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Lysseth's Fifth Flight


Date:  July 1, 1997
Places:  Benden Weyr's North Bowl, Living Cavern, Feeding Grounds, and
Upper Sky, and Guest Weyr
Game:  PernMUSH
Copyright Info:  The World of Pern is copyright(c) to Anne McCaffrey 
l967. The Dragonriders of Pern(r) is a registered copyright.

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Kassi's Note:  This was an interesting one.  I'd been trying to think of 
something original to do with Lysseth's posing this go-round, and 
somewhere along the line, that turned into giving her (as one person
called it) a 'rocky death wish.'  It was furthermore suggested that I
name this log Rocky V or something similar. :)  Then there was the whole
thing with the squished Mr. Bill... well, you'll see that for yourself.
I'd like to thank everyone who participated for making this a fun flight
to be in. :)  Anything prefixed by Lysseth> takes place in the North
Bowl, Feeding Grounds, and Upper Sky, in that order.  Pages have been
cut out, but dragon chat and relevant knotfoo remain.

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The Log:

You slide off of Lysseth's neck to land beside her easily. She rumbles, 
cocking her head down at you, and you rub her eyeridges gratefully.

Veyath is curled up against Vidarth, snuggling under one of his wings for 
warmth and protection from the rain. As Lysseth lands, she offers a very 
tenative warble of greeting.

Kassima swings down from her lifemate's luminous neck, the fringe of her 
jacket bouncing. "Fardling rain," she grumbles loudly. "Blasted weather, 
sharding winter--gah!" The green rumbles a disgusted agreement, curling up 
as far away from the other dragons--especially the other green--as 
possible. Her return greeting is a brief, angry hiss.

You walk past the lintel and into the wide living cavern.

K'nan winces slightly as Kassima walks in, and waves over lightly, "Um..
heyla Kassi."

Lysseth> Veyath actually cringes a bit at the younger green's hiss, hiding 
further under Vidarth's wing.

Kassima drips water all over the place as she storms in, apparently having 
been out in the rain for quite some time. "If'n I see one more drop of 
Faranth-cursed water falling out of the bloody sky any time soon, I do 
believe that I'll go mad," she announces to the room in general. She meets 
any greetings with a simple grunt of, "Enh," and troops over to her table 
to fling the two bags she's carrying--one small, one not--onto the table 
with a wet *thud* and some weird sounds from within. "Where's Ofira?"

R'val walks in from the kitchen.

J'lor hey there's! at R'val!

R'val wanders back into the cavern, and waves to the assembled folk, "Hi 
all!" He moves klah-wards.

Hannah stands up from her conversation with the trader, "Oh, there he is."

Lysseth> Vidarth huddles Veyath to him protectively, eyeing the glowing 
green Lysseth suspiciously.

Hannah walks up to R'val, leaving a largish bundle on the table behind 
her.

Hannah says "Excuse me...."

R'val glances at Hannah and smiles, "Yes?"

J'lor asks, "did you oil Lysseth recently, Kassi? Her hide was positively 
glowing last time I saw her..."

Benden Weyr> J'lor unwisely continues the correspondance!
Benden Weyr> R'val watches J'lor get torn to shreds!

Hannah leans softly against the table behind her. "Might you, perhaps, be 
R'val? I was told to ask for you...I'm Hannah of the Baylyff clan." She 
has a glint in her eye.

R'val ahs softly, and nods, smiling, "I'm R'val, yes. Glad to meet you, 
Hannah." He looks the woman over, curious about her now.

Benden Weyr> J'lor resists the urge to turn to Hannah with, "oh dear, did 
he get you pregnant too?"

Benden Weyr> J'lor is full of wisdom this day!!!

Benden Weyr> K'nan laughs!

Kassima glares as no response to her query is made fast enough, and 
snatches up the large back. "Where the *shells* am I supposed to *park* 
these fardling fish if'n I can't find her? Ofira!" Having no respect for 
the ears of others, her yell is projected at the top of her voice--which, 
though rarely heard to be such, can be very loud when she chooses. 
Scowling blackly, she stalks over to a hapless server-type and throws the 
bag at her. Lightly, at least. "These go t'cold stores. If'n y'see Ofira, 
tell her I've brought some fish in. They're whole, uncleaned, nay damaged 
save for the spear-wound that killed 'em. Can y'do that for me?" The girl 
nods, and flees. Kassi whirls and snares herself a mug of cider now, 
taking that back to her table while muttering under her breath. "She's 
*proddy*," is her short and succinct reply to J'lor. "Obviously."

Benden Weyr> R'val beats J'lor to death with a molten hot lump of putty!

Benden Weyr> Kassima LOLs! Ask, J'lor, ask!!

J'lor nods to Kassi. "Apparently, she's not the only one!"

R'val recoils from the glaringly obvious proddiness of Kassima, and winces 
at J'lor's total lack of tact.

Benden Weyr> J'lor onos!!! J'lor makes another unwise verbal burble. Kassi 
will have his head!

K'nan just shakes his head..and sips his Benden White lightly, trying to 
keep low.

J'lor brings his glass up to his mouth to take a sip of his drink when he 
notices his foo has somehow slipped inside his glass. He removes it from 
the glass and takes a sip of wine while his foo drips little droplets of 
red onto the table.

"Very astute," Kassi growls, plunking herself down in her chair and 
drawing a knife. "Aught else you'd like t'comment on, oh stater of the 
obvious?" With that, she uses the knife to cut the ties on her sack and 
starts pulling out slices of very fresh, raw, and--it is to be hoped, 
dead--slices of fish. "Where's the bloody wine, anyway?"

Benden Weyr> R'val . o O (J'lor's foo meets Kassi's proddiness? 
Unstoppable force meets immovable object? )

Benden Weyr> Kassima says, "Would that be like the meeting of matter and 
antimatter? Would the entire LC spontaneously combust?"

J'lor goes up and gets Kassi a glass of wine, and then brings the bottle 
to the table. "Here you go," he says pleasantly.

Benden Weyr> J'lor says, "foo + proddiness + pants + vidarthburgers = THE 
GREAT FEAR."

Hannah blinks at the woman and leans in a bit to whisper to R'val.

Kassima eyes J'lor and the wine suspiciously, then nods, once. "M'thanks." 
Short, but as sincere as she ever gives thanks these days. Filching a bowl 
from in front of the unfortunately nearby V'dan, she proceeds to fill it 
with the fish slices and wine in turn.

Benden Weyr> Kassima says, "But what if you add K'nan's knives, the Water, 
and Flirk's klah?"

Benden Weyr> J'lor says, "foo + proddiness + pants + vidarthburgers + 
knives + water + Flirk's klah = ARMAGEDDON."

Hannah mutters to R'val, "... with her?"

Benden Weyr> Kassima all *rights*! Ragnarok and roll! (Sorry, bad pun. ;)

Benden Weyr> J'lor bahahas.

Lysseth> Quinath backwings for a landing.

J'lor says "Nice fish you got there. Packtail?"

R'val mutters to Hannah, "Her..."

Lysseth> Quinath lands heavily in a huge puddle, splattering mud in all 
directions. He chortlerumbles happily.

Kassima shoves aside the bowl once it's full of soaking fish, and sighs. 
"Fish just aren't juicy enough t'be worth all this trouble, I swear it. 
But at least spearing 'em was relaxing for a 'time... and the 'lizards 
should enjoy all the heads I left lying about...." All of this is mumbled 
to herself, as she's apparently at that stage caused by constant headaches 
and lack of sleep that make proddiness and insanity virtually 
indistinguishable from one another. "Nay," is her response to J'lor. 
"Yellowfin. Sparkler. That sort of thing. Y'know, the things that swim 
about in the Lake?"

Lysseth> Vidarth rumblerumbles merrily to Quinath, sheltering Veyath 
beneath one blue wing.

J'lor nogs at Kassima. "Smells like fish, tastes like wherry."

Lysseth> Veyath warbles softly in greeting to Quinath as she huddles 
closer under Vidarth's wing from the rain - and from Lysseth.

Lysseth> Lysseth snarls as some of the mud flies perilously close to where 
she has grabbed up a rock and is busily sharpening her talons with it. She 
edges even farther away from the others, if possible, with another 
needless growl of warning.

Hannah nods. "Ahhh." She doesn't quite understand what all that means, but 
she's not going to let on..."Uh, the reason I came to you was that Jashua 
and Inn of the Baylyff clan have a son who is a candidate at High Reaches 
Weyr. They had some things they wanted to send to him and asked if I would 
mind acting as a runner....They suggested I ask for you." She looks the 
man from toe to top and smiles cheekily. "And I'm glad they did." She 
winks at the rider.

J'lor peers at his empty glass thoughtfully, sets it upon the table, then 
wrings wine from his foo into it while listening idly to Hannah's 
introduction.

R'val nods his head attentively, "Allright. How may I help, then?" He 
regards this stranger puzzledly.

"Aye. Whatever," Kassi mutters, waiting very impatiently for the fish to 
soak. "You've been quiet, K'nan," she suddenly observes, green eyes now 
turning to her mentor of old.

Lysseth> Quinath pauses in his exploration of the puddle, holding one claw 
in mid-swipe as he peers interestedly in Lysseth's direction. So far, he's 
ignoring his rider's protests at his choice of a landing place and her 
urgings to move out of the puddle so she can dismount.

K'nan looks up quickly as he's addressed, and just smiles amiably. "Just 
relaxing, is all."

Benden Weyr> J'lor says, "how can anyone be proddy with the cheerful 3some 
around!!!"

Hannah smiles. "I wonder if you...and your lifemate...might help me to get 
to High Reaches...Otherwise it's quite treacherous by land."

Benden Weyr> Kassima grins. Kassi's reached the Defcon 1.5 stage of 
proddiness. It's too early to be quite Defcon 1 yet, but too late for 
Defcon 2, which was yesterday.

R'val ahs softly, "You want a lift. All you had to do was say so." He 
winks merrily, "I'm certainly up to it, now that I'm not busy."

Kassima wonders dryly, "How can y'possibly be relaxed when you've nay got 
a knife in hand? Shells if'n I can understand it at the moment. Tried a 
spear, but that doesn't work half so well. Has t'be a knife."

Hannah's eyes widen in delight at the prospect of holding this man close 
for the duration of the journey. She turns and saunters over to her 
bundle. "Here's their parcel."

Hannah's parcel is nearly as big as she is. The candidate's parents must 
be doting on him quite a bit...

J'lor nods to Kassima. "Knives are a good icon of power."

R'val blinksblinks and offers his arms to carry the parcel, "Hmph. Looks 
quite large. I'll strap it to Vidarth, shouldn't be a trouble..."

R'val wanders out, holding the parcel.

R'val walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.

Lysseth> Quinath reluctantly moves to a drier portion of the bowl and Rosa 
slides down, muttering something angrily under her breath.

Lysseth> Rosalen scritches Quinath's neck ridge fondly before sliding down 
his shoulder, landing lightly on the ground.

Hannah walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.

Lysseth> R'val uses Vidarth's side straps to mount up agilely, settling 
onto the little blue's back and straightening. He pets his lifemate's head 
once as Vidarth rumbles excitedly, ready to fly.

Kassima snorts. "Icon, schmicon. I like 'em 'cause you can *stab* stuff. 
That's relaxation enough for me."

Lysseth> Hannah climbs up the straps to Vidarth's back and settles in 
behind his aft ridge.

Lysseth> From Vidarth's back, R'val winks over his shoulder, "Ready?"

Lysseth> Rosalen pushes wet strands of hair from her eyes and glares at 
her lifemate and then at Vidarth, just for good measure.

Lysseth> Along Vidarth's back, Hannah is a bit out of breath as she 
scrambles up and straps in. She presses her soft body against that of the 
rider, holding on for dear life. "Ready."

Lysseth> Vidarth chuffs Rosalen amiably, blowing her hair around before 
lifting off.

Lysseth> Vidarth takes flight, using the thermals rising from the bowl to 
carry him aloft.

Rosalen walks in from the bowl.

K'nan eyes Kassima suspiciously for a moment, then shrugs. "Sometimes I 
can. It takes practice."

Lysseth> Veyath watches her shelter and warmth fly away with a mournful 
croon as the rain starts to patter against her emerald hide once again.

Rosalen dashes in, moving slightly awkwardly and nearly knocking into the 
tunnel wall as she pushes wet hair from her face. She scowls at nothing in 
particular and heads for the klah pot.

Kassima is sitting at a table in the unrelieved pitch-black clothing that 
those who know her would associate with proddiness, with a bowl of raw 
dead fish and wine soaking in front of her. She looks, overall, rather 
impatient and restless. "How? Stabbing things is the only decent way 
t'relax that I've ever found... though, I suppose that building the snow-
horrors wasn't bad either," she admits thoughtfully.

Benden Weyr> Rosalen says, "Raw dead fish? Oh gross! :}"

Benden Weyr> Kassima says, "Well, raw dead fish *slices.* :) Kassi only 
eats raw meat while proddy, but it has to be soaked in wine first to 
sterilize it."

J'lor smiles at Rosalen. "Hey there!"

Benden Weyr> J'lor fears snow-horrors.

Benden Weyr> Kassima says, "Think of Calvin and Hobbes-type snowmen, 
J'lor. ;)"

Rosalen drops her scowl long enough to grin at J'lor as she pours herself 
a steaming mug of klah. She moves closer to him and asks, a strand of hair 
flopping back into her face and dripping down her nose,"May I join you?"

Benden Weyr> J'lor laughs!

Benden Weyr> Kassima adds, Calvin and Hobbes-type snowmen with knife-
wounds that bleed red Tillek Swill.

Benden Weyr> J'lor was imagining a snow-dragon belly-up with a sword in 
its chest, and a snow Sir Lancelot standing atop him.

K'nan just shakes his head..almost amused. "Sometimes quiet is good too, 
Kass."

Benden Weyr> <J'lyn> Lorieth looks alarmed. << A sword in a DRAGON?!? >>

Benden Weyr> Kassima says, "Nah... the one thing Kassi doesn't do is dead 
dragons. Hey, Lys! Happy Turnday! :)"

Benden Weyr> Alyssa says, "Eeek."

Benden Weyr> Alyssa says, "It IS my turnday!"

Benden Weyr> J'lor says, "holy mackeral! Happy turnday!"

Benden Weyr> J'lor was just kidding Kassi :)

Benden Weyr> R'val hugga Birthday Lys. :)

R'val walks in from the bowl.

J'lor says "That was fast."

Benden Weyr> J'lyn says, "Happy Turnday, Lysbabe!"

R'val wanders back in, grumbling, "Shardin' ride-beggers. Bleah!"

Rosalen sits down and recovers her scowl as she peers grumpily into her 
klah. She sips, the steam momentarily obscuring her face.

Kassima snorts her disagreement with K'nan's statement, then eyes R'val. 
"Y'didn't look too displeased when 'twere heading out of here," she 
observes dryly.

R'val flops into a seat and grins wryly at Kassima, "Well, I wasn't. But 
she ran off the moment Vidarth touched down. Not even a thank you. Hmph!"

Rosalen hmmmphs into her mug, echoing R'val and shifting uncomfortably in 
her wet clothes.

R'val regards Rosalen puzzledly, "Quinath soaked you again, hmmm?"

Lysseth> Veyath shifts over to settle near the bowl wall for partial 
cover, ignoring the blue as he lands.

"What ele can y'expect?" Kassi wonders in that same dry tone, setting down 
her already empty mug of spiked klah and pulling a vial of something green 
from her jacket. She certainly does have a lot of vials. The stuff--
recognizable as Salless's asparagus gunk--gets poured into her mug, and 
she swallows all of it in one gulp with a grimace of disgust.

Lysseth> Vidarth keeps his glowing eyes fixed on Lysseth, backing away 
from her as he lands.

Rosalen looks up,"Hmmm?" and sighs as that stubborn wet lock of hair flips 
onto her nose again. She pushes it impatiently aside and nods,"I don't 
know what gets into him...he won't listen to me sometimes."

Lysseth> Lysseth pays no attention to the returning blue, since most of 
her focus is on her claw-sharpening. Her talons are always long and 
wickedly sharp, but apparently not to her liking, as she rakes them over 
one of the stones most suitable for that purpose with a *screech* of 
tortured rock.

R'val chuckles sympathetically, "He's such a clown, sometimes he forgets 
how silly he's being I think."

Lysseth> Quinath tilts his head, moving imperceptably in Lysseth's 
direction as he listens to that beautifully irritating noise.

Rosalen chuckles ruefully,"He landed in a puddle and wouldn't move out, 
leaving me the lovely choice of drowning upon dismount or drowning slowly 
in the pouring rain on top of him. I don't mind that he likes mud, I just 
wish he'd leave me out of it."

R'val chuckles, "Poor Rosalen. Want a towel?

Rosalen makes a face and threatens R'val with her mug, "No..." She tilts 
her head and smiles with saccharin sweetness, "Thank you."

R'val blinkblinks his big brown eyes back at Rosalen, smiling, "Only 
trying to help my dear."

Kassima glances over at Rosa, and cracks a smile so brief that it might 
have been imagined. "Sounds like Lyss and snow. She delights in dumping 
me in the stuff, save for when I've Kay with me. Or when she's proddy. 
Thank Faranth for small mercies and favors."

Rosalen sticks out her tongue momentarily in R'val's direction before she 
drains the last of her klah and scowls into the empty mug.

Rosalen looks up at Kassi's comment and a genuine smile alights her face 
as she chuckles, "Quinath likes snow too...snow, mud, water...anything 
wet."

R'val chuckles, "Vidarth is quite different, he really does prefer staying 
dry."

Isolde chirples and races out again...with half a meatroll.

Lysseth> Dulath backwings for a landing.

Kassima nods, without another smile but with less bad-temper than she 
might normally show. "Lysseth doesn't much care about mud, but she'll 
tolerate it... she's a fiend with water and snow. For some reason, though, 
she hates sleet with a passion."

Lysseth> C'vadan slides off Dulath's shoulders to the ground, turning to 
give his lifemate a quick salute and then an affectionate pat on the neck.

Lysseth> Dulath warbles a cheery greeting to the other dragons.

C'vadan walks in from the bowl.

Lysseth> Lysseth snarls a completely uncheery response, claws tightening 
around her sharpening-rock. *Screeeeech* goes the rock, until finally the 
poor thing shatters in the green's grip.

C'vadan shakes off the rain before coming all the way in. He blinks and 
looks outside at the terrible noise. "Hey all," he says, glancing at 
Kassima. "Anyone seen 'Lys?"

Kassima eyes C'vadan and says, shortly, "Nay. Why?"

C'vadan stands on the far side of the living cavern from Kassima. "Well, 
we are supposed to head out to Igen. I just wanted to get away before..." 
he lets that thought remain unspoken.

R'val glances at C'vadan, "Who's going to Igen?"

C'vadan pours himself some juice, always keeping an eye on Kassima. "'Lys 
is. For Kiat. To watch over Nim and his babe until it is born." He sips 
the juice. "I'm just escorting her."

K'nan sips his wine. Safer than speaking.

R'val nods, "Ahhh." he glances at Kassima, "I think this might be a nice 
night to go see the clutch at Reaches again."

Kassima eyes Cav drolly, and smirks. "Indeed. Faranth forfend you should 
be too late, eh?"

Kassima sighs and shoves aside her mug, eyeing Cav. "I can't imagine why 
you'd want to go to the Arid Wastes anyway, y'know. If'n y'want t'flee, 
wouldn't Ista be a better choice? Or even the Frozen Wastes? Hrmph. I 
suppose it can't be said that men are logical."

C'vadan says nothing in response to Kassima's rant. Better to be thought a 
fool than to open one's mouth and be a dead fool.

R'val follows C'vadan's wise course, and merely sips his klah.

Kassima glares balefully at both Cav and R'val for no apparent reason 
whatsoever, and picks up a chunk of wood and a knife to resume one of her 
favorite proddy activities: Carve and Dismember a Sculpture Of Who You're 
Peeved At. She stares at Cav a moment to study him, before beginning this 
artwork. Shavings rapidly pile up around her hands on the table.

C'vadan decides on another plan of action. He takes a seat across from 
Kassima. "Whatcha carvin'?" he asks.

Kassima looks up from the carving, which is exceedingly crude but *seems* 
to be human. Hard to tell. "You, at the moment." On a whim, she lops off 
one of the figure's arms as she says that.

R'val shudders, and looks away.

C'vadan manages not to wince. "A fair likeness," he says calmly.

Kassima digs the tip of her knife into the figure's approximate heart, 
leaving a large gouge mark. "Aye," she agrees, moving on to gouge out the 
eyes as well.

C'vadan chuckles. "You left a leg there," he points out.

"What good would it be if'n the figure couldn't walk around and listen to 
people shriek at his hideousness?" Kassi wonders as she cuts more of the 
figure from the block. "'Sides, I'm just going to toss it in the fire and 
watch it burn for awhile when I'm done anyway."

C'vadan nods at this, sipping at his cup. "Good use of the wood once you 
are done with it," he commends you.

Kassima snorts. "Doesn't matter. I just like t'watch things burn. It comes 
as a close second to stabbing things, y'know. There's naught better than 
tossing a dash of White Lightning or something even better on the fire and 
watching it blaze... unfortunately, that's a bit frowned upon for some 
reason. Can't *imagine* why." Chop, chop.

C'vadan sets down his cup. "Makes one wonder sometimes, doesn't it?" he 
ponders aloud.

"Wonder why people won't let others burn things?" Kassi asks as she cuts 
off a portion of the figure's foot.

C'vadan merely shrugs. "Seems to me if it belongs to you, you should be 
able to do whatever you want."

Kassima cries a triumphant, "Precisely! What's wrong with throwing 
something in the fire to make a few fireballs if'n 'tis yours? Ah, to 
consume all of someone's earthly possessions in flame!" Odd phrasing, 
there.

C'vadan pounds his fist on the table. "Shardin' right." He stands. "I say 
we fly up to your weyr and make a huge bonfire that all of Pern will see!" 
he says, encouraging you.

R'val raises his eyebrows at C'vadan.

Kassima eyes at Cav, raising one eyebrow sardonically. "I didn't say *my* 
earthly possessions. I meant someone else's. The bonfire's a good start, 
but if'n you're thinking t'toss my things into the flames, you've another 
think coming. A bonfire's a splendid notion, but 'twould nay fit--more's 
the pity!--in the bit of a weyr I've got off the side of Meli and T'lar's 
for the nonce."

R'val looks greatly relieved at this

Kassima adds thoughtfully, "Now, if'n 'twere saying we should go up to 
R'val's weyr and burn all of *his* earthly possessions in flame... well, 
now, there'd be something I could see."

R'val ahems, "No way. Not burning MY stuff."

Kassima points out to R'val, "'Twas Cav's suggestion, y'know!"

C'vadan doesn't say a thing. He just smiles.

R'val eyes C'vadan, "I'm /not/ surprised."

C'vadan gives R'val an innocent look. "I suggested Kassi torch her own 
things. I can't be held responsible if she tries to torch other people's 
belongings."

R'val snorts," You shouldn't suggest torching in the first place."

Kassima smiles, too. One of those poisonously sweet smiles that she 
specializes in at this time of Turn. "He never said I should torch my own 
things. He said I should burn things on a bonfire at m'weyr... he never 
said *whose.*"

R'val grumbles, "Well, not my things."

C'vadan tsks Kassima. "I clearly stated that one should be able to torch 
one's own things," he says rationally.

"Y'never said that one should nay be able to torch another's," is Kassi's 
reply, and she then gives R'val a *look.* "Why nay your things? Have you 
never wished t'watch as some of your least prized possessions disappeared 
in a blaze of fire? Lunatic."

R'val grumbles, "No, I've never wished to see my things burn. Fire's 
dangerous!"

C'vadan says "Omission is not concurrance, Kassi."

Kassima says dreamily, "Fire's beautiful... fierce, blazing, burning, 
dissolving all in red-gold flame...." Well, Kassi always was a bit of a 
pyro. Apparently, proddiness doesn't help that condition. "Nay, but 'tis a 
loophole, and ergo 'tis as good as concurrance."

C'vadan shakes his head. "Nope. You are wrong."

Benden Weyr> R'val says, "Cav....I think we should run before she sets the 
LC on fire. ;)"

R'val stands, abruptly leaving.

R'val walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.

Kassima frowns at C'vadan. "Incorrect," she snaps. "I'm as right in my way 
as you are in yours. I never claimed it was 'right' to burn others' 
possessions, only that I *could*, and in that, I am nay wrong." She 
scowls, most of her at least tolerable mood dissipated.

C'vadan shrugs, dismissing that argument. "I live by simple ideals, 
Kassima. There is right and wrong. Anything else is wordplay."

"Naught wrong with wordplay," Kassi mutters. "'Tis a fine old tradition 
that m'family has engaged in for as long as anyone can remember."

C'vadan says "But this is not where you came from. That is like saying 
that you have to abide by my family's traditions."

Kassima arches one eyebrow, and frowns again. "If'n I want to wordplay, 
then I'll wordplay all I please. I never said you had to. However, I did 
say that I was nay *wrong* simply because I *could* consume all of R'val's 
earthly possessions in flame. It is physically *possible* for me t'go over 
to his blasted weyr and gather up all his sharding stuff and torch it, 
therefore I *can*. I didn't say I would, or should, but that I could, and 
in that, I'll be sharded if'n I'm wrong. I don't see what the problem is, 
here."

C'vadan smiles. "Who said there was a problem?"

"Blasted if'n I fardling know!" Kassi explodes. "All of a sudden, all I 
know is that you're saying I'm wrong, and I find that a problem when 'tis 
incorrect, because 'tis like me saying that *you're* bloody wrong for 
saying that the effing sky is effing blue! Assuming that 'tis blue at the 
time of your saying it! Shells, shards, and blasted fragments of Faranth's 
golden *toenails*, but how am I supposed t'know what the problem is that 
you're calling me wrong for if'n y'then seem t'be saying that there isn't 
a problem? And people say *I'm* confusing!" She throws up her hands, picks 
up her bowl of wine soaked fish, and forces herself to occupy herself with 
eating it before she can rant further.

C'vadan says simply, "Okay."

Kassima scowls blackly, no happier about an easy capitulation than about 
an argument whose rules she can't seem to follow. Some of her wingmates 
recognize the expression and scoot farther away, eyeing her warily.

C'vadan isn't giving ground today. He will soon be away to Igen, so he 
feels pretty confident in his dealing with the proddy Kassima. But fate is 
going to deal him a bad dragonpoker hand...

Kassima continues eating the raw fish from her bowl, with--surprisingly--
her bare hands rather than a knife. She must really be angry, or else 
she's just going for the queasy factor of the people who have to watch her 
dine. "Where the shells is that blasted girl with my wherry?" she demands 
under her breath, turning her glare on the kitchens. "This stuff isn't 
half bloody enough, and I'm *sick* of fish."

C'vadan hmmms. "Maybe you should try tubers, Kassi."

Kassima slowly unclenches her fist from one slice of fish, letting it fall 
back into the bowl of wine. "What did you say?" she asks, her tone 
dangerously neutral. "'Tis nay enough that you poison me with the Water, 
but now y'want t'finish off the job of killing me with those *things*?"

C'vadan leans back. "Nothing wrong with tubers. Or the water."

"Naught except that one's a disgusting, vile, revolting, grotesque 
specimen of a vegetable, and the other spreads the Benden Flu," Kassi 
snaps. "Which is enough for me to mark 'em off m'preferred dining list."

C'vadan smirks broadly. "Old wives tales and a lot of coincidence, 
Kassima. You should know that."

Kassima isn't about to give up that easily, as anyone who knows her could 
have predicted with no problems. "'Tis neither of those things that make 
tubers unbearable," she grates. "And there's nay such thing as 
coincidence. You can only stretch coincidence so far a'fore it starts 
weakening as a reason, and 'tis past that time for the Water."

C'vadan points to several women who are either drinking water or have been 
known to drink water. "They aren't pregnant. I bet I could give water to 
the next woman who walks in here and she won't become pregnant."

Lysseth> Cygnith backwings for a landing.

Lysseth> Cygnith *BUGLES* greeting as he lands, his tiny rider tugging off 
helmet and gloves before undoing her straps.

"How d'you know? Have you asked their Healers?" Kassi asks silkily, then 
looks a bit interested at mention of a bet. "The stakes?"

C'vadan ponders this. "One month's servitude?"

Lysseth> Asrai makes her way down from Cygnith's back.

Kassima shakes her head. "One week's," she retaliates. "One week's, and 
an expensive Turnday gift bought for the person of the winner's choice by 
the loser."

Lysseth> Cygnith croons on a more gentle note to the obviously glowing 
Lysseth.

Asrai walks in from the bowl.

C'vadan knows he will win. "One month and the gift." He offers his hand.

Lysseth> Lysseth growls in return, still sharpening her claws on what few 
rocks she hasn't already abused into uselessness.

Kassima shakes her head. "One *week*," she corrects. "On that, I'll shake, 
but nay on a month." She pitches this quietly, having caught Asrai's 
entrance out of the corner of one wary eye.

C'vadan chuckles. "What? you worried you will lose, Kassi?"

Asrai comes in, tugging at the buckles on her jacket in the warmer climate 
of the living cavern. Seeing her friends, but not yet close enough to hear 
them, she lifts a hand in greeting as she continues to struggle.

"The Stuff is cruel," Kassi notes. "It might choose not to work just to 
spite me. Wouldn't be the first time."

C'vadan is all smiles. "So you aren't completely sure, are you?" he asks, 
having her over the proverbial barrel.

Lysseth> Cygnith's toung flicks out, as if tasting the air. He settles in, 
another croon of admiration thrown in for Lysseth's fine talons.

Kassima snorts. "Even the Stuff doesn't do miracles, C'vadan. All she'd 
have t'do is nay sleep with anyone for a month or three."

Asrai finally gets the buckles undone, opening her jacket for comfort. 
Running a hand through slightly damp hair, she tries to put it in some 
semblance of order.

C'vadan gets up. "Not if the right person was chosen" he murmurs to 
Kassima. Going to the serving table, he pours something into a mug, then 
calls Asrai over. "Settle a bet for me, Asrai," he says. "Tell me if you 
taste the peppermint in this."

Kassima sighs and waves her hand. "All right, all right. A month and the 
gift. Deal made. Heard and witnessed. And all that sort of thing."

Asrai blinks in suprise, "Pepermint? Is it one of those liquor things 
Kassi is always talking about. Like the one's from Boll?" A smile alights 
her face, not being aposed to something like that at all. She makes her 
way over to the table and takes a seat by Kassi.

C'vadan offers the cup to Asrai. "Try it. It won't hurt you." he looks at 
Kassi when he says that.

Lysseth> Juliath backwings for a landing.

Lysseth> Meli slips smoothly down from Juliath's neck to her foreleg and 
to the ground, giving her a gentle caress.

Kassima rolls her eyes at Cav, but says nothing. "'Tis nay a liquor, 
precisely, but 'tis nay a bad thing." No, the peppermint's perfectly 
fine... but she says nothing about what it's in.

Lysseth> Lysseth ignores her clutchsister's arrival entirely, at least in 
part because she's restlessly dozing as far from the other dragons as she 
can be.

Lysseth> Juliath sidles, best a dragon can, away from Lysseth and finds a 
comfortable spot at the edge of the bowl.

Asrai frowns in puzzlement, but these are her friends..and even if a drink 
could, they certainly wouldn't hurt her. She takes the mug with a shrug 
and sniffs it...nothing. With another shrug she tips the mug back, 
draining a good portion of it. She looks at the others, "I don't taste 
any pepermint, its rather bland. Like it has no...taste..." She looks into 
the mug, the color draining from her face. "What have you done?" she asks 
in a whisper.

Meli walks in from the bowl.

Kassima shrugs. "I've done naught," she drawls. "What Cav's done, y'might 
have anticipated, given his past history."

C'vadan shakes his head. "It is nothing, Asrai. I promise," he says 
sincerely.

C'vadan shoots Kassima a glare. "You are just as much a part of this 
silliness as I, greenrider. Remember that."

Meli walks in, shaking rain from her hair and jacket, unbundling Tamlin 
now that they are safely inside. Moving further into the room, she slows 
as she approaches Kassi, gives her a careful look, and then sits down a 
few seats away. Slowly. Deliberately. Without looking away from Kassi's 
face.

Lysseth> Jaralth backwings for a landing.

Kassima eyes Cav, and simply shakes her head. "'Twas your idea, 'twas nay? 
I simply agreed to wager on... the peppermint. Ready to conceed victory 
yet?" Eyes travelling now towards Meli, she nods an almost imperceptible 
greeting to her friend. "What're you staring at?" she asks, though she 
sounds more resigned than annoyed.

"Not much, I guess," Meli replies, now turning her face to make coo-coo 
noises at Tamlin.

Asrai's face does not regain its color at their assurances, "That..that 
was the Water, wasn't it?" She looks up at Cav first, "You gave me the 
Water." Then over to Kassi, "And you let him.." Her hands begin to shake, 
the bottom of the mug clanging against the table.

C'vadan just shakes his head. Too much estrogen in the room. "I think I 
will go take a walk before I accompany 'Lys to Igen."

Lysseth> Astride Jaralth, K'ti unfastens her straps then pats her mate on 
the neck, "Nice landin dearluv. Always easy."

Meli glances up, with an "Oh! Cav, don't go. Would y'hold Tamlin f'me a 
minute while I get some dinner?"

Kassima replies in a chill voice, "Asrai, I told y'enough times the story 
of how he tricked me into drinking the Water by disguising it with 
peppermint extract. If'n y'didn't listen, 'twas nay m'business to 
interfere. How'm I t'know y'didn't *want* to drink it? Some do, y'know. 
For whatever reason."

C'vadan blinks and looks at Asrai. "Yes. It was simply water. Nothing to 
fear, no matter what some superstitious folls may think." He smiles at 
Meli. "Sure. I'd be happy to."

Meli gently shifts Tamlin, setting him down.

C'vadan carefully cradles Tamlin in his arms.

Benden Weyr> C'vadan has to leave soonish if I'm to get home in time to 
be further abused by Kassima :)

Lysseth> K'ti dismounts from Jaralth's neck, sliding down his extended 
foreleg gracefully to the ground. A large blue head swings around to watch 
her with softly whirling blue eyes.

Benden Weyr> Kassima just beams. Yay, abuse! ;)

K'ti walks in from the bowl.

Meli rises, crossing quickly to the serving table, heaping up a load of 
this, that and the other into a large gloop of food. She nearly scurries 
back, balancing the plate and a mug of cider. "Whew."

From C'vadan's arms, Tamlin glances up at C'vadan and gurgles, drooling 
slightly.

C'vadan holds Tamlin carefully as he tickles the child under the chin. "It 
is a good thing you look more like your mother."

From C'vadan's arms, Tamlin gurgles again, eyes crossing slightly as he 
tries to focus on Cav's face. Unexpectedly, he throws up a little of what 
looks like milk and mushed fingerroot.

Kassima is polishing off the last scraps of wine-soaked raw fish from her 
bowl, with her bare hands no less. Once she's finished with that, she 
liberates a towel and someone's water glass to wash her hands; apparently, 
she thinks it's safe enough to wash in. With a brief nod to K'ti, she 
glances at Meli's plate. "Lots of food," she observes dispassionately.

K'ti skirts teh room, heading for a nice warm bowl of beast soup that she 
knows is waiting somewhere near the hearth for her. She shucks off the 
damp jacket over her shoulders.

It's amazing, Asrai actually looks angry. Not her normal confused or 
hurt...but angry. Her voice is pitched level, however as she speaks, 
"Kassi, its not a matter of wether or not I was smart enough to remember. 
And when Lysseth stops glowing, perhaps you'll realise what it is you've 
done." She also puts the mug down, far from her...either that or its bound 
to break in her shaking hand.

C'vadan gently shifts Tamlin, setting him down.

Meli carefully cradles Tamlin in her arms.

Kassima eyes Asrai and points out in that same cold tone used before, "I 
shouldn't say this, but I will. 'Tis up t'you whether you let the Water 
affect you. All y'have to do t'be sure of it is stay celibate for a few 
months. That's all. I did naught except accept Cav's proposal. If'n that's 
a crime, then half the Weyr's like as nay full of criminals." She seems 
notably unimpressed by the other rider's anger, but that was to be 
expected.

Meli listens to the other riders with one ear, while carefully wiping 
Tamlin's chin and mouth with a dampened cloth. "Wha's goin' on, anyway?" 
she finally asks, when it's clear she won't be able to puzzle it out on 
her own.

K'ti fetchs her bowl then finds a seat. She shakes her head a little, 
commenting aloud, "b'ware the water. Unless y've alot of time on yer 
hands."

Asrai's knuckles are white in the fists they clench in on her lap. "Why 
should I stay celibate Kassi, when I've finally found happiness in 
another's arms. It wouldn't be fare to either of us." At K'ti's words she 
starts to shake again, her eyes alternating between anger and fear.

Kassima jerks her thumb towards Asrai. "She seems intent on blaming me for 
Cav tricking her into drinking the Water," is the greenrider's 
explanation. "Nay that I should *expect* logic or reason around here, much 
less sensibility, but part of me apparently always held out some scrap of 
hope. Thankee, Asrai, for ridding me of it; 'tis nay a thing one can 
afford t'have. If'n y'don't want t'be celibate, all right; your choice. I 
think the Water works, but even I have to admit that sometimes it does 
nay. Mayhaps you'll get lucky."

Meli finishes with Tamlin, shifting him into his sling where hopefully 
he'll go back to sleep. "So, lemme get this straight. /Cav/ fed Asrai some 
o'the Water. And now Asrai's mad at you?"

K'ti motions towards the doorway, "Salless snuck s'm water in with m'moss 
tea when I was sick.. next thing I knew I had Kytill. I ain't mothered a 
babe in th'twenty turns I've been a rider."

K'ti adds, with a nod, "till him, that is."

Kassima rolls her eyes. "That's precisely it! I mean, aye, I knew he was 
going to, but I didn't encourage her t'drink it--all I said was that 
peppermint doesn't hurt aught. And it doesn't. Fardles, 'twas his notion, 
his proposal, and his Water--yet I'm the one getting the blame? Oh, aye!" 
Glances at K'ti, and nods briskly. "Aye, Cav tricked me into drinking some 
of the Water, and now I've got Kay... coincidence?"

Asrai shakes her head, still looking like she's in shock. although she's 
with it enough to wince at K'ti's words. "Well Kassi, perhaps I shouldn't 
have felt that I could trust you enough to tell me when someone was giving 
me the Water. Perhaps I should have guessed that you'd actually strike a 
bet with him on whether or not it would work. that's what all the month 
servitude and a gift was about, wasn't it?"

Meli says over her shoulder, as she fusses further with her own child, 
"Well, can't say's I've ever had th'Water, an' I've got Tam anyway."

K'ti shrugs and explains, "It'll happen sometimes on it's own, never 
needed help in some places. S'why other weyrs c'n have kids. Benden? It's 
always th'water... faster'n annathin fer gittn one wi'child."

K'ti settles to eating the stew, savoring the flavor like she's a starved 
woman- not at all. After a few moments she finally slows down enough to 
taste it. Dinnah.

Kassima folds her arms and merely nods. "Aye, 'twas. He struck the bet; I 
simply agreed. And perhaps you should have. Perhaps you should've looked 
out for yourself instead of trusting others t'look after you. I advise it. 
Aught else is nay bloody way t'be living." Glancing at K'ti again, she 
once more nods. "That's what I bet on, but we'll see. 'Twas dosed with it 
twice by Cav, but the first time was nay problem... even the Water can't 
do miracles. The second was a'fore one of Lysseth's flights, though."

Asrai's anger seems to have dissapated, like anything else that has to do 
with her attention span. "You're right, of course. I should no longer 
trust people I believe to be my friends..." she trails off, shaking her 
head, knowing she'll never be able to follow that advise. Standing she 
takes the 'mug' over to the serving table, dumping out the water. Looking 
around she takes up a wineskin. If it can kill the harmful effects of the 
raw meat Kassi seems so fond of, perhaps it can negate the effects of the 
Water.

Meli snorts, shaking her head. "Honestly, y'd think you were th'one w'a 
proddy dragon, Asrai," she says through a smile. "Relax, don' go from one 
extreme to t'other, neh? There's a happy medium 'tween bein' too naive and 
bein' completely cynical."

Kassima nods in seeming agreement, and sighs. "Well. *That* was 
interesting. So, Meli. How's Tamlin?" She seems to be asking more for 
conversation's sake than out of real interest, but at least she didn't 
work bloody, fardling, sharding, or anything like that into the query.

Asrai even manages to remember to get a wineglass. Sitting back down at 
the table she shrugs, "I am who I am. I could never not trust my friends I 
don't think. " She pours herself a tall glass, draing quite a bit of it 
before saying to herself, "A happy medium, that would be nice. Felinar's 
gonna kill me." She then looks over at the other two to hear about the 
baby.

Meli turns in her seat, showing her sleeping son to the other two. "Tam's 
fine, got rid o'that rash, an' he's not wakin' me up as much in th'middle 
o'the night." She grins at Kassi, "But then, y'd know that, 'less that 
back weyr is far enough away t'be quiet?"

Kassima gives a wry, and mostly mirthless, smile. "Aye... nay, 'tis nay. 
But it wouldn't bother me if'n he was, since I don't sleep much these days 
anyway."

Asrai smiles over at the baby, the wine having made her a little more at 
ease. She drains the rest off the glass and imediately pours herself 
another.

T'fian walks in from the bowl.

T'fian strides into the cavern. "What an interesting winter," he comments 
as he pulls off his coat. "More like Greystones than Benden."

Asrai looks over in mid gulp of wine, waving to T'fian. She lowers the 
glass long enough to greet the weyrsecond. "Good Day, sir."

Meli finally starts eating her lukewarm meal, giving T'fian a nod as she 
does so.

T'fian hangs his riding jacket up on a peg near the tunnel entrance, and 
walks over to the hearths, pausing to nod to Asrai. "Good evening, 
Bluerider," he says politely, inclining his head to her. Arriving at the 
hearths, he spends a moment to warm his hands, then glances around the 
cavern.

Kassima finishes drinking the last of the wine and fish juice from her 
bowl, and salutes the Weyrsecond with said bowl. "More's the pity," she 
snorts. "Fardling rain. Even the blasted white crud would be better'n 
this."

T'fian walks over to Kassima's table, smiling at the greenrider. "I don't 
know. I rather like it. Better than snow, anyway."

Asrai shrugs, "I don't know, I like the snow better...its prettier."

"And colder," is T'fian's reply to Asrai. "Well, it seems Ista's getting 
our weather ans we're getting theirs."

Kassima shakes her head in disagreement. "I hate rain," she grumbles, 
expression sour. "I don't like it. I'd rather have the effing snow. 
Thought I'd finally gotten *away* from winters like this, but nay... the 
weather just doesn't like me, I figure." She mutters a few more epithets 
under her breath, glaring at the Bowl exit.

Lysseth> Quinath backwings for a landing.

Asrai shrinks back slightly from the rather volitile Kassima. Her wine is 
much safer anyway....so she concentrates on that.

Benden Weyr> T'fian says, "Effing?"

Lysseth> Meroth warbles brightly at his weyrmate.

Benden Weyr> Meli says, "Fardling?"

Lysseth> Cygnith rumbles a greeting to the approaching Blue.

Lysseth> Quinath makes a spectacular splashdown in the largest puddle 
available, much to his rider's disgust. She blinks mudwater and rain from 
her eyes, her expression furious as she shouts, "That's twice, Quinath!"

Benden Weyr> Kassima shrugs. My relatives use it, and I wanted something I 
hadn't already used a zillion times. :)

T'fian grins at Kassima. He just can't seem to help himself. "It wasn't 
like this last winter."

Lysseth> Cygnith rumbles in amusement and appreciation of Quinath's humor.

Lysseth> Quinath turns his head and attempts an apologetic croon as he 
sidles out of the puddle, but it comes out with just a tad too much 
chuckle.

"I noticed, sir," Kassi replies dryly. "Winter lasted two extra months 
last Turn, or so it seemed at the time. With Lysseth dumping me in the 
fardling white crud every day of it. I was ever so delighted with *that* 
development."

Lysseth> Meroth sits up on his haunches, opens his mouth, and ... rumbles 
quietly .... He drops to his feet and steps quickly away from the other 
blue, so as to not get mud on his pristine pale hide.

Lysseth> Rosalen scritches Quinath's neck ridge fondly before sliding down 
his shoulder, landing lightly on the ground.

Lysseth> Rosalen glares at her blue as she pushes rain-soaked tendrils of 
hair from her face. She grimaces as one of them ends up in her mouth...one 
which was gritty with wet dirt.

T'fian settles into a chair at Kassima's table without asking. "Somebody 
apparently awoke on the wrong side of the bed this morning, eh?"

Lysseth> Rosalen stomps into the lc without a backward glance.

Lysseth> Quinath rolls his eyes piteously but rumblechuckles, hopping back 
into the middle of the puddle.

Rosalen walks in from the bowl.

Asrai shakes her head slightly, amazed at the true courage T'fian shows in 
joking with the proddy Greenrider. She then lifts a hand in greeting to 
Rosalen as she enters.

Rosalen stomps awkwardly across the cavern in the direction of the klah 
pot, once again soaked to the bone from one of her blue's infamous messy 
landings.

Kassima scowls briefly, and shakes her head. "Didn't wake up at all, sir," 
she replies shortly. "Hard t'wake up when a certain fardling green lump 
won't let one get any bloody effing *sleep* worth talking about for three 
bloody days."

Rosalen has eyes only for the klah pot and the towel she pulls violently 
from the back of a chair. She rubs furiously at her gritty wet hair and 
scowls.

T'fian smiles brightly at the greenrider. "'Three bloody days?' Well, that 
would definitely explain the bad mood. But Lysseth can't help it, I'm 
sure." He looks away from Kassima for a moment and spies a wet weyrmate. 
"Excuse me," he says to Kassima and stands, walking towards the klah pot 
on a path to intercept Rosalen.

Asrai's eyes follow Rosalen, shaking her head slightly in understanding of 
lifemates that like to have their fun at their rider's expense. She then 
looks back at Kassi and drinks more of her wine.

Rosalen leans over, letting her hair hang down, and wraps the towel turban 
style around her head. She stands back up again and finds herself nearly 
face to face with her weyrmate. Her scowl turns into a sheepish grin as 
she says,"Hi."

Kassima grumbles under her breath, "Can't help it, hah. If'n the 
argumentative beast didn't pick a fardling debate every few minutes, maybe 
I could get rid of these thrice-cursed headaches *enough* t'sleep, but 
naaaaay...." Talking to herself has become a pretty common thing for Kassi 
today, so she doesn't gather too many odd looks. Sighing, she picks up 
another block of wood and knife and starts carving... something. She's not 
very good at carving.

T'fian smiles softly at Rosalen, looking at her. "Quinath landed in the 
mud, didn't he?"

Meli is very happy she chose to sit down with an empty space between 
herself and Kassi as the other greenrider begins to flick wood chips 
hither and yon. She finishes her meal, picking one highly errant chip from 
the mashed tubers, and washes it all down with her cider.

Rosalen chuckles ruefully, brushing at her sleeves and knocking the worst 
of the sloppy mud globs to the floor with a splat,"Again. This is the 
second time today...he /aims/ for that puddle."

Asrai giggles softly as Meli picks the wood chip from her food. "Having 
problems there Meli?"

R'val walks in from the bowl.

"Mashed tubers are revolting," Kassi quips out of the blue, without 
looking up from her carving. It's starting to look vaguely human-shaped... 
vaguely being the operative word.

R'val strides into the cavern, with a cheerful wave as he heads towards 
the klah pot, "Evening!"

Meli smiles, as she glances over at Asrai. "Nothin' I'm not used to, wha' 
w'bein' such good friends w'/this/ one," she replies, with a hook of her 
thumb towards Kassi.

T'fian chuckles. "He's always landed in that puddle," he says. "Often 
drives Meroth insane, especially when there's a green nearby." He looks 
somewhat unsure of himself as he asks, "Besides Quinath's antics, how are 
you?"

Asrai has a wineskin and half full glass in front of her at the table with 
Meli and Kassi. Seeing R'val she waves a greeting with her free hand, 
"Heya R'val." she then does a good job of finishing off most of what she 
had left in the glass. At Meli's words she nods, "Yes, I supose one would 
have to get used to such things."

R'val smiles in greeting to Asrai as he sits, "Hullo, Asrai." he remarks, 
leaning back in his seat and kicking up his heels, "How goes?"

Rosalen cradles one hand over her rounding belly and grins,"Starving. How 
about you?" Her stomach growls loudly as if to punctuate her question.

Asrai shrugs, refilling her glass. "Well enough all things considered, I 
supose. How bout yourself?" She doesn't go into why she seems bent on 
drowning herself with wine tonight. as a matter of fact, one might be 
suprised at how well she's putting the stuff dow, as small as she is.

T'fian glances downward, chuckling. "I should leave you alone to get some 
food in peace. 'Cause I know I probably don't want to watch what you get. 
Sweeps today were pretty uneventful. I was concerned about some of the 
passes with all this rain, but there've been no mudslides in the Benden 
Range."

Kassima snorts audibly, pausing for a moment in her hacking and mutilating 
of the wood. "I suppose I would fall under the catagory of things one 
would have t'get used to, aye," she says to Asrai in a dry tone that's 
wholly devoid of amusement. Chop, chop, chop, as she returns her attention 
to the wood. This one is already sporting several large knife-gouges 
across the 'face' part of its head... its future doesn't look too bright.

R'val grins fondly at Rosalen, "Equally starving! What's for sup?"

Rosalen's expression falters with a bit of disappointment as her weyrmate 
seems unwilling to join her, but she recovers quickly and grins,"I don't 
know what I'm in the mood to eat tonight..." She turns her grin to R'val 
as she hears his words and chuckles.

Asrai shakes her head, "Not you Kassi, just your actions about this time 
of year."

R'val grins at Rosalen, "Neither do I!" He looks towards the kitchen, "If 
only Ofira was here...."

T'fian glances towards Kassima, then back at Rosalen, seeing her 
expression. "What's wrong?"

Rosalen smiles, reaching out to squeeze T'fian's hand,"Nothing...I'm just 
sorry that my dinner choices lately have made you not want to be near me 
when I eat." She chuckles, her cheeks pink, as her stomach growls 
insistently once more.

T'fian shakes his head. "Oh," he says, chuckling. "Not that. I didn't mean 
that. I just didn't want to see your methods of procuring the food." He 
glances towards Kassima pointedly at that for some obscure reason.

Kassima grimaces. "Aye, well, 'tis nay as though I'm the only proddy rider 
people have t'get used to. Y'should see K'nan. Drawing knives on people, 
tracking blood all over the place, flirting... gah! 'Least Veyath's nay 
glowing *too* this time. Really, last time was just too fardling much."

Ofira walks in from the kitchen.

Benden Weyr> Kassima racks her brain to think of what, besides a'course 
the mutilation of dead animals, she's done to procure food that would be 
objectionable to watch. ;)

Rosalen's eyes follow T'fian's glance toward Kassima and blanches slightly 
as she remembers the dead raw fish in wine from earlier in the day,"Oh...I 
plan to get mine from the table...not, um...elsewhere..."

R'val shudders at the mention of K'nan, in his proddy state, and beams as 
he spots Ofira, waving, "Hullo Ofira!"

Asrai grins and nods in agreement. "You're right, pretty much all proddy 
rider's actions take some time getting used to. As far as K'nan goes, yes, 
a good thing indeed that Veyath isn't glowing as well. but then again, any 
time there are two glowing at the same time there is bound to be trouble."

Benden Weyr> T'fian says, "Dead raw fish in wine?"

Benden Weyr> Rosalen grins,"Sliced dead raw fish soaked in wine...right, 
Kassima?"

Benden Weyr> J'lyn says, "The word 'proddy' comes to mind, Tiffy..."

Benden Weyr> Kassima yeps. *Very* fresh slices of fish--she went ice-
fishing--in a bowl of wine to sterilize them. Yum, yum. It's even better 
with bloody raw wherry, though.

Benden Weyr> Kassima says, "Precisement, Rosa. ;)"

Benden Weyr> J'lyn has the most awful segues going thru his head...

T'fian smiles. "Didn't you send me out to High Reaches once when you were 
pregnant with Telen to get that iced cream that T'gar is so fond of? And a 
numerous other little trips to get fruit and the like... well, after you 
got better anyway."

Benden Weyr> Rosalen says, "Fish heads, fish heads, roly poly fish 
heads...fish heads, fish heads...eat them up...yum."

Benden Weyr> J'lyn was thinking along the lines of -- Dead fish in wine=
Pickled Herring, Herring=Chopping down trees...

Makeda walks in from the kitchen.

Kassima notes sourly, "Especially K'nan. He gets *so* upset just because I 
said that I'd have to, as Aph's friend, tell her that he was planning on 
*going on a picnic*--with a proddy dragon, nay less!--with some other 
woman. Can't imagine why. You'd think he'd *want* Aph t'be invited." 
Something about her voice, or perhaps her smirk, suggest that she knows 
better than that despite her words.

Rosalen's face lights up as she realizes what T'fian means and her mouth 
waters,"Mmmm...Iced cream /with/ fruit. That sounds /good/!"

Makeda wipes her hands on her apron as she comes in from the kitchen. She 
waves and smiles cheerily to Ofira. "Evenin' everyone."

Ofira smiles and waves to the others, "'Evening. Did I hear correctly? Are 
you discussing food?"

Meli just sits, safely a seat or so away from Kassi, joggling her sleeping 
son and watching with ill-disguised fascination.

T'fian glances towards Ofira. "Oh, good evening, Master. I believe we were 
discussing some specialty items that usually aren't readily available 
here." He looks back at Rosalen.

Rosalen nods to Ofira,"Iced cream...with fruit." She sighs wistfully, 
placing a hand over the roundness of her stomach at the precise moment it 
growls...again.

Makeda chuckles. "I've finally made those sweetbreads from Igen that the 
Weyrleader wanted, Master Ofira."

Kassima notes to Ofira, "'Twas discussing K'nan tracking blood everywhere, 
which is sort of related t'food, I suppose. Is there any of that raw 
wherry left?"

R'val's eyes alight and he glances at Makeda, beaming, "Sweetbreads?"

Makeda nods. "I made them from the recipe K'tyn gave me. I hope they taste 
like they're supposed to."

Rosalen makes a sour face, aimed in Kassima's direction.

K'ti shoves around at a roll for a moment before spearing it with her 
knife and cutting it up into bits.

Ofira laughs, "Ice cream, sweet breads and blood...always interesting 
around here. I could make you some ice cream Rosalen, but it wouldn't be 
ready until tomorrow I'm afraid."

Asrai nods absently, not really wanting to get into this discussion. So 
instead she concentrates on single handedly finishing off the wine skin 
before her.

Makeda winces at the thought of -that- combination.

T'fian pauses, looking back at Ofira. "You can make ice cream?" he asks, 
curious and surprised. "Then why did T'garrick always go to High Reaches 
to get it?"

Rosalen smiles eagerly, leaning forward in excited anticipation, which 
jiggles the towel-turban on her head loose. One end of the towel flops 
into her face, the other drapes over the top and back of her head and 
muddy tendrils of hair stick out every which way as she emits a muffled, 
"Oh, could you really, Ofira?"

"Ice cream, sweet breads, and blood," Kassi muses. "Hmmmm. Get rid of the 
ice cream and drench the sweetbread with blood, and mayhaps... ach, nay."

R'val regards Kassima strangely, shuddering at her choice of appetizers 
before he turns back to nod at T'fian, "Good question...Perhaps he 
preferred it?"

K'ti chuckles, "B'cause th'harder it is t'find, T'fian, the sweeter it is 
t'eat, maybe?"

Kassima continues her ponderances. "Now, mayhaps if'n you'd *normal* 
bread... a sandwich, even... with lots of raw wherry and fish both, and 
soaked *that*... it might work. Mayhaps. But the wine would dilute it too 
much... nay, nay, 'tis implausible." She sighs regretfully, another idea 
for variety in her rather limited diet down the drain.

Lysseth> Pryth backwings for a landing.

Lysseth> Sonya climbs down Pryth slowly.

T'fian smiles at K'ti. "Must have been really sweet down at Ista then."

Ofira looks at Rosalen more closely and then nods, "Sure...I'll start it 
and you could have it tomorrow." She looks over at Makeda, "Apprentice, 
when you are free, you may assist me with that..."

Asrai watches the conversations go on around her.

Makeda looks at Kassima thoughtfully. "Why do you want to eat all that 
'raw' stuff anyway?"

R'val regards Ofira hopefully, "Will you make enough for us all?" he 
beams.

Lysseth> Sonya leaps off Pryth and makes a dash for the caverns, racing 
between the drops.

Sonya walks in from the bowl.

Lysseth> Adonith backwings for a landing.

Makeda turns towards Ofira. "Oh, yes, Ma'am. I've helped with that 
before. Do we have salt for it?"

K'ti looks to think a moment then nods, "Some o'the best. Specially 
packed in some snow fresh from th'area, still frozen. A rare rare treat, 
though."

Lysseth> Alyssa slides down the beautiful purplish blue flank of her 
lifemate to come to a rest on the ground, Adonith swinging his head around 
to regard her adoringly.

Lysseth> Meroth sits up on his haunches and bugles at Pryth in greeting.

R'val spots Sonya entering and blinks in surprise, grinning, "Sonya! Hey!"

Ofira laughs, "Yes, R'val, if you insist..." she nods to Makeda, "We do...
but it will take us a while to get it frozen properly..." She looks at 
T'fian, "It's an easier dish for them to prepare at the High Reaches, but 
it 's quite possible to do it here as well."

Rosalen pulls the towel off her head and grins, looking ridiculous as her 
mud-coated half-dried hair sticks straight out from her head in all 
directions. She leans back over and wraps it up in the towel again.

Lysseth> Dulath backwings for a landing.

R'val beams at Ofira, "You're a marvel."

Lysseth> Lysseth is curled up on one side of the Bowl, as far away from 
the others as draconically possible, with the remains of several shattered 
rocks scattered around her. She opens her eyes briefly and snarls at the 
newly-arrived.

Sonya races in, barely even wet. Her eyes get used to the glowlight and 
she spots R'val, well and hears him. "Heya R'val. You're actually here," 
she teases.

Lysseth> C'vadan slides off Dulath's shoulders to the ground, turning to 
give his lifemate a quick salute and then an affectionate pat on the neck.

Ofira smiles and says rather proudly, "No, just a Baker."

Alyssa walks here from the Inner Cavern.

Lysseth> Cygnith bugles greeting to both Pryth, Adonith and Dulath as the 
Blues arrive.

R'val grins, "A marvelous baker." he winks a trifle flirtatiously and 
turns to beam at Sonya, "Aye, I spend most of my time here, believe it or 
not." He pulls a seat out for the bluerider, "Come join me?"

Lysseth> Pryth lands and bugles an egually loud greeting back to Meroth.

C'vadan walks in from the bowl.

Rosalen smiles and waves as she sees Alyssa enter, her towel-turban 
slipping precariously to one side. She pushes it back with her free hand.

C'vadan shakes off the rain as he enters. "Hey, all," he says.

Rosalen waves to C'vadan too.

Makeda smiles shyly as more riders and weyrfolk pour into the cavern and 
finds a place near Ofira.

T'fian looks towards R'val and then at the person he greeting. Then sees 

Alyssa enter behind Sonya and pauses.

Kassima eyes the sculpture of a man that she had been working on, and, 
with as neat a toss as you please, flings it into the fire and proceeds to 
watch with satisfaction as it burns. Alyssa's entrance, though, actually 
catches her attention... wonder of wonders, and all of that. "Alyssa," she 
calls over, "c'mere for a moment?"

Sonya is heading over to Salless and nods to R'val. "In just a minute. I 
actually came to say something to Salless first. Then I'll visit." She 
talks quietly to Salless for a moment.

Lysseth> Quinath rolls over in his mudpuddle, creating a respectable wake. 
He lies on his back and peers upside-downly at the new arrival, bugling 
happily.

Lysseth> Jaralth lifts up his head, and even if he's not newly-arrived, he 
treats the lovely's greeting growl with a welcoming croon.

Ofira turns to Makeda, after waving to the others coming in, "The first 
thing we need is cream, and then sugar..."

C'vadan starts for Alyssa until he sees Kassima call for her. He heads for 
Asrai instead.

Asrai waves to all the ariving riders with her free hand, the other is 
firmly around a partially filled wine glass. The slack in the wineskin 
tells that she's been drinking for sometime, although she doesn't seem to 
be as effected by it as you would think.

Makeda says "What flavor shall we make?"

C'vadan notices the skin. "Celebrating something?" he asks.

Kassima adds very belatedly to Makeda, "I eat it because 'tis the only 
thing in life *worth* eating at the moment. Anything else tastes off."

Ofira says thoughtfully, "Berry I think...there are still a lot of 
blueberries..."

Alyssa appears from the inner cavern, childless; she wraps her cloak more 
closely about her and sighs, quietly. "Good evening, everyone," she 
murmurs with a gesture of greeting in response to Rosalen before moving 
toward Kassima. "Yes, Kassima?"

Lysseth> Pryth settles down on the bowl, watching the other dragons.

Rosalen grabs a meatroll from a platter on the table before her stomach 
gets the opportunity to growl again. She bites off an enormous chunk and 
chews with some difficulty.

Lysseth> Dulath warbles a pleasant greeting to all the dragons, resuming 
his normal vigil, though his attention is caught by Lysseth's movements.

Makeda nods with enthusiasm. "Oh that would be good, blueberry icecream!" 
She licks her lips with anticipation.

Asrai shakes her head, "No, I figured that if the wine kills whatever is 
bad in the raw meat that Kassi's been eating..then it might kill whatever 
is bad in the Water."

Kassima ducks under the table for a moment, hauling up a satchel that 
she'd stashed there. She flips open the flap and pulls out a thin, oval-
shaped thingamajigger wrapped in black, with a pitch-black bow that for 
once isn't ludicrously floppy. If anything, it's just the opposite. "'Tis 
your Turnday, so I'd best give y'this now lest my record of forever being 
belated with the sharding things go unbroken."

Lysseth> Juliath, safely ensconced near the edge of the bowl, watches 
Lysseth with a wary eye.

Salless nods at Sonya as she orders something.

C'vadan rolls his eyes. "You have nothing to worry about with the water, 
Asrai."

Ofira nods to Makeda, "It's fairly simple...just cream and sugar and 
blueberry. We mix it, freeze it part way, mix again, and freeze firm..."

Salless pours a mug of klah from the klah pot for Sonya.

Makeda looks over and chuckles at Asrai. "What's the matter with the 
water? I drink it all the time."

Looking somewhat surprised at the remark, Alyssa murmurs, "I didn't think 
anyone knew, Kassima...that's kind of you."

R'val smiles at Sonya as she sits, "So how's Pryth doing?"

Lysseth> Lysseth yawns mightily at the crooning, rustling her wings 
irritably. She doesn't seem overly pleased at being awakened from her 
sleep.

Sonya finishes talking with Salless and chuckles. She accepts the klah 
with a smile. "Thanks Salless, i'll be sure to remember that." With that 
said, she heads over to R'val, through the crowd. "Heya R'val. Is it 
always this crowded?"

Meli shifts sideways slightly, the better to watch Kassi and Alyssa.

Asrai looks over at the App Baker with a shrug, "Its a well know fact that 
the Water makes you more likely to get pregnant. Cav gave me some 
earlier." she seems awfully mellow now about it. "And I'm not taking any 
chances C'vadan because Felinar doesn't want to have children...least not 
any time soon."

Rosalen takes her meatroll back to her weyr, smiling in happy anticipation 
of blueberry ice cream.

R'val nods his head, "Usually at this hour it is, Sonya." He smiles at her 
amiably.

Rosalen walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.

Kassima shrugs, still proferring the parcel carefully. Carefully enough 
that it's probably something fragile. "Enh. Looked it up in that register 
they've got of 'em when you said I'd missed yours last time. This is from 
a lot of us, not just me; I just happened t'be the one who picked it up 
when m'cousin Ethrian was finished with it."

Makeda nods solemnly at Asrai. "But it takes more than the water, doesn't 
it?"

C'vadan smiles at Makeda's comment.

R'val chuckles, "Much more, Makeda."

T'fian walks towards the inner cavern.

Ofira says to Makeda, "You don't need to worry about the water, 
Apprentice, since all your concentration is on your studies just now." She 
smiles a little.

Asrai nods in agreement with the others, "Something more that I didn't 
have to worry about before."

Makeda grins at both R'val and C'vadan. "Well then, I don't have to worry 
about drinking the water, do I?"

Alyssa takes the package delicately and turns it over her her long-
fingered hands. "I'm certain whatever it is, it is very special. Thank 
you."

K'ti pulls her legs up on the bench and finally pushes away the stew, 
empty.

Makeda eeps a little looking guiltily at Ofira. "Of course, Ma'am. I even 
dream about cooking."

Asrai shakes her head, still drinking the wine with gusto, "No, most 
likely not."

Ofira nods to Makeda approvingly, "Then you're definitely doing something 
right."

T'fian walks here from the Inner Cavern.

Salless drains the Klah in the Klah pot to make some fresh.

Makeda beams under her Master's approval. "Actually, I dreamed of a new 
dish to make up."

Alyssa begins untying the bow, carefully, adding to Kassima, "You have 
given me such lovely things in the past...truly, Kassima, this was 
unnecessary."

Sonya chuckles, leaning back in her seat. "I'm glad Ista doesn't get this 
crowded." she comments to R'val, eyes roaming the cavern.

R'val chortles, "I think there's a reason it's this crowded." he glances 
at Kassima silently.

Kassima asks of Makeda with some interest while waiting for Lys to open 
her parcel, "D'you dream about hacking up animals for food, too? The last 
time I fell asleep... I think 'twas a five minute nap during that 
meeting... I had this dream about all of these animals and making food out 
of them--marvelous."


---

        Softly shining pewter makes up the frame of this masterpiece of 
the Glasscrafter's art, twining through the piece in a thin but sturdy 
web that holds the rainbow of fragments together. The top of the medium-
sized oval is crowned by a dragon, wings outstretched as though to guard 
his resplendant prize. It is hard to let the eyes linger on him for long, 
however, as the dazzling beauty of the polished glass beneath calls notice 
to itself most effectively.
        Done in an amazing array of colors and hues, the scene depicted is 
one that can often be seen in Benden's Bowl: Alyssa, Skyfire Wingsecond, 
capable dragonhealer, and bluerider, is surrounded by three friendly 
dragons. Sparkling shards with amethyst tints that rather look as though 
violet petals had been scattered over them are set into the part of the 
pattern that makes up Adonith, Alyssa's lifemate. His bright blue eyes 
reflect inner tranquility, quite probably brought on by the presence of 
his lifemate--though that of the two other dragons cannot hurt. The 
smallest of the three is a green of a rich pine hue that is partially 
disguised by an overcast of silver-grey, darkening to charcoal at the 
edges of her wings. With that coloring, she could only be Lysseth. Perched 
near Adonith on the floor of the sandy Bowl, she watches over his rider 
with no hint of her characteristic wariness; rather, if affection can be 
shown in such a work as this, you may be assured that it is found here. 
So, too, can it be seen in the image of the largest dragon, one of rose-
tinted sunrise gold. She is on the other side of Adonith. With the tilt of 
long-accustomed hauteur to her head, it is easy to see in her the image of 
Kindre's lifemate Herath; however, she is more relaxed and friendly now 
than in many another moment, and regards both Adonith and Alyssa with 
fondness.
        The portrayal of the dragonhealer herself is not to be overlooked. 
Pale peach glass is used to show her creamy complexion, and bright gold 
for the hair; the same amethystine tints given to her lifemate grace her 
eyes. Dressed in riding gear, it is as lifelike as glass can possibly be. 
The scene is given the perfect finishing touch by the sky, which is 
radiant with the glorious hues of sunset, lending a crowning touch of 
golden glint to the walls of the Bowl around them.
        Tucked unobtrusively away on the side of the frame, at the bottom, 
is the following inscription: 'Three cheers to Alyssa of Benden, whom all 
the dragons are befriendin'. We give this to say, have a happy Turnday, 
and our many best wishes we're sendin'! With love and many fond regards, 
Kassima, Kindre, C'vadan, Rosalen, K'ti, and Meli.'

---


Ofira eyes Kassima and sighs quietly. She says, "What kind of dish did you 
think of Makeda?"

Makeda overhears Sonya's comment. "Oh, your from that weyr in the desert?" 
She looks at Kassima and shudders. "Not exactly. We usually get the meat 
after it's been cut up."

T'fian strides back into the living cavern, looking around. He doesn't see 
what he was looking for, but his attention is once again caught by Kassima 
and he walks over towards the greenrider.

K'ti glances over for a moment then shakes her head. "Maybe I shoul' be 
goin off t'visit my sister. Beaches.. warm sun. Nothin glowin."

Asrai just sorta shakes her head at Kassi's comment, glad that Emlyn is 
not present. with all this talk of hacking up animals.

Sonya follows R'val look to Kassima and doesn't get it. "Why?" she looks 
over to Makeda and chuckles. "Not the desert. That's Igen. I'm from Ista." 
it's different. At Ista it rains all the time, and they are on an Island. 
Igen just has heat and sand. Thats it. What a product to sell, eh?

Kassima clicks her tongue faintly. "A pity. There's naught like carving up 
fresh meat. And shells, Lys, d'you honestly think we'd get everyone we 
could things for their Turnday and forget you? Honestly!" She snorts, 
still watching her friend and the gift like a hawk.

Makeda turns gratefully back to Ofira. "Take some ground up porcine meat 
and some ground up bovine and cook it with some grains and spices. Cook it 
real slow and then let it cool in bread pans. You could slice it up and 
fry it. It would be good for breakfast. Meats and grains in one!"

Makeda nods to the Istan rider. "I'm sorry I get them mixed up."

Alyssa's fingers tremble as the wrapping falls away, and her eyes fill 
with tears. Lips trembling, she whispers something, something incoherent, 
and just stares in wonder at the delicate glass and pewter work of art.

Ofira looks thoughtfully at Makeda, "What would you use to bind the 
mixture?"

"Guess she likes it," Meli comments quietly.

C'vadan's refocus. "Uh... 'Lys, we are leaving soon, right?" he asks the 
softspoken bluerider. He then blinks when he sees the gift. "Wow," he 
murmurs.

Kassima looks, if anything, a little discomfited with the show of emotion. 
"Shells, Lys, if'n 'tis *that* bad, we can take it back... there's nay 
need t'cry about it."

Makeda answer Ofira while trying to see Alyssa's gift. "Oh the grain 
Ma'am. If you cook it slow, like, like, oatmeal!"

Asrai looks over at alyssa, opening the present. Her violet eyes going 
warm at the look on Alyssa's face. A smile crosses her lips at the rider's 
delight with the turnday gift. She nods in response to Meli's softly 
spoken comment, "Safe bet." She says just as softly.

T'fian walks towards the inner cavern.

Ofira says absently to Makeda, "I would think an egg or two..." as she 
looks over to see what has so pleased Alyssa.

K'ti leans over so she's resting on her elbows on the table. She watches 
the bluerider for the moment, a bit of a grin on her face.

Alyssa sets down the glass and pewter sculpture, with infinite care; 
anyone who regards it can see it is a depiction of Alyssa ringed by a 
small group of her beloved dragons. Wiping at her cheeks, the 
bluerider/dragonhealer embraces Kassima close, then K'ti and Meli and 
C'vadan. "I've never seen anything so wonderfully crafted in my life...how 
can I thank you all?"

"Y'don't," Meli replies through her smile. "We thank you."

C'vadan smiles as he is hugged. "What Meli said."

Kassima now looks extrordinarily discomfited, but she just coughs and 
nods. "Aye, well... if'n y'like it, that's thanks enough, I guess." She 
actually flashes a brief, sincere smile.

Alyssa's gaze moves back toward the work of art as she shakes her head. "I 
just...oh, it's so lovely. I'll take it with me, of course. Of course."

K'ti shakes her head, "Jus be yerself, it's more'n enough fer me.. an Jar 
too."

Asrai continues to smile softly at her fellow Bluerider. "It is a very 
lovely piece."

Ofira smiles, watching Alyssa enjoy the gift her fellow riders have given 
her. "It's lovely," she agrees.

Makeda finally gets a look at the sculpture. Her jaw drops open and she 
stands still-as-statue herself. Finally finding her voice she breaths, 
"Oh, that's beautiful."

Dragon> All dragons sense that Lysseth glows. Glow, glow, glow. She then 
clears her throat and makes an OOC comment, << To whom it may concern, 
I'll be having a flight over Benden Weyr Real Soon Now <tm>. Blooding 
begins in the Feeding Grounds in about ten minutes; interested males are 
welcome, and please turn on the +flight channel and all of that foo. 
Thanks. :) >>

Lysseth> Above, From the Benden Star Stones, M'nar, on mint green Gelth, 
backwings to a clean landing and settles, replacing Mottled green Avivth, 
bearing her rider Thiva, on watchrider duty.

Sonya sips her klah slowly, turning her attention back to R'val.

Sonya says "So why do you say it's so crowded?"

Benden Weyr> Meli says, "Ooh, good timing, now Gelth can chase too ;)"

C'vadan points to Kassima. "I should say it was Kassima's fine eye that 
found that for you, 'Lys. I was just a J'onny-come-lately."

Kassima nods again, still looking rather embarrassed by the show of 
emotion from the Wingsecond. "Wanted something that'd remind you of home 
while you were away, and this seemed best," she explains with another 
somewhat helpless shrug.

Asrai polishes off her wine, pouring herself yet another glass.

K'ti frowns a little and looks towards the two, "Away?" she asks.

R'val grins at Sonya, "So Sonya. How's T'bin?"

Alyssa sits down near the glass and pewter item and sighs, turning it over 
in her fingers with utmost care. "I can't believe you all did th...thank 
me, Meli?"

Sonya's smile broadens. "He's doing great. He's on sweeps right now. How 
about your weyrmate, R'val?"

R'val blinks at Sonya, "What weyrmate?" His face falls, "Tinya and I have 
gone our seperate ways, permanently."

Kassima explains shortly, expression darkening again, "Alyssa's going to 
Igen." Leaning back in her chair, she reaches for another block of wood... 
and finds none. "Where'd I put the rest of the bloody things?" she demands 
under her breath, eyes scanning the table for any trace of her missing 
block.

Meli nods. "Course, 'lys. Thank you f'bein' such a good friend, an' 
excellent dragonhealer, an' occasional midwife s'well." Glancing at the 
others, she concludes, "Right?"

K'ti blinks once then asks, "s'it permanent?"

Sonya ohs and pats R'val's hand. "I'm sorry. I hadn't heard." she hasn't 
heard any gossip lately, it's called being a weyrsecond that is hidebound.

Asrai nods in agreement with Meli, "Most assuredly."

Dragon> Flight sense that Lysseth taps her number two pencil against the 
lectern. << Testing, testing... okay, good. Who's here for the 
flight? :) >>

T'fian walks here from the Inner Cavern.

R'val smiles at Sonya gently, "It's ok. I manage."

Asrai looks around, then under the table, "Is it in your sack, Kassi? 
Perhaps you just brought the one...and its in the fire, err, was in the 
fire."

Dragon> Flight sense that Pryth is here, is here!

Dragon> Flight sense that Meroth is here.

Dragon> Flight sense that Dulath is here of course, Lovely Lysseth.

Dragon> Flight sense that Adonith waves his wing, timidly. Out of 
practicey.

Dragon> Flight sense that Juliath is cheerleading from the sidelines.

Dragon> Flight sense that Meroth sticks his tongue out at Adonith. Timid? 
The flying ego?

Kassima nods, rather absently. "Aye, a'course 'tis so... nay, Asrai. All 
m'sacks had in 'em were dead fish and stained glass respectively. Shardit, 
where *is* the blasted thing!" Starting to lose her temper, plainly, Kassi 
slams her knife into the table--right on the spot where two other such 
incidents have already made marks--and goes off in search for something to 
chop at. "Fardling, sharded, thrice-cursed, Faranth-foresaken wood, when I 
get m'hands on you, I swear...." It's probably for the best that the rest 
is inaudible.

Makeda fades into a corner near the kitchen hoping to avoid the irate 
greenrider.

Dragon> Flight sense that Lysseth dragongrins. << Okay, great. :) Go ahead 
and start blooding if you like; for those who don't already know, the 
feeding grounds are through the South Bowl, and then FG from either the 
air or the ground. I'll join y'all fairly shortly. >>

Alyssa thanks everyone again, quietly, and smiles at T'fian as he 
reappears. "T'fian, look. Look what they gave me for my Turnday."

Dragon> Flight sense that Adonith's typist is, then. :P :>

T'fian walks back in just in time to see Kassima slam her knife onto the 
table. He opens his mouth to reply to Alyssa, then suddenly stops. 
"They're blooding," he says.

Lysseth> Meroth takes flight, using the thermals rising from the bowl to 
carry him aloft.

Lysseth> Above, Meroth flies towards the south end of the bowl.

Asrai blinks, then her violet eyes go wide as Kassi continues the tirade. 
Figuring that the moment must be close at hand, she downs what was left of 
her wine. Wiping her mouth she swallows almost audibly.

Benden Bowl> Above, Meroth flies downward towards the feeding grounds.

Lysseth> Cygnith takes flight, using the thermals rising from the bowl to 
carry him aloft.

Lysseth> Above, Cygnith flies towards the south end of the bowl.

Lysseth> Dulath takes flight, using the thermals rising from the bowl to 
carry him aloft.

"About fardling time," can be heard from the corner where Kassi's rooting 
around for a block of wood. "Sharded green *took* long enough about it 
this time."

Lysseth> Above, Dulath flies towards the south end of the bowl.

Lysseth> Adonith takes flight, using the thermals rising from the bowl to 
carry him aloft.

Benden Bowl> Above, Cygnith flies downward towards the feeding grounds.

R'val glances outside in sudden alarm, "Oh no." he says, inaudibly.

C'vadan blinks. "'Lys, aren't we leaving now?" he asks, sounding 
desperate.

Salless nods at Meli as she orders something.

Benden Bowl> Above, Dulath flies downward towards the feeding grounds.

Salless unlocks the wine cabinet to pour Meli a single goblet of Benden 
Red.

Ofira glances up from her notes, looks around the room and then drops her 
eyes.

Asrai's eyes also go to the bowl, she looks at C'vadan sympathetically.

Sonya finishes her klah. "So how's it feel to be without a weyrmate? And 
not be tied down."

Benden Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Meroth circles lazily over the 
feeding grounds, thoroughly panicking the herdbeasts below. Suddenly, 
without warning, he folds his wings and drops onto one of the poor 
bovines, ripping the creature's neck open with a quick slash of a talon. 
He lowers his muzzle and greedily laps at the fountaining lifeblood, 
making mewling noises.

R'val frowns, "When a green rises, it feels /very/ frustrating, Sonya." 
He glances outside moodily.

Meli connects with her lifemate a moment, then sighs. "She doesn't seem 
t'be affected. Guess I c'n stay here an' wait it out, neh?"

Alyssa blinks as a moment of confusion sets in. "W-what?" she stammers to 
C'vadan.

Ofira gives one more glance, this time at R'val and Sonya and then turns 
to Makeda, "I think you ought to go get started in the kitchen, 
apprentice," sending the girl out of the room.

Lysseth> Pryth lumbers south.

Lysseth> Above, Adonith flies towards the south end of the bowl.

Benden Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Dulath lands quickly, then sweeps the 
legs out from under an interesting looking buck that runs by. Taking the 
struggling beast into its maw, he bites into it and sucks the hot blood 
from the beast.

Lysseth> Vidarth looks at the entrance to the living cavern and rumbles in 
a most dissatisfied tone.

Benden Bowl> Pryth springs into the air for a quick flight over the fence 
and into the feeding grounds, where he settles again.

Makeda takes on look around the cavern and gulps. With a quick nod to 
Ofira she flees for the kitchen.

Makeda walks off towards the kitchen.

K'ti slips off her chair and heads right out into the bowl. "Time, I 
think, t'see about visiting south...."

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

Sonya stands quickly. "Pryth!" she hollars, unaware it was aloud. She 
turns to R'val. "Shards," is all she says.

Benden Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Cygnith circles tightly, then with a 
sharp angling and quick mind he selects his victim. As he lands on the 
herdbeast's back there is a loud *CRACK*. with sharp talons he splits the 
belly open. Warm tendrils of air curl around cygnith's muzzle as he dips 
it in to blood.

C'vadan sighs. "Shards and fardles!"

R'val sighs, "No Vidarth. Not tonight," he says, quite firmly, his 
expression resolute.

Lysseth> K'ti steps up on Jaralth's foreleg and swings up with a small 
leap to settle between two neckridges. Jaralth turns his head to look at 
K'ti with a small croon.

Ofira gets up to follow Makeda, not needing to stay to watch the room 
empty and the effect on her friends.

Ofira walks off towards the kitchen.

Kassima continues rummaging around for wood, blithely oblivious--or, at 
least, pretending to be so. "Ah, here 'tis," she exclaims, holding up a 
block of wood as though it were the Holy Grail. She then chucks it over 
her shoulder and heads Bowl-wards, pausing only long enough to pluck her 
knife from the table.

You walk down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.

Benden LC> Alyssa looks down with alarm at her sculpture, then toward the 
bowl. "No, Adonith...please...."

Benden LC> C'vadan puts his head into his hands. "'Lys... I thought we 
would be gone by now."

Benden Bowl> Above, Adonith flies downward towards the feeding grounds.

Benden Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Pryth lands with a happy bugle. His 
happiness soon turns to hungar as he brings down a herdbeast, killing it 
quickly. He lowers his muzzel to lap at the warm, flowing blood.

Benden LC> Alyssa turns to look blankly at C'vadan, nodding without 
seeing.

Jaralth turns and looks over towards the beasts and crew. His rider shakes 
her head and says, "No... n'way. N'this time, heart. Off t'southern bowl 
wi'ya."

Benden LC> Sonya heads for the bowl, shakeing her head.

Sonya comes out of the short tunnel from the living cavern.

Benden LC> From the kitchen, Ofira says briskly to Makeda, over the noise 
in the living cavern. "Now...the cream please.."

Jaralth takes flight, using the thermals rising from the bowl to carry him 
aloft.

Benden LC> Asrai's eyes glaze over, her tongue darting out to lick her 
lips as she quickly follows.

Asrai comes out of the short tunnel from the living cavern.

Benden Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Meroth has quickly drained his first 
unfortunate victim and lifts his muzzle skyward to bugle, the sound 
echoing off the bowl walls. Then he's aloft again, the creaking of his 
wings loud in the ears of the panicked herdbeast. Suddenly, a second one 
falls, and is enfolding in the pale blue wings. Meroth lowers his face 
down, but only the sounds of the herdbeast's fading screaming and a 
horrifying lapping is heard from the tent of the pale blue's wings.

T'fian comes out of the short tunnel from the living cavern.

Kassima puts her hands on her hips as she stalks up to Lysseth, giving the 
green the Eye. "Let's get this over with, lump, shall we? C'mon. Move it." 
The green, irritated by her rider's grumbling, climbs to her feet and 
*roars* in Kassi's face before launching up into the skies!

Lysseth spreads her wings to their full extent, bringing them down with a 
rush of wind as she leaps nimbly into the air.

Lysseth takes flight, using the thermals rising from the bowl to carry her 
aloft.

Benden LC> C'vadan follows everyone else.

Lysseth> You fly towards the south end of the bowl.

C'vadan comes out of the short tunnel from the living cavern.

Benden LC> From the kitchen, Makeda nods and stammers to Ofira, "W-what's 
going on out there?" There's a touch of hysterics in her voice.

Lysseth> You fly downwards towards the feeding grounds.

Sonya strides out, lost in the unfamilar bowl. She nearlly runs into a 
bluerider who is stareing after Kassima.

Benden LC> Alyssa turns toward Meli and stammers, "Can you...um...look 
after this for me? Please? Please?"

Benden LC> From the kitchen, Ofira says calmly, "Kassima's Lysseth is 
finally rising, and all the blue and brown riders are going out now, while 
their dragons chase her. The cream?" she urges gently.

Benden LC> Meli nods, taking the gift very carefully.

Benden LC> From the kitchen, Makeda heads towards the storage cavern and 
disappears inside.

Lysseth> Dulath pounces eagerly on the next beast, crushing its skull in 
its claws and then lifting the squirming beast up to his bloodied muzzle. 
The brown sucks the lifesblood from the twitching bovine.

Benden LC> R'val walks off towards the kitchen.

Lysseth> Lysseth circles over the Feeding Grounds for a moment, taking 
stock of the animals there... both dragon, and food. The latter is 
apparently more to her interests, as she folds her wings to dive at a 
wind-shearing speed towards a hapless bovine too frightened to run. 
*Crack* goes the delicate spine as it shatters with the force of the hit, 
and Lysseth fastens her teeth on its throat greedily.

Lysseth> Meroth looks up, regarding the arrival of the glowing green with 
violently whirling eyes of violet. He croons to her, a shaky, lust-filled 
sound that sounds more like a growl than anything else.

Lysseth> Adonith lands amidst the chaos of the feeding grounds directly 
atop a fleeing wherry and snaps its neck before he even lands on the 
ground. Bugling, he drags the poor creature off to one side to begin 
blooding, his red-tinged gaze never leaving Lysseth's lissome hide.

Benden LC> Alyssa thanks Meli and hurries out, mumbling to herself.

Alyssa comes out of the short tunnel from the living cavern.

Lysseth> Cygnith lifts his tapered muzzle to the sky, entrails sticking 
out between his sharp fangs as his *BUGLE* joins the other male's. Like 
the first, he quickly chooses the next victim, this time ensnaring the 
neck with his mouth. A sharp twist of his neck and another *CRACK* is 
heard. This time he goes not for the hot entrails, but straight for the 
jugular, letting the blood of the beast warm his own. Violet sparks flash 
through his whirling eyes.

Kassima looks singularly unimpressed with her lifemate's defiance, and 
simply glares at the green even from this distance. "Blood," she snaps, 
just loud enough to be heard. "Blood it, shardit. Don't play these games."

Lysseth> Dulath tosses aside the spent carcass and bounces away from the 
others. He rises up onto his haunches and spreads his long, graceful wings 
in prepraration to take to the air after Lysseth.

T'fian is standing next to the tunnel which leads to the bowl entrance, 
looking vaguely southward. He turns to see Alyssa step out of the tunnel, 
alerted more by her presence than anything else. "Uhm," he says softly to 
the other bluerider.

Lysseth> Lysseth lifts her head to scream a shrill, defiant cry in her 
rider's direction, but after viciously ripping the spine out of the 
beast's body, does settle to drink the sweet, steaming blood. The dry 
carcass is soon kicked aside and abandoned, and Lysseth is aloft again, 
flying only a short distance above the heads of the other dragons in her 
quest for another suitable victim.

Asrai's sways slightly as Cygnith takes his second kill. Tongue darts out 
to lick lips as if she can taste the blood her lifemate thrills in.

Lysseth> Pryth tosses aside the carcass as soon as it is drained. His eyes 
lift to watch the beautiful green but only for a minute, his hunger is 
still controlling. He looks around and with a snap of his tail, brings 
down a small buck. But before he can get to his kill, it is picked up by 
an arriveing Benden Brown. He roars his frustration, lashing out at the 
first thing that moves near him, a big fat wherry. He brings it down, 
tearing open it's throat savagely, hungrily.

Dragon> Juliath bespoke Flight with << Spine? Eww. >>

Alyssa takes her place beside T'fian, fingers clenching and unclenching; 
nervousness speckles red on her pale features. "Why tonight...? Why 
tonight?"

T'fian whispers softly, with an ironic smile, "Happy turnday."

C'vadan stands away from everyone, feeling terribly exposed at this 
moment. He curses everything Faranth finds muckworthy about not being at 
Igen or Keroon right now.

Sonya stands where Pryth has landed when they first arrived. She is 
mumbling curses under her breath, but even she knows, she is stuck here, 
no matter what the outcome.

Lysseth> Cygnith tosses aside the carcus of his second kill, nearly 
hitting another Blue. His violently purple eyes follow Lysseth as she 
circles overhead. A low croon of promise echos out from his throat as the 
blood within his belly gives strength to his body. The heat of passion 
within him searing through his viens.

Lysseth> Lysseth now fastens her teeth deep into the throat of a bovine 
who has died rather messily by a lash of the green's whiplike tail; by the 
time she's finished, her hide is more radiant than ever, so green that she 
truly glows. With a single, mocking, taunting cry to the unworthy ones who 
wait, she springs, and is away.

Lysseth> You spring into the air and catch the thermals rising from the 
bowl floor to carry you aloft -- much to the relief of the wherries.

Blinking, Alyssa smiles briefly at T'fian and squeezes his hand before 
her thoughts turn away from her Turnday and the tall Weyrsecond to 
concentrate on controlling her lifemate.

Lysseth> Dulath rises up from the feeding grounds.

Lysseth> Adonith rises up from the feeding grounds.

Lysseth> Meroth rises up from the feeding grounds.

Asrai swallows, running one hand through her hair as her eyes lock on 
Kassi's lithe form. Her eyes smoldering with the same color that can be 
seen in the many fassited eyes of her lifemate.

Dragon> Lysseth bespoke Flight with << Okay, ground rules, folks: We'll be 
going up two skyspaces to save on groundspam. One dragon pose per Lyss 
pose, please--no line limit. No limit on rider poses, either, so long as 
they're not horrendously long. And most importantly, have fun. :) >>

Lysseth> You soar upwards and into the open sky above the Weyr.

Dragon> Flight sense that Adonith woowoowoo

Lysseth> Adonith flies up from the southern half of the bowl.

C'vadan watches his lifemate fly after Lysseth.

Lysseth> Meroth flies up from the southern half of the bowl.

Lysseth> Dulath flies up from the southern half of the bowl.

Kassima whirls on her heel the very second that Lysseth's aloft, storming 
towards the Guest Weyr without a word.

You push aside the curtain and enter the weyr.

T'fian comes into the weyr from the bowl.

C'vadan comes into the weyr from the bowl.

Lysseth> Pryth flies up from the southern half of the bowl.

Alyssa comes into the weyr from the bowl.

Alyssa moves with utter and uncharacteristic lack of grace to the guest 
weyr and collapses in the corner, back to the wall, heels of her hands 
pressed against her eyes.

C'vadan strides in like a man who is very angry with the world right now. 
He finds a place as *far* away from Kassima as possible, trying very hard 
to reconcile his contending emotions. He can only urge on his lifemate, 
yet...

T'fian steps into the guest weyr, looking torn for a moment. But dragons 
needs overwhelm the rider and he leans up against the wall, no longer 
noticing Alyssa, brown eyes on Kassima, just as his dragon's violet ones 
are on Lysseth.

Lysseth> Cygnith flies up from the southern half of the bowl.

Sonya comes into the weyr from the bowl.

Asrai comes into the weyr from the bowl.

Lysseth> Lysseth takes to the sky like a rocket, leaving a trail of green 
luminescence in her wake; her wings are extended to shear through the 
clouds and rain, ignoring both in favor of newfound freedom. Her bugle 
now is tinged with joy, but turns to a hiss of disdain as she turns her 
head to regard the pursuers; ah, well. She needn't waste any attention on 
*them*, save that they are the reason that she must flee, and fly as fast 
as the winds can possibly carry her.

Lysseth> Pryth raises up quickly after the green. He is caught by he 
sudden launch upwards and finds himself at the rear of the pack. And 
flying unfamliar thermals.

Kassima takes 'her' spot in the Weyr, leaning with seeming nonchalance 
against a section of the wall and dripping rainwater all over the floor. 
Not that she notices that, or much of anything else, since she's already 
so connected mentally to her lifemate that all else is inconsequential.

Lysseth> Cygnith's compact body cuts through the clouds with ease, 
tendrils of mist curling up around his wake as he slices through. the 
speed of his flight causing the rain to sheer off his glistening hide. 
The stars on his back sparkling with a life of their own as he makes 
chase.

Lysseth> Violent-touched azure wings spread full out, shimmering in the 
rain-spattered evening, Adonith rises after Lysseth with a deft mixture 
of speed and conservation of energy. She is known to him...the bowl is 
known to him. Thermals are under his wingsail's transluscent membranes 
when he commands, winds carry him aloft with minimal effort. As usual, the 
other males are soon forgotten in the chase, and Lysseth's joyous bugle 
sends his hearts to pounding for her and her alone.

Lysseth> Meroth is further down the pack, near the Istan blue, but rapidly 
flying forward, rain pounding against his pale blue hide, hampering the 
small blue's flight, but only slightly. Wings strengthened from many turns 
of leading a wing of larger dragons beat relentlessly, driving Meroth 
forward as he darts agily between his rivals.

Lysseth> Dulath looks like a streambed overflowing its banks, as the 
droplets of water flow off his muddy brown wings. He rises high above the 
rest of the pack, wanting space to watch and stalk the most glorious of 
greens, the lovely Lysseth. Leveling off, he glides upon a gentle thermal, 
not quite keeping pace, but keeping the wily green within sight. There is 
no better trophy to pluck from the Benden skies than Lysseth.

Sonya walks in behind a huge group of riders. She weeds her through to 
reach a viewing spot of Kassima. She shakes her head, droplets of 
rainwater spraying from her hair. She keeps herself under control, not 
completly with her lifemate, so she can look around the room.
Asrai come sinto the weyr, almost the last one inside. Rain drips from her 
clothes and hair, droplets glittering on her lashes in the light of the 
glows. she steps apart from the others, one hip slightly out in a most 
provocative manor as she rests easily against another protion of wall.

Lysseth> Lysseth chooses no particular direction at this time. Rather, she 
allows her flight-path to be as random as that of an insect; she dips, 
zig-zags, and rides a thermal upward in turn, revelling in her enjoyment 
of boundless energy and no restraint. However, a thought still nags at her 
mind... there is a point to this, after all. So without further ado, she 
veers sharply in the skies, headed towards the Star Stones like a glowing 
piece of radioactive iron drawn irresistably towards a magnet.

C'vadan sits down crosslegged against the wall. He pulls off his jacket, 
preparing for the oppressive heat that will be generated from so many 
charged bodies in sao small a space. His dark eyes refocus and lock on 
Kassima's pleasant form. He shakes his head, trying to clear those 
thoughts from his mind. "Fly, Duly. Fly!"

Lysseth> Meroth watches the pointless acrobatics of the green with his 
whirling purple eyes. She flies well, but she is not strong enough to 
keep away from him forever. As Lysseth veers, Meroth banks, his wings 
coming close to clipping a nearby blue's, turning abruptly after the 
glowing green, towards the Star Stones.

Lysseth> Cygnith angles his wingsails so that he catches the thermal he 
knew was waiting for him. Upward he soars, he is the wind, he is the night 
incarnate and Lysseth is his goal. with a single mindedness that cut off 
everything else, he soars after her, letting the thermals do the work for 
him as he climbs higher.

Kassima folds her arms, tilting her head back to stare at the ceiling... 
well, she would be staring at the ceiling, if her eyes were open. The sky 
is where her attention is, but she doesn't need to see it through her own 
eyes--she has Lysseth's.

Lysseth> Dulath releases a small warble of glee as he was prepared for 
Lysseth to head for the Star Stones. Unique to herself, she still favors 
a pattern or trick that many a green has tried to separate herself from 
the chaff of the field. But he isn't complacient with his good fortune. He 
knows Lysseth has something up her proverbial sleeve and he has to be 
ready to react on a wingtip.

Lysseth> Adonith tips his left wing downward and, body changing course 
with alacrity and ease, he swerves in the direction of the Star Stones. 
Once righted from his perilously tilted flight, he digs deeply with his 
wings into the rain-soaked Benden sky to pursue the fleeing form of 
Lysseth. A deep, deep breath expands his high, sinewy chest, then, with a 
bliss to match the joy she so recently displayed, he releases a single 
trumpet of challenge to her. It is the brassy call of draconic amour, the 
signal to her that he is there, waiting for her to falter, waiting for her 
to submit.

Asrai's hand comes to rest on her hips, curvascious despite her small 
size. There is a heat in her eyes rarely seen in the normally shy girl. 
But she is one with her lifemate, one with his quest towards fullfillment.

Lysseth> Pryth soons settles into a pattern, learning to predict the 
thermals and air curents fairly well. He is in it to win, all the way and 
no rain or wind will stop him. *whoosh* he catches a thermal and rises 
upwards quickly, above all the males who were surrounding him. But he 
still gains no distance. As Lysseth shows off, so does he, alittle. He 
spins in the air, turning on wingtip and showing the Benden dragons what 
Istan dragons are made of. But as Lyseeth relizes that she must be going 
somewhere, so does he. He follows after her, still not flying a straight 
line.

Lysseth> Lysseth folds her wings to lower the air resistance, using every 
trick she knows to drive her on--surprise, surprise--a straight-line 
course for the Star Stones, without any of her characteristic aerobatics. 
What could she have in mind? That soon becomes clear, as she reaches the 
Stones themselves--she surely must intend to throw herself on these rocks, 
to die gloriously in the name of the wish to forever be free. But no! For, 
as she reaches them, she twists sharply to turn straight up so closely 
that her nails narrowly miss scraping along the aged stones, causing the 
Watchrider pair on duty to bugle with alarm. Rain sheets from her 
streamlined form to fall like a miniature storm behind her as she arrows 
upwards, ever upwards.

Sonya leans against the wall, shakeing her head as she watches the flight 
through Pryth's eyes. She shakes her head to focus, once again scanning 
the room.

Alyssa is not looking at Kassima or T'fian or anyone else in the guest 
weyr; eyes still screwed shut, she is tensed and aloft with her blue; only 
her body, her spirit's insignificant vessel, remains in the weyr. To her, 
she is awing with Adonith, sharing with him the unique delight of flight.

C'vadan's breaths become a little more ragged as he _tries_ to calm the 
excitement of his brown lifemate's flying and chase. Licking his lips, for 
they have become dessert-like dry, he clears his parched throat. This 
isn't Igen, why does he feel like something the carrion beasts are 
preparing to descend upon. He swallows again as he refocuses his eyes on 
the ceiling above Kassima.

Dragon> Flight sense that Lysseth sorries for the delay in that pose. 
Phone call that no one else would answer. :P

Lysseth> Pryth gets closer to closer to the star stones now. But as he 
watches Lysseth come within a handspan of the rocks, he choses not to. He 
keeps his same altitude but veers towards the left, still quite a distance 
behind the freedom bound green. He is putting heart and sole into this 
chase, for the Benden green's hearts will be won by another tonight.

Lysseth> Cygnith delights in the height, angling slightly to the right to 
catch the thermal his instincts tell him is there. The wind from the 
recent harsh wether still linger as they buffet him. But Cygnith is sharp, 
and he loves this wether. Banking ever so slightly back to the left he 
shoots upwards as his wingsails catch the wind. what might have been a 
disaster is turned to his advantage as he is off like cupid's arrow after 
the glorious Lysseth.

Lysseth> Meroth doggedly pursues Lysseth, as is his style in flights. What 
she does, is what he does. Which means that he nearly goes careening 
straight first into the bowl wall. But while the beautiful glowing green 
banked nearly straight upward, Meroth's pale wings break their rhythm, 
looking almost to stutter, in his surprise. This sudden drop in forward 
momentum allows the blue to bank, sharply to his left, right wing tip 
coming within but a few foot of the bowl wall. He looses precious time and 
distance with this turn and beats his way upward, fighting wind and the 
annoying pouding rain and growing fatigue.

Asrai's breath comes shallow and fast as the chase goes on, raising her 
own lust. Her glazed eyes tell the story of one solidly linked to her 
lifemate. One with his hopes, fears, successess, and desires.

Dragon> Dulath bespoke Flight with << No worries, Lysseth :) >>

Lysseth> Adonith would laugh if dragons in mating flights were given to 
such trivialities. Pleased, pleased as can be by Lysseth's aeronautic 
acrobatics, he follows her path precisely, nearly to the fingerlength, and 
sends poor Gelth flapping in distress. Unbridled ecstasy rings in his 
every wingstroke, in the steady thrumming of his hearts, in the sounds of 
his lyrical calls to Lysseth, who is near enough to tantalize him with her 
very scent. For this is what brings selfish and thoughtless pleasure to 
this Benden blue, this rare opportunity to demonstrate his finesse in 
flight, his speed, his skill. And Lysseth, the pine princess for whom he 
longs, is the perfect recipient of his best in flight.

T'fian suddenly breathes in an a loud exhale. No. He really didn't think 
he was about to dive facefirst into the bowl wall. Or rather, his 
dragon... well, there's no real difference is there?

"No good, no good," Alyssa whispers. "Steady..no showing off...relax, my 
love...no...caution..."

Lysseth> Lysseth, more aware now of those behind her, indulges in another 
mocking bugle down to them before flipping on a wing to suddenly twist in 
midair. Flying right side up now, and back the way she came, she still 
ascends towards the clouds... perhaps hoping that the rain will cease 
beyond them, cease to distract her from her glory and make her once more 
aware of earthly things. Fire and water are her blood, and she is as 
mortal as any earth-born creature--the air is that with which she dallies 
now, a true dragon of all four of the elements. Extending her wings, she 
ascends farther than sensibility would have her dare to go in the 
direction of moons and stars.

Lysseth> Dulath having erred in his guess of where Lysseth would emerge 
from her aerobatics, finds himself nowhere near the pack or Lysseth 
herself. Bugling in frustration, he works his wings doubletime, it being 
difficult to tell if the rain is beating against his wings or his wings 
are beating the rain away. In any event, the powerful brown makes up the 
distance in record time, his wing-gait much like that of thoroughbred 
runner rounding the last turn and having that final straightaway. But in 
this case, the finishline continues to move in the winsome form of 
Lysseth.

Lysseth> Head lifting from his level flight to follow Lysseth's ascension, 
Adonith restrains himself and, with a low rumble that might be considered 
a chuckle, he bears himself upward but without the sharp angle of the 
piney green's rise. Such a desperate change in altitude might keep him 
close to his quarry, but his wings, already dragging from the water and 
the effort of his bursts of speed, would likely fail from fatigue. So 
under her he sails, under and upward, his intent to mirror her course from 
a lower and less dangerous angle for, after all, what goes up must come 
down.

Kassima grins suddenly, though there's no amusment in the expression save 
of the sardonic kind. Still her dragon, she shares in Lysseth's arrogant 
enjoyment of dodging the unworthy chasers.

Lysseth> Cygnith uses the air currents off the bowl wall to aid him. Using 
his momentum he ricochet's across the wall's surface, speeding back and up 
towards the glowing Green becon of his desires. If she wishes to go to the 
stars, then he will follow her there, he will follow her anywhere. The 
stars on his hide sparkle with greater intensity as the air thins, 
bringing them closer to the objects they represent. Fire burns in his 
heart, lending strength to his wings.

Lysseth> Meroth ascends as Lysseth does, though not a sharply, not wishing 
to fight so hard against the rain to gain the same altitude as green. So 
he flies, several dragonlengths behind and well below Lysseth, the driving 
force of his wings propelling him onward to close the horizontal distance 
between him and green. He ignores the fire beginning to burn in his chest 
and the tightness of the wingshoulders, certain that she will come back to 
him.

Lysseth> Pryth continues his race after his only hearts desire, well for 
the moment, Lysseth. No sound escapes from his muzzle as all his energy is 
being consevered for the chase. His eyes whirl faster as he passes a 
Benden Brown, comeing ever so closer to his goal. But the unfamilalarity 
of Beden is used against him and he hits an air pocket, falling several 
dragonlengths before snapping his wings back open to catch himself. But 
nevertheless, he continues the chase, working diligently.

C'vadan rubs his brows and eyes with his hands, his skin tingling from the 
flight and the nearness of Kassima. He swallows again, no liquid to 
lubricate his throat. "Go, Duly," he croaks softly, urging his brown 
lifemate on.

Asrai gasps as she feels through her dragon bond the bowl's wall right 
beneath her. It is a throaty gasp, one caught deep in her throat. The hand 
on her hip splays out over her thigh before sliding back up to rest. "Yes 
dear, risk everything for love." Are her quiet, husky words.

Lysseth> Lysseth continues to beat her wings strongly, seeking the 
skies... but the rain and the winds are taking their toll, until it 
becomes too much a drain on her strength to maintain altitude. So again, 
she uses a manuever that's served her well in Turns past, and folds her 
wings to fall like a glowing green meteor towards the bowl below. There 
seems to be nothing controlled about the move; she is one very sure of 
herself, apparently, for she makes no attempt at all to break her fall. 
She simply enjoys the speed that it lends her, a fiery comet of silver 
and pine seeking the embrace of the barren rock below.

Sonya stays motionless, her eyes closed as she is completly with Pryth now 
up in the air. She murmurs softly. "No..." as she feels her dragon 
desecnding. She sighs as Pryth starts to slowly ascende again. "Hurry, 
she'll tire soon...."

Lysseth> Meroth lets out a bugle, his eyes watching the glowing form 
diving down. Yes, she does come back down to him. With a sudden surge, he 
drives upward, upward to greet Lysseth, to halt her dive in the embrace of 
his wings and intertwining tail.

Dragon> Flight sense that Lysseth passes out Patented Server Smashers <tm> 
to all of those suffering 'Net difficulties.

Lysseth> Cygnith notes the glowing meteor plummetting to the ground before 
him. But he is a knife, not a rock, hence he turns on his wing until he is 
once more parellel with the wall. Slicing through the air his left wingtip 
leading, he cuts downwards behind his desire. Delighting in the speed and 
the feel of the wind caressing his wingsails, he makes sure to stay above 
her, ready to cut off the fall at a moment's notice.

Lysseth> Dulath drops like a streambed stone. But unlike the smaller 
dragons, he needs to brake much sooner because of his greater bulk of 
musculature. But he waits. And waits. Even the strongest of dragons 
wouldn't dare this, but he knows he must because there is Lysseth at the 
end. Timing it to the barest milimeter, his wings fling open and the wind 
and rain whistle as he pulls up to a level flight so much closer to 
Lysseth. He bugles at her, meeting her challenge.

Dragon> Flight sense that Pryth takes on gratefully and beats up on his 
players server.

Lysseth> Adonith seems amused as much as impassioned this evening, for 
Lysseth's downward turn causes him to bugle again, a decided touch of 
humour to his silvery sound. Changing the direction of his flight like a 
captain making minor corrections to his ship's tack, he angles himself 
toward Lysseth's dive so that he may....cushion her fall. Yes, that's it. 
Gentleman he is, he wishes merely to ensure she does not crash. Embracing 
her with his wings will of course be the best manner in which to 
accomplish that.

Asrai chuckles deep in her throat, a very different sound then her 
normally girlish giggle.

Dragon> Flight sense that Dulath sighs and looks at all the plugs he 
kicked out of their sockets. << Drat! They came back ;) >>

Lysseth> Be it like a light from above shining down on this poor Istan 
blue. As he struggles to gain altitude, down goes his goal. He races 
forward, trying to close the distance between them, the altitude almost 
the same already.

Dragon> Vidarth bespoke Flight with << Cheater ;) >>

T'fian smiles, his eyes on Kassima. He takes a step away from the wall, 
towards the greenrider.

Lysseth> Lysseth is forced to spin in her downward fall to avoid the 
others, screeching her fury that anything would interrupt--but, no matter. 
She uses the veering spin to veer further, still falling, until she is at 
a diagonal towards the Bowl... wings extended now, to slow her speed. 
Another difficult manuever is displayed as she twists about, using not the 
Bowl floor as a springboard this time, but the wall--sending her shooting 
off on another tangent with a rapid beating of wings that sounds in the 
sky like the beat of a bird's heart: rapid, and almost panicked, for this 
isn't so fun anymore. Lysseth now means business.

C'vadan rocks back from the effort his lifemate is expending to keep from 
being dashed to the bowl and smacks his head against the wall. "Shardit!" 
he curses, then shakes his head. Why is Kassima always what he refocuses 
on.

Kassima's grin dissolves into a puzzled frown, reflecting Lysseth's 
emotions. "How could...?" she whispers hoarsely, shaking her head. The 
return to reality allows her to see for a moment the Guest Weyr rather 
than the sky, and she takes one step back, running right into that wall 
that *always* seems to impede her path.

Lysseth> Pryth is a small and agile blue, but he doesn't have the stamina 
like some. He begins to tire and calls upon hidden reserves of energy to 
help him finish this race. As the green begins to loose speed and ground, 
Pryth somehow gains both on her, despite the troubles he has been haveing 
with Benden air space. He follows close after her, his presence becomeing 
known.

Dragon> Flight sense that Lysseth whaps Dulath with a rubber chicken. 
<< No trying to reduce the competition by playing with their 'Nets. ;) >>

Lysseth> Cygnith sees that now is the time...*SNAP* his wings go out, 
leveling him off above and slightly behind Lysseth. Let the others chase 
her up once more. He will be waiting, ready to blanket her in the night 
that are his wingsails and tail. She must be someone's, she will be his.

Lysseth> Adonith whirls out of Lysseth's way as she riccochets off the 
wall and past him like green lightning, causing him to spin about in his 
own now-wearying flight to give her proper pursuit. She tires too, and, 
being a young and spirited beast, he has plenty of reserve to complete the 
flight. Yet awareness of the other males seeps into the fringes of his 
consciousness, and with that awareness his humourous spin on the evening 
dies. He too grows serious, calculating, cool; party time's over, and the 
piper needs to be paid.

Lysseth> Dulath is mere meters behind the verdant imp of the skies and 
doesn't plan on losing his advantage due to his under-estimating her 
resourcefulness. He matches her wingbeat for wingbeat, a muddy shadow in 
the pounding rain, each time propelling himself centimeter by centimeter 
closer. Again, he bugles as he sees the prize so close, now if he can snag 
the green ring.

Lysseth> Meroth lets out a small note of disappointment as the glowing 
green avoids him, but if at first you don't succeed.... He quickly banks, 
now on the same tangent as Lysseth, behind her. The dive of the green 
seemed, somehow, to lend the pale blue strength, which is now poured into 
his wings. Other dragons, the rain, everything is unimportant except 
overtaking Lysseth and making her his.

Dragon> Flight sense that Dulath smiles abashedly.

Dragon> Meroth bespoke Flight with << Told you it wouldn't work. >>

Dragon> Dulath bespoke Flight with << You told me it worked for you all 
the time, Meroth! >>

Dragon> Flight sense that Meroth grins. And you fell for it. :) Now you 
look bad. Which makes me look better. Not that I needed to trick you into 
making me look better, of course. :)

Dragon> Flight sense that Lysseth heyheyheys, << No corrupting the 
opponents, either! (If there's any corruption to be done around here, I'm 
going to do it! :P :) >>

Dragon> Dulath bespoke Flight with << No one is as corrupting as you are, 
Lysseth. *blink* I mean... oh, shardit. >>

Lysseth> Lysseth has been darting around in the Bowl like a giant green 
pinball, and it doesn't look as though she's going to stop any time soon. 
Once she's reached a sufficient aerial level, she veers again, this time 
passing a mere finger's length over the Bowl wall--so close that stones 
are shifted by her passing to tumble to the waiting earth. Mayhaps this is 
an attempt to scrape off the pursuers? For whatever reason, the green 
begins to dim as she burns up her reserves once the manuever is gone, 
heart and soul determined to stay forever free even if mind is aware that 
she must eventually face the inevitable.

Kassima's fingers clench spasmodically at the rock behind her, the 
scraping sound of fingernails on stone audible in the Cavern. Her eyes 
narrow in silent warning; after all, the game isn't over yet.

Lysseth> Cygnith sees Lysseth coming towards him and makes his move. But 
the wind that was his friend earlier seems to have a different course for 
his fate. At the last moment they lend him speed, too much so as he goes 
speeding past his goal, too far out of the way to recover. Giving a 
heartrenching cry of grief and betrayal he spirals downwards, down to the 
only comfort that will do him any good.

Lysseth> Meroth is blue streak following the green pinball about the ball 
walls, wingbeats drawing him ever nearer the object of his desire, despite 
her bounding turns. He is, though, sufficient distance behind her to see 
her skim the bowl wall to easily correct and avoid drawing as close as she 
did to it (and the falling rocks of course. Hope nobody's walking down 
there on the bowl floor).

Asrai cries out at the same time as her lifemate, turning she stumbles 
from the weyr.

Asrai leaves the weyr and heads out into the bowl.

Lysseth> Cygnith flies downward towards the north end of the bowl.

Lysseth> Dulath wings ever after the flagging green, sensing his chance is 
very near, and knowing that those few males still giving chase are apt to 
figure the same thing. Pacing now seems a better option; let the other 
dragons waste their wind on fruitless maneuvers. He will still have power 
and wings left when the lovely Lysseth will be caught. By him. That mere 
thought energizes him unlike any other thought could at this brief moment 
in time.

T'fian's concentration is broken and he looks after Asrai with a satisfied 
smile before returning his attention on Kassima.

Lysseth> Pryth decides this path can be safe enough to follow and streaks 
after her, his blue wings moveing quickly to give him the speed to bring 
him closer to his prize, his desire, his want and his need.

Dragon> Flight sense that Lysseth gets this image that she just has to 
share, of a Dragonriders of Pern version of Mr. Bill walking alongside the 
Bowl Wall and suddenly getting squished by one of those falling rocks. Oh, 
noooooooo! Anyway, there's my weird thought for the day. :)

Dragon> Flight sense that Dulath laughs. << Great, now I have that image 
in my meager brain. >>

Dragon> Lysseth bespoke Flight with << On the more serious note, after my 
next pose, shall we go ahead and have capture attempts? Posing your 
location as related to Lyss would be nice, but not necessary if you can't 
work it in. >>

Dragon> Flight sense that Ularrith rumblehmms << Does that mean Lysseth is 
Mr. Sluggo? I always knew she was evil but... >>

Lysseth> Lysseth allows herself one last trick now, folding her wings to 
skim over the outside of the Bowl wall much as she did the rim; however, 
the energy required to bank and level her flight rather than die messily 
on the ground taxes her waning reserves considerably. Barely more green 
than any other dragon at this point, her rapid wingbeats take on a tone of 
desperation, as she uses the only recourse available to her: speed, and a 
hope for more stamina than the chasers possess.

Dragon> Flight sense that Lysseth thinks she's that Hand guy. Or maybe 
that's Kassi.

Dragon> Dulath bespoke Flight with << Don't pay attention to the hand 
behind the curtain. >>

Dragon> Flight sense that Aberuth sleepily regards the others from a 
ledge. << Fly well, brown brothers. Brown and green match to 
perfection. >>

Lysseth> Meroth is any other dragon and not green at all. But that doesn't 
mean that Lysseth's not green. He wouldn't be chasing after her if she 
weren't. Sparing his breath, a small rumble of satisfaction escapes him, 
watching her flagging strength. He ignores his own weakness, even though 
the beat of his wings is barely keeping him aloft, and pulls whatever 
reserves he has left to close the distance between his pale blue form and 
her green one.

Kassima bites her lip, hard enough to draw blood as her lifemate's 
weariness communicates itself to her. She wipes hair out of her eyes, 
staring at each of those remaining in the Weyr with considerable 
apprehension for a moment before her mind is again stolen by the airborne 
green.

Lysseth> Dulath spots the tiniest window of opportunity and he's not going 
to let it slam on him. Propelling himslef forward with three tremendous 
windbeats, he places himself just above and to the left of Lysseth, his 
neck, forelimbs and tail reach out to ensnare the flagging green in his 
loving embrace, wanting nothing more than to carry her off into the wet 
Benden night.

Lysseth> Adonith extends his wings to their full length and commences the 
last-minunte sprint for Lysseth's favours. He too is fatigued, he too is 
ready for the derring-do to cease; he offers to her, with his presence, 
with his nearness just above her and behind her, with his final crooning 
call, to bear her with him to the rain-drenched ground below...but slowly. 
Oh, so slowly.

Lysseth> Ah, the trickster has run out of tricks. Pryth won't be fooled by 
that last one and stays doggedly, pardon the expression, behind the green. 
His stamina may be starting to wear thin, but it's his speed that he's 
relying on, just as she is. Comeing up directly behind her, he riases up 
just alittle to get above her and reaches out for her as he trys to pull 
up even with her.

C'vadan rubs the back of his head, the lump starting to form, fed by the 
rushing blood of his energized body. He has tunnelvision, and Kassima is 
the lights coming straight at him.

Sonya pushes hair out of her eyes that isn't there and looks straighr 
ahead. She sees Kassima and smiles evilly. All tricks have been played, 
lets see what your hand holds now.

Alyssa stands, slowly, painfully, hugging herself as she watches Kassima 
with tenseness in her muscles and in her eyes. She is weary, like her 
dragon, but she hungers. Like her dragon.

Dragon> Flight sense that Lysseth takes the envelope containing the 
judges' decision from Mr. Bill, and happens to take his hand as well, 
since for some reason it's rather firmly attached to said envelope. 
<< Before I type out the final pose, I'd just like to say that y'all have 
done excellently, and that it was a fun flight--though that image of Mr. 
Bill getting squashed will haunt me for years, I'm sure. Thanks, all of 
you. :) >>

T'fian pushes himself away from the wall once again, this time sure that 
Kassima's green is losing her strength. He takes a couple of steps closer 
to the Thunderbolt wingsecond, a small, triumphant smile on his face, as 
if Lysseth's already been captured by Meroth. It's only time now, though.

Dragon> Aberuth bespoke Flight with << Oh no, Mr. Bill! >>

Dragon> Flight sense that Dulath does think this was a funfun flight and 
thanks you all. :)

Dragon> Adonith bespoke Flight with << Well done, all. >>

Dragon> Flight sense that Meroth seconds the big, slow, dumb brown. :)

Dragon> Dulath bespoke Flight with << If I didn't respect the aged and 
infirmed so much, Meroth, I'd be likely to respond to that. ;) >>

Dragon> Flight sense that Adonith rolls his eyes.

Dragon> Flight sense that Adonith would roll his Rs, but his tongue's 
forked.

Dragon> Flight sense that Meroth grins at Dulath and has to add, << Of 
course, we're /all/ 'seconds here at Benden. ;) >>

Lysseth> Lysseth screams once as the last of her reserves desert her, 
making each attempt to beat her wings and continue the chase nearly as 
painful as a knife to the heart. She begins to drop... only to be met on 
the way by a thermal, which has no intention of letting her go so easily. 
Isn't that always the way? Buoyed up for a moment by the thermal, her 
second scream of outrage turns to a croon as she slams directly into the 
embrace of brown Dulath.

Dragon> Vidarth bespoke Flight with << So. Who won? ;) >>

Alyssa closes her eyes, mumbles something, and pushes away to head for the 
bowl.

Alyssa leaves the weyr and heads out into the bowl.

Lysseth> Adonith lets out a huge bugle of frustration and descends 
downward for his lifemate, to comfort and receive comfort.

Dragon> Flight sense that Lysseth grins. << Benden Weyr, Wingsecond 
Central... no difference, eh? ;) But again, many thanks! It was a fun 
flight, even though Kassi did pose me as having this weird obsession with 
trying to kill myself on some sort of rocks all through the thing. ;) >>

Dragon> Flight sense that Adonith hugs Lysseth and goes offchannel.:>

T'fian blinks, staring at Kassima, then at C'vadan with an almost comic 
expression of surprise. "What?" he croaks out. "This..." He blinks, then 
turns and follows out after Alyssa.

Lysseth> Dulath does indeed carry Lysseth off high into the rainy night.

T'fian leaves the weyr and heads out into the bowl.

Lysseth> Meroth flies downward towards the north end of the bowl.

Lysseth> Pryth screams in fury as his love is grabbed by another. He flies 
down, heartbroken.

Lysseth> Adonith flies downward towards the north end of the bowl.

Lysseth> Pryth flies downward towards the north end of the bowl.

Sonya leaves the weyr and heads out into the bowl.