--------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Battle of Bastings


Date:  December 17, 2004
Places:  Master Beasthall's Pond and Great Hall.
Game:  PernMUSH
Copyright Info:  The World of Pern is copyright(c) to Anne McCaffrey 
l967. The Dragonriders of Pern(r) is a registered copyright.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kassi's Note:  Beastcraft's Gather ended in an outdoor barbeque... or 
was supposed to end thus.  Between the rain and the Apprentices 
whacking each other with chicken extremities, it didn't quite end up
that way.  But hey, the meat-fight at least gave Kassi a chance to 
win a bet with Cailin, even if the Journeywoman won't pay up! ;)  As
is usual when Kassi and Cai are involved, there's plenty of talk to 
go with all the eating.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------


The Log:

You go over towards the meadow containing the pond.


Event Table:
For the final event of the Beastcraft Gather, there are rows of tables near
the pond area, colorful centerpieces on each table. Nearby the barbecue
spits are turning, sending a wonderfully rich and spicy aroma into the air.


Learan is speaking with Kristine as the revellers start to gather. "The
clouds don't look too threatening," he says, staring skywards.

Kristine's attention is divided between Learan's comments and watching a
couple of apprentices 'fence' with ribs. "At least no one will get a
sunburn. And the rain will probably hold off until tonight. If it even rains."

Kassima's route to the Pond is a slow one. The reason for this might be
that she keeps pausing to look over her shoulder, although there's no one
there, and standing thus a moment or two; even odds are on some extended
conversation with Lysseth, particularly since on her final turn away from
the road she mutters, fondly, "Wench." The fencing Apprentices are the
first thing to catch her eye, and she comments to no one in particular,
"'Twill put a thirty-second on the one on the right--duties t'Beastcraft
and her Masters, and g'day."

Cailin's just making her way down the path from her cottage. No sign of
Cain with her just now, but she casts a glance behind her, then moves on to
join the gathering in time to reply to Kassi on her arrival, "I'll cover
that." A bet not on runners? Scary. "Beastcraft's duties to Telgar." Then
adopting a more teasing tone, "Did you even go home, Kassi? Or should we
get you a cothold?"

Learan gives Kassima that look one gives that odd relative that no one
really knows what to do with. Certainly, she's welcome, but there is
reservation. "Beastcraft's duties, Kassima. I trust you and Lysseth are
doing well?" He nods to Kristine. "I'm sure there won't be any problem with
the weather. Now, about some of the help." He gives a stern look to the
fencing apprentices.

Kristine rolls her eyes and murmurs, "I'll deal with them," and gives Kassi
a a wave and brief greeting before leaving her to Learan's tender mercies.
By the time Kristine has arrived to where the ribs are flailing around,
another set of apprentices has joined in.

Kassima nods in satisfaction when Cailin meets her bet, a heartbeat before
flashing the Herder in question a grin in greeting: "I went home," she
assures. "And dreamt the most wonderful, scotch-flavored dreams. Nay that
I'd exactly say nay to a cothold since the mental image of various persons
of my acquaintance's reactions t'learning I had a living place in
Emasculator Central entertains me greatly." Imagine such a thing.
Thankfully, odd relative or no, she does not go to pinch Learan's cheek or
even offer him an ugly homemade sweater; she cheerfully answers instead,
"Most excellently, Craftmaster, and we thank you for the question.
Everything smells and looks lovely." Kristine gets a nod of salutation too,
and the greenrider hides a grin for the spread of the rib-fight.

Whack....parry...whack....whack.....and sauce goes flying as the ribs smack
against each other.

 Kristine pictures boys using chicken legs next and holding up
plates as shields.

 Kassima says, "And wearing salad bowls as helmets?"

 Kristine says, "With curls of onions draped over their ears"

Cailin laughs lightly, "Aww, but had a bet on those two, Master Kristine."
That called after Kris as she goes to deal with the miscreants, then she
turns back to add, "Scotch-flavored dreams, eh? I can't say as I'm
surprised. And perhaps you can make a deal with our esteemed Craftmaster
then, for the living space." Cai does so like the feel of impending doom, no?

 Cailin giggles :)

 Learan facepalms.

 Kristine dips Learan in sauce

Kristine attempts to break up the rib battle, but it seems to be spreading.
Chicken legs are being added as weapons and definate sides are forming.

"Methinks those two have become those four. I wonder how many there could
be." Kassima seems entirely too intrigued by the idea of mass rib-fighting,
perhaps because she's still distant enough that she hasn't been splattered
yet. Key word maybe being 'yet.' She murmurs to Cailin, "I have this vision
of dozens of Apprentices fighting a valorous battle with weapons of meat...
a vision that I probably should ignore. And most definitely dismiss a'fore
I get any ideas of claiming the leadership of one of the groups and leading
them in victory over the other." She doesn't seem or sound serious, which
is a blessing; with lifted brows, she suggests, "Mayhaps if'n I could
wrangle an arrangement with the Vintners for more of their magnificent
distillations? That could be a... look, look! I think my side's winning!"
Sure.

K'tdan comes in from the road to the west.

Kaimi comes in from the road to the west.

A wielded chicken leg fwaps the craftsecond across the cheek, leaving a
red, sticky smear of sauce. Kristine bellows 'Enough' and 'Stop right this
instance' but the spectators and participants aer cheering too loudly for
her to be heard.

Learan is approached by the Headwoman who informs him the meal is ready.
"Your attention please!" he calls out loudly as the servers start placing
platters piled high with all sorts of tasty meats freshly broiled. "In the
name of all of us at Beastcraft, I welcome you to the Summer Barbecue. Now,
if everyone will just take a seat, we can begin." He heads towards the
closest empty seat. Today, there is no recognition of rank.

The rib and leg battles slowly start to drift off as the crowds become more
interested in eating than cheering on the fighters and Kristine grumbles,
heading to her cothold to change out of her saucy garments.

Cailin's own reply is a sage nod as she considers the combatants. "And just
to think. We could simply toss the lot of them in the pond after the battle
has run it's course. Ease of clean up there." Then she shakes her head, "No
that one is on my side. That one there is on yours. Or was it that one."
Whom ever it was, will have to wait as she turns her attention to hear
Learan, before adding to kassima "Come on, before we lose the good seats to
our warriors."

Learan takes his seat and starts to pass along the meat platters. As things
like the summer salad, cooked rivergrains, and fingerroots make their way
to him, the Craftmaster fills his plate with such items.

K'tdan tries to spot a pair of seats amongst the crowded tables, finally
finding one between two Keroonian farmers. "Hello. Hello," he greets his
tablemates, pulling out a chair for Kaimi.

Kassima is bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet much as she did
during the runner race, although the application of a chicken leg to
Kristine's face does get her to clap her hand over her mouth in commingled
surprise and the need to stifle laughter. However, Learan's call triggers
the more formally-mannered part of her and drags her attention--at least
momentarily--from the battle most valiant. "'Tis already the best barbeque
I've ever been to," she comments brightly. "For the floor show alone.
Wouldn't that leave the pond full of barbeque sauces, though?" She's still
pondering such matters as she bobs her head agreeably and heads towards an
empty seat, snagging it and the one next to it right before an erstwhile
combetant can set up camp there. "I *think* you owe me a thirty-second. Oh,
duties t'Ista and her queens too," she adds, spotting the Istan visitors
and grinning over to them. "You missed a chance t'wager, Kat! For shame!"

Kaimi accepts the offered seat with a warm smile, sliding from his arm to
the chair, then nodding greetings to those on either side of their newly
claimed seats. "It all looks so good. I'll have to compliment Timothy on
presentation at least...later."

"The best already?" Cai asks in amusement as she moves to take a seat fro
herself now, "It might. There is that. But I'm not so sure very much will
land there." She points at a lad licking it from his fingers then
considers. "Mayhap I do. Yours might have had the upper hand. But I think
the battle was called before there was a distinctive winner." The Istans
then spotted as well, she gives a wave of her own, before taking the first
dish to be passed along.

K'tdan fills his plate as platters and bowls are passed along. "What? On
the runner race?" he asks, making a tut-tut sound. "I never bet on runners,
Auntie. You should know that," he reminds her. "How'd you do?" He passes
along the next platter.

Learan just concentrates on the festivities since the Craftsecond has gone
to take care of the combatants. Helpful staff swoop in to clean up the mess
as thoroughly as they can, but there's only so much they can do.

Kassima is distracted for some while by the need to fill her own plate as
the platters go by, helping herself to this and that--mostly items suited
to a carnivore's palate. "'Tisn't every day you see people fighting with
chicken legs," she reasons to Cailin. "'Tisn't even every Turn. Which I
think is a shame. It should be a regular event. I'm going t'be too fat
t'get on m'dragon after eating all this, you do realize." Passing a plate
along, she answers K'tdan, "Nay the runners! The rib-fight. Grand and
glorious 'twas, if'n brief. I do most excellently, the moreso because of
the Craft's hospitality; I've enjoyed the Gather terribly much... and you?"
She includes Kaimi in this query, smiling to the other woman. "Haven't had
much chance t'taunt you mercilessly since you got saddled with the position
of doom and dismay."

K'tdan just smiles at the woman he calls Auntie in a pleasant, if confused
manner. "I'm sure it was quite the to-do," he comments before taking a bite
of a porcine rib. "Mmmm... My compliments to the cooks, Craftmaster," he
calls out.

"Auntie." Kaimi repeats, and then shifts in her seat enough to look where
Kat does in time to wave to both cousin and Telgarian, "Oh I see. Ista's
and Baker's duties, of course." Getting that out of the way before
replying, "I didn't get away for it myself before this evening, thought
Kat's been kind enough to see I don't miss it all." But to said
bronzerider, she then adds more quietly, "Why not on runners?"

Learan holds his glass up as the server with the wineskin passes, waiting
for it to be filled before commenting, "Is there nothing you will not bet
on, Kassima?" He sips his wine as he waits for the reply, nodding to the
Istan Weyrleader.

K'tdan replies quietly back, "Because the jockeys can be influenced." He
starts on a rather large chicken leg.

"Well true. and it was a fine battle to be sure. But alas, my team needs
more coaching I suppose. But they did quite well for untrained troops." But
what does Cai know of such matters, really? Her own plate fills with a mix
of the dishes, but she's quiet then until, "That's a very good question. Is
there?"

Kassima wiggles her fingers to claim the Auntie title, though not without
an amused face. "Kat's one of the very few grown men who can get away with
calling me that. Duties t'Baker too, aye, and good t'see you, Craftsecond.
I missed the first night m'self, but I rather enjoyed the racing. Even
though I lost." She's quick to claim a share of the wine too, smiling
brightly up at the servitor who brings it. "There might be *some* small
things, Masterherder--but very few. So long as I feel I have some fair shot
at winning. Wagering blind doesn't have so much appeal in it. Mayhaps,
Cailin, you could be the one t'train 'em? I can just see that." No doubt.

The weather, while cloudy, has been pleasant. A cool breeze takes away much
of the heat from the plains, and has the added benefit of taking the smoke
from the spits away from the tables. However, this all changes rather
quickly as suddenly the clouds open up and torrents of rain begin to drench
everyone and everything. As can be expected, people begin to scatter,
upsetting many chairs, and a couple tables. The cooks and staff quickly
step in to try to save the food. Learan, grabbing plate and glass as he
stands, calls out, "Into the Great Hall!"

Kaimi ohs silently and then gives a light smile, "I do suppose that would
take the fairness out of it all, wouldn't it?" She turns then to Kassima,
"Good to see you as well. -- That few a number of grown men that the title
could be claimed by? Or just a special allowance?"

"I could spend some time training them, I expec..." But Cailin gets no
farther before that downfall hits. and soon enough she following the most
sensible call to get in out of the rain. Plate in one hand, drink in the
other, "Don't need to tell me twice." She calls out cheerfully and hurries
to duck inside.

Kassima had just raised a sauce-laden rib to her mouth and sunk her teeth
in when the rain begins to fall. It may be just as well, since this means
her surprised curses are too muffled to be coherent. Leaving the rib
between her teeth, she grabs up her plate to follow orders--only managing
to reply to Kaimi with, "Mmrph mmmph, mrgl frmmfn glrf."

Cailin goes west, entering the lounge.

 Kassima says, "And thus is Kassi's secret identity as the teacher
in the Charlie Brown specials revealed. ;)"

 Cailin laughs! :)

You stoop, and enter the poorly-lit lounge.

 Learan laughs.

Cailin opens the door to the Herder Hall's main hallway and goes through.

You open the door to the hallway and step through.

You go through the wide, open doors.

Cailin's laughing as she enters the Hall, still carrying her dinner and
just ahead of Kassima, "Well, see. Now we don't need t'throw the troops in
the pond t'clean them up. We could just lock them out in the rain a spell."

Even a rain squall doesn't seem able to break the festive mood of the
revelers. "Many pardons for the interruption to the meal, my friends," says
the Craftmaster as he moves to the usual table for the leadership of the
Hall. "The cooks are salvaging as much from the spits as they can. Please,
enjoy. I'll see about finding more casks to make up for this." He smiles at
those in attendance.

Kassima has her plate in one hand and her drink in the other, so it takes
her a moment--during which she casts Cailin some amused, helpless, and
rather damp looks--to figure out what to do with the rib stuffed in her
mouth. Eventually she finds a section of table to set her glass down on
long enough to remove it and put it back on her plate. "They'd probably
find some way t'have a rain-fight," she comments. Then pauses. "Which I for
one would almost pay t'be seeing. Nay apologies necessary, Craftmaster;
'tis a treat t'attend a barbeque so brimming with eventfulness." She seems
sincere about this. Taking up her cup again, she scans for a suitable seat.

Cailin's amused at the rider predicament with the rib, but waits to say
more until she speaks again, "They could use the mugs to through water at
each other. They'ed fill quick enough in this." She sets her own meal down
and turns her attention to Learan while knotting back soaked hair from her
face, "Salvaged dinner and more casks sound just the thing to keep the
festivities going as well."

Learan doesn't take a seat at the Head Table, since this event is not rank
specific. He moves down to sit with Kassima and Cailin, once they've
decided where that is. "It seems to be a Beastcraft tradition to have
something unexpected happen at any event," he says, not lamenting this
unplanned tradition.

"And if'n any meat does turned up ruined, I have this hunch they'd be only
too eager t'use that in their war. Smacking each other with wet chicken
extremities. That's such a surreal picture." Kassima swipes her forelock
back away from her eyes; most of her hair, though damp, has stayed in its
braid, but the forelock is sodden. She sinks into a seat next to Cailin and
nods a hearty agreement with her latter sentiment--probably for 'more
casks,' knowing her. "Does that usually occur?" she asks Learan in
surprise, reaching for the rib again. "I haven't been t'many Beastcraft
events in recent Turns, I must confess it. The last two I heard about were
your wedding and a baby shower?"

Cailin chuckles as she settles into a chair, giving Learan a smile in the
process, "You wouldn't want us to get predictable, now would you? Not that
I'd share the secret of how we got the weather to oblige tradition mind
you, if I knew." She gives Kassima a wink, "I'm sure what they don't save
will be put too good use however. Though the picture you paint, I agree
sounds surreal."

 Learan says, "Okay, I just got the okay to go home early. Bye!"

 Kassima snugsaLearan. :)

 Cailin woo! Night Boss :)

Kassima decides after a few bites of barbeque--and some blissful eye-rolls
that suggests she finds said barbeque very good indeed--"I think they
should do it. It could be a Gather event! A Gather game, even: attendants
could be split into teams and have t'duel with legs and ribs and other
animal parts until one side is deemed victorious. Realistically I know
'twould be too much of a waste of good food, but at the same time... I
would entirely and swiftly sign up for that, if'n anyone ever did it."

"It'd certainly gain more attention than a runner shoe toss. Just the
novelty of it alone. Then add the sure silliness that Herders would even
consider that usage for the product of their labors..." Good thing Learan
got distracted from hearing the plots of these two. Cailin glances about
the Hall then and chuckles, "Looks like that cousin of mine got lost on the
way in. Probably should have waited to see she found her way, I expect."

Kassima's nod is far too enthusiastic. "Nay that a runner shoe toss
wouldn't be fun too--was there one and I missed it? I'd have signed up for
that. But it just doesn't have the same razzle-dazzle as fighting with
bovine ribs." Someone's definition of razzle-dazzle is seriously skewed. "I
suppose we *could* duel with the bones after all the meat's been stripped
from 'em. Then naught would be wasted. Little bit more grisly, though. Huh;
I didn't see Kat come in, either...." She glances about the Hall, just to
be sure. "They looked as if'n they came together. Mayhaps Kat's taking care
of her."

"It's set up in the tents." Cailin supplies with a grin. Maybe some will
still want to play after dinner." If they want to brave the rain rather
than drink? "Certainly not the same razzle-dazzle. And that might be a bit
less messy too, but that just takes away some of the fun." She gives a wink
for that. Agreeing or teasing, maybe both. "With Kat... Aye, yes. I expect
that's likely. More than likely. I do hope he lets me at least *speak* to
her before whisking her back home. Not often she's pried from those
kitchens of here." Just like it's not often Cailin's pried from her own craft?

"'Twill have t'see if'n I can round someone up," Kassima agrees, "although
if'n 'tis after all this feasting and wine, it might turn into drunken
shoe-tossing, and that sounds interestingly hazardous. Unless the rain
keeps up... just so. 'Tis only right that the Herders should have some
gloriously messy events, isn't it?" Her grin is unrepentantly merry: tease
for tease. "I'd heard that they're a pair of sorts, a'course. I don't know
her very well, though; the last time I saw her was at the dinner K'ran
hosted for the retirement of some of Telgar's Wings," said slightly flatly,
"but that's probably because I don't often go to Ista and usually just
visit with Kaylira when I do. Has she had the chance t'meet your boy yet?"

"Drunken shoe-tossing. You know, there might be some that'd still be up for
that. Add a bit of extra risk for the sport." Not that Cailin's seeming to
add herself to that list, "Nothing wrong with a good messy event. Nothing
at all." She proclaims sagely and then give another of those winks before
looking thoughtful over the rim of her cup as she drinks. That set aside
she says, "They have a kid together, so of sort t'be sure. She only
mentions him, even though her last wasn't. And he's dropped things off for
her before. Took things back too, if I had something ready. A wing
retirement, eh?" Then a nod, "She's met him, aye. Took care of him for me
while I was at Ista for Shimshon's shoeing demo."

Kassima drawls after swallowing a bite of chicken, "Just watch me try it
and end up in the Infirmary after having been clonked upside the head with
a shoe. Wouldn't my Weyrleaders love *that*... 'twould in fact be such a
bizarre thing that I almost think I have t'risk it now, because what a
story 'twould be t'tell. Note the 'almost,' though." There's a moment or
two more spent chewing. "Kaitria. Aye. I keep some tabs on Kat--he's
m'namesake, which is why he gets away with the 'Auntie' thing. A child
together certes doesn't always mean aught in the Weyrs, but I've heard her
name mentioned in conjunction with his more than once. Aye." There's that
hint of flatness again. "The Weyrleader saw fit t'retire three of Telgar's
Wings from service. There was a dinner to... commemorate the occasion.
Kaimi was there for the Bakers--and she made it worth attending, she and
everyone who worked on the food, because it was magnificent. There was this
*lovely* spicy dish. I think they called it a curry? Wonderful."

Cailin chuckles softly, "Aye. Maybe better to skip the drunken part of the
game. Wouldn't want a Hall-Weyr incident like that. Us having t'be
accountable for your health and all. Unless of course you signed a waver,
then they'd know it was all your choice and all." Someone lived at Bitra
too long, "Aye. I wouldn't think much of it. He being the father I mean,
with her living in a Weyr, other than she seems fond of him. Mayhap I'll
ask her outright. And nothing wrong with keeping tabs. I do of my Kin, at
least loosely. Even if I don't talk with them much." She pauses then, "That
a usual thing to do, after a Pass? Retire wings?" Then a slow grin, "Curry
hmm? Sounds interesting."

Kassima makes an amused sound. "Oh, methinks those at Telgar would know on
whose head the blame for *that* sort of injury would fall, and nay blame
your Hall for it. I'd be willing t'sign a waiver if'n need be--but I doubt
m'leaders would hear 'drunken shoe-tossing' and think, 'Oh, well, she was
surely *lured* into that. Down with the Herders!'" She waves a rib around
to somehow emphasize the point. "Might be worth the knowing. Kat's a good
lad--man, shells, I should be saying now, only he does seem t'get around
when it comes to women. Mayhaps Kaimi would want t'talk about it. Or nay.
Usual?" She lapses into another spate of nibbling on her food. The timing
of this one, however, may be deliberate. "I'd nay think so," she finally
says. "I'm nay a goldrider t'know Records in and out; but I don't think
other Weyrs are doing it, and I... didn't see much need. 'Tis a better
solution than those suggested by *some*, and I'm certainly grateful m'Wing
was spared. But. Mayhaps you could ask her t'pass the recipe on to the
Beastcraft cooks while she's here? If'n she'd be willing? Because it really
was terribly good, if'n you like spice. Caprine was the meat, methinks."

Cailin laughs, "Yes, well I suppose that is probable. They'd know where to
place such blame easy enough." The next gives her pause, "Aye. I thought he
got a round a bit. Saw a greenrider here the other night that I'd seen
before in his company. She was with another, but had a odd reaction t'the
man's name. Can't imagine that's too easy on Kaimi though. She I always
figured would be wed before a Master, and look at her now." She gives a
little shrug then, "Mayhap I will. -- And ask about that, the recipe." Then
she nods, "We've been spending a lot of time looking at old hides too, but
not made so many changes past plans for increases. Herd sizes and the like.
Glad your's was spared though, and that it wasn't following the worst answer."

Kassima's nod is not particularly surprised. "I don't know every detail of
his romantic life. He doesn't exactly keep me posted. Mayhaps because
m'daughter had her eye on him once, and that makes it awkward. Sometimes I
don't think it matters as much if'n the relationship's... open, that way;
depends on how you feel about the man, I guess, and what you want from him.
I've dreamed long and long of a monogamous weyrmating, but--" Her shoulder
hitches in a shrug. "If'n I'd held out until I had that, I'd never have had
aught. If'n she does give the recipe, remind me t'come down to the Hall
again t'pester the cooks about it so I can pass it on to ours. I'd love it
if'n that became a Telgar regular." Someone is clearly a burgeoning curry
addict. "That's nay the first time I've heard talk of expansion. Sounds
like a good idea t'me. Aye... the Weyrsecond thought 'twould be a good idea
for *all* the Wings t'be dissolved and remixed and start over from
scratch." She doesn't outwardly show disgust, per se, nor is it in her
voice. But her expression is so neutral, her voice likewise, that it might
be clear this wasn't her favorite idea of the year.

"Your daughter did? Aye. I would think it would make for a potentially
awkward topic under any circumstance anyway. Aye, they may well both be
happy with the situation. I confess I speak little enough on such matters
because I didn't feel the need to open the door on discussing my own."
Cailin shrugs for that as she goes on, "I'll let you know if we get it
though, for certs." Then nodding. "I think the expanding is a common thing
for most of the crafts. It's something that we can expand when dragon kind
enters it's time of decrees. That we'd all be even better able to support
at the same time." She blinks then, "And start from scratch? What ever
sense is that?"

Kassima admits, leaning back in her chair with most of her food finally
consumed, "This is a point. Nay that Kat's ever seemed shy about his
relationships, but it doesn't exactly come up *often*, though he used t'ask
advice now and then... I see much less of him since he started gaining rank
over there. T'be expected, though regrettable. Similar t'how I don't see
much of Kegan. I do imagine that might be awkward. Hard t'bring up such
topics without people wanting t'know *your* experience, assuming they're
willing to talk at all." She reaches for her wine glass. "The clutch sizes
are decreasing already. I hope they don't decrease to the point where our
descendants, at the start of the next Pass, are faced with some of the
problems the Weyrs had at the start of this one. 'Tis certes t'be hoped
that the tithe won't be such a heavy weight--as best I know the Weyrs still
plan t'provide what aid, protection, transport, etceteras that we can, but
it isn't quite the same." After a flicked look towards those around her,
she permits herself a small eye-roll that only Cailin might see. "I don't
know. T'be fair, though, the Weyrsecond in question is young and was even
newer t'her rank then. Sometimes methinks it does take experience t'give
one the instinct for what innovations are *nay* going t'work."

"Rank can change things, aye. Maybe not the relationships that were there,
but the time free to indulge in them. And distance does too. Sometimes for
the fonder, sometimes distance." Cailin muses, and then nods, "Aye. Well.
And some things are no one's business on either side I expect." She reaches
for her own drink, "There were problems at the start of the Pass? How so?"
The rest she nods too some more, "I'd image that a good thing to keep up."
And softer for the other, "Young and new does cause it's own problems, aye."

Kassima nods when Cailin mentions time. "That's what 'twas thinking. I'm
still Aunt Kassi to Kat, Faranth help me, but as Acting Weyrleader I
somehow doubt he's going t'have much time to come t'Telgar and hobnob for
quite awhile. As for the other...." For some reason, this gets a quiet
laugh. "Aye. Distance can improve things. Still be mind-bendingly
frustratingly, a'course, but at least there's potentially a positive
element. Oh, all sorts of problems." She considers for a moment, drumming
the fingers of her glassless hand on the table. "Probably in the Holds and
Crafts too, but I'm afraid I don't know much about those. Plenty of riders
died in the first Falls, a'course; there was that. But a few Turns a'fore,
several of the Weyrs had nay breeding queens left at all. Or the queens
failed t'produce a new gold a'fore passing. Benden, Igen, High Reaches...
there were so few breeders. Right now I worry that there are so many--'twas
wondering if'n the Pass was going t'be longer than we thought, y'ken, when
so many queens kept being shelled. But by the end of the Interval *that*
certes won't likely be a problem." A nod then. "Only fair. There are some
things we can do. Riders aided in the Smithcraft fire, and when renegades
infiltrated the sweep; and we dig Holders out of avalanches and blizzards
sometimes. Only right that the Holds and Crafts get something in exchange
for the tithe, even during Interval... aye," she says then, on a sigh. "I
should be cutting slack. I'm glad that course was nay followed, however."

"Nice for you both that tie is still there, never mind what comes along for
the ride, eh?" That being rank? "Distance is both at once. Gives time for
reflection and perspective. Not the easiest of things to work around
however. Such things might not bring about what people hop, or might bring
more." Cailin pauses, "I hadn't realized that there had been problems with
not enough producing queens in that many weyrs. I guess I never put it
together like that. But so many now, well. That might hold promise that
they will not have the shortages at the start of the next pass." She nods
again as she listens, "I'd certainly not say riders have no uses past
flying Falls." -- "I'd imagine."

"Certes," Kassima agrees. "'Tisn't such a big deal anyway, rank. Might be
more of one if'n I rode at Ista. Since I don't, 'tis more the busy-ness
factor--the Wing and m'children keep me busy, and his Weyr and mayhaps his
family keep him busy, and 'tis just how it is. I think you're likely
right," said of distance. "A *lack* of distance is good too. Especially
with some relationships... but probably any bond can use some distance now
and then, friendship or love or familial, so that nay anyone smothers. I
don't know whether 'tis a problem after Interval," the greenrider
confesses. "Hopefully nay. In two hundred Turns, though... who knows?
Clutches are certes less frequent already. I half wish I could be there
t'see how it all goes, y'know. But that's probably a bloody foolish wish. I
thankee for that; I feel the same--" She breaks off to laugh, and grins.
"As you'd expect. I don't think everyone in the Holds and Crafts sees it
that way. But as yet there's been nay trouble."

"I never had any particular care for rank, past making Journey. I didn't
want to live under apprentice rules my whole life, but sometimes I see it's
advantages now. Even if I still know I could live without." Cailin toys
with her glass and sets it aside, "I'm not sure there is ever any perfect
formula for relationships. Close or away." She chuckles then, "No I don't
want t'be here in two hundred turns to know. I'll just hope it's all well
but not think of it other than being sure my kids know what they need to."
Kids eh? "Not everyone does. Not everyone will. I'm not sure that they
might not say things at some point I wont agree with. But I have my own
independent view of things as well."

Kassima taps her fingers on the table again, thinking. "I'd probably have
been all right as a fighting rider," she decides, "but 'twas pleased and
proud with each promotion. I like being Wingleader. 'Enjoy' might be the
wrong word, because I hate the negative elements of it... but having some
control, being in a place t'protect m'Wingriders, I do like it. 'Twill even
confess that in a way I'd nay mind greater rank, both for the vote of
confidence and for the notoriety of it. I want t'be remembered after
m'death. Holding a high rank is one way of achieving that. But really
methinks I'm where I'm best suited as-is--and that really isn't the *right*
reason for wanting it, I suspect." She grins then, and lifts her glass in a
toast before draining the rest of its contents. "Likewise. May your
children be many, then, and all of 'em well-informed. Nay everyone will;
but hopefully everyone can continue t'work together in such a way that
Weyr, Hold, and Hall all benefit." She laughs, abrupt and amused. "And now
I'm sounding stuffy and political. Probably a cue that I should get back to
the Weyr a'fore I set the Hall t'yawning with boredom. But it's been a
lovely barbeque."

"I've only ever wanted to be remembered for breeding fine runners. Guess,
at this rate, that's not the breeding record I'll be remembered for, but
who's to say. Course, mayhap I'll be remembered instead for our fine gifts
to M'rek. Wouldn't that be something?" And that with a wink. Her own glass
lifted for the toast, and glass quickly drained. "Aye. I should find my
cousin, I expect. If she's anywhere findable. Glad you came by to enjoy it
though. Always a pleasure."

"It could be you'll be remembered for more things than one. Among the
Herders, I've a hunch 'twould always be the breeding that matters." Kassima
says this with amusement, but it's not a jest or a tease. "Hah! Oh, I'd
like that. Five hundred Turns from now, mayhaps they'll still be talking
about M'rek and his kilts and the wicked women who did bestow them. We
should commission a Harper t'do a ballad and sing it from Hold to Hall."
She laughs and rises from her seat to start for the door. "Good luck with
finding her. And good luck and clear skies in general--'twill see you again
soon enough, nay doubt, for the kilting of M'rek if'n naught else." A wink
is given back over her shoulder, and then she's exiting, hopefully not into
too bad a downpour.

You go out through the wide, arched doorway.