The World of Pern(tm) is copyright to Anne McCaffrey (c) 1967. The Dragonriders of Pern(r) is a registered copyright. This is a log of roleplay on PernMUSH, available online by permission of Anne McCaffrey, author of the Pern novels, and recorded by A.S. Korra'ti (piper@murkworks.net), player of Mehlani of Telgar Weyr on PernMUSH. This log may be distributed freely as long as this header remains intact. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Log Date: 9/21/97 Log Cast (People): Sanjeet, F'hlan, Mehlani, Kassima, Kestar (NPC), Eyrian (NPC), Asrai, K'nan Log Cast (Dragons): Tzornth, Lysseth, Herath, Pavanth, Cygnith, Veyath Log Intro: Much to the surprised amusement of those who witnessed the occurrence, F'hlan's daughter Mehlani has indulged in a rare breaking of her shyness to play two hands of dragonpoker... and has actually won both hands as well. Her victory has won her assistance in her morning chores, as well as in the washing and oiling of her father's bronze dragon -- though F'hlan himself is amazed that the girl has done this on his behalf. Tzornth, on the other hand, is quite delighted, and the next time his rider and his rider's daughter accompany him out to the lake, he makes his wishes on the matter very well known.... ---------- Dragon> Benden dragons sense that Tzornth bugles. << AHEM. I wish to be washed. >> Dragon> Benden dragons sense that Lysseth stirs out of her dozing, mind still fogged somewhat by sleep. << Eh? Did you just say that you're wishy-washy, Tzornth? >> Dragon> Benden dragons sense that Tzornth, if he had arms, would cross them. As it happens, he simply replies grandly, << No, I said that I wish to be washed. My rider says that his hatchling won me a washing and an oiling. I want it now! >> You pick your way across the rocks to the steamy hot springs of Benden. Benden Hot Springs Nestled between several rock outcroppings lie several pools of water and smoothed, flat rocks angled towards the sky. Immediately, the warmth of geothermally heated water reaches you, and you see steam rising from the springs pools. Two smaller pools with another, much larger pool past them, rest here. A cliff rises over one end of the large pool, with steps to climb up to the top. (Use 'places' to see the various springs.) The winter skies have a dull gray pall to them as an overcase covers Benden. Contents: food Obvious exits: Lake Shore Tzornth(#742IMQaeqs) At 36 meters from wedge-shaped head to the tip of his tail, Tzornth is not a large bronze dragon, but he moves, bugles, and flies as though he were. Whether on the ground or aloft he carries himself with a certain prideful arrogance, and he glances with cheerful disdain at most other dragons, save those fortunate enough to fly with the same Weyr in which he was born. His hide is a brilliant reddish-bronze; his eyes, frequently alight with intelligent and eloquent hues. He will rumble, bugle, and warble to anyone who will listen, commenting on the state of his human, his Weyr, and life in general as he knows it - which is to say, centered around him, for he is, after all, Tzornth. Tzornth is 24 Turns, 1 months, and 2 days old. Dragon> Benden dragons sense that Lysseth yawns, rumblerumbling to in the manner of someone who seems to think that talking to oneself is a good way to wake up. << Yes, my rider confirms that.... >> A pause. << She says that there are four riders to pay that debt. Vidarth's, Herath's, Ularrith's, and herself. Or *image of Maylia*. >> Dragon> Benden dragons sense that Tzornth considers this, consideringly. His rider is having nothing to do with this -- in fact, Tzornth relays, his rider appears to be making strange little choking noises and is hiding his mouth behind his hand -- so, clearly, it is up to Tzornth Himself. But he will make the Appropriate Decision, since he is, after all, Tzornth. << I do not know Ularrith, >> he announces. << And I do not hear Herath and Vidarth, right now. Who is ? >> Dragon> Benden dragons sense that Herath seems to slowly slip away from the soft comforts of sleep and dreams as her name is spoken a second time. << Ularrith and I brought the last group of dragons to the Weyr >> is noted a bit proudly before she quiets a moment to confer with her rider << Maylia is a Special Person and Vidarth...well, he's still managed to keep to his dreams. >> Dragon> Benden dragons sense that Tzornth croons warmly to Herath as he senses her awakening presence. Then he observes, << My rider is having Words with his hatchling about her bet. >I< think I deserve the extra washing! >> Sanjeet picks his way around an outcrop by the lake shore that is wreathed in steam. Sanjeet has arrived. Dragon> Benden dragons sense that Lysseth picks through her rider's mind as though it were a wine cabinet, looking for the bottle that contains the inormation. << Vidarth is probably off chasing a green somewhere, >> she notes to Herath with a snort of amusement. << *Maylia* is one of the Someones Special, yes. I feel sorry for her. Kassima tells me that she actually agreed to feed the littlecousins for a month... poor girl. >> A rather sizeable bronze dragon is lounging in the middle of one of the largest pools, tendrils of steam curling up about his lengthy form. Atop him, a fair of fire lizards -- mostly green, from the look of them -- can be seen fluttering; nearby, perched on one of the creature's legs, is a leanly built man with shaggy silver-streaked auburn hair, and wading in the water nearby is a young lass who is clearly related to him: the quiet girl who's been in and out of the living caverns with her bronze fire lizard. That bronze has joined the fair of greens, at the moment. It would seem a washing is in progress. "'Lani, while I appreciate the thought, it really wasn't necessary," the man is saying down to the girl, who looks up at him, blue eyes earnest. But as he speaks, the dragon shifts slightly, his nearer eye taking note of the new arrival. The dragon rumbles, and the man -- clearly the creature's rider -- looks up, brown gaze searching out the person Tzornth's mentioned. "Eh? Ah, hello there..." Mehlani turns in the middle of the water, blinking. The rock hopping form of Sanjeet suddenly appears from within the swirling, warm, moist mists of the springs. Amazement further clouds his young, tanned face as the candidate glances about his form. Emerald orbs seek out the next rock. Safety first. All else about him isn't given thought. His visible eye whirling placidly blue, the bronze rumbles again, and his rider cracks a very slight grin. "It's alright," he calls over. "There's room for more if you're wanting to soak." Mehlani just quirks her head, peering through the steam tendrils at the newcomer. She looks perhaps even smaller than normal, with her hair plastered damply about her young face. Dragon> Benden dragons sense that Tzornth then issues another considering rumble. << Hrmm. I do not know this one: . He is another of the Someones, is he? >> "Eh?" Calls Sanjeet in questions. "Seok?" A tenative glance is given to the warm, steaming water. "Nay." He answers at last, shaking his head in decline. "No thank'ee." Dragon> Benden dragons sense that Tzornth goes on steadily, << He has just appeared at the pool. Perhaps I should make him wash me. My rider and his hatchling do it well, but they are slow! >> Dragon> Benden dragons sense that Tzornth swings his mental attention back to Lysseth, then. << I think that your rider should come wash me. Will you tell her? >> Dragon> Benden dragons sense that Herath belatedly rumble-snickers at Lysseth's thoughts on Vidarth before searching for this latest Special Person's image. << He is...I was with Meroth when he took him. >> Another pause from the gold before she rumbles humourously. << My rider thinks that a good idea...she told him of the washing this very morning >> Dragon> Benden dragons sense that Lysseth mulls over the image for a moment. << I believe so. Meroth brought him here. I do not know much about him, but if he is a Candidate, he is either good at dragon washing--or will be after some practice. >> A rumble of amusement follows another brief pause. << I have told her. We will come down to the Lake shortly. >> Dragon> Benden dragons sense that Tzornth warbles thankfully for Herath's clarification, then croons to Lysseth, brassily. << Good! I like many hands washing me. It shall be a most splendid washing, and my hide will shine with brilliance. My rider's little cousins are here, and they help as well. >> Dragon> Tzornth senses that Pavanth debates popping off a comment about you and your ego, ya Big Bronze Boaster. Tzornth> Pavanth senses that Tzornth replies smugly, << You're just jealous. >> Dragon> Tzornth senses that Pavanth grabs the microphone and sways gracefully. << I'm so blue.... Truly blue... >> "Suit yourself, lad," says the rider, amiably enough. The dragon doesn't shift position -- there seems to be an awful lot of dragon there, perhaps it takes a while for him to move -- but his closer eye ponders the youngster, and he lets out with another deep, brassy croon. Sanjeet's 'on' and 'off' primal fear of the beasts seems to be in the 'on' position. Another brisk shake of his head and he begins hopping along the same path of rocks that he came in from. "Meba letta." He calls behind him, slowly dissolveing into the water's rising steam. Mehlani flicks a look up to her father, then to the boy again, watching this exchange with what appears to be her customary shyness. She's got a big brush in her hands, and as Sanjeet vanishes off, she returns to using that brush on the dragon's bronze hide. Sanjeet picks his way across the rocks to the sandy lake shore. Sanjeet has left. Dragon> Benden dragons sense that Tzornth eyes the Someone who has just fled him? << Was it something I said? Huh. My rider should have made him stay to help wash me. >> Dragon> Benden dragons sense that Lysseth observes thoughtfully, << Those Someones can spook awfully easily, you know. My rider will round up another pair of Someones to help. She says she has just the pair in mind. >> Dragon> Benden dragons sense that Tzornth croons approvingly to Lysseth. << Good! Someones should be taught how to wash us if they are to stay in our Weyr. >> Lysseth climbs around an outcrop by the lake shore that is wreathed in steam. Lysseth has arrived. Tzornth lounges majestically in the largest of the pools, his hide gleaming where it's not streaked with sand, or covered by F'hlan's fair of fire lizards. The bronze's gaze lifts to mark the arrival of the green, and he rumbles cordially, just as F'hlan, parked on his knee and scrubbing briskly, looks up as well. From her place aboard Lysseth, The chirping cacophony of sixty fire-lizards greets the ears as Lyss picks her way across the path to the Hot Springs, no less than three people astride--Kassima, of course, and two eerily identical young lads who also bear the faintest of resemblances to the greenrider herself. Odd. "You called?" Kassi hails the bronze, his rider, and his rider's daughter with a grin, turning to help the two boys climb down from their perch. Mehlani is knee-deep in hot water, standing at Tzornth's side and scrubbing somewhat less briskly but no less steadily than her sire. But the girl looks round at Tzornth's new noise, pausing a moment to lift a dainty hand and shove tendrils of steam-dampened hair out of her blue eyes. Kassima slides down from Lysseth's neckridges to land beside her with ease. Lysseth cocks her head at her rider, rumbling quietly as Kassi gives her eyeridges a grateful scratching. Kassima has arrived. F'hlan cracks a grin and lifts a hand of his own to hail the green rider. "Wingmate," he says cheerfully, by way of greeting. "My daughter tells me she won a bet." And this is said with a sidelong glance down to the girl, who blushes. On Tzornth, F'hlan's fair -- all six of his greens, and his one brown -- flitter and chatter, alerted by the descending cloud of 'lizards Impressed to Lysseth's rider. Shining among them is Mehlani's own Holl. Tzornth> I bespoke Lysseth with << Faranth, but your rider has a lot of fire lizards. Is she trying to make a second dragon? >> Kassima swings down from her dragon's neck a heartbeat after the two Candidates--as their knots proclaim them to be--do. The one on the left is the elder, by his appearance; he's wearing a beat-up brown wherhide jacket, as makes sense in this chill. Two wire-brushes are in his hands, and he salutes both F'hlan and Mehlani with one of them. The one to the right, dressed less practically in a white tunic with a black leather vest, settles for nodding. "Aye, so 'twould seem," Kassi replies with a rueful grin. "Both hands of dragonpoker she won, and a fair number of marks as well. She's either some true talent at the game, or phenomenal luck! These two are the Candidates I promised to bring--" Laying one hand on each lad's shoulder, she introduces them as, "Kestar and Eyrian. Cousins of mine, from Greystones. They could use some practice at dragon-scrubbing, methinks." Dragon> Tzornth senses that Lysseth's mindvoice ripples with laughter. << I somehow suspect that if she is, she's already gotten to that point. She seems obsessed with the creatures. It's a good thing that they are so skilled at washing and oiling, else I might almost be jealous. >> Mehlani blushes rather more noticeably now, not saying a word, as her father chuckles, glancing affectionately at her. "She's watched me well enough and long enough that I'm surprised she hasn't bet all of Thunderbolt out of its marks." His brown gaze swings to the boys, then, and he goes on amiably, "Hello; I'm F'hlan, Tzornth's rider." The dragon, his nearer eye taking in everything and everybody, chimes in with a lengthy, thunderous rumble, to which F'hlan clarifies dryly, "And this, as I am reminded to tell you, is Tzornth." Tzornth> Lysseth senses that Tzornth diverts his attention to Announce himself to the Someones, and he studies them curiously. << Interesting! They look alike, did they come out of the same clutch? >> Zabreneva, the sole queen of the predominantly blue and green horde that looks to Kassi, trumpets a regal greeting to those outside her own fair. Blessedly, she also shushes the other fifty-nine in the process. "Give her time," Kassi quips, grinning at Mehlani. "She'll have all our marks ere too long, I wager--but so long as she liberates them from Mart's pouch as well, I'll nay complain of the loss." She nudges the two boys discreetly. Kes starts, but shifts the brushes to one hand in order to tip the rather odd hat he's wearing to the bronze dragon. Eyrian, meanwhile, seems more focused on the bet than the dragon. "D'you happen to play dice, too?" he wonders of 'Lani. Dragon> Tzornth senses that Lysseth's response is a negative, << Not quite. They have the same sire and dam, but the shorter one is from a later clutch than the one who wears the strange hat. >> His visible eye whirling with acute interest, the bronze rumbles consideringly, then modulates it into a croon at the lad with the hat. F'hlan chuckles, and clambers a trifle stiffly down off his bronze, wading over to the edge of the pool. "Startled me, I'll readily say. So." He grins briefly to Kassima, just one corner of his mouth turning up to signal his amusement. Then, to the boys, he continues, "Has she shown you how to wash a dragon?" To the question directed at her, Mehlani blinks a time or two, then shyly shakes her head. Then she considers this, her small nose crinkling, her honor dictating that she clarify, "I haven't yet." Kassima rolls her eyes at the question. "Eyr, if'n you irk another rider by draining all his marks, don't y'dare be expecting me t'bail you out again." The lad mutters under his breath, "I won those marks fair and squa--well, no, sir," he then admits in a louder tone. "But we've watched her with Lyss once or twice." The green, as is probably fairly widely known, doesn't let anyone but Kassi attend to her washings save under extreme duress. "I did get to wash Graileth once," Kestar volunteers. Holl trumpets back to Kassi's gold, a much tinier noise than the deep sounds being put out by Tzornth. The greens and the one shy brown around him flitter and flutter, making room for whatever of the newcoming 'lizards might care to join them on the sizeable expanse of Tzornth's back. The dragon himself, feeling a sharp jump in the number of tiny claws settling down to scritch and scratch sand all over him, drops his innermost eyelids shut and blows out a mighty WHUFF of bliss. "Ah, alright, suppose you two tell me what you know, then," F'hlan requests politely, while noting with approval that Kestar, at least, does appear to have brought his own brushes. His gaze, however, is resting more on Eyrian. It's fairly likely that only Kassima can spot the wry glint in the bronze rider's eyes; Mehlani could, but the girl has turned to make herself as unobtrusive as possible against Tzornth's flank as she scrubs him. Kassima shakes her head with amusement at the two, turning to fish another brush from deep within Lysseth's strap pouch. "I'd avoid playing dice with Eyr if'n 'twere you," she advises Mehlani quietly, lest the lad in question hear. "I don't know how he does it, but he never seems t'lose--and refuses t'teach his tricks to anyone else, either. Faranth knows I've tried t'persuade him!" Eyr, blissfully ignorant of the warning, yelps and ducks as a majority of his cousin's fair decides to perch on the bronze as well. Kestar's hat goes flying as a nearsighted blue glides right into it. "Hey! That's my favorite hat!" The lad goes chasing the flying fire-lizard who is blundering about, trying to fly while blinded by the item of apparel. Once he retrieves it, he pulls it back on his head before replying promptly, "You've got to use the brushes or sand to scrub the tough dirt off, sir, a'fore letting the lesser stuff soak off?" "And you've got to be more careful with the wings," Eyrian further volunteers... albeit absently. He seems to find Mehlani more intriguing than dragon-washing. "How about the seven card variant of poker? Have you ever play--ow! Hey! Cousin, what was that for?" He rubs the side that Kassi just elbowed, looking at her in bemusement. F'hlan pauses a moment to untie his headband, shove escaping strands of his hair back out of his eyes, then retie the strap of leather about his brow. To Kestar, he nods, liking that prompt answer; he glances to Eyrian, though, and stifles another grin before quizzing Kestar, "And do you know what else to look for on a dragon's hide when you're scrubbing him or her?" Kassima casts her young cousin a look of perfect innocence, folding her arms and leaning back against her own dragon to wait in interest for the answer. "Cracking hide?" the leather-clad lad hazards. "I read that in an ancient Record--it shows when a dragon needs to be oiled, right?" Kassi gives him the thumb's-up sign, though Eyr shoots a glare at his brother. Show-off. "And it can flake, too," he appends. See? Just because he doesn't study ancient Records and artifacts doesn't mean he's not clever, too. He wouldn't be the best dice-player this side of Bitra if he weren't. "Good lads," F'hlan says succintly, noting signs of sibling rivalry, but keeping that to himself. He waves a hand towards his bronze, then, glancing at Tzornth; the bronze rumbles in satisfaction, as if to convey that the two youths are now cleared to enter his Presence. "Go to it, then; I've already covered his left foreleg and my daughter has the left flank. We'll want to check over his back -- the fire lizards like to play up there and scatter sand, but at least where my greens are concerned, it's best to doublecheck." Indeed, at least four of the greens in question seem rather more interested in playing games of Fling the Sand than in actually doing anything constructive with it. The fifth green is cooing sweetly at the shy brown Ged, and the sixth is simply sitting with her head craned down towards the two boys, staring at them with a surprisingly deep and searching look for a green flit. "Mine are nay better," Kassi agrees, eyeing the immense flock--especially the twenty greens. The blues seem a *bit* better--those who seem willing to exert themselves. Darvan and Koreyn are more interested in squabbling; Kimrel and Khin, both shy sorts, would rather hide behind Tzornth's neckridges than do anything constructive. Kes eyes the bronze's right shoulder for a moment, before setting to work, keeping one hand on his bizarre hat whenever one of the 'lizards gets too close. Eyr has to shoo Mahogany, Khazarai, and Rhiannon away from Tzornth's side before he can even start working. Kassima muses as she rolls up her sleeves to wade into the water as well, "Wish I understood this fascination the Swarm seems t'have for Kes's hat. You'd think they'd never seen aught like it a'fore. Who are you going t'get to pay the debts of morning chores due, 'Lani?" Not far from shore, Lysseth chooses a good place to recline and watch her rider and the two hazel-eyed, brown-haired Someones at their task. Mehlani peeks up wordlessly from Tzornth's left flank, noting how one of the boys has vanished around to the other side of the bronze. As several squawking lizards wing out of the way of Eyrian's shooing hands, the girl chews her lower lip a moment; then, through the flurry of 'lizard wings, bronze Holl suddenly lifts off and circles down to the girl, landing with delicate care on her shoulder, as she's wearing nothing but light breeches and a thin shirt at the moment, and Holl has no wish to scratch her shoulder with her claws. At Kassima's question, Mehlani speaks up softly, "I don't know yet." "_I've_ never seen anything like it before," observes F'hlan, as he re-enters the pool and swings himself up deftly onto Tzornth's left foreleg once more, where he can both oversee the youngsters and work on the top of his dragon's head. He leans over and calls down to Kestar, "Nice hat, though." There's a distinct *plunk* as blue Kayzle, whose balance is always reminiscent of that of a rider who's had a few too many bottles--not glasses, but bottles--of brandy, falls from his precarious perch into the waters below with a small splash. Kestar pauses to fish the hapless blue out of the waters before he can somehow manage to drown himself. "Thanks," he grins up at the bronzerider, showing remarkably straight and even white teeth. "It's something of a memento. A gift from some Traders whose runners I tended for a few evenings...." Eyr rolls his eyes at his brother's locquaciousness. "Still can't believe they didn't pay you for that, Kes," he quips while scrubbing industriously at the bronze hide before him. F'hlan perches himself deftly right on Tzornth's neck, while saying conversationally to Kestar, "Like runners, do you? So does Mehlani. The girl in question chews her lower lip again, pausing a moment to push her hair out of her eyes. The gesture is remarkably similar to her father's, though the girl isn't wearing a headband. Kassima ducks a gob of wet sand thrown from above, muttering something about fire-lizards with terrible aim. "Well," she sighs, while attacking a spot on Tzornth's right flank with her brush, "much as I'd adore seeing him pay up, I can't i'truth recommend Mart. He's fine with paying his monetary debts, but chores and whatnay? Almost as bad as Thera, he is--and *she's* owed me a trio of marks for nigh on nine Turns now." "Mehlani bet _chores_, too?" F'hlan asks Kassima, his eyebrows going up. he shifts position to peer down at his daughter. Mehlani purses her lips and just bobs her head shyly up at her sire, knowing she can get away with silence, with him. Kestar nods enthusiastically, wearing, although it cannot be seen, a crooked grin that shows off his dimple. "Aye. Had a runner back home, as a matter of fact. Not quite as fast as Eyr's runner, Falcon, but still a beauty. Cousin Kassi's promised to get him here somehow if I stay on." Kassima bobs her head in affiration, peering up at F'hlan. "You'd nay heard?" she asks in surprise. "Aye--three rounds of morning chores, if'n I recall correctly." Blues? Blues! Look at all these BLUES! Enthusiastically, Aeyri, Koei, Twyr, and Neme dive into cooing and flittering and warbling at this profusion of blues that has surrounded them. Never mind that three of them rose last sevenday. Neme is looking a touch overgreen, and _she_ nuzzles every blue neck in sight. Cygnith climbs around an outcrop by the lake shore that is wreathed in steam. Cygnith has arrived. "Mehlani," says the bronze rider to Kestar, "though she isn't liable to actually tell you this herself, has been helping out our Weyrherder for Turns now." He eyes the lass again, though, and adds dryly, "Her morning chores aren't that strenuous..." Cygnith Lithe and compact, this small dragonet has a deep blue the precise shade of midnight's navy skies running along his underside. Very striking...yet a glimmer of silver warns that this is not all there is to him. Speckles of moonlight brightness have been scattered over his back and tail, making him look for all the world as though he has been wrapped in a cloak of stars. This silver spangling begins at the top of his head, and pours across his back and wings to the very tip of his tail. His neckridges gleam as if they had been fashioned from polished pieces of metal rather than dragonflesh, and all of these markings reflect light into the eyes of those watching him to make it seem like he is truly luminous. He bounds energetically wherever he goes, often sounding an enthusiastic *bugle* from the gracefully tapered muzzle that lends him an almost aristocratic air. It becomes apparent that his looks are only outshone by his charm. He appears to be 3 Turns, 4 months, and 3 days old. And my, but there are a lot of blue necks in sight. Thirty-seven, to be precise. And two brown ones as well. None of Kassi's greens look very bright--all of those who were due were no doubt set off by Lysseth, so that the fair is now blessedly and briefly proddiness-free. Thus, Kyril, Sapphron, Kayvist, Keyvan, and the many, many other members of the Blue Brigade are only too delighted to pay attention to F'hlan's greens instead. Tzornth> Cygnith senses that Tzornth bids you a cordial greeting. << Hello, young one. >> Up between Cygnith's neckridges, Asrai smiles and waves down at the others as she dismounts. Dragon> Tzornth senses that Cygnith rumbles with impishness, <> Asrai makes her way down from Cygnith's back. Asrai has arrived. There's quite the dragonwashing going on, as Asrai and Cygnith arrive. Bronze Tzornth floats majestically in the biggest of the pools, covered by a veritable blanket of fire lizards, among which can be spotted his rider F'hlan, F'hlan's young daughter Mehlani, Kassima, and two lads, all working on scrubbing the bronze. Tzornth> I bespoke Cygnith with << I am not old. I am mature. >> Cygnith rumbles a greeting to Tzornth, seeming to be in a grand mood. Asrai chuckles, "Hello all, Cygnith says he's quite jealous..even if he did just get washed the otherday." Dragon> Tzornth senses that Cygnith rumbles innocently, <> As if in protest to her father's searching look, Mehlani points out softly, "I didn't have any marks to bet, so I had to bet something." "That's nay doubt why 'twere only priced at a thirty-second's worth," Kassi chuckles, with a roll of her eyes at the blues' antics. Kestar, meanwhile, sees to find that information quite interesting indeed. "Really? Well, maybe there's a thing or two she could teach me about runners. The Herder back home knows more about draft beasts... there's more call for those, with the stone hauling that needs to be done and all." Lysseth warbles a greeting to Cygnith, and Kassi cranes her head in order to espy and wave to the blue's rider. Asrai looks at you for a moment. Dragon> Cygnith bespoke Tzornth and Lysseth with << You look quite lovely today, Lysseth. >> "Well, 'Lani can comment on Caitria's skill better than I could," F'hlan tells Kestar, even as he inclines his head amiably to Asrai. The bronze rider leans over again to Tzornth's other side and inquires of his daughter, "How about it, mite?" Eyrian asks right on the heels of his brother's query, while waving his brush to Asrai in greeting, "Does the Weyrherder have any sprinters here? Like Falcon? That's my runner," he explains as an offhand afterthought. "Won her from Cousin Jessamyne in a game of cards, fair and square. She doesn't look like much, but she's the fastest thing in the cothold." Asrai waves to Kassi as she makes her way over to sit on one of the nearby rocks. Cygnith joins her, stretching out to relax in the sun. Her eyes do glance from time to time over F'hlan's form. especially the way the water glistens off his muscles. She gives a litle shake of her head and calls out to Kassi, "Hey there, paying your debts I see." Hey, least she didn't swoon...how she hit her head on the rocks would be rather diffacult to explain to K'nan don't you know. Mehlani blinkblinks. Her father wants her to TALK? Her forehead crinkles, but she coughs tinily, then speaks up, quite clearly, and loudly enough to carry around to the lad on the other side of the dragon, "Caitria is very skilled... uhm, and Tsornin is quite fast. She lets me ride him." This latter is directed to Eyrian, who is actually in Mehlani's line of sight. Dragon> Tzornth and Cygnith sense that Lysseth rumbles her appreciation of the compliment, tempered lightly with amusement. << Thank you. You are very astute, Cygnith. >> Modest? Her? Nahhhhh. Tzornth> Lysseth and Cygnith sense that Tzornth generously allows the blue to flirt with the green, as he has more important matters on his mind at the moment: getting the best scrubbing he's ever gotten in his life. He ignores the minor detail that he can't remember any of the previous scrubbings, but well, hey. Dragon> Tzornth and Lysseth sense that Cygnith sounds astounded, <> Well, little charm never hurt anyone...especially since Veyath is asleep. "Caitria," F'hlan puts in sagely as he inspects Tzornth's head for suspicious patches, "has been after me to let Mehlani join the Herdercraft, actually." Ah, there's a spot. Scrub. "We'll have to talk to her," Kestar and Eyrian respond in chorus, their voices--Kestar's deeper than his brother's--still eerily alike. "There are no races here, are there?" That's asked by Eyr alone, in a tone that suggests he's hoping to be contradicted. Asrai frowns, "But Herder Hall is so far away..and its full of strangers." Biased, her, nyah. F'hlan replies to Eyrian, "Sometimes, lad. During Festivals. Don't have too many runners here to race, last I checked--'Lani?" He looks down to the girl, for confirmation. Mehlani says softly, "There's just Tsornin, and a few others." F'hlan adds to Asrai, "Aye. So's Harper Hall. The Harpers haven't been at me in a while, though. Maybe they've forgotten about my lass." He grins briefly and returns to scrubbing. Asrai nods in agreement, "Well...if Tria's here..could she just teach Mehlani what she needs to know? She doesn't need to go off to Herder at all." Kassima tilts her head, examining her handiwork critically. "Has she, now? Hmmm. The Hall seems an interesting place--Meroth and Lysseth just picked up a pair of Candidates there nay long ago, actually. 'Twere fortunate that Glynna and the Craftmaster weren't about at the time. Craftsecond Kristine seems t'be more amiable to Search... ah, but I digress." Brushing an errant lock back out of her eyes, the greenrider chuckles. "I doubt it. They're like as nay just amassing for a full-scale persuasion attack." As six of Kassima's fire lizards seem interested in what's she's doing, Mehlani waves them away gently, her efforts punctuated by Holl giving a commanding chirp. The girl is immediately given some space, and she wades a little further down Tzornth's side. She doesn't offer anything else, not with the group around the dragon getting bigger. Her father, though, says to Asrai, "Mehlani tells me she's actually brought up that very possibility." His eyes soften, just a touch, as he appends, "'Lani's got the Weyr in her blood. Like me." "Fa-THER," comes a tiny protest from Tzornth's side. Mehlani, evidently, is getting embarrassed that she's getting talked about. Asrai claps in delight, reaching up to push her hair back behind one ear. "Oh but Mehlani..isn't that what you want? to stay here, but still learn the craft?" Eyr sighs, but then brightens considerably. "There must be a lot of wagering when there are races, though," he theorizes. From the other side of Tzornth, Kestar's snort can be heard. "Eyr's almost as good as piloting his runner through a race as at gaming," the leather-clad boy admits. "Maybe if we bring our riders up here, he can ride to a win in the next Festival." The younger lad grins with pride at his sibling's assessment, his matching dimple and white teeth showing. They really do look almost frighteningly alike, for not being twins. Mehlani risks a glance over to Asrai, to whom she nods, shyly. "I seem t'recall that," Kassi muses, moving on to wash Tzornth's side now that his right flank has been scrubbed flawlessly clean. "I overheard Tria talking about the notion while 'twas teaching the basics of knife-throwing t'some of the Candidates." Asrai smiles encouragingly to Mehlani, "Then that's what you should do." "Well, I'm just as happy to have more of my children here, if that's what 'Lani wants," says F'hlan, contentedly going over his dragon's head in great detail, scrubbing with delicate care where hide is stretched taut over his massive skull. "Almost a shame the Harpers and Herders can't both have her." To Asrai, Mehlani gives one of her small smiles, her mouth flicking up on each end for a moment. Asrai giggles, "F'hlan, did you ever ask Mehlani what it is /she/ wants to do?" The bronze rider nods amiably. "Aye. Though you know how tough it is to get the lass to talk." He glances around and winks at the girl. Mehlani gives her father another of those small smiles; evidently, this is a recurring father-daughter exchange. "By all means," Kestar can be heard to remark, able to hear the conversation even if he can't see the lass in question. "I'm of the opinion that everyone should follow their own path in life. Da wanted me to be a Harper like him, but...." He shrugs, though the gesture can't be seen. "Wasn't what I wanted." Kassi casts a rueful glance at the lad, laughing silently. "Seems t'run in the family, that... well, who's t'say she can't sing or play or even song-write as a Herder if'n she likes? Plenty of folk can have music in their lives without being professionals at it, 'tis nay so?" Asrai grins, toying with one lock of hair. "Well, I think you should do as you like as well...as long as it doesn't take you away from the weyr." she adds as last clause to the statement. "Just so, Kestar," concurs F'hlan, even as his dragon interjects a loud, long, throaty rumble of his own. The bronze rider then grins and calls over to Asrai, "Tzornth says he agrees with you. Tzornth> I bespoke Lysseth and Cygnith with << I did not. I said that if anyone tries to take my rider's hatchling away if she does not want to go, I will sit on them. >> "I like it here," Mehlani says simply. She's reached Tzornth's wing by now, and she ducks carefully beneath it, making Holl squeal and flutter out of her way. The girl stops a moment, trying to figure out how to scrub under the wing, while it's blocking her light. Dragon> Lysseth bespoke Tzornth and Cygnith with << That would make a terrible mess, wouldn't it? I would think that simply chasing them away would be more expedient. >> Dragon> Tzornth and Lysseth sense that Cygnith rumbles a firm agreement, <> Tzornth> I bespoke Lysseth and Cygnith with << No, I must sit on them. Otherwise they might come back and try again. >> Cygnith rumbles a firm agrement with Tzornth, which invokes a giggle from his rider. F'hlan arches a dark eyebrow and looks down at his bondmate. "Tzornth..." His tone translates to, 'Alright, you sharding great nuisance, what are you projecting behind my back now?' Tzornth's eyes whirl guilelessly blue. Asrai continues to giggle, cygnith must be sharing. Tzornth> Lysseth and Cygnith sense that Tzornth, with remarkably comic timing for a dragon, mentally nudges you both and sends wryly, << I'm not telling you that my rider is handsome, either. >> Lysseth's rumbling contains distinct undertones of draconic amusement, which her rider shares if the grin she suppresses is any indication. Kestar eyes his cousin as if wondering whether she hasn't lost her mind. He then seems to dismiss the thought--which is unsurprising. Being related to her, he'd know perfectly well that she lost her mind long ago. "Dragons hold the most interesting conversations at times, wouldn't you agree?" Kassi asks her fellow Wingsecond ingenuously. Asrai covers her mouth with one hand, hiding both the giggle and the blush that blossems upon her cheeks. Dragon> Tzornth and Cygnith sense that Lysseth's thoughts trill with laughter; the green seems to be in unusual high spirits today. << Of course not, >> she agrees, her mindvoice a perfect match for Kassi's tone when she's pretending innocence at something. "Quite," says F'hlan drolly, even though he appears to be missing out on a portion of _this_ particular conversation. From under Tzornth's wing, Mehlani patpatpats the dragon, trying to get his attention and make him spread the wing out for her to inspect. Tzornth SNUFFS, sensing that, and obligingly extends the wing for the lass. Talking? Behind his rider's back? Who, him? Dragon> Cygnith bespoke Tzornth and Lysseth with << He is not K'nan, and you are not Veyath..but he might make a good mate. does he have one of his own yet? >> Asrai's mouth drops open as she sputters, "Cygnith!" Tzornth> I bespoke Lysseth and Cygnith with << I am most certainly NOT Veyath -- I am bronze, for one thing! For another, I am _Tzornth_. My rider has . She is the dam of and and . My rider has had many matings and sired many hatchlings. >> Asrai continues to turn redder, hding her face in her hands. Dragon> Tzornth and Cygnith sense that Lysseth wonders, now almost laughing outright, << Cygnith, is there anyone whom you do not consider a potential mate for your rider? >> "I do not," mutters F'hlan dryly, "think I want to know." As the dragons have their silent conversation, the fire lizards, rather significantly more noisy, send up a flurry of chatters as green Neme seems bent on nuzzling eight blues at once. Quite the acrobatic feat. Under Tzornth's wing, Mehlani, a bit more visible now that the sails are stretched out, makes a very tiny noise, suspiciously like a giggle. But she quickly diverts her attention to wing inspection, lest anybody look her way. Dragon> Cygnith bespoke Tzornth and Lysseth with << That was my point oh mature one. I would much rather share a ledge with Veyath then you. You would take up too much room for one thing. My rider makes a very good mate, she had three hatchlings at the same time. *puffs up with pride* any mate would be lucky to have her. i do not think that your rider would make her a good mate, Lysseth..does that count? she does not have that is necessary for more hatchlings. >> Kassima isn't laughing. Really. Or even trying to suppress laughter. She just has something caught in her throat. Right. That explains those strangled, almost choking noises she seems to be making, though Kestar seems rather dubious. "Cousin, are you all right?" he asks solicitously, receiving a hasty 'I'm fine, I'm fine' sort of gesture in return. Shrugging, he tips his fedora up a bit and looks up at F'hlan from under the brim. "Don't think I want to either, sir." Eyrian evidently disagrees, quipping drolly, "Whatever it is must certainly make interesting hearing...." Asrai seems to also be making strangled noises. Finall she gets out, "that's it Kassi, Cygnith isn't allowed to talk to Lysseth any more." She of course is not all that serious..perhaps its only wishfull thinking. F'hlan snorts lowly, looking first at Kassima, then at Asrai, then at both the young women's dragons, then finally down at his own, leaning himself down to look upside-down into Tzornth's left eye. The bronze croons smoothly in reply to an evidently unvoiced question, and F'hlan snorts again. Straightening to look first down at Eyrian and then at Kestar, the man says sternly, "I'll tell you the most important thing you two need to know if you are going to be at Benden for any length of time, and that is, I'm not that sharding handsome." Dragon> Tzornth and Cygnith sense that Lysseth gives the appearance of allowing this matter due consideration, before finally snorting at the blue. << I suppose that would count, yes, >> she remarks drolly. Tzornth SNUFFS, sending a mighty surge of bubbles out from his snout. The bronze, it would seem, is VERY amused. Cygnith also seems to be very amused, rumbling happily as Asrai tries to hide her face in his forarm. Mehlani peeks out from under Tzornth's wing and pipes up solemnly, "Father doesn't like the lower caverns girls who say that he is." That proclamation made, she ducks under again, scrubbing. Eyrian tilts his head, then glances back over his shoulder in the direction of the Lake Shore for some odd, unknown reason. "Do the Caverns lasses know that?" he wonders wryly. Kestar cranes his head to peer past the bronze at his brother and volunteers the opinion, "I doubt it. Else they wouldn't be gathering up by the Lake every sevenday and chanting all that stuff." F'hlan blinks. F'hlan leans over and stares down hard at Kestar. "What?" Dragon> Cygnith bespoke Tzornth and Lysseth with << See. There are certain standards that must be met first. But K'nan makes her very happy, and Veyath is very nice to cuddle up next to on colder nights...so we will keep him for now. >> Asrai finally takes her face from Cygnith's hide, giggling at Kestar's words. she looks pointedly at Kassi and puts in, "See, I /told/ you that's what they were chanting." Kestar runs his fingers absently through the tangle of his hair--at least, that which isn't covered by the fedora. "Chanting stuff, sir. These lasses of the Lower Caverns--I've *seen* them do this; they gather together in a big circle by the Lake, in these robes that're... well, about the color of your bronze, actually. They chant your name all night long or until they've all swooned, whichever comes first... admittedly, I didn't see *that* part. Salless told me about it." Kassima holds up her hands, conceeding, "All right, all right, Asrai! So you were right! But I still don't think that half of those pendants they wear could possibly be authentic, or F'hlan would be bald by now." Asrai looks over at F'hlan, commenting, "No, I supose you're right about that. But were they all made of his hair? Perhaps they got a hold of an article of clothing and cut that up.." F'hlan blinks again. Six or seven times. His brown eyes narrow, and he says to Kestar, "You're joking." It's not _quite_ a statement. If anything, the slight rise at the end of his words, not to mention the sudden vivid embarrassment in his eyes, is a query, a veritable plea, to be assured that this _is_ a jest. He sits up, swings round to stare at the other two riders, and repeats, "You're joking--right?" "We're nay!" Kassi and Kestar reply in unison, looking absolutely, frighteningly sincere. "'Tis naught but the First Egg's own truth," Lysseth's rider continues. "Go down to the Lake Shore enough nights, and you're bound to catch 'em at it eventually. Just don't get them confused with Mart's following--they wear brown robes and break firestone instead of swooning. I'm really starting to worry about some of our Caverns lasses." Asrai glances over at Kassi before answering, then back to the bronzerider, shaking her head slightly. "Fraid not, F'hlan. Is it really that bad. Them all thinking you're good looking?" OK, so she ignores the import of the chanting, and stealing of clothes, and cutting of hair... Asrai nods in agreement with the M'rgan comment as well. "Yep, didn't help matters much when he won Kassi's flight the other night. I hear they all gathered round sobbing for most of the evening. You see, they were hoping he'd ...oh nevermind." _Oh, sweet Faranth..._ F'hlan doesn't need to actually utter the oath; it's apparent enough in the expression on his lean weathered face. He whirls around to find his daughter, to whom he levels the third iteration of the plea, "They're joking, right, lass?" Mehlani peeks out from under the wing she's attending, and quite earnestly shakes her head. F'hlan swallows, goes a touch pale, then goes a touch pink as he starts to blush. "I do NOT want to know," he mutters fervently, returning with rather more vigor to his scrubbing. "I do NOT want to know...." Once more Mehlani peeks out from under Tzornth's wing, looking up in her father's direction for a moment. Thinking no one is looking at _her_, she smiles, this time rather more widely, her eyes brightening, before she returns to work. Asrai begins to think, a dangerous thing indeed. "Perhaps if we gave each a picture of F'hlan, they could just worship that and not gather anymore..." Asrai blinks, "think of the marks one could make..especially if he say..signed them.." "I swear," mumbles F'hlan sheepishly, "I'm asking for my old weyr back. Better get off the ground... Faranth...!" It's now Kassi's turn to look faintly mortified, though that's levened somewhat by mirth. "Asrai, you've got t'be jesting!" She knows better than that, though, and shakes her head with a wry laugh. "That'd explain some of the looks they were giving me yestereve... 'twas wondering whatever I'd done t'merit that." She scrubs industriously until her faint blush dissipates, then looks up to grin at F'hlan. "Too late," she points out. "You already do know... nay, Asrai, methinks they'd just try and get one *big* picture and set it up in the middle of their circle, knowing them. There'd likely be swoon sacrifices to the image... gah. And the ceremonies would continue nay for a night, but a night and a day, and naught of the Caverns work would ever get done!" Cornbread zips around an outcrop by the lake shore that is wreathed in steam. Cornbread has arrived. Asrai hmms and nods, "Oh, alright..I supose it wasn't the best of ideas." F'hlan shuts up. But gets progressively pinker, as Kassima's words add fuel to the fire of that blush. Tzornth, in his rider's silence, chimes in with deep rumbles of amusement, making F'hlan croak, "Shut up, Tzornth." Tzornth> I bespoke Lysseth and Cygnith with << Harumph. I simply thought that if he ASKED them to stop gathering, they might listen.... seems like a good idea to me! >> Several of Kassi's fire-lizards chirp with fascination, launching from their perches to hover near F'hlan and inspect this strange red shade that he's turning. They don't often see a fuchsia humanthing, it seems. Dragon> Lysseth bespoke Tzornth and Cygnith with << I think that if he asked them, they would probably just swoon in awe at being spoken to and never hear a single word. >> Asrai blinks, then giggles rather amusedly. "Kassi, if we could come up with some sort of cage to keep F'hlan safe...can you imagine the amount of marks we could make setting up a kissing booth next gather. you know, charge them for a kiss. I could make all the marks back that I spent on baby stuff..." F'hlan makes a strangled little cough of a noise, and shoots Asrai a mortified glare. "That's _quite_ alright, blue rider....!" From beneath Tzornth's wing, another tiny giggle sounds. "You know," Kassi remarks, looking as though she's actually giving that idea thought, "I daresay 'twould do *wonders* for Weyr-hold relations if'n 'twere so. Just think of how happy 'twould make the Lady Holders and their daughters, t'say naught of all the Holder lasses!" At this point, Kestar and Eyrian aren't able to keep from laughing anymore--even though Kes tries to hide his face behind his fedora, and Eyr has bit his lip nearly raw in the attempt to maintain silence. "Shouldn't laugh, you two," the greenrider points out, eyeing her relatives. "Just you wait. If'n you Impress--especially bronze or brown--you might find yourselves in similar straits someday!" Asrai blinks innocenlty, "But we could have it by the lake. That way if we swoon we could revive them easy enough." Hefting Lower Cavern girls would be almost as good a training for new weyrlings as hefting firestone..for building muscles." she looks ready to continue on, but thinks better of it and shuts up...still innocnet looking fo course. Tzornth's left wing passes Mehlani's inspection, and the girl wades further down him towards his hindquarters now, quite content to let the adults tease her sire. Holl keeps her close company, while the Swarm -- or at least, the blue portion thereof -- ripples in a brief wave as several of them fight over who gets to be near Neme next. Asrai clears her throat and stands, "I think I should go check on the little ones. they should be ready for their next feeding by now. If you all will excuse me.." she quickly mounts Cygnith, waving to everyone as they depart. "The lower caverns girls can have them," F'hlan says roughly, shooting his regard over to Kassima. "They're young, right? Nice looking lads...! I mean, shard it, I'm forty-one! Too fardling old for such nonsense!" Asrai makes her way up onto Cygnith's back with the aid of an offered foreleg and a strong grip on the riding straps, settling between his silvery neckridges. Asrai has left. Mehlani waves up to Asrai, silently, doing a much better job at concealing her mirth than the boys. Up between Cygnith's neckridges, Asrai comments from her perch, "some girls like their men older." With her track record, its not that suprising that the comment comes from the tiny rider. Cygnith goes home. Cygnith has left. Kassima waves after Asrai, still managing not to look half as amused by all of this as she really is. "Oh, now, F'hlan--you know that some of those Caverns women are in their late teens, even twenties... Eyr's only fifteen, Kes sixteen--right, lads?" The two manage to regain enough composure to nod to her, never mind that Eyr's on the opposite side from her. "Far too young for them to care much about, y'know." F'hlan, still blushing, looks gruffly down at the two boys and mutters, "Plenty of caverns girls their age." 'Lani pauses in her effort to make her way towards Tzornth's tail, catching the drift of the conversation, and blushing a bit herself. The girl leans over to splash her face quickly, to pass off the pinkness of her cheeks as simple reaction to the heat of the pool, before she makes it to the bronze's hindquarters. Kestar shoots a wary glance at his cousin. "They wouldn't really...?" Kassi, being Kassi, is only too swift to crush his hopes with a nod. Oddly, Eyrian doesn't really seem to mind. "I daresay a'fore anyone even knows it," Kassima avows, "there'll be whole new factions amongst the Caverns lasses--nay only following Kes and Eyr, but the rest of the new blood that's been brought into the Weyr this Search. Several fine lads have been picked up--all youngsters, alas, but as you say... there're plenty of young Caverns girls." "Good, they can distract them," F'hlan mumbles, regaining his composure. Or maybe Eyrian can, at least. The bronze rider peers at Eyrian, then down at Kestar, sensing that lad's probably more of a kindred spirit. He confides to him, "If you Impress, lad, I'll show you the best hiding places." "Are they really so fanatic that you have to hide?" Kestar wonders, hide scrubbing momentarily abandoned as the mere thought captures his horrified--and amazed--attention. Eyrian, more intrigued, splashes some of the excess sand from Tzornth's hide--managing to hit a few of the flirting blues in the process. "There must be lots of hiding places in a Weyr this size," he remarks. Mehlani starts working the curled length of Tzornth's tail, a process that brings her into view of Kassima and Kestar. She hunches over as she follows the bronze trail through the pool; a good portion of the tail is submerged, and 'Lani has to step first to one side of it and then the other, looking for places to keep her balance. Hearing Kestar's question, she pipes up, "Father hasn't been in the lower caverns in sevendays." Then she promptly shuts up again. F'hlan ahems, glancing down towards his daughter at her remark. "Months," he corrects ruefully. "Take my meals in my weyr, usually." "I," Kassi states firmly, nudging a fire-lizard aside to continue her own work, "do nay envy you, F'hlan. Nay a whit. I wonder what they'd do if'n you took to current Weyr fashion and started wearing a kilt?" Kestar and Eyrian trade glances... probably wondering just what kind of place this is that they've been abducted off to. F'hlan leans over to point a stern finger at his wingmate. "I am _not_ going to wear a kilt! Shells, woman, I don't even want to think about how cold that'd get *between*...!" Mehlani risks a look up from her work in time to see the bemused look crossing the face of Kestar, just before he turns to peer around Tzornth and exchange looks with his brother. A few thoughts cross her mind, but the lass doesn't voice them, instead focusing on trying to tug Tzornth's tail up so she can look under it. The maneuver is a bit much for the slender girl, but it does catch Tzornth's attention, and the bronze's head begins to swing round as he tries to get a look at what she's doing. Kassima blinks up at F'hlan, green eyes widening in the very picture of innocence. "They're nay that bad!" she protests. "And in fact, they're even good luck! Ask Mart sometime! The Weyrleader finds them quite fashionable, y'know--and M'kla, too... why, I've even heard tell that P'tran owns one." Perhaps significantly, she says nothing about whether or not the Wingleader ever *wears* it. Eyrian doesn't seem convinced by his cousin's irrefutable (il)logic. "Why any male would *want* to wear a skirt, I'll never comprehend," he mutters under his breath. "Eh?" F'hlan glances back at his daughter again, then ahs, and lightly slaps his dragon's head. "Up with the tail, will you?" Tzornth croooooooooons, and the big bronze's entire length ripples a moment, causing a wave to sweep through the blanket of fire lizards scrabbling for purchase on his back, making tiny green and blue and the occasional brown and gold head bob up and down; then, Tzornth's tail rises out of the water in a bronze arch, dripping. Mehlani calls politely, "Thank you, Tzornth!" F'hlan leans over and tells Eyrian, "You and me both, lad. My children, too." Wading in under Tzornth's tail is an awkward proposition, as it causes Mehlani to not only get dripped on, but also forces her to half-squat and shield her eyes against sun and water as she tries to survey the underside of that tail for any signs of flaking hide. Kassima ducks as a few fire-lizards fall from the bronze, chirpling with surprise. "I wonder just how many 'lizards it takes t'make up a second dragon," she laughs, shooing the swimming creatures off. "Tzornth almost looks like he's covered up in a blanket of blues and greens, and you can hardly tell what color Lysseth is when the Swarm perch on her...." The greenrider steps back to survey the large dragon, taking a moment to tsk at Eyrian. "They're nay *skirts*. They're kilts. And they're excellent for circulation, y'know. I own one or two m'self... hrm, F'hlan, how much does Tzornth say is left t'be done? 'Tis a bit hard to tell under all the fire-lizards." Avoiding any further kilt-related commentary, F'hlan confers with Tzornth, then reports, "Right wing and back. Mehlani! Get up here and start shooing the fair, will you, lass?" 'Lani doesn't call a 'Yes, father', but Tzornth's tail returns to the water with a splash, and the girl comes round to the dragon's right flank. There, in prompt response to F'hlan's request, she agilely scrambles up Tzornth's side, revealing bare calves, ankles, and feet beneath the cuff ends of her short pants. 'Lani is all limbs, but she knows where to place them, and is atop the bronze in no time flat, shooing away fire lizards. A cloud of blue and green blots out the sun for a moment as Kassi's fire-lizards depart, resettling in a ring around the Spring. Kassi beckons to Kestar to help her tackle that right wing once he's once again retrieved his fedora--blown away by the wind generated from the various 'lizard launchings. "I'll readily confess," Kassi remarks cheerfully, while demonstrating for Kestar how to properly scrub the more fragile wing, "that this does give me an entirely new appreciation for Lysseth's smaller size in a way." Neme lets out an indignant little squeal as the girl starts chasing away _HER_ chosen blues, but F'hlan's own comparatively small fair, along with Kassima's, takes to the air. Only Holl remains, helpfully parking on Tzornth's back and peering intently at his hide as if he understands exactly what it is his human is doing... or at least, wants to imitate her. "Thirty-six meters is an awful lot of bronze dragon," agrees F'hlan as he turns around on his perch, asking Eyrian as he does, "Lad, can you get up here and help Mehlani look over Tzornth's back?" "Nay that twenty-five's small for a green," Kassi automatically amends, after Lysseth rumbles some unheard comment. "Still, the difference is easy to appreciate, especially since she doesn't like t'let Candidates aid with the task." Eyrian opens his mouth as though about to ask the greenrider something, but closes it again in order to nod to F'hlan. "Sure thing," he says confidently. His confidence, though, is matched by his awkwardness in scrambling up the slippery bronze hide--and earning a few muffled chitters of laughter from the watching fire-lizards in the process. There is quite the layer of sand along the dragon's spinal ridge, as though the fire lizards had been trying to make their own tiny beach up there. Mehlani starts carefully brushing away lizard-tracked sand to reveal the bronze hide underneath... which, for the most part, looks splendidly scrubbed, if nothing else due to the several hundred flit-feet that had been stirring the sand along Tzornth with their activity. But as Eyrian clambers up into view, 'Lani starts and looks up; the girl blinks, then blushes and resumes dislodging sand. But she also murmurs, "You need to use his leg as a ladder." "I'll remember that for next time," Eyrian mutters ruefully, flashing the girl a sheepish, crooked grin. His feet skid a bit on the sand, but in watching Mehlani carefully, he seems to get the hang of how to walk and is soon tossing sand over the edge too. "Eyrian!" Kassi yelps as some of said sand lodges on the crown of her head. "Watch where you throw the stuff, eh?" Mehlani nods quite gravely to Eyrian's pledge, saying nothing, but simply scooting about Tzornth's back as if she'd been born up there. Only when most of the sand is dislodged does she call over to her sire, "Father, we need buckets." The bronze rider nods as well, swinging himself down deftly off his dragon to land with a barefooted splash in the pool. He limp-wades to its edge, grabbing a couple of buckets currently under investigation by some of the more restless of Kassima's fair. Shaking the buckets to dislodge them from inquisitive fire lizards, F'hlan turns back to Tzornth, dips a bucket into the pool, and lifts it carefully up to the girl. "Here, hatchlet." Mehlani thanks her sire, and promptly pours the bucket out all over Tzornth's back, washing lingering sand particles off his hide, while F'hlan fills the second bucket and alerts Eyrian, "Here, lad, we'll want to wash him down." Kassima shakes her head ruefully at her fire-lizards, while wiping some of the excess sand from Tzornth's wing. "You'd almost think the creatures had never seen a dragon bathing a'fore, and I know perfectly well that they've good enough memories to recall that they have. Little loons." Kestar snorts with agreeing laughter, but Eyr's too busy trying to keep his balance to pay much heed to his cousins. Carefully, and a bit wobblingly, he takes the bucket from F'hlan and mimics Mehlani's actions. "Like this, then?" Mehlani looks up to see Eyrian pouring, and she bobs her head soberly at him, while F'hlan encourages, "That's the way. Just get off all the extra little bits of sand, they'll get in the way when we oil him." Kassima pats the wing in front of her, looking critically over what she and Kestar have done. "Could you ask Tzornth to dunk his wing and get this sand off, F'hlan? Methinks 'tis finished, but 'twould be best t'be sure." She looks up to Eyrian, and laughs. "'Tis a fortunate thing you're nay cleaning a dragon who's intent on getting into a splash-fight, coz--'twould nay require the bucket-rinsing then, but on the other hand, you'd be half-drowned by now." "I'd advise," puts in F'hlan, "that you not give Tzornth any ideas. He doesn't dunk me these days unless it's after a flight. _Usually_." This last is directed at the dragon, whose eyes take on a merry hint of green, even as he obligingly dunks his wing at Kassima's request. "Give him ideas?" Kassi responds innocently. "Would *I* do that? F'hlan, surely you misjudge me." She nods in satisfaction as the sand washes away from the wing, though she does point Kestar towards one spot that he apparently missed before. "Misjudge the woman who gave me a full bottle of Black Dragon?" replies F'hlan dryly, letting that comment stand for itself. Mehlani pipes, "We're done up here, father." Taking her bucket in hand, she promptly slides down Tzornth's side, creating a noticeable splash of her own when she makes contact with the pool. She turns to refill her bucket and splash some more water along Tzornth's sides, just for good measure. Kassima absently corrects, "Black Gold... and 'tis nay such a bad drink, honestly! If'n you want bad, try the Bottle sometime. Even I don't drink *that* stuff but once a Turn... and I brewed it!" She brings her arms up to shield herself as Eyrian dives similarly, creating only slightly less of a splash than if he'd done a full cannonball. Mehlani, having come down on the same side as Kassima and the boys this time, blinkblinks at them and the green rider, then turns with her bucket to wade towards the shore and her towel and jacket and boots. F'hlan begins a wading circuit of his dragon, visually inspecting what he can see of him, and mentally conferring about the rest. Tzornth emits a low rumble of distinct pleasure, and by the time F'hlan makes it round to Kassima and the youths, he says with a smile, "Tzornth expresses his thanks; he says that his hide tingles. Well done." Kassima smiles, nodding to the bronze before turning to swim back to shore. Kestar and Eyrian grin broadly in pleased pride, more alike in that than ever. "He's quite welcome," Kestar says. "It was a welcome change from latrine cleaning, that's for sure." The bronze croons steadily, and F'hlan lifts a hand to pat him, grinning. "I haven't forgotten the days I stood where you're standing now," he tells the two boys. "And I remember latrines, yes. Heh. Well. We've got to oil him, Mehlani and me; we can handle that, I think, if you lads have other chores you need to do...?" Mehlani has made it to shore by now, and with a small frown, tugs one of her boots out of the clutches of green Koei, who seems intent on nibbling the toe. Bronze Holl wings in to help Mehlani chase the green away before she attracts the attention of any of Kassima's greens who might happen to share a fondness for wherhide; then, the girl tugs on her boots and pats herself down with the big towel. "Stable-cleaning," Eyrian says ruefully. "Just a step up from the latrines, but at least 'tis not so unfamiliar...." Kes grins at his brother, but has to admit, "I *am* due to be serving dinner in the 'Cavern not too long from now. Could help for a bit, though, if need be?" Mehlani blinkblinks at Eyrian. "You're going to be cleaning the stables?" she asks, in startlement. Her voice, gaining volume, carries quite clearly. Kassima shrugs her jacket and boots back on, pulling a thick cloak from Lysseth's straps and pulling that over her shoulders as well. "Brrr. After the 'Springs, this weather only seems colder. Thread or nay, part of me will be glad when 'tis summer again." Eyrian flicks his hands through his wet hair; as it's considerably shorter than his cousin's knee-length tresses, it doesn't take much more than that to make it settle into place. "In a few minutes," he replies, wringing some of the excess water from his shirt. "Why?" Mehlani blinks. Twice. She glances in the direction of the stables, then turns back to Eyrian and asks him earnestly, "Will you be careful with Tsornin's stall, please?" Veyath climbs around an outcrop by the lake shore that is wreathed in steam. Veyath has arrived. Cygnith climbs around an outcrop by the lake shore that is wreathed in steam. Cygnith has arrived. F'hlan lifts an eyebrow, but wades out to the shore himself, pulling on a shirt over his scarred torso once he dries himself off. His jacket, liberated from ten green fire lizards, follows shortly thereafter. As he dries his hair, F'hlan eyes his daughter, and smiles slightly at her plaintive expression. Eyrian blinks, pausing in retying the laces on his vest. "Of course. 'Tis an important thing, stable-cleaning--I'd not risk any runner coming down with thrush from shoddy stable conditions." Kestar nods in vigorous agreement, even has he wrings out his sopping wet fedora and then turns to wave it towards the two arriving dragons and they're riders in greeting. "K'nan, Asrai, heyla," Kassi calls from the shore near Lysseth. Up between Cygnith's neckridges, Asrai waves as Cygnith makes his way around the rocks, Veyath right behind him. "Hello, we aren't too late are we?" she works at undoing the straps securing her in her seat before dismounting. Asrai makes her way down from Cygnith's back. Asrai has arrived. "That depends entirely," Kassi quips, looking up at the two, "on what 'twere hoping t'be in time for." "Tzornth's done," remarks F'hlan kindly. "You can have the pool, if you wish." Mehlani's blue eyes soften a bit with relief at such concern over the runners being expressed by Kestar and Eyrian. She murmurs only, "Thank you," as she shrugs into her coat. Asrai strips the straps from Cygnith, leting him wade into the large pool as she coils them neatly to set on a nearby rock. "Oh, some soaking and company I supose." She looks at the softly falling snow around them, not quite touching the warmth of the hot springs. "Thank you F'hlan, he looks like you all did a wonderful job on him..not that you didn't have some help." Tzornth, unencumbered now by either fire lizards or people, lifts up slowly and regally, water streaming off him from all sides. He rumbles brassily to Veyath and Cygnith. Dragon> Cygnith bespoke Veyath, Tzornth, and Lysseth with << you look like you enjoyed yourself antient..I mean mature one. >> Veyath settles down near the water's edge as K'nan unstraps himself from her back..the green warbling a soft and happy greeting to the other dragons. Kestar ducks his head, and both he and Eyrian wear the same crooked grin. "More than welcome," Eyrian replies, echoing Kes's, "No problem at all." The younger boy finishes drying himself off as well as he can, and tosses a wave off to all the riders--and Mehlani--before sprinting off in the direction of the Beasthold. "For that, nay, 'twould say you're nay too belated," Kassi answers Asrai with a smile. F'hlan smiles. "Kassima and her two cousins here made the job go twice as quickly, and Kassima's Swarm did their part, too--Neme!" The bronze rider turns and hollers over to his green even as she happily starts more fights among Kassima's blues. "Neme, shard it...!" He whirls around to Tzornth and gives the dragon a Look; Tzornth rumbles, then lets out an impressive BUGLE, meant to startle the heck out of the horde of fire lizards. And, hopefully, scatter them. K'nan climbs down from Veyath's neck, and arrives on the ground. K'nan has arrived. Cygnith nuzzles Veyath's neck gently before slipping into the water for a nice soak. Bemused, Mehlani glances after Eyrian as he runs off. Then, she looks at the fire lizards--especially Neme--and blinkblinks. Neme squawks again, as do the rest of F'hlan's fair, and abruptly blips *between*. Surprisingly, Holl follows them, and Mehlani mumbles, "Excuse me....!" K'nan lands lightly beside his lifemate, giving her leg a pat as she rumbles quietly to Cygnith, slipping into the water after him - the warmth a welcome change from those hours of watchriding in the snow. K'nan waves to the others with a cheerful smile, "Heya all!" Mehlani, quite abruptly, whirls and runs off. Mehlani picks her way across the rocks to the sandy lake shore. Mehlani has left. F'hlan shoves a hand through his hair and mumbles, "I was wondering when she was going to go up..." The surprised screeching from the startled fair can probably be heard all the way to the other end of the Weyr as they take to the air, milling about in a confused cloud. "That sounds like my cue to go!" Kestar yells over the noise, and makes haste to depart from the terribly loud cacophony. He manages to escape just a second before the Horde blinks *between.* Tzornth shakes himself vigorously, then rumbles in satisfaction. He blows out a snort to Cygnith at something the blue must have said, before springing aloft straight out of the water, sending spray in all directions through the snow. The bronze wheels in the air, heading for his weyr. Tzornth goes home. Tzornth has left. F'hlan, looking distracted of eye now, turns to the other riders and says sheepishly, "If you'll excuse me... ah.... Neme is... uh, rising." "She the last one to do so?" Kassi wonders, glancing idly up in the direction of her departed fair. She seems to take all of the noise quite in stride. "A'course, F'hlan. G'luck," she offers with a wry grin. Asrai blinks, "Oh my, that was rather impressive F'hlan." She begins to quickly undress, folding her clothes neatly in a pile well away from any splashing. Now that most of the party is gone, she can do so without turning all /that/ red. She gives a startled meep as Tzornth gets her wet before she ever has a chance to slip into the water...which she does quickly, "she's what?" "Rising," says F'hlan sheepishly. "I'd better... ah... excuse me." With that, blushing noticeably, the bronze rider absently salutes the three of you and hastens off, taking a different direction from that his daughter had chosen. [End log.]