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:
	9/21/97

Log Cast:
	(People) Dathon, Mehlani, Ceria, Makear, T'lar, Kindre, Asrai, M'kla,
Kassima, R'val

	(Dragons) Nicoth, Tzornth

Log Intro:
	Young Mehlani of Benden Weyr has begun to take after her father
F'hlan, with the Impression of her beloved bronze firelizard Holl. But there
is a distinct problem involved with being Impressed to a male firelizard when 
you're regularly near your father's female ones--a problem of which F'hlan 
is all too aware, and which he isn't about to let Mehlani face if he has 
anything to say about it. With his green Neme beginning to rise, he has 
ordered his bronze dragon Tzornth to force Holl to refrain chasing the green.
As a result, the firelizard is absolutely miserable, and the girl who looks
to him isn't exactly happy either. In shared misery, the girl and her pet
stumble into the Weyr's living cavern, where they fortunately find some 
comfort... not only from the two-footed denizens of the Weyr, but from one
of the larger four-footed, winged ones as well....

----------
You walk past the lintel and into the wide living cavern.
Benden Weyr's Living Cavern(#750RJ$)
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 
  Salless' 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. 
  Branches of evergreens and glistening winter berries are ornaments of the 
  season.
A short tunnel jaunts eastward out to the bowl and the merry sounds of 
  cooking, chores, and laughter echo from the kitchen at the southwest end of 
  the cavern near the westerly passage to the rest of the lower caverns. To 
  the southeast is an entrance to the infirmary weyr to care for injured 
  dragons and riders.
Contents:
Ceria
Dathon
Salless
Scrap of Hide
Athena(#9341V)
DRINKS, courtesy of Apprentice Suzot and Journeyman Enpici.
Obvious exits:
Lower Caverns  Kitchen  Bowl  

Dathon looks up, noticing the slight girl entering. He grins in welcome.

Looking uncharacteristically rumpled--her coat is askew and her hood is down, 
  revealing hair tousled and dampened with snow--Mehlani creeps into the 
  living cavern, her eyes huge in her small face. She is cradling bronze Holl 
  in her arms, and little Holl looks quite miserable, his eyes whirling 
  yellow, his hide off-color, and his head drooping along one of 'Lani's arms.

Ceria follows Dathon's gaze and nods to Mehlani.

From under Ceria's hair, Emmy cheeps concernedly at Holl.

From his perch on Dathon's shoulder, Lanzecki chirples in a sort of 
  sympathetic way. His pet's brow furrows in a "What happened?" expression.

Seeing Ceria and Dathon turn their gazes to her, Mehlani says plaintively, 
  "Hello..." There's something oddly distracted about the girl, and after she 
  speaks, she looks slowly about the cavern, as if looking for someone.

Ceria watches Mehlani for a moment. "What's wrong?" she finally asks softly.

Holl creels tinily, and as he does, Mehlani's eyes turn liquid and she 
  scritches the little creature with a single tender fingertip. Presumably to 
  Ceria--she doesn't actually look up--the lass murmurs, "Holl didn't catch 
  Neme, so he is very tired now. He came and found me in the Records Room. He 
  doesn't feel very good now." A veritable speech, for this quiet lass.

Ceria nods. "I see. I hope he feels better soon."

"I don't feel very good either," Mehlani announces, her little brow crinkled. 
  She looks oddly confused at her own words.

Ceria looks at Mehlani with concern. "Can I get you something?" she asks. 
  "Some klah or..." she trails off.

Dathon nods. "She'd need that, I think." With a solicitous sort of expression, 
  he rises, Lanzecki cheeping madly at the bumpy ride, and heads to the hearth 
  to fill another mug of klah.

Mehlani blinks owlishly, still cradling Holl very close against her chest. "I 
  think I should sit down now," she states in utter earnestness, and she 
  commences to do so. Right there on the floor. She parks there cross-legged, 
  her eyes turning progressively more liquid over her small bronze.

Ceria jumps out of her chair and hurries over to Mehlani. "Are alright?" she 
  asks.

"I don't feel good," Mehlani repeats dolefully, her voice becoming, if 
  possible, even softer and smaller. Her eyes start tearing over, and a few 
  tears trickle down her cheeks.

Ceria looks at you for a moment.
Ceria sits down on the floor next to Mehlani and puts her arms around the 
  girl. "It will be alright," she whispers.

Dathon gets the klah and scuttles over to Mehlani, crouching beside her. 
  "Drink some of this, it'll help." He holds the mug up to her lips.

As the two Candidates hunker down by her, Mehlani starts crying in earnest. 
  Perhaps unsurprisingly, she still makes hardly a sound. She continues to 
  cuddle Holl securely, staring rather blankly out across the cavern, but 
  Dathon's offered klah does seem to catch some of her attention. Obediently, 
  she sips at it.

Ceria glances uncertainly at Dathon. She silently strokes Mehlani's hair as 
  the girl sips the klah.

Makear walks here from the Inner Cavern.
Makear has arrived.

Relic flits into the room from the Inner Cavern.
Relic has arrived.

Mehlani coughs a bit as she drinks klah a trifle too fast. And continues to 
  sob, strangely silently, bowing her head down over little Holl. The bronze 
  creels in shared misery.

Makear blinks as she sees poeple in the cavern at this late (early?) hour. 
  With a yawn she grabs a mug of warm cider and quietly sits down at an empty 
  table.

Ceria glances up from her seat on the floor as Makear enters.

Dathon glances up from a half-crouch beside Ceria and Mehlani at Makear. He 
  manages a weak grin in greeting.

Makear looks at you for a moment.

T'lar walks in from the bowl.
T'lar has arrived.
T'lar walks in taking off his riding gear and heading for the ale keg.

Makear notices the girl crying and frowns a bit, wondering what is going on, 
  but she doesn't speak or move, afraid she'll make things worse.

Dathon nods in solemn greeting to the rider from his position (rather 
  uncomfortable, no doubt ;) half-crouched on the floor.

Mehlani remains where she sits on the floor, her hair and coat disheveled, 
  sobbing barely audibly. Bronze Holl, his eyes whirling orange-yellow, creels 
  mournfully from the young girl's arms.

Ceria hugs the sobbing girl again, not sure what else to do.

Ceria
Ceria returns your glance a bit shyly. She is a diminutive girl, with fair 
  skin and delicate features. Ceria is wearing a faded green tunic that looks 
  as though it once matched her eyes. She is also wearing a pair of 
  snug-fitting tan trousers. Her dark hair is loose and cascades smoothly over 
  her hips in flowing waves. Ceria is wearing a knot of red, black, and white, 
  indicating her status as a Candidate at Benden. Ceria appears to be 16 
  Turns, 0 months, and 28 days old.
Carrying:
Emmy

T'lar pauses and looks at Mehlani. He walks over to the young people. "This 
  may be a dumb question, but is something wrong?"

Dathon
Dathon is a tall, gaunt young man with a long scar running across his left 
  eye. His skin seems to be rather tanned, and his hair is a deep brown 
  bordering on black.He is clean-shaven, but whatever effect this may have is 
  considerably diminished by the recalcitrant forelock hanging down the centre 
  of his forehead.Dark circles appear under his eyes, as if he hasn't slept 
  much recently. He wears a deep blue tunic without much adornment, as well as 
  a pair of dark brown trousers which appear fairly well-used. On his shoulder 
  he wears the lavender and white knot of an apprentice weaver, as well as the 
  newer red, white and black knot that marks him as a Candidate at Benden Weyr.
Carrying:
Lanzecki
Leather Firelizard Rest(#15926Js$)
Tapestry: Fountain with Firelizards
Abstract Flame Tapestry

T'lar
This rather short young man, 5'6" on a good day, is wearing a tunic of rich 
  klahbark brown material finely woven and meticulously crafted . The broad 
  collar and cuffs are edged with a scroll of red and black embroidery 
  accented with bronze. Dark red wherhide has been tailored into a close 
  fitting pair of trousers, tucked into black wherhide boots. A vest of red 
  and black tops the outfit. In the open v of the tunic's neck rests an oval 
  of silver. Encrusted in gems of the beaten surface is the form of a dragon 
  and rider. He wears a gold ring with a large diamond.
The riding jacket has several decorations: a red and black knot entwined with 
  bronze marking him a Benden bronze rider, an apprentice Miner knot also 
  twined with bronze and two patches, one for Skyfire wing and the other for 
  his now defunct weyrling wing, Moonrise. He has short blond hair and dark 
  grey eyes. A bronze and a green firelizard tend to follow him everywhere. He 
  is 24 Turns, 7 months, and 4 days old.
Carrying:
Loki(#1931Vps)

Dathon nods. "In a way, yes, sir." He attempts lamely to offer a "Don't worry, 
  it's all right" to Mehlani.

T'lar shifts uneasily. "Is there, uh, anything I can do?"

Mehlani sniffles, rocking a little, and reflexively stroking her bronze pet. 
  She peeks up out of Ceria's gentle hug, peers at Dathon, and nods to him, 
  but her woebegone expression hasn't changed much.

Makear watches the group from her seat by the hearth, thru slightly blood shot 
  eyes.

Dathon nibbles on his lower lip and looks around imploringly at the other folk 
  in the cavern.

Ceria looks slightly confused, but she continues to hold Mehlani.

T'lar looks completely at a loss as he has no idea what has caused Mehlani's 
  great sorrow. "Could one of you please tell me what happened here?"

Dathon stands quietly, brow furrowed He moves over to T'lar so as not to upset 
  the girl. He mutters to T'lar, "Well, sir, her... flight." 

Kindre walks in from the bowl.
Kindre has arrived.

Holl creels in complete and total dejection. Mehlani lifts her head towards 
  T'lar, revealing a pair of tear-filled eyes, a pair of tear-streaked cheeks. 
  Fresh tears well up and pour down, but she neither protests Dathon's 
  movement nor offers anything to clarify his murmur to the bronze rider.

One of T'lar's eyebrows moves toward his hairline. "Oh. I see." He nods. 
  "She's taking it pretty hard."

Ceria looks up from her seat on the floor as Kindre enters.

T'lar stands near Mehlani, talking with Dathon. His back is to the bowl 
  entrance.

Kindre brushes the flakes of snow that managed to cling to her shoulders free 
  of them before smiling and lifting a hand to wave. "Evening all," is said 
  cheerfully enough before the tiny creel draws her attention. Peering over a 
  few pairs of shoulders, she recognizes the firelizard's pet. "Mehlani," she 
  wonders quietly, "T'lar...Dathon...? Is she alright? What happened?"

A small, delicate green head peeks out from around T'lar's neck with an 
  inquiring croon.

Makear glances at Kindre as she enters and then winces as her green firelizard 
  digs her talons into her shoulder as a reprimand.

From under Ceria's hair, Emmy warbles softly.

Dathon's head shakes slowly, and he quietly mimes a request for the queenrider 
  to come over.

T'lar says "Oh, Kindre." He doesn't quite jump in surprise. "It seems that the 
  little bronze, er, didn't win a flight."

Mehlani lifts her dejected gaze at the sound of Kindre's voice. Her already 
  reddened face turns visibly pinker as she starts to realize what a spectacle 
  she is making of herself, and the lass hunkers down a bit where she sits on 
  the floor, as if she's trying to vanish into it.

Ceria gazes sympathetically at Mehlani, who she still holds in a loose hug.

Makear galnces at Ceria sympathetically, before she glares at her own green, 
  who just hisses in return, before swipping at Relic for the 100th time that 
  night.

T'lar kneels down next to the sobbing child. "Mehlani. Why don't we move to 
  that table over there? It will be much more comfortable and more, er, 
  private."

Kindre takes slow steps towards the trio, her expression one of vague sympathy 
  as she finally comes within a few paces of them. Bobbing her head at the 
  bronzerider's words, she gazes then upon the young woman. "Shards, Mehlani, 
  I'm sorry," she starts to speak, her voice still not at its full volume. 
  Crouching down and resting her elbows upon her knees, she smiles before 
  continuing. "Dearheart, Holl may lose flights now and again...just like 
  dragons do." There is a hope in her voice that Father has mentioned that, 
  or, more likely, she's seen that.

Dathon nods in agreement, crouching again next to the girl.

Mehlani's limpid blue gaze shifts from T'lar to Kindre and back again. Tinily, 
  she nods, though to whose commentary she does not specify. Holl curls up in 
  a tinier ball in the lass's arms, hiding his head under his wing.

Ceria drops her arms from the girl at T'lar's suggestion.

T'lar helps Mehlani to her feet, suddenly noticing she's grown.
T'lar looks at you for a moment.

Mehlani sniffles and slowly stands, with T'lar's assistance. The lass's 
  rumpled clothing makes her look as if she's rolled around in the snow, or 
  perhaps been dunked in a snowbank.

Ceria stands and moves back to the table where she left her klah. She picks up 
  the mug and goes over to Makear. "May I join you?" she asks with a backward 
  glance at Mehlani.

T'lar lets her walk to the table under her own power. With a soft word, he 
  requests a warm drink for the girl and some tasty scraps to distract the 
  firelizard.

Kindre rises from her kneeling position and regards the tiny ball of bronze in 
  Mehlani's arms. Stepping back, she's ready to follow T'lar and F'hlan's 
  daughter wheve ever they head. "Would you like a little something to drink, 
  Mehlani? Mayhaps some scraps for Holl?"

Makear nods to Ceria, before she rubs her eyes and stares at the fire for a 
  couple seconds. She then says, "I couldn't sleep, so I thought I would get 
  something to drink." She pauses a moment, "I didn't exactly expect this."

Mehlani once more looks back and forth between the bronze and gold riders, and 
  once more bobs her head plaintively, still not uttering a word. She's still 
  crying, and that, too, is soundless.

Tiny claws grip Mehlani's shoulder in a gentle grip as a small green jumps 
  from T'lar's shoulder to hers. Quiet chirps are directed to the bronze ball 
  in her arms.

Rather than allow the drudges to bring the items spoken about, Kindre heads 
  towards the tables herself. Plucking three meatrolls from one of the server 
  trays, she breaks them apart and arranges the pieces neatly on a plate. 
  You'd think the meal was meant for a Lord Holder for as long as she lingers 
  with its looks. Procuring half a mug of juice, she tops it off with some red 
  wine, though this goes unseen by anyone but Salless...and most know she 
  hardly recalls the turn, nevermind a goldrider slipping alcohol into juice. 
  The entire ensamble is presented to Mehlani along with a cloth napkin and 
  smile. "Here you go...this may help."

Ceria sits down next to Makear and sips her klah slowly. "I didn't expect this 
  either," she comments.

Mehlani jumps a bit, but manages not to lose her balance as T'lar's green 
  joins her. Sinking onto the nearest chair in a way that suggests her legs 
  aren't exactly stable, 'Lani holds herself very still. In her arms, Holl 
  makes a muffled chirring sort of noise before peeking with one yellow eye up 
  at the other creature.

Dathon quirks his lip, managing to find a seat next to Ceria. He sighs, with a 
  rueful grin. "Well, no one said Weyrlife was all snowball fights and, umm, 
  knife practice..."

Ceria grins at Dathon. "That reminds me. I still have Kassima's knife that she 
  loaned me."

"I'm sorry," Mehlani tells Kindre in a bizarrely heartbroken sort of tone, 
  completely incongruous with her automatic polite "Thank you..."

T'lar sits next to the tiny girl. He pulls a handkerchief from somewhere and 
  offers it to her. "It's not so bad as all that. There will be other flights. 
  Let him know this" He looks up at his green with a smile. "See, even 
  Greenleaf is trying to help."

Dathon raises an eyebrow. "Better return it before her Lysseth starts glowing 
  again." His eyes sparkle. "Or you might end up..." He draws a finger across 
  his throat in pantomime.

Makear doesn't even rouse a smile at Dathon's joke. SHe just turns anouther 
  glare at her two waring firelizards. SHe says to no one inparticualr, "I 
  just wish these to would leave off, so I could sleep." the last comes out as 
  almost a plea.

Ceria smiles slightly. "I've been planning to give it back to her. I just 
  haven't seen her yet." She glances curiously at Makear. "What's the matter?"

Mehlani's arms are occupied cradling Holl, and so she blinks rather baffledly 
  at the food and drink and handkerchief offered her, as if not quite sure 
  what to do about them. But the idea gets through, and with utmost care, she 
  shifts Holl's weight onto her left forearm, reaching first for the meatroll 
  tidbits without thinking. "Holl doesn't feel good," she explains tinily to 
  T'lar and Kindre.

Dathon's brow furrows. "Yes, do tell us."

Greenleaf stretches her neck down to grab a little bronze tail.

Kindre's expression is nearly maternal as she gazes over the young, teary 
  woman. Slipping into a seat nearby, she simply shrugs a shoulder and smiles. 
  "There's nothing to be sorry for, dearheart..." T'lar's words cause her to 
  nod in quick agreement. "True enough...Holl will get to be in so many 
  flights in his life. This one was just that...one." Sliding the plate a bit 
  closer towards Holl's owner, she again bobs her head. "Well, he's probably a 
  little sad...but look at that pretty green looking him over."

T'lar looks concerned. "He doesn't feel good or he's upset because he didn't 
  catch the female?"

Makear sighs, "I don't know, Ezra has just been weird all day, but it got to 
  the worst when I went to my cot." She kicked Arctic and SHinnen (blue and 
  brown) underneath the cot and then I had to pull her and my queen from 
  fighting each other." SHe glares at the green again." And then when I 
  thought I was finally getting sleep, Relic started hanging about her like 
  this!"

Salless surveys the Benden Living cavern after putting away her rolling pin 
  and cutting board. Satisfied, she sits down at a table with a mug of klah 
  and listens for a while.

Holl squeaks in barely audible startlement as Greenleaf tugs at him, but that 
  gets him to lift his head, and Mehlani takes the opportunity to tenderly 
  offer him the morsel she's taken into her fingers. The bronzeling creels 
  again, but eventually looks at the tidbit and nibbles at it, while Mehlani 
  sniffles and tells T'lar huskily, "Tzornth didn't let him catch Neme. 
  Tzornth hollered at him."

Ceria looks confused. She doesn't have any experience with firelizards other 
  than what she's experienced with Emmy. "I don't know what could be wrong."

T'lar's eyebrow raises again. "Tzornth did what?"

Dragon> Nicoth bespoke Tzornth with << What did you do to hurt the little 
  bronze? >>

Dathon nibbles on his lower lip, overhearing Mehlani's words. He mutters to 
  Ceria, " Overprotective fathers... their dharding bronze... know what's 
  best... their offspring." 

Asrai walks in from the bowl.
Asrai has arrived.

Kindre's brows raise curiously, almost mirroring T'lar's look of puzzlement. 
  "Hmm? And drink some juice, Mehlani...gets fluids back into you," she 
  remarks while sliding the tainted concoction closer to her.

Asrai comes running in, huge grin on her face as she shakes snow from her 
  clothes.

A small knot of people are huddled around Mehlani.

Ceria glances at Mehlani and then at Dathon. A gleam of comprehension shines 
  in her eyes and she nods.

Mehlani, with a hand free, obediently reaches for the offered drink and lifts 
  it to sip at it. "Thank you," she murmurs tinily.

Tzornth> Nicoth senses that Tzornth answers with a sleepy firmness, << F'hlan 
  asked me to stop the little bronze cousin. He could not catch Neme. F'hlan 
  said that was wrong. >>

Dragon> Nicoth bespoke Tzornth with <<  Why wrong? Neme is nice, so says my 
  little bronze cousin. >>

T'lar looks at Kindre questioningly. "The female he was chasing belongs to 
  your father?"

Another sniffle escapes Mehlani as she bobs her head silently.

Tzornth> I bespoke Nicoth with << Neme looks to F'hlan. Holl looks to <image 
  of Mehlani>. F'hlan did not want <image of Mehlani> confused. >>

Dragon> Nicoth bespoke Tzornth with <<  My rider is confused by <image of 
  Mehlani>. >>

Asrai frowns as K'nan doesn't follow her directly in and goes out looking for 
  him...silly Bluerider.
Asrai walks towards the inner cavern.
Asrai has left.
Asrai walks here from the Inner Cavern.
Asrai has arrived.
Asrai walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.
Asrai has left.

Dathon sighs. "The hazards of lizards." He glares at the one on his shoulder, 
  who has the temerity to chitterchuckle back at him.

"That's good," Kindre continues to smile to Mehlani as she takes the juice. 
  "Mah always said crying got the bad feelings out, kind of like a river 
  pouring into the sea. You have to fill it back up, though, so finish up your 
  juice, dearheart." The weepy young woman's nod causes Kindre to slowly 
  comprehend just why she is so upset. "Ah..."

Ceria's eyes grow a little wider as she hears T'lar's words.

Greenleaf pulls more insistently on Holl's tail. Keeping it in her grip, she 
  jumps to the table.

In Mehlani's arms, Holl squawks in indignation as he is tail-tugged, flapping 
  his red-tinged wings in annoyance at the little green. Mehlani sniffles 
  again, turning slightly where she sits, and considers; then, carefully, to 
  relieve the pull on Holl's tail, she sets him on the table next to the 
  platter of meatroll tidbits. Holl, eyes whirling with a tinge of red, hisses 
  briefly at Greenleaf before curling in on himself and turning his head 
  towards the food.

Tzornth> Nicoth senses that Tzornth rumbles back curiously, << Really? Why? >>

Dragon> Nicoth bespoke Tzornth with <<  <image of Mehlani crying> >>

Tzornth> Nicoth senses that Tzornth mentally blinks. << She weeps? >> He is 
  silent for a moment, perhaps trying to convey this to his rider. << F'hlan is 
  with <image of Melora>. I cannot tell him yet. >> Tzornth sounds dismayed.

Dragon> Nicoth bespoke Tzornth with <<  Herath's rider and T'lar are with her. 
  They will help. >>

Tzornth> Nicoth senses that Tzornth projects his gratitude, crooning to you. << 
  Thank you... <image of Mehlani> should not cry!

Makear looks at Dathon and nods, "The hazards indeed, I'll probably get yelled 
  at tomorrow, for not getting enough sleep."

Greenleaf pushes a particularly choice bit toward Holl with an insistent chirp.

Ceria sighs. "I wish there was something I could do to help," she says.

T'lar smiles at Ceria. "Just being her friend should help," he says quietly 
  before turning back to place a hand on Mehlani's shoulder. "He'll be okay, 
  but you have to help calm him down. Let me know that it's okay."

Mehlani sits there a moment, both her hands grasping the mug now. She peers 
  down into its contents, looking briefly confused, before she registers 
  Kindre's adminition to finish it, and does so. Then she informs T'lar and 
  Kindre dolefully, "Tzornth said that Holl could not have Neme, but Holl 
  wouldn't listen to him, so Tzornth had to make his head hurt to make him 
  leave the flight, and Holl doesn't feel very good now." She pauses as this 
  unusually long sentence rambles slowly out of her, then adds, voice small, 
  "I don't feel good either."

Dathon sighs. "Which reminds me - I still have one errand to run. I'll 
  probably be back late..." He grins in a forced sort of way, considering the 
  situation, at Makear and Ceria. "Clear skies, as they say." He nods to the 
  riders respectfully as he rises and nips out of the cavern.
Dathon walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.
Dathon has left.

Makear stands up stiffly as she to heads out, but back to the barracks, 
  instead of the bowl, "I'm going back to my cot and sleep, even if I have tie 
  one of these two up."

T'lar chews on his lower lip as he considers what he should/could do to help 
  Mehlani.

Kindre picks up bits of the Candiates conversation and notes over to Makear, 
  "You'd never get in trouble for not getting enough sleep. If it causes 
  problems with your duties, though, well then mayhaps." Her words are kind, 
  and she smiles briefly to take any implied sting they may have held out. 
  Turning back, she watches the little bronze nibble his meal briefly before 
  nodding to his pet. "Tzornth made his head hurt? Are you upset, or do you 
  feel a little sick, Mehlani?" A slow smile creeps across her mouth as the 
  young woman drinks the juice.

Makear nods to Kindre and then musters a small smile for Ceria, as she walks 
  out.
Makear walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.
Makear has left.

Relic flits after Makear.
Relic flits through the short tunnel and out into the bowl.
Relic has left.

Dragon> Nicoth bespoke Mehlani with <<  Don't cry. >>

Ceria finishes her klah, and with a yawn, leaves the living cavern.
Ceria walks towards the inner cavern.
Ceria has left.

T'lar blinks at looks out toward the bowl.

M'kla walks in from the bowl.
M'kla has arrived.

T'lar and Kindre are seated with a crying Mehlani.

Mehlani murmurs to Kindre tinily, "My head hurts too and I feel bad and... 
  and... I..." She trails off, looking extremely confused, tears threatening 
  her gaze again.

Kassima walks in from the bowl.
Kassima has arrived.

Mehlani then blinks and glances into the air absently for a moment.

Dragon> Nicoth bespoke Mehlani with <<  No cry. Tzornth worries. >>

Mehlani mumbles, "I don't want to worry Tzornth..."

Kindre, as the cold winds brought in with the opened door distract her from the 
  tear-stained face of Mehlani and T'lar, turns and smiles to M'kla and 
  Kassima. "Wingsecond, Weyrsecond, good eve to you both." Not quite her usual 
  somewhat boisterous greeting, it is still friendly nonetheless. "Did you 
  finish that juice? Oh, what happened to your hand," she wonders while gazing 
  over it.

A slow smile creeps across T'lar's face. He sits back and sips his ale, 
  watching Mehlani carefully.

Kassima makes a rather odd sight, with a thick green cloak draped over her 
  riding jacket and her clothing--all linen; she doesn't wear leathers on her 
  days off--still soaked through from the Springs and snow. "Ah, blessed warmth 
  at last," she murmurs, before lifting her hand to wave to everyone. "G'deve, 
  all...." Mehlani's tear-marked visage catches her attention almost 
  immediately, and she quirks one eyebrow at Kin and T'lar in silent query.

Mehlani by way of reply to Kindre holds up her mug for the gold rider's 
  inspection, then, baffled by the last question from Kindre, she mumbles, 
  "Hand?"

Dragon> Nicoth bespoke Mehlani with <<  Tzornth is sorry. He doesn't not want 
  you <image of you crying>. It makes him and my rider unhappy. >>

T'lar smiles softly at Kassima and raises his mug in greeting.

"You said your hand hurt," Kindre blinks and leans back, "I think I 
  misunderstood, though...I'm sorry." A bit of a helpless shrug is offered to 
  Kassima before she looks at T'lar oddly; brows wrinkled together on her 
  forehead and puzzled expression on her face.

On the table, next to the platter of meatroll tidbits, Holl peers warily at 
  little Greenleaf as she nudges food morsels at him. He nibbles at the tidbit 
  Greenleaf pushes towards him, but protectively curls his tail about himself. 
  The red leaves his eyes, but they are still orange-yellow, whirling slowly, 
  tiredly.

Greenleaf, T'lar's little green, is trying to get bronze Holl to eat the 
  meatroll scraps on the table.

Mehlani blinks to Kindre owlishly and says softly, "I meant 'head'... didn't I 
  say..." She frowns again and looks into the air, mumbling, "Don't be 
  unhappy...!"

Kassima settles into a chair fairly close to the others, unfastening cloak and 
  jacket and draping both over the back of her chosen seat. Curiousity and 
  concern war for dominance of her expression as she props her chin up on one 
  hand, eyes fixed on Mehlani, Kin, and T'lar.

T'lar leans over and mutters to Kassima.
T'lar mutters to Kassima, "... of... because Tzornth..."

M'kla settles down in a chair, looking a bit chilled and disgruntled with the 
  weather. You'd think after 20 odd turns as a rider at Benden, she'd get used 
  to it.

Kassima immediately looks more comprehending, and she nods to T'lar in thanks. 
  "A'course nay," she murmurs to the bronzerider under her breath, glancing at 
  the child in question.

Dragon> Nicoth bespoke Mehlani with <<  <warmth, caring, affection, concern> >>

T'lar nods and drinks more ale. "Mehlani? Are you two feeling better?"

Mehlani sniffles again softly, still gazing bemusedly into the air. She lifts 
  her legs up to her and curls her arms about them, then starts a bit at 
  T'lar's question. "Wh... what?"

On the table, Holl picks at the morsel before him until it's gone, and issues 
  another plaintive little creel.

Greenleaf pushes another tidbit to Holl with more motherly sounding advice.

T'lar says "Are you and Holl feeling any better?"

Mehlani looks immediately to Holl and then murmurs gravely to T'lar, "Holl 
  feels a little better..."

Kassima leans over to murmur something to Kindre, perhaps surmising that 
  there's little that she could do for Mehlani that isn't already being done by 
  others. "Have you seen Ceria about lately, perchance? I really should 
  retrieve m'knife from her."

R'val walks in from the bowl.
R'val has arrived.
R'val wanders into the cavern, waving amiably, "Evening, all."

T'lar looks up from his place by Mehlani. "Evening, R'val." He looks back at 
  the little girl and her little bronze.

Kindre watches Mehlani with quiet concern, gaze occasionally flicking to T'lar 
  who seems to have things under control. Kassima's words pull her from the 
  study and she smiles before looking over the nooks and crannies of the 
  cavern. "She was just here...I think, mayhaps, she just headed towards the 
  barracks not long agao. Ceria has one of your knives?"

R'val flops into a seat lazily, "Evenin'. what's up, all?"

Mehlani's gaze goes absent as she lifts a hand to scritch Holl's back.

Kassima nods, following Kin's gaze around the cavern with a similar lack of 
  success. "Aye; I loaned it to her t'throw with, when 'twas having the 
  knife-tossing lesson--and then I got a bit distracted..." she temporizes, 
  grinning wryly, "so I didn't think to retrieve it from her at the time."

Greenleaf begins to groom Holl, licking and rubbing his flank in a soothing 
  fashion. Occasionally, she flicks her tongue across Mehlani's hand.

Kindre chuckles a bit, "Ah, I think I understand. Well, she was here, but I 
  suppose headed off to retire for the eve. Well," she remarks before grinning, 
  "as much as Candidates truly retire once hidden within the safety of the 
  barracks with their friends." Rolling her eyes and laughing a bit, she shrugs.

Kassima clicks her tongue once, but nods again. "'Twould make sense; 'tis 
  rather late, i'truth. 'Twill nay doubt nay be long about retiring m'self. I 
  guess she can be trusted with the blade for one more eve, hmm?"

"Depends," Kindre grins up at Kassima, "Hopefully she'll be wise enough not to 
  try to practice on snowmen of her own," she says in a teasing tone. "I'm 
  certain she'll return it soon enough."

T'lar smiles softly at Mehlani as he puts his empty mug on the table. "If you 
  need anything, just let me or Kindre or even Kassima know. We've had 
  firelizards and dragons go through this before." He looks at the green and 
  gold riders and laughs. "Okay, so I've had a dragon got through this 
  rejection. But we all understand and we'll do anything to help"

Kindre's eyes crinkle slightly as she chuckles to T'lar's words. "True 
  enough...and we're all your friends, besides that. I'm always available to 
  talk to you,okay?"

"'Twill reclaim it in any event when next I see her," Kassi says through a 
  stifled yawn, then bobs her head in accordance with the bronzerider. "Verily, 
  'tis so. If'n I might offer advice or aid, you've but to ask it, Mehlani."

Rubbing a hand across her eyes and looking bemused for a moment, Mehlani then 
  bobs her head absently to T'lar and mumbles, "Thank you..." Her hand stays 
  draped lightly across Holl as he picks at another morsel.

T'lar stands. "Goodnight, all. Coming, Kassi?"

Mehlani blinkblinks and looks over to Kassima, her brow furrowing. She asks 
  earnestly, "Do your blues make your head hurt all the time?" The question is 
  surprisingly forthright for the girl.

T'lar blinks at Mehlani's question, decides not to get reinvolved and heads out 
  with waves to all.
T'lar walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.
T'lar has left.

"Quite frequently," Kassi admits sincererly. "Especially when several of them 
  chase the same green, and none of them succeed--or one does, and the rest 
  don't. I'm always grateful that Lyss is able to help me a bit with such 
  things."

"What do you do when that happens?" Mehlani asks Kassima, focusing the green 
  rider. Her gaze is still liquid... but at least she appears to have stopped 
  crying.

Kindre grumbles something about Herath and aching heads while rubbing her 
  temples. Sighing a bit, she looks over Mehlani and gains her smile again. 
  "Will you be alright? I'm afraid the largest of my pets requires my presense 
  suddenly."

"I... I think I'll be okay," Mehlani answers Kindre uncertainly. She's speaking 
  more readily now, and a bit louder than is usual for her.

M'kla chuckles suddenly, "Oh lass...dan't let Herath hear you say she's a 
  pet...she'll be peeved fer a sevenday, even if she's forgot why after two."

Kassima smiles faintly, a smile tingued with ruefulness. "Get drunk, sometimes, 
  or convince Lyss to dunk me in the Ice Lake. If'n all else fails, I try to 
  find something distracting to do--writing a new songlike-thing, filling out 
  reports if'n I'm clearheaded enough, or aught that can capture enough of my 
  attention to suffice. 'Tis best, I've found, to try nay to think about it 
  if'n you can."

Kassima looks over towards Kin, and chuckles at the goldrider. "The Golden 
  Lady's being her same old self?" she asks sympathetically. "Well, g'luck with 
  her--and clear skies to both of you."

Mehlani considers this with utmost intentness, staring at Kassima wide-eyedly. 
  She then says slowly, "I don't know what I can do instead." Her hand stays on 
  Holl, and she keeps gently scritching him, without thinking about it.

Kassima tilts her head, evidently pondering the matter. "You could spend some 
  time with Tsornin, mayhaps? Go riding until your head clears? I don't know 
  much of runners, but I've several cousins who have a fondness for them, and 
  swear by a ride as the cure for all ills."

Kindre nods her head and stands, though lingers hesitantly beside the table. As 
  an almost afterthought, she takes Mehlani's juice glass and heads towards the 
  tables again, filling it with her back to the collection of women. Even 
  Salless doesn't catch her filling the container half-way with wine, half-way 
  with juice and then return it. "Just in case you get thirsty again," the 
  goldrider offers before Kassima's explanation of how she gets rid of her 
  headaches cause a fleeting look of guilt on her face. A shrug dismisses it as 
  she pulls a scarf around her neck. "And clearest of skies to you all, as 
  well. Good eve. Feel better, dearheart," she offer the latter to Holl's pet 
  before slipping out into the cold.
Kindre walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.
Kindre has left.

"Your cousins said they like runners," murmurs Mehlani timidly. Offered the 
  juice, she pulls it closer to her and sips slowly at it, while she takes over 
  Greenleaf's duty of feeding little Holl.

That elicits a smile from the greenrider, and a nod as well. "Kestar and Eyrian 
  are both well-nigh obsessed, and they're hardly the only ones. Amongst dozens 
  of cousins, it makes sense that several would share an interest, hmmm?" 
  Rising to her feet, she gathers up her cloak and jacket, slinging them over 
  one arm rather than bothering to put them up. The trip up to her weyr is a 
  short one. "D'you need aught else, Mehlani? I should by rights be retiring, 
  but if'n I can do something else for you...."

Mehlani considers, then starts scooping meatroll tidbits onto a kerchief, which 
  she then nestles into her coat pocket. Holl is scooped up next, nestled 
  tenderly in the crook of her arm; then, as an afterthought, she takes the 
  juice glass. This done, she announces tinily, "I'm gonna go find Tsornin." 
  With that, she pads determinedly out of the cavern.

[End log.]