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:
	12/31/97

Log Cast:
	(People) Girad, Ofira, Jorenan, Mehlani, Tamali, Kassima, Kaylira (NPC),
Sandar, Ceria, K'ti, K'dar, Kathall, Davidon, Silanda, Tinya

	(Firelizards) Rianet

Log Intro:
	The stakes have been upped in the undeclared competition between at
least two young men to bestow gifts upon Mehlani. So far the score has been
a hat and a songbook from K'star, brown Indyth's rider, and a vest and a
green firelizard egg from his brother E'rian, green Milleniuth's rider. But
they aren't the only young men in the Weyr who have had their eyes on 'Lani
as of late... and Jorenan, for that matter, has his Craftmaster bent on
pairing him up with Mehlani come Thread or high water. Fortunately, Mehlani
hasn't quite figured out the extent of Ofira's intentions...

----------
Your location's current time: 12:40 on day 16, month 4, Turn 21, of the 
  Tenth Pass. It is a spring afternoon.

You walk through the large entrance to the 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 mid-day 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:
Ofira
Girad
Pierron
Obvious exits:
Lower Caverns  Kitchen  Bowl  

Girad puts the towel back on his head. "I Vidat and I hunt wherry." He growls 
  like mad, circling around the fork.

Ofira turns and waves to Mehlani withthe hand that's not holding the plate, 
  as she stands in front of the wriggling child. She waves the fork at Girad, 
  "Oh no, big blue Vidarth, don't eat me!" she squeaks.

Padding quietly as usual into the cavern, Mehlani pauses a moment to survey 
  the scene before her, and she nods somewhat unsurely to the child-occupied 
  Ofira.

Girad giggles. "No, Vidat don't eat mommie, Vidat hunt wherry!" His mouth 
  closes around the fork and he eagerly starts munching.

Ofira sighs with relief , seeing that the boy will actually eat something 
  today. "Ooh, vidarth, you're so quick!" she laughs.

From the kitchen, Jorenan trudges into the kitchen from the direction of the 
  store rooms. He goes about doing basic preparations for the evening's meal. 
  The wherries are already roasting, of course, so he's working on all the 
  things that go with it.

Glancing at the child, Mehlani smiles faintly to herself, and slips off in 
  search of a snack for the green fire lizard on her shoulder.

Girad heehees. "Vidat hunt more. More wherry, no greens!"

Ofira hmms and sneaks a little bit of mashed tuber under some wherry on the 
  fork and proffers it again.

And Mehlani slips out, after silently acquiring a meatroll.

[While 'Lani takes refuge in the Records Room, Ofira continues to try to
 feed her rambunctious tot...]

Girad growls again and strikes for another kill. After that he throws off 
  the towel. "Enough hunt. Now bubblies."

Ofira shakes her head, "More lunch first."

Girad sits down properly. "Bubblies better. Too much hunt makes tired."

Tamali comes in from the bowl.

Ofira smiles and offers Girad the fork, "Here, try this, dear one." She looks 
  around and waves to the young woman. "Hello."

From the kitchen, Jorenan glances out into the Living Cavern to see what's 
  going on. Then he continues with the dinner preparations. A wild grain mix 
  first, as a side dish. Whiteroot miniatures and their relatives get sauteed 
  in oil as a first step.

Girad takes the fork in his hand, the food sliding slowly downwards.

Tamali sort of nods to her.

Ofira sighs a little, "Girad...mommy has to work soon...come on...another 
  bite?" she begs.

Girad tilts his head at that pleading sound. "Okay, mommie."

From the kitchen, The scent of sauteeing whiteroot wafts along on the air 
  currents. Soon the addition of herbs and citron peel is added to it.

Ofira smiles and dumps in another forkfull of peas and tubers. "Good boy!"

From the kitchen, Jorenan glances up from his work and calls out to Ofira, 
  "I see someone's enjoying the meal! Good to see it." Then he continues 
  with his work. The grains themselves are sauteed until they're golden, 
  and then he adds broth and puts the whole mixture in an oven to cook.

Ofira smiles and calls back to Jorenan, "Of course. Little dragons always 
  enjoy their wherry!"
Ofira turns as the nanny makes her appearance and reluctantly lets her heard 
  Girad off, to finish feeding him his meal. "I'll see you later, darling, 
  wehn I'm done working."

Tamali looks at the child...for a long moment.

Girad starts crying as the nanny wants to take him. "Mommy, kiss dragon."

Ofira smiles and gives Girad a hug and a big kiss. "I'll see you a little 
  later and we cnan read a story, okay?"

From the kitchen, Jorenan chuckles. "Of course," he replies, and then goes 
  on to the next part of dinner. It's roasted fingerroots with some kind of 
  light, sweet sauce over the top.

Girad beams. "Story! Yes." He laughs and meekly follows the nanny.
Girad walks towards the inner cavern.
Girad has left.

Ofira sighs and wipes her hands on her apron and makes he rway to the kitchen.
Ofira walks off towards the kitchen.
Ofira has left.
From the kitchen, Ofira enters the kitchen from the living cavern.
From the kitchen, Ofira comes in and washes her hands briskly, looking a bit 
  pensive.
From the kitchen, Ofira goes over to see what Jorenan is doing.

Kassima walks in from the bowl.
Kassima has arrived.

"Vrooooooooooom!" a young voice can be heard to yell just before Kaylira 
  pelts into the room, her brown dragon held over her head. She's followed 
  by a somewhat haggard, but very amused-looking Kassima. "Flap! Flap!" The 
  two-Turn-old makes several grand swooping gestures with the toy before 
  finally coming to a halt, favoring the room in general with her best smile, 
  and dashing back over to Mum. "Afternoon, all," Kassi offers in a somewhat 
  less hyper fashion.

Tamali shakes her head slightly at the undignified child.

From the kitchen, Ofira looks over Jorenan's shoulder to see what he is 
  preparing.

Kaylira is indeed anything but dignified, and she climbs up onto one of the 
  chairs next to Mum's--after Kassi's seated herself, of course--before 
  waving enthusiastically to Tamali. "Hihi, strange lady!" she pipes up. It 
  takes a tug on her arm from Kassi to get the child to actually sit down. 
  "The garlic and vinegar did this to her. I know they did," the greenrider 
  mutters, shaking her head.

From the kitchen, Ofira looks out and calls a greeting to Kassima. "What's 
  Kaylira today? Girad is a dragon - Vidarth, namely."

From the kitchen, Jorenan glances up at the dragon-child as well, and then 
  grins at Ofira. "It's that fingerroot recipe you wanted to try, ma'am. The 
  one with the sweet sauce. I think the dill is going to add a nice tang to 
  it."

"You mean besides a hellion?" Kassi calls back, laughing. "The wind, I think! 
  She's been flying all over the place with Dagonth--that's her brown dragon, 
  y'see. Faranth help him. She's already crash-landed the poor thing twice. 
  What did Girad do?"

From the kitchen, Ofira sighs adn replies to Kassima before turning to 
  Jorenan, "Oh, he just refused to go to the necessary and insisted he could 
  go between instead. Messy, you know." She looks at the fingerroots and 
  nods. "I'll bet they'd like some of that at the minecraft hall."

From the kitchen, Jorenan blinks at Ofira very thoughtfully. "Minecraft?" 
  he asks politely. "Why them, in particular?"

Kassima grimaces at the very idea, giving her daughter a wary look. The 
  child, blessedly, is just muttering things to her 'dragon'; total nonsense, 
  really. A trait she no doubt inherited from her mother. "Remind me t'be 
  glad that Kay hasn't tried that one, would you? Like some of what at the 
  Minecraft Hall?"

From the kitchen, Ofira calls, "Oh, a fingerroot recipe Jorenan is working 
  on. He has to make a tripthere anyway." She turns to the apprentice, "You 
  _do_ plan to visit there, don't you?"

From the kitchen, Jorenan blinks again. "I..." He pauses, looks at Ofira 
  carefully, and then decides to just go with it. Whatever 'it' is. "Yes'm. 
  I do. What was it you wanted me to do while I'm there, again?"

Kassima's brow furrows, and she pushes herself out of her chair to wander 
  closer to the kitchen--and, not inconsequently, the food. "Why? And really, 
  I don't know if'n they'd be much in for fingerroots. They prefer cookies 
  and alcohol, or so I've found."

From the kitchen, Ofira sighs a little, "Well, he can take those too, 
  Kassima, I suppose." She fumbles in her pocket and finds a couple of marks 
  and hands them to Jorenen.,"Now, don't forget. Something simple and 
  delicate. I know you want to impress her, but anything too heavy or 
  ostentatious won't look right."

Kassima eavesdrops on Ofira's words to Jorenan shamelessly and warily. "Who's 
  he trying to impress, Ofira?" she wants to know. "You're right about the 
  jewelry. Mehlani seemed pleased--and a bit thunderstruck, poor lass--when 
  Eyr gave her that pendant."

From the kitchen, Ofira nods, "Exactly!" She looks at Jorenan, "See? Now, 
  when you've picked something out, you show me and we'll go over what you 
  say, alright?"

Kassima just shakes her head, piling some undercooked liver and frosted 
  lemon squares together onto her plate. "Why nay let him decide what t'say 
  himself?" she calls into the kitchen. "As a wise and somewhat crazy man 
  once said, if'n you don't develop your own style of phrasing, it won't 
  sound sincere. Who're you after, Jorenan? Miriam?" She names a Lower 
  Caverns girl seemingly at random. "I've heard she has her eye on you, 
  y'know."

From the kitchen, Ofira sighs and tsks, "Kassima, I'm his Craftmaster. I 
  have a responsibility to see him properly trained and ready to take his 
  place in hold, hhall or weyr."

"Aye," Kassi drawls as she resumes her seat, handing Kay a smaller plate of 
  better-cooked liver, greens, and some fresh fruit. The girl tears into it 
  all with gusto, strange child that she is. "But 'twas unaware that how to 
  charm the lasses fell into the catagory of Crafter training! Reason 
  number... hrm.... one-thousand, seven-hundred and two t'be glad I'm a rider 
  rather than a Crafter or Holder, that would be."

From the kitchen, Jorenan looks moderately stunned. "I..." He blinks. "Aye, 
  ma'am. Sometime delicate." The poor boy looks somewhat like a fish caught 
  out of water unexpectedly. He's not yet realized that he can't breathe, but 
  he's very sure something is dreadfully wrong. "Who's Miriam?" is the next 
  thing that comes out of his mouth. "Oh, never mind. I don't think I want to 
  know." He starts again when he looks at the mark-pieces in his hand. He 
  considers protesting for about a tenth of a second, and then just puts 
  them in his pocket. His voice is a strangled whisper now. "Thank you, 
  ma'am. Thank you very much."

From the kitchen, Ofira nods approvingly and pats Jorenan on the shoulder. 
  'You can go later, after you're done working on dinner. By tomorrow you 
  should be all set." She calls back to Kassima, "It is quite the 
  responisiblity,I'm afraid," she agrees, "But I won't shirk my duty."

Kassima yells helpfully, "Oh, you know Miriam! That brunette Caverns lass 
  with the blue eyes, who's always smiling at you? Really, I'd think you'd 
  have noticed. Half of the rest of the Weyr has, m'lad." Grimacing, she 
  shakes her head at Ofira. "Matchmaking. Gah. Faranth preserve me from 
  any and all of it, nay matter who 'tis directed at."

From the kitchen, Ofirasighs again, at Kassima's mention of Miriam. "That's 
  just the reason I'm getting involved kassima, " she calls, as if Jorenena 
  isn't even there. "I don't need him falling prey to every lower caverns 
  girl who spots a good provider in a succesful crafter."

Kassima wrinkles her nose at that. "Who says she needs a provider?" the 
  greenrider wants to know. "Mayhaps she just likes him, eh? 'Tis nay as 
  though she has to have anyone t'provide for her; the Caverns lasses seem 
  t'do well enough on their own, when they choose to."

From the kitchen, Ofira nods, "I suppose so, but still, what girl wouldn't 
  want a successful crafter. I'lll have to keep a close eye on Jorenan or 
  before you know it, he'll be neglecting his studies and we can't have that. 
  No, he needs a good, steady, serious girl." she says firmly.

Kassima remarks offhandedly, "I didn't note that your work started suffering 
  when you began seeing R'val, Ofira... and I'll tell you what girl wouldn't 
  want a successful Crafter. *I* wouldn't want a successful Crafter. Or at 
  least, nay just *because* he were a successful Crafter. Are you saying that 
  women can't see past a man's shoulderknot?"

From the kitchen, Ofira frowns slightly, "R'val and I are a completely 
  different matter. I hardly looked at a man until I was journeyrank. " She 
  seems quite puzzled as to anyone finding a crafter undesireable.

Kassima turns to her favorite weapon in debates like this: Kassilogic. "Are 
  you saying that Jorenan will never be promoted, then? By saying that 
  Journeyranks don't necessarily have to have stable, sane loves, yet 
  Apprentices do, and then by trying t'shackle Jorenan to a stable girl for 
  what I take it you mean t'be more than just a Turn or two... well...." She 
  shakes her head sadly, wiping a stray piece of liver from Kaylira's chin.

From the kitchen, Ofira frowns, not entirely following, but feeling somewhat 
  insulted. "It's a craft internal matter," she says, half defensively and 
  half haughtily. "I wouldn't expect a rider to understand."

Kassima sighs. Simply sighs. "Nay more would I," she retorts, tugging Kay's 
  stuffed dragon out of the girl's lap so that it won't become a catch-all 
  for food splatters. "Nay because I'm a rider, but because I don't 
  understand trying to match up a lad with a lass, will they, nil they. Why 
  nay let him decide if'n he likes her, and she him? 'Twould be more apt 
  t'be lasting that way. At least, so K'star seems t'think. E'rian's going 
  more with this whole gifting and flattery idea, and t'tell the truth, I'm 
  nay entirely certain which one of 'em is having better success."

From the kitchen, Ofira hmms thoughtfully at this. "Really?" She looks at 
  Jorenan appraisingly, "Well, perhaps I need to rethink my strategy here," 
  she muses.

From the kitchen, Jorenan listens to everyone talk about him as if he's not 
  even here. He turns back to working on his fingerroots quietly. Perhaps 
  this is something that's happened to him before. The only note that he's 
  heard any of it is the pink cast to his ears. He blinks as Kassi suggests 
  he'll never be promoted if he links up with Mehlani. Suddenly, Mehlani 
  sounds a whole lot more interesting. Figure that one out, if you dare.

From the kitchen, Ofira simply nods thoughtfully, "Well, let's get on with 
  the fingeroots, but you 'll still go to the minecraft tonight and we'll 
  see from there."

"Dear Faranth help the young men and women of this Weyr," Kassi mutters, 
  spearing a forkful of cookie crumb-covered liver for herself. "And praises 
  be to the First Egg that I'm a rider. Matchmaking, feh. Arranged matches 
  are always disasters, y'know. Hey, Jorenan!" She lifts her head to yell 
  back into the kitchen. "Mayhaps they'll have some jeweled belt knives 
  there or something! Bet your young lass could use one of those, nay matter 
  who she is."

From the kitchen, Ofira smiles, "You know, that's not a bad idea at all 
  Kassima." She says to Jorenan, "you could have it inscribed."

From the kitchen, Jorenan looks up while slicing fingerroots. Which ought 
  to give an indication of just how discomfited he is. He never does that. 
  Luckily, he -doesn't- slice a finger off in the process. "A jeweled belt 
  knife," he says. "Is that delicate?" Then he goes back to his slicing. 
  His face changes slightly, as if his panic has transformed itself into 
  a slightly manic humor about the whole thing.

From the kitchen, Ofira nods, "Oh, yes, you can get something very finely 
  made, not too large or unweildly. Actually, Kassima is a better person to 
  consult on it than I am. I dont' carry a belt knife."

Kassima shakes her head in denial, apparently not recalling that Jorenan 
  can't see. "Delicate? Oh, shells, nay. *Good* knives aren't delicate, 
  except mayhaps the throwing ones. You need a sturdy, strong knife. Mayhaps 
  for hunting! You need a knife like *this* one." She sets down her fork of 
  liver to unsheath and brandish her wherry-skewer proudly. "A'course, a 
  knife can be light and ornamental and all, but delicate... bah. 'Twould 
  never hold an edge, if'n 'twere as delicate as all of that!"

From the kitchen, Jorenan's eyes go to Ofira's belt. Sure enough. Who'd've 
  thought it? Then he continues his slicing. He obviously thinks Kassima 
  will offer her advice with the prompting Ofira just gave, and that he 
  won't ask any further. Ah ha, she did!

Kaylira turns her head to watch Mum and her ever-present wherry skewer with 
  something approaching awe. She tugs on Kassi's sleeve, and points. "Wanna 
  knife."

From the kitchen, Ofira sighs and shakes her head slightly, seeing all her 
  plans go awry. "I don't know. Something like that seems like a much more 
  serious gift than might be appropriate at this stage...."

Kassima blinks, and hastily resheaths the skewer. "Nay, you don't," she 
  assures her daughter. "And even if'n you do, you're nay getting one." She 
  turns her attention back to the kitchen, ignoring Kay's pouting. "Let me 
  get this straight, Ofira. He's nay gotten to the point where he can say 
  what he wants to her, or use his own marks for a gift, and yet it should 
  be one that's serious?"

From the kitchen, Ofira gives up on the fingeroots and just goes to talk to 
  Kassima, leaving Jorenan to commune with them.
From the kitchen, Ofira walks into the Living Cavern.
Ofira walks in from the kitchen.
Ofira has arrived.
Ofira sits down, smiling at Kaylira and then explains to the child's mother, 
  "No, no. I think his gift should strike a balance,you know. Not be too 
  serious right now, just get her attention. As for matchmaking, it's a good 
  time honoered process. That's how my parents met and they've had many 
  happy turns and six children."

Kassima waves her fork of cookie-besprinkled liver at Ofira, a motion that 
  is copied somewhat more vigorously and less elegantly by Kay with her fork 
  of greens. "That much I suppose I can understand... if'n he *wants* her 
  attention. But I really must disagree with you about matchmaking. From what 
  I've seen, the more you push someone--especially a youngster in their 
  teens--towards something, the further they run from it." Matchmaking trauma 
  is what led Kassi to her system of arguing against absolutely every aspect 
  of weyrmating she can think of, after all. "It depends somewhat, I think, 
  on the person. Who are you trying t'pair him with?"

From the kitchen, Jorenan glances up at Ofira and Kassima, a slight smile 
  crossing his face. Their plans will certainly be interesting, when they 
  finish with them. The expression on his face suggests that he might even 
  follow them. Loosely. Very loosely. Or maybe not. It depends. He goes back 
  to his fingerroots, seeming suddenly entirely too calm about all of this.

Ofira decides to keep this to herself for the time being and replies, "Well, 
  maybe you have a point. My parents had a most appropriate match chosen for 
  me, which I refused, But really, I shouldn't have, and I was hoping Jorenan 
  would have more sense than I did as a girl. At the least, he has me to guide 
  him."

From the kitchen, Jorenan tries to look sensible as he moves from the 
  fingerroots to the sauce that goes with them. Sweetening, a dash of white 
  wine, the lightest of the sweet spices, and just a hint of citrus to tie it 
  to the river grain dish. Very sensible, he is.

Kassima asks with real interest, pulling Kay into her lap--or what's left of 
  her lap--to take a shot at mopping the girl's face while talking to the 
  Baker at the same time, "Why d'you think you shouldn't have? Was that nay 
  the first step on your path towards being the Craftmaster of one of Pern's 
  best-loved Crafts? Would you have traded all these Turns for a marriage 
  with an 'appropriate' lad, then? I'm afraid I can't understand that. 
  M'parents both had an eye towards finding a match for me when I decided I 
  wanted t'travel Pern for a bit, though fortunately there was naught 
  arranged. I don't know that choosing your own path in life is such a 
  foolish thing. Would he choose... who is she, again?"

From the kitchen, Jorenan manages not to look -too- relieved when Kassima 
  turns the conversation in a new direction. But his face does shift a bit 
  when she asks that last question. Kassi's sharp, and that's a fact.

Ofira shakes her head, evading the question yet again. "Oh, I still could 
  have been a baker and I wouldn't have had to lose one weyrmate, bury 
  another and I might have a few more littles by now. Not that I'm 
  complaining, but I can see the sense in what my parents wanted. They were 
  quite appalled at the choices I made."

"*Could* have been," Kassi stresses, "but nay necessarily would have. I feel 
  'tis folly to try and second-guess what might've been. There are a thousand 
  and one paths you *could've* taken, and who's t'say which one would've been 
  the best?" She shifts Kaylira in her lap as the girl listens to all of this 
  with interest. "Still, mayhaps he'd choose this girl on his own anyway. 
  What's her name?"

Ofira laugsh and looks at Kassima fondly, "I'm not going to tell you," she 
  teases, 'it will give you something to puzzle over on those quiet evenings. 
  Now, given alll we've said, I suppose you don't want to talk about a 
  possible handfasting for Kaylira and Girad?" she jokes.

From the kitchen, There's something no one's yet asked Jorenan, whether he'd 
  like Mehlani on hi own. And likely no one's asked Mehlani about it, either. 
  Jorenan's face is still, but the faintest of thoughtful frowns is probably 
  not there because he's focusing on the measurement of the wine.

Kassima chuckles and observes, "Must be Mehlani, then. Well, we'll see... 
  both of m'cousins have their hearts set on her too, y'know, and even 
  though their riders, you can't imagine more honorable men than either one 
  of 'em--though if'n you say that to their face, they'll deny it to their 
  final breath." Winking at the Baker, she simply laughs and shakes her 
  head. "I think nay! At two Turns? Shells, that's young even for the Weyr! 
  I think I'll let Kay choose for herself when she comes of age, thankee!"

Ofira says ruefully, "I can't see Girad letting me decide for him anyway. I 
  can hardly get him to eat or bathe or sleep. Imagine telling him he had to 
  handfast a certain girl."

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

From the kitchen, Jorenan glances up. Hmmm. So he's more pliable than Ofira's 
  own son, then? Hmmm. That might just be enough to get him annoyed.

Kaylira blinks her dark grey eyes at Ofira and announces, "Don' wanna be 
  han... han...." She tries to repeat the Baker's word, her tiny brow 
  crinkling. "Handfast. Wanna be a *dagon*. Big, brown dagon."

Sandar hops onto a bench, blissfully ignorant of the conversation at hand, 
  and sips at his purplish beverage.

Ofira smiles at Kaylira and nods. "That's a good idea," she agrees. "Girad 
  wants to be a big blue dragon. Do you remember Girad?"

Kassima rolls her eyes at her daughter's life's ambition, and grins. "I know 
  the feeling of that, I think. The minxlet here's agreeable to just about 
  aught--provided that she can get some fun out of it! Evening, Sandar."

Sandar smiles at Kassi. "Good evening, Kassi," he says cheerfully.
Sandar says "would you like some of my special wine?"

Ofira looks up and smiles, "Oh, Sandar, didn't see you. 'Evening."

Sandar waves to Ofira, "hello Master Ofira... wine?"

From the kitchen, Jorenan gives Sandar a subdued wave. He looks happy to see 
  the assistant steward; maybe he'll distract Ofira and Kassima some. That'd 
  be a pleasant change of pace.

Kaylira considers, reaching for her brown dragon toy and hugging it to her. 
  "Blue? Bah. Brown's better. Or geen, like 'Ysseth." She beams up at the 
  Baker. "Or bronzie, like Nicki!" Her pet name for her father's dragon, 
  apparently. "Girad?"

Ofira shakes her head, "No thank you. I really should be working!" She gets 
  up to head back to the kitchen.

Sandar waves to Jorenan.
Sandar replies to Ofira, "it's really good though. It's made from 
  seabeachplums."

Ofira looks over, "Really? Just a taste then. it sounds interesting."

Sandar nods and pours Ofira a smidge of the sweet smelling wine.

Kassima shakes her head, though she does peer curiously at the wine. "Can't 
  have wine," she reminds the Steward with a wrinkled nose. "Nay for two 
  and a half months yet. What's so special about it?"

Ofira smiles, "Thank you," she tells Sandar and then takes a taste, mulling 
  it over thoughtfully.

Sandar says "it's a traditional wine... though I'm not sure where the 
  tradition started. It was sent to me from friends at the Weavercrafthall. 
  It's a slight bit stronger than normal wines, and sweeter, and yet, leaves 
  a dry aftertaste... with just a hint of... well, something."
Sandar takes a sip as though trying to discern what it might be.

Kassima's right eyebrow quirks upwards. "Sounds like the Flirk's klah of 
  winedom, without the mintiness," she observes.

Sandar acks. "It's nothing like Flirk's klah," he assures the rider.

Ofira finishes her taste and nods, "it's quite good, if sweet. I think I'd 
  like it for flavoring a cake. Something with dried fruit in it."

Sandar grins. "I'll get you a flask," he promises.

Ofira smiles at Sandar, "That's awfully kind of you. I'll be sure you get 
  one of those cakes, if they turn out well."

Sandar grins. "Sounds like a deal."

Kassima sighs rather forlornly, jerking her head back just in time to avoid 
  being hit by Dagonth. Kaylira's swooping the toy around again. "Drat. If'n 
  there were a version of wine that had Flirk's effects, I'd purchase a 
  bottle straight away--and keep it for m'self and folk who don't have a 
  thing for running about the Weyr naked with mushrooms in unmentionable 
  places, thankee. Personally, I think 'twould be better poured over 
  spinach."

[And about this time, Mehlani comes back...]

Ofira makes her way to the kitchen, looking forward to the logic and 
  calmness of tubers and fingeroots.
Ofira walks off towards the kitchen.
Ofira has left.
From the kitchen, Ofira enters the kitchen from the living cavern.

From the kitchen, Jorenan shudders. Sweet wine over spinach. Shudder. He 
  finishes with the fingerroots, and they go into the ovens near the river 
  grains. Next is a large salad of dark greens, sweet whiteroot, olives, 
  and crumbly strong cheese.

Sandar gives Mehlani a grave wave in anticipation of one of her nods.
Sandar then can't help but give her a cheerful grin. "Good afternoon, 
  Mehlani," he smiles.

From the kitchen, Ofira goes over to the oven to check on the dishes, "Looks 
  good Jorenan," she tells him.

Mehlani slips cautiously in from the Bowl, Rianet taking the sentry watch 
  on her shoulder at the moment. She's got a hide in one hand, and she smiles 
  a little at Sandar, though her gaze flicks nervously around the cavern.

Sandar says "Mehlani, would you like a bit of seabeachplum wine?"

Well, speak of the wherry. Kassi wiggles her fingers in a greeting to 
  Mehlani, while Kay seems to find waving her stuffed dragon at the girl a 
  better form of greeting. "Afternoon, 'Lani. What's that hide you've got?"

Mehlani blinkblinks and tilts her head to Sandar slightly, in query. She's 
  got her other hand on Rianet, who seems bent on trying to get the delicate 
  silver chain around Mehlani's neck into her mouth. To Kassima, she murmurs, 
  "Father has sent me a letter."

From the kitchen, Jorenan nods to Ofira. "Thank you, ma'am," he says. He's 
  as solemn as Mehlani ever is. He finishes washing and tearing up the greens, 
  and moves on to the whiteroot and then to the viniagrette dressing that will 
  go with the salad.

Sandar takes that as a no, then quiets to listen to any news of Benden that 
  Mehlani might have. Not that he's ever been to Benden, nor has he met the 
  girl's father.

From the kitchen, Ofira watches Jorenan for a bit and then goes about 
  preparing a casserole of rivergriains and summer squash and mushrooms to 
  go along with dinner.

"Oh? Sounds interesting," Kassima quips, nudging Kay back off of her lap and 
  onto a chair now that her face is reasonably clean. "I hope for your sake 
  'tis naught like the letters I get from my relatives--though those *are* 
  good for the amusement value. Any good news?"

Mehlani casts a wary glance towards the kitchen, before slipping into a 
  chair near Kassima. She considers, and then says softly, "Father says that 
  Tzornth has caught three greens since he became Weyrl--since we left. And 
  the water shortage has stabilized, although Benden is still taking care 
  with water usage."

From the kitchen, Jorenan watches Ofira for a moment, and quirks an eyebrow. 
  Well, two rivergrains dishse is probably a good idea, on second thought. 
  They're always popular. So he continues with with the salad. Perhaps he 
  tries to think of something else to say, but nothing innocuous enough comes 
  to mind.

From the kitchen, Ofira looks over and explains, catching the glacnce, "I 
  wanted one with mushrooms for those that like them. I know we have to be 
  careful of Kindre, but I still like to use them sometimes."

Kassima chuckles at the first half of that news. "I'm nay 'tall surprised. 
  Tzornth always was a canny dragon. Have you any more sibs on the way?" Even 
  V'dan leans forward to hear the answer to that question, unsurprisingly. 
  It's common knowledge by those who follow Thunderbolt's betting pool that 
  he has several marks on twenty-some F'hlan spawn eventually being born. 
  "Now that last, that's *fine* news. Mayhaps now the water will start being 
  replenished by the spring rains."

From the kitchen, Jorenan ahs. "Aye, ma'am. It looks like a good mixture." 
  He puts the final touches on the salad he's made, and then puts it in the 
  cooling area to await serving. Then he goes on, without pause, to the 
  sliced cheeses that will be part of dinner. He glances up and asks Ofira, 
  "I'm thinking both white and yellow cheeses. Is that all right with you, 
  ma'am?"

Blushing just a trifle, Mehlani murmurs, "Father says that Lanneth was the 
  last green Tzornth caught, and that Faarla thinks that she is pregnant 
  now."

From the kitchen, Ofira nods to Jorenan, "Put out a bit of that Fort cheese 
  as well, and we'll see how it goes over," she recommends.

Kassima grins, evidently pleased by that news. "Marvelous! Whenever I next 
  visit ho--Benden, 'twill have t'be offering them m'felicitations." There 
  are several muted cheers from a smattering riders at the table, accompanied 
  by distraught groans from those who thought they'd won the pool at seven.

Mehlani murmurs, "Faarla is very surprised, and so is Father!"

"Can't say I blame her," Kassi remarks. "Isn't this her first youngling? That 
  sharding Water hasn't lost one iota of its power, for all of its relative 
  scarcity."

From the kitchen, Jorenan shudders at the mention of that awful stuff. But 
  he nods, and goes to get the smelly stuff. He fixes a pleasant-to-look-at 
  platter of cheeses, with the Fort monstrosity in the midst of the edible 
  stuff. There isn't anything to be done about the smell, though. That, too, 
  goes into the cool area to await dinner.

Ceria walks here from the Inner Cavern.
Ceria has arrived.
Ceria walks off towards the kitchen.
Ceria has left.
From the kitchen, Ceria enters the kitchen from the living cavern.

Mehlani nods earnestly to Kassima's query; aye, evidently, Faarla has never 
  had a child before.

From the kitchen, Ofira looks up from mixing the summer squash with plain 
  yogurt an dgreets Ceria.

From the kitchen, Jorenan looks up, and then grins at the new Journeyman. 
  "Hullo, Ceria," he says with a grin. "Guess you won't be helping with the 
  garden anymore."

Kassima muses, leaning back in her chair and reaching out to finger-comb Kay's 
  hair absently, "I wonder what she'll name the spawnling... or spawnlings. Hrm. 
  If'n 'tis a girl, Falala might make a good monicker. Did your Da say which 
  ones she's considering?"

From the kitchen, Ceria nods to Ofira and smiles at Jorenan. "I should still 
  be able to help you," she says, glancing at Ofira for confirmation.

"Not yet," says Mehlani softly. Ceria's arrival in the kitchen is noted by the 
  lass, and a hint of relief flickers across Mehlani's blue eyes. She deftly 
  plucks Rianet off her shoulder before the green can make another dive for the 
  silver chain about her neck, and Ria creels in protest.

Sandar tries to think of names you get when you cross Fahlan and Faarla, but 
  the only thing he can come up with is Faaaaa. He shrugs and sips at his 
  seabeachplum wine, keeping quiet.

From the kitchen, Jorenan cocks an eyebrow at Ceria, and then looks 
  thoughtful. "You won't be assigned somewhere else?" he asks. Perhaps being 
  promoted wouldn't be so bad after all, if that's the case.

From the kitchen, Ofira smiles, "For now, we need a journeyman here. Ceria's 
  time to travel will come later on. We can't all have glamorous postings you 
  know," she teases.

From the kitchen, Ceria grins and blushes slightly.

Kassima nods, not looking too surprised by that either. "Can't say that I 
  blame her, i'truth. I've still nay thought of any names for the spawnling 
  that strike m'fancy, and I've had several months... how far along is 
  Faarla, anyway?"

"The flight was a month and a half ago," is Mehlani's grave reply, "But 
  Faarla only just figured out that she is, uhm, well." The lass shrugs a 
  little, holding Rianet carefully away from her necklace. The green wriggles 
  in 'Lani's hands, staring fixedly at the pendant; she wants the shiny 
  thing!

From the kitchen, Ofira returns to mixing, adding the sliced mushrooms, "What 
  are you working on today, Ceria?"

Kaylira, evidently bored with her swooping brown dragon, slides off of her 
  chair and meanders on over to where Sandar is. "Whazzat?" she demands, 
  pointing at the wine with the hand not occupied by her toy.

From the kitchen, Ceria turns to Ofira. "I found some herbs that I used a lot 
  at home. I thought I would use them to make a spiced sweetbread," she says.

Kassima nods somewhat absently, for her attention has been caught by Rianet's 
  struggles to steal Mehlani's pendant. "She really likes that particular 
  piece of jewelry, doesn't she?"

From the kitchen, Jorenan quirks his mouth. If he'd known that.... Well, but 
  he didn't. So he just goes on to the baked fruits that will be dessert.

Sandar smiles at Kaylira. "Is wine," he replies. "A drink for grown-ups." 
  Although Sandar is only 13, he's somewhat more grown-up than Kaylira.

"It's because of the chain, I think," says Mehlani, timidly. Rianet settles 
  down, but stares fixedly up at the necklace in question, her eyes whirling. 
  Want that!

From the kitchen, Ofira nods, "It's going to be a fine dinner , " she smiles, 
  "Ceria, see if Sandar will give you a taste of the wine he's got - from 
  seabeach plums. I'm thinkingof using some to flavor a cake."

"Don' *look* like wine," Kay stubbornly insists. "Wine's *red*. An'... an'... 
  an' shiny an' stuff." She apparently isn't quite sure how better to 
  describe it. "S'*wet*," she further adds with a stamp of her foot for 
  emphasis.

Mehlani glances to Sandar, her brow furrowing. Seabeach plums?

From the kitchen, Ceria glances out toward Sandar. "It sounds like it would 
  make a good cake flavoring," she offers.

From the kitchen, Ofira nods, "I thought so," she agrees, going over to find 
  the cooked rivergrains, brown, not white. "How is D'thon?" She's had enough 
  of torturing Jorenan for a while, now it' s Ceria's turn.

Kassima grins, fingering the chain on her neck that holds her pendants in 
  place. "Some 'lizards do like shiny things," she agrees. "I Impressed 
  m'first fire-lizard by showing him his reflection in a chain and luring 
  him over that way. Have you considered getting her one of her own t'play 
  with? She might leave yours alone then."

Mehlani blinks -- evidently, she hadn't considered that at all. She shakes 
  her head slowly to Kassima, still holding Rianet firmly in her lap.

Sandar nods to Kaylira. "Yup, is wine, made from seabeachplums. Very sweet 
  tasting. Maybe one day I'll let you try some, when you're a bit more of a 
  grown-up. Although already you're getting to be quite a big girl," he says 
  helpfully.

"You could get a simple one fairly cheaply," Kassi comments, stabbing another 
  piece of crumb-dusted liver. She really seems to be enjoying her cookies 
  and liver mishmash. "At the Smithcraft tent at a Gather, perhaps. Mayhaps 
  Kes or Eyr would be willing to take you t'see a Crafter and pick one out, 
  if'n 'twere so minded."

From the kitchen, Ceria turns slightly pink. "He's fine," she says simply.

Her eyes widening, Mehlani blinks a few more times at Kassima. "I... am sure 
  they are busy with their wing duties," she blurts. "I would not want to 
  distract them..."

"Seeeeebepums," Kaylira tries to repeat. "Seeeebepums. Sweet?" The girl 
  apparently recognizes that word at least, and turns entreating grey eyes on 
  the Assistant Steward. "Sweet?" she repeats hopefully, holding out one 
  small hand.

From the kitchen, Ofira nods, working industriusly, "Glad to hear it." She 
  looks over at teh fruit, "How about a pudding," she muses.

From the kitchen, Ceria moves to get the ingredients for her sweetbread. 
  "Pudding?" she asks, glancing back at Ofira.

Sandar nods to Kaylira. "Sweet, but this is a grown-up drink," he says. 
  "However, maybe I can find you a seabeachplum you can eat. They're quite 
  tasty, and you'd like a real plum much better than this drink."

From the kitchen, Jorenan pauses in his preparation of the dessert fruits. 
  He looks up at Ofira, and then asks, "Were you talking to me, ma'am?"

From the kitchen, Ofira thinks a little, "no, a custard. To have along with 
  the fruit."

Kassima twirls her forkful of meat around, watching the liver wibble. "Oh, 
  quite probably," she agrees. "But even riders have days off sometimes, and 
  I've little doubt they'd be willing t'spare an hour or two for you."

Kaylira plunks down to a seat on the floor, a crease appearing between her 
  eyebrows. This is getting all too complicated for her. "Want sweet," she 
  informs the Steward, just in case she hadn't made that clear.

Sandar nods to Kaylira. "Well... hmm," he says, looking around, eyes resting 
  on a tray of dragon cookies on the counter that aren't mixed with liver. 
  He looks to Kaylira's mom to see if it's okay if he offers her one... better 
  a cookie than wine.

From the kitchen, Jorenan ahs, and nods. "That sounds good," he agrees. "I'll 
  get to it right after these go in to bake."

From the kitchen, Ceria quickly and efficiently mixes her ingredients into a 
  dough which she begins to knead.

Kassima looks up at her daughter's declaration, and nods. "'Tis all right," 
  she assures Sandar. "She ate plenty of liver and greens for lunch, like a 
  good lassling." Kaylira just beams. She always has had peculiar tastes in 
  food, for a child.

Kes and Eyr might be willing to give her a couple of hours... but to go to 
  a _Gather_? Mehlani abruptly blushes, and mumbles, "I should probably just 
  ask the Weyrsmith..."

Sandar nods, grimacing a bit, as he reaches for a big brown dragon cookie. 
  "Here you go," he smiles at the little girl. "A big brown dagon for you."

Kassima shakes her head, rising from her chair with some difficulty; she's 
  more unwieldy than she used to be. "Our Weyrsmith specializes in weaponry, 
  so I know nay whether she could manufacture such a thing... but you could 
  ask. Kaylira! Your foster-mum's expecting me t'get you back to her; we'd 
  best be going." Kaylira takes the cookie and chirrups a sweet, "Thankee!" 
  to the man before running over to Kassi as fast as her toddler legs can 
  carry her. "Clear skies, all."
Kassima walks towards the inner cavern.
Kassima has left.

From the kitchen, Ofira finishes mixing the dish and takes it to the oven and 
  then slips out to the storeoooms to get some eggs.
From the kitchen, Ofira pushes her way past scurrying kitchen girls and into 
  the storeroom passageway.

Mehlani blows out a breath as Kassima heads off with her tot, and gives her 
  fire lizard a bemused sort of glance. Rianet, still staring longingly at 
  her pendant, just coos.

From the kitchen, Jorenan glances up, suddenly tuning in to the conversation 
  in the Living Cavern. Sneaky, sneaky Kassi, setting up a smith-trip with 
  those boys when he's got to go to the minecraft on a similar errand. His 
  brows furrow in thought while he starts in on the custard Ofira suggested.

From the kitchen, Ceria gives Jorenan a curious glance as she continues to 
  knead the bread dough.

From the kitchen, Jorenan comments to Ceria, "Ofira likes to meddle 
  sometimes."

From the kitchen, Ceria grins. "Oh, really?" she says, raising an eyebrow.

Distracting Rianet appears to be a good idea. Mehlani rises carefully, 
  scooping the green up into her hands, and moves to the cookies Sandar 
  had previously been eying. If there's something that fire lizards seem to 
  tend to like more than baubles, it's food, and it doesn't take long before 
  Ria's attention has been snagged by a nice decorated cookie.

K'ti walks in from the bowl.
K'ti has arrived.
K'ti pads in, bumps into a chair and decides it's the perfect place to sit. 
  Sit, she does, aimlessly, frowning and clasping her hands over the table.

Near a table on which rests a platter of dragon cookies, Mehlani appears to 
  be trying to distract her green fire lizard with one. Rianet, perched on 
  'Lani's palm, is _mostly_ going along with it, nibbling at the cookie, 
  although she's also still eying that nice shinything her human is wearing.

K'dar walks in from the bowl.
K'dar has arrived.

K'dar
        A tall, blond man stands before you. As befits his new circumstances, 
he has laid aside the well-cut, conservative clothing of his earlier days. 
Now he wears flying leathers, trousers and jacket, over a simple white shirt. 
All of the garments show signs of being new, perhaps acquired when he 
graduated from weyrlinghood. He still wears some of his prior adornments 
though; the ring given him by Tiya still rests on his hand in prominence. It 
has recently been joined by another ring, celebrating his graduation.(+detail 
available) The knot on his shoulder is that of a rider at High Reaches Weyr, 
a thread of brown running through it to denote his lifemate's hue, and a 
badge marks him as a rider in Glacier Wing. 
         The man moves gracefully, and appears to be considerably more than 
average in strength. A fitness inculcated into him in his days in Ruatha's 
guard is now a helpful aid to his life as a weyrling. A bright intelligence 
shines through his grey eyes, and his face seems somehow wise. He also seems 
to bear about him an air of command, perhaps unconscious. 
         He stands just short of two meters high, at six feet four inches, 
and appears to be quite healthy and robust, though his face and hands are 
marked with myriad scars, small enough to be almost unnoticeable. He is 24 
Turns, 0 months, and 13 days old, though his face shows experience and 
control far beyond those years. Since his Impression, his face is often 
smiling inexplicably, sharing some communion with his brown lifemate, and 
even when Leventh sleeps, K'dar's face remains brightened by the total 
union

Sandar waves to K'dar. "Telgar's greetings to High Reaches," he bids 
  politely, and with a smile.

K'dar pauses in the doorway, blinking. With a grin, he says, "And High 
  Reaches' to Telgar. I'm K'dar, rider of brown Leventh"

Mehlani glances up from where she stands, trying to feed her green fire 
  lizard a cookie. She bobs her behatted head gravely to the rider.

Sandar smiles. "I'm Sandar, Assistant Steward here. Can I get you some 
  seabeachplum wine?"

K'ti raises a brow, something catching her attention. She turns and nods to 
  the rider, "G'afternoon t'ye, then."

K'dar blinks again. "Seabeachplum? I don't think I've ever tried that.. a 
  small serving, please"

K'ti speaks up, "Sandar, s'there annathing stronger back there y'might have? 
  Nae much, though."

Sandar nods to K'dar, pouring him a small vessel of the wine. To K'ti he 
  replies, "this is a bit stronger than ordinary wine," he assures her. "Can 
  I get you some?"

Mehlani unobtrusively slips towards the hearth, staying out of the wine talk.

K'ti nods her head, "I coul' use it. Aimin t'get a bit of courage up."

Sandar grins and pours a second serving. He brings the wine to the two 
  riders. "Here you are," he says.

From the kitchen, Ceria finishes kneading the bread dough and she sets it 
  aside to rise.
From the kitchen, Ceria walks into the Living Cavern.
Ceria walks in from the kitchen.
Ceria has arrived.

K'dar arches an eyebrow. "What feat awaits you, if I may ask?"

Ceria walks out toward Sandar. "Could I try some of that wine?" she calls.

Sandar smiles to Ceria. "Sure," he replies as he goes over to pour another 
  serving. He brings it to the Baker to try.

K'ti takes up the glass carefully, taking a sip of the drink. At a pause she 
  says, "openin up part o'a past I never thought I'd see. Ain't sure I 
  wanna." A bit of a nod, "Annathin in particular bring ye t'Telgar?"

Ceria takes the wine from Sandar and takes a small sip. She holds it in her 
  mouth for a moment before swallowing and she nods. "Ofira was right. It 
  would make a good cake flavoring," she says.

Sandar grins. "Pretty good on its own, too," he notes.

K'dar sips at the wine, and grins. "Well, the wine always seems to be 
  interesting. But I came because I had a letter to deliver.. thought I'd 
  warm up a bit before I went back"

Ceria smiles. "That too," she agrees, taking another sip.

K'ti stops before chuckling, "Warmin an Telgar are two different concepts, 
  physically. How woul' the weather up at Reaches be fairing this year?"

K'dar says "Still cold, but it's back up enough that Thread's stopped 
  obligingly dying for us"

From the kitchen, Jorenan returns from a trip to the storage caverns for 
  custard supplies. He begins mixing the sweetening, eggs, and butter that 
  will make the sweet stuff.

K'ti says "S'one thing t'say fer all the cold, I guess." Another sip of the 
  wine and she asks, "Y'said you'd a letter to deliver, I hope ye' found the 
  person well enough?""

K'dar nods. "For once they gave me a decent description to go by.. didn't 
  take me long at all"

K'ti nods and chuckles again. "S'a good thing. I always hated th'descriptions 
  that said 'He's tall.. y'can't miss 'im'. O'course at me height 
  *everyone's* tall an hard t'miss."

From the kitchen, Jorenan, at long last, finishes the last of the dinner 
  preparations and disappears out of the kitchens towards a well-deserved 
  break.
From the kitchen, Jorenan walks into the Living Cavern.
Jorenan walks in from the kitchen.
Jorenan has arrived.

Pierron tosses some dough into the air to make it as thin as a sheet to make 
  baklava.

K'dar sips his wine again, grinning. "I have the same problem in reverse. 
  And, have you noticed, they /never/ know the dragon's name? That one thing 
  could make it so much easier"

Remaining by the hearth, Mehlani keeps only some attention on the 
  conversation, while her fire lizard eagerly nibbles down the cookie -- 
  apparently, sweet things _are_ a good way to distract this creature. 
  Rianet, however, is not distracted long, and she promptly starts trying 
  to capture Mehlani's necklace once more.

Jorenan trudges in from the kitchens and heads for the klah pot. He pours a 
  mug and then casts a furtive glance around the cavern. His eyes rest on 
  Mehlani just for a moment, and then he goes to take a seat. Not -with- 
  her, precisely, but more in her general vicinity. A place where he could 
  converse with her easily, but where he won't intrude.

K'ti nods emphatically, "An they always give ye less information fer 
  th'more important letters. Jus 'nuff t'squeak past. Or if th'place is 
  miserable, enough t'keep ye looking. Now, fer once, I'd like one that'd 
  take all day down south, like Ista or Boll."

Ceria watches Jorenan unobtrusively as she sips her wine. She glances at 
  Mehlani, remembering something Ofira said.

K'ti sips the last of her wine then looks down into the glass. A bit of a 
  frown crosses her expression. She is a bit more relaxed though.

K'dar rolls his eyes, with an amused grimace. "It never seems to happen that 
  way, does it? Last one I had that took edges was a tiny little place up in 
  the 'Reaches. The canyon is simply invisible from the air..."

Kathall walks in from the bowl.
Kathall has arrived.

K'ti says "The one ye go baaack and forth and back an forth, an when ye find 
  it there's a nasty crosswind that makes ye have t'walk kilos?"

Kathall, arms full and warmly wrapped for the flight from Benden Hold, plods 
  her way inside, to a table to release her wrapped bundles. Then ... look 
  around. Hmm.

Ceria glances up as Kathall enters and she waves a greeting.

K'dar nods. Eyes dancing, he shrugs. "Well, that's our lot. It's a hard one, 
  to be sure"

Jorenan doesn't notice Ceria's look, since she's being unobtrusive and all. 
  He looks at the two riders curiously, since he doesn't know either of them 
  very well. Then he notices Kathall and nods to him. "Hello Kathall," he 
  says. "Long time no see."

Kathall catches on the wave and offers a brief, thin smile. On the way over, 
  she greets, "Ceria, Jorenan -- have you seen Kassima? I have something for 
  her. For you all, actually, to be fair."

Ceria offers, "I saw her in here earlier, but she left to take Kaylira back 
  to her foster mother."

K'ti says "Ah, that ye are right. I think I'm gettin too old fer it, though 
  it delights Jaralth. Y'think a dragon Impressed at Ista wouldn't adore 
  th'snow."

"Oh. Well." Kathall wastes a moment in fretful thought then shrugs. "She 
  wanted kiwi bread, and since we just got a basket from Southern, I made 
  some for her." Brown eyes light at the bakers, tangentially at the others 
  in the cavern. "I brought the raw fruit, too, if you want it?"

If Jorenan's being in her vicinity is an intrusion, Mehlani voices no 
  statements to that effect -- but then again, this _is_ Mehlani. What she 
  does say is a quietly murmured "Ria, stop that!" to her little green; then, 
  at the sound of Kathall's voice, the behatted lass glances up and nods 
  shyly to the newcomer.

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

K'dar smiles amusedly. "I might, at that, if I hadn't seen Margret's Aberuth 
  playing"

"That child is going t'give Simaeva white hairs by the time she's five and 
  twenty," Kassi mutters to herself, running her hand through her forelock 
  with a wry smile. "And if'n I escape without any grey 'tall, 'twill be a 
  miracle. Afternoon again, all--oh, Kathall! Duties to the Bakercraft and 
  her Masters--and to High Reaches and her queens," she adds cordially to 
  the visiting brownrider.

K'ti nods her head and chuckles. "He's twenty Turns of age and plays like a 
  youngling. O'course he does it when he doesn't think I know 'bout it. An 
  he feels I should love it too, an encourages me t'deal with it by bringin 
  snow t'the weyr."

Kathall bobs her head back to Mehlani. "Kathall, of Benden," she offers to 
  her, and then that /voice/ penetrates -- "Kassima? I brought you that kiwi 
  bread as you wanted, and duty to the Weyr and Lysseth, too."

"Mehlani," murmurs the girl with the hat, very softly, before she ducks her 
  gaze back to the wriggling green in her hands.

K'dar nods politely to Kassima, saying, "And 'Reaches' to Telgar" Then he 
  laughs, and shivers. "Oh, my.. I'm born and bred in the Reaches and I'd 
  still prefer to keep snow well away from our weyr"

Kassima grins at Kathall, lowering herself into a chair with an almost 
  inaudible sigh. "That would be me, aye. Kiwi bread?" Her eyebrows fly up, 
  and she leans forward immediately. "Y'mean that idea did work out? And you 
  have it? You'll let me try some?" There can be little doubt that she's 
  interested in the stuff.

Ceria finishes her wine and heads for the inner caverns.
Ceria walks towards the inner cavern.
Ceria has left.

K'ti looks towards the bowl and her own blue. She nods a bit then takes a 
  breath. "He's th'idea th'more I squeal, the more I love it. Got it from my 
  children, I suppose." She stops then looks down at the glass. "I almost 
  fergot. K'ti, Jaralth's rider here at Telgar."

Obviously interested. Kathall ventures a little smile for the green rider's 
  pleasure -- misses Ceria's departure -- and waves at the wrapped bundles on 
  a nearby table. "I was just telling Jorenan and Mehlani, we got some kiwi 
  at the Hold, I made the bread, and I brought it and some raw fruit, too. 
  If you want it?"

Kassima snorts, amusement clear in the sound. "Sounds like something children 
  would think, aye. Are yours both hellions too?" she inquires of K'ti before 
  flashing Kathall a wide smile. "*If'n* I want it? That's like asking *if'n* 
  dragons were meant t'flight Thread, Kathall! Y'know how mad I am for kiwi, 
  especially with pepper and ketchup."

K'dar nods, with a smile. "Well met. K'dar, Leventh's"

Kathall slides over to start fiddling with the goodies. "...Ketchup?" she 
  repeats, faintly incredulous, definitely dubious. "I hadn't heard /that,/ 
  I think.... Well, just let me know what you think of it." The loaf lies 
  revealed, no longer steaming from its time /between,/ but good and 
  golden-brown all the same. She glances around the group. "If there's a 
  knife, I'll slice it for you, I guess."

K'ti nods her heads, "Jaralth had said there was a brown coming down th'bowl 
  earlier." To Kassi she calls, "Y'c'n be betting, Kassi. Jaralth adores 'em, 
  they love him, an in th'middle they've been teachin each other things."

Kassima glances over and offers cheerfully, "Kassima, green Lysseth's. Well 
  met, and all of that sort of rigamarole!" She flips her belt-knife from 
  its place at her belt, spinning it about in her fingers for a moment before 
  she offers it to Kathall. "'Twill gladly let you know, Kathall, either with 
  the ketchup or without it. K'ti, let me just tell you that I'm glad Kaylira 
  can't take up Lysseth's trick of dumping me in the snow--else I'd never be 
  warm or dry, I swear it!"

Kathall accepts the knife gingerly (no natural wielder, she, unlike the 
  cheerful owner) and starts sawing on bread. "D'you want some, too?" she 
  asks Mehlani. "Or--" a diffident glance goes to the conversing riders 
  "--anyone else?" Intrusion's so ... uncomfortable.

K'dar chuckles softly. "That would be my lout, yes. He's still grumbling at 
  me because I dragged him away from his ledgemate"

Mehlani quirks her head a little, then quietly nods to Kathall, murmuring, 
  "Thank you..." More food is good. Maybe she can keep Rianet distracted.

Kassima gives Ylysse a pleading look as the bluerider heads for the food 
  table; with a grumble, the elder rider brings the younger a small bowl of 
  ketchup for her bread. "It looks delicious," Kassi enthuses after nodding 
  her thanks to Alymbrith's lifemate, evidently trying not to drool over the 
  bread.

Kathall peers curiously at Rianet, too, but Kassima gets the first slice, of 
  course. And a darker look after that ketchup. "I may not watch you eat it 
  like that," she apologizes. "It sounds pretty gruesome." Next slice to 
  Mehlani, and then she pauses, checking K'ti and K'dar again. Carefully.

K'ti says "I'm jus glad, Kassi, that neither of th'rug beasts c'n pick up 
  as *much* snow as Jaralth does in that wide maw of his t'drop on me while 
  I'm sleeping." She shakes her head at the bread when offered, "Thankye. 
  I'm tryin t'keep my wine pure as t'muddle me thoughts th'best.""
K'ti takes a deeper breath, "annaway, me problems do call, an I should at 
  least look th'package over. Pleasure talkin wi'ye K'dar. Perhaps we'll 
  talk at 'nother time. Kassi, hon, don't suppose ye could stop by later to 
  help? I... It's a long story. If y've got time, that is."

"'Tis quite all right," Kassima assures Benden Hold's baker. "Most people 
  aren't willing to watch; I'm used to it." Out of respect for the woman's 
  finer sensibility, she nibbles the first bite plain... and smiles slowly 
  with delight. "How much would I have t'bribe you t'make this for me more 
  often?" she asks wistfully, before winking at K'ti. Evidently, she 
  sympathizes with that sentiment.

K'dar blinks at K'ti, but nods. "Clear skies.. and good luck?"

Kathall picks a seat near (not too near) Mehlani and pulls the bread within 
  reach for more serving. "I may watch," she tells Kassima after a moment, 
  "if only out of morbid curiosity. Don't let me stop you, anyway." She nods 
  to K'ti, continues more quietly, "I don't think bribery's needed, though. 
  I don't mind, and all you need is the fruit to do it, really."

Rianet, glimmering silvery green in Mehlani's grasp, cranes up her head out 
  of the girl's hands and peers over at the bread. What's that? More food?

Kassima blinks, but says, "I'd be glad t'aid with whateer y'need, K'ti, so 
  long as it doesn't require much hoisting and lifting... Healer's orders 
  and all."

Kathall
Kathall is short but not delicate, being built instead along spare, blocky 
  lines, with her self-contained reserve grounded in a nondescript 
  appearance. Straight, medium-brown hair, pulled back in a short tail at 
  her nape, matches the round eyes too close-set in her plain face. Fair 
  skin owns freckles across her snub nose and the backs of her thin, capable 
  hands, whose measured gestures emphasize the economy of her contralto 
  drawl.
She looks almost twenty Turns old. A dull orange mantle covers her from 
  shoulders to ankles, nubby wool over a creamy linen underdress, high-necked 
  and long-sleeved, and worn brown boots. An apprentice's knot of baker red 
  and white, threaded through with Benden Hold's violet, adorns one shoulder.

K'ti pushes up from her seat, a bit unsteadily. Took that glass a bit fast 
  on an empty stomach. "Sanity needed more'n luck, but thankye. No Kassi, no 
  liftin, except moral support." She wobbles out the entryway.

Kassima dunks her slice of bread into the bowl of ketchup, and proceeds to 
  munch on the revolting-looking result. "I won't, worry nay," she informs 
  Kathall. "It's never stopped me a'fore. Clear skies, K'ti... 'twill see 
  you later, y'may be certain."

K'ti walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.
K'ti has left.

Kathall does watch this ketchup ritual, after all. Can't help it. After the 
  first munching, she blinks away. "If you're happy with the taste ... How 
  have you been, if I could ask? Your baby?"

Davidon walks in from the bowl.
Davidon has arrived.
Davidon shifts a heavy sack on his shoulder and waves to everyone in the 
  cavern, "Heyla! I made it back!"

Kathall raises her head from conversation with Kassima, from her own seat 
  near Mehlani and the promised kiwi bread, to focus on Davidon's familiar 
  face. "From where?"

Mehlani surreptitiously ferrets around in her pockets, till she comes up 
  with a knotted, well-chewed bit of leather; she dangles this before 
  Rianet, hoping to distract the little creature. It more or less works. As 
  Ria settles down to chew vigorously on the hide strip, one whirling eye 
  still on Mehlani's pendant, Mehlani herself glances up at Davidon.

Kassima swallows the bite, licking excess ketchup from her lips. "I'm very 
  happy, thankee, and I've been well enough--for a beached shipfish, 
  anyway," she grins. "The baby is determined to kick me black and blue. 
  And life, I will assure you, has never been less dull than its been in the 
  past few sevendays... Davi! You survived!"

Clatter-clatter, Davidon carefully sets the pack down, making a face at the 
  sounds coming from inside, "I hope nothing is broken... Oh, from 
  Greystones." he leaves the sack and goes to give Kassima a hug. "Your clan 
  says hello Kassi, I've things in there they insisted that I bring for you 
  and the little, and little-to-be."

Kathall nods along with Kassima's reply, returns to watching Davidon 
  curiously.

Silanda walks here from the Inner Cavern.
Silanda has arrived.
Silanda wanders out, sewing basket in hand.

Mehlani smiles a little at Davidon's announcements, while Rianet, in her 
  lap, has apparently decided to indulge in a game of Tug the Rawhide. 
  'Lani still has her end in her hand, and the little green yanks at the 
  end in her beak.

Kassima sets her ketchup-soaked kiwi bread down to hug Davi as best she 
  can, blinking at the sight of his earring, strange shirt, and unmoody 
  expression. "Well!" she exclaims, laughing. "That trip seems to have done 
  you all the wonders you said 'twould! I see m'kinsfolk have corrupted you 
  indeed. D'you still possess any sanity, or did they kill it all?" She waves 
  to Silanda in greeting, then tilts her head to get a look at the sack. 
  "Uh-oh. Should I even ask?"

Davidon
Looking at Davidon, you would guess he's somewhere around 22 Turns, 11 
  months, and 17 days turns old. A rough guess at his height puts him 
  somewhere around 6'0 to 6'2. His shoulders are broad and this arms and 
  legs thick and sturdy with muscles, he's clearly a man accustom to the 
  rigours of manual labor. The expression on his clean shaven face is 
  lighthearted and warm, as if he's just lifted a great weight from his mind. 
  That moody, sulking boy from before is gone. He has taken to wearing his 
  long, whitish-blonde hair in two braids that hang to the center of his 
  back. Pale golden lashes frame his large blue eyes, making them look as 
  dark as a midnight sky. There's a glittering of gold in his right earrlobe. 
  If you look closer you might notice the small golden ring dangling there.

The tunic Davi has chosen to wear today is so strangely dyed it's almost 
  painful to the eyes. Large tropical flowers in a multitde of unnaturally 
  bright colors dance around in wild patterns over what seems to be a 
  rather plain cotton fabric. The tunic itself is long sleaved and looks 
  comfortable,lacing loosely up the front and hanging to just below Davidon's 
  hips. His pants are baggy and comfortable looking, but dyed an unusual 
  sea-green color that matches at least some of the strange flowers of his 
  shirt.
        There is the faint scent of spices upon him that drift to you 
  awakening your senses.

Silanda blinks at what's on Kassi's plate, and sighs. "How're you, Kassi?"

K'dar stands, quietly making his excuses and murmuring something about drills 
  back at Reaches. He makes for the door, studiously avoiding the sight of 
  the ketchup-colored kiwi confection
K'dar walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.
K'dar has left.

Davidon waves hello to Silandra as he steps away from Kassi, smiling from 
  ear to ear. "I'm not sure. I'm slowly getting the feeling back in my mouth 
  after drinking that, stuff in the tavern." he smirks faintly and puts one 
  hand to the earring, the other to the shirt, "Do you like it? I like it!" 
  he grins down at the loud fabric.

Mehlani takes a moment to consider Davidon again, and then his clothing. The 
  clothing gets a longer, considering stare from Mehlani than she usually 
  gives anyone or anything, and that's saying something, for the attention 
  span she usually displays.

Kathall, for her part, slides shy attention at this tug-of-war spectacle. 
  Go, green.

Ria flutters her green wings, getting roused up by the tug-war. Yank yank 
  yank! Mehlani glances down at her pet, hanging on to her own end of the 
  hide strip, but she eyes Davidon's colorful garb sidelong as she does.

Kassima flashes a grin at Silanda. "Well, well! Tired, with a backache fit 
  t'beat a band of Harpers, and run ragged by the minxlet--but beyond 
  that...." She closes one green eye in a wink, then grins and salutes 
  Davi with her culinary horror. "It suits you, Davi. Suits you *quite* 
  well, though how 'twill go with your kilt...."

Kathall mutters to Mehlani, "... -- need... help with..."
Kathall whispers "Pardon me, but do you -- need any help with her?"

Silanda slips into her usual seat, seeming unsure whether to be more 
  frightened by Kassi's food or Davidon's shirt.

Tinya walks in from the bowl.
Tinya has arrived.

Davidon makes a big show of pushing back the arm of his shirt as he talks, 
  "Oh, they sent some clothes for the children, and some toys, and a thing 
  or two wrapped up for you, said if I looked they'd make a rug out of me if 
  I ever came back, or something like that. So, look at this." Proudly he 
  shows off the blueish-black linemarks on his forearm to the greenrider. 
  "Oh, my kilt? You know, I didn't think about that. I think the shirt with 
  all the lines will go better with the kilt though."

Kathall, perched near Mehlani with kiwi goodies spread on the table before 
  her, spares a look at Silanda, a murmur about kiwi bread if anyone wants 
  it (if Kassima isn't going to have it; first dibs).

Mehlani blinkblinks, her attention turning to Kathall, blue eyes widened a 
  trifle under her hat brim. Rianet seizes the opportunity to yank the hide 
  strip entirely out of Mehlani's hands, and croons in triumph, albeit 
  muffledly. The game is now Kill the Rawnhide, and Rianet settles down to 
  mangle her prize with gusto.

Tinya wanders in, looking slightly sleepy, her hair just a bit rumpled. 
  Mumbling a greeting, she heads straight for the klah pot.

Silanda smiles somewhat unsurely at Kathall and her kiwi stuff.

Kassima stuffs the last crumb of bread into her mouth and reaches for 
  another, though she restrains herself from just grabbing the whole loaf. 
  "They're insane darlings, all of 'em," she comments after the stuff has 
  cleared her mouth. Squinting at his arm, she blinks. "Davi, didn't I warn 
  you about Ethrian and Syraemia's experiments?"

Mehlani mutters to Kathall, "... if... any... trying... eat my..."
You whisper "Oh... thank you... if you know any ways to distract a fire 
  lizard... she keeps trying to eat my necklace..." to Kathall.

Kathall's mouth hooks sideways. "Sorry, Mehlani; she got it, after all." 
  And to Silanda's smile, she has to defend, "It's good bread, really. 
  Even without Kassima's ketchup. I brought two loaves and some of the raw 
  fruit for the Weyr." Then she murmurs back to Mehlani.

Silanda shrugs. "I guess I could give it a try...though without the 
  ketchup." She reaches for a piece, thoughtfully.

Kathall mutters to Mehlani, "... to... and... food... right?"
Kathall whispers "I'm sorry, I don't. None look to me, and I don't know much 
  about them. But food interests them, right?"

Mehlani smiles timidly, giving the greenling in her lap a relieved glance as, 
  at least for now, Ria's mind appears to be off the desired shinything. And 
  she bobs her head to Kathall, gravely.

Davidon shrugs, "Well, you did." he looks at his arm, then at Kassima, "But 
  I thought it would look good." He walks back to the bag and drags it over 
  to Kassima so he can give her the goodies. "Besides, after a few hours of 
  listening to some of those songs, I could have been talked into anything."

Tinya drinks off half a mug of klah, refills it, then turns toward the rest 
  of the cavern. Her mouth drops open -- she must have been _really_ asleep 
  on her feet to miss _that_. She shakes her head, blinks. Nope, still there. 
  Striding over, she asks in an incredulous voice, "Great golden Faranth and 
  her first fifteen eggs, Davi. Where on Pern did you come up with _that_ 
  shirt?"

"T'say naught of drinking the ale and wines," Kassima remarks dryly. She 
  winks at Kathall before reaching for the bag. "'Tis better with the 
  ketchup, though! Oh, it looks good enough, Davi... just painful, that's 
  all. May I take a peek in this here sack? Tinya! Afternoon!"

Silanda nibbles on the bread, eyebrows rising in pleased surprise.

Davidon grins at Tinya's reaction, puffing up a little. None of kassima's 
  clan even blinked at any of the shirts he had ordered. "Nice isn't it?" 
  he says, "Kassi's clan was quiet kind to me. Simian himself made this one, 
  and a good number of others also." he turns to Kassima, "Sure, just be 
  mindful of the shirts and such, those are mine. I haven't been to put my 
  things away."

Kathall crinkles her eyes in reply to that wink and then stretches to her 
  feet. "Excuse me, but I'm not to stay long away from the kitchens. Kassima? 
  The bread and kiwis are yours." She nods indiscriminately around the group. 
  "Thank you for your hospitality."

Mehlani smiles timidly to Kathall, before dropping her gaze again.

Tinya repeats, "Kassi's clan," and then smacks herself in the forehead. "Of 
  course! I forgot you were staying there." She rolls her eyes and turns to 
  the greenrider in question. "Kassi, I may have to apologize for doubting 
  you. If they've sent Davi back dressed like this, you just _might_ be the 
  sane one."

Silanda waves to Kathall. "Thanks for the sample..."

Kassima's fingers seem mostly ketchup-free, but she wipes them off on her 
  slacks just in case before opening the bag and rummaging through Davi's 
  shirts. "They certes look like his work. He's capable of doing 
  normal-looking things too, but aside from aught with seashells, these are 
  his favorite sorts of things t'make for people... oh! Thankee, 
  Kathall--rest assured, I'm more grateful than you can know! Fair be the 
  winds t'you, and duties t'your Craft."

Davidon waves to Kathall, "Good evening to you. Nice, sort of meeting you."

Tinya adds, with a brightening of her expression, "You've got kiwis?"

Kathall pauses in tidying up her little self for the journey back. "--Oh, 
  yes, rider," she gives to Tinya, nods at the table's burdens. "Only a 
  couple dozen, but I know Kassima likes them, so .... Help yourself, 
  please."

Davidon snorts and looks down at his shirt, "It's not like they dressed me 
  and shipped me back to Telgar. I picked this one, and several others out 
  myself. I'm not sure how he comes up with the ideas for them, but I'm so 
  tired of the normal drab things I was wearing." he makes a face, pushing 
  the sleeve down carefully.

You sense Kathall glints a brief smile back, under the cover of conversation, 
  of crowd.

"Might," Kassima agrees drolly, "though I still think that *some* of them 
  are less crazy than I am. Kes and Eyr, for instance. They've certes quirks, 
  but they're nay really demented as far as people go. Davi, did you manage 
  to escape without learning any of Kaliawynne's songs?" She blinks at one 
  of the shirts in the bag, and shakes her head. "Yeesh. Sim must've had a 
  field day. Oh, help yourself indeed, Tinya. Far be it from me t'be selfish 
  with such a generous gift!"

Kathall takes her cue and slips out on the wings of praise.

Mehlani glances at Kassima, then at Davidon once more, as her fire lizard 
  merrily slays her captured rawhide.

Kathall walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.
Kathall has left.

Tinya says, "Thanks!" to the baker and then smirks a bit at Davidon. "Well, 
  it's certainly not drab, that's for certain." She snitches up one of the 
  kiwis and starts peeling it with her beltknife as she flops into a chair. 
  "Thanks, Kassi," she says to the greenrider. "I haven't had one of these 
  in ages."

Davidon reaches over and pulls out a shirt with these bright fish patterns 
  all over it and grins< "I like this one a lot." he chuckles as he looks at 
  it again, "Oh, I only remembered the really -good- lines from her songs 
  Kassi. I'm not sure if I should burst into song right here though. The 
  harpers might get offended, not to mention the younger people around the 
  cavern you know."

Mehlani eyes Davidon with a touch more wariness, now. Is this conversation 
  going to shift to something Dangerous?

Davidon smiles at Mehlani reasuringly, he won't be singing about anything 
  wild just yet.

Kassima winks at Davi, swooshing her bread slice about in the ketchup 'dip.' 
  "Did 'Wynne teach you 'How Many Times Tonight, My Lady?' That was always 
  one of her favorites... oh! Davi, you got some knives?" She grins, still 
  poking through the sack with her free hand. "That surprises me remarkably 
  little. Tinya, does that father of yours make any wine or brandy from 
  kiwi?"

'How Many Times Tonight, My Lady?'? Mehlani's gaze flicks to Kassima, and 
  she just... stares.

Silanda bursts into giggles. "That's not..."

Davidon smiles as he leans back in his chair, "Yes. Everytime I came into 
  that tavern, she sang that song. I think she was making it a point to have 
  it stuck in my h ead. Oh, careful, I forgot to mention about the knives. 
  Your family insisted that I take them. Although I don't know when, or 
  where I'll be able to use them usefully. It was fun when I had someone to 
  compete against, but who here does knife tossing aside from you Kassi?"

Tinya shakes her head. "'Fraid not," she says. "That's the trouble with 
  amateurs; he doesn't like kiwi so he doesn't use it. I think it might be 
  one of the ingredients in the green stuff, though, actually."

"That's nay the sort of thing that you sing in a Living Cavern, let me put 
  it that way," Kassi affirms with a positively wicked grin. "'The Crafty 
  Maid and Her Tunnelsnake' is another of Kaliawynne's top ten. K'nan 
  tosses, Davi, and I've been trying t'teach Aph and Kin a bit... methinks 
  S'riv does, too--and definitely M'kla." She pulls a stuffed tunnelsnake 
  dyed black with red, white, and green racing stripes, and just groans. 
  "Eryssiara's gift?" she asks of Davi, though it's almost more of a 
  statement than a question.

Silanda definitely looks frightened. "Sounds like you have an...interesting 
  family."

'The Crafty Maid and her Tunnelsnake'?! Mehlani just stares, harder, at 
  Kassima.

Davidon hums a little, "...and she grabbed him by the tail an'...." hum 
  humm..."oh, sorry. I said i wasn't going to sing huh?"

Kassima looks perfectly serious, which is the truly frightening thing. "At 
  least the spawnling will have interesting toys, and Kaylira too... oh, 
  aye, Silanda. They're all crazy, each and every one."

Silanda just shakes her head in amazement.

Davidon leans over after the bit of singing, still sort of humming under 
  his breath, "Oh, the stuffed snake is from Eryssiara. It has stuffed eggs 
  too I think, unless she forgot to put them in there.

Kassima grimaces at Davi. "Don't get that stuck in m'head, Davi. Faranth 
  forfend I should forget m'self and sing *that* thing around Kaylira--she'd 
  likely pick it up and teach it to the other weyrbrats, and then where would 
  I be? Stuffed *eggs*?" She sets the snake down and starts rummaging in the 
  bag, blinking as she finds a stuffed dagger. "Katari, Tariken, Kayal, or 
  Da? I honestly can't tell who would've given this... oh, here they are." 
  Several stuffed eggs join the growing pile of toys on the table.

Mehlani's already round eyes shift their gaze to take in the.... toys. What 
  kind of place _is_ Greystones? And K'star wants her to go there?

Davidon smiles, "I'll have to ask Aph if she would like to practice with me 
  maybe. I'm really not nearly as good as anyone at Greystones, but they 
  were kind enough not to tease me too badly about it." he chuckles and 
  shakes his head at Kassi, "Well, it's better her learning that song than 
  Three Holderfolk and a Greenflight...that whole part about..." he glances 
  around and then murmurs the line to Kassi.

Mehlani starts turning rather pink, and she rises unsurely to her feet, 
  Rianet and her mouthful of mangled rawhide still carefully cradled in her 
  palms. She's not sure she wants to hear more of this!

Kassima assures Davi, "You'll get a chance t'spar with Katari in nay *too* 
  long, if'n 'tis your fancy. She's sworn that she'll be up here a matter of 
  sevendays after the babe is born, t'help me get back into shape. Faranth 
  help me. The woman's a bloody sadist; she knows I've never been as good at 
  fighting as 'throwing, but she gets a thrill out of mopping the floor with 
  me anyway...." Davi's murmured line brings a peal of laughter from Kassi. 
  "Good point! Good point, indeed. Kaliawynne once asked Syraemia to 
  illustrate that song in a picture for her, y'know. Syr refused; even she 
  has *some* limits."

Oh dear. Looking deeply bemused, Mehlani creeps outside, as unobtrusively as 
  she can manage. She _definitely_ doesn't want to hear this.
Mehlani walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.
Mehlani has left.

[End log.]