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:
	12/29/97

Log Cast:
	Jorenan, Mehlani, Ofira, Ro, Ceria, Kassima, E'rian (NPC), Starraj,
J'lyn

Log Intro:
	It would seem that no matter what she might think about the matter,
Mehlani is simply doomed to deal with matters involving Boys. If it's not
everyone around her -- not only the adults and the youngsters her age, but
even the _children_ -- discussing interactions between the sexes, it's
adults dropping extremely disturbing hints that Mehlani should notice this
Boy or that, sometimes even whispering amongst themselves while she's in
the vicinity. It's started to get to the point that the poor lass is
nervous around any young male she happens to encounter, and it particularly
isn't helping that one of them, Jorenan, seems to be awfully prominent in
Ofira's conversation to Mehlani as of late....

----------
     Your location's current time: 15:23 on day 6, month 4, Turn 21, of the 
Tenth Pass. It is a spring afternoon. 

     Jorenan looks up from his preparation of a flour mixture. He grins at 
Mehlani and says, "Hullo." 

     Mehlani dashes in from outside, a touch breathless; she is sans coat, and 
looks a trifle chilled, to say the least. As she hits the warmth of the cavern 
she stops a moment, as if adjusting to the temperature shift, and then she 
bobs her head to the young baker. 

     "You forgot your coat," observes Jorenan. Yep, he's with it today. 
"What're you in such a rush about?" He foregoes mentioning anything about 
catching her death of a cold. She's old enough to figure that out for herself, 
after all, and he's not going to treat her like a child. Grown-ups have plenty 
of opportunity for that, after all. 

     Mehlani reports solemnly, "It's snowing." She moves rather quickly to the 
hearth, drawn by the warmth. 

     "I noticed," agrees Jorenan. "When I was out to check on a new tithe that 
came in earlier." 

     Mehlani blows out a soft breath as she stands there with her arms wrapped 
about herself by the fire, and bobs her head again. Her face is slowly 
regaining normal color, or at least normal color sans her frequent blushes. 

     "You never said why you were out without a coat," Jorenan reminds 
Mehlani. "Just for the fun of getting your clothes full of snow?" 

     Mehlani blinks and looks over. "It wasn't snowing when I went outside," 
she answers simply. 

     Jorenan blinks back at Mehlani. "Been out for a while, then?" he asks. He 
goes on with his careful mixing of flour and other things. Now he starts 
cutting in some kind of fat. Must be making pie crusts again. 

     The lass nods gravely. She's silent for a moment, then she ventures, as 
if perhaps remembering that conversations _do_ usually involve both parties 
talking, "I had to go visit Tsornin." 

     A slow grin wanders across Jorenan's face, and he nods encouragingly. 
Conversational skills have to be practiced, and not everyone grew up in the 
talkative family he did. "Tsornin? I don't think I know who that is." 

     "Master Caitria's runner," murmurs Mehlani. 

     Jorenan says, "Ah. She's a friend of yours? Master Caitria, that is." He 
continues cutting fat into the huge bowl of flour, salt, and other things. 

     Mehlani's head tilts slightly; she is, perhaps, a trifle taken aback by 
the question, as though the matter had never been under her consideration. She 
finally nods, though. 

     Jorenan glances up, and thus actually sees Mehlani's nod. "S'good to have 
friends," he says agreeably. "How long have you known her?" Probably the 
answer isn't all that important. It's the continued conversation that he's 
interested in. 

     Mehlani considers this, too. And murmurs lowly, turning slightly away 
from the hearth now that warmth is being restored to her body, "Since I was 
very small... six Turns. Perhaps seven." 

     Jorenan nods. "That's more than a friend, then. Does she know your 
parents well?" 

     Mehlani's arms lessen their grip around herself, and she sinks into a 
nearby chair. She isn't quite meeting Jorenan's eyes, though she answers 
readily enough, "Father more than Mother... since Mother is often at the 
Harper Hall." 

     It's just as well Mehlani's not meeting his eyes, because Jorenan's 
mostly concentrating on the flour and glancing up only occasionally. He nods, 
though, and says, "That makes sense. Caitria's a Beastcraft Master, yes? 
Perhaps you'll want that Craft." 

     "Master Caitria," murmurs Mehlani, sounding less than sure about the 
concept, "has told me I should be a Herder." 

     "You don't so sure about that yourself," Jorenan says. "Too many options 
and everyone wants to pull you in the direction they want, is that the 
problem?" 

     _That_ seems to startle her; Mehlani starts to nod, surprisingly readily, 
but it occurs to her that Jorenan isn't looking directly at her. She blurts 
instead, "Yes... yes, exactly!" 

     Jorenan looks up, a smile wandering across his face. "I know that 
feeling," he agrees. "Everyone thought I should to what -they- did when I was 
young. Except for Mum, who said I should do what it turned out I was good at 
and liked." He grins. "She didn't mind that I didn't know, and let me figure 
it out for myself." 

     Mehlani smiles hesitantly, a touch wonderingly, and bobs her head. 
"Yes... that is what my father says." 

     "Well, your father's right, I think," Jorenan says. "I travelled for 
parts of two Turns with my Uncle, who's a Trader. That gave me lots of time to 
think about what I wanted to do. And not do. Being a Trader definitely wasn't 
it!" 

     "I don't think I'd be a very good Trader," Mehlani muses, softly. 

     Jorenan chuckles. "I was all right at the Trading, but I didn't like the 
moving around." He shrugs a little, and admits, "I'm a homebody, I suppose. I 
like knowing where I'm going to sleep and who's going to be there when I wake 
up." 

     Mehlani smiles a little to this, as well, nodding. "Yes..." she murmurs 
again. Her gaze has turned thoughtful, though this is not unusual for her. 

     Jorenan glances up at Mehlani, and grins. "Yes what?" he asks quietly. 
"Yes, you're a homebody too, or yes something else?" 

     Oh, she's supposed to keep talking? Um. Mehlani clarifies hesitantly, "I 
guess that I am a... homebody." 

     She is indeed supposed to keep talking, though she probably didn't 
realize it. That's all right. Jorenan seems to enjoy the battle for the 
conversation's life. "It must've been hard, then," he says, "leaving Benden to 
come here." He finishes mixing the pie crusts, and begins rolling them out on 
a large board. 

     Mehlani's eyes turn a trifle liquid, at that. She stares into the space 
before her for a moment, then gravely nods. And only after a pause does she 
murmur, "Yes..." 

     Ofira walks here from the Inner Cavern. 

     A quiet breath is the only sign that perhaps Jorenan had hoped for more 
out that that conversational sally. He finishes one pie crust and starts on 
another. Perhaps, however, that tack was too emotionally charged. He tries 
another. "But you get to visit now and again, yes?" 

     Ofira comes in, arms laden with a large, lumpy package. Seeing her 
apprentice and Mehlani, she smiles benignly and steers clear of them to find a 
seat near a table. 

     Mehlani bobs her head soberly. "Father... has many fire lizards, and 
sends me letters. And Holl knows how to find him..." 

     Jorenan nods. "That's good," he agrees. "My Da has a green that he sends 
notes with sometimes. I try to have one ready to send back, since I haven't 
got one of my own." He nods to Ofira, and then looks somewhat surprised when 
she doesn't join him. A slightly worried frown crosses his face. Does he smell 
bad or something? He just says, "Good afternoon, ma'am," though. 

     Mehlani glances up as Ofira enters the room, and only bobs her head to 
the woman, silently. Whoops, grownup alert. Time for Mehlani to hide under her 
shell. 

     Ofira looks up from unwrapping the package, "Oh, 'afternoon." Talk about 
bad smells - an awful one emanates from the bundle. 

     As the smell wafts across the room, Jorenan suddenly looks happy not to 
be so close to Master Ofira. His nose crinkles up, and he asks, "Ma'am, what 
-is- that?" He notices Mehlani's sudden silence, and doesn't seem at all 
surprised by it. He just grins at her, his expression a little wry. 

     Ofira smiles, "Oh, some very rare, aged cheese from Fort. Isn't it 
magnificent!" 

     Jorenan shudders a little. "Uhm. Yes ma'am. If you like that kind of 
thing. What..." he pauses, and tries to think of something polite to say about 
it. "What are you going to do with it? It smells awfully strong for most of 
the recipes that call for cheese." 

     Mehlani blinkblinks over at the cheese, her nose crinkling. 

     Ofira nearly fondles the cheese, "Oh, well, we could just serve bits of 
it with fine wines. Really, it's best suited for that. But I may try a few 
appetizeers - cheese crackers or the like- with it." 

     Jorenan swallows and nods. "Yes'm, perhaps for the wingleaders' meeting 
or something?" Some important occasion when he won't be eating, just serving. 
That would be perfect. 

     Ofira nods thoughtfully, "Actually, I got it for the Igen Hold 
handfasting, but I think I should take some of it off for our weyrleaders and 
wingleaders, now that you mention it Jorenan." 

     Mehlani scoots back towards the hearth a little, in the chair she's 
claimed, keeping silent as the Bakers discuss that... aromatic object. 

     Jorenan nods. "That sounds like a fine idea, ma'am." He looks relieved. 
He won't have to eat the stuff. "Will you be needing help for the handfasting, 
ma'am?" 

     Ofira nods to Jorenan, "I definitely will be. I'm going to be going over 
there a lot in the next sevendays, planning the arrangements and all. I'll 
want you to come with me, you and Ceria, and probably a few others." 

     Jorenan nods. "Aye, ma'am. We'll be ready. I've just finished a new 
apron. I'll save it for then." 

     Ofira nods approvingly, "Excellent. A new apron. Such industry!" She 
looks over at Mehlani, to make sure she's taking note of all this good 
apprentice behavior. 

     Mehlani, probably not surprisingly, has averted her gaze to the 
hearth-fire. Considering the slightly pensive, thoughtful air she's taken on, 
it's questionable whether she's noticed the good apprentice behavior in 
question. 

     Jorenan has finished rolling out the pie crusts, and, in another fit of 
good apprentice behaviour, says, "I had best take these into the kitchens and 
get started on filling them." 

     Ofira smiles and gets up, re-wrapping the cheese. "No, no. You sit right 
there and keep Mehlani company. I can certainly manage to fill a few pie 
crusts." 

     Mehlani _does_ look up, then, blurting, "I do not want to distract him 
from his duties, Master Ofira..." 

     Jorenan blinks at Ofira as if she's lost her mind, which he appears to 
think she has. "Uh. Ma'am. This is the pie crusts for recipe number 248... You 
said I had to do all of those myself? remember?" 

     Ofira smiles indulgently, "248, 249, whatever. I think I remember how it 
goes." 

     Jorenan mumbles something incoherent. And then takes a deep breath. 
"Ma'am," he tries again. "I need to learn these recipes. You won't be there to 
finish it when I'm posted to the back of beyond and the Holder's dinner is 
waiting on me getting it done." He's picked up the pie crusts and is edging 
towards the kitchens as he speaks. Maybe he doesn't know quite what's gotten 
into Ofira, but adolescents have good instincts about these things. Mehlani 
gets a faintly regretful look. He would have liked to finish the conversation, 
under other circumstances. 

     Ro walks in from the lower caverns with a bit of a yawn. 

     Mehlani, looking a trifle unsettled, glances back at Jorenan. He seems to 
_want_ to go into the kitchen; far be it from her to prevent him, after all, 
she understands Duties! She says nothing, however, shy to interfere in the 
business of a master and her apprentice. 

     Ofira sighs, "Alright Jorenan, go on then. We can discuss the cheese 
later." 

     Jorenan fairly dashes into the kitchens, unnerved beyond belief. It 
doesn't really matter what Ofira just said. Something weird's going on here, 
even if he has no idea what it is. The comment about staying with Mehlani 
suddenly hammers its way into his skull. You can tell by the way he stumbles 
and then stares at Mehlani in sudden terror. Over his shoulder, he says a 
stuttering, "Ah-Aye, Ma'am," and is gone. 
     Jorenan walks off towards the kitchen. 

     From the kitchen, Jorenan enters the kitchen from the living cavern. 
     From the kitchen, Jorenan sits down on a spartan cot. 

     Mehlani might be staying out of the conversation, but she does note that 
abrupt panic in Jorenan's expression, and she cringes tinily where she sits. 
Oh dear. 

     Ofira tsks lightly and looks knowingly at Mehlani, "He's nervous around 
you," she smiles. 

     Ceria walks here from the Inner Cavern. 

     Ofira looks up and smiles, thrusting the package at Ceria, "Look what 
came!" 

     Ceria walks in with a smile for those she knows. She walks over to Ofira 
and wrinkles her nose. "How...nice," she says. 

     Mehlani can be seen to swallow. She flicks a wide-eyed gaze up at Ofira, 
manages a momentary wisp of a smile, and once Ceria arrives on the scene -- 
providing a welcome distraction -- the girl starts surreptitiously eying the 
cavern for an escape route. 

     Ceria looks at you for a moment. 

     Ofira nods, unwrapping the cheese again for Ceria's examination, "Look 
how fine that is! Nothing but the best for the Lord Holder of Igen, 
apparently." 

     Ceria blinks at the cheese and then looks at Ofira. "Igen?" she says. 

     Ofira nods, "He told me spare no expense for the handfasting, so I 
ordered this cheese. I'll be wanting you to assist on that handfasting, by the 
way." 

     Ro looks up "Are you going to the handfasting, 'fira?" 

     Ofira smiles at Ro, blushing faintly, "Oh, no. Certainly not. But I'm 
working on the catering for the Lord Holder of Igen's handfasting." 

     Mehlani stands silently, trying without much success to keep herself from 
blushing. Oh good. They're talking... never mind that it's about a 
handfasting, which implies a man and a woman... well, never mind. The 
important hing is, they're talking, and maybe she can flee unobserved. 

     Ceria smiles at Ofira. "I'd be happy to help with it," she says. 

     Ofira nods, "You'll have to go over to their Hall with me sometime. I 
need to see how many tables there'll be and what sizes of table linen we'll 
need and choose the colors and then make sure we have enough coordination 
plate..." she rambles on. 

     Ceria nods and listens dutifully to Ofira, trying to remember everything 
she's saying. 

     While the Masterbaker rambles, Mehlani edges towards the Bowl. Never mind 
that she doesn't have a jacket on, either. If she runs _really_ fast, she can 
make it to the Records Room without getting _too_ cold... 

     Ofira glances over at Mehlani, who seems poised to run off, "Of course, 
Jorenan will be helping too. He's very responsible for an apprentice. " 
Clearly, she's forgotten that responsibility isn't what most young girls are 
looking for in a man. 

     Ceria follows Ofira's gaze over to Mehlani. She nods. "I always enjoy 
working with Jorenan," she comments. 

     Ofira smiles at Ceria, "Did you meet my niece yet, by the way?" 

     Mehlani freezes in her tracks at the mention of Jorenan, then realizes 
belatedly that wasn't directed at her, or at least so she _thinks_, missing 
the glances at her. That means she doesn't have to stop! Out she goes, 
clinging with one hand to the battered brown hat K'star gave her. 

[As Mehlani flees out for the dubious shelter of the Records Room -- dubious,
 since she is not at all certain if she is comfortable with the fact that
 K'star seems to have made a habit of hiding in there lately -- she is
 mercifully unaware of Ofira's commentary once she is gone...]

Telgar LC> Ofira watches the girl go thoughtfully and then says to Ceria, 
"What do you think?" 

Telgar LC> Ceria turns her gaze back to Ofira. "Think?" she says. "About 
what, ma'am?" 

Telgar LC> Ofira mutters to Ceria, "... I... she'd... him.... who... her 
duty." 

Telgar LC> Ceria looks surprised by Ofira's comment. "I believe that's up 
to them to decide, ma'am," she says. 

Telgar LC> Ofira nods, "Oh, well of course. But everyone could use some 
guidance in making a good choice. " She gives Ceria a meaningful look. 

Telgar LC> Ceria blushes. "I...Well..." she stammers. 

Telgar LC> Ofira sighs a litle, getting up, "Well, I can't sit here all 
day. I have wines to choose and appetizers to plan and pies to check on! See 
you whenyour break is over , Ceria." 

Telgar LC> Ceria heads over to the klah pot after nodding to Ofira. 

Telgar LC> Ofira walks off towards the kitchen. 
Telgar LC> From the kitchen, Ofira enters the kitchen from the living cavern. 

Telgar LC> Ceria takes her mug of klah to the lower caverns. 
Telgar LC> Ceria walks towards the inner cavern. 

[After a while, hoping that Ofira is gone, Mehlani gets brave enough to
 sneak back into the living cavern -- it is, after all, cold out, despite
 the fact that it's supposed to be springtime!]

You walk past the lintel and into the wide living cavern. 
Telgar Weyr's Living Cavern(#750RJM$) 
     This huge cavern is sufficently roomy to hold a large portion of the 
Weyr's population without feeling cramped. There's always a bustle of activity 
here. Fragrant dishes are constantly in prepartion for mealtimes: currently 
for the evening meal. Drudges are always present, either cleaning under 
Pierron's watchful eye, or helping fetch and carry. A myriad of glowbaskets 
and many ever-lit hearths make the cavern warm and inviting despite its size. 
The scents of cooking meats, baking breads and pastries, and the pungent aroma 
of spices hang mouthwateringly in the air. It is little wonder that those 
seeking to relax nearly always find their way here to do it. The tables are 
decorated with a multitude of bright spring flowers. 
     A short tunnel jaunts northward out to the bowl and the merry sounds of 
cooking, chores, and laughter echo from the kitchen at the southeast end of 
the cavern near the easterly passage to the rest of the lower caverns. Within 
the lower caverns is an entrance to the infirmary weyr to care for injured 
dragons and riders. 
Contents: 
Obvious exits: 
Lower Caverns  Kitchen  Bowl 

     Mehlani sneaks cautiously in from the Bowl, her face flushed with the 
cold outside, and peeks around before she ventures in entirely. 

     Kassima walks in from the bowl. 

     "For 'twas a verdict, after all, that none wished t'refute... though no 
one could imagine why she'd try to eat her lute," Kassi's relatively melodic 
voice can be heard to sing as the greenrider herself walks in, happily 
jangling her marks pouch. By the wooden clinks audible from within, it must be 
rather full. Behind her follows a rather smug-looking E'rian. "Listen to that 
sound! Have you ever heard one fairer?" Kassi asks, listening to the marks 
clink. "Eyr, I owe you one. Or two. Just don't be in any hurry to collect, eh? 
I need these t'pay off the last of that debt I owe Simian for m'tapestry. 
G'deve, all!" 

     Mehlani has returned to the hearth, as long as the living cavern appears 
to be relatively Ofira-Free. Looking rather frazzled, the lass has sunk down 
onto the floor, her hat in her hands, and she starts at the sound of Kassima's 
voice. 

     Ro sends a quiet smile Kassi's way before getting herself a mug of cider. 

     E'rian grins as roguishly as ever, and bows to his cousin. "No problem, 
Kassi. Just leave them with enough marks for me to win a few, hey?" Laughing, 
the Wingsecond nods and plunks her mark-pouch down at her table as she lowers 
herself into the chair she usually occupies; she's too unwieldy to just flop 
into it anymore. Eyr, beaming broadly, leaves the other rider to approach 
Mehlani's seat by the hearth. "Hey, 'Lani. You look as ravishing as ever, but 
I fear that stress almost--almost, mind!--detracts a tad from the beauty of 
your features. I believe," he announces, pulling a black velvet box from one 
pocket, "I may have just the cure for you." 

     Mehlani rather visibly starts at E'rian's approach, mumbling out a 
"H-hello" at him before she starts again. What? 

     The young greenrider winks at the lass, spinning the box around deftly on 
one forefinger before tossing it up in the air, catching it, and proferring it 
to 'Lani with a low bow. "'Tis not flowers, fair maid, but I hope you'll still 
accept it in the spirit it's given: a lovely thing for a lovely young lady. 
Open it, why don't you?" Over in her chair, Kassi just rolls her eyes. 
Discreetly, of course. 

     Mehlani gets slowly to her feet, first blinking at E'rian's first few 
words, her brow furrowing -- what about flowers? She then proceeds to get 
noticeably rose-hued as the lad racks up three compliments to her looks in 
less than five minutes, and all she manages to say is a slightly strangled, 
"You... didn't have to..." 

     "Well, of *course* not," Eyr replies easily. "It wouldn't be a true gift 
if I were obligated to give it to you, now would it? Silly. That's the whole 
*idea*. Take it, take it; the sooner I know whether it catches your fancy, the 
sooner I can learn whether or not I shall have to take it back and seek for 
something more fitting to your beauty." 

     That's four. Mehlani progresses from rose towards maroon, staring at 
E'rian more than a little warily, finding it difficult to believe this boy's 
effusiveness. _He sounds like a Harper,_ she thinks blankly. Then she 
swallows, and in an attempt to salvage her composure and at least be polite, 
she accepts the box, to open it with trepidation. 

     Within the black velvet box is nestled a simple, yet elegant pendant of 
silver and opal. The fine, filigreed chain seems almost too delicate to hold 
onto the jewel, which is roughly the size of a lady's fingernail and is 
surrounded by a flowing design of the brilliant metal. The opal itself is a 
gleaming, milky white which shines with a multitude of fiery rainbow sparks 
when turned just *so* in the light. "I got that because it reminds me of you," 
E'rian explains, grinning from ear to ear. "Pure of taint and lovely, in a 
quiescent way... but hiding a wealth of secret fire behind that quiet 
exterior." He winks again. Eyr seems to enjoy winking at Mehlani. 

     It's ill-mannered to gape, but Mehlani comes close, her eyes turning as 
round as marks, her mouth forming a silent, thunderstruck 'o'. She stares hard 
at the pendant, wondering if she's hallucinating, then lifts her astonished 
gaze to the rider to who gave it to her. 

     E'rian's dark brown brows arch over his hazel eyes, anticipation easily 
seen within; he's not bothering to hide his hopes that 'Lani will like the 
gift. "Will it suit you, m'lady? Considering how many marks I've been winning 
with those fine, lucky dice that were gifted from your hand... well, it simply 
didn't seem *right* not to give you some measure of benefit from the bounty. A 
token of my appreciation, you might say... of the gifts, and of the one who 
gave them." 

     Kassima just shakes her head from where she's contentedly counting out 
her marks, trying not to cluck over them like an excited chicken. "I wonder 
if'n Tariani isn't related to Jh'rin somehow..." she can be heard to murmur. 

     'Lani has enough trouble speaking her mind as it is; here and now, she 
appears to have lost the power of speech entirely. Her mouth opens and shuts a 
few times, and she finally babbles out, "I... this is... this is lovely! I-I-I 
couldn't possibly we-- it's too... I..." She's still looking thunderstruck, 
and perhaps even a little frightened; there's a certain uncomprehension to her 
gaze, as if she can't grasp why this beautiful object has been offered to 
_her_. 

     Another smile flits across E'rian's face, the dimple in his cheek 
deepening a bit. "Ah, 'Lani, 'tis really not so big a deal. I'm related to the 
Jewelrycrafter who made it by marriage; it wasn't so expensive as you're 
thinking, I warrant. And though it may not be diamonds or rubies, I think no 
stone could suit you better." 

     Starraj says "hi" 
     Starraj says "hello there!" 

     "But... I... it..." Mehlani swallows hard, her cheeks still darkly 
flushed, and risks a peek up at the green rider -- looking, perhaps, for some 
sign in E'rian's expression of why, exactly, he's presented her with this 
gorgeous bauble. Okay, Mehlani; breathe. Think about this. Kes _said_ his 
brother doesn't mean to upset her, right? So he means well, surely... right? 
And even if the last time she got a piece of jewelry as a gift was when she 
was much smaller, even if E'rian is rather more... eloquent... in his 
presentation than Devlin, if it's offered in a spirit of friendship... She 
swallows again and murmurs tinily, "Th-thank you..." 

     Starraj walks in from the guest quarters 

     Kassima is sitting at her Wing's table, clucking over a sizeable pile of 
marks, while a young greenrider who bears perhaps some very, very vague 
resemblance to her speaks with Mehlani. That would be E'rian. His expression 
is one, simply, of delight in surprising the girl and some unsuccessfully 
surpressed hope--that she'll like the gift, probably. "Quite welcome, fair 
maid. Quite welcome indeed. If you like it, though, then your happiness is all 
the thanks I require." 

     Starraj waves 

     Kassima wiggles her fingers absently to the newcomer, not looking up from 
her marks as she counts and sorts them. "These will go for the tapestry; 
these, towards K'tyn's knife...." E'rian is by far too distracted by Mehlani 
to notice the rest of the Cavern at all. 

     J'lyn walks in from the bowl. 

     Kassima looks up and waves cheerfully to her wingmate, beckoning her 
co-Wingsecond over to the Wing's table. "Hey, Jal! Get a look at all of these 
marks, would you? E'rian taught me a few things about poker--you wouldn't 
believe how big a change a few new tricks can make!" 

     J'lyn chuckles. "Kassi, I think I'll stay far away from you and a poker 
table for a very long time." 

     Kassima wrinkles her nose at J'lyn, sweeping the larger portion of mark 
pieces back into the pouch. "Feh, I say. Would you begrudge me the marks I 
need t'pay off a debt I owe a certain Crafter, or to buy Kiat a Turnday gift? 
Speaking of which, have you picked up your gift for him yet?" 

     Ro perks up "When is his turnday, Kassi? Should I get something for him?" 

     "In five days," Kassi promptly replies, grinning. "He'll be twenty and 
six. I doubt he'd mind if'n you did, Ro, though 'tis nay *required* or aught. 
I've commissioned a bronze knife for him, m'self; I'm going t'see if'n Kin or 
someone mightn't be willing to chip in a few marks for it." 

     J'lyn grins, and nods. "Aye, lassie, that I have," he says, dragging his 
voice to sound like an almost-parody of Kassi's accent. "It's oop en me weyr. 
And I'm sure ta b'lieving he'll be a lovin' it." 

     Ro lapses into deep thought, her brow furrowed. She seems to cease to 
notice things around her as she tries to think of something to get or to make. 

     Still standing there by the hearth, before the broadly grinning E'rian, 
Mehlani stares wide-eyedly at the velvet box cradled in her palms, and the 
pendant nestled there in the velvet. She starts noticeably at J'lyn's arrival 
and the conversation that springs up, before she finally looks timidly back at 
the green rider before her. Her gaze still searches his face, her own nervous. 

     J'lyn peers downwards at Mehlani, an odd look on his face. 

     Some slight worry does manage to creep into E'rian's expression as the 
silence continues. "You... do like it, 'Lani, don't you?" he asks. 

     Kassima snorts in amusement at J'lyn's parody. "You need t'be listening 
t'me more closely if'n you've hopes t'become a true Kassi-impersonator, 
laddybuck. Methinks he'll find favor with my gift, too... or at least, I hope 
so. Y'know, I think four times out of five now, I've gotten him something made 
out of--or dyed--bronze?" 

     'Lani's admittedly nervous gaze turns utterly earnest as she blurts to 
E'rian, "It's lovely!" 

     E'rian tries not to show his relief too plainly as he nods. "I thought 
so. Which is why it suits you. Will you wear it, then, Mehlani? As a token of 
my esteem?" He gives 'Lani an entreating look, which proves that he must have 
been learning Kassi's trick with the baby canine eyes. 

     Mehlani's blue gaze remains on E'rian, and it's somewhat difficult to 
tell whether the lass gets more or less nervous at that pleading, soulful look 
he turns on her. But she nods, shy-struck, silent. 

     This time E'rian's relief is almost tangible. He grins broadly to the 
girl, and straightens. "In that case, m'lady, I fear that my other 
lady--Milleniuth--is requesting my presence immediately. Be sweet, all right? 
Not that 'tis any effort for you." With yet another wink--perhaps he has some 
sort of nervous tick?--the greenrider strolls outside with a last half-wave, 
half-salute to the Cavern in general. 

     As E'rian saunters off, Mehlani glances after him, timidly watching him 
go, then turns her still rather thunderstruck gaze to the box he'd given her 
and the pendant within. With tentative fingers she lifts the silver-and-opal 
bauble up a bit, letting it catch the light, and she stares at it in awe. 

     Kassima shakes her head in admiration as her cousin departs. "That lad 
never ceases to amaze me," she marvels. "I'truth, 'Lani, 'tis a beautiful 
trinket--nigh the equal of aught I own, save only for this." She fingers one 
of the charms on her necklace, the one made from a shard Lysseth's eggshell 
mounted in gold, and grins. 

     Amaze. Yes, that's a good word for what E'rian does to Mehlani. She 
glances after the departed lad once more before turning her bemused gaze to 
Kassima, to whom she nods, looking dazed. 

     J'lyn smirks at Mehlani's obvious discomfort. He mutters to Kassima, "... 
like... greenrider... end.... and that..." 

     "And methinks his heart's certes in the right place," Kassi further 
reassures the girl. "Methinks he's just caught on to the gifting craze in the 
family. You needn't fear him, really... any more than you'd fear any 
greenrider." 

     Kassima chuckles under her breath and lowers her voice to reply to the 
other Wingsecond. She mutters to J'lyn, "... greenriders do... I'll... Eyr... 
his heart... remain set on Mehlani... for now,... Though I've... Caverns' 
lasses... been... enough... lake... again!" 

     Aye, perhaps not, but there aren't any other green riders presenting her 
with opal pendants and calling her lovely every second or third sentence. 
Mehlani eyes Kassima dubiously, then swallows and finally frees the pendant 
from its box, letting it dangle in her fingers. She stares at it, wide-eyed. 

     An old, grizzled brownrider in the corner, evidently quite thoroughly 
sloshed, hiccups noisely and then leans over to 'confide' to Mehlani in an 
overly loud voice, "Tha' boy'sh got the right idea, lassh. 'Sallmost s'pretty 
as those eyes of yers." He proceeds to leer at her, drunkenly and obviously. 

     J'lyn scowls darkly at the drunken rider. NOBODY leers at 'Lani but 
himself. Wandering to the dirty old sot, he mumbles something about the 
rider's bedtime, and almost drags the man out of the LC. 

     If Mehlani had wings, she'd be airborne now; she very nearly jumps three 
feet into the air as it is, as she whirls around in the direction of the old 
rider. Turning two shades of crimson in succession, the girl very nearly also 
drops her pendant. Aghast, she gropes for it, to make sure the delicate thing 
doesn't tumble out of her grasp, and then she promptly whirls around and flees 
out into the Bowl. 

[And as Mehlani flees, she mercifully manages to miss the commentary on 
 _this_ departure, as well...]

Telgar LC> "Hey! I washn't fi-*hic*-nished admirin' her yet!" the older 
man yelps as he's dragged from the Cavern. 

Telgar LC> Kassima watches 'Lani flee the Cavern, and sighs. "That poor 
lass is going t'have to learn t'handle admiration better than that, if'n she 
doesn't want t'be fleeing from the Cavern rather frequently in the future." 

[And on Kassima's sage observation, we end log.]