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: Early June 1996
Log Cast:
	F'hlan
	Anra
	Fahloran
	Melora
Log Intro:
	F'hlan's life has been picking up at Benden Weyr -- he has finally
gotten the hang of the changes he's undergone since his loss of the
Weyrleadership and has, in fact, settled down rather happily into his
new position as Thunderbolt Wingsecond. As he has grown more comfortable
his old familiarity with the needs of the Weyr has begun to come back --
and it is this familiarity that has prompted Weyrleader P'tran to
name F'hlan temporary Weyrsecond in charge of tracking down a new
upsurge of renegades in Benden Weyr's territory.
	F'hlan has also been concerned for his friend and wingmate R'till,
who was injured in a flying accident that left him amnesiac. F'hlan has
suffered this same kind of trauma himself, and, knowing what it's like,
he has fetched from the Smithhall R'till's young daughter Cetilla,
hoping that the lass will help spark her father back to his normal
self.
	Unfortunately for F'hlan, he has been tied up enough in his
new renegade-tracking duties that he hasn't really noticed that his
oldest child, Fahloran, has had a rather different reaction to this
girl's arrival at the Weyr....

----------
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:
Tzornth(#742IMQaeqs)
Wriggling Mass
Aeyri(#9556IMes)
Obvious exits:
Quarters  Bowl

F'hlan plants himself by his dragon, surrounded by a pile of parchments. He 
  has, in fact, dozed off, having been up way late working.

Fahloran frowns more than usual today, his large brown eyes slightly 
  narrowed when he looks at his father.

Anra comes in from the bowl, dirt streaks down her cheeks, and sand pouring 
  from her shoes. She announces her presence with a loud, "Hi Da, hi Momma!"

Tzornth slits open an eye as Fahloran enters the weyr. Up on their usual 
  ledge, F'hlan's four green fire lizards are ddozing, too.

F'hlan jerks his head up, blearily, muttering, "They're in Valley... wha?"

Fahloran stares at his father, not saying a word.

Melora hugs her daughter, "shhhh. daddy's napping..."

F'hlan leans forward stiffly, winces -- shards, did he fall asleep out 
  here? -- and mutters, "I'm awake... I'm awake... what time is it?"

Tzornth SNORTS, by way of relaying information to his rider. His rider 
  blinks up at him, then at the shaft of light pouring in from the outside, 
  and looks round. "Ah... hello," he says, gruffly.

Melora says "You've slept a while, love. you were up late...""

Fahloran mutters to himself, "Too bad he didn't sleep all of yesterday." He 
  goes to sit in a far corner of the weyr.

F'hlan shoves a hand through his rumpled hair, and stiffly gets to his 
  feet. "Aye. New assignment..." He smiles at Anra, and then blinks at 
  Fahloran. "Son?"

Anra hugs her mother's leg, and keeps talking at her normal level, "Why's 
  'e always sleeping? He never plays with me anymore..."

Melora hugs Anra, "He's been very busy lately, sweetling... It's not that 
  he doesn't *want* to play with you."

Anra peers over at her brother, "An'

F'hlan leans over to fuzzle a hand across Anra's mop, and tells her, 
  "Promise I'll play when I get the report to P'tran. It's important, 
  hatchlet."

Anra says "An' why's he like that?" She clambers up on top of the hides to 
  plunk down next to her Da, "C'n I help?""

Fahloran ignores his family.

F'hlan looks past Melora and Anra, frowning at his son's slumped posture. 
  He flicks Melora a look then, eyebrows going up.

Fahloran sits with his back to everyone, arms holding his legs to his chest.

Anra wanders over to her brother and magnamimously offers, "Wanna come 
  swimmin with me and Yaz later?"

Fahloran looks over his shoulder. "Will there be anyone else there?"

F'hlan hobbles over to Fahloran, trying to stretch his bad leg as he does, 
  then crouches carefully nearby. "Son... what's wrong?"

Anra scrunches up her nose, and rubs the back of her hand against it, 
  "N'sure. Maybe."

Fahloran shrugs away from his father. "Nothing," he snaps.

F'hlan's face turns very still; his son has never taken that tone with him 
  before.

Anra looks between her Da and her brother, and tries again, "D'you want me 
  to invite anyb'dy? We could go now..."

Fahloran concentrates on his sister. "No, just the three of us is fine, 
  Anra."

F'hlan finally says, gruffly, "Well, if... 'nothing' turns out to be a 
  problem, you can talk to me." He rises, turning away; only Melora can see 
  that his gaze has turned troubled and hurt.

Melora goes over and puts her arm on F'hlan's shoulder, murmuring something 
  into his ear...

Fahloran sighs, shoulders slumping.

Anra nods, grinning, "Okay! C'n Dirt come too though, cause she likes to 
  play..."

Melora mutters to F'hlan, "He's... that... girl"... Weyr, dear..."
Melora whispers "He's up set that you brought "another useless girl" into 
  the Weyr, dear..."

Fahloran turns around to face his parents. "Fa (voice cracks) ther..."

Anra looks over, and calls to her parents, "I know what's wrong! He's gotta 
  sore throat and he don't want t'go see the healer!" She's gleefully tattling.

F'hlan, who has just blinked liquidly at Melora's whisper, turns his gaze 
  back to Fahloran. His head rises, just a bit, at Fahloran's tone, but he 
  answers readily, "Son?"

Melora says quietly, "I don't think it's a sore throat, dear..." She's 
  heard a rather large number of young male apprentices with just such "sore 
  throats" before...

Fahloran looks at his father, large brown eyes hurt and pleading. "Why did 
  you have to bring the (voice cracks) girl now?"

Anra's eyebrows knit together, "Whaddya mean momma? He's not gonna get 
  really sick is he?"

F'hlan flicks a perplexed look from Melora to Fahloran, and then, abruptly, 
  cognizance flickers into the bronze rider's expression. He limps a step or 
  two back towards his children, and offers, "Cetilla... is R'till's daughter. 
  R'till needs her, son; he still can't remember things, completely, including 
  her. I... have been hoping it'd help him." He pauses, then adds 
  forthrightly, glancing at Melora, "Having Melora helped me... when it 
  happened to me."

Melora reassures Anra, "No dear. Sounds to me like his voice is changing... 
  It won't hurt him, sweetling. All boys go through it."

Anra says "Changing inta what?"

Fahloran frowns at his mother, talking about him like he was like all boys. 
  To his father he says, "I know, father, (voice cracks) but why did it have 
  to be now, when I sound like (voice cracks) this?"

Melora says to Anra, "Well, his voice will get deeper. It'll probably sound 
  more like daddy's that it does now..."
Melora glances at Fahloran, comprehension flooding her. "It won't be that 
  way too long, sweetling, and it'll sound much more impressive when it's 
  settled than it did before...."

F'hlan blinks a time or two, studying Fahloran, finding him looking 
  suspiciously like what he's been told _he_ looks like, when he's upset. At a 
  loss for a words, he struggles inwardly for a moment, before turning his 
  hands palm up and admitting meekly, "I had no idea, Fahloran. I've had my 
  head in P'tran's renegade reports, since he wants me to lead the patrols..."

Anra blinks up at her momma, large blue eyes full of consternation, "Wjy?"
Anra says "Why?"

Melora says thoughtfully, "It's just something that happens to boys as they 
  get older, and turn into men..."

Fahloran sighs and for no real good reason begins to cry. "It is... 
  sniffle... bad enough they tease me (voice cracks) about Sayla... now this 
  girl, too."

Anra is about to ask more questions when she spies her brother crying. This 
  shakes her, she brings to fingers up to her mouth to suck on, and holds 
  tight to her momma's hand.

Tzornth shifts around slightly, studying this human tableau before him. He 
  rumbles very quietly, as his eyes whirl a faint, blue-tinged yellow. F'hlan 
  glances at the bronze for a moment, murmurs something at him, then blinks 
  several times as Fahloran breaks into tears.

F'hlan gives Melora an anxious 'Help me out here?' look, as he inches back 
  to the youngsters.

Melora holds onto Anra's hand reassuringly, and tries to gauge if a 
  mother-hug would help, or merely prove to be more humiliating. She makes a 
  tentative motion towards Fahloran.

Fahloran suddenly jumps up and throws his arms around his mother, sobbing.

Melora holds her son tightly to her, rocking him gently, and making 
  soothing noises.... "Hush, love... it'll be all right, you'll see..."

Anra is quite upset by this whole scene, dropping her momma's hands and 
  running over to hide behind her Da, face peeking around the side of his leg.

Fahloran sniffles, "I... sound... (voice cracks) like one of... the 
  porcines."

F'hlan steps close enough to hover uncertainly, his own eyes not quite as 
  liquid as Fahloran's, but expressively bemused. When Anra ducks behind him, 
  he carefully kneels, and turns to put an arm around her.

Melora says gently, "You won't sound that way for long, sweetling. Try to 
  remember it's just part of growing up... I'll bet you'll have a fine voice 
  when it settles..." She says this last with harper authority.

F'hlan, his arm around Anra now, looks earnestly up at his weyrmate and his 
  son.

Fahloran rubs his nose, his sobs coming less now. "I know, mother," he says 
  in a careful whisper.

Anra clings to her Da, looking considerably younger than she usually does.

Fahloran rubs his eyes with one hand, while still clinging to his mother 
  with his arm. He looks much more at ease being the one coddled at this 
  moment.

F'hlan hugs Anra gently, watching the others as he does. Trying to think, 
  frantically, of something appropriate to say -- he's advised troubled 
  wingmembers before, but troubled children? -- he half-smiles, and says 
  sheepishly, "Rillawy and her sibs let me have it, when my voice changed at 
  Tillek..."

Fahloran blinkblinks at his father, a small smile forming on his face. 
  "You... you sounded like (voice cracks) me?"

Melora smiles at F'hlan, though she still holds Fahloran close to her. 
  "Every lad who grew to manhood sounded like you at some point, sweeting. 
  Your father, P'tran..." she tries to think of who else Fahloran might 
  identify with...

Fahloran blinks at P'tran's name.

Anra removes her fingers from her mouth, "Did F'nar?"

Melora nodnods, "even F'nar, and see what his voice is like now?"
Melora says, "And the legends, too, like F'lar, and Robinton..."

Fahloran looks much more relieved. "I guess I was (voice cracks) being 
  silly." He looks at his father. "I am sorry."

Anra seems less insecure now, wriggling away from her Da.

F'hlan smiles hesitantly. "Aye," he agrees, "I went through this." His gaze 
  warms, at the apology. "Accepted," he says, without hesitation.

Fahloran lets go of his mother and hugs his father fiercely. "I didn't mean 
  to let you down, father," he whispers.

Melora throws F'hlan a relieved look, and hugs her son and lets him go. 
  "And I'd appreciate it, dear, if you'd be nice to Cetilla? She doesn't know 
  ayone here yet, and we hoped you might help show her about and introduce her 
  to people?"

Fahloran nods to his mother, though he doesn't look terribly enthusiastic 
  about it.

F'hlan hugs Fahloran firmly with his free arm. "I'll consider it a reminder 
  to tell you all about these things, before I do them," he says, kindly.

Anra tilts her head and looks up to her brother, "'s she mean 'r something?"

Melora smiles a bit, "Thank you, dear, I knew we could count on you to help 
  her out a bit."

Fahloran looks at Anra, smiling finally. "She's a girl. Enough (voice 
  cracks) said."
Fahloran lets go of his father and holds out his hand to Anra. "Let's go 
  get some cookies and then go swimming."

Anra nods knowingly, "'s why I'm glad Yaz and Isha's my best friends."

F'hlan smiles at the children now, relieved.

Anra takes the hand and grins, "C'n we bring bubblies to the lake?"

Fahloran grins at the word 'bubblies'. "Of course," he says cheerfully."

Anra grins even more brightly, leading the way.
Anra heads down the low steps to the Bowl outside.
Anra has left.

F'hlan rises, slowly, as the children make their plans.

Melora watches them leave fondly. then turns to F'hlan, "And to think 
  Mehlani'll be that age all too soon," she says.

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

F'hlan flicks Melora a crooked grin, and murmurs, "Don't think her voice'll 
  crack..."

Melora says, "no, but there'll be other concerns.... Not sure which is 
  worse. I've never been an adolescent boy...."

[End log.]