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Mind Your Eyebrows


Date:  October 29, 2008
Place:  Igen's Weyrling Training Field
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:  One of these days I'm going to call a flaming lesson log
'This One Goes Out To the One I Love' and be so hopelessly 80s music 
geeky that MTV comes to take me away.  (Fiiiiiiiiiire!  ...Okay, I'll 
stop.)  Lekath and Mobeth chow down on every Weyr's favorite rock.  No
Weyrlings were burned to a crisp in the making of this scene.

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The Log:

H'sen arrives with Lekath from the direction of the lake. They haven't been
swimming, but there has been plenty of quiet things to do, in between
elevator duty and various other errands a weyrling gets sent on. It's
almost like being a candidate again. The two look serious as H'sen snaps
off a salute to the Weyrlingmaster. As the bronze grows, he becomes more
and more business-like when addressing lessons, and that is rubbing off on
his rider.

On this particular occasion there's something other than a Weyrlingmaster
team waiting for the Weyrlings in the center of the field. A very large
pile of broken rocks sits there, all manner of sizes, some about as big as
those balls the Candidates threw at each other--was it over a Turn ago now?
Others are closer to fist-sized. As much of it as they've sacked any
Weyrling would recognize the stuff as firestone. Kassima stands by the
pile, waiting; Lysseth's taken herself a bit off to the side. "G'day,
Weyrlings," she greets, returning the salutes of H'sen and M'dras who's
just come in from the Barracks with Ubevanth.

Ch'ton walks into the Training Field with Mobeth, pouring a bit of oil out
of a vial into his palm. "Yeah, yeah. I'm gettin' it." he says, pretending
to be exasperated as he rubs oil on an itchy patch of skin. "Better? Good."
he pats the place and returns the vial to his pocket, wiping his hand on a
pant leg. He gives a salute to the weyrling master, and grins. "OoH!
Firestone! Are we tossing it around?"

H'sen looks over at the rocks and sighs softly. They have been doing a lot
of unpleasant things with firestone these days, and it's hard to imagine
they might eb doing something different today. Lekath sniffs in the
direction of the piles of 'stone, apparently having a greater appreciation
for the smell of the stuff than most humans do.

"Nay today, Ch'ton. If'n I catch you *tossing* it into your dragons'
mouths, 'twill have your hides for a new pair of pants. You aren't
experienced enough for that." Kassima's eyes gleam green--would she tease a
Weyrling? Yes. Absolutely she would. She picks up one of the smaller pieces
of yellowish rock and bounces it in her hand. "Firestone: Miners dig it up
for the Weyrs, they bring it here in large pieces we oft break down--the
good stuff breaks easy. Softer, 'tis. Tell me, H'sen, is it better for
firestone t'be more yellow or more grey?"

Ch'ton oooohs. "AH! We're /flaming!/" and Mobeth perks up, excited now.
Excitement pratically /rolling/ from the blue's mind. "So, what are we
flaming? Grass? Rope thread?" he's bouncing on the balls of his feet. He
almost misses the question. "OH! Oh! OH!"

H'sen scratches his head at the question, trying not to look as puzzled as
he feels as he tries to think of the answer. He probably fails. "The yellow
ones are better?" he guesses. "They're the softer ones, aren't they? Easier
to break. Faranth knows we've broken up enough sacksworth of the stuff."

Ch'ton coughs. "Grughsillicacontentgruh"

Kassima doesn't quite snap, "Ch'ton, settle down! This is still a class.
Calm yourself a bit and convince me you won't set the whole sharding Weyr
on fire if'n I teach you how t'use this." She points the piece of stone at
him: she's serious about this. "The yellow's better, aye. They contain more
phosphene gas, less ore, and they have more little bubbles in 'em too. The
gas is what lets dragons breathe flame. A'course, a dragon can't chew just
any size of stone. Come up here," she beckons all three of them, M'dras
too. "Pick out stones you think are the right size for your dragons
t'handle. Every piece in here is the right size for *somebody*."

Ch'ton stops bouncing. "Sorry." he mumbles. He walks up, quite composed, to
the pile of firestone. He selects several medium sized ones and peers
between the stones and Mobeth's mouth. "I assume that the rocks need to fit
in their mouths comfortably, yet not be so small that they're ineffective."

H'sen isn't the best at memorizing stuff from hides, but he's pretty good
at figuring things out from a practical side. "How does the gas get turned
into stone?" he asks, even as he follows the Weyrlingmaster's instructions
and goes to pick out some good rocks. He holds up a couple medium-sized
rocks to compare them to Lekath's mouth. Lekath looks skeptical at this
method, but H'sen selects the ones he thinks will work best.

Kassima tells Ch'ton more gently when he's approached the pile,
"Excitement's good, but this is dangerous, what we're teaching today.
T'other people this time more than yourselves. We'll have some fun with
it--but learn first." Craning her neck to look over the stones he holds,
she agrees, "A smaller chunk of 'stone won't make that much flame for a big
dragon, and besides, the greens need it. There are a lot more of us than
there are of either of you," she teases the maleriders. "Dragons' jaws are
different sizes, in proportion to their bodies. Lekath's going t'need some
of these biggest pieces once he's full-sized. Mobeth should probably have
something a little bit smaller. They use their back teeth for breaking it
up, so it has t'fit comfortably back there... d'you know, H'sen, I'm nay
completely positive. I'm thinking it has t'do with volcanos. Like
pumice--have you ever seen pumice? Except 'tis gas from inside Pern caught
in those little bubbles, nay air."

Ch'ton nods and smiles. "Sorry, Kassima. I get too excited for my own good,
mum says." he nods and oohs. "Back of the teeth?" he grins and takes one of
his rocks over to Mobeth. "Open up! Lemmie look." Mobeth whuffles lightly
and opens his mouth alll the way. Ch'ton peers and then peers at the stone
in his hand. He puts it back on the pile, selects a slightly larger one,
and repets peering process. "Ha!" he raises up the bigger rock, and starts
diging for more like it out of the pile.

H'sen frowns a little, trying to fit together in his mind the ideas of
firestone, volcanos, and pumice. "I see. Though I don't think I'd like to
chew on either pumice or firestone, personally." Lekath leans down to give
the firestone an investigative sniff. The pieces look like they might not
be the biggest the young bronze could handle, but H'sen would rather hedge
on the more manageable side for their first attempt. With a second thought,
though, he picks up a slightly larger piece as well.

"You can probably tell all of this is practice 'stone," Kassima goes on,
tossing the piece she'd picked up back in the pile. "We'd use the best
stuff for Threadfall, lesser quality for drills and whatnay, but there's
enough phosphene t'serve our purpose. You've all got your rocks? All you
dragons should stand apart and watch what Lysseth does. Don't give 'em the
'stone yet, Weyrlings! You watch, too." Kassi's practiced eye finds three
stones of the right size for Lysseth, on the large side of smaller or the
low side of medium depending on how one looks at it; Lyss is large for a
green, as big as a smaller blue. The dragon knows what's coming and
obligingly opens her mouth. "You'll put the stones against their back
teeth," Kassi says, doing so. "They'll feel the imperfections in the rock.
Let 'em line them up 'til they're comfortable with it." It's a difficult
thing to demonstrate--Lyss shifts the rock around with prods of her tongue,
but it's hard to do that and keep her jaw gaping open at the same time.
"They'll bite their tongues if'n they aren't careful! Remind 'em! And then
they chew," said loudly to be heard over the sudden *crunch* of rock. "Chew
and chew until 'tis small enough. Then they swallow, thinking strongly of
their second stomach. You wouldn't want this in your *food* stomach.
Neither do they. Any questions while Lyss works up a flame?"

H'sen shakes his head, watching Lysseth, trying to take in whatever
technique there is in giving firestone to a dragon. Watching sort of makes
his teeth hurt, but he reminds himself that at least it will be Lekath's
teeth, not his own, which will be put to the rock. The bronze watches
intently as well, looking eager for his own chance at it. Lekath is asking
him a hundred silent questions, but H'sen hushes him, sure that the
demonstration will take care of most of them.

Lysseth makes quick work of the three 'stones Kassi gives her, and the
Weyrlings don't have long to wait. "You dragons, make sure you aren't
facing your riders or aught else when you do this," Kassi cautions. Lysseth
makes a show of turning her head away from Kassima, aiming at an empty
space of air--opening her mouth wide--and blasting absolutely nothing with
an impressive length of brilliant, greenish-gold fire. "Eventually that'll
be you! Nay today! Your first fires are apt t'be small, mostly smoke, 'tis
something that improves with practice. You know how t'do this." Kassima's
still addressing the dragons. "'Tis instinct, as going *between* is
instinct. But do watch your tongue and do think of your second stomachs. Go
ahead and feed it to 'em, Weyrlings."

Ch'ton grins again at the flame, and pops one of the stones against
Mobeth's hindteeth. "Mind your tongue, and chew... uh... well." he nods,
and steps back, watching Mobeth go to town on the firestone. He'll be
MoFlamin'!

H'sen finds a spot out of the line of fire, so to speak, to feed Lekath the
stone. "Watch out, I don't want to lose a hand," he says to the bronze,
half-joking, as he puts one of the pieces of firestone in his mouth. Lekath
crunches down, his eyes half-closing with concentration. "What does it
taste like? Is it spicy? Is it smokey like bar-b-que?" Apparently the stuff
about the tongue and such ranks lower than first-experience questions.
After a moment, Lekath swallows, tilting his head slightly. It's unclear if
he looks puzzled or faintly ill.

Kassima, watching, frowns slightly. "If'n they feel sick it might've gotten
into the wrong stomach. You'll know soon enough. 'Tis going t'feel more
than passing weird if'n all goes well--remind 'em t'keep those heads
turned, they don't know yet what it *feels* like when they need t'flame and
it might surprise 'em too." Lysseth meanwhile flames again into empty air,
leaving clouds of smoke the wind quickly tatters away.

Dragon> Igen Weyrling Wing sense that Lysseth attempts to clarify the
matter: << It's something like a belch, building up in your throat until
you have to let it go. It doesn't hurt so long as you keep your mouths open
wide. >>

Ch'ton waits patiently, then watch as Mobeth swallows. "Ah... second
stomach, right?" he nods, more to himself, and stands /well/ out of the
way. Behind H'sen. If anyone's becomming toast, it's the bronze rider. He
peers out from around H'sen. "Go for it, then!" he responds to some
comment. Mobeth opens his mouth wide... and.... wait for it.... a little
trail of smoke issues from his mouth. Ch'ton snickers, withholding a full
out laugh.

H'sen is immediately concerned, and he goes to pat down the bronze in the
spot where he knows the second stomach should be. "You didn't swallow it
wrong, did you? You should throw it up right away if you did!" Silence for
a moment, then he gives a half-smile to Kassima. "He says it just feels
weird. I think he'll be all right." Lekath opens his mouth and sticks out
his tongue, then he lets out a gassy burp. "It's okay, don't be so stressed
out about it. You're supposed to know how to do this instinctively, you
know." He gives Lekath a reassuring pat.

Kassima clicks her tongue at Ch'ton. "That isn't bad 'tall. Go on trying,
Mobeth, Lekath, you'll keep getting 'stone until you've flamed a bit." One
last gout of fire and Lysseth seems finished with her display. She settles
down to rumble encouragement to the younglings... and wait for the
inevitable vomiting portion of our program. But there's no need to mention
that yet. "It *does* feel weird, but 'tis a natural thing. Fire-lizards
chew firestone too, did you know?"

Ch'ton blinks. "Firelizard? Like Destin?" he looks around for the brown,
who is currently circling lazily about the field. He turns his attention to
Mobeth. "Well, wait a moment, and give it a good one." he offers. Then, to
Kassima, "Does it produce a bigger flame if they hold the gas in longer?

Lekath moves his head back and forth on his neck, as if trying to settle
the rock in his second stomach. He gives a low rumble from deep in his
throat, then he tries again. His mouth opens, and some dark, gassy smoke
comes out, but no flame. Lekath snorts his annoyance. "It's all right. Just
give it a moment," H'sen reassures him. "Maybe if you--" The weyrling's
words are cut off as Lekath coughs, sending out a brief burst of accidental
flame. "Shells, be more careful! Have I lost an eyebrow?" He pats at his
forehead, checking it.

"Aye. Fire-lizards fought Fall alongside their humans, occasionally. 'Twere
very useful in the groundcrews. A'course, you only fed 'em pebbles," and
Kassi holds a thumb and index finger a little ways apart to show how big
they'd be. "It does, and a'course a fighting dragon has t'be able t'time
the flames when she needs 'em anyway. He can try holding it if'n he's
comfortable doing so. Any discomfort, Mobeth, let go of it!" But then she
has bigger worries: "*Shells*, H'sen! Never stand within reach of a
dragon's flame! Never! You're all right?" She trots over to get a look at
his eyebrows herself.

As usual, H'sen's penchant for drama has gotten the better of him. His hair
and both eyebrows are intact, and it doesn't appear that the flames got
close enough to burn him anywhere. Lekath is worried and upset, but H'sen
reassures him. "No, it's fine. Don't worry about it. You didn't get me
anywhere," he says. "Sorry, Weyrlingmaster. We'll try to be more careful in
the future."

Kassima scrutinizes the young bronzerider carefully anyway. "Do," she
agrees. "This is what I meant earlier, Ch'ton, sort of... any weapon can go
awry, and this *is* a weapon. Dragons usually don't flame their riders,"
she says rather dryly, "but Wingmates? A different story. Dangerous thing,
fire. Now that we've all had that driven home--ah, there!" Across the field
Ubevanth produces his first weak flicker of fire. It's less impressive than
Lekath's, but M'dras's wide grin and enthusiastic clout to his dragon's
shoulder suggests the Barracks will hear him boast about it for far too
long anyway.

H'sen makes sure he's standing in a safe spot, then he encourages Lekath,
"Go ahead, give it another try to see if you can do it on purpose. Try
thinking of a big flame. Maybe that will help your instints kick in."
Certainly, it's clear that Lekath can produce flame, but H'sen wants to be
sure he can control it. The bronze takes a deep breath then tries again. At
first, there's a lot of smoke, but then a small, flickering flame appears.
"Great going! No one lost any eyebrows, even!"

Ch'ton has disconnected.

Kassima grins at the young dragon. "That's beautiful, Lekath. Now,
Lysseth's reminding me there's one more thing you have t'worry about... nay
that you can really mess this up, except for having bad aim. When you've
digested all the 'stone and there's nay more fire in you, you'll start
feeling uncomfortable. Very. When the ash feels like a weight in your
stomach 'tis time t'hit the ash pits." Beyond her, Lysseth stands with
dignified alacrity and moves towards the ditch dug near the Barracks. It's
not too foul yet; this is an early flaming lesson, but wait.... "Throw the
ash up in there. Be warned, Weyrlings, 'tis going t'smell and feel and
generally be ruddy *terrible*."

H'sen grins up at Lekath, and the bronze puffs up a little at the
Weyrlingmaster's compliment. The boy makes a face at the thought of the ash
pits, but if it's something that has to be done, it has to be done. THe
bronze looks game for whatever--at last, it seems instinct is taking over.
He coughs a couple of times, producing more smoke but no flame again, and
he shuffles over to the ash pits to do his business. "Do the ash pits have
to be cleaned out? Or do they just get filled up and buried over, and a new
one's dug?"

"I can honestly and thankfully say I've never had aught t'do with making
the ash pits. I should ask Josilina," Kassima muses. "They must be cleaned
out some way or all the Bowl would be filled over ash pits after so many
centuries. Either the ash must settle with time, or they must get rid of
it--or mayhaps they reuse just a few? Assuming the ash gets less vile with
some time, they could dig an old pit up after a few Turns and use it
again." Even while she talks Lysseth, err, disposes of the ash in as
delicate and businesslike a manner as she can. "After a full Fall a dragon
has a lot of ash t'be getting rid of. This is just a wee bit, in comparison."

H'sen looks thoughtful for a moment. "Perhaps they do get reused after a
few Turns," he agrees. Not that he really cares that much about the
mechanics of the ash pits, as long as he isn't one of the ones who has to
do anything with it. Lekath looks like he is having difficulty for a moment
or two, and then he finally gets rid of the ash. He looks positively green
for a moment. Then his color improves, and he trots back to H'sen like the
frisky young bronze he is.

Kassima grins up at Lekath when the bronze returns. "Flame produced, ash
disposed of, lesson learned. Good job, everyone," she calls to all the
Weyrlings. "Unless anyone has any questions, I say class is dismissed.
We'll repeat this tomorrow, the next day, and so on; nay surprise, I'm sure."

"Thank you, Weyrlingmaster," H'sen says, then gives Lekath a pat. "I think
it's time for a good scrubbing for you, then some oil. How about that?" The
bronze apparently agrees, as he takes the lead, heading for the lake.