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The Perfect Wherry


Date:  August 18, 1997
Place:  Bakercraft Training Center
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 remember this as the beginning of a rather awesome
sequence of cooking classes Ofira held.  They didn't last nearly 
long enough--I think there were five, unless I missed one, and another
(unrelated, I think) lesson in making jam held at a later Gather.
That's a lot of scenes, but they were so much fun I regret there 
weren't more!  Thankfully, not all of them involved, as I'm afraid
this one does, J'cob stuffing inappropriate things in bird orifices.

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The Log:

Public announcement: Ofira announces "Class is about to begin at the
BakerCraft Training Center at High Reaches Weyr. All are welcome :)"

You stride purposefully into the training center.

Bailey moves to sit with her father, a doubtlessly foolish idea, but...she
sits, folding her hands in her lap, feet dangling to just brush the floor
with her toetips.

J'cob waves, "And I'm her lovely rider, J'cob. Greenrider. Wanna meet
Siraeth sometime?" He's got a /big/ grin.

Kassima ducks her head into the room, inhaling the various cooking scents
and breaking into a grin. "This must be the right place after all. Need any
help with aught, Ofira?"

Sirsha grins, presenting herself though she's obviously a little flustered
after her trip. "I'm Sirsha. Kitchen crew at Fort Weyr. And I'm so glad I
made it."

Maylia strides purposely in from the kitchen.

Sirsha wows, "Maylia! I never thought I'd see you here!"

J'cob waves to Kassima, "Join me?"

Ofira smiles at Sirsha, making a concerted effort to ignore J'cob. "Oh,
Kitchen staff at Fort - glad to have you.." She nods to Kassima, "If
youcould just distribute these instruction sheets to each work station..."

Dirigo strides purposely in from the kitchen.

Fovin strides purposely in from the kitchen.

Maylia glances about the room, recognising the face of...what was her name?
"Hello - Sirsha!"

Suzot strides purposely in from the kitchen.

Bailey slides over hurriedly. She'll not chance it that her father would
let KAssima sit on her. So now she just sits. And watches.

Dirigo walks in looking for Fovin not finding him she sighs. She look
around again finding him this time and moves over towards him forming the
SeaCraft contingent

Suzot comes along after shouldering her huge pack. Once inside, she sits
out of the way, off to the side, and sets the pack down to quietly wait her
turn.

Fovin sits with Dirigo with a smile.

Ofira nods as some Seacrafters enter, and another girl, "If everyone could
take their places at the work stations, please, " she calls, gesturing to
the individual kitchen set ups.

Kassima waves over to J'cob, and everyone else too. "Benden's duties to all
and sundry... oh, certes, Ofira." She picks up the aforementioned sheets,
grinning at the other Benden greenrider. "Mayhaps after a bit...." As per
Ofira's bidding, she starts distributing the instructions.

J'cob asks Ofira, "Can I work with /you/, Ofira?"

Dirigo frowns seeing the sack that Suzot brings in and says quietly to
Fovin, "Shard, I forgot to bring my fish."

Suzot offers duties in a quiet voice and doesn't go to a work station.

Maylia heads over to take an empty seat by Sirsha, leaning down to greet her.

Fovin finds two adjacent work stations for himself and Dirigo. "Never mind,
I'd rather learn to cook something different, anyway."

Lathen strides purposely in from the kitchen.

R'val strides purposely in from the kitchen.

Dirigo walks over to a station and scans the various utensils that are
layed out, "Maybe, it would be nice to have something else." Dirigo laughs
as she rearanges things to her likings.

R'val hurries inside, slipping off his gloves and helmet. Catching Ofira's
eye, he smiles brightly before hurriedly finding a seat.

Lathen hurries in, his flying helmet still on, though the rest of his gear
is under an arm. It's sad, really. One ear flap stands straight out from
the side of his head. In the hand not carrying riding gear he's got a
string of dressed fish. They're frozen from having been -between-.

Kassima finishes doling out instruction sheets, and turns around just in
time to hear Ofira's summons to work stations. Perhaps out of habit, she
complies. "I don't know that I've ever really tried to *roast* a wherry
before," she murmurs under her breath.

Sirsha snags a sheet of instructions, smiling as Maylia sits down. "I
practically had to beg D'ver and Cabth to bring me here tonight." She
giggles. "I didn't tell anyone either."

Ofira nods to Lathen as she ties on her apron. "Good..we're just about to
begin," she says to the CraftSecond. She turns to the assembled group. "For
those of you who dont' know me, I'm CraftMaster Ofira, and this is
CraftSecond Lathen. Before we begin, I'd like to go aroudn the room and
have each of you introduce yourselves and tell us where you are from
please." She nods to Suzot to begin.

Fovin chuckles at Dirigo. "You've been at the Seacraft two turns and you
say 'Maybe'?

J'cob elbows Kassima, "Just play one?"

R'val sits near J'cob and murmurs, "Erm. What do we do?"

Dirigo laughs quitely and lowers her voice so that Ofira can be heard,
"Well, I like fish."

Lathen tosses his riding gear haphazardly into the arms of an apprentice.
The unfortunate hat remains forgotten on his head while he ties on his own
apron.

Ofira eyes the group, waiting for both quiet, and introductions.

Dirigo looks around for someone to begin, not wanting to start herself.

J'cob whispers to R'val, "We keep our hands off Ofira's buns during the
lecture."

R'val hmphs at J'cob, "That goes without saying."

Ofira points to the SeaCrafter girl, "You then. Go ahead, please."

Fovin giggles at what he thought he heard.

Kassima elbows J'cob back. "Play a wherry? I don't even want t'know...."
She quiets down, though, gaze following Ofira's pointing finger.

Benden Weyr> <J'cob> You'd think that, R'val, wouldn't you?

Lathen finally comes over to Ofira and gives her a one-armed hug and kiss
on the side of her head. His arm remains around her shoulders while his
practiced eyes roam over the ingredients on the table. Something catches
his attention, and he bends to look.

Dirigo looks up and smiles, "Well okay." She stands up and speaks in a
fairly audible yet wavering voice, "I'm Dirigo>'

Ofira nods. "Well met Dirigo, And you are from...?"

Dirigo continues, "I am a SeaCraft Apprentice." She looks at Ofira
carefully hoping thats all she will be required to say.

Fovin decides to make sure of that. "I'm Fovin, also from the Seacraft.

Dirigo smiles and looks at Fovin thankfully.

Ofira nods, not aware that Lathen's presence rather dwarfs her, "Very
good...I see, another SeaCrafter," she nods approvingly, "next?"

Lathen looks up at Dirigo when her place of origin is mentioned. He peers
at her, then at Fovin. The baker mutters to himself, "I've got to spend
more time at my posting, apparently."

Fovin looks sharply at Lathen.

Ofira waves vaguely at the Benden contingent, "Come on...I know none of you
are shy."

Kassima flicks Ofira a rueful grin, clearing her throat before she speaks.
"M'name's Kassima, green Lysseth's rider of Benden Weyr. Well met and all
of that."

Ofira nods to Kassima, her gaze now fixing on the two male riders in the room.

Suzot shifts her weight on the stool she's found on the edge of the room.

R'val coughs softly, raising his voice, "R'val, blue Vidarth's rider, of
Benden."

Lathen feels Fovin's eyes on him and returns the apprentice's look calmly.
He is a master crafter, after all.

Fovin seems to shrink even smaller under the Master's steady gaze.

Ofira nods, smiling encouragingly at R'val and then looking towards J'cob
and Suzot.

Lathen turns to smile at Kassima and R'val. These two he knows and gives
them smiles and nods.

J'cob stands up, and flexs slightly, "And I'm J'cob--native 'High Reaches,
currently of Benden. I've got the best buns outside the bakercraft, and
Siraeth's my Green, outside, in case anyone wants to get up-close and
personal later." He winks suggestively, then sits back down.

Fovin stifles a giggle. He's in trouble enough with Lathan.

Kassima starts to nod and smile back to Lathen, whom she recognizes, when
she's distracted by J'cob's proclamation. She snorts slightly--whether in
amusement or disagreement at his best buns claim is hard to determine.

Ofira sighs ever so slightly, and then looks over at the three remaining
young women and nods to them, clearly expecting an answer.

Maylia half-stands, still trying to tie her apron, "I'm Maylia, from Healer
Hall." She looks about the room, starting to smile as she ties knots in the
string.

Bailey is most pleased to be passed over, content to watch her feet swing
to and fro beneath her as her father addresses the room.

Lathen looks at J'cob for a moment, then just shakes his head. "I remember
you, now, J'cob." This he announces in the midst of introductions,
unfortunately interrupting poor Maylia, "I met you one evening at Benden
when Ursa was showing off a new gown. You claimed to have slept with half
the craft council."

Suzot stands as Maylia finishes. "Benden's compliments to the Reaches, and
Vintnercraft's to the Bakercraft. I'm Apprentice Suzot, and if there's
time, Master Ofira has asked me to discuss the wines appropriate for wherry
dishes."

Ofira pokes Lathen, "Not...class...respect...now...enough!"

Sirsha stands up. In as firm a voice as she can muster, she says, "I am
Sirsha of Fort Weyr."

Lathen ahems and hushes, giving Ofira a rueful look.

J'cob shoots a look to Lathen, and mouths the name, "Tiemar" silently.

Ofira smiles, "Very good," she says, apparently delighted that the students
this evening can recall their own names. An encouraging sign. "And welcome
all of you to the BakerCraft Training Center."

Fovin can read that name off anyone's lips. He studies J'cob and Lathen.

Ofira continues, blithely unaware of any muttering or meaningful looks
passing back and forth. "Our topic for tonight is "How to Prepare and Roast
the Perfect Wherry..."

Fovin beams!

Kassima glances at J'cob out of the corner of one eye, and shakes her head
slightly in the universal gesture for 'I don't want to know.' Rubbing idly
at her nose, she decides to listen to Ofira instead; she, at least, makes
sense.

R'val's jet-black eyebrows raise as he smiles warmly at Ofira, listening.

Ofira turns to Lathen, "Perhaps I should first give a brief history of the
wherry on Pern and how it has been prepared throught hte turns..." she says
waving a thick sheaf of notes.

Suzot sits back down.

As the conversation gets down to business, Lathen does too. The casual
attitude he'd adopted, leaning against the counter, is gone. He considers
what Ofira's just said, then frowns. "Perhaps -while- the wherry is in the
roast?"

J'cob leans over to Bailey, and whispers, "remember the time i ate three
whole wherries, when visiting Ista, and threw up all over?'

Ofira gazes at her notes, "Oh...just an hour's or so introduction...dont'
you think..." she says aside to her CraftSecond.

Fovin leans back against his counter with a mournful look on his face.

Dirigo groans as she seas the huge tome Ofira has in her hands and says
quitely to Fovin, "I thought we came here to learn how to cook. Not for a
history lesson."

Bailey answers her father with only a nod, fear entering into her eyes. She
looks to Ofira, then hesitantly whispers to her Da, "Her going to make them
all sick?" A crease lines babysoft skin on her forehead.

One baker Senior apprentice up-front looks blissful -- he wrote his thesis
for Jouneyrank on the history of the stuffing-era of wherry production.

Lathen fixes Ofira with a frank look. "Well, only if you want to see as
much of your students' tonsils as I saw of yours when giving that same
lecture to you." He mimes an enormous yawn.

R'val taps his lip thoughtfully as he listens.

Fovin nods to Dirigo in relief at Lathen's comment.

Sirsha tries not to sigh as she notices the huge bundle of notes.

Kassima's worried gaze darts down to her pockets, which are stuffed to
overflowing with kerchiefs. "Would've brought more if'n I'd known 'twas
going to be a speech too," she murmurs sotto voce.

Ofira blushes slightly and turns back to the class, setting her notes
carefully aside. "You should all see at your work stations, an apron for
each of you, Please put them on and ties them so that the strings will not
be in your way." She eyes J'cob's girth. "This should be easier for some
than for others."

Maylia settles down to pay attention, oblivious of all the complaints. She,
after all, is used to long lectures on history of this and that.

Fovin checks his apron ties to be sure they're not going to be bothersome.

Dirigo finds the apron and looks at how Fovin's is tied and tries to do the
same with hers.

Sirsha follows Ofira's instructions, tying the overly large apron about her
small form.

Ofira watches the SeaCrafters closely. Afterall, they should be knot tying
experts.

Ofira calls, "You too riders. If you can wear a kilt, you can wear an apron."

Maylia stifles a giggle, trying to help Sirsha shorten the neck-loop.

Fovin has wrapped the apron strings around in front and back to the back,
being small, and tied them in a neat bow knot.

Suzot is already reaching into her pack for the neatly-folded leather
apron, though she's not part of the actual /cooking/ at all.

Dirigo cranes her neck around and notices that unknowingly she tied a
square knot, she sighs as she notices it will be next to impossible to undo.

Kassima slips the apron collar over her head, tugging her braid out of the
way before turning her attention to the ties. She manages to affix them
properly, though the bow created is as ludicrously floppy as any ever seen
on one of her gifts. "There's naught wrong with wearing an apron,
Craftmaster," she quips with a faintly impish grin.

R'val slips his apron on, and tries not to contemplate what an idiotic
sight he must be in riding leathers and an apron.

Fovin winks at Dirigo, jerks one end of the square knot and slides it off
the other end neatly.

Ofira nods approvingly as the aprons go on. "Now..." she says with a
dramatic flourish of her hand. "Regard the wherry before you!" And indeed,
at each work station is a large, raw wherry, covered in feathers, skin pale
and puckery.

Sirsha gives Maylia a silent smile of thanks before turning to the wherry.

Benden Weyr> Suzot just loves Ofira. :)

Fovin regards the bird. He even sniffs it, and grimaces.

Dirigo looks before her seeing the wherry before her which she seemed to
pass up on previous inspections of the table she does what the craft master
says and regards it.

J'cob finds a workstation, and his favorite spatula. (Alright, it used to
br Ofira's.. but he stole it)

Ofira glances at Fovin, "We're here to /cook/ the wherry Fovin. Not have a
relationship with it," she says dryly.

Kassima hearks unto Ofira, and regards the wherry before her. "Looks
delicious," she murmurs. Despite the fact that the dead bird's corpse lacks
any trace of cooking, she sounds quite sincere.

J'cob laughs, "That's what Ofira is here for!"

Fovin can't help giggling. He has trouble stopping, in fact.

R'val quizzically eyes the wherry set before him, plump, juicy. Yum. A
shame he has to cook it himself. He strokes his chin thoughtfully.

Dirigo pokes the wherry with a finger, she smiles at Fovin then at Ofira
and start to giggle too.

Ofira glances at J'cob. "After all it's not ovines we're working with
tonight...now...first task is to remove the feathers..." She looks up
sharply. "Is something funny?"

Dirigo covers her mouth quickly with her small yet toughened hands.

Fovin puts a false serious look on his face quickly, and pulls
experimentally at a feather.

Suzot seems not to have heard all the bawdy joking, but watches with close
attention.

Bailey tugs gently on her father's pantleg. True concern for her parental
unit is there in the urgent soft voice, "I think you might be makin' her
mad," she informs her papa. Or perhaps she just wishes to avert conflict.

Ofira nods, "Now, everyone look at Fovin as he tries to pull out that
feather," she directs.

J'cob yanks feathers left and right, filling the air with faethers.

The feathers stubbornly refuse to leave Fovin's wherry as he tugs.

Ofira adds, "Watch very, very carefully..."

Fovin frowns as he finds the feather more difficult than he thought. He
puts two fingers beside it to hold the skin down and tries again.

Sirsha tries to watch Fovin, but a sudden feather falling on her face makes
her turn away.

Kassima coughs at Ofira's well-timed jab, raising a kerchief to her nose to
hide her grin. Fortunately, there's the saga of Fovin and the Feather
nearby to occupy her attention.

Ofira nods, "Fovin is very kindly demonstrating /exactly/ the wrong way to
go about it," she says pleasantly. "Does anyone know the /right/ way to
pluck the wherry?"

Dirigo watches Fovin for a while and desides to experiment on her own
wherry, without succes.

Fovin looks around with a scowl. He notices J'cob's success and tries to
spot the technique.

J'cob suggests, "Work from the outside, in? And don't forget to kill 'em
first."

Feathers float through the room, one landing on Ofira's dark hair,
unnoticed by the Baker.

Dirigo follows Fovin's gaze, "It must be the ruthlessness."

Fovin looks back at his wherry, feeling it to make sure it's dead.

Ofira shakes her head, failing to dislodge the feather. "No, no, no! First
- submerse the wherry in hot water to loosen the feathers!" she instructs,
indicating the basins of water at their workstations.

Suzot takes the opportunity while everyone else is plucking feathers to
remove several hide-wrapped bottles from her pack and set them on the
counter next to Ofira, who of course got to prepare her own wherry ahead of
time.

J'cob adds, 'Oh, yah. Make sure its a wherry, and not just a drunk
wingmate. Remember that time, R'val, that I trie.. oops, that was you,
wasn't it?"

Maylia impatiently brushes feathers off her face and hair, leaning to
Sirsha to quietly ask, "Isn't it a wonder more feathers don't end up served
with the wherry?"

Fovin tests the water cautiously with his little finger, jerking it back
quickly. He carefully dumps the wherry in.

Ofira nods gratefully to Suzot and helps herself to a drink. Shes' going to
need one.

"Skin, aye," Kassi can be heard to quip under her breath. "Pluck? Another
matter entirely...." She ruffles the dead wherry's feathers almost fondly,
but doesn't succeed in getting any feathers loose. "Oh," she says
intelligently, settling the poor animal's body into its watery grave.

J'cob shakes his head at the water, and adds a shot from a hip flask to the
water.

Dirigo grabs her wherry gently and plops it into the scalding water sending
hot droplets of water splashing about.

Lathen joins Ofira and Suzot. He says to his fellow crafter, "No disasters,
yet. Remember that poor smithcrafter the night we explained why you don't
use brewer's yeast?"

Fovin flinches.

Suzot leans over to caution Ofira, She mutters to Ofira, "... careful,...
wine... you clumsy... yourself."  SHe sounds so sincere.

R'val eyes J'cob, "Oh hush." He turns back and properly submerses his wherry.

Sirsha grins, having already half plucked her wherry with the ease of much
pratice.

Ofira sets down her glass of wine as wherries hit the basins and the room
is showered in water. "Now...take the tweezer next to you and remove the
feathers. It should be easier now."

Maylia stands, lifting her wherry to carry it to the water baths for it's
last swim...

Fovin fishes the wherry out of the cooling water and begins removing
feathers, having no trouble.

R'val takes up the tweezer in fingers long used to careful stitching. He
plucks at a feather with surgical precision, beaming as it plucks away more
easily than before.

Dirigo carefully dips a hand into the water testing, she then quickly
removes the wherry and starts to pluck, "Almost like scraping barnacles,"
she says to herself.

J'cob dunks his wherry, suspending him by hanging onto the wherry head.

The Training Center takes on the look of a snowy mountain as the feathers
drift lightly to the floor.

Kassima shakes the water from her fingers, wincing, before picking up the
tweezer and setting to. Experience with this she may not have, but her
fingers at least are deft enough to be suited to the task. "What d'you do
with a dead, dunked wherry, ear-ly in the morning?" she sings under her
breath.

Lathen goes over to monitor J'cob. He frowns and scratches his neck while
the rider dangles the poor creature by its head.

Dirigo returns to the main kitchen.

Ofira peers at the students through the blizzard of feathers, moving from
one to the next to offer assistance.

Bailey wanders around, her quiet presence ending up on one side of Kassima.
Sneaky poke, "'sat hurt him?" She asks of the plucking.

J'cob yanks off the few feathers he didn't yank via brute force.

R'val rip rip rips, pluckign here and there as he strips the poor dead birdie.

Ofira looks around the room at the mostly naked wherries. "Has everyone now
got his or her wherry plucked?" She lingers by R'val, "Oh, /very/ good,"
she nods to him, smiling.

Kassima stops in the middle of the shaving with a rusty knife-blade verse,
flashing the child a smile. "Nay, it doesn't hurt the creature. He can't
feel a bit, I promise you." At least, so one hopes. If he's alive, he's
going to die of shame when he realizes he's been stripped to the skin.

Lathen scratches his neck again, frowning at J'cob's technique. He gives a
small shrug and moves to look over Kassima's shoulder. He nods approvingly.

R'val beams up at Ofira with a wink, "I have a good teacher, what can I
say?" He drops the tweezer on the table as he plucks the last feather.

Sirsha nods, waiting patiently beside her long plucked wherry. She looks
disapprovingly at the mess around her, then shrugs and turns back.

Bailey still looks a tad concerned, but a nod states that she'll accept the
greenrider's explanation for now. As Lathen appears, she moves on her way,
trying not to get underfoot.

Ofira smiles at R'val, forgetting the class for a moment, "I've always said
you have excellent technique..." She stops, coughs and goes back to the
podium at the front of the room.

R'val hides his smile behind one hand at Ofira's accidental words.

Fovin nods absently to Ofira's question, studying his wherry.

Ofira brushes a few feathers off her apron. "Now, the next step is to
season the cavity," she drones didactically.

J'cob shouts, "Keep your hands off HIS buns, Ofira!"

Kassima gathers what feathers she can off in a pile to the side, setting
the tweezers on top of them. She pats the hopefully dead wherry with what
you'd swear is fondness.

Lathen finishes looking over Sirsha's carcass and says to J'cob, "You -do-
have a fascination with buns."

Someone mutters, "Season the cavity? Sounds like another one of Ofira's
little hobbies."

J'cob eyes Lathen for a moment, then asks, "Got a moment, afterwards? I'd
/love/ to discuss it with you, obviously an expert."

Fovin looks near the neck, then in back, finding two cavities.

Ofira picks up a little canister of salt and pours some in to her hand and
then buries it deep in the cavity of the bird before her. "Just take a
little salt and pepper, get your hand all the way in and rub it in..." she
demonstrates, elbow deep in the wherry.

Fovin follows Ofira's example gleefully. Another stain on his shirt.

Lathen waves his hand in J'cob's direction before going to stand by Fovin.
He says, "Use more pepper than Ofira just did. She never would listen to me
about that."

Ofira shakes her head adamantly and gestures silently behind Lathen's back
with her free hand, mouthing "No! Less pepper. More salt!"

Fovin touches his tongue to his messy hand. "There's enough pepper, I think."

J'cob grabs the canister of salt, and pours some into his hand. First, he
tosses a tad over his shoulder, into the hair of a shorter apprentice.
Then, he he adds some to the cavity. Next, some pepper. Finally, he jabs
his hand into the wherry -- saltshaker still in-hand.

Benden Weyr> Suzot is laughing her rear off. Ofira, you are a jewel in the
crown of the Bakercraft!

Kassima watches Ofira, then peers dubiously at the wherry and shakes her
head. Amused resignation registers as she salts up her hand and follows
suit. She mutters to herself, "Now... know... Garant...."

Benden Weyr> Ofira says with great dignity. "Anything to enhance the
reputation of my Craft." ;)

Lathen lifts his eyebrows to peer at Fovin. He can't see Ofira behind him.
"Enough, you think? Huh." He crosses his arms and looks determinedly at the
pepper mill.

J'cob pulls his hand out, leaving the shaker inside the wherry.

Benden Weyr> Suzot admires Ofira.

Benden Weyr> J'cob says, "She's got to--after all I've done to ruin it!"

Sirsha rolls up one of her sleeves before shaking both pepper and salt into
her hand, then mixing it so neither can be measured. She thrusts her arm
into the cavity, being sure not to miss any part.

R'val grimaces, and sticks his arm where no arm ought to go in a dead bird,
with a handful of salt and pepper in his grip, rubbing it about.

Ofira gets her arm out of the wherry, leaving it covered now in grease and
goes to wander among the students again, helping one whose arm is stuck
inside, tugging at the wherry to get it off. "Now...pull!" she instructs.

Kassima whistles to herself, sliding her hand back out in order to get an
extra pinch of salt and pepper both before returning to work. She just
*has* to pause in order to watch the student who's stuck in a wherry,
though... as this hopefully isn't the sort of thing she's going to see
every day.

J'cob puts his hand into the wherry, and tries to make a hand-puppet. He
turns the wherry to face a group of people, then starts a wherry-dance.

Suzot stays well out of the way of all this bird-stuffing, arranging her
bottles in a row.

Fovin spots motion near J'cob, and turns to watch the dancing dinner.

The student tumbles back onto the floor, as Ofira jerks the wherry free,
clutching it to her chest. "Really!" she says huffily, "If you're not going
to take this seriously..."

J'cob raises his voice, "And wherries are /far/ more serious than
anything--even Threadfall pales in comparison!"

Lathen gives up on Fovin's oversalted bird and turns to look at J'cob.
Icily, he says, "Ah, yes, the dancing wherry. Usually you have to stand in
the sun for hours to find -that- humorous."

Benden Weyr> Suzot throws her head back and guffaws. I hope someone is
logging this.

Sirsha takes her arm out of the wherry, wiping one completely greasy hand
on her apron.

Benden Weyr> Bailey is gonna head out. She's worried about her poor little
laptop overheating. So, take care. Ofira, you're beautiful. Dad, I'm never
going to speak to you once I hit puberty.

J'cob takse the wherrry over to Lathen, and holds up the head near Lathen's
head. "He has /your/ eyes, Lathen!"

Bailey falls asleep on a bench, hopefully to be retrieved by her father
before he returns home.

Ofirasighs, setting down the bird with whom she's grown all too close these
last few minutes. "No...they dont' start painting faces on them until
they've been out in the sun for a few hours..." she reminds Lathen. "The
dancing wherry only takes a basically feeble mind..."

Benden Weyr> J'cob :)

Fovin reaches to wipe his hands on his trousers, then luckily remembers his
apron.

Kassima frees her hand once more of the wherry, then blinks. "Hey! Where'd
my ring g--oh." She eyes the wherry again, then sighs and picks the poor
thing up, shaking it lightly. Out tumbles a silver puzzle ring, which Kassi
quickly puts back together and replaces on her finger.

Thera strides purposely in from the kitchen.

Bailey goes home.

Thera hides near the back.

Ofira waves a greasy arm at Thera, "Grab an apron and a wherry," she calls.

Fovin looks at the rider arriving, wondering how she'll react to the mess
of feathers and greasy hands.

Lathen looks over at J'cob with perplexity. He steps away, shaking his head
at the rider running around with a wherry on his arm like a puppet. When he
nears Ofira, he asks, "Does that one hit the wine more than he ought?"

Kassima checks over her hands to make sure that all of her jewelry has been
retrieved--Faranth forfend someone should choke on a prize left inside the
wherry--and waves cheerfully to her cousin with a greasy hand. Thera is
probably better off not imagining where that hand has been. "Heya, coz!"

R'val swipes his hands back and forth over his apron with a grimace of
distaste, then turns his attention to Ofira, after smiling a greeting at
Thera.

Caryne strides purposely in from the kitchen.

J'cob sets the wherry on his shoulder, much like a firelizard, and returns
to his table. "What next, 'Fear?"

Thera blinks. "Grab a..." her eyes focus in on the surroundings. No, this
isn't like her healer classes of yore. She takes up a bird, and finds a
table with an opening.

Fovin catches J'cob's eye and winks.

Ofira shakes her head to Lathen, "Not anymore...actually, we should talk
sometime about the possibilities of gruel in the special diet..." She
brings her attention back to her class, gazing at the motley crew with
their raggedly birds. "Well, good question J'cob. The next task is to stuff
the bird. You'l all see a bowl of stuffing, premade, next to you, Take a
handful and pack the bird /light;y/." She takes a handful and demonstrates,
stickign her hand back into the wherry.

Caryne dashes in. "Hope i'm not too late." She attempts a curtsy to the
Craftmaster, and then quickly hefts up a bird.

Lathen gives Caryne a distracted smile and nod as she enters. He goes to
the newcomer Thera and nods at her bird. "I myself plucked that one. You
need to take salt and pepper and season its cavities." He cups his pam and
shows how much he thinks ought be used.

J'cob turns the bird up-side down, and stares into it. He grabs some of the
stuffing, and sprinkles it over the wherry.

Ofira nods to Caryne, "Apprentice, please get a broom and sweep up these
feathers," she instructs, gesturing to the snowy white carpet surrounding
them.

Fovin looks at the stuffing, tastes some, and tries to spot the
ingredients. Finally he quickly stuffs the bird. He has quite a bit of
stuffing left over.

Lathen speaks up, "Oh, and don't eat the stuffing. It's got some uncooked
entrails in it." Then he turns back to watch the rider at work on her wherry.

Fovin grimaces.

Ofira goes over to J'cob, "No, no. /In/ the bird..." She grabs his hand and
tries to guide it.

Thera eyes the apprentice, and Lathen, and the wherry. "I came thru the
chill of between to stick my hand up a wherry's arse?" She looks up to
Ofira, sighs, and gets to it.

Kassima hrms, digging her still-greasy hand into the stuffing and grabbing
a decent amount. Back into the wherry she sticks her hand, boldly going
where no man--or woman--would have gone before if they were sane. Not that
this has ever been a problem for her.... "Should we try and use up all the
stuffing, Ofira?"

Thera's comment endears her to Lathen at once. He actually laughs out loud.
"Well, yes."

J'cob's hand bumps into the salt-shaker still inside the bird.

Caryne sets the bird down, and picks up a broom, begining to sweep up the
feathers into managable piles, in the corners of the room, out from under
foot.

Sirsha grabs a large handfull of stuffing, packing it into the wherry. She
quickly leans over to help a girl next to her whose stuffing stubbornly
refuses to stay in the bird.

Ofira turns to Thera as she fumbles with J'cob inside the wherry.
"No,no...the other end..."

Suzot finishes arranging her bottles in a row on the counter behind Ofira's
work station for display purposes.

R'val watches OFira and J'cob and tries not to giggle, continuing to stuff
his own wherry

Thera ooohs, and watches, paying more attention, packing away.

When Ofira comes to help Thera, Lathen drifts over to another group. He
says to Sirsha, "Ah, nice work. Not too firmly packed."

J'cob shakes the wherry violently, trying to dislodge the shaker.

Fovin sees how much stuffing Sirsha has left over, and stuffs his wherry
just a little more to match her.

Ofira goes next to examine Fovin's work, nodding, "Good...I see the
Seacraft upholds its usual standard, " she says approvingly.

Fovin grins proudly at Ofira. "You taught me to stuff spiderclaws, remember?"

Lathen speaks up in Ofira's direction, "Of course they are. They eat better
than any hold, hall, or weyr on Pern."

Kassima shrugs philosophically as it seems that Ofira's otherwise occupied,
and returns to the task at hand--pun quite intended. The ballad she sings
softly to herself now could be identified by the knowledgable as the rather
rarely-sung song, 'Dead Wherries In the Sky.'

Thera hurries a bit, to catch up with the others, and purrs a bit at the
thought of stuffed spiderclaws.

J'cob gives up, and simply pours some stuffing into the wherry, then, he
dumps the rest.

Ofira nods to Fovin begining to speak and then meets Lathen's eyes. "Better
than all save /one/." she says gently, steel in that soft voice.

Someone asks, "High Reaches Hold?"

Caryne eyes the rider who just dumped stuffing on the floor, and scoots
around him a bit, to sweep at it some.

Someone else volunteers, "Bitra's also better than Benden!"

Ofira turns to Kassima, "No...the cavity of a wherry varies in size..."
here she goes into a long monolog on statistics of wherry cavities. ""So,"
she concludes, "Just use what you need."

Lathen shakes his head at Ofira. He's muttering as he joins J'cob, "..most
stubborn apprentice.. scorched opinated .." He stops when he looks at
J'cob's wherry. "This is criminal. What are you doing?"

J'cob flashes his most innocent smile, "Stuffing! Its a wherry, not a
woman, baker."

A third person says, "I think -he- meant Seacraft, and Ofira meant her
weyr." Thanks for clarifying that.

Suzot seems to have no sense of humor at all, because she's the only one
not of the Bakercraft who's without laughter or even amusement.

Ofira mutters to herself as she returns to the podium, greasy and feather
covered, "Arrogant...unyeilding...master...cooshcoosh...my rolling pin.."

Other voices mutter: 'benden' ... 'food poisoning' ... 'gruel' ... 'buns'
... 'wine' ... 'blueriders' ... 'sharing' ... 'vomit' ... ' healers'

Kassima listens to the statistics with what looks to be honest-to-goodness
interest. "Ahh, I see. Thanks, Craftmaster." Hum-de-dum. Just a pinch more
stuffing, and she sets the wherry down, finally getting a chance to wipe
off her begreased hand and arm.

Caryne sweeps herself on out of the room.

Ofira takes a deep breath, back at her lecturn and pours another drink for
herself from Suzots' collection of bottles. "There is one further step
before the wherries are ready for the oven. They must be rubbed with oil or
melted butter, to ensure even browning. There are advantages to each
one...Lathen..what is your preference?" she asks smoothly.

Lathen peers at J'cob for a long moment. Finally, he says, "Wherries don't
grow on trees, Rider. Well, no, I take that back. They -roost- in trees,
but you can't just walk out of your hold and find them there for the
taking. There are people starving right now in Lemos, you know. And here
you are playing with your food."

Caryne moves into the barracks.

Lathen hms? as he hears his name. Turning with distraction to Ofira, he
says, "Oil, of course. Butter chars more readily."

J'cob shrugs, "If it'd help, I could fly this one to Lemos. But I don't
know any starving Lemosians. Now, Seacrafters-they're starved.."

R'val regards Ofira with deep curiousity as he waits for instructions. As
further ones are issued, he listens.

Ofira nods to Lathen and then says to the class, attempting to maintain the
poise and dignity appropriate to a CraftMaster, despite her new feather
hairdo. "We'll be using melted butter of course...just take some in your
hand and rub it over the breast of the bird. " She looks directly at J'cob,
flexing her frying pan hand, just in case.

Lathen turns back to J'cob. He shakes his head at the man, then frowns at
Ofira.

R'val does as Ofira instructs, slathering on generous amounts of butter
onto the bird's chest.

J'cob takes a handful of butter, and asks tentitively, "If I do good with
the bird, can I try you next, Ofira? I hear butter makes your skin soft!
You've been looking awful scaly since you started bathing so much with Uri."

Fovin looks puzzled. "What advantages does butter have, Master Ofira?"

Ofira demonstrates, rubbing melted butter over the wherry, spreading it in
a thin even layer. "Not quite so much R'val, " she cautions. She answers
Fovin, "It adds a great deal more flavor than oil."

Fovin nods and starts buttering his wherry. He covers it well, but tries
not to put on so much that it drips.

Sirsha grins, buttering the wherry carefully in her 'just so' way. She
takes a minute to speak up towards Ofira, "What about flavored oils?"

Kassima stretches out her fingers, wriggling them for a moment before
scooping up some butter and rubbing it between her hands. She then proceeds
to give the wherry a butter massage, smoothing the stuff over its plucked
and pinked hide.

Lathen dismisses J'cob, particularly after his last comment, and says to
Fovin, "If you like the taste of ash." The master baker goes over to Ofira.

Ofira turns sharply and glares at J'cob, mouthing "Later for you.." with
clearly implied threat and then answers Sirshas' question, "I find that the
flavoered oil cooks off too much and doesnt' have the richness of the
butter. Nor the salt."

Fovin glances from Lathen to Ofira, but obviously intends to follow Ofira's
instructions.

R'val smiles at Ofira's instructions, nodding as he applies less of the
precious butter, watching the breast gleam smoothly.

Sirsha nods, turning the wherry this way and that to be sure she doesn't
miss a single spot.

Ofira looks aroudn the room, nodding. "Very well..." she says, looking at
the wherries in various degrees of lubrication. "Time to put them in the
oven." She gestures for some apprentices to come forward to take the birds.
No way is she letting this crew near the ovens.

Kassima finishes buttering up her bird fairly quickly; it's amazing what a
great deal of practice at oiling 'lizards by hand can do. She eyes the
smooth coating of butter rather critically, glancing over to the other
examples to compare.

Lathen says to Ofira, "You're teaching them to cook as if they were working
in the kitchens of a Lord Holder, preparing meals for Himself and His Lady.
Who can afford the butter it takes to baste a wherry?"

Ofira sets a greasy hand at her hip, "The small amount of butter needed
hardly costs more. And I believe in teaching it properly, even if
substitutions need to be made later. Their writtne instructions indidcate
the possible substitutions." she snaps back.

Apprentices edge around Lathen and Ofira , carrying off the wherries in a
solomn procession.

Lathen shakes his head. "It costs more when you're cooking..." He stops
abruptly and frowns down at the counter. The man takes a deep breath, then
lifts one shoulder.

Ofira takes a deep breath, finishes her glass of wine and turns to the
students. "We will now have a presentation on the proper wines to serve
with roast wherry, by winecraft apprentice Suzot." She gestures for Suzot
to come to the lecturn.

Kassima bows her head in respect to the corpses being borne past so solemnly.

R'val licks his lips, eyes widening at the mention of wine.

Fovin wipes his hands and forearms and attends to the presentation.

Kassima looks up at the mention of wine, absently scrubbing her hands
against her apron.

Ofira steps aside to make room for Suzot.

Suzot stands again and lifts one of the bottles. "Thank you, Craftmaster
Ofira." Without further introduction she begins. "Benden Red is the
favorite wine of most of Pern, with a smoothe mellowness which matures in
the mouth and a moderate alcohol content. Look for pressings done in the
midsummer months, aged at least till autumn but preferably to midwinter or
even spring." She presents the bottle, passing it around while explaining.
"The date will be in the upper right-hand corner of the label." She hands
it to Ofira first. "Go ahead and pass it along, looking for the various
markings."

The tantalizing aroma or roasting wherry drifts through the room as Suzot
begins her talk.

R'val listens, though being a Bende bluerider, he knows all of this off by
heart.

Fovin winces at Suzot's comment about the Benden, being a Seacrafter.

Lathen listens with approval to Suzot.

Ofira nods, examining the bottle with interest and then hands it to Sirsha
who is closest to her.

Ofira nods to Suzot as she passes on the bottle.

Kassima listens also, interest in both the wine and in getting her hands
clean enough not to smear the bottle renewed.

Sirsha takes the bottle, then watches curioulsy as a small blue flit blinks
in. "I'm sorry," she says, getting up, "D'ver must have to get back the the
Weyr."

Lathen takes the bottle. For a split second, he considers attempting to
stash it away somewhere. In the end, he hands it on to R"val.

Lathen smiles at Sirsha. "Thanks for coming. Remember... more pepper and
use oil." This last is said under his breath.

Ofira nods to Sirsha, "It was nice to meet you. Hope to see you here
again," she smiles.

Sirsha nods and smiles as she leaves.

Sirsha returns to the main kitchen.

The smell of the wherries is nearly overpowering now in its mouth-watering
intensity.

Ofira smiles, inhaling deeply, "Those birds must be nearly done," she smiles.

R'val inhales the fragrance of roasting bird and smiles, "I'd say so."

Suzot explains the markings and then goes on to three more bottles of
various kinds of wines, then sits so that Ofira can continue her lesson.

Apprentices begin to carry out the finished wherries, gleaming brown and
fragrant, skin crisp, perfectly done. They distribute them to the students,
neatly wrapped for carrying home.

By the time Suzot finishes her discussion of the various vintages, Lathen
is thoroughly impressed with her professionalism and knowledge. When she
resumes her seat, he makes his way over and attempts to speak quietly to
her. "Under whose tutelage did you say you studied?"

R'val inhales deeply of the scent wafting from his cooked bird, beaming,
"Fancy supper in our weyr tonight, luv?" he winks at Ofira.

Kassima dabs absently at her nose with a kerchief, unable to smell the
wherry scent. Of course, this does mean she's not distracted from the wine
lecture. "Oh, how lovely," she breathes upon seeing the wherry. "Why, it
looks even better than it did raw."

Fovin takes 'his' wherry and tries to unwrap it a little, non-destructively.

Well, all the birds except one. An apprentice approaches Ofira and says,
"The bird of the rider-gentleman didn't come out, Ma'am. One side wasn't
basted, apparently, and there was too much stuffing, so that the center
didn't get cooked. And,well, there was a salt shaker in it, too."

Ofira gets to her feet. "Thank you very much Suzot - that was very
informative," she nods, also impressed. She turns to the students, "I hope
you've all learned something useful tonight," she says formally, still
bedecked in feathers. "Thank you all for coming, and Ihope to see you here
again next sevenday." she concludes, stepping down from the podium;

Ofira frowns slightly, drawing the apprentice off to one side to discuss
the matter.

Suzot had left the bottles as a gift to the Bakercraft for allowing her to
fulfill her teaching requirements. To Lathen, she replies, clasping her
hands behind her back, She mutters to Lathen, "... studied at the...
Crafthall, not the... under... Journeyman... two... ago." 

Fovin takes the bottle of Tillek Red. "No one wants this, do they?"

Ofira nods to the apprentice, leaving him to present J'cob with the half
raw bird and goes over to R'val. 'Not bad at all," she says, looking at his
wherry.

"Nay I," Kassi states firmly, looking up for a moment from her wherry. She
reaches back to untie her apron, managing the overly-loose knot with no
trouble.

Lathen is listening to Suzot as the students are leaving. He says, "Well,
your training has been excellent, obvious..." He stops to tell Fovin, "Just
set that right back there with the others."

Fovin says "I thought nobody liked Tillek except at Tillek or the Seacraft."

Ofira smiles, "I have quite the fondness for Tillek myself, after my time
at the SeaCraft. Benden wines are too rich, if you ask me."

Fovin puts the bottle back hastily and returns to his wherry. He has
unwrapped the front and torn off a foreleg to taste, burning his fingers.

Lathen says in answer, "Those are a gift from the winecraft to the
bakercraft, and there are bakers Pern-over who revere all Pern's vintages."
Pompous, as usual, but truthful.

Fovin shrugs. "I didn't think I'd get away with it, but it was worth a try."

Ofira nods to Lathen, "perhaps we should leave them here at the center to
use in teaching."

Lathen grins at Ofira, "No, let's divide them between ourselves." He then
turns his attention back to Suzot. "As I was saying, your training is superb."

Fovin gets a gleam in his eye at that comment.

Ofira nods, bowing to Lathen's wisdom and goes to look over the bottles.

Kassima shudders lightly at every mention of Tillek as she folds up her
apron and sets it neatly to one side. If that messy garment caked with
wherry-grease, feathers, and butter can be called 'neat', anyway. "I'm
going t'have t'find a good place to put this, if'n I don't want to look up
and find it eaten by the Swarm," she muses to herself.

Fovin happily chews on the foreleg of his wherry. "Mmmm...."

J'cob unidles.

J'cob ahms, "So, Ofira, are we done?"

Ofira nods to J'cob, untying her apron and preparing to go, as kitchen
drudges enter and begin to clean up.

J'cob nods, setting his wherry down, and waves, "I'll be back to the weyr.
You take care, 'Fear."

Fovin rewraps his wherry and takes off his apron. He leaves, hugging his
wherry like a baby.

Kassima looks to Suzot, tugging her sleeves back down and picking up her
wherry. "Ready to head back?"

Ofira nods and considers the apology she'll owe Maarie for that wherry.
"Thank you for the ride here J'cob."

Lathen removes his apron and moves out of the way so the cleaning crew can
do its work.

Fovin returns to the main kitchen.

J'cob winks, "Don't mention it--especially to R'val!" And with that, he
leaves.

J'cob returns to the main kitchen.

R'val stands, the wherry in his arms, smiling at OFira, "Do you want to go
home now?"

Ofira nods tiredly to R'val, "I think so, yes." She goes to hug Lathen
goodnight.

R'val smiles, "I'll be outside then, dear!"

R'val returns to the main kitchen.

Lathen gives Ofira a tight hug and says something quietly to her.

The apprentices have packaged up the divided bottles of wine for the two
master crafters.

Ofira smiles, holding the hug a touch longer. "I think - yes, maybe, so,"
she nods and hurries out.

Ofira returns to the main kitchen.

Lathen waves once more to the others, gets his bottles, and goes out.

Lathen returns to the main kitchen.

Kassima waves absently to the Craftsecond, as late as usual. "Listen, I'd
best get this bird settled while 'tis still warm. I'll be outside; c'mon
out when you're ready, eh?" With a brief smile, she turns and heads outside.

You leave the training center for the relative calmness of the main kitchen.