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Rinath's First Clutching:  The Saga Begins


Date:  March 19, 2000
Place:  Telgar Weyr's Galleries
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:  Gold Rinath begins to clutch; Kassi begins (or continues,
anyway) to take bets, and the spectators begin to banter.  This log 
covers the first thirteen eggs of the clutch, and the color-guessing 
and teasing associated therewith. :)

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The Log:

You walk off towards the Galleries.

From the hatching sands, Rinath rumbles softly, dragging her gravid belly
towards the center of the sands. She looks up at Taralyth, neck arched
playfully, ready to start this latest game. She makes a great production
out of selecting the perfect spot. This will after all be her first egg
ever and it has to be just right. She finally begins to dig a shallow
depression in the sands, but it's not quite right. She abandons it and
begins to pace restlessly across the sands.

Jasanik strides into the galleries, whistling quietly. Tucked snuggly under
one arm is a large bundle, most likely a blanket of sorts from the
appearance of the rolled fabric, and covering his head is a tobogan of
sorts. The woven wool continues to slip over the young man's eyes and he
constantly shoves it up. After a moment of indecision on the man's part, he
takes a seat amongst the congregating weyrfolk that have been so shortly
alerted to the gold's actions.

Kassima doesn't walk so much as scramble in at a rapid waddle, arms full of
rolled up hides, writing accoutrements, and whatnot. "Shardit, shardit,
shardit, shardit," she chants, throwing herself and her armload into a seat
with a prime view. "They need t'start giving me more *warning*, I swear."

From the hatching sands, Taralyth's head swings, tracking his queen. This
way, that way, the other way, it matters - knot, as he peers back under his
wing again.

I'sai walks in from outside the room.

Takar walks in from outside the room.

A'lex looks over at Kassima, "Get a good number of bets?"

From the hatching sands, Saskia watches Rinath intently, but stays out of
her way. "Shards, the sands are warmer than I remember than being as a
candidate and I know they're only going to get warmer." she murmurs then
calls over to Rinath "Come on, love. All these folks have come out to watch
you."

Neliea walks in from outside the room.

Takar quietly follows I'sai in, nodding to those present as he looks about
for a good place to sit.

I'sai takes the stairs cautiously and sloshingly, much of his drowsiness
swept away by the cold wind. He hesitates once out of the latter - and
barely sidestepping Takar in time - pale eyes first finding the dragons on
the sands, then lifting to the galleries' heights.

Daryam sits down watching Rinath with intent intrest.

Jasanik wiggles into his seat and leans back, unfurling the large blanket
and spreading it over his ever so lanky legs. Toes wiggle out from under
and the young man watches the people stumble...shuffle... sometimes even
scramble up and down the bleachers. A few people settle around Jak, and it
isn't long before the chatter begins, those exchanging a few last bets. Jak
clears his throat and says, "I bet the first one's an egg." A few people
pause in their conversation to turn and peer at him.

A'lex catches the eye of the young bronzerider whose lifemate is on the
sands, "Good luck, Bronzer." He smiles.

"Um...." Kassi rummages amongst her nest of scrolls and hides for a moment,
only succeeding in making a further mess. "Aye," she reports once she's
found the appropriate list. "But I'm more anxious about taking down *color*
guesses and whatnay. Faranth's flaming fewmets on a fork. Could you hold
these for me a moment, 'Lex? Oh, hey, Is--Taralyth have any predictions?" A
pause, and then she belatedly remembers to add, "G'deve to everyone, too."

From the hatching sands, Suddenly, Rinath's sides begin to heave. She stops
and blinks as if unsure exactly what's happening, but instincts take over,
and slowly her first egg is deposited onto the hot sands as Taralyth bugles
proudly as if this was the first egg ever laid and perhaps it is for him.

From the hatching sands, 
Dance of the Shadows Egg--
At first glance this egg is simply a mottled gray, a closer inspection
would reveal the truth to be not so simple, or mundane. Shadows dance
across the pale gray background, their shapes distorted and sinister. A
jagged, deep black silhouette, looking like so many teeth in gaping maw
lurks on the surface of the egg as if lying in wait for the smaller
shadows, writhing like a pit of tunnelsnakes at the bottom of the egg. The
top is chaos, wild, blind flight, colliding and falling, the raucous
screeches almost audible.

A'lex grins. He says softly,"Congratulations Rinath."

Daryam grins excitedly and applauds softly.

From the hatching sands, Saskia beams over at Rinath "Beautiful!" though
the egg hardly is. She trips over to the egg and peers down at it, looking
up at her lifemate as if permission, then slowly reverently reaches out to
touch its flaccid shell.

Jeymian slips in, standing at an unobtrusive distance from the gathering
knot of people; she nods to those who glance towards her, eyes cast down on
the sands' length. "Good eve," is quietly echoed back to Kassima's general
greeting, before Rinath's movement captures her attention.

Takar ducks around I'sai, and finds himself a spot in the third row, barely
paying attention to the other observers, staring down at the sands with a
small smile and a gleam of anticipation in his eyes.

I'sai flicks another look upward, and a call to Kassima - only it's
bugle-drowned, and in those echoes he dares his own quiet footsteps down,
down to the sands' very edge.

I'sai steps down from the galleries.

Neliea clamers quietly up the stairs with a hasty hand smoothing out her
hair just in time to see the first egg on the sands. Not willing or wanting
to edge towards the front, she smiles and perches on a nearby seat to 
watch.

Many people in the stands begin the traditional ooing and ahing as the gold
lays her first egg. Jak turns and peers at the sands and soon his eyes pick
up what the commotion is about. "Well lookee there. I was right." A young
man, close to his age and close to his seat cuffs Jasanik on the arm. The
two laugh and they lean back, watching and chattering quietly amongst the
others that have gathered to watch the clutching of the gold.

Kassima peeks out from amidst the paperwork. "Green," she declares after a
moment, sounding vaguely pleased. "If'n that's nay a green egg, I'll eat
one of m'lizards without sauce. *Down*, hides." A shame she lacks a whip to
crack at them, but she eventually manages to fight the lists and rosters
into a semblance of order.

From the hatching sands, Saskia looks up at I'sai, eyes shining "Look at
this beauty!" Rinath rumbles softly and flicks some sand at her lifemate as
she piles sand carefully around her first egg. Saskia takes the hint and
steps away, giving the queen a little space.

From the hatching sands, As if to compensate for her first rather botched
attempt at laying, Rinath goes back to a shallow depression she dug earlier
and packs it into a perfect oval. She lays the egg and hovers above
protectively, not letting anyone see until Saskia smiles and says "Come on,
silly. You've got plenty more to lay." With an exaggerated sigh, she moves
away, revealing her second egg.

From the hatching sands, 
Shimmering Spun Starlight Egg--
Across a backdrop of roiling, inky blue, thin chains of diamonds crisscross
and entwine; argent spangles gleam like tiny stars, strung together to form
a strand that in turn weaves itself into a loose tapestry. These
crystallized dewdrops reflect a cold, wan radiance into the viewer's
eye--shining in defiance of the shadow, glistening in the darkness. Warm it
as the Sands might, this egg suggests nevertheless the cool temperatures of
that time just before dawn, when the sun has not yet had time to banish the
chill brought by night's caressing touch.

Jasanik pauses in his chattering to peer over at Kassima, "I beg your
pardon, ma'am... but did you just say that you'd -eat- one of your
'lizards?" One eyebrow lifts into a broken arch as he carefully lets the
words roll off his tongue.

From the hatching sands, I'sai hesitates, then leaves the waterskins on the
last stone step, crossing the treshold onto the sands proper; his footsteps
track just off her own prints' path. "...Sticky," he says back, but
smilingly so, as if he can't quite stop.

Jeymian edges slightly towards Kassima, who, since she's running the
betting, is judged to be the authority. "Blue?" the girl hazards, her eyes
first on Rinath's second egg, and then flicking shyly on the greenrider; --
"How often do the shell's color reflect what's inside?"

"And that one," Kassi decides, scribbling rapidly onto a mostly-blank hide,
"is blue... argh. Who's bloody well *ma'aming* me? Nay ma'aming! Word gives
me hives--the name's Kassima, green Lysseth's, and that'll do." She flashes
a brief grin over to lighten her words, then affirms, "Aye, and *without*
sauce. That's how sure I am. 'Twill Hatch a green just as sure as stars." A
beam to Jeymian, then. "Blue, right! I don't know how oft they reflect,
i'truth--Lysseth's egg was blood red, and she hasn't a hint of that shade
on her."

A'lex walks off towards the Central Bowl.

The corners of Jasanik's mouth twitch with amusement as he supresses a
smile while watching Kassima's actions. He chuckles a little and says,
"Well met, Kassima, green Lysseth's," stating the entire title, most likely
an action of sarcasm rather than disrespect, "I'm Jasanik, but everyone
calls me Jak." He looks out at the sands to watch the newest of the eggs a
moment before he turns his head back to the greenrider to address her once
more, "If you say that one's green, I say it's brown." Challenge?

Xachael comes running in all smiles. He heads straight for Kassima and tugs
on her sleve, "Auntie ma'am!? Are those Rinath's eggs out there??"

Takar ignores the betting for the most part, and leans forward slightly,
watching the clutching intently.

Jenni walks in from outside the room.

Kassima slants Jasanik just a hint of a *look*. But she retains a perfectly
amiable tone as she replies, "Well met, then, Jasanik. How many marks are
you willing t'be placing on it, then?" The last word is nearly broken off
as her attention turns to Xachael. With a mixture of amusement and
exasperation: "Can't you ever just call me Auntie Kassi instead, Xach? Aye,
Rinath's clutching her lot. A green and a blue so far. Aren't they pretty?"

From the hatching sands, Whuffing softly, Rinath wanders to the side
furthest away from the galleries and looks over at Saskia a bit defiantly.
Her long tail swirls in the sand. She's just going to sit right here,
pretty as you please. But the eggs must be laid, and soon a third egg joins
the others on the sands. Rinath sniffs at it curiously before revealing it
to the onlookers.

From the hatching sands, 
Fish Season Egg--
Something's fishy about that egg. The illusion of scales disguises one
angle, its lustrous silver-gray lent shifting, shifty highlights of briny
yellow and blue as if it were very much alive, as if some winter afternoon
a seacrafter hadn't claimed the biggest catch of his career. It's when the
angle shifts that the hook appears, rare metal scratched to dullness within
the scales' sheen, the narrow line curving across the shell to sink its
barb in the fleshy-seeming base; and as for the rest, there's no record of
flopping and gutting, of the eyes gone cloudy in death: just the
translucent pink fillet with its treacherous, hair-fine bones.

Xachael squeals as the next egg arrives on the sand, "OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
Auntie Kassima'am!! LOOOOOOOOK!"

From the hatching sands, Saskia grins back at I'sai "Thanks for bringing
the waterskins." then laughs "Look, she laid another gray one." she steps
rapidly over to this latest egg and inspects it even as Rinath whuffs it
again, barely allowing Saskia to see it.

"That one's a brown," Jeymian decides, squinting her eyes as if that'd
bring the egg closer for a better look; she quiets, waiting to here what
verdict the other jury members will rule for the egg's occupant.

Takar studies the third egg carefully. "There's an odd one," he remarks, to
noone in particular.

Corla walks in from outside the room.

Jasanik peers around Kassi at the young person and this time the grin
breaks through, his eyes glinting with amusement at Xachael's reference to
Kassima. His gaze however is quickly drawn away by the address of the sands
and he looks over the newly laid orb. Picking up on Takar's comment, he
notes his agreement on the matter, "Indeed it is. Interesting markings... I
wonder if they'll change as it dries?" He then turns and gives Kassima a
level gaze, "I'm but a simple handyman, so I've not much to spare, but I do
have perhaps a 1/32 of a mark that I could put on the line."

From the hatching sands, Taralyth snakes his head up and over for his own
look, as best he can, though headknobs tilt decidedly upward at Xachael's
exclamation. "Gray," agrees his rider, pausing in his circling to crouch
and re-lace his boots. "Though ... and everything's all right, that you're
seeing, isn't it?"

Neliea knows better than to even look like she's going to place a bet,
moving to perch one booted foot on the seat in front of her. "Or maybe
another blue," she comments off handedly, stifling another grin at Kassi's
ma'am'ing issues.

Kassima's eardrums quietly explode? Well, no, but her wince suggests that
they came close. "I see it, Xach," she replies a bit faintly. "I see. 'Tis
green... or blue... but methinks green, more like than nay. 'Tis a bit of a
fishy one, I'd say. A thirty-second?" Somehow, she manages to keep the
corner of her mouth from twitching more than once. "I believe I could be
meeting that."

Xachael looks up at Jasanik, "Hi. I'm Xach. Telgar'sdutiestoyou," breath,
"andyourqueens."

Corla wanders into the galleries brushing a bit of dust off her clothes,
before her attention is drawn to the sands, "Beastcrafters duties to Telgar
and her Queens, " she calls by way of introduction.

Jenni makes a face as she's pushed out of the way by some hulking Crom boy
and stumbles back as the elbow catches her in the ribs, "ouch!" She snarls
a low oath that the dimglow obvously doesn't hear as he continues to fan
his arms about.

Jasanik grins broadly at Xachael and he leans over, resting one elbow on
his knee and gripping his left wrist with his right hand. "Well, nice to
meet you, Xach. And thank you kindly for that greeting. Dakana Hold's
duties to Telgar and her queens, clutching or not." He flashes a crooked
smile to the young man before his right hand releases his wrist and fishes
around in a deep pocket. After much fidgeting and wiggling in his seat, he
produces the small item of wood. He looks over at Kassima, "I trust you'll
hold the marks until we find out who wins?"

Neliea glances towards Corla, inclining her head in greeting. "And Telgar's
duties to the Beastcraft," she returns in greeting towards the young girl.

"I could," Kassi allows. "Or I can come and collect m'winnings from you
afterwards--or pay, as the case may be--if'n you'd rather nay be trusting a
stranger with your mark. Duties to the Herders and their Master, 
Apprentice!"

Xachael grins broadly, his silver eyes glinting. He whispers to Kassima,
"Auntie Kassima'am? Is that your new weyrmate?"

Takar turns a distracted glance back towards the rest of the gallery,
offers a smile to everyone, then turns back, absorbed in his observations.

From the hatching sands, Rinath strides over to the center of the sands.
This one will be perfect. Her talons dig deeply in the sands. Her neck
arches proudly. Her wings flutter as with great ceremony she lays this egg.
She covers it briefly with her wings then slowly unfurls them to reveal her
latest egg.

From the hatching sands, 
Rhinestones And Satin Egg--
Round as the fat belly of an overbearing has-been entertainer, this white
egg seems stuffed full of itself on the laurels of past achievements, with
no new prospects in sight. Perhaps not even that. Perhaps it's only the
promise of such enviable things. The surface seems to strain, as if a bit
too full, but this could easily be overlooked in the starlight sparkles
that make up flowing patterns across the shell. The glittering stones of
the Minercraft would be hard pressed to rival the apparent shine and
glimmer of the phantasmal gems that whirl and twist over the satin-like
surface.

Jenni crosses her arms over her chest after waving to those she knows and
takes a seat, trying to keep away from swinging arms from now on.

Jasanik's smile drops at the comment and his cheeks soon flush with a
blush. He licks his lips nervously and quickly tries to reinforce the now
nonexistant smile. He clears his throat and runs one hand through his
shaggy hair. "Well, lovely clutching, isn't it?" he asks, sucking at his
lips a moment, drawing them into a thin line before bobbing his head to his
own question. He watches the eggs, letting the two family members converse
on the matter.

Corla looks over to Kassima, "Kassima isn't it? I think we met once
before," she glances back at the sands, "And another one,"

See Kassima. See Kassima turn a cheerful shade of red. See Kassima cover
her eyes with one hand, probably smudging one lid with charcoal in the
process. "Xach, I don't *have* a weyrmate, I've never had a weyrmate,
'twill never have a weyrmate, and if'n I had a weyrmate, he'd be a rider.
So methinks I can say with all due assurance that the answer is nay." She
peeks out between her fingers. "Blue? Blue. Aye, Apprentice, so we have.
When you slimed I'sai."

M'kon walks in from outside the room.

Corla laughs, "That was it, wasn't it? His dragons the clutch sire of this
lot isn't he?"

Jeymian's eyes go slightly wide. "A white egg!" she exclaims unnecessarily,
as if everyone's gazes weren't already fixated on the sands. "Lovely," she
agrees with Jasanik, taking a moment in contemplation. "I'd say that could
be a bronze in there."

From the hatching sands, Taralyth reflects the new-laid egg in
fast-spinning eyes, facet by facet fragmenting it into bits of blued white
like individual sequins. After a moment's sniff, he drops back to his
haunches where he can better watch the others as well, tail a sharply
repeated flick behind him.

M'kon comes trotting in, almost tripping over the steps as he's got his
eyes on the Sands, and probably the eggs.

Xachael dances around like a chile who really needs to use the latrine. His
gaze is locked on the sands, staring at Rinath's backside. "Nice tail," he
says, oblivious to the REAL meaning of the phrase. He must be hanging
around L'cher too much.

From the hatching sands, Saskia beams at Rinath and inspects this latest
egg. "This one's a lovely sparkly white." She crouches down and gently
touches its fat fullness "Perhaps this one has a bronze, and the greys are
blues." she muses. Then she rises to her feet, and smiles warmly to I'sai
"Yes, everything's fine." She walks over to him and whispers something
softly to him.

If Jasanik had been born a canine, his ears would be ontop of his head, and
perked to a full vertical when he picks up on Jeymian's comment. He turns
and looks at her, smiling, "Bronze? Ya think? Why do you say?" he inquires,
tilting his head and turning to look back at the orbs on the sands.
"Kinda... small, doncha think?"

Kassima bobs her head, uncovering her eyes and knuckling at the smudged
lid. "'Tis so. That's him out there, y'see--it *could* be bronze;
Benden-blooded bronzes tend t'be coming from white eggs. Methinks blue,
though--Xachael! You shouldn't admire the rumps of other species in public.
Faranth afire, but you're taking after Nraith in very deed."

Jenni lifts her hand and waves to M'kon, "howdy there."

M'kon comes flopping down next to Kassima, intersposing himself between her
and whoever's next to her with a 'Pardon'...it'd help if he weren't nearly
bronze-sized himself. "How many?" As if he couldn't count the handful for
himself.

Xachael grins, "Nraith says Rinath has a nice tail. Uncle L'ch says YOU do,
Auntie ma'am." He returns his eyes to the sands, running a small hand
through his curly red hair. "It's hot in here." Sigh.

From the hatching sands, I'sai looks; doesn't touch. Doesn't even move to
touch, though he presses hands just above his knees to support a forward
lean. "Which is which, does it mat- " he breaks off to nod to her softer
words, mouth a wry hook which he twists into a brighter, tooth-showing
smile. "How's that?"

Kassima pulls a few of her hides back onto what little remains of her lap
in order to make room. "Four," she reports, "two green and two blue. Though
that last *could* be bronze. Could be. Going t'be making any wagers?"
Oh-oh. There's that flush again. "Remind me t'be having a *word* with Uncle
L'cher," she mutters.

Xachael bobbles his little head around, "Okay. I'll tell you tomorrow, okay
Auntie?" Of course he's not paying attention to see if she responds or not.

Jeymian beams. "She -- " pointing towards the sands, and with a respectful
nod for Saskia, "said the same! Might be a bronze." Blue eyes regard
Jasanik, their golden brows lifting towards her forehead, "I don't know.
It's just -- I've heard that bronze eggs are distinctive, and what's more
so than white?" she shrugs, a casual gesture. "Not small. It's
quite...round, if you look hard enough."

M'konohs a bit, as he finally takes in the grouping of eggs, then says on
the last , "Wait and see if uh...there are any more white eggs... before
you guess on that one...Taralyth shows his Igen blood a lot...though
Rinath's almost pure for the old Benden...isn't she?" He looks to Kassima
for confirmation on that, as she is the fount of all draconic bloodline
knowledge. "But it is awful strained looking...."

Jasanik mms quietly, "Gold, but we all know what's in eggs that have that
coloration." He grins and winks before turning to look back at Xachael. The
pink tongue darts out again to lick drying lips and he clears his throat
before asking the young man, "I don't attend many clutchings, Xach. Tell
me... are they always this warm inside the hatching caverns?"

Xachael nods, "Nraith's egg was white with little eyes on it. Bronzes like
white eggs."

From the hatching sands, Saskia grins at I'sai, her smile huge. She laughs
"Well, for one thing, Rinath's stopped grumbling that she's so egg heavy
and for another, these are future dragonets. Don't tell me you really are
a..." She says whatever it is too quietly for the galleries to hear.
"...that you can't find joy in that."

Kassima closes her eyes for a moment, and begins to recite. "Rinath, out of
Herath by Talibenth; Talibenth, out of Neith by Habrith; Habrith, out of
Neith by Kailyth; Kailyth and Neith, out of Isadith by Rodrith; Isadith out
of Zaerith by Valenth; Valenth out of Iriniath by Pyreth... Iriniath being
Bendenite, a'course. And Daelyth's descended from Iriniath, too, so i'truth
you can nigh consider Taralyth and Nioth both fully of Benden blood. The
Galleries are *bloody* hot. Does anyone want juice or the like? I brought a
pair of 'skins, just in case."

Jeymian blinks full at Kassima, as the greenrider starts to rattle off
turns of draconic heritage. Said softly, "Wow," then, "how do you know all
that?"

From the hatching sands, Rinath sits quietly for a few minutes, resting for
a spell. Then abruptly she resumes her restless pacing. An egg seems to
drop mid-stride. She stops with a surprised warble and noses it carefully,
coating it with sand before she sits back, surveying her handiwork and
allowing all to see her latest egg.

From the hatching sands, 
Caramel Desert Egg--
The top and bottom of this large egg glitter faintly with a milky-white
dusting of mica. A lively mix of caramel flows over the remaining distance
like sand dunes and rock, viewed from far, far above. The sandy desert has
come to the sands, leaving its gritty texture on the surface of this shell.

M'kon is caught thinking on the subject of bloodlines, when he asks,
"Wasn't Vaeth Aurelinth and uh....Zyrieth---" It's cut off by the arrival
of another egg.

Jasanik pauses in his viewing of the clutch and slowly turns his head to
peer at Kassima. "So... what do -you- do for fun?" Eyebrows lift quickly
and then drop with equal speed as he sighs and turns his body, letting his
spine pop once, and then twice. He rolls his head and then looks back out
on the sands, "Now -that's- a nice egg there." He pauses and a look of
contemplation covers his features brow furrowing and nose wrinkling, "Then
again, they're all nice."

Takar gives a contented smile. "I like that one," he muses. "Brown, maybe?"
this directed back at Kassima and her lot.

M'kon says after he gets his brain back..."Daelyth's sire was a Reaches
dragon, wasn't he? At least by clutch? Brown sire too?"

Xachael jumps up, "Oh! Ohohoh! Looooook! That one looks like a treat that
Auntie 'Fira would make!" He turns around to see if anyone ELSE thinks
that. "I really like treats." Pause. "A lot!"

Kassima laughs quietly, tapping one temple. "Memorization, mostly. Knowing
the bloodlines helps in betting, and I've an interest in the Benden
blood--in the Benden blood of Igen, too, with Valenth m'Lysseth's sire.
Vaeth was Aurelinth and Zyrieth, but nay Valenth--" Fortunately, the
arrival of the newest egg ends her spiel. "Brown! Brown, i'truth!" A toothy
smile is then slid towards Jasanik. "Throw knives, mostly. Why?"

From the hatching sands, Taralyth tosses his dark head upward on the echoes
of her warble, with a sudden eye for the ledges, the galleries, as if to
question whether they're paying enough attention to his queen, their
growing clutch - and to greet, as well. His rider looks after, more slowly;
says out of the corner of his mouth, "Right, but color, predicting what's
what... isn't it enough they're -there-?" and only then turns back to see
with his own eyes, and add with a twinkle in them that proves the joke,
"Not gray."

Takar grins at Xachael. "I like treats too," he confides with a wink.

Jenni turns to Takara, rousting herself from her egg-dreams and smiles to
him, "Do you really think so? Brown?" She squints at the egg, not having
put a color inside it just yet.

M'kon grins at Jasanick at Kassima's answer, with a slightly apologetic 
grin.

Xachael glances at Takar warily. "I'm not supposed to take treats from
strangers." He extends his hand, "I'm Xachael. Watcha got?"

From the hatching sands, Saskia looks up towards the galleries and takes a
deep breath, then looks back down agan. "True, but it's fun to speculate.
Kassi makes a lot of money from the betting." She doesn't move to touch
this latest egg, but merely comments to I'sai with a smile "Another large
one. Reminds me of Taralyth's flight over Igen."

Corla glances down at the egg, "I say green, It looks like a green egg,"

Jasanik chatters with someone until Kassima answers his question. When a
person is already pale, it's rather rare that you'll see them turn blue.
However, Jasanik proceeds to do so with unabashed ease. Large eyes lid,
then unlid as he blinks over at Kassima and rolls the answer off his
tongue, "Throw knives... as in those sharp steely like things, right?"

Takar chuckles quietly. "Sorry, but I haven't got any treats. I'm Takar,"
he clasps the young boy's hand briefly. "And I just think it is, maybe," he
replies to Jenni.

Xachael's smile fades a bit, "No treats, eh?" Sigh. "Okay." He looks around
at the rest of the crowd. "I like treats," he repeats. "A lot."

Jenni's feet swing gingerly back and forth a moment or two before she nods
to Takar, "Might be. I'm awful about guessing egg-things. Lost my shirt
last hatching at Highreaches. "

M'kon nods at what Jasanik asks, and pulls out a wickedly sharp looking
knife decorated with a green dragon for a handle. It goes across his knee.
Sort of like this one, his action implies.

Kassima barely seems to move--but all of a sudden, a knife is occupying the
hand that was empty a moment ago. "Mmm-hmm," she confirms, still with that
toothy smile, before making it disappear back into its hiding place. "You'd
better believe I do!" she yells out towards the Sands, despite the
unlikelyhood of Saskia hearing her. "Would a mint-stick do, Xach? I've
plenty of those... oh, Myk. *Lovely* knife." Watch the greenrider try to
contain drool.

"Knives?" Jeymian repeats, canting her head to one side, so as to have a
better view of Kassima. "I remember hearing a story about a Telgari
greenrider and her knives -- ?" she halts that sentence, and shakes off a
shrug; asks, "What do you throw them at? I'd always wanted to learn, but
I'd probably miss and be deemed a safety hazard."

Xachael squeels again, "OHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, Auntie Kassima'am!
Puhleeeeeeeeeeease!" He does a little happy dance in front of the railing
to the sands.

M'kon grins some, and then puts the knife back before the bouncing Xachael
gets stuck with it by accident. "Thanks...Ma left it to me, I've no idea
why. The wrong sort for carving, but it's handy for emergencies."

Corla chuckles, "Don't start someone else on mint sticks. I've already got
half the herder hall addicted because of you." She remarks to Kassima.

Jasanik's tongue rests on his upper lips before he sucks it in with a small
smacking sound. One finger comes up to tap idly at his chin as he inspects
these two people who have so graciously shown him their... toys. He clears
his throat and his brow lifts as he forces a weak smile, "My... such
-lovely- knives. I'll have to remember to consult a Telgarian if ever I
choose to purchase such an item." Brows drop, hand drops, and Jak wisely
sits back, dropping into a suddenly quiet and contemplative revery.

Neliea has hung about in the back for good reason - getting called by her
lifemate. Smiling, she quietly slips towards the bowl.

Neliea walks off towards the Central Bowl.

Kassima asks, curious, "What story did you hear? Nary a clue whether 'twas
me--there are other Bendenite greenriders, currently affiliated with
Telgar, who have knives. Generally throw 'em at a practice target or
snowmen, depending on the season." Hides and papers rustle once again as
she pokes through her pockets, eventually producing a handful of mint
sticks. One, she takes for herself; the others, she offers around. "Nice
sort of memento, anyway... and too late for that, Corla. E'vrin told me in
his last letter that he's been addicting the South through the bunch I sent
him. Today, Telgar... tomorrow, the world!"

From the hatching sands, Saskia does seem to hear for she looks up towards
Kassima in the galleries and laughs "Hope you make many marks from this
one!" she calls with good humour.

From the hatching sands, I'sai nods at something-or-other confirmed as
Taralyth's wings sweep back to his flanks, and then relaxes into a quieter
expression too intent to be called a smile. "Over Igen, his... oh! Yes. Now
I remember; when she was stuck, and of course Daelyth..." breaking off yet
again to follow her call with his eyes, "Marks, now. Is she going to share
with us if she -does- win? Heard she shared with Ryi, after all."

Xachael agonises for several moments before choosing what he obviously
considers 'The best mintstick'. With a smile the size of Belior he says,
"Thank you."

Kassima lays the sticks down long enough to cup hands around her mouth and
holler back, "Nay worries on that score--I always do!" Lowering her hands,
she adds more apologetically, "Sorry about the shouting, Myk. You're quite
welcome, Xach. And don't forget--you can be pestering the Healers every
time you're wanting another."

Jasanik declines the proffered mint-stick with a meek smile. He replies,
"Stories? I've not heard any stories, though I must say, I'm sure they
don't do Telgar justice." His less than enthusiastic tone suggests that
this young man may be feeling just a teeeeensy bit intimidated. He wiggles
back down, deeper into his seat, and pulls the blanket which he brought
with him up and over his shoulders. A blanket? In the hatching caverns?

From the hatching sands, Carefully judging the distance between the
neighbouring eggs, Rinath positions herself just so with a mischievous
gleam in her great whirling eyes. A slight shudder is the only sign of her
next delivery--that and the egg revealed when she turns to whuffle
curiously at it.

From the hatching sands, 
Cinnabar Coral Fan Egg--
With a shell peppered yellow and white, only a cinnabar fan-shaped mark
distinguishes this mid-sized egg from the sands beneath it. But this fan
shape isn't filled in, like a quarter slice of a bubbly. Instead, the fan
is made up of branching lines, as if it had sprouted from a tree. An
orderly scattering of small purple dots across the vivid reddish-orange
mark makes it appear bumpy. It's as if, against a background of fine-ground
sand, a fan-shaped piece of coral lies abandoned.

From the hatching sands, Saskia grins up at Kassima "Aye, you're the
richest woman on Pern!" then gazes back at I'sai, still smiling, "Yes, that
flight over Igen which Taralyth shared with Rinath. It helped her a lot.
She really wanted to go *between*, but I wouldn't let her. What about
Daelyth?"

"Nay after spending all m'marks buying Wingmates and bronzeriders, I'm
nay," Kassi retorts Sands-wards, even as she bends her head to another
scribbling task. "Green, green. Has t'be green."

Syina walks in from outside the room.

Xachael looks puzzled, "You can buy wingmates? Like from Uncle Mart? If you
need more?"

Takar studies the latest egg for a moment as best as he can. "Are they
always so odd-looking? I've never seen firelizard eggs that were -that-
weird."

From the hatching sands, "From Igen," I'sai returns. "Awful glad it helped.
And it's also like the shell in Myk's - there she goes!" as if the
queenrider could have missed it. "Mor brown. Lots more brown. And," with
that call from the galleries, "It's not -my- fault she went so high, after
all."

Syina runs into the galleries, her eyes shining with anticipation at seeing
the clutching... She runs in soo fast that she nearly falls on her face..

Jasanik mrfs quietly at the latest egg laid, "They say that it can take
days for a dragon to clutch... I wonder how many eggs will be in this one,"
he muses thoughtfully, watching the ovoid spheres slowly begin to populate
the sands. He tilts his head and then looks over at Takar, "We were always
told that they were just big, mottled eggs. Amazing what you learn when you
actually attend one of these clutchings, eh?"

Jenni spots Syina coming in, withdrawing her attention from the sand long
enough to offer a wave and then she's back to sand-gazing.

M'kon glances over at Takar for a moment, and queries, "Weird?
Well...dragon eggs are a lot bigger...the mottling is more distinct."

Jeymian takes the mintstick, sniffing curiously at it, once. "I dunno," she
confesses to Kassima. "There are all sorts of gossip that run amok 'round
Pern; something about kilts and Telgar and greenriders with knives. I
thought it was just some old Auntie trying to fool the littles; didn't pay
much attention." The new egg receives a moment of consideration, "Green,"
and Jasanik with his blanket a curious expression. "Aren't you warm enough
without the blanket?"

Syina moves over to Jenni and giggles a little excitedly.. "How man have I
missed?"

Jenni thinks about heading down to the sands and then decides otherwise.

From the hatching sands, Saskia smiles "So I see." She looks over at the
latest egg "Seems to be mostly brown and grey eggs." then looks up at the
galleries and laughs "Buying riders seems an expensive way to go about
things. How much did you pay for Is, here?" she calls.

Jenni doesn't move her eyes from the scene before her but inclines her chin
towards Syina, "six so far. Still plenty more to go."

From the hatching sands, I'sai scuffs a bootsole against the sand with a
laugh, looks away. And if away happens to be toward that clutch, well, he's
not complaining.

Takar nods in reply to Jasanik, and looks to M'kon as well. "Well, I mean,
they're almost like little pictures. They're certainly beautiful, perhaps I
should have said unusual, rather than weird. Hmmm..." he trails off,
looking once again back out to the sands and their occupants.

Kassima explains, or attempts to, "'Twas at an auction, Xach. I bought
Leya, m'self, and I'sai, and now I'm bloody nigh broke. Is *so*!" That back
to I'sai. "You'd nay have cost so much if'n you hadn't radiated some...
uh... aura of studliness. *That's* the reason! All your fault, 'twas!"
Kassi sounds smug; she's solved the puzzle, and now can answer others.
"Odd-looking... well, *unique*, aye. I've a shard collection that you
wouldn't believe, nay two quite alike. Kilts sounds like me," she confesses
then. "But what's wrong with kilts, I'd like t'know--Saskia, would you
believe, he cost *one-hundred and fifty* marks? 'Twas bloody robbery, 
'twas!"

Xachael looks astounded, "You bought I'sai?!? Ohhhhhhhhhhh..." This is
aparently a revelation of some kind to the child's mind.

M'kon chuckles and mutters, "How much would you like for him, Kassi? I'll
buy him off you."

From the hatching sands, The golden queen rests a few moments,
contemplating her surroundings. Then moves on to a fresh canvas, an unused
spread of the hot Hatching sands. A few abortive craters quickly come to
dot the landscape, before she finds just the right spot to depost her next
egg. She's quick to move on after, revealing the dark egg she's just laid.

Jasanik looks over at the young lady addressing him and he replies, "I was
cold a moment. Can't a person be cold?" The young man beside him smirks,
"Sure Jak. Of course they can be cold. But not in an inferno like this!"
Jak turns his head and his pink tongue flickers out to poke at his
companion before he looks over at Kassima, "One-Hundred and Fifty Marks?"
he exclaims, "I didn't know such a sum existed!"

From the hatching sands, 
Forest's Depth Egg--
Mysteriously dark shadows crowd 'round ancient, gnarled wood that has been
bent and twisted - old growth and trees meld into egg's smooth oval, twine
branches into impassible knots. Swirls of grey seep over forest's floor,
fog's chill breath mixing with scents of rich, freshly-turned loam, pine
needles' crisp tang, humidity and decay's faint kiss. Leaves' green canopy
overlaps above, blocking light's touch - save for one small gap where
silver glitters down, moonlight's spill providing a mere whisper of
illumination.

Syina gasps and points to the egg and tugs on Jenni's arm.. "Look loook!"
She beams.. "How beautiful!"

"Two-hundred?" Kassi mutters back hopefully. "Original price plus expenses
t'dignity that he's cost me? One-hundred and fifty marks certes do exist.
Paid more than that, what with buying m'self and Leya too, which is why I'm
low, and... ohhh. Green!"

From the hatching sands, I'sai's brows just wrinkle, midway through
Kassima's more readily audible recital; with that expression concealed,
it's Taralyth's dancing glance that reveals the _dragon's_ humor, before he
eases Rinath's way to inspect the soft, dark shell, her rejected craters,
and the queen herself thereafter.

Corla looks down, "That ones a bit green though it still has the brown
bits,"" Stating the obvious.

Jasanik stammers, "But where on Pern did you get those kinds of funds?
Clearly I'm in the wrong line of business m'self."

M'kon mmmms, "One-ninety...you bought a future clutch-sire."

Jenni startles, jumping out of her skin nearly at the tug to her arm and
whirls towards Syina with wide eyes. She's been sitting so nice and quiet
in her little section of the sands she didn't expect to be pawed, "Oh
shards! You like to scare the life out of me?"

Xachael looks up at Jasanik, "Auntie Kassima'am deals in fleeces."

Syina blushes sharply and looks down.. "Sorry." She looks up towards the
sands, awating another egg..

Xachael says "She get's everyone's fleeces."

Jasanik's brow furrows and he leans over, resting his chin in the palm of
his hand, "Fleeces? You don't say... what kind of fleeces?"

"Golden fleeces?" Jeymian suggests, with a quirk of her lips in amusement.

"Gam--" Kassi starts to say... and then cracks up, absolutely, at Xach's
comment. "Something like that," she manages around her snickers. "Oh,
*my*... Xach, that's priceless. Well, now, that's true, Myk. But what would
I do with him if'n I still kept him? Mayhaps I should be reconsidering that
price."

M'kon says drolly, "He makes a nice doorstop."

Xachael shrugs, "Dunno." He smiles, "But if you listen to the drudges,
they're BAD fleeces." He beams at Kassima.

Jenni touches Syina's shoulder, "Sorry, I just wasn't expecting that. HOw
are you?"

Kerowyn walks in from outside the room.

Kassima rubs her chin thoughtfully, leaving a streak of charcoal there.
"That's true. I could use a doorstop. But for one-hundred and ninety-five,
methinks I could be giving him up. 'Twould just have t'be settling for one
cheaper."

From the hatching sands, Saskia laughs at something I'sai says, gazing at
him, with that smile that hasn't left her face since she stepped onto the
sands. Then she looks up and gasps "Ooh, a completely different brown.
Reminds me of that forest I explored with F'red."

Jasanik scratches one of his side-burns with his fingers and clears his
throat a little. He flips the blanket off his legs, leaving it in a rumpled
heap between bleachers. "Fleeces.." he reiterates and mms thoughtfully.
"I'll keep that in mind, Xach. Thank you for the input." His eyes flicker
over at Kassima and they narrow slightly through indecision, but quickly
his gaze reverts back to watching the clutching at hand.

Syina tilts her smile back towards Jenni.. "I'm alright.. but I'm sorry..
I'm so excited.. this is the first time I've seen eggs!" She's trembling
with excitement.. "That last one is so beautiful!"

M'kon goes back to watching with weyrbred lack-of-utter-excitement. His
eyes keep straying outwards to the figures on the sands, watching them
instead.

Takar sighs as he waits for another egg.

Kerowyn arrives at the stands, finding an empty spot so she too can watch
the excitment.

From the hatching sands, Rinath is quick to move on, and improves upon one
of the previously rejected cradles of sand. A few bats of her foreclaws
make it perfect, and she settles to produce the next egg. After the
heaving's done, she turns her head around, and warbles at Taralyth, as if
to make sure he's paying attention to what she does before she moves away
to reveal her work

From the hatching sands, 
Reflections Egg--
A tranquil pool is nested between a maple and an oak tree, their branches
hanging over the pool and reflections in its still waters. The reflection
of the oak shivers as a light breeze blows, but the deep shadows that the
maple leaves cast on the water are still distinct, except for a few streaks
where the shadows blend together. Across the water's surface floats a
single, perfect, yellow maple leaf, captured in time as it floats above the
dark, blurred shadows.

Syina gasps! "Oh! Look at that one!" She giggles loudly and tugs on Jenni's
arm again

Xachael is now thoroughly engrossed in his Mint Stick, and didn't notice
the recent egg. "Mmmmmmmmmm! Pretty."

Kerowyn actually looks awestruck as the queen works to produce such a
pretty egg. "It's, so gorgeous." the Masterweaver says softly./

From the hatching sands, Saskia oohs at this latest egg, starts to walk
over to it, then pauses a moment, and bursts into laughter as Kassima's
words finally register. "One hundred and fifty marks! I didn't know
anything could cost that much! But I guess he's worth it."

Corla chuckles, "These last few eggs make me feel like I'm walking through
some wood, or maybe a small forest,"

Jenni smiles at Syina, submitting herself to the tug from the excited
woman, "isn't it though? I'm not sure that there are as nice as those from
Jaereth's cluthc, but I'm a touch biased."

"Blue," Kassi confides to all around a mouthful of mint. "That makes
three... and four greens, if'n I'm right. About the right ratio." Raising
her voice, she calls, "How much would *you* pay for him, Saskia? I've had
an offer of one-hundred ninety from Myk!"

Syina giggles gently at Jenni and nods.. "You /are/ biased.." She tilts her
head to the side and whispers to Jenni, still watching the sands..

From the hatching sands, I'sai must ask, hands interlocked behind his back
drill-fashion to counter his otherwise easy stance, "Did you like the
forest? ...Ah. Er. It's a long story." Meanwhile, Taralyth breaks off with
digging his own trial craters to warble back at Rinath: of course she's
doing a good job. She was before. Why would she stop? ...even as he
explores soft-pawed to take a closer look.

Jasanik's eyes narrow and he looks back at Kassima, "Are you -sure- they're
all green and you're not just trying to think they are? You -are- a
greenrider, you know."

Takar leans back and nods carefully. "Hmm...fairly pretty, that one."

Telgar Weyr> Kassima needs to start filming commercials. Kassi's Wholesale
Bronzeriders: We stock 'em deep and sell 'em cheap!

Jasanik is always able to state the obvious.

Telgar Weyr> M'kon sniggers.

Telgar Weyr> Nimooe grins and will take two.

Jenni hms softly at Syina, frowning as she tries to catch the lowered 
words.

M'kon chuckles quietly, "About half the clutch, give or take one or two, is
usually green."

From the hatching sands, I'sai, after a slow, slow I'm-not-paying-attention
pause, even so dares an even longer look back up to the galleries.

M'kon says "So she's got a fifty-fifty chance of it being a green, any egg
she picks!"

Telgar Weyr> M'kon says, "Do we get a multiple-purchase discount?"

Jasanik mms and replies, "But she also has a fifty-fifty chance of it being
another color."

Kassima smiles, yes, smiles sweetly down to I'sai, whether or not he can
actually see her doing so. "I'm tempting death again, methinks. But 'tis
worth it." She snorts with laughter at Jasanik. "I'd rather noticed, aye.
Myk has the right of it; I'm nay *sure*, can't be *sure*, but the theory's
sound."

Telgar Weyr> I'sai says, "And if the bronzerider has marks already, do you
get those as well with a proper purchase."

Xachael climbs carefully up onto the bleacher on which Kassima sits,
puckers up and says through pursed lips, "I gotsa go to sleep now Auntie
Kassima'am."

From the hatching sands, Satisfied that Taralyth is, in fact, doing his
proper job, Rinath moves on and fusses with a dug-out spot equidistant to
the previous two eggs. Finding it to her liking after some reworking, she
lingers there until she's produced another, and moves away leaving the dull
grey orb in her place.

From the hatching sands, 
Ink-swept Oblivion Egg--
Enameled in the blackest of inks, and gleaming in some unknown light, oily
patterns stretch themselves about this ovoid, hinting at things not quite
discernable in the blackest of blacks. The faintest tracings of something,
a semblance of aniline that can't quite be set apart from inky blackness,
winds its way up one edge, delving into the deepest of indigos as it
performs loops around the very edge. Set apart, is the striation of
absinthe, which flashes for a moment, but removes itself from view as
another flash of light sends further waves of black across the dusky shell.

Telgar Weyr> Kassima hmmms. If you have the right coupon, Myk. And I do
give discounts on six-packs.

Telgar Weyr> M'kon has enough trouble with one. Don't need a sixpack.

Syina gasps! "Look at that one!" She beams.. "It's a sister to the other
one! Black and Silver colors together!"

From the hatching sands, Rinath warbles her approval to Taralyth, even as
she digs more craters of her own. Meanwhile Saskia has reached the forest
green egg and says with a grin, "I like them all." though she leans down to
touch this one. "Well, you'll have plenty of time to tell it after the
clutch is laid."

Jenni nods to what Syina whispered to her and to the louder outburst in
amusement, "I kept a couple pieces of his shell. I was going to make
something from them, but haven't decided just what."

Kerowyn says. "Another egg? How many more will she have?" she leans down to
ask someone. Anyone who will answer her, really.

Kassima removes the mint-stick from her mouth, and leans over to attempt to
bestow a kiss upon the child. "I'll let you know how the rest of the eggs
turn out then, hmm, Xach? If'n I see you a'fore you've had a chance t'run
out here tomorrow. Oh... that new one's green, I daresay. Could be anywhere
from thirty t'forty, though m'bet's on thirty and three."

M'kon offers to whoever asked, "Between thirty and fourty...maybe a few
more. It was a long flight...I'd say uh...likely more than less."

From the hatching sands, Taralyth, given that approval, puts on quite the
show of attentiveness: a lean back to his haunches, one forepaw on the
ground and the other raised, head tilted towards his queen, headknobs
perked and wings swept back and out of the way. Even his tail's settled
into a loose question mark of a curl with an egg for its point. And manages
to hold the pose for, oh, at least an instant or few.

From the hatching sands, Saskia looks up from the forest egg towards the
galleries and chuckles, "Oh, I don't know, Kassi. I'm not one to bid
against someone's weyrmate. Besides I'd prefer someone who spent time with
me for free. I only have two marks on me."

Xachael grins at Kassima and waves furiously to everyone else, mint stick
stuck to the enter of his hand.

Xachael walks off towards the Central Bowl.

Kerowyn flashes a bright smile to M'kon. "That's a good number, right? I
don't see too many hatchings. They really are pretty eggs." she changes
seats, slightly closer to M'kon.

Jasanik waves to Xachael as the young man leaves and then gives Kassima
another one of his fascinated looks when she predicts the next one is a
green. He shakes his head, his lanky locks falling down in his eyes before
he turns and peers at the eggs. Every now and then, Syrina catches his
attention and he turns to look at the exciteable woman with an amused 
smile.

From the hatching sands, The Queen's great golden head turns slowly from
side to side, keeping a careful eye out that those who should be staying
away are, in fact, doing so. Her outer eyelids close briefly over eyes
flaring orange-red, and when they reopen there sits an egg upon the sands.

M'kon grins, "Anything more than a dozen's a good number, as they say."

From the hatching sands, 
Hastily Painted Canvas Egg--
Silver paints roughly over this egg like a hastily covered canvas. White
peeks through the silver, the light and dark giving the illusion of
unevenness. Different sized spots of blue dapple the egg's surface.
Concentrations of cerulean blue and cobalt cluster together, spreading out
to only a dot here or there in places.

Syina giggles softly. "Wow, look at that.>"

M'kon comments after a while, "Though...the relative sizes of the eggs
um...can give you some idea too...the average sized ones usually hold small
browns, blues, and greens...sometimes a really cramped bronze. The little
ones are /usually/ green...and the bigger ones are usually big blues,
browns, and bronzes..."

Takar seems to have lost his initial wonder, but still watches attentively.
Kerowyn chuckles, averting her eyes just in time to see the newest egg
arrive. She looks back to watch M'kon as he speaks. "And that would be how
people try to guess the colors of the occupants?"

From the hatching sands, "Oh, fine, 'after,' it is," I'sai teases, though
once she's continued, the smile he then sends the queenrider gains a hint
of relief; he salutes the galleries, then turns the gesture into rubbing
the flat of his hand against his forehead. "I'll be right back. Just
getting the first waterskin," and starts crunching across the sand to the
stairs' base.

Kassima protests, "Nay so very long, Myk. And with an unproven queen and
sire, in her first clutch, midway through the Pass... I'll grant it *could*
be more'n forty, but the odds are against it. And there's *another* green.
Shards!" She once again lets her voice range past anything remotely similar
to quiet. "Ruddy fine clutch, Rinath, Taralyth! Plenty of greens! And
Saskia, I can understand *that* preference. Me, 'twill just have t'be
hiring m'self frond-wavers when I retire, since few are those who'd wear a
loincloth and feed me grapes for free." Go figure. "Nay red ones yet," she
lets her tone drop back down to observe. "Reds are usually m'favorites.
Remind me of Lysseth's."

Kerowyn looks at Kassima with amusement. "I've never heard of a clutch with
so many greens."

M'kon chuckles at Kassima, "It /is/ Taralyth's clutch...I can always hope,
can't I?"

Jasanik's eyes widen at the conversation that floats about him in the
galleries, obviously boggling at the topics and comments. He just lets out
a whimperish sigh and clears his throat once more, though surely by now it
is clear, and proceeds to do a bit of premature egg gazing.

M'kon says "Besides, she's a Benden queen...and a late riser." As if that
meant much. "Besides--""

From the hatching sands, Taralyth, at that, drops down to all paws and with
an eye on Rinath, wanders off to make nearly as much a show over extending
a paw to that first, gray egg. Nearly, because it's a more tentative paw,
only the base of his paw and none of the talons beginning to brush the soft
shell: like this?

Kassima replies to that with all due dignity, "If'n the clutch has thirty
eggs, Master, around fifteen or so will be green." She does frown down at
the list, though. "Mind, 'twould be better for more of those t'come t'be
blue and brown. With a bronze or three, mayhaps. But 'twill trust the
clutchparents t'be taking care of that... aye, well, there's the Benden
Blood to consider. Still." A moment of impishness bids her suggest, "'Twill
save the bet on a truly enormous clutch for when Nioth sires his first, 
hmm?"

M'kon snorts at Kassima, as if to say 'when tunnelsnakes gain voices and
wings'. "Save your marks, Kassima. If Nioth ever sires a clutch, I'll be
the one paying out marks."

Kerowyn looks between riders, grinning.

From the hatching sands, Saskia smiles to I'sai, watching him for a moment,
then stares up at Kassima "forty!" then beams "Thanks, Kassi! I'll see if I
can get Rinath to lay a few red ones for ya!" then adds more quietly,
perhaps not audible from the galleries unless you're listening carefully.
"My desires are more mundane, I'm afraid. A weyrmate. A babe or two.
Growing old together."

Jenni looks out at the sands and at Saskia after her comment and her nose
crinkles slightly.

M'kon rubs his face a moment, and shifts his position so he can sprawl back
against the bleacher behind him, eyes firmly fixed on the sands.

Kassima returns the snort, aiming a light elbow-jab at M'kon's ribs. "Sure,
sure. And I swore for Turns I'd never have a clutch--err, spawn--and look
at me now. Fatter'n a porcine stuffed full of pudding." Down to Saskia, she
shouts, "That'd be fantastic, Sas...." Pause. Confused: "But what's growing
mold have t'be doing with it?"

Syina smiles and looks back towards the sands, grinning

M'kon oofs good naturedly at Kassima, and chuckles. "Aye, but it's not like
you can lose a greenflight, Aunti. It was bound to happen sooner or
later...though if I'd laid bets on you and J'lyn, I'd've lost the cothold."

From the hatching sands, A gust of wind blows through the hatching cavern
as Rinath gently lays another egg onto the sands. The wind dies but not
without leaving behind its echo on the freshly glistening egg.

From the hatching sands, 
Wind and Rain Egg--
Drops of pale blue water splash and runs as they drip down the sides of
this egg. Gust of gray wind howl as it batters its way through the pouring
rain. The wind swirls, bringing the rain with it, pale blue streaks in a
whirl of gray. The rain pools into a dark blue puddle at the bottom, its
surface pock-marked with raindrops and rippled by the strong wind.

From the hatching sands, There's an extra slosh from the waterskin as I'sai
momentarily misses, or loses, his hold; and then he's turned, walking back
readily enough to match the smile sent to his light voice, "Just now, would
you settle for a drink? And what does mo..." the wind ruffles his hair; he
looks.

Syina oohs and nods towards that egg... "That's a blue!"

From the hatching sands, Saskia giggles and calls up to Kassima "One of the
eggs has a spot that reminds me of mold."

"I *suppose*," Kassi allows, with grumpy grace. "But you've the right of it
with the last. Normally, I'd defend m'self by saying 'Stranger things have
happened,' but I'm nay certain they *have*. Blue, i'truth!" She points her
charcoal towards the latest egg, before moving it to scratch madly at the
hide. "Definitively blue. Mold? *Mold*? If'n you say so, Saskia, but
they're a bit fresh t'be molding just yet."

From the hatching sands, Saskia shakes her head "Nay, I just meant the
illusion of mold. These eggs' mottles remind me of a lot of different
things. Like that one reminds me of wind and rain." she says as she notes
the latest arrival with a wide smile, then turns to I'sai "A drink sounds
lovely." She stretches out her hand.

Jenni stands up quietly and without a word edges away from the crowd.

Jenni walks off towards the Central Bowl.

M'kon grins, as if he's won some argument with the greenrider, and goes
back to watching with somewhat more interest.

Syina blinks as Jenni gets up, but she shrugs and moves closer to the egs,
smiling warmly. "I'sai, Saskia.." She calls down.. "They are beautiful!"

From the hatching sands, I'sai loosens the stopper slightly and then hands
it over without opening it, giving the woman first taste, first choice;
then movement in the periphery catches his eye, and he glances up to see -
well, if not who left, certainly who's still there, and that with a smile.
At Syina's call, though, he half-bows towards the dragons, deferring it.

M'kon grins some, "'Fraid I'sai and Saskia didn't have a /whole/ lot to do
with it...you might congratulate the dragons though ... "

Kassima darts a mistrustful look towards M'kon, before leaning back in her
own chair with a muffled groan. "I could wish they'd decided t'be doing
this a few months agone instead. Nay that 'tisn't worth it, but...."
There's a moment of rustling, and then she pulls a 'skin forth from her
satchel, and takes a healthy swallow of its contents before continuing.
"*That* I can understand," she then replies to the queenrider. "Eggs
usually remind me of something. Though I can't say *mold* had crossed
m'mind just yet."

From the hatching sands, Saskia looks up towards Syina, grinning "Thanks!"
She looks back down at the bottle, seeming not to notice that I'sai hasn't
had any yet. She takes a long sip, then holds onto it, gazing at Rinath who
has resumed her restless pacing.

From the hatching sands, Taralyth sees about turning that egg a little
more, as if somehow that could help, or if nothing else distract; still,
the great care he takes in nudging it to just the proper distance from its
neighbor - close, and yet enough to keep sand between them - is spoiled by
the glances that keep returning to her, and the telltale shift of his pale
tail behind.

Syina grins at Taralyth and smiles towards the dragon.. "he's a good 
daddy."

From the hatching sands, Saskia nods slowly while Rinath watches Taralyth
for a few moments with a protective air, then seemingly satisfied, he is in
fact a good daddy, she turns away with a soft rumble.

From the hatching sands, Rinath sighs softly and settles down for a brief
rest, though she only closes one set of eyelids.

"Looks as though she's had it for now," Kassi observes. "Can't say I blame
her. Shards if'n I'd want t'be popping out eleven kidlings at a stretch
without a break afterwards."

From the hatching sands, I'sai, as Rinath turns away, eyes his own dragon
with rather more suspicion, ...and gets a reproachful look for his effort
before Taralyth returns to alternating overt attention between queen and
his - his - their eggs.

From the hatching sands, She wakes from her rest with a fitful start, then
warbles querroulously at her distended belly. That complaint done, Rinath
rises and begins to sniff around the sands with her snout close to the
ground. Finally, she finds a dark and secretive corner to lay her latest 
egg.

From the hatching sands, 
Deep Jungle Egg--
An ungainly egg, its rich and magnificent coloring more than compensates
for its awkward proportions. Too long by nearly half, and not quite
perfectly ovoid, such imperfections submerge in its crushed velvet brown,
so dark its just shy of black. Light rustles off of it in abstruse, hard to
discern patches; spears of moonbeams through the leaves of a deep, remote
forest. Across the wider end, striking streaks of sunbeam white
mysteriously appear, as if applied by an artist to draw attention to its
otherwise subtle color.

Syina ooohs and giggles.. "That's going to be a long one!"

Kassima squints towards the latest egg, mulling it over for several long
moments. Finally, "Brown. Methinks. Or a rather large green, but 'twill say
brown, for argument's sake."

From the hatching sands, I'sai has to first squint, then widen his eyes,
and then finally cheat: Taralyth's own dark muzzle swings over for a better
look, and the rider's ensuing, "Mmm," ill-hides interest in an effort to be
noncommittal.

M'kon grins at Kassima, and dares, "Not a bronze? Just for variety's sake?"

Kassima tosses her nose into the air for a moment in mock-hauteur. "Why
spoil a splendid clutch with one of *those*?" she asks with affected scorn,
then grins and drops the ill-fitting mask to chide, "Benden bronzes come
more oft from *white* eggs! Though Nicoth's was colorful. M'favorite of the
clutch, as I recall."

M'kon laughs, "Benden bronzes /sometimes/ come from white eggs. Not
all...and the last clutch skewed the whole idea...every dragon came from a
nearly white egg!"

Syina laughs softly.. "Wow!"

"Well, sometimes," Kassi allows with a dip of her chin. "But still...
methinks brown, though the size could be bronze. F'rosti's Snomath came
from a white egg, too, come t'be remembering, so I suppose you can't be
telling!"

M'kon grins some, as if that too has won some argument with the greenrider.

From the hatching sands, Saskia smiles warmly at her lifemate and exclaims
over her latest egg "Lovely! magnificent colours!" then looks up at the
galleries with a soft chuckle "We'd better not have at least a bronze or
two. Or Taralyth will be sad."

Kassima has to ask, this time: "And wherefor d'you grin so, O bronzer?"
Back down to the Sands, she yells with a laugh, "He'd likely be sadder if'n
'tweren't any greens!"

Syina grins and nods, before calling down.. "We need more blues for all the
greens here!" She giggles.

From the hatching sands, In the same dark corner, Rinath laid her last egg,
she also deposits another egg some distance away. She curls up near it,
closes all her eyelids and promptly falls asleep.

From the hatching sands, 
Silently Sinister Sable Egg--
Enfolded in midnight shadows, this egg perches some distance from the heart
of the clutch--some distance, too, from any clutchmates; it sits alone,
brooding in solitary, sardonic silence. Deep into that darkness peering,
one may note that its coloring is not unflawed: the thinnest traceries of
charcoal, of glinting navy, of purple iridescence branch out across it to
form the illusion of sharp-edged plumes... and faintly limn crescent-curves
at the nadir, sharp claws to dig into Sand and soul.

M'kon grins smugly, "Just...because..."

Syina ooohs and grins.. "Look at that one!"

Jasanik snaps out of his silent revery to look at the people, new and old
in the stands. He blushes quietly and clears his throat, flipping back into
his loudish demeanor as he says, "Jolly good bunch of eggs, isn't it?"

Kassima can't help but beam at this latest from Rinath. "That," she
declares, with a broad gesture of charcoal, "is a *green*." And her tone
leaves no room whatsoever for doubt. "A'course 'tis. Eight greens! 'Twould
have t'be, with a number like that!"

From the hatching sands, Saskia takes another sip of water then breathes
out slowly, "Looks like she's going to sleep for a while." she calls up to
the galleries.

Jasanik mms and leans over to M'kon, mumbling, "How often is she right
about the odds on eggs and things?"

M'kon grins at Jasanik, "Dunno...she and Ma stopped competing and I stopped
paying attention."

From the hatching sands, I'sai inhales, a long breath as if of less burning
air, those fine lines of tension beginning to relinquish mouth and eyes;
after a few moments he remembers to say, and teasingly, "Oh, there's no
safe answer -there-."

Kassima agrees with some drollness, "Aye. Now I'm only competing with M'kla
for number of spawn." Setting the writing utensils aside to uncurl and
stretch out her fingers, she calls down, "Fine job she's done thus far,
Saskia--did you hear? Eight greens!"

M'kon chuckles, "And Ma's got you beat in grandspawn...I forget how many 
now."

Syina claps at Saskia and I'sai.. "Tell them that the eggs are beautiful!"

M'kon says "Eight, at least, by last count...possibly more."

Jasanik ohs and hrms a little. He blinks at Kassima and he chuckles, "How
come I find that easy to believe?" He shakes his head, looking back out at
the clutch of dragon eggs, "If this is that dragon's first clutch, do you
really think the clutch will be as large as 30?"

Syina gets up and waves..

Syina walks off towards the Central Bowl.

From the hatching sands, Saskia beams up at Kassima "8 greens, you say?
Well, that's a goodly number and 13's a lucky number. For all that I don't
think Rinath's done yet." then frowns, looking at I'sai, "You haven't had
anything to drink." she says faintly accusingly and thrusts the water at 
him.

"Why, naturally! 'Tis filled to the brim with Benden blood, which has been
properly thickened by incest," Kassi begins to lecture. "I don't know
whether 'twill match that last clutch of 'Reaches--gads, what was that,
some monsterous number--but it should be at *least* thirty. Less is
unimaginable." Turning back to M'kon, she says fervently, "And glad I am of
that. Kaylira *just* turned twelve the other day; I'm in nay hurry t'be a
grandmum, you can rest assured. Hey, Saskia, careful with that Water.
'Twill make you pregnant, y'know."

From the hatching sands, What, no heat stroke for him? I'sai tries an, "I
was busy?" and accepts the skin without further complaint.

M'kon gives Kassima the faintest of ill looks, and then chuckles, "Well, I
still claim right of uncleship and great uncleship in the frightening case
of her deciding she wants spawn at fifteen or something."

Jasanik blinks a moment and then chuckles a little, shaking his head. He
runs one calloused hand through his thick hair and sighs, "I swear by the
first egg, there's nothing I'll find unbelievable after this..."

Kassima advises, "Oh, now, wait until you see J'lyn in his leathers a'fore
you say that. You're certes welcome t'be claiming that, Myk. Though if'n
I'm you're aunt, and you're the uncle t'm'daughter's spawn, that suggests
more incest right there."

M'kon snorts in amusement, "No incest in claimed relatives..."

Jasanik shakes his head, "I say, me thinks that the human lines are more
confounded than the dragons!"

From the hatching sands, I'sai even unstoppers it so he can drink, and
afterward wash a little into his palm so he can wet forehead, back of his
neck, throat. "...Better. And," his voice drops lower to confide, "You
know, I can only hear bits and snatches of what they're saying up there,"
Taralyth, apparently, being otherwise engrossed, "But you know, that's
probably just as well."

M'kon chuckles, "It's simple...most weyrborn call their mother's friends
'auntie' and 'uncle' regardless of relation...unless they're actually the
known father...and all."

From the hatching sands, Saskia freezes slightly at Kassima's, blushes and
says perhaps too faintly for Kassima to hear, "That's not how you get
pregnant." Meanwhile Rinath's tail twitches slightly, the only sign in her
somnolence that she guards still, even in sleep.

From the hatching sands, Saskia nods slowly, still a little red "I really
only hear something that's got my name attached to it. Funny how that
works. How are you feeling? Not dehydrated, I hope?"

From the hatching sands, I'sai follows up in the same quiet, dry tone, "Try
'not hearing' as well as actually not hearing. It's easier, if you can keep
the red down... Hmm, funny? Yeah. At least Tear remembers my name; and I'll
tell you I'm not dehydrated and whatever else, if you tell me we won't have
healers rampaging down here to inspect us every few candlemarks."

"Claimed incest?" Kassi tries. "Ah, nay, we're *much* less incestual. Why,
Benden's line had sibs mating with sibs for generations, and--well, 'tis
nay *all* you do, Saskia. True enough there. Drinking the Water is phase
one, and spawning is phase three."

M'kon chuckles at Kassima, "But you can't remember what phase two is, 
right?"

Kassima has remarkable hearing, she really does. "Quite right, Myk," she
agrees cheerfully. "I've blocked phase two out of m'memory entirely."
M'kon teases, "After J'lyn...I can't blame you." He waits for the swat that
he's just dutifully earned.

Jasanik bursts out with laughter at Kassima's reply to M'kon, one arm
swiftly swinging across his abdomen to cradle the vibrating chest cavity.
"Oh Shells you are a treat, Kassima!"

From the hatching sands, Saskia smiles "Well, I don't want to be rude. This
is something the whole Weyr shares." then adds with a grin "Perish the
thought. Rinath would eat any healer who dared to come down here."

From the hatching sands, I'sai plays at musing, "On second thought. Bring
'em on."

Kassima dutifully gives it, or tries, taking up one of her rolled-up hides
in order to defend her honor. "Actually," she then admits, sheepish, "I
really *don't* remember that. Too sloshed by far and away, and I warrant
'tis the same for him. Thankee, Jasanik... methinks."

Jasanik chuckles and tips his head to Kassima, "You're welcome, I know."

From the hatching sands, Saskia giggles "Nah, it'd make a mess and then
Rinath'd grumble and make Taralyth clean it up, and they'd send more
healers to try and fix up the first one. And so on until there'd be no more
room for eggs."

From the hatching sands, I'sai snaps his fingers, "There goes that
brilliant plan. Hmm. I wonder how long it would take before Nadja, assuming
she didn't go in the first round, tried sending out just any weyrgirl with
a healer's knot stuck on her shoulder, see if they'd notice the
difference... Want more water? It -is- hot."

Kassima, listening to the Sands as best she can from a distance, abruptly
begins to cheer, "Kill the Healers! Kill, kill, kill! But take all their
mint sticks first!"

M'kon snorts in amusement, and shakes his head some, "Can you spare Myshel,
Kassi? He's harmless, I swear."

From the hatching sands, Saskia grins "I'm afraid she'd suffer the same
gory fate. Rinath has nothing against healers, per se, just anyone but you
and me entering the sands. Perhaps when the eggs are a bit harder or we
have a good long talk."

A young man dashes into the galleries to crouch near Jasanik and whisper
into the young man's ear. Jak frowns a little and stands, clearing his
throat to those around him. "My visit was wonderful and I only regret that
I must leave now, but duties at Dekana call me. Thank you."

Jasanik walks off towards the Central Bowl.

Kassima makes a show of thinking this over. "Since he's greenrider spawn, I
suppose so," she decides at last, ever-magnanimous. "Has *he* spawned any
grandspawn for M'kla yet?"

M'kon laughs, "no. He's still looking for some nice holder or crafter girl
to settle down with."

From the hatching sands, Saskia looks up towards the galleries and smiles,
calling, "Thank you everyone for coming!"

Kassima repeats, with a nose-crinkle of distaste, "Settle down with. Ah,
well... to each their own, and speaking of spawn--you still have contacts
in Igen, don't you? Weyr, nay Hold?" Shifting back around to face the
Sands, she waves down and shouts, "Welcome! A pleasure! And don't forget
t'be reminding Rinath about those red eggs!"

From the hatching sands, I'sai decides, "No point in - " and breaks off at
her call, trying on a wave to the galleries as he might have seen N'var do.
Only with considerably less finesse.

Jeymian startles up out of her reverie; "Thank you for letting us be here,
Jr. Weyrwoman, ma'am!" she calls back. "The eggs are truly lovely."

From the hatching sands, Saskia laughs "I won't!" Not hearing or perhaps
ignoring all the talk of spawning, she then takes another slow sip of
water, shoulders sagging a little with fatigue.

From the hatching sands, I'sai watches her; "Do you think... do you think
Rinath would let you partway up the stairs. ...Just to sit down, but still
be close, ...or something." His mutter of should've-talked-to-M'rgan-more
is more under his breath than anything.

From the hatching sands, Saskia looks over at I'sai, still smiling "Yes, no
point in making a mess." she takes another drink of water, then hands it
back to I'sai. She straightens her shoulders, and gazes at her lifemate,
sleeping so soundly, then nods to I'sai. "I think so." She walks slowly
over to the steps and sits down carefully.

From the hatching sands, Taralyth, meanwhile, has been prowling about the
outskirts of the clutch, occasionally nudging a mostly-dried egg closer to
the others as well as to Rinath herself; his rider nods to hers, and for
the moment remains standing, though he does stifle a yawn that threatens to
escape him.

Kassima watches Jeymian depart with something of a blink. "Shards. They're
dropping like vtols. Must be hotter in here than I'd figured."

From the hatching sands, Saskia smiles softly, sleepily as she leans back
and rests her head against the hard stone steps, her eyes drift closed as
she mumbles "Too hot to sleep there. I'll get a cot...tomorrow."

From the hatching sands, Or one will be gotten for her. Sooner. But,
"Tomorrow," is what I'sai assures, and doesn't disturb her rest.

From the hatching sands, Saskia's slow deep breathing is her only response
as she falls as deeply asleep as her lifemate.

From the hatching sands, I'sai, after some time - and once Taralyth's
settled into a low crouch that supports glowing, still-unlidded eyes -
picks his way toward the galleries; he's careful on the steps, with their
remaining waterskin, with their goldrider.

I'sai walks over from the hatching sands.

M'kon smiles just a bit, as I'sai comes up. Chest-deep "Congratulations."

"Aye, felicitations," Kassi echoes with a grin from amidst her nest of
hides. "Taralyth must be proud, hey? *Eight* greens. Couldn't be asking for
better'n that."

I'sai clears his throat, ears faintly red. "Uh. Thanks. An' yeah. ...But,
you know, I should've at -least- taken off my tunic. Forgot how hot it was
down there," and then evidently just didn't think.

Kassima teases, "But Is, then people would have been too busy watching you
t'watch the eggs." Shaking her head, she adds, "Nay, in seriousness--
beautiful clutch. Don't blame you for forgetting aught. Have a seat and put 
your roasted feet up awhile?"

I'sai takes a long breath, then primly tells that greenrider, "I -do- wear
a shirt, you know, though I'll save showing you the sweat-stains." He does
'obey' enough to drop down to a seat by his weyrmate, though luckily
doesn't doff his tunic for display then either.

M'kon chuckles despite himself, "You should drink more while you're out
there...it's awfully hot."

Kassima chortles in unrepentant laughter, then falls silent for several
moments to recopy her notes on the clutch onto clearer hide.

I'sai sits up enough to eye the stairs. "...Oh, I'll drink more later," he
assures. "Besides, it's a long run to the latrines."

Takar returns, having left for a while, perhaps for an evening meal.

Not much extravagant is happening: Rinath is sleeping - on the sands; her
rider is sleeping - on the stairs; Taralyth is watching - on the sands; and
his rider just has his head leaned against his weyrmate's shoulder, eyes
shut. Kassima likewise has her hides, and then some.

Takar provides everyone with a cheerful smile and heads up to the front of
the gallery to lean on the rail and gaze out at the sands.

I'sai does wedge his eyes partway open at the sound of footsteps, and
studies - more or less, since it's blurry - the tall youth's back.

From the hatching sands, Saskia slumbers on peacefully, resting on the cool
stone steps. Rinath likewise sleeps, stretched out on the sands, though her
tail twitches from time to time.

Takar turns back towards the few apparently remaining in the galleries.
"She's done, then?"

It's no stretch for Is to keep his voice low; "Naw. It'll be, oh. I dunno.
Candlemarks. Something like," yawn, "that."

M'kon chuckles, "Oh no...no, a few days...what Is said."

"Days," I'sai agrees dreamily. "And it's warm in here, and it's cold out
there."

Takar nods, frowning a little at his ignorance. He keeps his mouth shut,
catching the mood, and his smile returns as he looks out at the eggs laid
so far again.

I'sai says not particularly coherently - and of course, it would be after
Takar's looked back again - "You're the fellow from before, aren't you."

Takar continues to stare out at the sands for a moment, then turns back,
wondering if that was directed to him. "Before? I was here before,
yes...or, you mean, in the workroom? I think I met you then."

Leya walks in from outside the room.

Kassima finally finishes her copying, or at least reaches a suitable
pausing place. "That *should* be a bit neater," she says, holding it out to
survey it critically. "Don't want t'be getting confused when a bet is on
the line. G'deve, all who've come in since I went into scribing-trance."

Takar nods amiably towards Kassima.

"...Workroom," I'sai says, and shuts his eyes again - only to flicker them
open at Leya's arrival, and have the blink serve as a wave. "That sounds
right. Mmm. How are the bets working out so far? Did you bet, Taker...
wait, that name doesn't sound right, does it."

Leya waves to everyone as she climbs up into the galleries and walks over,
"Hi everyone." She then peers with interest at the sands, "How's it going
here?"

Takar steps back up a tier, and takes a seat. "Takar, close though. No...I
haven't got much to bet, I'sai." He seems to have his wits about him
considerably more than I'sai does.

Takar smiles to Leya, taking yet another look at the eggs. "She's sleeping
right now," he says, indicating Rinath with a nod.

He does, doesn't he? "Me neither," Is says just as agreeably. "Takar. Much
better name. Though I'd warrant it didn't get you teased much less when you
were littler? ...It's hot, Leya. Tell me you brought us something to drink.
But at least it's not cold."

"Well, bets are heavy against a gold egg, unfortunately, and high for the
clutch being in the low t'mid thirty range," Kassi reports after some
rummaging and consultation. "Odds are low of forty or higher, but lower yet
of lower than thirty. And I've taken one bet on color-from-egg already."

Leya shrugs her shoulder as she slowly shakes her head, "Sorry, Is. I just
brought myself. Nothing else." She pushes up the sleeves of her tunic, "But
hot is a nice change from the usual cold, isn't it?" She looks over at
Takar, "Oh, and I'm Leya. And if I heard right you're Takar." She peers
over at Kassi, "How can you know that already?"

Takar nods in response to a lot of things, replying first to Leya, "I think
I'm giving Crom's duties, still. Well met." And to I'sai, "I didn't get
teased as much as you might think. More for being skinny, than for my name.
A lot of heavy lads back at home."

I'sai amiably mentions, "Leya's our clutchmate, see. And you'll do," this
presumably to the brownrider, "Tunic and all. Bet with Kassi, for color or
otherwise; she wants to get her marks back. ...And skinny, eh. Don't know
anyone around here like that."

M'kon chuckles in amusement. Most anyone looks rather small and petite next
to him, all skinniness aside. "Well...luckily, we don't call names much
here...though Kassima can swear a blue streak."

Kassima wonders hopefully, "Would you believe I'm omniscient? Wait--check
that; don't answer. I don't know, but I bet by m'hunches and sometimes come
out lucky. Would juice do, Is? I've another skin that I really shouldn't
drink, given that what you said about the necessaries is regrettably true."
She aims a kick at his leg for the skinny comment--though, given her lack
of agility, it's probably easy to avoid--and nods solemnly to M'kon. "Quite
right. I took notes when S'riv was at it, y'see."

Takar nods quickly. "Everyone's been plenty friendly. I really like the 
Weyr."

I'sai makes to, with an avuncular sort of smugness, deflect her kick with
his leather boot: the sort of thing that knocks feet sideways, but doesn't
hurt anyone any.

Leya grins at I'sai, "Thank you." She looks up at M'kon, then nods to
Takar, "I doubt anyone would do that here. Too many skinny people." She
grins wryly at Kassima, "Though you seem to come out lucky more often than
not lucky." She raises an eyebrow questioninly, "You took notes on 
swearing?"

Hurt, no; jar, yes, and that jarring is sufficient to send Kassi's
precariously-balanced hides and scrolls scattering hither and yon. Oh,
look, here's that blue streak now. "I should know better'n t'try things
like that these days," she mutters once the swear-fest is done and all
references to various parts of Faranth's, Mnementh's, and a diseased
wherry's respective anatomies have left the building. Very carefully, she
starts to roll the various scrolls and hides back up and stuff them into
the satchel for safekeeping. "Certes. Can you nay tell?"

I'sai says a so-solemn, "Oops." And a, "You're welcome, Leya."

Takar picks up the few hides that have fallen down to his level, and hands
them back to Kassima with the utmost care not to smear the writing.

Leya's eyebrows raise as she just stares at Kassi until she's done
swearing, "Oh. I see." She kneels down and begins to carefully pick up the
hides and scrolls, handing them to Kassi for her to put back in her
satchel. "Are you all right, Kassi?"

Kassima takes a moment to glare at I'sai before accepting the hides
somewhat more graciously. "Thankee, Takar, Leya. Aye, I'm fine--" One of
the papers of the bunch, one creased and a little smudged, crackles in her
hand. "Oh, Leya," she begins, glancing at it, "a'fore I forget
again--d'*you* have a contact at Igen Weyr? Someone who tells you what goes
on there?"

Igen. I'sai squints away the glare with limited effectiveiness, ears 
perked.

M'kon perks up a bit at Kassima, curious.

Leya frowns at creased and smudged paper, then looks up, "A contact? I
would call them 'contacts', but I have friends at Igen, yes. Several of
them stood there with me then," She nods toward M'kon, "With M'kon too.
They usually tell me what's going on when I get to see them. Why?" She
rests her hands on her knees as she looks at Kassi.

"Friends, contacts...." Kassi waves a hand in a vague gesture. "Nay the
same thing, but the first is the second. Anyone who might tell you what's
going on there, I meant." Upon seeing all those perked ears, her expression
turns rather sheepish. "'Tisn't aught so very interesting; I'm just looking
for news on one of the weyrbrats there. Ysaeve, Faerysa's daughter."

I'sai peeks a glance sideways at M'kon, brows up: someone he should be
acquainted with?

M'kon ohs a bit, "Haven't heard about her recently, Kassi...sorry. I aven't
been down there as much as I'd've liked."

Leya looks up at M'kon, then turns back to Kassi, "I'm afraid I haven't
heard any news about her either." She shrugs, standing back up. "I could
ask though, if you'd like. Anything specific that you want to find out?"

Takar grins thoughtfully at the riders. "Does everyone keep track of all
the relations around here? Human and dragon?"

I'sai asserts dreamily, "I know nothing."

M'kon chuckles, "Things would get complicated if we didn't." He one-arm
embraces I'sai a bit tighter. "Sure you don't, Master Nosy-crafter."

"Just how she fares. E'vrin asked me if'n I knew aught of her, last letter
he sent." Kassi holds up the creased paper as a visual aid. "Evidently, he
doesn't hear much from Igen, and I avoid the place even when I'm nay
spawning, so I can't really be helpful unless I can find someone else with
news. And *that's* an understatement, Myk--we'd all wind up with children
with two heads, three eyes, and tails."

I'sai grins up at him. "Shh, then they'll know," anything but reproof in
his voice; he adds afterward, "So you're saying, Kassima, if it weren't for
keeping track, -someone- would get desperate enough to go after the whers."

Leya raises an eyebrow at I'sai's tone, then chuckles softly as she hears
M'kon. "Oh, I see. Next time to go to Igen, or someone from Igen visits me,
I'll try to remember to ask about her. Ysaeve, right?" She giggles,
wrinkling her nose good-naturedly at Kassi's later comment. "I wouldn't. My
family isn't from a Weyr, so I hopefully I won't end up with any two headed
kids."

Tirdan walks in from outside the room.

Tirdan wanders into the galleries idilly looking around. He finds himself a
seat and glances at the sands intently.

Takar grins and chuckles a bit, then looks up to the new arrival with a 
nod.

"Quite possibly. I'd bet on a bronzer being the first t'crack," Kassi
replies sweetly. "Thankee, Leya; that's marvelously kind. Must admit, I'm a
bit curious about her m'self... and mine isn't either, or wasn't
*originally*. A slew of us seem t'have managed to end up here anyway." She
nods an amiable greeting to the newcomer. "Duties t'you and yours, 
visitor."

Tirdan runs a hand through his hair, pushing it out of his eyes. He
murmers, "Dunno how you can tell." He grins at Kassima, "And my duties to
Telgar." He looks across the sands again before adding, "Very nice clutch"

I'sai's turn to aim a mild kick Kassima's way, if while putting little to
no effort into it. "That's an awful thing to imply about ...your
Weyrsecond. The nerve," and he squints at Tirdan for good measure.

Kassima deflects it with a move similar to that used on her earlier; see,
she can be taught. "Oh, Tas would sleep with nigh aught that would stand
still long enough and wouldn't get him in trouble with May," she retorts,
though her light tone suggests a jest. "Faranth, the man's even leered at
*me* a'fore. And Solarith's just as bad." Shifting in her seat, she informs
Tirdan brightly, "Bonny clutch indeed; there're eight greens in it already,
unless I'm off the mark."

Leya giggles at I'sai and Kassi, "Ya'll are bad. Well, maybe some of mine
will follow me here, but who knows." She looks back over her shoulder as
she hears Tirdan, "And Telgar's duties to you." She smiles at the sands,
then waves hand toward I'sai, "His dragon sired that nice clutch."

Tirdan raises an eyebrow at I'sai's squint and asks, "Something wrong with
your eyes, sir?" His attention goes back to the lovely greenrider and he
grins, "Without a doubt. Eight lovely little ladies and plenty of young
gentlemen to wait on them wing and claw." He smiles back at the squinting
rider, "Congratulations, then, to your dragon"

I'sai plays lazy boneless lump, the current dishevelled state of his hair
doing nothing for even his skull; "Thank you," he drawls. "And yes, my ma
dropped me on my head when I was little, and then blamed it on the 
fosterer."

Leya laughs, shaking her head at I'sai. "So that's what happened... You
know, I'd been wondering," she teases.

M'kon snorts in amusement at that, and shakes his head. "I'/sai/."

M'kon says "He's got it wrong. They dropped a message drum on him..."

I'sai just -shakes-, laughing.

Tirdan laughs and shakes his head, those curls of his bouncing gaily. He
snorts at the realization of this fact and runs his hand through his hair
again. He doesn't comment at this. Best not to get in trouble.

Takar leans back in his seat, engaged at the moment in listening to the
riders' conversation. "I still say that one is a brown," he tells Kassima,
pointing out to the sandy, caramel one. It certainly doesn't look much
different from the rest, but the boy is far from an expert eye.

A'lex walks in from outside the room.

"That explains a great deal," Kassi decides, watching the three other
riders with considerable amusement. "Though I'd say 'twould take more'n
that--them using his head *as* a message drum, mayhaps... aye, Takar,
that's m'wager too. One of two browns thus far, unless that one is bronze,
as Myk suggested."

Leya laughs even harder as she hears M'kon, "But...wouldn't that...have
broken...something?" she says between fits of laughter. She peers hard at
I'sai, the serious squint incongruous with her teasing grin. "You /look/
normal. Huh."

I'sai deadpans, at least, once he's able to talk again, "It's amazing what
those instrument-makers can do in terms of repairs. Or even the littles, if
you're willing to waste some flour with the water."

A'lex pokes his head in for a moment, "How goes the fun in here?"

I'sai straightens up - slightly - "...Kassima's making accusations of
bronzeriders getting it on with whers. Worse than ovines, -I- say."

Leya grins, "So is that how you got your pasty complexion?" She blinks and
looks over as she hears A'lex, then grins at I'sai. "I'sai here is making
it /way/ to easy for us to pick on him."

Takar's face brightens a bit as his guess is confirmed, and he waves
cheerfully to A'lex. "Rinath is asleep for now," he notes, as though that
weren't obvious. "And I'sai is halfway there."

"*He's* the one who said if'n we didn't keep track of bloodlines, *someone*
would be bedding whers," Kassi protests, pointing at I'sai. "Blame him!
Him! Oh, aye, and g'deve, A'lex-sir."

A'lex blinks. "Um... she's... well, I guess that's something you'd really
have to deny on an individual basis."

Telgar Weyr> Kassima's mind segues: A'lex-sir: Alexsir: Elixir: Final
Fantasy VIII. It's a hopeless cause, I'm telling you.

M'kon snorts, then looks up at A'lex with a grin.

Telgar Weyr> Alyssa says, "You have a mind?"

Leya shakes her head sadly at Takar, "Sad, isn't it." She giggles, then
manages to smooth out her face, only a sardonic grin refuses to be wiped
away. "And how are today, sir?" she asks A'lex.

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "Well, no. But I have a mime. Will that do?"

Telgar Weyr> Alyssa says, "A mime is a terrible thing to waste. :) Evening,
all."

A'lex smiles at Leya, "I'm doing well. A weyrleader always does well on a
clutching day."

Kassima turns a smile on I'sai. "*See*. He knows Tas would do it, too."

I'sai thumbs his nose at Leya, tells Takar, "Three-quarters," and protests
generally, "It's just been a long day. As Telgar goes. Or a Telgar winter
day goes. Something like that...," and laughs Kassima's way.

Telgar Weyr> Kassima .o0(If a tree falls in the forest... and it hits a
mime... does anyone care?)

Telgar Weyr> Leya says, "No."

Takar laughs quietly. "Every conversation I've had here is a learning
experience," he muses out loud,regarding the group with an amused sparkle
in his eyes.

"But did you really want to learn these things?" Leya asks arching an
eyebrow and grinning.

I'sai admits, "Wouldn't help you on a journeyman's exams. But if you don't
have to worry about those..."

"We're a living, breathing lesson in Telgar: everything you didn't want
t'know, but are going t'find out anyway," Kassi agrees, closing one eye in
a wink. "Thirteen eggs thus far, 'Lex. Aren't they bonny? Eight are greens,
too."

Takar gives his short laugh again. "Oh, most of it's been useful. I'm not
sure if I should ask who this Tas is. Although, then again, maybe I should
know, from what it sounds like I might have to protect myself some day."

A'lex nods happily, "It's a fine day at Telgar, that's for sure."

Alyssa enters the galleries from the bowl.

Ceria enters the galleries from the bowl.

Ceria moves into the carvern and looks aruond briefly at the crowd gathered
before turning her gaze to the eggs on the sands.

Kassima clarifies helpfully, "Tas is T'saren, bronze Solarith's rider,
Duskfire Wingleader and Weyrsecond all in one nifty wher-seducing package."

Leya waves to Ceria as she walks in. "Be careful of I'sai. He's only
three-quarters of the way there, but then you probably already knew that,"
she says very seriously before cracking a grin. "Don't the eggs looks
great?" she asks nodding towards the sands.

Alyssa steps into the gallery and remains there, to one side, as is her
wont. As is her habit. And just looks at the sands and the newly laid eggs.

I'sai blinks mellowly at the arrivals from his lean; with Rinath drowsing,
Taralyth's playing guard. With the occasional paw-nudging-egg emphasis on
'play.'

Takar grins and nods towards Kassima, murmuring his thanks before he looks
up to wave towards Ceria and the other woman. He follows the general trend,
looking out at the thirteen eggs.

Kassima takes the liberty of propping her own feet up on the back of the
bench-tier in front of her, now that the hides are safely stowed. She
wiggles booted toes out at the clutch. "Which is your favorite thus far?"
she asks of no one in particular.

As Leya's gaze slides off of the eggs and back to the galleries, her eyes
run over Alyssa, continue for a moment then looks back. "Alyssa?"

Alyssa blinks out of her reverie and smiles faintly but warmly at Leya. 
"Yes?"

Tirdan shakes his head. He mutters, "Kind've dozed off there"

Takar peers intently out at the clutch. "I'm not sure why, but I like that
brownish one, the one I mentioned before, Kassima."

I'sai offers to Tirdan, "Kassima wanted to know if you," at least in
general, "had a favorite. I can't answer because, as Leya says, I'm
three-quarters out of it. Or something."

Tirdan blinks a few times and looks out over the eggs. He grins and points
toward the Forest's Depth Egg, "I like that one. It's got some nice color
to it"

Leya smiles at Alyssa, "Wasn't sure if that was you. Just came to see how
the eggs are coming along?" She grins at I'sai, "Actually you said that. I
was just quoting you." She peers at the eggs for several long moments, then
shrugs, "I really can't say. Not yet. I'd have to stare longer."

"That and to retrieve the Weyrleader." The longlegged rider of Adonith
eases in near-silence toward A'lex and adds, as she nears I'sai, "Fine
clutch so far, bronzerider."

Kassima, feet no longer in prime position to kick, fishes a mint stick from
her pocket to try and poke at I'sai with instead. "Won't be half-baked for
long, roasting out there on the Sands. The brown one...." The greenrider
gives this due consideration. "Nay bad. Nor's that one, though neither's
m'favorite thus far. I'm partial t'that one there--" She points the mint
towards the Ink-Swept Oblivion Egg. "Or there." Now it's jabbed towards the
Rhinestones and Satin Egg. "Nay sure *why* I like that one, but I do. It
reminds me somewhat of E'vis."

M'kon chuckles, "Looks like a fat man in gather finery two sizes too
small...why's that remind you of E'vis?"

Tirdan grins and nods, raven girls tossling back in his eyes. He pushes
them back impatiently and comments, "They're all nice. Hard to really pick
favorites."

I'sai straightens up just enough from his lean to venture a smile at Alyssa
- and never mind that Leya character - "All these compliments; I'll have to
ask Keara about that whiteroot casserole." And -then- grab for the 
mint-stick.

To I'sai Alyssa faintly smiles - for such an expression is common for her -
while she leans her cheek against A'lex's shoulder, lightly. Expressions of
affection are just not often made in public, not with her. "Whiteroot
casserole is a gracious gift, bronzerider."

"Because he's always wearing those white clothes--or black--with the glass
bits on 'em," Kassi attempts to explain, albeit not well; the explanation
is broken off by a yelp. "Hey! I'sai! Give that back!"

M'kon blinks at I'sai and Kassima owlishly.

"Soon," I'sai tells Kassima, snapping the token in half; "Ah, er, and thank
you, ...bluerider, ma'am. Have you encountered mint-sticks before, do you
care for them?"

Alyssa eyes the treat, then shakes her head once. "I do not much care for
sweets. But thank you."

Kassima eyes I'sai rather dubiously, and evidently decides to stay on the
safe side; she pulls another stick free for herself. "Should be interesting
t'see what the rest are like," she comments, a touch muffledly now. "Saskia
said she'd try t'get Rinath t'lay some red eggs for me, but we'll just see
whether or nay that works out."

"You're welcome," I'sai says politely enough, though pale eyes linger on
the tall woman for a time, distracting only for a speculative murmur about
caramelized whiteroot; "...You don't want half back, Kassima?"

Tirdan shifts in his seat, now lounging across the galleries more than
sitting. He watches the riders curiously, a grin curving at half of his 
mouth.

M'kon quietly fades into the background, arm still looped tightly around
I'sai.

Aisling enters the galleries from the bowl.

Aisling slips in as quietly as she can, trying not to disturb anyone else.

"Wouldn't *mind*," Kassi admits. "If'n you've nay done aught to it. Like
Ryi and her turnip-battered mint cookies; I'd nay put it past you t'dip the
poor thing in turnip juice if'n any were available." Fingers are wiggled
towards Aisling in greeting.

I'sai promises, "I didn't even lick it," and hands back the half, catching
sight of Aisling only at the wave; he tries on one of his own, to be polite
and all.

From the hatching sands, Taralyth, meanwhile, continues with his occasional
egg-toying; by now, Rinath has a crescent of sorts radiating out from her
forepaws like some great necklace, with a few strings of egg-blobs dangling
pendant from it. Or maybe, since he's a dragon, it's a dissected wherry.

Aisling grins at Kassi as she returns the wave..then extending it to I'sai
as well. His trousers are carefully eyed, just in case he was wearing his
gift..only a flash of disappointment to see that it isn't so.

Leya comes out of her egg gazing daze to smile and wave to Aisling. "Hiya."

Kassima accepts this half and tucks it neatly into her other cheek, now
resembling nothing so much as a broken-tusked walrus. "Fank oo," she says
with all solemnity. "Waf Tawwawif up foo?" is her next unintelligible
question.

I'sai's positively demure, leaning against his weyrmate as he is, licking
his mint-stick with the utmost gray-eyed innocence. "Hmm? Tariff? Aisling,
tell me -you- understand her."

"Um," Tirdan says oh so eloquently, "What huh?" He looks at I'sai and
breaths a sigh of relief as /he/ knows what Kassima was saying.

Alyssa has known Kassima for years. She just studies the eggs and remains
impassive.

Aisling considers for a few moments.."Tariff?..Taralyth? By chance..What
Taralyth up to?

Leya looks from Kassi's mint stuffed mouth, to I'sai's stick. She shrugs at
I'sai, she may not understand Kassi, but she understands the mint. "Hey,
Kassi, you have an extra mint stick that I could have?"

I'sai has two sticks. Well, two half-sticks, one of which he waves.
Tauntingly. "Up to? Why, ah, ... nothing -unusual-. I'm sure. ...Why do you
ask?"

"Aye!" Kassi exclaims, pleased. That much, she can say. "Ferfes. Fear, fay
fiss." Yet *another* stick--is the woman's bounty of these things as
boundless as the sea, her addiction as deep; the more she gives to thee,
the more she has, for both are infinite?--is procured, produced, proffered.
"Befause fes faffing fike a fwased fwher," is her response to bronzerider.

Telgar Weyr> Alyssa okays, bedtime. Cannot marry Romeo and Juliet and a
mint-stick. Assume I'm cuddled with Lex. ;) Night all.

Telgar Weyr> Kassima snickers and was wondering whether anyone would catch
the ref. ;) Night, Lys-Lady. :)

Tirdan perks suddenly and exclaims, "The last word! I got the last one.
It's Wher, right?"

Leya blinks her eyes, the most pitiful expression on her face as she stares
at I'sai mint sticks. She even sniffs, isn't that just pitiful? But this
all disappears as she hears Kassi, "Thank you, Kassi!" She says
cheerifully, grinning her hundred glow grin as she snatches the mint stick
from Kassi's hand and stick it in her to mouth to suck on it happily. "Good."

Kassima's emphatic nodding makes her resemble nothing so much as one of
those head-bobbing dogs people on another world stick on their dashboards.

About to melt under Leya's shenanigans, instead I'sai's eyes fly wide,
exaggerated or no; "Don't you imply that T'saren would - would - that's
just cruel, evil, and something else for which I don't have enough
adjectives."

Kassima carefully extricates the mint sticks from her mouth. "'Twasn't
implying Taralyth would fly a crazed wher; 'twas implying he was *acting*
like one, and where did T'saren come in?"

I'sai says grimly, through his teeth - and the mint-stick - something that
translates to, "What you said ...before."

Ptodek enters the galleries from the bowl.

Aisling blinks at I'sai then ohs softly as she looks to the eggs again

Ptodek wanders in, glancing about for people he knows. As he spots I'sai,
his face lights up and he hurries to greet the rider. "Is! hey, how ya
doing? I heard you guys had a clutching going on!"

Kassima's eyes cross in confusion as she tries to follow the unfamiliar
routes of Bronzeriderlogic. "So... if'n I tease about Taralyth acting the
wher by doing whatever he's doing with the eggs--and 'twas a tease,
i'truth, though I'm curious--then... I'm implying that T'saren would want
t'bed him? Now *that's* just sick and twisted and wrong, I'sai." She
shudders for extra effect, then replaces the mint sticks in her mouth and
waves a newly-freed hand to Ptodek. Her call of "Ista's duties!" is fffed
beyond all recognition.

I'sai even goes so far as to remove the mint-stick from his mouth to greet,
"Ptodek, welcome back! Yes, though Rinath's sleeping right at the moment,"
it's just Taralyth who's redecorating, "And Kassima's - yes! That's exactly
what I said. Wrong, wrong, wrong."

Leya is happily sucking away on a mint stick, twirling it between her
fingers as she does so. She lifts her one unoccupied hand to wave to
Ptodek. "'i!" she says cheerfully to Ptodek, 'h' sounds not working very
well with a mint stick in the mouth.

Ptodek raises an eyebrow. "T'saren wants to bed /who/?"

"Taralyth," Kassi manages to get out clearly, with some dextrous
manipulation of the sticks. "Or that's what *I'sai* thinks. You need t'be
seeing a Mindhealer, bronzer. You need t'be seeing a Mindhealer right away."

Tirdan looks at Ptodek in confusion. He shakes his head, "You got me. I
don't even know /who/ T'saren /is/"

Ptodek snorts with laughter. "Ah, it's good to be back!" Truth be told,
he's not looking his best-- rather weary, with a hint of circles under his
eyes.

Aisling just peers at I'sai at Kassi's words. "I don't think it would work
out."

"-You- said it, not me," I'sai grumps. "Isn't that right," and he points to
Tirdan anyway, and Aisling while he's at it, before leaning back into his
weyrmate's arm and going very, very quiet.

Tirdan nods, "Yeah, I guess so." He shrugs.

Kassima grumps, "Did *nay*. Don't believe him, you lot." She's not
precisely looking her best, either, what with this whole fat and tired and
swollen-ankled thing going, so perhaps she can be forgiven for taking a
moment to notice the same about Ptodek. "Has anyone told you today that you
look as though you've been dragged across the Red Star facedown?" she
wonders of the Istan.

Ptodek starts to make a face, but finishes up by laughing. "Well, no,
actually I'd have to say I haven't heard that one in at least a Turn," he
tells Kassima.

"You've just heard it again," Kassi points out, ever-helpful. "What're
those Istans doing t'you down there?"

Ptodek flushes slightly. "Ah, nothing really. It's just been a rough
sevenday." He looks away, evasive.

Tirdan pushes those terrible curls from his eyes and asks, "Rough? Howso?"

Aisling looks rather curious as she peeks at Ptodek. "Must have been"

"Do tell?" Kassi requests on the heels of the others.

Leya, for her part, raises her eyebrows curiously as she looks at Ptodek,
the mint stick still in her mouth, though that end in now considerably
slimmer than before.

Ptodek coughs. "Well.. one of the weyrlings almost started a fight with me.
And so it seems like half the weyr is mad at me. It's just been kind of
stressful."

Tirdan mutters about needing a haircut again before nodding, "I see.. "
That's about all he has to say for now.

Aisling winces, 'But he started it?'

Leya frowns, pulling the mint stick out off her mouth just long enough to
add her own questions, "What was the fight about?"

Kassima frowns, pulling out the sticks for a moment. "Weyrlings aren't
suppose t'fight, certes nay t'be starting fights. If'n *he* started it,
why's the Weyr angry with *you*?"

"There was this girl, and I thought he was sort of stringing her along, and
so I told her so," Ptodek explains. "And he got mad at me. We had an
argument. He was going to hit me, but his dragon woke up so he hit the wall
instead." He shrugs one shoulder, and adds in a small voice, "Well, a bunch
of people seem to think it was my fault."

Leya winces, biting off the long thin end of her mint stick. *crunchcrunch*
"That's bad," she states after she swallows the mint bits. "She's a friend
of yours?" She gestures toward the sands with her shortened mint stick.
"You stood with them?"

"They're all my friends," Ptodek mutters. "Or they were, anyway."

Aisling winces a bit, 'I am sorry'

Kassima cants her head to one side. "Bad of him t'take a swing at you, nay
entirely good of you t'bait him. Whose fault 'tis is a matter of
perspective, I'd say." One of the two sticks disappears in a final crunch.
"Mayhaps they'll get over their upset? It might help if'n you apologized,
too."

Ptodek tilts his head. "It might," he says. "I doubt Br'nal would let me
get close enough, long enough, though. We had to muck the dragon infirmary
together, and.. well, the weyrling staff made a big show of forcing him to
apologize for something trivial and stupid. So I'm not exactly his favorite
person on Pern."

Kassima scratches at the charcoal smear on her chin. "You could apologize
through an intermediary, I suppose. Or wait until the matter's had some
time t'cool and settle first."

Aisling rests her chin on the palm of her hand. "I think distance and time
to cool would be a good idea'

Leya nods, "Very good idea. Let him, and everyone else, cool down." She
twirls her mint stick between her fingers, "Meanwhile you can visit here.
We'll try not let anyone punch you."

Ptodek stuffs his hands into his pockets. "Yeah. I reckon it will work
itself out." He grins at Leya. "I certainly do appreciate that."

Tirdan rises with a stretch of his long arms. He tosses a wave, "Going to
go see if I can find some way to wake up. Clear skies"

"Just don't be in the crew of spectators when I spawn," Kassi suggests,
eyes twinkling. "Else I might maim you regardless of that promise. G'deve,
sirrah, and sleep well."

Leya smiles at Ptodek, "No problem at all." She waves a mint stick to
Tirdan. "I recommend the klah. It works the best. Too bad Kassi didn't brew
up any off M'kla's klah. That'd certainly wake you up," she says with a
twinkle in her eye.

Tirdan grins and nods, "Thanks. I'll give it a try"

Tirdan walks off towards the Central Bowl.

Ptodek snorts. "I wouldn't miss it for the world," he teases Kassima.

Aisling hides a yawn behind a hand, "I think I am gonna go see if I can
find Jav."

Kassima points out, only half in jest, "The Healers would be after me in a
split second if'n I got near the Klah while this pregnant, I'm afraid--and
Ptodek, just don't say I didn't warn you!" She slides a smile over to
Aisling. "Sleep well, then, and dream nay of mint sticks dancing in the dark."

Leya nods to Aisling, "G'night." She peers out at the dark bowl, "Not if
I'd want to find him around this time though. Who knows what'd he be
doing." She shrugs, "But, of course, that's up to you."

Aisling winces at Kass,'That would be scary indeed.'

Aisling walks off towards the Central Bowl.

Ptodek grins at Kassima and Leya. "I always forget it's so much later here."

Ptodek says "I hope I'm not keeping you from your beds or anything."

Kassima shakes her head, runner-tail swaying. "Nay truly. When I want
t'sleep, believe me, 'twill doze off wherever I am."

Leya smiles and shrugs, "I stay up late anyways. I'll go get some sleep
once Tovith wakes up himself and makes me so I'm not totally dead tomorrow."

Ptodek flips his hair out of his eyes. "So, you got any bets so far, Kassima?"

Leya laughs quietly, "Does she... How many browns did you figure are out
there so far?"

"You'd better," Kassi agrees with Leya, slipping into Wingleader Tone for a
moment. "A few on clutch size, a few on whether or nay there'll be a
queen--one on the first egg; I say 'tis a green, that Jasanik lad says 'tis
a brown. Two browns, eight greens, and three blues thus far, Leya."

Ptodek chuckles, shaking his head. "I guess you're a lot better at it than
I am. I tried running a pool for our clutch, and I barely broke even."

Kassima points out with some merriment, "I've had nigh all your lifetime
t'be practicing, Ptodek, don't forget! Practice, research, memory, and luck
are all you need t'be a successful gambler."

Ptodek blinks, curious. "How do you research what color's going to come out
of what egg?"

Leya wrinkles her nose at Kassi at her Wingleader Tone, then smiles out at
the eggs. "Which ones are which?" She turns to looks at Kassi, "Do the
different colors tend to come out certain kinds of eggs?"

Kassima peers down at her list, and recites, "Green, blue, green, blue,
brown, green, green, green, green, green, blue, brown, green. There's a
legend that some Benden-blooded bronzes come from white eggs, and
Benden-blooded greens from red, but who knows whether 'tis apt? I wager on
it now and then, though, just in case." To Ptodek, she shakes her head.
"Can't, but you can research the bloodline, get a good feel for what color
spread tends t'show itself--along with knowing which colors the Weyr's low
on; those seem t'be predominant. The dragons know, somehow."

Ptodek frowns dubiously. "Even if they /do/ know, how can they lay a
certain color on purpose? That would be like you deciding whether to have a
boy or girl," he says, eyeing Kassima's protruding belly.

Leya listens to Kassi, nodding at the correct times. A smile spreads itself
across her face, "She might be having both."

Kassima's gaze drops to her midsection. "Might," she allows. "I don't
really know what I'm having; so long as they're healthy and don't kill me
on the way out, I'll be happy. How is it that dragons know t'lay more eggs
a'fore and during a Pass than in an Interval, and more queen eggs then,
too? Nay anyone knows. They just do it, somehow."

"Oh, yeah, that's right," Ptodek says, grinning mischievously at Kassima.
"Who knows... she might even get a surprise and have three!"

Leya nods, "Three spawnlings with two heads, three eyes, and tails. Right,
Kassi?" she teases, tilting her head to one side as she grins.

TGW-Bowl>> Pliarth warbles as she comes in for a landing.

"*Two*!" Kassi corrects firmly, holding up the appropriate number of
fingers. "Only two! Obscenely fat as I am, I'm still nay fat enough for
*three*... and Leya, *I* have nay been bedding whers. I leave that to the
bronzers."

TGW-Bowl>> Ryialla slips off her green, a skin swinging from a strap on her
arm. Footsteps take her towards the hatching cavern.

TGW-Bowl>> Lysseth offers a drowsy rumble by way of greeting, from where
she's plunked herself near the Hatching Grounds entrance. Warmer there,
dontchaknow.

Ryialla enters the galleries from the bowl.

TGW-Bowl>> Tovith is curled up into a big brown ball, albeit a ball with
wings, and is fast asleep also near the entrance.

Leya grins, "All right, two it is." She scrunches up her face, "I still
think that's gross. Tas /really/ wouldn't do that, would he?" Please say no?

TGW-Bowl>> Pliarth oblingingly waddles over towards the warmer spot. Room
for one more?

Ptodek snorts with laughter. "They could be three little ones!"

TGW-Bowl>> Lysseth hesitates a moment, but does scoot over to leave more
room by the warm space. Blocking the exit, but what the hey. Nothing's too
good for greens.

TGW-Bowl>> Pliarth rumbles her thanks, and settles down - although there is
room enough for Lysseth to scoot back a tiny bit, if she so desired.

Kassima insists quite fervently, "The Healers said *two*, and *two* 'twill
believe--heya, Ryi! Tell these nice people I'm nay spawning triplets,
*please*?" Folding her arms almost protectively over her stomach, she
reassures Leya, "I don't think he would. Unless Solarith had just lost a
flight, mayhaps."

TGW-Bowl>> Lysseth does indeed so desire, and wriggles back into place with
a contented sigh. Warmth. Warmth is good.

Ryialla unshoulders the skin that swings from a strap on her shoulder. "I
may have cursed her withthree, but I fear it's only two. Which reminds me,
Kassi." She reaches in her pocket, and pulls out a small egg pot. "Couldn't
find anything else to put it in, so here. It's the last of the mint
frosting. No turnip cookies involved."

Leya closes her eyes and shakes her head, "A very bad flight..." she
mutters, then opens her eyes again. "Hi Ryialla. How's Ysaira doing?"

Kassima takes the pot just a touch warily. "Promise? Cross your heart and
hope t'fry, stick a dagger in R'val's eye?"

Ptodek smirks at Leya. He turns his head to look at Ryialla, and greet her.
"Hi, there. Long time no see."

Ryialla nods curtly. "Promise." She oblingingly shifts so Leya can see the
sleeping 'Saira, all snuggled tight in the carrysack - but on her back,
today. A smile, for Ptodek. "Heyla, Ptodek. Good to be seeing you again."

And watch Leya melt as she catches sight of Ysaira. "Ohhh," she practically
coos. "She looks soo cute when she's sleeping."

Kassima hesitates briefly, but then relaxes... though not without a worried
look for the curt nod. Digging out Yet Another Mint Stick, she dips it into
the frosting and proceeds to use it rather like a spoon. "Good," she
decides around a mouthful. "Have you come t'be exposing Ysaira to the evil
radiating from the clutch, Ryi? Eight greens already, there are."

Ptodek laughs! "Get her started early, is that it?" He wanders over to have
a look at the baby for himself.

It is just the mint frosting. Ryi knows perfectly well she can't pull
another over on Kassi /this/ soon. A quick look at the clutch, and a nod.
"Eight seems about right, aye." Leya gets a grin and Ryi asks, "Do you want
to hold her? She's pretty sound asleep - I don't think she'll wake up." 

Leya peers out at the eggs, then back at Ysaira. "I think she's safe as
long as they're still in their eggs." She then practically beams at Ryi,
"Can I? Really?

Ryialla chuckles at Leya. "One of these days, you'll have a child of your
own, and all that excitement you've got'll just wear right off." She
wanders over to where Leya is, and sits down, so that she can put the skin
where it won't wander before carefully slipping 'Saira out of the
carrysack. 'Saira scrunches her nose a little, but doesn't wake. "Here,"
Ryi says as she hands the little girl over. "Be sure to support her head.."
Ptodek gets a 'Sorry 'bout all this' smile, and Ryi asks, "How's Ista
treating you, anyway?"

Ptodek grins at Ryialla. "It's all right," he says, not entirely
convincingly, but he hurries onward, "It's good to get here and visit now
and then, especially to see eggs clutched. Have the Searchriders begun to
go out yet?"

"I don't think so, though they likely will as soon as the eggs are fully
clutched," quips Kassi. "Ryi's right, too, Leya. True, for the first few
days you'll melt every time the kidlet does something cute, but change a
few dozen sets of swaddling and see how long *that* lasts."

Leya holds out her arms, smiling that melting smile at Ysaira. "So cute..."
she murmurs, then looks up to smile shyly at Ryialla and shrugs. "Yeah, but
doesn't that mean I should enjoy other people's babies while I can before I
end with my own that'll ruin it all?"

A short, heavyset rider with a greying beard approaches, nodding curtly to
the group before he speaks. "Ptodek? You ready to head back now? I need to
get Friseth fed and bathed; he's getting a bit impatient for it."

Ryialla shakes her head at Ptodek. "Not yet. Soon enough, I imagine. And
hey, look at it this way - instead of freezing all the time, you get to
come visit and freeze right after being used to warmth." She grins, and
includes Leya in it. "Well. If that's what you /really/ want, then I'll not
stop you."

Ptodek quickly hides his disappointment. "Oh, sure," he tells the rider,
straightening himself and smiling 'round to all his friends. "It was good
seeing all of you. I'll try to come again soon."

Leya smiles at Ysaira, rubbing a finger gently along the little curled ball
that is Ysaira's hand. "So tiny..." she whispers. She looks and nods to
Ptodek, as her hands are rather full at the moment, "Clear skies. I hope
you'll get to visit again soon."

"*That's* reassuring, Ryi," Kassi murmurs around a mouthful of icing.
"Mmmm. Clear skies, Ptodek--and do visit again soon, hey? There'll be more
eggs t'see, don't be forgetting!"

"Oh, I won't!" Ptodek assures Kassi. "I'll come again as soon as I can beg
a ride..." and with that he's gone.

Ryialla waves to Ptodek as he leaves, calling out, "Clear skies." She slips
off the case and sets it next to her before retrieving her skin. "I live to
reassure, Kassi. Didn't you know that?" Ysaira continues to sleep blithely,
oblivious to everything around her. "Aye, she's still so small, but so much
bigger than when she was born."

Leya smiles back down at Ysaira, coos softly to her, something along the
lines of 'you're a cute one. Yes you are.' and so forth. She then looks
Ryialla, "I'd actually rather you did stop me if you thought I was about
let myself spawn. Not yet." She glances sideways at Kassi, "I still have
time."

Telgar Weyr> Leya finds a quote by Mark Twain that reminded me of
Kassi-"When we remember that we are all mad, the mysteries disappear and
life stands explained." :)

"Mmm-hmm," Kassi replies, sounding both disbelieving and rather amused.
"Certes, you do. As much as any greenrider does. She truly is adorable,
Ryi--but then, you already know that." She leans over to peek at the
baby-bundle, an expression of mush creeping over her face. "You do, Leya,
you do. Plenty of time."

Telgar Weyr> Kassima lauhs! I like that. :)

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "Laughs, even. This keyboard sucks."

Telgar Weyr> Ryialla thinks you need a new 'g' key.

Ryialla nods in agreement. "Aye, you do, Leya. Plenty of time. Just look at
the two of us oldsters, popping out sprogs all over the place.."

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "G-key, and D-key, and M-key, and H-key, and
V-key, and...."

Telgar Weyr> Ryialla says, "...new keyboard.."

Leya smiles at Kassi and Ryi, looking reassured. She turns a little toward
Kassi so that she can get a better look at Ysaira, her finger still gently
caressing the sleeping babe's hand. "Sprogs? Never heard that term before."

Telgar Weyr> Kassima nods solemnly. Though this one's served me well,
considering the four years of heavy abuse.

Kassima reaches out one still-slim finger to try and caress that plump baby
cheek. "They're always so *tiny*," she murmurs. "Even if'n they don't feel
that way when they're born. Feh, Ryi, who're you calling old? We're in the
prime of our youth! When I'm sixty, now, you can call me old."

Ryialla snorts. "Aye. They feel like passing melons when they're born. And
I do mean /multiple/ melons at once. Not just one." There's a playful grin
there as she adds, "Okay, Kassi. You're not old. I'll be 40 in a couple of
months. Expect much whining." She uncorks the skin and takes a swig, then
offers it out. "'Tis just juice. Did either of you want some?" 'Saira stirs
a little, under that caress.

Leya frowns and mutters something that sounds suspiciously like 'never
spawning', but it's muffled. She smiles and shakes her at Ryialla, "No
thank you." She looks down at Ysaira, peering closely to see if she's going
to wake up.

A smile sappy enough to make a gallon of syrup from spreads across Kassi's
face. "Awwww...." She withdraws the finger, though, not wanting to wake the
baby. "Multiples of multiples for me, and thankee for the reminder, Ryi.
You're nay old *either*, for the record. Just crazy. I'd normally like
some, but given how far the necessaries are from here...."

Ryialla nods, recorking and setting skin down. "Aye. Likely not a good
idea, then. And thank you. I do appreciate the compliment. So..." She rubs
her hands together. "What's the betting looking like so far, Kassi? You can
put me down for 37, for a final egg count - if it's not too late, that is?"

Leya just keeps smiling that eternal dreamy smile at Ysaira. Once she stops
stirring and has been still for a while she reaches out and gently strokes
her tiny little nose.

"Let me check m'notes...." Riff--err, Kassi does indeed consult the hides.
"About what you'd expect. Many bets for the low t'mid thirties
range--unproven queen, unproven sire, relatively short flight; few for
forty or more, fewer still for below thirty. I've placed a bet on
thirty-three and a smaller bet on forty or above, just in case; odds like
those are hard t'be resisting. Certes 'tisn't too late--how much are you
wanting t'place?"

Ryialla considers - although not without a smile for the dreamy Leya and a
teasing aside, "You'd think she was sweet over a beau and not a babe, with
that look.." A moment or two, and Ryi says, "Unproven queen, unproven sire,
short flight..no, still 37. I've a hunch. But I think I'll play this one
conservatively - call it a half a mark, then, and I'll put a 32nd on 40 or
above, just to try my hand at the odds. Must say, there's some wonderfully
good looking eggs out there. Very pretty."

Leya looks up to wrinkle her nose at Ryialla, letting out a little snort.
She glances out at the eggs, smiling. "A good clutch." She looks at Ysaira,
her expression dreamily contemplative as she studies her cute little face.

Kassima echoes, gazing out at them a moment herself, "Very." The 'awww'
mostly melts away when she looks at the eggs, replaced by wistful wonder.
"So many clutches, there've been, and I'm awed by every one. Anyway. It
should be interesting, seeing which ones the Candidates choose as
favorites." She glances back towars Leya and Ysaira. "Well, if'n she gave a
beau a look like *that*, she'd be apt t'wind up with a babe of her own soon
enough," she teases.

Leya glances sideways at Kassi, smiles slyly, then whispers, not all that
quietly, to Ysaira, "Did you hear that? As if anyone could ever find any
man that'd be as cute as you. Imagine."

Ryialla quirks a smile at Kassi. "We'll know soon enough." She looks out at
the sands again, and murmurs, "But there'll be so many more clutches. So
many more dragons.." The look returns to Leya. "Aye. There you go, Leya.
When you want the spawn, just give the future father that look, and you'll
be assured of it. And drink the Water, too."

"So many more *greens*," Kassi murmurs, the satisfaction of her tone
probably Lysseth's doing. "And fine males t'be flying them. Ach, Leya, I'm
nay debating that one! Nay that men aren't good-looking, but I'll deny ever
getting as mushy around any of 'em as I do around bairns." Not that she
*hasn't*. She'll just deny it.

Leya chuckles quietly, "Thanks for warning me. I'll be sure never to either
of them. Well, at least the look part, I really can't help but drink the
Water." She grins over at Kassima, "Glad you agree." She strokes Ysaira's
arm, "I'm sure she's glad too."

Ysaira's marineish, turquoise banded eyes open rather slowly. Still a
sleepyhead, she looks up at Leya solemnly.

Ryialla mms. "I can't say as I've gotten mushy over either, truly. Maybe a
little over my own children, but.." She shrugs.

Leya's own deep sapphire blue eyes widen as she see Ysaira open her.
"Oh..." she breaths. She giggles softly. "You have some very pretty eyes.
You know that?" she whispers to Ysaira.

Kassima advises, "Drink juice all the time, and never klah or Water
straight. Those things will help." Exhaling an exaggerated sigh, she
admits, "I may have gotten a *bit* mushy over Jhor, I suppose, and even
over Ev now and then, but I reserve most of m'mush for small children and
dragonets. Both entirely too cute, in an unfinished-looking sort of way."

TGW-Bowl>> Tovith stirs, lifting his head out from under his wings. He
peers around sleepily, then turns his head, his wings rustling, to stare
intently at the entrance to the hatching cavern.

Leya frowns at Kassi, "But I like klah..." Her eyes unfocus for a few
moments, her frown deepens, finally her eyes refocus and she sighs deeply.
Evidently she lost the arguement. She looks wistfully down at Ysaira then
up at Kassi and Ryi, "I have to go. Tovith woke up," she shrugs her
shoulders in a helpless gesture.

Ryialla nods. "I must agree, truly. Feline spawn, too. There's just
something about babies of almost anyt sort that cause some people to turn
to goo." And to Leya, "Aye. She's her father's eyes, for sure." She holds
out her arms, to retake the infant.

"I've as yet been spared feline spawn... but I have t'be admitting, Kirri's
pretty adorable when she's nay destroying things. She's the spawnlings'
baby ferret. Regards t'Tovith, and sweet dreams t'both of you, Leya."

Leya carefully adjusts Ysaira in her arms so that she can give her safely
back to Ryialla. "Very pretty eyes," she repeats as she hands her back. She
stands up, brushing the wrinkles out of her tunic, stretching, then finally
a wave. "Thanks. G'night." She nods to Kassima, Ryialla, smiles one last
sappy smile at Ysaira, giving her her own little wave before walking toward
the bowl entrance. "I'm coming..." she mutters, her voice drifting back.

Leya walks off towards the Central Bowl.

Ryialla calls out to Leya, "Clear skies, Leya. " She settles 'Saira back in
her arms, and bends her head to smile down at her daughter. "You were good.
Yes you were.."

Kassima chuckles softly at the greenrider-daughter pair. "She has nay yet
learned the ways of evil?"

TGW-Bowl>> Tovith huffs as Leya finally arrives, sticking his muzzle in her
face, which Leya just bats away. "As bad as my mother. Yes, you are." Leya
climbs up on the solid foreleg and crosses her arms. "Fine. Then lets go."
Tovith warbles sweetly to the greens a farewell for both of them, then
launches into the air.

TGW-Bowl>> Tovith takes flight, using the thermals rising from the bowl to
carry him aloft.

Ryialla chuckles. "Oh, she's learned them. But there's times for evil and
screaming one's head off when there's a sleeping queen on the sands isn't
one of them."

Kassima allows, with a rueful grin, "You have a point. But speaking of
points, that point I made about the necessaries awhile back is entirely too
true... would you feel terribly abandoned if'n I skipped out on you?"

Ryialla shakes her head. "No. I'll just stay here for awhile, show 'Saira
the eggs, have some juice...just relax. You have to go? Then go." She
smiles warmly at Kassi.

Kassima smiles back at Ryi, even as she struggles to her feet. "You're a
jewel, Ryi. Don't ever let anyone be telling you differently. 'Twill see
you on the morrow, more likely than nay... g'night and clear skies t'you
both." She gathers up her things, and hastens a bit out of the Cavern. It
*is* a long way to those necessaries.

You walk off towards the Central Bowl.