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Aerial Display Over Southern Boll


Date:  April 4, 1997
Places:  Southern Boll's Skyspace, and Benden Weyr's Skyspace and
North Bowl
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:  I've started this log sort of in the middle of things,
right before we left for the display--I know, it sounds like I'm
contradicting myself.  What I mean is that I've cut out most of the
preparing-RP, as that was linked to the arrival of the tithe train, 
which was linked to a hotsprings soak, and... well, let's just say that
I didn't want the log to go on *forever*. ;)  Most knot-chat, all page-
chat, and all dragon-chat as well has been cut out.  Items prefixed by
<*> take place away from Lysseth while I'm riding her.

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The Log:

<*> Settled between Adonith's neckridges, Alyssa looks around again, 
settles herself one last time, and with her fist gives the traditional 
signal to take the wing /between/.

<*> Juliath disappears into Between.

<*> Adonith disappears into Between.

<*> Iridith disappears into Between.

<*> Herath disappears into Between.

<*> Lysseth disappears into Between.

Between
You gasp as the icy black nothingness of Between surrounds you! You hear 
nothing, see nothing, and feel nothing. The trip takes five heartbeats...
Black...
Blacker...
Blackest!

You suddenly emerge...

<*> Lysseth emerges from Between with a blast of cold air!

<*> Nicoth emerges from Between with a blast of cold air!

<*> Kimbrith emerges from Between with a blast of cold air!

Benden Weyr> T'lar says, "Are we where the gather can see us?"

<*> As one the Benden dragons appear from the frosty emptiness of 
/between/, forming a traditional V shape in the bright skies of Southern 
Boll's warm airspace. Bronze Nicoth and the chromatic dragons compose the 
twin wings, with a purplish blue at point, while the golds Kimbrith and 
Herath wink into position below the others between the two flanking lines.

Benden Weyr> Alyssa just checked. We are. :)

Benden Weyr> Kassima says, "Yeppers. :)"

<*> Settled between Adonith's neckridges, Alyssa glances over one 
shoulder, then the other, while the wing reforms to either side of her 
blue, who is at point. Her hand lifts high to signal for the 
initialization of the first maneuver.

<*> Lysseth trumpets enthusiastically as she emerges from *between*, near 
the end of one arm of the wing. After a mere moment in formation, she 
breaks away at Alyssa's signal to swing out in the beginning of a spiral, 
veering far to the left of the wings and counting on the others to follow.

<*> Tenli adjusts a bundle she's got attached to her straps. She leans 
forward, hand on her lovely green's neck.

<*> Iridith lifts a wing and soars after Lysseth, circling around the far 
side of the formation.

<*> Nestled in her familiar spot on Herath, Kindre and Kimbrith come 
nearly wingtip to wingtip as the other dragons begin the decent of the 
tiered spiral. Both in perfect synch, they form a golden bullseye of 
sorts, the swirling dragons twirling down like the colored stripes, 
completing the illusion.

<*> Juliath moves next, silent but for the whistle of wind over wings, her 
rider tucked in low over her neck as the pair enter the spiral in neat 
formation, towards the golden center.

<*> Lysseth spreads her wings and begins circling the formation, dropping 
a bit below and closer to the golds. Slowly, she tightens her circle and 
drops it further; it might become apparent that she's beginning a downward 
spiral, focused on the pair of golds. She spins until it's necessary for 
her to turn on a wingtip in order to avoid hitting either queen--then, 
folding her wings, she drops beneath both golds to dive for the crowd. It 
*almost* looks like she's going to hit someone when she opens her wings 
with a crack of air and buzzes past the spectators instead, trumpeting 
joyfully.

<*> Nicoth pulls in one wing to follow the other's in the tightening 
spiral. Gold/bronze hide picks up and reflects back any light from the 
skies and the Gather. He passes so close under the queens it looks as if 
they will collide.

<*> Adonith mirrors the greens' and bronze's adroit movements as they wing 
outward and downward, snout tucked downward for greater speed and a 
slightly more rapid rate of descent than the greens are using. The result 
is that the blue begins above the bronze and greens and, as the circle 
tightens toward the golds, he weaves between the others, rocketing along 
the crowds alongside Lysseth.

<*> Iridith follows Lysseth's spiraling path. The tropical breeze whispers 
over her wings as she tightens her course, speed increasing. As she cuts 
under golden Herath by a fingertip, she bellows triumphantly at her own 
cleverness. Her voice as she whips over the gatherers' heads echoes back 
up from the jungle.

<*> From atop Nicoth, Skimming over the heads of the crowd, Nicoth's 
mighty wings snap out into their full 60 meter spread with an audible 
crack. The wind of his passage cause dust to stir and cloth to ripple.

<*> Kimbrith stays tightly beside Herath, to the right of the younger 
queen. Her left wing, a little smaller than one of Herath's, seems 
sometimes to be slightly above Herath's and sometimes slightly below, but 
always what seems to be less than a wing tip away.

<*> Juliath continues on her silent path, a gold tinged green arrow in the 
evening sky, blending for a moment into a blur with the golds before 
zooming close over the spectators. Finally, she gives a bugle and sweeps 
up into the next formation.

<*> Nicoth uses the warm air rising from the sea to lift him skyward back 
into formation on the wingtip of a gold and a green.

<*> Lysseth extends her wings and sweeps them up in a single beat, 
adroitly using a thermal to rise back up to the level of the queens. On a 
whim, she spins in a sort of twisting backroll as she goes, coming 
rightside-up again just in time to ride the winds that flank Kimbrith and 
Herath.

<*> Adonith sprints with his usual aerial alacrity toward the golds, 
bugling again as he leads the other dragons to a greater elevation. 
Between his neck ridges, Alyssa makes quick note of where the others are 
forming about Kimbrith and Herath, signalling again to the other riders.

<*> Iridith uses the amazing speed she created in her dive to rise without 
wingbeats. When she begins to stall, she flips on her tail and drops into 
formation beside Lysseth.

<*> Juliaths wings beat downward in a mighty stroke, then another, 
propelling her small body upward again into position near the golds. No 
fancy maneuvers here, just raw power and draconic energy. Meli returns 
Alyssa's signal as she and her green form into line.

<*> Herath beats her wings steadily, the soothing tropical a welcome 
feeling pocketed beneath her wings. Flashes of bronze, blue, and green 
tint her free wing, while Kimbrith's glowing amber form reflects moonlit 
gold on her other.

Kassima raises one hand from its place gripping her straps to return 
Alyssa's signal, as Lysseth shifts minutely to fly in perfect formation 
with the others. Her lashing tail and rapidly whirling eyes signal the 
dragon's enthusiasm and anticipation of the next manuever.

<*> Adonith has this time located himself at the leftmost tip of the 
draconic formation, in which the dragons are flying abreast, and at his 
rider's signal the dragons, in synch with each other, begin peeling off in 
a leftward sideslip. Left wingstips dip, and the dragons begin to bank 
sharply downward toward the ground.

<*> As her turn arrives, Juliath also dips leftwards, banking downwards. 
Smaller in size than the blue, she must adjust carefully to maintain the 
same rate of descent and spacing, so that the line appears as a smooth 
curve.

<*> Tenli leans forward, squinting behind her goggles, adjusting her 
dragon's descent with thought and hand. The green feathers her wings to 
keep from dropping more quickly than her neighbor.

<*> Nicoth gauges his move and speed carefully to compensate for his 
larger size and wingspan. He slips gracefully after the green, banking 
down and left.

<*> Herath archs slighty upward, her neck stretching fully out as her 
rider leans completely against it. Dipping her muzzle, the young dragon's 
eyes focus seemingly upon the ground before her body follows the gaze. 
Adjusting to keep up with the quicker, agile dragons, she slides into 
position just behind the others continuing down and to the left.

<*> Larger than her clutchsister, but smaller than Adonith, Lysseth 
calculatingly compensates for size in her own downward banking. She 
extends her wings so as not to fall too fast, though when the wind 
threatens to slow her down, she folds them to maintain the correct 
velocity.

<*> Nicoth pumps his wings and rises, banking back right to complete the 
circle. With a ease of experience gained in nearly 4 years of flying 
Thread, he easily finds his place in formation.

<*> As the wing reaches the bottom-most point of thr sideways descent, 
Adonith flattens his wings out and snaps back his wingsails, utilizing his 
youth, eagerness, and the gusty Boll winds to ascend upward in a forward 
and leftward motion. The wing begins to gain altitude in a curvaceous wave 
of draconic grace, each extreme of size -- from gold to green -- adjusting 
flight to evoke a smooth line of oneness in the Benden ranks.

<*> Iridith rises into formation, one draconic unit in a smooth line of 
dragons returning to formation. Once back in line, she turns her head, 
left and right, eyes tinged with green-yellow excitement.

<*> Juliath, as the others around her, complete the undulation of the 
wave, ending on a rising arc to settle back into a steady position and 
graces the warm air with a merry bugle.

<*> From her gold Herath, Kindre squirms a bit atop the queen, apparently 
preparing or the next manuevers to be attempted by the troup. The gold, 
however, remains in perfect synch with the others as they reach the 
intended heights.

<*> Once she has completed her part in the elegant and graceful wave, 
Lysseth turns on a wingtip to rise back up to proper flying heights. Her 
position is an exact replica of her place in the formation just after the 
Wing arrived from *between*, before any of the display had even begun, and 
she maintains her space with a proud determination to do all that she can 
to make sure that the formation is nothing less than perfect.

<*> Kimbrith and Herath circle around, opposite to eachother, keeping 
their rise symmetrical. When they are high enough above the other dragons, 
Merla and Kindre reach into sacks their dragons are carrying, and begin 
dropping coloured rope down toward the crowd, and the other dragons in the 
flight.

<*> Adonith bugles with just-contained excitement and, drawing in a deep 
breath, expels a gout of flame toward the initial clump of rope. With a 
sizzling POOF it disintegrates into ashes that float harmlessly 
groundward; the blue trumpets in self-congratulation and enjoyment of the 
event.

<*> Nicoth roars and leaps forward at a clump of falling rope. He bugles 
his challenge to this false Thread as if it were the real thing. A gout of 
flame erupts from his muzzle searing the rope to black char. A quick 
backwing and he is again in formation.

<*> As a clump of blue ropes twists and twines about itself as it falls 
through the humid, tropical air, Juliath dips her left wing almost 
imperceptibly, banking the touch necessary to intercept. With a narrow jet 
of bright orange, she sears the mass into ash, leaving behind only a gray 
smudge on the twilight sky. A slight shift, and she is neatly back into 
position.

<*> A handful of mixed red and blue ropes falls, twisting toward the 
crowd, dropping quickly, down, down toward the crowd. It falls just past 
Juliath off to her right as she is occupied with a clump over her left 
wing.

<*> Lysseth watches the descending ropes with rapidly whirling eyes, tail 
twitching with impatience that is not unleavened by excitement. A tangle 
of rope that resembles Thread to an eerie degree--save, of course, that 
Thread is usually not found in shades of brilliant blue, vibrant purple, 
and verdant emerald green--approaches her from above, rapidly carried 
forth by the same winds that the green rides to remain stable. She 
unhinges her jaw, displaying her long and wickedly sharp teeth for but an 
instant before the image of those is lost in a blazing burst of orange-
gold. Rope meets dragonfire--and loses. The ash drifts down below Lysseth 
accompanied by wisps of grey smoke, as the dragon gives a crystalline 
bugle of challenge, pleasure, and triumph!

<*> Tenli throws her weight violently against her suddenly-extended wings 
and rises sharply up toward a clump of ropes. Her tail lashes behind her 
as she belches out a great cloud of flame. She folds her wings and drops 
rock-like back into formation.

<*> Nicoth notices a clump of Thread/rope falling toward the crowd. Diving 
out of formation, he manages to flame the colorful, harmless debris into 
black dust. The black dust filters down softly onto the watchers below.

<*> Adonith swivels about on a wingtip, a midair pirouette intended to 
place him in exact position to flame a collection of entangled strands 
from out of the sky. He exhales perdition, the ropes combust, and with a 
bugle he performs another about-face, resuming his former course as if 
these aerial acrobatics were commonplace for him.

<*> As a neighbor gouts spitfire towards a cluster, Juliath suddenly pulls 
her wings in, dropping rock-like a few dragon-lengths. With a *crack*, she 
respreads her wings, swooping back upwards and sending her own final gush 
of firey breath towards another hapless bit of rope. In short order, she 
returns to her place in the line.

<*> Iridith sideslips just a bit , adjusting her trajectory to overtake a 
clump of ropes with the most efficient use of her foreward momentum. She 
times her arrival perfectly, simply spitting out the correct amount of 
flame to char the ropes into fine ash. A smug warble bubbles in her 
throat.

<*> Lysseth furls her wings a bit to skim forward as she rises, looking as 
though she's about to meet a tangle of rope head-on. The yellow and pink 
patch does not find itself splatted against green hide, however; at the 
very last possible moment, she swings to the side and turns her head to 
flame. The fireball that eclipses the rope sears it into a mere memory, 
and Lyss dives *just* in time to avoid having her wing crisped by her own 
flame. She twists in her dive, spinning 'round and 'round before coming to 
a halt right in her proper place amidst the Wing.

<*> Kimbrith drops below the other dragons, her weigh allowing her to fall 
quickly. She sweeps down, turning back in a wide arc, and ends up flying 
back, underneat the other dragons. Merla opens another sack, looking like 
she is going to drop coloured ropes this low...perhaps as a challenge to 
the others. Instead, a shower of red flower petals drop on the crowd.

<*> Nicoth follows the gold in a dive for the ground. T'lar upturns a sack 
letting loose a veritable rain of small colored ribbons. The twisting 
rainbow showers the crowd.

<*> Tenli digs her gloved hand into the sack she's got attached in front 
of her and strews handsful of flower petals over both sides of her 
dragon's body. They swirl in multi-colors in the green's slipstream, then 
drift softly down to the watchers below.

<*> Adonith swoops downward at a reckless rate; ever the daredevil and 
speedster, he aims for very low and very frighteningly swift buzzing of 
the onlookers while his rider looses a full bag of purple poppy petals on 
the audience. Color streams in Adonith's wake in the form of floral 
softness, the petals floating harmlessly downward as Adonith sprints 
upward once more, a rumblechuckle of pleasure audible even to those on the 
ground.

<*> Lysseth and Juliath break formation, each winging towards the center 
of the V. Once they are head to head, each turns to the side and begins 
flying in a circle--they are now head-to-tail, one following the other, 
like Yin and Yang. As though they had rehearsed the manuever previously, 
Meli and Kassima open their sacks simultaneously to empty them into the 
whirlpool of air created by their spinning dragons: Kassima's black, red, 
and green ribbons mix with Meli's black rose petals and the petals of 
lilies, dyed to a matching sable.

<*> The Benden dragons reform into two wings -- golds beneath the fighting 
dragons. The formations circle back over the Gather about 2 dragon lengths 
above the ground. At a signal from the lead gold rider, all the dragons 
bugle loudly in salute to Southern Boll.

<*> Adonith disappears into Between.

<*> Lysseth disappears into Between.

Between
You gasp as the icy black nothingness of Between surrounds you! You hear 
nothing, see nothing, and feel nothing. The trip takes five heartbeats...
Black...
Blacker...
Blackest!

You suddenly emerge...

<*> Lysseth emerges from Between with a blast of cold air!

<*> Nicoth emerges from Between with a blast of cold air!

<*> Juliath emerges from Between with a blast of cold air!

<*> From the North, From the Benden Star Stones, M'nar's mint green Gelth 
rears on hind legs and bugles a greeting to green Lysseth and her rider, 
Kassima, welcoming them home.

<*> From the North, From the Benden Star Stones, M'nar's mint green Gelth 
rears on hind legs and bugles a greeting to bronze Nicoth and his rider, 
T'lar, welcoming them home.

<*> From the North, From the Benden Star Stones, M'nar's mint green Gelth 
rears on hind legs and bugles a greeting to green Juliath and her rider, 
Meli, welcoming them home.

<*> Tabith emerges from Between with a blast of cold air!

Benden Weyr> Alyssa woo, welcomespam.

<*> From the North, From the Benden Star Stones, M'nar's mint green Gelth 
rears on hind legs and bugles a greeting to green Tabith and her rider, 
Tamma of Ista Weyr.

<*> Adonith flies downward towards the north end of the bowl.

<*> Tabith trills cheerfully to the watchdragon.

<*> Juliath flies downward towards the north end of the bowl.

You fly downwards towards the north end of the bowl.

<*> Tabith glides down from above.

<*> From Kheveth's ledge, Kheveth bugles, then croons a greeting to 
Tabith.

<*> Adonith croons a polite greeting to Tabith.

<*> Adonith flies downward to the ground.

<*> Juliath flies downward to the ground.

<*> Tabith circles lazily downwards, till she hears and spots Kheveth, 
then alters course to head for his ledge, warbling loudly to him.

<*> Tabith lands on Kheveth's Ledge.

You fly downwards towards the ground.

You backwing for a landing on sands of the bowl.

<*> Above, From the Benden Star Stones, M'nar's mint green Gelth rears on 
hind legs and bugles a greeting to gold Kimbrith and her rider, Merla, 
welcoming them home.

<*> Above, From the Benden Star Stones, M'nar's mint green Gelth rears on 
hind legs and bugles a greeting to green Iridith and its rider, Tenli, 
welcoming them home.

<*> 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.

<*> Nicoth backwings for a landing.

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.

T'lar slides precipitously down from Nicoth's back.

Kimbrith backwings for a landing.

T'lar quickly makes a snowball and heaves it at Meli.

T'lar makes another and another that head for Kassima and Alyssa.

Kassima is grinning from ear to ear as she swings down from her dragon's 
neck. "Yeeeeeeeeehah!" she yells enthusiastically. "That was *marvelous*! 
Even if Lyss *was* trying to make me airsick." She stops talking just in 
time to get creamed in the face by a snowball.

Astride Juliath, Meli, busy unbuckling herself and the empty sacks, 
doesn't notice in time and gets a face full of snow. "Pth pth" she says, 
spitting out wet stuff.

Alyssa removes her helmet and goggles and says to those around her, "You 
all do Benden pro--" SPLAT goes the snowball in her mouth, and she 
splutters with surprise.

T'lar ducks behind a bronze flank to prepare more ammo.

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

Kimbrith sloshes her tail through the snow, aiming it over a certain 
bronze and a certain bronzerider hidden behind him.

Benden Weyr> Emlyn says, "Did people enjoy the show there at Boll?"

Benden Weyr> Alyssa says, "They seemed to have."

T'lar is knocked flat by a tidal wave of snow. All that is currently 
visible are his booted feet.

Benden Weyr> Kassima enjoyed it no end! :) I don't know if the Bollians 
did. I hope so. :)

Meli nearly jumps down, landing in a neat crouch, her gloves already 
scooping up snow. A pat, a turn, a pat, and she has a nice round sphere, 
which she launches at what little of T'lar she can see.

T'lar struggles out of the avalanche. "Heh. Who did that?"

Merla glares at Kimbrith, "You shouldn't do things like that..." she says. 
It is clear from her tone that she is quite pleased with her lifemate.

Alyssa wipes her face and just stares at the bronzerider. "Is that a way 
to treat your wingsecond?"

T'lar takes the opportunity to lob a snowball at Merla.

T'lar says "Sure."

Meli squats down, making three more snowballs in rapid succession, holding 
two in her left hand and lobbing the third at T'lar, now that he's re-
exposed. The others follow in short order.

Kassima wipes off the white mask of snow covering her face, and gathers 
up the largest snowball she can. She aims it at whatever can be seen of 
T'lar. "Take that, bronzeboy!" she yells through her own laughter.

T'lar dives back into the snowbank to escape the assault. Muffled 
exclamtions can barely be heard.

Merla succeedes in ducking the snowball, but it hits Kimbrith squarely in 
the snout. The dragon promptly knocks her rider face first into the snow.

Seeing T'lar thoroughly dealth with, Meli takes the chance to splatter 
Kassi. Hopefully she'll hit her face, though who can tell in the dark.

T'lar wiggles through the snow trying to put Nicoth between him and his 
attackers. Jumping to his feet, he throws one at Meli and one at Kassi.

Face? No. Ear, yes. "Hey!" Kassi exclaims, scrabbling at her ear. But 
she's distracted by a snowball that lands squarely on the *other* ear, 
making her look as though she is wearing a pair of white earmuffs.

Nicoth uses one foreclaw to help Kimbrith bury Merla.

Meli ducks, receiving T'lar's second lob on her shoulder, and just starts 
throwing half-formed snowballs at anything that moves. Including Juliath, 
who whuffs, burps out a tiny bit of remaining flame, and swats at the 
snowback with her tail, sending icy stuff flying.

T'lar tackles Meli into the drift behind her. He tries to stuff snow down 
the front of her riding jacket.

"Aieee!" Meli articulates at this action, batting at T'lar's hands and 
wrestling with him in the drift. If she can just get on top of him, she 
can bury him.

Alyssa laughs quietly, shakes her head, and tosses with a very unpracticed 
way, a snowball at T'lar's head. That done, she places her hands on 
Adonith's straps and calls, "Good night, all."

Kassima finally shakes snow off of her head, and sneaks up behind T'lar, 
trying to stuff snow down the *back* of his riding jacket. "Night, Lys!" 
she calls over, while at this noble task. "Clear skies--and thankee. You 
led the display well; 'twas a sheer delight to participate in it."

T'lar is laughing so hard, he loses control of the situation and ends up 
beneath Meli. He realizes this tactical error a moment too late.

Meli starts shoveling snow over T'lar as fast as she can. "C'mon, Kassi, 
help m'out here!"

Kassima grins. "Gladly!" She kneels in the snow and starts scooping it 
over T'lar, like a canine trying to bury a bone in the dirt.

Snow has found its way into all of T'lar's clothing. "Heh. Ladies....muf..
snort...I'm freezing here."

Alyssa uses the oiled straps and an extended foreleg to mount Adonith and, 
once settled between his neckridges, she rubs his hide adoringly and 
receives, in return, a loving warblecroon.

T'lar tries to wave goodbye to Alyssa.

Meli pauses, rocking back on her heels. "Ah, well. Serves y'right." 
Grinning, her teeth nearly as white as the snow, she adds "I'll jus' have 
t'get you home an' warm y'up."

Settled between Adonith's neckridges, Alyssa waves to T'lar, shaking her 
head with a smile, and calls, "Thank you all for such a fine performance 
in the display."

Kassima grins and rubs a last handful of snow into T'lar's hair before 
scooting away. "You deserved it," she points out. "Just on general 
principal, t'say naught of throwing snow at *us*!"

T'lar sits up and shakes like a canine. "Will you help me warm up? Can we 
invite Kassi up? Two could warm me up better than one."

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

T'lar says "You're welcome, Lys. It was fun."

Meli waves a gloved hand at Alyssa as well, and calls out her good nights. 
"Thanks, 'lys. Makes f'a nice change from yellin' at weyrlings all day."

Benden Weyr> Alyssa says, "Night all. And thanks. Good job."

Kassima turns her back on T'lar--quite possibly a tactical error--long 
enough to wave up to Lys. "You're more'n welcome, Lys, and thank *you*! 
Clear skies t'you both!"

Meli waggles her brows. "Wooga" she replies to T'lar's suggestion.

T'lar can't pass it up. The snowball hits Kassi square in the back.

Benden Weyr> Kassima says, "Night, Lysbabe. Thanks muchly; it was a 
blast. :)"

Benden Weyr> Alyssa says, "Thank YOU all...you guys did the work. I just 
barked orders."

Benden Weyr> Meli says, "Yeppers! Just think what we could do if we 
actually do this often enough to have a plan! :) Sweet dreams!"

Kassima, unbalanced by the snowball, actually gets knocked forwards so 
that she tumbles head-over-heels and winds up peering up at the sky with 
a stupefied expression. Only for a moment, though--she's soon back up, 
snowball in hand, which she hefts threateningly while mock-glaring at 
T'lar. "Hit me from behind, will you?"

T'lar says "Just trying to get your attention. Want to go up and get warm 
together?"

Meli manages to rise to her feet, sneak around away from the drift, and 
haul her soggy butt up onto Juliath. "Warm good. Weyr good. Much 
sleepiness" she intones, then chuckles.

Meli climbs smoothly up Juliath's extended foreleg and settles herself 
between the neck ridges, as the green gives a welcome rumble from deep in 
her throat.

T'lar says "Good idea."

T'lar is catapulted up by a quick movement of Nicoth's snout. He gets the 
bronze an affectionate slap.

Kassima raises an eyebrow and peers up at the cave-Meli. "Wooga?" she 
echoes, somehow managing--Faranth only knows how--to waggle one eyebrow.

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

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