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A Memorable Memorial Visit


Date:  March 4, 2000
Places:  Ista Weyr's Skyspace; Red Butte
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:  This trip to Red Butte was a fairly spontaneous idea, and 
I think it turned out well, thanks to the indulgence of Leya, Is, and 
Myk and the various folk who dropped by through the evening.  Credit for 
the Wall of Names is due to Mart; it first showed up, to the best of my 
knowledge, in one of his Weyrling lessons at High Reaches.  I loved the
idea too much to resist using it myself. :)

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The Log:

You launch yourself from the ledge and into the air.

<*> Taralyth circles, once, waiting till Lysseth's taken to the air; and
then he speeds up and past, gaining velocity with each twinned wingbeat.

<*> Taralyth climbs higher toward the sky, his wings powerfully beating the
air as he gains altitude.

<*> Lysseth launches herself after the others, clearing the Hatching Cavern
in a downsweep of dusty wings and with a faint rumble of relief. No
shrieking women out *here*.

Lysseth> Taralyth and Tovith sense that Lysseth's voice is the calm eye in
a whirlpool of crystal, tranquility and chaos mixed: this is where it is,
this is where to go, this rocky upthrust in smooth Keroonian ground.

You climb with a powerful downbeat of your wings. The air is moist and
scented with the sea, and the constant treacherous updrafts and
cross-currents from the ocean blow around you as you climb higher above the
bowl.

Dragon> Lysseth senses that Taralyth sends acknowledgement: there they'll
go. Probably.

<*> Nioth thrums cheerfully to Lysseth as well, far more graceful in the
air than he can ever be on the ground. Huge wings make their own
cloud-shadows as he wings his way, hovers....waits for the others.

<*> Tovith soars upward on the changing air currents, his wings powerfully
beating the air as he gains altitude.

<*> Taralyth sweeps figure-eights, too restless for anything more
temperate: figure-eights, that always sweep off, but spiral back again.

<*> Lysseth trills greetings to Nioth as well, a flick of her wings taking
her to this height; away, away from egg shards and dust. A brief circle,
and she disappears, gone with the speed of a thought.

<*> Lysseth disappears into Between.

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

You suddenly emerge...

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

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

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

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

<*> Lysseth sends stone-dust scattering in clouds as she banks, lands; head
lowers, wings furl to allow her rider to slide to terra firma.

You slide off of Lysseth's neck to land beside her easily. She rumbles,
cocking her head down at you, and you rub her eyeridges gratefully.

Nioth lands with his usual lack-of-skill, just sorts of WHUMPS to the 
ground.

Tovith glides down after Lysseth, landing a little behind her as he
carefully lands.

Taralyth circles thrice before he lands, talons marking the stone as all
the other generations' had.

Leya slides down off of Tovith, her feet landing on the ground with a soft
*thump*.

M'kon lands heavily on the ground after dismounting from Nioth.

Kassima shields her eyes a moment from the sunset glare, peering towards...
well, it's hard to say. Whatever it is isn't something that can be seen
from here. Turning, she fiddles quietly with Lysseth's strap pouch, pulling
a succession of wineskins from it. "Sunset's appropriate timing, at least.
D'you all happen t'be having knives with you, or d'you need t'borrow?"

M'kon lands heavily, but looks like he's there mostly to be sociable.

M'kon chuckles flatly, "I've always got a knife, Kassima..."

I'sai slides down from Taralyth's neck.

Leya pats the side of her waist, "I have a smallish one on me. Never tried
carving in stone with it though."

"Knife," I'sai agrees. "And no, not the set of - in the stone? Oh. Right.
Of course."

"A good habit t'be having, Myk. I'd have brought m'stone-cutters if'n it
had occured t'me we might be doing this," Kassi admits, a touch rueful.
"--But nay matter. The sandstone's easy t'be cutting. Follow me, then?" She
doesn't wait for an answer, but instead starts towards a path over one of
the lowest points of the Butte. An easy enough path, worn smooth by many,
many passing feet.

M'kon digs in his pockets, and comes up with an old, beat up looking
blade..."Here...."

Taralyth, meanwhile, circles to crouch at the butte's very edge, and from
there peer down with great swift-whirling eyes. He toes a rock off: it
falls, and falls.

Nioth cranes his head down the side of the butte and watches it fall and
fall and fall...

M'kon follows after Kassima with shuffling feet, with one or two glances
back at I'sai as he goes.

Tovith watches the rock falling, his neck hanging over the edge as he
watches. He backs up as it disappears, then nudges at a larger one and sees
if this one will do the same. It does.

And fall. I'sai turns his back on it, says after a moment, "Yeah, that
looks more practical." And follows.

Dragon> Nioth bespoke Lysseth, Taralyth, and Tovith with << I think we can
say that all rocks fall... >>

Falling, falling, fallen; Lysseth's blue eyes follow the stone's path, her
muzzle dipping to let her keep sight of it until it goes beyond range. Tail
lashes and wings rustle, gestures of minute unease.

Nioth doesn't let his draconic observation stop him from pushing a
near-boulder off himself. Let's hope no one's camping below.

Taralyth pokes at another, this time more sharply: it rises up - fly, rock,
fly! - but then that, too, falls.

Dragon> Tovith bespoke Lysseth, Taralyth, and Nioth with << And fall and
fall. >>

Dragon> Lysseth, Taralyth, Nioth, and Tovith sense that Taralyth allows
dreamily, << ...Someday. >> Fly, rock, fly.

Leya nods to Kassima, if it's to her back and follows, digging after her
own utility knife.

Lysseth> I bespoke Taralyth, Nioth, and Tovith with << Until they hit the
ground, at least. >> Charcoal dust, silver ashes. She doesn't like this
place. << And have no farther to fall. >>

Dragon> Lysseth, Taralyth, Nioth, and Tovith sense that Nioth inquires of
the other two males, as if unheedful of Lysseth's presence << Did you
notice Rinath tonight? Was she not magnificient? >>

It isn't such a long hike, though Kassi with her wineskins is breathing a
bit more heavily by the time she reaches it. And once one tops that rounded
path, what she was peering towards is visible indeed: the wall of this side
of the sandstone valley, covered in thousands... and thousands... of names.
Generations' worth of names, some with artwork beside, some without; some
with tokens left, hair ribbons and pieces of paper fluttering in the wind.
"This would be the wall 'twas speaking of," Kassi notes, just in case it
wasn't obvious.

M'kon stops at the top of the path, and stares, accidentally blocking it
from the rest.

I'sai'd have run into him, were he not keeping some semblance of distance;
as it is, from behind him, "- What?"

Lysseth> Taralyth, Nioth, and Tovith sense that Lysseth may be unnoticed,
but that doesn't stop her from remarking in her helpful fashion, << *I*
didn't. >>

M'kon ohs, and moves...lets I'sai and the others past. "That..." he says
helpfully. That /wall/.

Dragon> Lysseth, Nioth, and Tovith sense that Taralyth mulls, << She is -
not cold. >> Let it not be said he's incapable of understatement.

I'sai stops short, himself, till he thinks to move out of the way; "That's
... does anyone come back, or are they mostly originals?"

Dragon> Lysseth, Taralyth, and Tovith sense that Nioth hrmbles softly,
thoughtfully. << Indeed, she is not... >>

Kassima smiles faintly at Myk's reaction, setting down the path herself at
a leisurely pace. "'Tis really something, isn't it? Around as long as
there've been riders. Or so some stories say. With wind and weather erasing
the names in time t'be leaving room for the new." She sets the wineskins
down, regarding the cliff in silence for several heartbeats after
straightening. "People do come back--t'be remembering, mostly--but they
only carve their name once. Or, if'n a friend or Wingmate hasn't carved
his, and nay longer has the option, they may come and do it for him."

Dragon> Tovith bespoke Lysseth, Taralyth, and Nioth with << She looks very
well, as always. >>

Leya just stops and stares as she stares at the wall. "Wow."

M'kon pauses, as if slightly stricken with the entire idea...then starts
searching the wall. For one name. Maybe more.

I'sai murmurs something under his breath, looking up - "Nay longer - oh.
Oh." He hesitates. "So if there's only one chance, then..."

M'kon shakes his head slowly...as if in awe, and steps up to feel the
sandstone with his fingertips.

Kassima brings a hand to the cliff face, tracing over letters--only
skimming, really, but skimming towards a destination. "Nay one chance. But
who thinks of it, on their own? We all know we'll probably die a'fore the
Pass is out, but knowing and believing aren't the same. Put it off, put it
off, 'til finally you've put it off too late."

Leya stands mesmerized by the scence stretched out before her, she looks
over at M'kon and follows his example. She reaches up to gingerly trace her
finger on a name. "So many..."

I'sai's nod is brief. He walks to the height, but with his hands behind his
back. "Perhaps not one chance to ... be able to write - but one chance to
actually write. One day to remember."

M'kon nods slowly, and then chuckles. "Maybe after something really 
special."

Kassima ohs quietly at that, comprehension dawning. "Aye, truth. Unless you
decide t'be coming back and leaving trinkets, letters--some do, if'n they
can find a crack or crag." Finally, her fingers come to rest on a name,
carved deeply and with more precision than you can really get from a
belt-blade. Hers. With Benden's sigil and a clumsily-drawn knife beneath.
"One day t'remember. As many days t'be remembered as there are in the
lifespans of those who'll recall you. After *that's* done... you're just a
name on a wall."

M'kon chuckles, "Or worse...a name on a hide..." A bit of a sigh, and he
offers his thick old knife out to I'sai, as if asking him if he wants to
use it...

Leya traces another names, "B'yen," she murmurs. She looks over at the
others, "Maybe just putting your name here makes it a special day." She
moves over to Kassima and smiles at the name there. "What did you use to
carve your name?"

I'sai hesitates; likely he'd have refrained from carving altogether, but
now - after a moment he lets his grasp fall, then thinks to unglove, taking
- accepting - its hilt in one bared hand.

Kassima chuckles faintly at Leya's question. "Stonecutting tools. I'm from
Greystones, y'know, where they quarry the granite--m'uncle and grandsire
have their own quarry. I went home an borrowed a set." Tracing a nail along
one of the twin slashes of the Benden sigil, she remarks, "I was wanting
t'make the mark deep, see, after they told us that about the weather wiping
the names away. Silly thought, really." Stepping back, she lets her eyes
run over the wall and the carvings there, not entirely idly--seeking. "So
many names." It's a sigh as much as speech. "And more t'be looking for with
every trip."

M'kon nods a bit, mutely...and keeps on looking after handing off the blade
to I'sai.

Leya slowly nods, then finds her own small blade and peers closely at it,
then at the names. "I'm not this would work. It's good for the little
things I need it for, like cutting hopelessly tanged straps but I'm not
sure about stone." She grins at Kassi, "I take it you don't have any stone
cutting tools with you now."

I'sai takes his own step back, borrowed knife's hilt in one hand, its dull
back balanced by the other palm: when he hunts, it's less for individuals
than for the darkness and light, where's frequented and where the winds
have rubbed and those rare regions that were never touched at all - and
can't help but see individuals all the same. And so he walks, disturbing a
pebble now and again; and stops; and resumes, somewhere near the outskirts
now.

Kassima flicks a smile, and, finding a bare spot, presses her index
fingernail--nicely lengthened since her grounding--and scratches a thin
line in the rock. "Sandstone's easy. The knife should work, but you'll have
t'be sharpening it after; truth, nay, I don't have tools. Didn't realize
'twould need them."

M'kon sighs after a bit, "I don't see Ma's here...did she ever come?"

Leya peers at the sandstone, then frowns at her own frowns at her
fingernails, well at least they're not ragged. She nods, scraping a line
between two names. "All right." She looks over at the setting sun. "I'd
better hurry while there's still light." She begins to scan the wall for a
empty place her hand lightly brushing the wall, unconsciously following 
I'sai.

Kassima looks over to M'kon. "I don't know, i'truth--didn't ever mention it
t'me if'n she did, but that likely doesn't signify. Several of us came out
here awhile back t'make sure we could find everyone we knew, but we wound
up getting a bit too tipsy with the ritual t'be certain those we couldn't
find really weren't there."

M'kon chuckles a bit, and nods, "Yeah...I suppose she probably didn't...she
wasn't sure she wanted to be remembered. Depended on how much she'd had to
drink."

I'sai misses a step at footsteps behind him, and then he turns, if slowly;
"...Leya. Plenty of room."

M'kon slowly makes his way more towards the exit than the wall...and then
finds a convenient boulder to perch on.

Kassima suggests, while leaning to scoop up one of the wineskins at the
reminder word of 'ritual,' "You could be carving her name, Myk. Nay anyone
more fitting t'be doing it than you. And it seems t'me... well. Seems t'me
she *should* be remembered. And nay just for her klah." While working at
the wineskin's seal, she watches the other two riders, curious and perhaps
a touch concerned.

M'kon shakes his head a bit, "I'll keep looking a while...before I do any
such think." He puts one big fist under his chin, and watches the others
instead.

Leya smiles at I'sai, letting her hand fall back to her side. "Thanks." She
moves over to stand next to him, "I wonder if this will be full of names by
the time we come back. Might be hard to find then." She lifts her knife and
behinds to carfully scrape at the wall, making a thin gouge that she deeps
with each stroke. "Hmm, not to bad. Kinda like carving skybroom."

I'sai says, "Could be - it is? Oh." He looks over her shoulder, after a
moment realizing and stepping to the side to not block her light. "What I
was thinking," he says, conversationally enough, "And tell me if this is
stranger than usual: I was thinking of writing really lightly. And then
when I came back, if I came back, I could deepen it some, each time. So I'd
remember - but there'd be the rest, too, because it doesn't all just end
here."

Kassima nods to Myk, nods to Leya, finally unseals that wineskin. But
before doing anything with it, she listens... and crooks a smile. "That's
making some sense. An ongoing legacy, so t'be speaking--just be sure t'mark
well the place; finding names can be a horror the first time." Lifting the
'skin, she considers it a moment, then grimaces. "Nay anyone tell J'lyn,"
she bids. "He'd flay me. But Tradition's Tradition--" So she tips the 'skin
back enough for one mouthful, no more, and recites when that's swallowed,
"To those who've been here a'fore--" Then her wrist tilts the other way.
Red wine splatters out onto the sandstone, dark as blood. As it soaks
slowly into the ground, she adds more quietly, "And for those who'll never
be again. There. That's ritual done with. Now--anyone see Mart's name
about? I know 'tis here somewhere."

Leya smiles at I'sai as he looks over her shoulder, then begins to carve
again once she can see her hand again. "That isn't strange at all. It just
shows that you'd like to prolong the experience." She finishes her L and
begins on the e, working on it until it is also about half a blade deep. "I
think I'll do most of mine now, but if I get anything like those stone
tools Kassi was talking about I might deepen it some."

M'kon watches, pale eyes deep and thoughtful.

Leya stops to adjust the grip on her knife, she watches Kassi, "That needs
to be done every time someone visits here?" She peers closely at her work,
wiping the stone dust away. She looks back at M'kon, "Are you going to
carve your name, M'kon?" she calls over to him.

I'sai eyes Leya's spot - and nods around: once, twice, ...thrice. And then
again, for the wine-stain itself. "Right," he says, and gauges accordingly,
reaching inside his jacket to pull out that familiar slate with which to
sketch with the same perhaps over-fastidious precision he might turn to
anything else. There's a particular, slantwise spot about his eye level: he
jots first that height and then its distance from Leya's - an armspan minus
a hand. Markers: darker marks above, below, to either side. What he sees
when he turns. What he sees when he steps back and looks beyond. And,
meanwhile, he hasn't yet touched knife to stone. Yet.

M'kon chuckles some and shakes his head, "Not today...maybe...when I've
done something t'be remembered by."

"Tradition," Kassi repeats, resealing the 'skin and letting it fall back to
the ground with a slosh. "I've heard the Istans pour the wine over D'vin's
Rock instead, but t'spill wine in honor of the passed in one form or
another's considered respectful. The more morbid of us spill blood
instead." She begins to walk away from the wine and her own name, eyes
fixed on that wall, in search of others. Here and there, she stops, mouths
a name silently and touches fingers to sandstone if it's low enough. "What,
you've nay already? Myk... you made Ryi dance with Mr. Flibble. That's
something t'be remembered by. Trust me."

M'kon snorts and visibly shudders, "I'm still trying to forget, thanks."

I'sai glances over his shoulder at that, gives in to a muted chuckle.
"Here's the question," he says, stepping back to the rock: "If you pick
someone's name who's still alive, is that ill-fated? And if so, could you
use that Flibble? ...Not that he's, well, alive. Exactly."

M'kon looks back to the rumble from Nioth...then looks apologetic, "I have
to go...I'm getting summoned."

M'kon rises at that, and dusts his hand off, "You can return the knife
later, I'sai...no hurry. Just leave it on the table if you need to."

I'sai hesitates on the stroke of the 'I'. "I'll do that." Something like,
in any case.

M'kon doesn't leave much time for goodbye, as he shuffles back out to meet
his waiting dragon.

M'kon mounts Nioth with relative ease.

Leya waves to M'kon.

"What, t'carve?" Kassima wants to know. "I'd assume nay, since 'tis nay
unknown for two riders t'have the same name, but I'd probably avoid it if'n
I could. Clear skies, M'kon," she hastens out before he's gone. Hopefully.

Nioth disappears into Between.

"If you meant the same one," Is says, once Nioth's vanished. "Well, ...
well." And he carves the 'T' nearby, so the 'I' shelters beneath, and
lightly enough so it's accented rather than overpowered.

Leya frowns with concentration at her y, rubbing at it, then cutting just a
little bit from the curve of the tail. "Why would you want to put Mr.
Flibble on the wall. He's scaring." She nods toward where M'kon and Nioth
left, "And like he said better forgotten."

"Doom him," I'sai says matter-of-factly. "Though logic would say
superstition might say it would create a bond. And we wouldn't want that."

I'sai says "It."

These are, of course, magic words to Kassi, and a moment later she's
kneeling at the base of the wall with a knife in much worse shape than most
of hers in her hand. Don't ask where it came from. "Carving a living name
dooming that person t'death makes sense from a superstitious view," she
admits slowly. "But if'n 'twere so, then we couldn't carve our own, could
we? Or we'd be dooming ourselves. I'm all for dooming Mr. Flibble, 
however."

I'sai points out, "That's the jinx, carving someone -else-." And he steps
back from I and T - it! - and dares to brush the dust off the blade with
his thumb.

Leya finally finishes her y, getting it just right. She peers over at
Kassima, "What name are you writing?" she asks warily, then peers at I'sai,
"IT?"

Kassima looks up from her dread--and dreadful--Flibble caracature. "But
I'sai," she protests, looking at the two letters, "I thought you told
Mirala after she sold you that you *weren't* an it."

I'sai explains, "Initials. I'll do the rest of our names - well, another
time." Meanwhile, Taralyth sends another poor, innocent rock to its doom.
And his rider just narrows his eyes at Lysseth's.

Tovith has tired of the rock game, he merely glances over at the rock that
Taralyth sends falling it's ill-fated end. He edges over toward Lysseth,
croons softly, ending with a questioning upward note. Greens are more fun,
but also more dangerous.

Kassima is innocent. Innocent is she. Innocence incarnate, thy name is
Kassima. And if you buy that one, she'll throw in a free set of knives with
that bridge she sells you. "*Are* you an it, then? I hadn't thought
so--ohhh. His name, too. That's a good idea." Head tilts back towards her
own carving. "I may have t'be coming back here with tools again."

Taralyth's replying warble, as he arches his neck, is ... protective ...
even now: paws off, Tovith.

Leya nods, "I see. You're doing Taralyth's name too?" She moves over to
look over Kassi's shoulder. "Kassi you're evil," she states, then walks
back over to finish her own name, slowly scraping out on a.

I'sai already got the knives. If from Ryialla. "What I need," he says, "is
a sheath - well, maybe just leather wrapped around, from one of those
could've-been-a-strap-patches."

Lysseth doesn't send many rocks hurtling to their rocky demises, insofar as
a rock can have a demise, but she faithfully follows the path of each.
Plink, plank, plonk. Bye-bye, rock. Her replying rumble to Tovith is almost
apologetic, but that doesn't stop her from shifting closer to Taralyth.
She's with Rocky, here.

But you can never have *too many* knives. "Thankee, Leya. I do try." So
modest, Kassi, as she crouches lower to begin scratching the name of the
Scion of Death below his figure. "That's easy enough t'be getting, Is. I've
plenty; could probably spare you one--Ro made me a plethora out of 'snake
hide, once... did Ryi give you your gift, then?"

Tovith rumbles grumpily, moving back to sulk against a bare, except for
names, part of the wall. It's just not fair.

Taralyth croons warm approval along her neckridges, eyes glinting bluely
over the top to match his wings' showy span. So there. His rider just has
to laugh, not unconscious of the irony; "...And yes. She did. So all I need
is practice."

Lysseth is a heartless wench indeed, to rumble a rumble that holds such
amusement--if friendly amusement--at Tovith's predicament. Next time,
they'll just have to invite Gaiath along. A wing extends, delicately, to
brush against Taralyth's; his may be showy, but hers aren't half bad
either, see? "Incorrigible beast," Kassi mutters, watching this spectacle
with some humor herself. "And I did agree t'be teaching, didn't I? Well
enough. And a good thing you wanted t'be learning throwing, nay fighting. I
can give the first lesson at your leisure, anywhere where there're rocks
and stone t'be marking on. Or trees. Trees would do."

Taralyth feathers wing against delightful dusty-green wing: hmm, is he
entirely clear on this? Perhaps she might show him some more - I'sai's turn
to kick a pebble with more than a little vehemence, send it skidding off
... but to crash into another, not to fall. "You did," he says. "And I
thank you. Just, now's probably not a good time."

Tovith peeks back at the other two, then snaps it back around. Yes, Gaiath
is /much/ nicer. Leya eyes her dragon and shakes her head. "Just a bad
day," she murmurs softly, then grins wryly at the riders of the cozy
dragons. "What useful about knife throwing? Isn't knowing how to use to
make things more practical?" She shrugs and continues her meticulous work
on her a.

"So I'm - I've been learning that too," Is says with a faint shrug, blade
still flat in his hands. "And there's the bargaining, and ... so on. And so
forth."

Lysseth curves her net coquettishly; what, he wants more? Well... perhaps
she could oblige. Just a bit. By spreading the other wing, you see, and
letting the dusk play over its silver-greyed surface. "Well, at your
leisure," Kassi repeats, watching the rock skid. Her expression is slightly
troubled. "Nay hurry... and you never know, Leya. Useful in hunting. Useful
if'n there're renegades about--you sound as though 'twill have a
well-rounded set of talents ere you're done, Is."

"And in betting, I hear," I'sai says without overmuch concern - or
expectation; "And I hope they'll serve me well. Eventually."

"Who's giving you lessons in that?" Kassi wants to know, brows lifting.
"Oh, wait--Ryi mentioned, didn't she, the Flibble thing being a lesson.
Knowledge is never wasted. Knowledge is power; power corrupts; study hard;
be evil." Rising to her feet, slowly, she turns to lean shoulders against
the wall. "What are you hoping t'be doing with those talents. Or d'you nay
know yet?"

"Knives for betting, Ryi for betting, you for bargaining. Yes. 'Evil?'"
I'sai shrugs; "Too much work, too much reputation. And no; I've no grand
goal to take over Pern or even 'just' the headwoman."

Rinath emerges from Between with a blast of cold air!

Taralyth lifts his head from the parenthesis he's shaped around Lysseth,
for greeting, and many-faceted eyes reflect a deep and starlit blue.

Kassima tilts her head to one side, considering I'sai for several moments.
"You," she decides, "are nay yourself. I'm guessing you're nay going t'tell
us why. And I'm *afraid* t'be asking why you'd try and take over
Rhiallya--" Pause here to wave Rinath-wards, distracted. "But will you tell
if'n there's aught we can do t'be helping?"

Rinath announces her arrival with a soft sensuous croon. She swoops near
Tovith and Taralyth then with a coquetish flick of her tail, she lands a
short distance away.

Taralyth toys with sending another rock over the edge, even as his rider
asserts, "-I- don't see how I'm not myself, and - helping with Rhiallya, do
you mean."

Saskia gives Rinath an affectionate pat, then swings out of the straps and
slides down her neck. As soon as Saskia's safely on the ground, Rinath
nuzzles her lifemate, mussing her hair.

Lysseth's rumble of greeting to the queen is cordial, but she does, yes,
tuck herself a bit closer to the bronze. Her turn to be... protective.
Right. "You said something about taking over Pern, much less the
Headwoman," Kassi clarifies, still clearly confused. "And as t'that, you're
usually nay so... dark. Shadowed, 'twould almost be saying. Weary. But I
could be wrong, I suppose."

Saskia waves a greeting, her eyes glitter brightly as she looks at Leya and
then I'sai, though to Kassima, she gives her usual grin. "haven't been here
since I was a weyrling." she says in a overly bright tone.

Rinath gives Lysseth an amused rumble. As if she'd want that bronze anyway
though as her hide seems to glow a little more brightly.

Not the only overly bright thing about, is it? Kassima's eyes narrow in
suspicion, then glance to Rinath and... ah-hah. "Kindre," she murmurs, "is
going t'be having felines. Live ones."

"No point in your being troubled," I'sai tells Kassima as he half-turns,
another's blade unsheathed in one gloved, one bared hand; and if that's
answer in and of itself - "Hello, Saskia. Did you carve your name, then?"
he asks with deliberate politeness.

I'sai adds to the wingleader, overhearing, "If she'd like a duck, I have a
source."

Saskia giggles "Felines? Oh, dear, has someone gotten in trouble again,
Kassi?" She sashays over to I'sai "Carve my name?" and gives him an intense
stare as if he were asking her if he were asking her to carve her name in 
him.

Kassima slides a puzzled glance back towards bronzerider. "You and *ducks*
again--figuratively, 'twas meaning. Don't you think Rinath's looking nice
and *bright* today?" The last said with that emphasis characteristic of an
utterly unsubtle hint. "--Anyway. Isn't there? I *had* thought 'twere
friends, of a sort, though m'apologies if'n 'twas confused on that." A
ducked head and cough at Saskia's sashaying. Oh, boy.

Saskia grins hugely showing white teeth that gleam a bit too. "Yes, she
looks beautiful, doesn't she?" she says uncharacteristically praising her
lifemate. "I just gave her a bath. It's nice to see Lysseth all nice and
healed."

I'sai widens his stance at her approach, booted feet a fingerwidth wider
upon the red stone, elbows just a little out - and the blade, such as it
is, isn't pointing in. Nor is it set to threaten. "Have you," he says. "And
- I like to think now you are, we are, Kassima; friends, that is, not
ducks. ...I take it, it was a good bath."

Saskia stands quite close to I'sai and gazes up at him with half-lidded
eyes. "Yes, it was."

"This is good. I don't think I want t'be a duck," Kassi observes, though
her wary eyes continue to keep a discreet watch on Saskia. "Well, then,
friends are supposed t'trouble themselves over one another. And warn each
other when, oh, a proddy goldrider is in the vicinity, say." A careful
smile to Saskia then. "She's always beautiful--she's a Benden-blooded
dragon." Enough said. "But aye, thank you, she's been healed for a good
time now. Wing problem cleared up just in time for us t'be grounded again."

I'sai draws in a reflexive breath; only, harper-trained, or at least
-dabbled, it increases rather than decreases nearness and so he takes a
slight, backward step that has nothing of reflex in it of all, and
everything of deliberation. "I'd - guessed - earlier, Kassima. That there
was something. Before the hatching." Another piece for her puzzle.

Saskia gives I'sai a disdainful look "I'm not proddy. So you needn't run
away." She gestures to Taralyth. "See Kassi, he's behaving as usual. Still
wrapped around Lysseth. Nioth also acted just the same when we went to the
hatching. She's just in one of her strange moods."

I'sai takes the better part of valor, lips pressed together till they've
whitened.

Kassima mutters sotto voce, "Good thing; I'm nay certain how much less
subtle about hinting I could've been." Maybe if she'd written 'Saskia Is
Proddy' on a piece of paper, wrapped it around a brick, and clubbed him in
the head with it. "Mmm. The... scene... in the Cavern. I see." Just how
many puzzle-pieces has she already managed to assemble? "And understand,
methinks... well, Saskia, 'twill forgive m'mistake I hope. Lysseth
mentioned how one of the males was mentioning how particularly... um...
radiant she was, this eve."

Saskia blinks "What scene?" For a moment she seems utterly confused.

I'sai inclines his fair and as yet undented head to the wingleader, the
moonlight making of the blondness a white akin to its own: even so.

Leya steps back to peer at her finishe names, steps back to brush away
stone dust and scrape just a bit at the e, then she steps back again.
"Good." 'Leya' is carved into the wall in Leya's neat angular print,
looking exactly like her long signatures she uses on some of her carvings.
'Tovith' is neatly carved beneath it.

Kassima shakes her head minutely to Saskia. "'Tis of nay--" Pause. Correct.
"'Tis nay of nay import, but nay something t'be worrying about, I should
think. For you. And I'm just going t'stop there a'fore I confuse m'self
even further." A wise call, perhaps. "Leya! Lovely work. Did Tovith tell
you that Saskia and Rinath are here? You should come over and say heyla."
Turns go by and things change, but some things are constant, and Kassi's
weakness when it comes to subtlety is one of them.

I'sai says, tenor's timbre rough and light at once, "Yes, Leya. Please join
us."

Saskia nods "it's been a perfectly ordinary day except for the hatching."
she says with genuine conviction then turns and gives Leya a big smile.

Leya blushes a little as she looks over to see Saskia and Rinath, "Oh. Umm,
no he didn't." She glances over at Tovith who is still against the side of
the wall, but now is surveying Rinath with undisguised interest. She walks
over to join them, "Hi Saskia," she says rather shyly, not knowing her very
well.

"Perfectly ordinary," Kassi agrees--no, repeats. That pleasant smile isn't
one of agreement, just one of trying-not-to-provoke-the-proddy-rider.
"Aside from Cymrith's flight, too, a'course. But greenflights aren't really
extraordinary, I suppose. Though the males and greens might agree. Mightn't
they?"

Rinath's hide perhaps shimmers more deeply under Tovith's perusal or
perhaps it's a trick of the moonlight. In any case her tail gently flicks
once towards Tovith in a teasing gesture.

I'sai's expression lights ever so faintly, obscurely, ..._pleased_.
'Ordinary.' If that's what she calls it: "Is that so," he says. And, "I
wouldn't say extraordinary for flights in general, no; but a particular
female's? Most certainly."

Tovith doesn't miss that tail flick, his neck raises and his chest puffs
out as he comes out from under that dark cloud. He flicks his own tail back
at her, edging over, closer.

Saskia nods "Yes, I'm sure that's true though I wouldn't know."

Taralyth comments not, aside from great sparkling eyes, and another gentle
investigation of the soft hide behind Lysseth's headknobs.

"Never been caught up in one even - remotely?" I'sai challenges, if as
lightly as before.

"That might be Taralyth talking," Kassi teases, even as Lysseth sighs with
quiet delight at this investigation. Her tail flicks, the tip gliding along
his ever so lightly in exchange. "Nay even the first greenflight 'twere at
the Weyr for, or any goldflight?" Kassi echo/amends.

Saskia eyes I'sai and frowns "No. And it's not kind to point out that
Rinath hasn't risen yet. She will when she feels like it." One giant golden
wing moves slightly upwards stirring some red dust towards Tovith.

Leya smiles back at Saskia, looking a little puzzled as she glances around,
then shrugs. "Well, ordinary days are nice. It was just busy for me."

I'sai mentions with suspicious meekness, "I'd only meant what Kassima said,
you know. Any might do. And if Rinath were to first rise five Turns from
now, or -right- now, we'd undoubtedly all respect her just as much."

Kassima grants I'sai a horrified look. Right now? Before she gets a chance
to flee? Think again, bucko.

Saskia scowls "She'd better not. As Nel kindly pointed out, there's no
herdbeasts here." Rinath rises the other wing, but it seems a teasing
gesture for her feet remain firmly planted on the ground.

Leya eyes widen, "I'd rather it wasn't today myself... One flight in a day
is enough." She eyes her dragon warily, as she sneezes at the dust. He
shakes his head, but when the dust has settled he's moving again, not about
to let a little dust stop him.

I'sai sighs so sadly, "Just us." - "Here's an idea: Lysseth could lug them
in and sort of ... drop 'em."

I'sai says "Doesn't that sound like fun?"

Leya frowns at I'sai, "Lug what in? And why would it be fun?" She's not
buying into anything until she know what it is.

"Quite agreed," Kassi murmurs to Leya. "Quite, quite agreed, nay t'mention
that I'd rather nay *be here* at the time... what, herdbeasts? Wouldn't
they kind of *splat*, Is?"

I'sai shrugs, "They'd splat anyway. Not that Tear doesn't prefer it very
much alive; what fun's the chase, otherwise? And fun... well, it's better
than the alternative. And no doubt it'd go down in some Harper song or 
other."

Saskia sighs and brushes back her hair. "Look Aurian set me straight about
the flight thing. I'm not worried about it. I don't feel the need to get
Rinath all keyed up or anything." and she gives I'sai a look. "But if you
keep teasing me about it, Rinath's just perverse enough to rise now just to
make my life difficult." Never mind that she seems to glow even more
brightly at all this talk about rising.

I'sai indulges in an open appraisal, particularly the wings' traceries that
the moonlight fades from green into dark, and the clouds that, reflecting,
it illumines brighter yet; only what he says is, "Oh. Really. What I
noticed was ... " he pauses for effect, "Those are new straps, aren't they.
Or newer. Think you can still tell in this light, Kassi?"

Leya's eyebrows raise, "Fly in herdbeasts? Wouldn't they squirm so they'd
be hard to keep hold on them?" She shrugs at I'sai, "Tovith says they're
actually not to bad flat." A smile quirks on her lips, she glances over at
Rinath. "Umm, is she always that shade of gold? Or is it just the light?"

Kassima suggests, watching the glow as it starts notching up to Defcon 4,
"Perhaps we should *stop* talking about it, then, because I really, really
can't say I'm in favor of that; I can't go home without an *escort*,
remember...." And somehow, she doubts either malerider or goldrider could
break free to offer her a ride. "Uh. Straps. They look... delightfully
strap-like, aye."

Saskia glances over at Rinath "I'm sure it's the moon." She turns back
quickly to Kassima "Why do you need an escort?"

I'sai's eyes widen, and as long as Saskia mightn't be facing his way, he
shakes his head Kassima's way; "No, you don't need to go home. Not right
now." Home, it appears, might be dangerous.

Kassima rests a hand lightly on the swell of her abdomen, and explains,
"J'lyn declared it." Disgust colors her tone. "I can't be going anywhere,
straight flight or *between*, without an escort. And when he finds out what
the Healers said, he'll probably ground me 'til the birth, Faranth in her
golden glory preserve me." A wary look is tendered I'sai. "I don't. You're
sure? She's *bright*." In case this wasn't clear.

"You don't," I'sai affirms after the briefest pause; only, what's yet more
important, "...What did the healers say?"

Leya peers more closely at Rinath, then up at the moon, "Well, I hope it's
the moon." She looks over Kassi, "You don't think it's the moon?" Why no,
there's not hope, despiration, or anything like in her tone of voice.

Saskia beams at Kassima "Another child of Is? He's certainly virile." she
laughs.

Leya blinks at Saskia, I'sai, then Kassima, "I thought J'lyn was the
father? What /did/ the healers say, Kassi?"

"'Tis nay the moon." Let's just pop that little bubble of hope right now,
shall we, Kassi? "Of Is? Nay, nay, nay--" Emphatic headshaking here.
"J'lyn's, or he'd nay be so determined t'keep me ground-bound. I *hope*.
And the Healers said twins, is what the Healers said."

"J'lyn is the father," I'sai says with rather more of a blush than the
whole thing warrants, and he doesn't look at the greenrider; Leya, Leya
might be safe. "...Twins. Ah. Aren't they fairly common?"

Saskia blinks "J'lyn? I thought he was gay!" she blurts out, prodiness
perhaps making her totally indiscreet.

I'sai deadpans, "Well, apparently Kassima..." And for the moment, he leaves
it at that.

Leya sighs and closes her eyes, "Not now. Sweet Faranth, please not now,"
she mutters. Her eyes pop open as she hears 'twins', "You're having 
twins?!"

Kassima tilts a surprised expression I'sai's way, undoubtedly for the
blush. Of course, since he's avoiding looking at her, it's questionable
whether he sees. "...Can be easily mistaken for a man?" she finishes
instead, dry as Igen in summer. "He prefers men, aye. A great deal of
alcohol was involved. Twins aren't *uncommon*, but they're more... risky.
Dangerous." Wan smile. One might guess she's less than thrilled. "Mmm-hmm.
So the Healers said, when they caught me trying t'steal more mint and had
their evil examination revenge."

Saskia folds her arms "I don't see Tovith and Taralyth behaving any
differently." Never mind that Tovith's been sidling up to Rinath. "It must
be the moon."

Saskia laughs "Poor Jaly. I'd have to like to have seen his face when you
told him you were having twins."

"I didn't say that," I'sai points out, pale eyes bright with restless
energy. "And if it were true, it'd have to be by a man who wasn't so very
perceptive. If that makes you feel any better." And he smiles. "So take
care of yourself. ...And, Saskia? Try looking with more than your eyes."

"I, uh...." Kassi coughs, rubs at the back of her head. "Haven't. Yet. I
haven't decided whether or nay 'twill, or let it be a surprise." Surprise!
"Kind of you t'say," she answers I'sai, her smile wry and eyes as dark as
ever. "I'll remember that, next time someone tells me I'm more of a man
than 'Lex. Taking care of m'self isn't m'strong point, but I suppose I can
manage." To Leya, she mouths again, 'Nay the moon.' Lest hope be built, oh,
horrors.

I'sai steps abruptly away, toward Taralyth and his straps.

Saskia laughs again "Well, one guy told me that he'd never noticed I was a
woman. So I understand what you mean, Kassi." She gives I'sai another
disdainful look and says in a challenging tone "Would you prefer I start
touching as well?"

Tovith is now fairly close to Rinath. He reaches out with a wing and
brushes her glowing side, his eyes whirling appreciatively at the view.

Leya looks at Saskia, then at Tovith. "I don't know about that..." She
frowns at the dragons, then turns to give Kassi a smile, which is quite
wain. "Well, I hope your pregnancy goes well." She winces and even that
little smile is wiped away as she realizes what Kassi just mouthed. She
glances back at Rinath, then mouths back. 'Soon?'

Rinath jerks back from Tovith's touch and bats him with one massive claw.
She didn't say he could touch...yet.

Kassima replies, still silently, 'Very.' She does excel at the art of
reassurance. "Oh... so do I, methinks you can safely say. Truly." Watching
I'sai, she asks, with less censor than sympathy, "Going t'flee while the
fleeing's good?"

I'sai climbs up Taralyth's neck, and it's not just the knife in his hand
that necessitates caution; still, he'd not been about to leave it lying.
Once aloft and sitting backwards between the young dragon's neckridges, he
rummages in one of the twin sacks, and pulls out a leather strap, with
which he begins to wrap the blade. "Be very careful, Kassima," he
reiterates meanwhile; "What? I hadn't decided, but -this- I wanted safe."
It's a longer while before he replies to Saskia, much less looked at her,
and when he does so it's less challenge than simple fact: "It rather seemed
as if you'd already begun."

I'sai says, "Though not with Taralyth."

Tovith quickly pulls his wing, bowing his head apologetically to her. He
back up a step at the claw, but not any further. He rumbles appreciatively
at he looks over her yet again.

Kassima agrees slowly, watching him, "'Twill be. Wouldn't want t'croak and
leave you still owed a favor, after all. That seems reasonable. The knife
being safe. Insofar as any knife is ever a safe thing." Folding her arms,
she purses mouth at this exchange, but offers no word; in the meanwhile,
Lysseth is similarly silent as her head turns to let her watch the
gold-and-brown saga. Curiousity, mild amusement, and those things only.
*She's* not interested in taunting the gold. She doesn't swing that way.
Sorry, Rinath.

I'sai flashes Kassima a sudden grin, a, "Well, if you put it that way."

Rinath allows him to be close, but not too close and she preens a little
for Tovith.

Kassima sweeps as low a bow to I'sai as she can manage. "M'honor would
compel me come back from the final *between* if'n necessary t'be fulfilling
a debt," she quips, facetiousness itself, but with a matching grin. "And
since that would be a terrible bother, better t'be finishing the matter
while I'm still alive."

Leya pales, her already pale skin turning almost pasty white, her freckles
standing out dark against it. She swallows hard and murmurs something that
doesn't sound very complementary under her breath. She looks up at I'sai,
"You're leaving?" the 'all alone' at the end of that question, unspoken,
even as it is technically not true.

"It may not, now, be the same thing as I'd thought," I'sai says more
mutedly. "But there's time." When he catches Leya's expression, it's to
shake his head slightly at her: not that far. Not yet.

Saskia puts her hands on her hips. "I don't know what you're talking about,
Is."

"It's not about you," I'sai says, gently enough. "Not so much."

Kassima echoes with rather more seriousness, "There's time. Just name it
when you wish t'be calling it, and your favor of choice will be granted.
Just so long as pink lace and L'cher aren't involved, remember." Losing
interest in brown and gold, Lysseth decides to investigate this human on
Taralyth's neck--namely, yes, I'sai, whuffing lightly at his hair. Hello,
there. "Lyss, leave off."

Saskia frowns at I'sai. "You were talking about me doing more than looking.
I can, but you're even more of a coward than Myk."

I'sai's hair flutters; evidently it needs a cut, and after safely stowing
the knife he reaches out to caress Lysseth's muzzle - and afterwards,
abruptly, slides down in a thump of boots to stone. "Oh. That," he says
tersely. Steps forward, one pace: one pace at a time. "And how much a
coward was he?"

Tierth emerges from Between with a blast of cold air!

Tierth wheels above the butte, finally backwinging to a landing, aimed so
the reddish dust lifted by the force of her wingstrokes wafts out across
the plains below, instead of billowing around the dragons and people
gathered. A warble from the green greets those dragons on the butte, while
her rider strips off riding helmet and eyegear, giving a wave of greeting.

Saskia smiles an almost feral smile "He didn't run away until afterwards. I
just look at you and you back away."

Lysseth rumbles pleasure at the touch, first lids half-closing. "Lysseth
reports that you're nay 'tall bad, for a malerider," Kassima reports, her
amusement at this ill-disguised. "Methinks she likes you--heyla, May-la!" A
wave upwards, cheerful enough despite the fact that her eyes soon drop back
to Saskia and I'sai. This should be interesting.

Maylia slides to the ground, giving Tierth a parting caress and a tender
smile.

I'sai's a pace from Lysseth-angled Taralyth's side. Make that, now, two
paces. And his young bronze may greet familiar Tierth with a familiar croon
of his own, but his rider's otherwise intent: "And so you're dangerous," is
what he says, so softly. "That if a man sidesteps, it must be out of fear."

Maylia drops to the ground, red dust lifting in little eddies from her
boots. "Evening, all." She greets, nodding to each, amiably. "Seems my
little getaway's crowded. What brings you folk here?" I'sai's intensity
isn't missed, and an eyebrow lifts.

Saskia stares at I'sai and laughs "Me? Dangerous? Yeah, right. You have so
much more experience that it's not even funny. We already had this
conversation, remember?"

"The Wall of Names," Kassi answers May, dropping one hand to smack lightly
at the sandstone cliff-wall--with its thousands of rider names carved
in--that she leans against. "A visit t'be carving, and reading." Not that
this explains Saskia and Is's face-off.

Rinath greets Tierth with a pleasant croon, but Saskia appears not to have
noticed that her former WLM has arrived. She's standing quite close to
I'sai and her eyes and Rinath's hide glow brightly in the moonlight.

Leya waves to Maylia. "I carved mine and Tovith's names over there," she
says pointing to the spot. She looks over at Saskia and I'sai, then at
Tovith who is actively admiring Rinath. He lifts his own wings slightly off
his back and puffs out his barrel-chest for full effect. See? He's not bad
either.

I'sai then says, not quite a question, and as gently as before, "Then what
is it, Saskia. As long as you're making your own experience, and making it
on - " He stops. "Why would a man... fear you? You don't think, do you,
that it'd be because he simply didn't -want- you."

Rinath looks Tovith over with an amused toss of her head even as Saskia
freezes and for a moment, then suddenly she laughs again, a harsh brittle
sound "You're telling me *you* don't want *me*?" She takes a step closer to
I'sai.

Maylia heads towards the wall indicated, running her fingers gently over
the surface. Leya's given a grin, and she points off a ways. "There's mine
and Tierth's. Nikh's isn't far away from there, and A'lex's too." Saskia
and I'sai are frowned at, slightly.

Now all of Leya's attention is I'sai and Saskia, she herself backs up a
step, his dangerously soft tone making her wary. "Woah, not good," she
mutters. Tovith rumbles deep in his throat, he's da man.

"Careful, Is," Kassi cautions as quietly as she can without being too quiet
to be heard. "Proddiness isn't known for allowing much reason." And she
should know, shouldn't she. "Find yourself a place t'be watching,
May--don't suppose you brought any munchies?"

Kvasith emerges from Between with a blast of cold air!

Kvasith bugles as he arrives. HIs wings spread as he spirals downwards.

That's too close. Far too close, by the flare in I'sai's eyes; but he
daren't take a step back. Not now. And so he maintains his ground; leans
in, even - a bluff? - and his smile is but a ghost within the echo of
bugle, of rumble, of frown. "Are you saying that I do?" he returns. "That
you'll prove it upon my body? Within your own? Saskia, would you be so
cold?" For all that she's anything but.

Maylia directs a sharp look towards Kassi, then an even sharper one,
evaluating to Rinath and Saskia. "Brought some brandy with me, but nothing
to munch on but fishrolls." Clearly, not an appetizing snack for her.
Tierth lifts her head to warble a greeting to Kvasith, flaring her wings
slightly.

Kvasith warbles to Tierth. His rider narrows her gaze on Maylia,
"May......" The brownrider shakes her head, "Faranth girl.." She pushes her
hair out of her eyes and dismounts.

Aurian slides off Kvasith after unfastening her riding straps. She lands
neatly on her feet this time.

Kassima votes, helpfully, "She would. But hopefully nay *here*--" Without
looking away from the spectacle, she tilts her head in the direction of the
long-abandoned wineskins. "Benden Red over there, too, May, Auri. For the
ritual toast, y'know."

Aurian murmurs, "I have M'kla's brandy with me.." She wanders towards the
greenrider that is her oldest friend, "Want to talk about it hon?"

Saskia leans very close to I'sai and lifts up her face "You think I'm cold?
That I'm unfeeling? No, it's you to deny that you want me."

Rinath croons happily in response to Kvasith's bugle.

Maylia reaches high on Tierth's riding gear, the green leaning down a bit
to assist her, and loosens the flap on the small stachell fixed there. A
flask of brandy is produced, and May frowns at Aurian. "Just a bad day,
hon. I'm fine." She assures, her tones a bit too even. Her gaze finds the
bickering gold and bronzerider again, and her frown deepens. And the day's
not getting any better, apparently.

Aurian reaches over and squeezes the weyrlingmaster's shoulder, "Just
huh..." Her eyes flick towards Rinath and then back to Saskia with a
squint. She shakes her head a touch and glances back to Maylia.

Kvasith warbles delicately towards Rinath before senting a rumble towards
Tierth. He is careful not to settle himself not too close to either of his
favorite dragons.

Leya glances over Maylia from her safe distance away from Saskia and I'sai,
"I guess I'm not the only one." Tovith rumbles brusquely to Kvasith from
his spot near Rinath. I got here first, mine.

Kvasith meerly snorts at Tovith. The young dragon certainly no threat to
him. He shifts and rests his head upon his forepaws.

Kassima decides to be further unhelpful, and offer, "Mayhaps he's only
telling it true rather than denying aught?" She never *was* very good at
watching quietly. Lysseth buries her head beneath a wing for a moment.

Tovith lifts his head into the air and decides to ignore Kvasith, just as
long as he stays put. Leya, meanwhile, just blinks at Kassima and moves
back enough more until her back is against the thousands of names on the
wall. As that as far back as she can go, she stays there, watching.

I'sai leans in, lips to lips - only without touching. Not touching at all.
Only whispering, not a little wryly, "I'd bet you it's nothing _between_
wouldn't cure. Saskia." And then he shrugs, and does step aside, but it's
only to offer her his hand, polite as any move in the dance.

Rinath yawns hugely then rests her head on her forelegs. One set of eyelids
gently closes. Her glow does not diminish, but the effect lessens as she
stops preening and stretches out on the red stone.

Saskia furrows her brow and seems to lose some of her tension as Rinath
relaxes. "I suppose." she says trying for indifference. "it's not as if we
even get along that well, but you shouldn't go around telling women you
don't want them. It's not polite."

Aurian reaches into her pocket suddenly and pulls out a thin flask. She
pops the seal and takes a long pull of it. Her eyes are back on Rinath,
"Nooooooooooot the light... oh faranth.." She glances away and glares at
her dragon.

Tovith moves his head back at Rinath's yawn. Is he that boring? Slightly
deflated, he settles on his haunches and rests his wings completely on his
back. He tilts his wedge shaped head to the side to peer at her, then lets
out a rush of air and settles down fully on the stone ground.

Kassima sings almost too quietly to be heard, but with a droll smile to
Auri and May, "Hey there, hi there, ho there; who has that glowing sheen?
Big P-R O-D-D Y-G-O-L-D."

Aurian says in a vaguely clipped voice, "Saskia.. as much as you want to be
out, I would have to recommend you return your dragon to the weyr."

Kvasith shifts and raises his head to watch the gold. Then tilts his head
towards his rider. She's no fun.

Rinath flicks a few red stones at Tovith and croons in time to Kassima's
song. Perhaps Tovith is not so much boring, but that for the moment her
lifemate has managed to prevent her from rising over Red Butte.

I'sai chuckles, and there's nothing of distance in it, nor of antipathy,
but perhaps - just perhaps - compassion. "It's already happening," he says
as quietly, as if it were their secret. And the other wingleader speaks;
and he pauses for it, politely as before, but the same soft tone returns as
he continues. "I imagine we'd get along better, Saskia, if ... well.
Perhaps another time. Just: some things aren't polite, and they're better
for it; and some things aren't polite, and they're not." And he lifts his
hand, but to run it through his hair, as if he could flatten the lifted
hairs at the back of his neck, and tenders her a truer smile.

Saskia eyes Aurian and says dryly, "You're not going to tell me you don't
want me either, are you? That would be rather crushing to my ego."

Tovith perks back up at Rinath's croon, though he doesn't get back up. Too
much effort. He scoots the red stones into a pile in front of him, then
carefully separates each stone setting each of them the exact same distance
from each other. He peers closely at the arrangement, then nudges one just
a tiny bit over. Ahh, perfect!

Leya continues to lean back against the wall, her gaze alternating between
I'sai and Saskia and her brown and the glowing gold.

Aurian smirks, "Saskia dearheart, of course I want you. And Kvasith would
rather ensure how badly I'll want you.." She folds her arms across her
chest. The brown already affecting her sanity and usually reserved
behavior, "Now please, back to the weyr.."

Saskia frowns deeply at I'sai "What's happening? You're agreeing with
Kassi?" Her 0gaze flickers to Aurian. "You too?" A panicked look crosses
her face. "Now? But we're on Red Butte for Faranth's sake!"

Kassima continues to watch this spectacle, but now with some dread. Please,
oh Faranth, don't let Saskia decide to ask everyone whether they want her
She would have to say no, and that might get messy. "Stranger things have
happened than someone agreeing with me," she quips--with a moment spent to
glance in horror at Auri. "Nay *here*!"

Aurian shakes her head, "Saskia, Take Rinath back to Telgar, before she
decides that three maledragons aren't enough for her and decides to harass
a great many weyrs." She laughs, "Faranth, I won't take the girl on the
rock.. she does need to get her dragon back to Telgar though."

"Everyone's going to want her, Aurian, who rides brown or bronze. How's
that real?" I'sai asks this without looking at the other woman. "Stranger
indeed... but I do believe she's right. About Rinath." Said gently, gently
into periwinkle eyes whose color the moons obscure. "Not that that makes
everything all better; but it might help."

Leya is doing her best to hide in the shadows, she's not here. Don't ask me
either. If you could see her though, you'd see the panic, pale look of
before returning and if you have really good ears. "Shells, not here."

Maylia come around Tierth, having discreetly disappeared for a moment or
two. Whether for the Call of Nature, or simply to spend a few quiet moments
alone isn't certain, but she's back.

Aurian grins harshly, "Some people manage to know mentally that they don't
want them.. others let themselves slip even more." She reaches up to pinch
the bridge of her nose, "We need to get her back to Telgar.."

"Thank you for being green, Lyss," Kassi mutters at this news from I'sai.
Lysseth rumbles nonchalantly in response. Don't mention it. Glad to be of
service.

"You'd know, wouldn't you," I'sai says with a quick flare of, yes,
protectiveness. Not to mention defensiveness. "And Saskia can hear you; can
choose. What are you proposing, Aurian, a more novel use of straps?" Well,
novel to those other than himself, no doubt.

Saskia nods to Aurian "Okay." she says quite meekly, then leans closer to
I'sai in much same the way she did moments ago. Poor boy, is she about to
face off with him again? But no she brushes her lips gently against his
cheek, then quickly steps away and looks around at all the riders. "Sorry.
I'd better go going now." as though she were leaving a large gather and
saying goodbye.

Saskia grabs Rinath's straps. The mischievous gold first extends then
withdraws her foreleg. Saskia gives her lifemate a wry smile, perhaps
accustomed to her antics. Rinath nudges her rider gently towards her now
proffered foreleg and Saskia steps up on it and climbs onto her neck.
Saskia straps herself a bit unsteadily.

I'sai's hand lifts, but only to his opposite, knotted shoulder, not his
cheek. "Good flying," he wishes her.

"You're certain," Maylia drawls, "That you're alright going on your own?"
Apparently, Tierth caught her up on details.

Kassima's hand lifts, into the air. It's a gesture known as a wave. "Clear
skies, Saskia, Rinath," she bids in turn.

Aurian scowls at I'sai, "I'm glad you're not in my wing. I've never dealt
with a singular lack of respect in my life, even T'vor has better manners.
What in Faranth's name I've ever done to you I'll never know...." Some of
her own sense is returning apparently, "Consider yourself on report."

Leya finally decides it's safe to step out again and she steps out of the
shadows to wave to Saskia, "Clear skies," she says echoing Kassi. Tovith
reluctantly moves back to give Rinath room, he softly warbles his own
farewell. Good night, fair maiden. Until we meet again.

Taralyth's dark head lifts, no movement away from Lysseth, but only deeper
shelter. And watch. And witness.

Seated on her lifemate, Saskia nods "We'll be fine." She smiles faintly
"She's not going to rise over Red Butte." Never mind they came fairly
close. She waves "Clear skies and thank you."

Rinath gives Tovith, Taralyth and Kvasith a regretful croon as she launches
herself into the air.

Rinath disappears into Between.

It's two pairs of bright blue eyes that watch from that direction, then,
for Lysseth watches also, albeit more out of idle curiousity than anything
else. And perhaps just a hint of relief: the proddy rider is leaving, and
her own rider didn't get herself killed before this happy thing could
occur. "Well," Kassima comments. "That was... interesting."

Maylia snorts, and takes a long pull on her flask, as Rinath disappears.
"What a day." The weyrlingmaster can be heard to mutter.

I'sai, once the pair disappears, turns; his salute to Aurian is
scrupulously polite. "Consider it done, wingleader. I trust you won't again
be ... disappointed." And he rounds Taralyth: and only there, vanished from
all but dragonsight, does he stagger back against his own lifemate's warm
and reassuring hide.

Leya arches an eyebrow, "That's an understatement." She looks over Maylia,
"What's it been with you?"

"A flight, a Hatching, fourteen marks, a trip to the Butte, a proddy
goldrider, and a mention of novel uses of straps, all in one day," Kassi
muses. "Things don't get much more eventful than that, do they now?"

Maylia rolls her eyes at Aurian and I'sai, commenting /very/ quietly about
maleriders reacting just as much as their dragons to a glowing gold. More
audibly, she offers Leya a wan smile, and extends her flask in offering.
"Where to start? A grumpy weyrmate, pesky weyrlings, missed the hatching
entirely..."

Aurian walks to the edge of the butte. She glares out over the vista, her
dragon slips his tail about her ankles. He hates her behavior here. She
simply sips her brandy.

Kassima offers, with a crinkled nose, "Didn't miss too much. The gold's
name was *Omfaleth*." This evidently doesn't agree with her. "But what's
with T'saren, then?" Meanwhile, back at the ranch--err, back on the butte,
or wherever the dragons are, Lysseth rumbles a comforting note to the nice
muzzle-caressing bronzerider-type. No worries. It'll all be over soon 
enough.

Leya didn't react, unless you count hiding as a reaction, but then she
didn't hear Maylia either, so she doesn't say anything. She returns her
smile in kind, taking the offered flask, drinking a polite sip then hands
it back. "Sounds wore than mine. Dawnsweeps, watchriding, flight, sleeping,
and missing most of the hatching because of that, then now."

I'sai's pale still - drained - in Taralyth's shadow, and while he still
can't quite smile, the moment that he's opened his eyes might relay
something of that to the dusty green. And then he shuts them again.

Lysseth offers another hair mussing whuff, breath mercifully devoid of
firestone or even herdbeast; it's probably been a bit since she ate last.
Kassi, however, grins wryly at Leya. "I don't believe 'twould trade you
your day--or May's day--for mine, at that. There's a reason 'May your life
be interesting' is a curse."

Maylia grimaces, and reclaims the flask. "Still, doesn't sound like fun.
Nothing like missing something like a hatching to ruin what's left of an
already bad day. *Omfaleth* did you say?" Apparently, this was the crowning
moment for her. "Shells, Omfaleth? What kind of name is... well, yes, it's
her name, Tierth, and she'd know her own name, but come -on-..."

I'sai confides in Lysseth, since Taralyth already knows, "I'm going to have
-such- a headache tomorrow."

I'sai adds, in the same whisper, "And I didn't even wind up drinking any
-wine-." How fair is that?

"A gold," Kassima muses, tipping her head back to rest against the
sandstone, "named Omfaleth. It sounds like a peculiar Harper ballad.
Dragons are dragons, sane names or bizarre--but is it too terrible of me
t'be grateful for nice, solid 'Lysseth'?"

Aurian finishes off another pull of her brandy and sticks it into her
pocket after capping it again, "Most golds have silly names.. Ramoth...
that's a silly one..Orith.. nother one..." She wanders towards her brown,
"Yes love, Rinath is a perfectly lovely name.. but you say that about
Herath and Leilanth.. and that gold at Ista.. yeah Neith..." She shakes her
head, "Faranth... I hope a green goes up soon.."

Lysseth's quiet rumble is tinged with draconic laughter, as she lowers her
head to be able to better give the semblance of listening, albeit without
drawing away from Taralyth at all. It sounds terribly unfair to her. Muzzle
tilts, then jerks in the direction of those wineskins Kassi left; the last
could be rectified, at least.

Leya smiles wryly, "I personally like 'Tovith' the best. A very nice name.
Very glad it's not something 'Omfaleth'." She peers closely at Aurian,
looking at her as if she'd just turned purple or something. "You /want/ a
green to go up?"

I'sai translates, maybe through Taralyth, and maybe even he - once he opens
his eyes - can interpret on his own: "I'd make it worse," he sighs. "Or I'd
-do- something worse." A lower mutter after Aurian's comment admits that
-he'd- be happier if neither a green nor anyone else went up for a couple
of Turns, though at that, it's Taralyth's turn to snort.

Kassima blinks, twice--then lets her shoulders shake in a silent laugh.
"Ramoth *is* a silly name, but I'd never thought of it that way. For some
odd reason. And don't look at *me*--or Lyss, more accurately. We're done
with that for the better part of a Turn. Try hoping for Yasinth or someone
instead."

Aurian nods towards Leya, "Oh yeah.. the level of Misery for Kvasith after
a gold... flight.. Faranth. The stupid things I've done after a gold
flight.. " She reaches up to pinch the bridge of her nose. She doesn't want
to remember after that last time Talibenth caught Herath. "Kvasith once
threw stuff out of a weyr.... cleared the whole sharding thing out.." She
shakes her head, "Oh Faranth not Yasinth.. I'll get in a brawl.. maybe
Azeth.. or Tierth.." She glances towards that green, "Nooo she's not going
to do that..."

Maylia eyes Aurian, dryly. "I'd say you're up for more of a flight than a
greenflight, love." A toss of her head skywards, to where Rinath so recenly
disappeared, and she makes a face. NOpe, her brandy's not getting tucked
away,not for a while.

Well, perhaps so; Lysseth has no memories of her own of wine, but she has
her *rider's*, and those would suggests that silly actions tend to follow a
great deal of drinking. The *look* she twists Kassi's way may hint at that
train of thought. A snort from her, too, and she aims a light nudge at his
shoulder. Easy for him to say. He's not thinking of what life would be like
in a Weyr full of sexually frustrated dragons.

"Like go off with Tas and May?" Kassi is happy to supply. "Oh, shells, that
reminds me, though--goldflight, and I can't even get bloody drunk. Shardit!
'Twill just have t'be hoping Lyss can help me keep m'head straight enough
t'be working the bets."

I'sai, for his part, aims a matching caress towards that muzzle once that
nudge hits home: she's quite right. He's just not. What he does eventually
afterward do, though, is scrub his remaining hand through his hair and
straighten up, even walk around Taralyth and show his face again.

Aurian snorts, "Ahhh Maylia dear..." She wrinkles her nose playfully, "And
you simply know how much I love being in bed with someone I barely know or
drinking myself into oblivion or soaking in the ice lake." The redhead
glares at Kassima, "I've not done that in turns and it was once?" She
stalks off towards Kvasith a hand already reaching into the brown's straps.

Aurian pulls herself up onto Kvasith, carefully. Her fingers grip at the
straps as she eases herself onto his back.

I'sai mouths a single word after Aurian, and that's, 'Shipfish.'

Kvasith wings up with sudden and heavy wingbeats.

Kvasith disappears into Between.

Leya blinks at Aurian, her mouth making a silent 'oh' as her eyebrows
raise. She lifts her hand in a wave to Aurian as she leaves. She turns to
look at the remains greenriders, "Do all maleriders act strangely after a
gold flight?"

I'sai contributes, "More strangely than usual?"

Kassima holds up her hands in a gesture of innocence. "Who said aught about
it being a bad thing, Auri? Goldflights, y'know; special situations... ach,
shardit. Missed. Thank Faranth she can't put *me* on report." To the
maleriders, succinctly, "*Everyone* acts strangely after--and during--a
goldflight."

I'sai checks, just to be sure, "More strangely than usual."

Leya closes her eyes and sighs, "So much to look foward to..." Tovith has
moves over his pile of rocks and rearranging them again into some pattern
only he knows and which must be gotten absolutely perfect.

"Trying to bonk aught that moves," Kassi agrees. "Or randomly accuse
innocent greenriders of having things for various people. Then getting
drunk and passing out. I suppose that's usual for *some*... but me, I
always drink, because it all seems so much more amusing then."

"Oh, well." I'sai kicks at a pebble. "Maybe I should - what am I saying?
_No_, I'm not going off to Nerat. Or Nabol. Or anywhere else that begins
with 'N.'"

Kassima suggests, "Someplace that starts with B? Go t'Benden. Or Boll.
Pleasant places, Benden and Boll. Would go m'self if'n there weren't marks
t'be made--but I suppose Taralyth would never be forgiving you."

Leya lifts a hand and rubs at her face and her forehead. "I think I'm going
to go back to my weyr. Do me a favor? Let me sleep through all tomorrow.
Maybe it'll be over when I wake up?" She moves to her obessive, complusive
dragon, then looks over at I'sai, "What's with N?"

I'sai says thinly, "I just want to ...see what happens. Like it or not...
what? Oh, I was fostered in Nabol, say, and ... and never mind Nerat. Sleep
it is."

Kassima considers a moment, then bobs her head to Leya. "You've the day off
on the morrow. But," she warns, "if'n I catch word that you're nay using it
t'rest, double-chores for the next sevenday. Fair deal?" She turns back to
I'sai then and informs him, "This curious nature is going t'be the death of
you, y'know."

"Probably," I'sai says, with as much black humor as he can muster. "Don't
suppose you can do the same for me, day-off-wise? Or maybe not; this was
supposed to be one for me, and look. So get some sleep for me, Leya."

Leya shrugs, "Oh." She smiles gratefully at Kassi, "Very fair, since I
can't imagine doing anything /but/ rest." She nods to I'sai, "I'll try."
She waits, hands on hips, until Tovith reluctantly leaves his rocks alone
and lets her climb up.

Leya uses Tovith's leg to climb up, then sits between his neckridges.

"I somehow doubt Mart would be willing t'do that on m'request," Kassi
agrees wryly. "Go figure where I'd get that one--g'night, then, Leya, and
sleep well? Be sure t'be rested up for drills the day after, or Kena will
have your hide."

I'sai waves her on, with even a moment's show of enthusiasm. "Yeah. Well."

From atop Tovith, Leya waves, "G'night all."

Tovith disappears into Between.

I'sai says finally, "Another one down."

Kassima gives a silent laugh at the observation. "Aye. I feel almost as
if'n I'm in that rhyme about the Holderbrats who kept disappearing 'til
'then there were none.'"

I'sai runs his hands through his hair, till it stands completely on end;
still no brush to his cheek, and certainly not after he lets them drop.
"Yeah. I suppose I'd better get back." And before he thinks, "Just don't
know where."

"If'n you'd best, then I'd best, in case May's wanting t'stay on awhile."
Straightening from her wall slouch with a pop or two of vertebrae, Kassi
grimaces, and stoops to collect the abandoned wineskins. She sends a shrewd
look over as she does. "T'which weyr, y'mean?"

I'sai covers, however transparently, with a, "Well, you do keep
recommending a visit to Benden."

Kassima is by no means fooled, and dark eyes show it--too knowing. She's
put together at least enough of the puzzle for that. However, "Every rider
should be seeing Benden. Especially riders of Benden-blooded dragons.
There's nay place on Pern finer." Not that she's biased or anything. And,
"Nay that 'tis what I meant. But."

"I know." His slight bow of the head's more than half a salute. "So, come
to think of it, Southern might be good. Being spring there. And, you know,
it's not like going back to Telgar and ... yeah." It's an idea; I'sai
shrugs. "Either way, though, we'll fly you back now. All right?"

Kassima gives half a wince to match that half-salute, and only shakes her
head, dropping it to agree, "Southern has its points, I've heard, though
I've actually never been there. Say heyla to E'vrin for me if'n you see him
there? But if'n you don't go back t'Telgar, then you don't get t'be
experimenting with the experience of proddy goldriders, and that'd be a
royal shame." Getting a good grip on those wineskins, she nods. "Sounds
like a plan t'me."

The moonlight shows perplexity on I'sai's features for a moment, and then
he says as he swings up, "Oh. Oh, him, yeah. And as if we didn't all have a
good taste of them today." What's this 'we' business? Well, perhaps no one
else here - or, at least, while speaking literally.

I'sai swings up to Taralyth's neck.

"What's this 'we' business?" Kassi echoes the thought, with a snort as she
stows the wine away in Lysseth's strap-pouch. "Seems like you got the brunt
t'me. Unless you could be counting Tovith, I suppose."

You place one hand on Lysseth's neck and she warbles down at you fondly.
You grin and scratch her eyeridges once before climbing up onto her lower
neckridges, using the riding straps and Lysseth's thoughtfully offered
foreleg.

<*> Taralyth reluctantly unloops himself from Lysseth, although of course
it's in a good cause: they're going flying, after all. Right? Right. Even
it's probably rain - "Something like that," I'sai says, and effectively
cuts off the conversation by urging Taralyth into flight.

<*> Lysseth untangles similarly, sighing a trace--still, flight, and that's
something to look forward to. She can deal with rain, for flying.
"Something like," she agrees, signalling Lyss aloft a heartbeat after.

<*> Heartbeat, wingbeat, wingbeat more: Taralyth vanishes.

<*> Taralyth disappears into Between.

<*> Lysseth disappears into Between.

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

You suddenly emerge...

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

<*> From the South, From the Telgar Star Stones, L'klal's burnished bronze
Pteynth rears on hind legs and bugles a greeting to green Lysseth and her
rider, Kassima, welcoming them home.

<*> Taralyth circles once, twice: there's Lysseth, they're safely back, and
so it's his turn to vanish yet again.

<*> Taralyth disappears into Between.

<*> Lysseth trumpets a brassy note back to Pteynth, stay-at-home Pteynth,
breath fogging in the cool--but clear, blessedly clear--night air. A
warble, too, in parting to Taralyth before she drops of the sanctity of her
ledge not so very far below.

You fly downwards towards the southern end of the bowl.