles. "Good day, Lal; can I help you?"

Lal shrugs. "I dunna want t'bother..."

Tzornth, opening his outermost eyelids, rumbles lazily in greeting to the 
  visitor.

F'hlan steps down off the stool and takes up a rag, to wipe oil off his hands. 
  "A break would do me good, anyway," he replies amiably. "You're not 
  bothering."

Lal smiles at Tzornth, and then says to you, "Oh. Well. I just had a little 
  question."

The older rider gives a patient nod, an eyebrow crooking slightly, his gaze 
  interested.

Lal says "Well, sir, I wanted t'know...yer opinion o'bronzeriders. In general."

F'hlan blinks; evidently, he hadn't expected that at all. His brow furrows 
  slightly under his forelock, as he gestures an invitation for you to claim 
  the stool if you'd like. In the meantime, after a bit of thought, he says, 
  "Well, keeping in mind that I can't really speak for any bronze rider but 
  me, are you asking me what kind of men I think bronze riders are?"

Lal sits down, and folds up her rather large legs. It looks kinda funny. 
  "Well...yah. I mean...I havena had real good expereinces wi'em."

The dragon nearby opens his next layer of eyelids, apparently growing more 
  alert as he takes note of the conversation in which his rider has become 
  involved. From somewhere a little farther away, though not in immediate 
  sight, a fire lizard chitters, and another answers back.

F'hlan leans slightly onto his right leg, his features going gravely musing. 
  "I'm sorry to hear that," he says, and his earnest tone suggests he means 
  it. "But to answer your question... well. I'm sure you've heard your share 
  of tales about what bronze riders are 'supposed' to be like." He turns, 
  searches around, and claims another low stool, onto which he folds his 
  leanly boned frame.

Lal nods. "An' they seem t'be true--least wi'MOST o'th'ones I know--present 
  company 'cepted."
Lal sighs.

F'hlan's mouth curls up on one end, slightly self-deprecatingly. "I won't ask 
  which tales you're exempting me from." Brown eyes twinkle, just a bit. "I 
  will tell you this, though. I have known bronze riders with whom I have been 
  honored to serve Pern; I've known others that have made me have to fight to 
  keep my calm, especially if they've been under my command, or men under 
  whose direct command I've served. Often, they've been the same man."

Lal shrugs. "I guess."

F'hlan goes on earnestly, "I think I could say the same of riders of any 
  color, though, not just bronzes. We're... just men. Does that help, any?"

Lal shrugs. "Yah. Doesna matter. I'm leavin' soon anyways."

F'hlan's dark eyebrows quirk a little higher; he nods, once, soberly. 
  "Thunderbolt Wing will be sorry to lose you. So will my daughter."

Lal smiles a little sadly. "I'll miss both. But it's best fer....everybody."
Lal shrugs. "I'm sorry t'waste yer time."

"You haven't," comes the calm reply. "May I tell Mehlani letters would be 
  welcome? Or visits, when you settle in to your new place?"

Lal nods. "Oh, I'll visit....I dunna write too good."

F'hlan inclines his head, content with that. "I don't know where she'll be, if 
  the Harpers and Herders keep at her." A slightly wider smile. "But I daresay 
  she'll ask me to bespeak your Areseth, should she move to a new location."

Tzornth rumbles, as if to put in, 'And I would, of course.'

Lal smiles. "Thankee sir. I will...miss her alot. But she's a fine girl. 
  She'll be just fine."

Quiet fatherly pride softens the bronze rider's features; again, he nods, 
  once. "Do you have a transfer date set? I expect she'll want to see you off."

Lal shakes her head. "Sometime after Ista's Search, sir."

You say "Alright." A pause, then, encouragingly, "Is there anything else I 
  could answer?""

Lal blinks, and wipes her eye. "Well.....naw. I dunna think so."
Lal blinks. Her eyes unfocus. "My. Seems th'weyrleader has requested me."
Lal nods. "'Scuse me sir....an'thankee."

Brown gaze searching, F'hlan studies you. He then nods once more, this time 
  more briskly. He rises, and says readily, "You're welcome," as you go.'.

Lal heads down the low steps to the Bowl outside.
Lal has left.

[End log.]