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:
	9/19/97

Log Cast (People):
	R'val, Ceria, Kassima, Mehlani, Caitria, Maylia, Breenah, Makear,
T'saren, Zerra, Emlyn, Dathon, Suzot, Janus

Log Cast (Dragons):
	Solarith, Pleiath, Ularrith

Log Intro:
	Now that Mehlani is getting older, she's beginning to step out from
under her illustrious father F'hlan's shadow and establish a bit of a 
presence of her own in the Weyr. Though she is naturally shy, she is helped
somewhat in this endeavor by her gregarious bronze firelizard Holl--and by
her deep affection for runnerbeasts, which has won her the attention of the
Herder Caitria. Caitria is bound and determined to get Mehlani into her 
Craft, though it'll take all the delicate patience of breaking a shy young
runner to saddle...
	And when Kassima's green Lysseth is proddy, well, hey, far more
outgoing people than Mehlani are prone to head for the hills. Yet, when that
particular green rider is spotted building outlandish snow sculptures in the
Weyr bowl, even the timid, taciturn daughter of bronze Tzornth's rider can't
help but take a peek....

----------
South Bowl(#298RL$)
The southern half of the bowl is the largest. Its expanse stretches out, 
  partitioned into sections by the color of the ground. The shore of the lake 
  stretches out to the southwest. The bowl's patch of wildflowers, gardens and 
  a few small small trees stretching out in that direction also, grading into 
  the Runner Pasture. The rest of the southern bowl is pressed earth as hard 
  as rock, raked with dragon talons from turns of launchings and landings. 
  Towards the weyrling barracks, the ground is scarred in regular patterns 
  from the performance of age-old drills. The rest of the ground is scarred 
  more irregularly, and a large pile of firestone is stacked neatly by the 
  wall. The ground also has black stains from the firestone. The training 
  grounds and the meadow are both covered with a blanket of pure white snow, 
  though it is trodden down in dragon-wide paths where the dragons move.
Some fluffy white clouds skirt across the skies above you.
Contents:
T'saren
Solarith
Zerra
Makear
Breenah
Caitria
Ceria
R'val
Maylia
Kassima
Obvious exits:
North Bowl  Feeding Grounds  Runner Pasture  Lake Shore  Weyrling Barracks 
  Weyr Entrance

Makear
Tall and slender, Makear, notices your glance and looks back at you. Her 
  blue/grey eyes shine with intelligence from her heart shaped face and her 
  small mouth shows the hint of a pleasant smile. Her wavy, midnight black 
  hair is for once hanging loose and falls down to her waist. About her neck 
  is a black cord necklace with a metallic blue firelizard charm dangling at 
  the end. She always seems to wear it. Maybe it holds some sentimental 
  meaning to her. On her shoulder is a simple cord of red and black with a 
  strand of white showing she is a Candidate at Benden Weyr. She looks to be 
  about 16. But if you ask her she'll say she is 14 Turns, 8 months, and 22 
  days old.
 Makear is wearing a black wool dress. It is rather plain and doesn't have 
  any sort of fancy stiching or embroidery on it. She usually can be seen with 
  a heavy wherhide jacket on due to she has been complaining of the cold. At 
  the moment she is also wearing some gloves so her hands don't get as cold as 
  they did in the snowball fight. She is also wearing a pair of high rather 
  abused black wherhide boots that are made for tramping through snow and such.
 Often several firelizards are draped about Makear at a time. Brown Relic 
  prefers a shoulder along with green Ezra, when he stops long enough to perch 
  on something brown Shinnen will land on her head (much to Makear's dislike). 
  The newest edition to the fair is blue Arctic, who enjoys a nice warm pocket 
  to sleep in. Gold Kali likes to lounge around Makear's neck and often is 
  mistaked for a gaudy necklace.
Carrying:
Ferret bed(#2934Vs$)
Kali
Arctic
Relic

T'saren
 You see a wiry young man, all whipcord and muscle from his dragonrider 
  duties. He's around 20 Turns, 7 months, and 7 days old, about 5'11" tall, 
  and about 171 lbs. His just past shoulder-length black hair is tied back 
  into a small, neat runnertail with a light grey strip of hide. His deep 
  brown eyes shine with a bit of good-natured humor as the corner of his mouth 
  turns up in a grin, showing the tiny dimple in his left cheek.
 T'saren wears a billowy slate grey shirt, laced up from mid-chest to throat 
  with a black cord, and a pair of deep grey, almost black, wherhide trousers. 
  Affixed proudly to his shoulder is a red and black knot with a bright strand 
  of bronze woven through, showing his position of Assistant Weyrlingmaster at 
  Benden Weyr. A black wherhide flight jacket, with his old Dawnslight 
  wingbadge on the right breast, and a pair of black wherhide boots with soft 
  uppers, complete his attire. A large beltknife hangs on his hip, and a pair 
  of ovine-wool lined wherhide riding gloves have been tucked into his belt.

((+detail is available))

R'val waves amiably at T'saren, his eyes on the gruesome work.

Ceria gathers up a few more rocks ane piles them with the rest of the ones 
  she's collected.

Kassima places the snow-emasculator into her last snowwoman's hand once it 
  has been put together, nodding with satisfaction at the result. "It really 
  looks authentic, Tria," she enthuses. "Methinks *this* gallery of targets 
  will serve admirably." Gallery... or Snowman House of Horrors?

Mehlani, her ever-present bronze fire lizard riding for once on her other 
  shoulder, comes padding silently up from the runner pasture, her breath 
  hanging in a cloud about her head. The girl slows when she spies a 
  gathering. And halts when she sees what Kassima is doing.

Caitria gives Mehlani a smile. "Hiya, kiddo."

Mehlani draws near to Caitria and bobs her head once at her by way of 
  greeting, but the girl's blue gaze lingers on.... whatever it is Kassima is 
  doing. From the look on her face, the girl isn't exactly surprised by her 
  father's wingmate's activity, but then again, she's not going anywhere 
  nearer, either.

Maylia adds more rocks to the pile she's accumulated, stepping up to her 
  missing-arm snowman to adjust the look on its face a little. She glances to 
  Kassima, wondering what's next.

Breenah shivers as she moves closer to the group. "It feels like their eyes 
  are following me. Are you sure there isn't anyone under all that snow?" She 
  bites her bottom lip as she realizes that she has admited that she's scared.

Breenah
This young lady with long flowing golden hair and creamy white skin, stands 
  5'5" in height and appears to be 15 Turns, 1 months, and 16 days in age. Her 
  clear diamond coloured eyes sparkle as the skylights reflect from them. Soft 
  brown wherhide boots that lace up her delicate legs, highlighting her 
  developing curves. A light brown dress with a yellow sash wraped around her 
  waist concealing a small marks pouch completes her traveling outfit. She 
  carries herself with an air of dignity, self confidence, and intellect.
Carrying:
Sterling
Woody
Glimmer
Skylark

Caitria nods approvingly at the strawmasculator, then flashes a grin to 
  Breenah. "Realistic, eh? Kassi's really gifted."

Kassima bends to extract a slim-bladed throwing-knife from her boot, gazing 
  at the edge critically. Finally, she shrugs, and turns around as though to 
  walk back... then abruptly spins, her wrist flicking outward. The knife 
  lands point-blank in the head of the armless snow-child. A shame that 
  there's no wine embedded in this one.... "Good t'see I've nay been getting 
  rusty," the greenrider says with satisfaction. "What I just did shows part 
  of why aim's so important. If'n you truly want to consider yourselves 
  skilled with knives, you've got t'learn to hit a *moving* target at a point 
  of your choice. It takes quite a lot of learning. For now, practicing with 
  the rocks will get you started. When you can hit the dead center of one of 
  the snowmen with a rock five times in a row, without fail, then come back 
  t'me and I'll loan out a knife for you t'practice with."

Ceria finishes piling rocks, and then she turns to Kassima. She nods at the 
  greenrider's words and then picks up a rock, weighing it in her hand for a 
  moment before throwing it at her snowman. She hits it in the head with 
  enough force to break it, a bit of snow showering to the the ground.

Kassima glances at Mehlani, slightly amused by the girl's lack of surprise. 
  This activity must be putting her in a *very* good mood indeed. "If'n you 
  want to try too, Mehlani, go right ahead and pick out a target and rocks--or 
  build one if'n there aren't enough," she offers magnanimously.

Makear grins at this game, she likes this! WIth a quick motion she turns 
  around and searches for rocks, after last nights practice and just her 
  usuall skill woth knives, she should do well i this.

T'saren grins a bit as he watches, then realizes if any of these Candidates 
  Impress, he's going to have to deal with their knife throwing.The grin fades 
  into a less amused expression, almost a grimace.

Mehlani blinkblinks, _now_ looking surprised, probably due to having been 
  hailed. Holl PEERS at the green rider, trilling curiously, as 'Lani shakes 
  her head solemnly.

Zerra blinks and stops still as she watches Kassi, and looks around worridly 
  at the group, woundering what /has/ she stumbled apon. She steps back a 
  little and resumes her feet hopping to keep herself warm.

Maylia counts out her rocks, toeing them with her boot. 20. Won't be enough. 
  She shrugs, and decides to try. She takes aim, but the rock swings a little 
  wide, knocking the ear off her armless snowman. With an "eep!" she tries 
  again, getting his hip.

Breenah takes aim at the center snowman and lofts her rock. Her face falls as 
  she watches it fly over the head and land softly with a plooth.. on the 
  fluffy coating of snow on the other side.

Ceria picks up another rock and holds it for a moment. She eyes her snowman 
  again and then lobs the rock at it, hitting it squarely in the midsection, 
  imbedding the rock in the snow.

Mehlani, in fact, looks just a touch shy-stricken, and flicks a look left and 
  right, as if considering to flee to either a) her father's weyr, or b) back 
  to the beast hold.

R'val smiles, "Good shot, "He says to Ceria, watching her throw.

Caitria patpats Mehlani's shoulder, reassuringly. "S'okay, kiddo." She adds, 
  in an undertone, "Lysseth's just a weensy bit glowy, that's all."

Kassima flashes Tas a downright malicious grin, as though she can sense his 
  line of thought. With a shrug, she reclaims her knife from the snow-child 
  and starts packing snow into its open wound. "Oh, and don't forget to repair 
  your snowmen when they start looking shabby. That's the one true advantage 
  of using them as targets: you can fix what you've done. If'n you're certain, 
  Mehlani... though I'll tell you, this is the sort of skill that will come in 
  handy for all of one's life." Easy for her to say. She finds it useful every 
  time Lysseth gets a touch luminescent.

Makear steps up by Maylia holding about 7 small rocks. She grins at her twin 
  and takes aim at her chosen target with her first stone. With a motion that 
  shows practice she pelts the snowman in dead center.

Ceria nods at R'val with a slight smile. "You don't live with seven older 
  brothers without learning to defend yourself," she comments as she picks up 
  another rock. She throws it, and it joins the previous one in the snowman's 
  midsection. This time, she throws it with enough force to break the wineskin 
  inside and the snowman takes on a red tinge.

Mehlani looks up at Caitria, swallows once, then peers over at Kassima. "I'm 
  not a rider," she points out, her voice soft as usual, though clear enough 
  to carry.

Maylia tries again, after watching Kassi for a moment as if trying to remember 
  just what she did. She launches another rock, this time hitting her speared 
  snowman... somewhat below the spear... With a blush, she tries again, 
  finally getting one in its middle.

Caitria nods agreeably at that. "No, you're not. Looks like Kassi's being odd 
  to everyone today, though." Seeing Maylia's 'below the spear' shot, she 
  applauds. "Good one, lass!"

T'saren rolls his eyes at Kassi, stepping away from Solarith to a safe 
  distance behind the practicing Candidates. "Good point. No need to call a 
  Healer for snowmen, and they don't quite scream like real people either." 
  Whether this was said as a joke or in seriousness is hard to tell, because 
  he keeps his expression deadpan.

Kassima being odd does not appear to surprise 'Lani either. She eyes the green 
  rider a moment more, then leans over, standing up slightly on her toes to 
  murmur something to Caitria.

Mehlani mutters to Caitria, "I fed... brushed..."
You whisper "I fed Tsornin. And brushed him!" to Caitria.

"So?" asks Kassi as she steps back from her handiwork. "Neither was I, when 
  m'cousins taught me throwi--oh, fine shots! You've the mark of a good 
  'thrower, Ceria--and Maylia, it takes some natural gift to make a hit like 
  that so soon!"

Solarith lumbers north.
Solarith has left.

Caitria gives Mehlani a bright smile. "And I'm sure he's very grateful to you, 
  too. If you like, you can give him a treat. Maybe a bit of redfruit."

Makear hefts anouther rock in her palm and watches Maylia's hit, she grins 
  encourage meant to all her friends. And then with a good aim she hits the 
  snow man again in the chest.

Breenah palms another rock and throws it more in a straight line. It wizzes 
  past the left side of the snowhead taking off a bit of the snow that would 
  have been an ear. "I almost hit that time." She shouts as she bounces up and 
  down in excitement.

Ceria shifts her gaze over to T'saren for a moment before moving to repair the 
  slight damage she has inflicted on her snowman. She smiles at Kassima. "I've 
  had some practice throwing things at my brothers," she admits.

Maylia blushes furiously at the praise for the region where she hit. She nods, 
  and tries again, hitting not quite center of his body, just a little off to 
  the right. She stops to cheer for her sister, "Where'd you learn to do that?"

Zerra watches as her sisters, do this thing rather well, but she still watches 
  in the sidelines. SHe notices Mehlani, as she seems to be the only other one 
  not trowwing things and trys to smile to the girl.

R'val winces, "ERm. Good shot, Maylia. Yikes, scary...."

Zerra
Zerra is a young girl of medium height, with bright red hair which is tied 
  back in a knot at the nape of her neck. Her large, clear blue eyes, look out 
  of a round freckled face. Her smile is warm and friendly, if she catches you 
  looking at her, otherwise, she is busily looking at her surroundings. Her 
  body is not yet defined as she is obviously still young. 
She wears a simple brown dress, well worn but made of good cloth, with 
  intricate stiching around the neckline, wrists and hem. If you look a little 
  closer you can see the stiching has been done by a steady hand and is a 
  patern of lines and dots. The thread is a lot newer than the material of the 
  dress and the yellow and brown colors of Zerra's home, Fort, are queit 
  prominent. 
She is 16 Turns, 2 months, and 2 days old.

Zerra proudly wears a simple three cord knot, red and black, with white woven 
  in the center. This knot shows she is a candidate for benden weyr.

Maylia tries to give R'val an evil grin before launching another rock, but 
  totally fails and laughs instead.

Mehlani's mouth turns up briefly at each corner as she nods to Caitria; then, 
  spying Zerra and catching her eye, the girl peers back at her quietly.

Ceria moves back to her pile of rocks and pikes up three, throwing them 
  rapidly at her snowman. She scores three hits in the center of the snowman.

Breenah picks up another rock and throws it hard. Holding her breath she 
  watches as it hits below the neckline. "I'm getting closer." She tells 
  herself as she quickly tries again.

T'saren blinks in surprise at Ceria's skill, whistling softly. "Nice shots, 
  Ceria. Dead on. Literally."

Makear grabs anouther rock and moves it about in her hand. She grins at Maylia 
  with an impish glint in her eyes. "All the times I got in trouble with 
  Leara, which was a lot trust me, I went to the lounge and took out my 
  frustration on the knife throwing game. After all that time, I guess I got 
  good at it, just a bit." WIth that she throws the 3rd rock and gets a little 
  off and hits him right in the face. SHe oohs at that would hurt.

Kassima beams, watching the Candidates with what you'd swear is a downright 
  proud expression. "'Tis a fine thing, when those who may become some of our 
  next riders take so quickly to the finest of life's arts!" she can't help 
  but exclaim. Restlessly, she keeps on making snowmen from what fresh snow 
  yet remains. As this isn't all that much, these are smaller and tend to be 
  missing body parts here and there.

Ceria blushes at T'saren's notice. She shrugs and goes to gather some more 
  rocks.

Caitria shakes her head a bit at Kassi, then asks of Mehlani, "Did you groom 
  Tsornin yesterday? He looked quite nice."

Mehlani smiles a little more up to Caitria, though her young face is still 
  quite sober as she nods to the woman.

Zerra smiles warmly to Mehlani, but then jumps as she catches Ceria's throws 
  in the corner of her eye. She blinks, eyes wide as she watches Ceria.

Breenah brings a rock close to her shoulder to better aim it. With all her 
  might she throws the rock and squeels in delight as it hits the nose of the 
  snowman's head.

Caitria gives Mehlani a grin. "I still think you should be a Herder, kiddo," 
  she comments, absently watching the rock-throwing.

T'saren raises an eyebrow at Ceria, then turns to watch Kassi at her snowman 
  making. He fingers his beltknife for a moment, then pulls it out and wings 
  it at one of the snowmen she just completed. The knife buries itself to the 
  hilt, just below where the heart would be.

Maylia shouts encouragement to Ceria, though her eyes flicker to T'saren, and 
  back again as Ceria blushes. She stares at the rock in her hand before 
  throwing it, managing a third hit though she did not impart enough velocity 
  on it to really make the hit hard.

Makear rapidly fires two more rocks at her snow victim and watches as one hits 
  true and anouther flies to far to the right. She then counts up her hits and 
  only needs on more.

Ceria grabs a rock off her pile and narrows her eyes slightly as she 
  contemplates her snowman. The rock is rather large and after a moment, she 
  throws it. It smashes into the snowman's head, knocking it off the body. The 
  girl quickly moves to repair the head, and she places it back onto the 
  snowman's midsection.

Mehlani admits to Caitria softly, "I've been thinking about it."

Kassima doesn't scowl, and doesn't frown, but instead laughs as the knife 
  thunks into the heart of the snowman. Extricating it neatly, she flicks her 
  wrist to send it shooting towards the snowman nearest Tas in turn. *Thunk.* 
  The spinning blade, tossed in an odd sideways arc, lands in the side of one 
  snowman's neck with enough force to upset its precarious balance. The head 
  falls off and rolls towards the bronzerider's feet.

Caitria ohs?, her attention turning fully from rocks to girl. "Thinking 
  positively about it, I hope?"

Above, Pleiath answers Gelth's bugle with one of her own. She turns a lazy 
  circle as she descends.
Above, Pleiath glides down from above.

Breenah gasps at the skill or the green rider as she watches the head come to 
  a stop. With more determination she throws another rock, only to see it miss 
  it's mark.

T'saren stares at the head for just a moment, swallowing hard before grinning 
  at Kassi and applauding her throw. "And here I was thinking the balance 
  wasn't good enough for throwing," he chuckles, lifting his knife from the 
  now headless snowman.

Makear frowns as Maylia reminds her with a quiet whisper that she has to get 
  all of them in a row. scrounges up some more rocks and begans again.

Pleiath backwings for a landing.
Pleiath has arrived.

Shrugging shyly, Mehlani gives Caitria a look not unlike that her sire is 
  known to give people who ask him, 'You Impressed _ANOTHER_ green fire 
  lizard?' -- which is to say, a shy little half-smile. But she murmurs 
  plaintively to Caitria, "I don't want to leave Benden Weyr, though...."

Maylia lends a little more strength to her next shot, determined to make a 
  solid hit. And she would have, too, if she'd left the arm attached were 
  there's a red-wine soaked stump. The rock whizzes past the snowman, plunking 
  into snow.

Caitria nods rather sympathetically. "Apprentices are usually posted to the 
  Hall, though." She ponders for a moment, then says, "Tell you what. Why 
  don't I talk with Leara about this, and see if we can work something out, 
  how's that?"

Emlyn slides down Pleiath's shoulder to her forelimb, then jumps to the ground.
Emlyn has arrived.

In the skies above, The clouds begin to move away, leaving the sky crystal 
  clear.

R'val pats Maylia's shoulder consolingly and smiles, "Nice shot>"

Ceria tidies up her snowman and then moves back to throw more rocks, each one 
  hitting it's target, the snowman's midsection.

Emlyn looks up at the clearing sky. She tugs off her flying helmet and runs a 
  hand through her short hair.

Caitria lifts a hand in greeting to Emlyn, but turns most of her attention 
  back to Mehlani.

Mehlani's head quirks a bit, making the bronze keeping her company chirple and 
  have to resettle himself. "You could do that?" Her voice actually gains a 
  little volumne -- it would seem that the lass is eager about this.

Makear fires three shots rapidly and watches as the thrid one makes a deep 
  dent were the snoe victims heart would be. She decides to clean up the thing 
  when she finally gets all 5 hits.

Caitria lifts a shoulder in a shrug. "I can try," she says, with a slight 
  grin. "Leara's not too positive about Weyrs in general, but I can give it a 
  go, see what she says."

Maylia smiles up at R'val, commenting, "Sure, it would've been if I'd not 
  given him a severed arm..." She turns back, contemplateing her snowman with 
  the spear sticking from its abdomen again. Sizing him up, she sends a stone 
  flying at him, to embed just next to the spear.

T'saren cleans the snow from his blade while waving to Emlyn. He bends down 
  and picks up the snowman's head, carrying it to Kassima and presenting it to 
  her with a flourishing bow. "Just trying to get 'a head' in the world, 
  Kassi?" he asks with a grin and a wink.

Mehlani's eyes brighten up, and for an instant, she smiles widely up to 
  Caitria, showing white teeth in her pale young face. All she says, however, 
  is, "Alright...!"

R'val chuckles softly, "Ah well, one must take into account such things...>"

Emlyn returns the waves and speaks up, "Expecting another Fax to arise, are 
  we, even though there hasn't been a disaster like that in over 300 turns?" 
  She nods at the 'head' T'saren is carrying.

"A good thrower," Kassi says, with no false humility, "can throw regardless of 
  balance... though it does have some impact on the *effectiveness* of the 
  throw. Has anyone gotten five hits yet?" Taking the head from Tas, she 
  surveys it a moment before burying one of her belt-knives in its skull. "One 
  might say that."

Caitria chuckles quietly, and patpats Mehlani's shoulder. "But I'm not going 
  back to the Hall until I finish the most recent batch of hidework, so I 
  should get on it." She gives everyone a wave, and starts the trek across the 
  bowl.

Ceria turns to Kassima. "I have," she admits with a blush.

Mehlani nods gravely to Caitria, then looks somewhat askance as she realizes 
  this leaves her alone on the fringe of the knife-throwing crowd.

Dathon walks here from the north.
Dathon has arrived.

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. Presently, Dathon's clothes are rather soaked with melted snow.
Carrying:
Leather Firelizard Rest(#15926Js$)
Tapestry: Fountain with Firelizards
Abstract Flame Tapestry

T'saren laughs and nods at Kassi's comment, tucking his knife back into its 
  sheath as he turns to Emlyn. "And Faranth forbid another one," he murmurs 
  before retreating to a safer spot to watch.

Breenah shakes her haed sadly. Would you mind showing me again how to aim. I 
  don't think I am doing it right." Bowing her head she sighs softly.

Caitria doesn't notice Mehlani's glance, as she's already partway across the 
  bowl.
Caitria walks north.
Caitria has left.

Dathon trails into the Bowl, a faint phosphine miasma still hanging about him. 
  He looks up, studying the whole crowd, and unobtrusively scuttles over to 
  stand beside Zerra.

Emlyn looks more than a little irritated at the knife-throwing practice, 
  though she makes no effort to leave.

Zerra moves over to stand near Mehlani, eyes still on the rock throwers, 
  watching them carfully, 'Hello.' she smiles to Mehlani.

Kassima simply nods, pulling another throwing-blade from her boot and offering 
  it hilt-first to Ceria. "Be careful," she warns. "I keep these razor-sharp. 
  You hold it by the blade, thusly, and the art of the throw is mostly in how 
  you move your wrist." She nods absently to Tria, acknowledging the departure 
  of she who helped her to sculpt the snow-emasculator one snowwomen is 
  holding.

Makear fires her last two stones and grins as they all hit mark and the last 
  comes close to going all the way through. She then quietly crunches through 
  the snow and repairs her cratory victim.

Maylia shakes her head in answer to Kassi's question, as her second shot in a 
  row smacks into the speared snowman. Before throwing the next, she takes a 
  deep breath, concentrating. And she's returned to a score of zero as this 
  rock flies wild over the snowman's shoulder.

Mehlani blinkblinks up at Zerra, then at Dathon as the fellow joins the older 
  girl. To Zerra, she murmurs shyly, "Hello..."

Dathon raises an eyebrow, noticing the various "holy" snowpersons. He rummages 
  inside his voluminous jacket, finally locating a leather... something which 
  he straps over his shoulder.

R'val winces, "Tough luck, Maylia."

Ceria reaches a hand out to Kassima, taking the knife carefully. She stares at 
  the blade carefully for a few moments before looking back at Kassima. 
  "How..." she trails off.

T'saren steps up behind Maylia, wary of stray rocks. "You aren't doing too 
  bad, but your aim seems off a touch," he comments to her softly.

Emlyn attends to something Pleiath tells her. The greenrider nods and rejoins 
  her dragon.
Emlyn uses Pleiath's forelimb as a step and seats herself between the green's 
  neckridges.
Emlyn has left.

Zerra smiles and continues her shuffle dance, moving from one foot to the 
  other, 'I'm Zerra.' she smiles and extend her hand to Mehlani.

Ceria glances over at T'saren and Maylia briefly, before turning timidly back 
  to Kassima.

Dathon looks at you for a moment.

Mehlani turns to Zerra more fully; the bronze on her shoulder croons amiably, 
  as the girl puts forth a slender, callused hand. "My name is Mehlani," she 
  murmurs, her voice soft.

Kassima extricates another blade from the sheath strapped to her arm, hidden 
  by the sleeve of her jacket. Balancing it for but a moment, she transfers 
  her grip to the blade. "Watch carefully," she instructs Ceria, though her 
  voice is pitched loudly enough to call attention from anyone else who might 
  feel like listening... even if the greenrider's scratchy, hoarse, and 
  nearly-croaking voice isn't that pleasant to listen to. She sends the blade 
  spinning once again, so that it lodges right between the eyes of the snowman 
  carrying his own head. Red Tillek Swill gushes from the 'wound.'

On Pleiath, Emlyn urges her dragon aloft.

Pleiath takes flight, using the thermals rising from the bowl to carry her 
  aloft.
Pleiath has left.
Above, Pleiath flies towards the north end of the bowl.

Makear walks over to where ceria and Kassima stand she looks at Ceria with a 
  slight grin and then turns to Kassima and asks, "Can I try a knife now?"

Maylia nods, trying not to show her frustration. She takes a deep breath, 
  before asking T'saren, "Besides practice, is there any way t'get better?"

R'val smiles at Maylia and can't help answering, "Nope. Practice makes 
  perfect, as they say."

"Have you made your five hits?" Kassi asks Makear in turn.

Zerra grins widely and shakes the offered hand, admiring the flit on her 
  shoulder, 'Well meet. Are you a herder, like Master Caitria?'

T'saren glances at Kassi's hit and chuckles before turning back to Maylia. 
  "Practice helps, but so does a good teacher. Would you like me to show you a 
  bit?"

The girl with the bronze is evidently rather taciturn, for she simply shakes 
  her tousled auburn head to Zerra's question. The bronze, on the other hand, 
  trills brassily, pleased at the attention.

Makear nods in answer and glances over towards Maylia who is begining to sound 
  frustrated.

Ceria focuses her eyes on Kassima, tuning out all else. She watches as the 
  greenrider throws the knife, hitting the snowman between the eyes. She 
  carefully throws the knife at her snowman. She doesn't quite hit the area 
  she was aiming for, but she doesn't miss either. The knife lodges in the 
  lower lefthand edge of the snowman's midsection.

Dathon folds his hands and watches the knives fly with rapt attention. 
  Noticing the trilling bronze on the girl's shoulder, he turns slightly and 
  grins.

Maylia meets T'sarens eyes, a hopeful look on her face. "Would you?" She 
  quickly glances down at the rock in her hand. "It seems to be just luck for 
  me, so far."

Zerra smiles and respects the girls quietness, 'Ok,' she smiles and says to 
  the firelizrd, 'Ahh and hello to you too little sir.' she grins.

Kassima nods in what could only be approval, walking over to retrieve both 
  knives. "Nay bad. And thankee for nay aiming for where I hit. Hitting 
  m'blade once its in place could damage both, and I think you can understand 
  that 'twould nay be happy about that." She tosses one knife lightly to lodge 
  in the ground an inch in front of Ceria's feet, before spinning to regard 
  T'saren with narrowed eyes. "Are you saying she doesn't have a good teacher 
  then, bronzerider?"

Having viewed the lesson again, Breenah picks up anouther rock and throws it 
  strongly. Smiling at the hit, she takes another throw. This time she turns 
  too much and winces as her rock flies ascrew into the path of another's 
  throw. "Sorry." She calls out to the candidate, as she tries again.

The bronze on Mehlani's shoulder chirps proudly and sweetly, fluttering 
  red-tinged wings at Zerra. "He is Holl," observes the solemn girl he 
  accompanies.

Ceria flicks another glance at Maylia and T'saren before stooping to retrieve 
  the knife Kassima has tossed to her feet.

T'saren smiles softly at Maylia, nodding. "I'd be glad to." Kassi's whirling 
  on him takes him by surprise, and he shakes his head. "Not at all, Kassima. 
  I just meant a one-on-one session is sometimes better than a group lesson."

R'val smirks at T'saren briefly , before turning his attention back to the 
  group.

Zerra grins and nods respectfully to Holl, "nice to meet you Holl.' she 
  chuckles and reatches out to sritch the lizard, looking to Mehlani, to see 
  if she can/

Mehlani bobs her head softly, letting Holl set the pace in this. The bronze 
  leans forward, craning his little head at Zerra, eyes beginning to whirl 
  quite bluely.

Zerra chuckles and sritches the litlte one's eye ridges, smling as she does.
Zerra looks at you for a moment.

Kassima scowls, evidently not entirely mollified. "I suppose," she grates, 
  "that you've a point in that. I've always found group lessoning t'be 
  effective when 'tis the mere basics that are being taught, but what the 
  shells! What do I know? Go *right* ahead, Assistant Weyrlingmaster." 
  Forcibly smoothing her expression, she focuses her attention on the 
  already-damaged snowman and works on making as many holes in it with her 
  throwing-knives as she can. The poor thing looks downright mutilated by the 
  time the greenrider's thrown all of her blades.

Another chirple, this one a little off-key, emanates from Dathon's shoulder 
  and a small bulge in his jacket. A little squirming and scrabbling ensues, 
  and a bronze head peers out from his collar. The Candidate mutters something 
  to the firelizard, who chirps again, clambering out onto his shoulder from 
  under his jacket.

Mehlani peers over at Dathon's emerging bronze, and for another moment, the 
  lass gives a small smile, each corner of her mouth curling up.

Maylia rubs the stone in her hand, giving Kassi an unsure look. As the she 
  truns back to working with the knives, she looks up to T'saren. "Alright, so 
  where do we begin?"

Ceria narrows her eyes as she grips the knife carefully and looks at a fairly 
  untouched snowman nearby. Her eyes seem to flash slightly as she 
  concentrates on the snowman. She throws the knife and hits the snowman's 
  midsection, once again, off-center.

R'val smiles, and murmurs a congratulations to Ceria at her shot.

Dathon grins to the girl. "I'm Dathon, and this - " - with a gesture to the 
  small nuisance on his shoulder - "is Lanzecki." He holds out a hand, but 
  (pre-empting him to it) the little flit holds out his head for a scritch.

Zerra chuckles as Lan emerges from Dathon's jakect.

T'saren winces at Kassima's ire, glad that target snowman isn't him. The words 
  'Don't taunt a proddy greenrider' run through his head and he winces, then 
  turns back to Maylia. "Okay, first we'll look for a good rock that right for 
  you." He begins digging through a small pile of stones, coming up with one 
  that's nicely shaped and handing it to Maylia.

Suzot walks here from the north.
Suzot has arrived.

To Dathon and his companion, Mehlani bobs her head gravely again; her own 
  bronze sits back up on her shoulder and surveys the two young people before 
  him, evidently deciding they are authorized to be in his person's presence.

Ceria flashes a smile at R'val, a strange expression on her face. She goes 
  over to the snowman and pulls the knife out and then walks back to her place.

Maylia compares the rock handed to her with the one she had in her hand, 
  noting the differnt size and shape. She drops her first rock into the pile, 
  smiling to T'saren as she does so. "Okay, next?"

Suzot walks out into the Bowl after her day at Candidate chores plus 
  re-cataloging some of the ales she'd bottled during harvest-time. She 
  frowns, spying the lineup of people throwing things at snowfigures, and 
  hangs back a ways to watch.

Kassima fetches her various knives from the skull, midsection, and 
  'below-the-spear' section of the snowman in question. She replaces each in 
  its proper area, lifting the snowman's head from its neck and tossing it 
  idly from hand to hand. Not that it *looks* much like a head anymore. "How's 
  the knife-work coming?" she inquires of the two Candidates who've already 
  progressed to blades.

T'saren slips his knife from its sheath again, holding it at the ready. "Okay, 
  now see how I'm holding the knife? Hold your rock the same way." He watches 
  Maylia to correct any slightly off parts of her stance.

From his perch on Dathon's shoulder, Lanzecki Lanzecki chirps peremptorily, 
  neck still outstretched towards Mehlani. He chrrrrs in an obvious attempt to 
  endear himself to the girl.

Above, Ularrith bugles to Gelth as he slides easily through the layers of 
  crisp air, circling lower and lower into the bowl. He skims low across the 
  South Bowl, his rider leaning out and peering down, but as M'rgan sees the 
  flashing of knives, he is urged to land in the North Bowl instead.

Mehlani's mouth curves into a slightly larger smile; she doesn't look very 
  surprised at Lanzecki's crooning, as if she's received this sort of 
  treatment before. But she also looks pleased, and she lifts a dainty hand to 
  scritch the little beast even as Holl peers curiously at the other flit.

Breenah steps back to free her spot for another to take. "I think I'm to stiff 
  to do any good tonight." She rubs her arms as she walks over to the 
  spectating people and turns to cheer on her fellow candidates.

Maylia examines how T'saren's holding his knife, and tries her best to mimic 
  his stance, and hold. "Like this?"

Ceria smiles at Kassima. "I think I'm doing ok. I could definitely be doing 
  better though," she says.

From his perch on Dathon's shoulder, Lanzecki produces an oddly pleased trill 
  in his throat, cocking his head at the girl. He directs an enquiring chirp 
  at Holl.

Zerra smiles watching Dathon, Mehlani, and their pets , standing rocking on 
  her heels.

T'saren nods to Maylia as he walks over, making a tiny adjustment to her grip 
  on the stone then stepping back. "Now, it's just sighting on your target 
  area and giving a hard flick of your wrist. Like so," and he flips his knife 
  at a nearby snowman, watching the blade burrow into the snowman's throat.

On Mehlani's shoulder, Holl welllll... okay, if you insist. He chirrups 
  magnanimously enough at Lanzecki, allowing him to distract Mehlani's 
  attention. For now, at any rate. But the bronzeling nuzzles up close to the 
  girl's hair, his tail curled possesively around her neck.

Suzot looks at you for a moment.

Dathon turns, distracted as Breenah approaches. He directs a quick grin her 
  way, then his attention is dragged away kicking and screaming by the little 
  bronze troublemaker on his shoulder.

Mehlani ohs, very softly, at Lanzecki's ruckus, her small hand jerking back 
  out of the way.

Suzot crosses her arms, walking slowly behind the lineup of those practicing 
  and teaching. Not that one can see her arms, as she's taken them inside her 
  cloak for warmth.

From his perch on Dathon's shoulder, Lanzecki chirps, his tail curled tightly 
  around the Candidate's throat. Dathon shoots an edgeways look that could 
  stun a wherry at the little bronze, who relaxes his hold.

Ceria holds the knife carefully by the blade and after a moment, she hurls it 
  at a snowman. This time, the knife hits a little closer to the center of the 
  snoman's midsection.

Kassima frowns abruptly, flopping down into the snow to sit beside one of her 
  snowmen. Almost absently, she uses her wherry-skewer to start carving chunks 
  of snow from his already misshapen form. "Bloody greens," she mutters. 
  "Bloody, sharding, effing greens. Can't go for even a *moment* without 
  complaining."

R'val glances warily at Kassima, his attention drawn from watching Maylia 
  learn.

Maylia does her best to imitate the motions this time, after giving the 
  snowman a long, hard look. Focussing on her target, she takes aim, and 
  launches, the stone embedding itself in the shoulder. Not quite within 
  Kassi's specifications, but closer than most of her shots had hit. She looks 
  at T'saren, a smile beginning.

Ceria jerks her gaze to Kassima as she flops down onto the ground. She eyes 
  the greenrider nervously for a few seconds. Then she carefully retrieves the 
  knife from the snowman.

Breenah glances at Dathon and his flit. She reaches into her pouch and pulls 
  out a piece of smoked wherry. "Mayhap, he's hungrey." She offers the meat to 
  him.

Emmy has arrived.
Ceria Emmy takes flight.

T'saren turns to look over his shoulder as he overhears Kassima's muttering. 
  He frowns, then glances back just in time to see Maylia's throw. "Much 
  better!" he says, walking over to remove his knife and her stone from the 
  two snowmen. "All you need now if a bit more practice at improving your aim."

Dathon, his attention drawn by the soft muttering noises, peers anxiously at 
  the greenrider. A rather loud squawk from Lanzecki draws his attention back, 
  and he pauses long enough for the little bronze to snatch the smoked wherry 
  and tear at it in a rather feral manner.

Mehlani edges slightly away from Zerra and Dathon, her blue gaze slipping to 
  Kassima; the girl chews her lower lip a moment, and starts quietly creeping 
  away.

On Mehlani's shoulder, Holl flitters, looking more restless now, and 'Lani 
  lifts a hand to calm the creature, almost by reflex.

Kassima glares irately at those who glance at her, whoever briefly. "What're 
  you staring at?" she snaps, her already mercurial temperament taking a 
  sudden turn for the worse. "Get your eyes back in your sockets where they 
  belong!"

Ceria starts to walk away from the snowman, her gaze still resting on Kassima. 
  She almost walks into T'saren as he's retrieving his knife. She blushes and 
  mumbles an apology before continuing to walk.
Ceria quickly snaps her gaze away from Kassima. Emmy chitters at her pet.

Dathon jumps back a bit, his right hand flicking instinctively to his left 
  shoulder. THe corners of his mouth tighten a little, but he quietly turns to 
  the snowmen.
Suzot turns a contemplative eye upon the proddy Greenrider. Without a word she 
  turns back for the Weyr proper.

Suzot walks north.
Suzot has left.

T'saren murmurs an 'it's okay' to Ceria, hoping she heard him as she walks on. 
  He sighs at Kassi's temper, then removes his knife and the stone from the 
  snowmen and returns to where Maylia stands, handing over the rock 
  wordlessly, still sneaking glances at the proddy greenrider.

Makear walks over to the group of Breenah, Dathon and Zerra. She smiles in 
  greeting and then glances back at Kassima, before she quickly looks away.

Mehlani mutters only, "Tsornin..." And abruptly whirls, darting off in a 
  flurry of auburn hair and bronze wings for the beasthold.

[Later...]

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 late 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:
T'saren
Emmy
Lanzecki
Janus
Dathon
Ceria
Maylia
R'val
M'kla
Suzot
Salless
Scrap of Hide
Athena(#9341V)
DRINKS, courtesy of Apprentice Suzot and Journeyman Enpici.
Obvious exits:
Lower Caverns  Kitchen  Bowl  

Janus swallows more of his klah. His eyes are riveted to the hide before him: 
  a rather fascinating description of a case study from Gar Hold.

At least the sting of his wound cuts through a bit of the emotion-fog, and Tas 
  responds to Ceria's sypathy with a bit of a shrug. "Something you learn to 
  deal with," he mutters, more to himself than anyone else.

Mehlani slips, very quietly, into the cavern, and aims straight for the 
  kitchen, trying to look as unobtruive as possible. Even Holl, riding his 
  usual vigil on her shoulder, seems smaller than usual, hunkered down 
  half-tucked under the girl's hair.

Suzot hands a wineskin to the last of the riders who've come to the cavern to 
  vent their frustrations on alcohol; presumably the others have found other 
  outlets elsewhere.

Ceria gives T'saren a slight nod and glances at Dathon again.

Dathon nibbles on his lower lip, the wrinkles fading a little from his brow. 
  He finishes the klah, and his eyes are now a little darkened.

Ceria continues to watch Dathon unobtrusively as she sips her klah.

Maylia keeps moving between tables, filling wine glasses for those that prefer 
  to use them, handing skins to riders who've finished thiers off.

T'saren drains his wineskin, but shakes his head at Maylia's offer of a 
  replacement. Letting the last of his frustration drain from his body, he 
  slowly reaches out with his uncut hand and pulls his knife from the table, 
  tucking it back where it belongs.

Suzot goes behind, taking the empty skins and setting them in the buckets 
  provided for that purpose. Each trip back, she brings out one or two more 
  skins for those who need extra consolation.

Mehlani ducks into the kitchen, ducking the bleary gazes of the exhausted 
  riders. Well, almost all of them. The girl flicks a plaintive little frown 
  around, and when she returns a few moments later from the kitchen, she's got 
  two, and not one, mugs in her hands. She stops by one of the older riders in 
  the rooms, leaves the steaming mug at the lady's elbow without giving so 
  much as any other sign of her presence, and creeps back towards the Bowl.

Dathon exhales silently, turning to Ceria and striding slowly across to her. 
  He seats himself, looking suddenly tired.

Janus mutters to himself after finishing his reading. Looking up and noting 
  the pace of activity in the cavern, he decides that he probably should go 
  and check on things in the infirmary. Its about now that that things start 
  getting interesting there. He wishes those close to him a "G'eve" and stalks 
  out, his very large mug of klah in one hand, hide tucked under his arm.

Ceria watches Dathon with concern. "You alright?" she murmers softly.

Dathon nods. "The flight - " He breaks off, sighing quietly.

Ceria leans closer to Dathon. She mutters to Dathon, "My first day at the..." 

Janus walks towards the inner cavern.
Janus has left.

Mehlani, quite visibly blushing, clings to the mug she's claimed, and sneaks 
  off outside again.