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Igen Weyr Weyrling Training Field
The long shadows cast by the tall spires above are matched in this area of the Bowl by a few long scars in the floor of the Bowl - a silent testimony to a few miscalculated landings. Overhead, the dragons seem to fly with increased awareness, as dragons and riders alike keep in mind that a weyrlings practice here. There is enough groundspace for two full wings of dragons, which makes this a perfect area for practice or drills.
To the north, the walls of the Bowl part to make way for the Igen Weyr Pass, whereas to the west a glint of water betrays the lake's position. An opening into the bowl walls on the northeast fairly hums with the murmurs of young riders in training. Straight east is the large opening to the Weyr's Hatching Grounds. A flurry of activity to the south points one to the main entrance into the inner Weyr. The center of the Bowl lies to the southwest.

Perseith backwings to land neatly.

Jazeth rumbles sleepily at Perseith, eyes only partially opened.

Perseith warbles cheerfully as he lands at the edge of the training field. On his shoulders, T'jas takes a moment to scan the Weyrlings outside in the open before unbuckling his straps.

Kismith rumbles agreeably at the arriving dragon. His rider is just dismounting, and turning to inspect the straps.

Cyameth is resting toward the main entrance, in the sun. He lifts his head and warbles amiably.

<mysterious disconnect fun, some poses missed>

Cyameth croons warmly at Tenkanoth, shifting a little.

Perseith warbles especially cheerfully to the greens present as T'jas dismounts and strolls over to stand next to his blue's head. Absently scritching Perseith's dusky eyeridge, the bluerider watches the Weyrlings, his eyes skipping over the bronze and gold weyrlings to watch those more likely to become simple wingriders like himself.

U'yn looks up from his strap inspection to salute the incoming rider, whether he's been skipped or not. "Hello, sir," says the young bronzeling.

Sir. The word penetrates even Chayil's formidable level of conversational chatter, causing the weyrling's head to turn. Soon after, she's to her feet, saluting properly and echoing "Sir!"

T'jas returns the salutes he receives automatically, blushing faintly. "Afternoon, Weyrlings," he says quietly. Perseith rumbles as his rider's hand leaves his eyeridge, even for the moment necessary for the salute.

U'yn ducks under the bronze neck, inspecting not only the straps for wear, but the hide beneath the straps, checking for chafing and other problems. Coming up on the other side of Kismith, he inquires, politely, "D'you need anything, sir?"

Chayil relaxes her posture somewhat once she's done her respectful duty. "Afternoon, sir. Did you come to find someone in particular? Can we get anything for you?" Behind her, Keturath's head raises from the ground and snakes forward, rising to hover just over Chayil's head, so that if she wanted, if she was so inclined, she could reach up to rub on that oiled, glistening chin. She does so.

T'jas shakes his head, curls bouncing, at U'yn's question, and Chayil's. "No, thank you both. I just wanted to watch, for a little while."

U'yn responds with a customary, "Yes, sir." He props himself up on Kismith's forelimb to streeetch over and check the upper part of the strap area, and then returns downwards to the buckle, releasing the straps, which hiss as they fall to the ground, and the bronzerider continues to check the hide, now without the straps interfering.

Chayil's blue eyes flick towards the smaller of the dragons, Keturath's green and blue siblings as well as the smaller brown ones. She sighs wistfully. "They're so pretty. All those colors remind me of water, and of soil. /Rich/ soil, moist soil, not this dry stuff. Which is still pretty," she hastens to add, "but not as much fun to dig in, and you hardly ever find surprise-flowers around here."

T'jas smiles tentatively, his hand slowing over Perseith's eyeridge as the blue begins to drowse. "Wait till spring, Chayil," he says quietly. "You an' Keturath'll be flying more, and you'll see plenty 'f flowers."

Chayil stands on tiptoe to better reach that crook of jaw that Keturath loves to have rubbed. "Yessir, I s'pose so. Anyhow, though, they sure are beautiful, aren't they?" Again, her eyes sweep over the stunning array of colors, of shades and tints, of gleaming backs and shadowed bellies. "Keturath thinks so too. She loves the way they all look when we're assembled for morning exercises, and the way they look when it's naptime later on."

Kismith unfurls a wing, and U'yn ducks under the wing for inspection. His head pops out from under the wing, though, and he looks at the bluerider. "Truly?" he asks. "There's flowers about here? In spring?" Somehow, the tone of his voice and the look in his eyes, conveys the message that this is an important question to him.

T'jas blinks at U'yn, distracted from Chayil's flowery commentary. "Um, yes, of course, I mean, not th' fields an' fields 'f 'em like Keroon gets, but..."

U'yn inspects the edge of wingsails so he doesn't have to disappear under the wings again. "In Telgar," says the young man, "We have flowers bursting out everywhere in the bowl, in spring. In Southern, they're just everywhere. Everywhere. Always. Here, I've only seen flowers in vases in the caverns."

Cyameth turns his head toward U'yn and Kismith, eyes whirling blue.

T'jas grins tentatively. "That's 'cause the bowl gets weeded often, an' the beasts eat th' ones in the Feeding Grounds. Wait 'til you fly outside th' Bowl."

Dragon> Kismith senses that Cyameth's tone is soft, thoughtful. << There are flowers at Benden in spring. Terri likes them. >>

Kismith> Cyameth senses that Kismith responds with interest. << He thinks of flowers, and says we will see them some day. Though he says I cannot eat them. >>

U'yn smiles slightly. "I can hardly wait, for many reasons, sir. Flowers will be added to my list."

Dragon> Kismith senses that Cyameth is amused, his tone warm. << They are not good to eat. They are good to smell. Jakenath likes how they smell, very much. Terri likes how they look. V'lien gave her a thing to wear that has flowers on it. A ring. >>

T'jas blushes faintly, glancing at Perseith. "I see," he says hesitantly. "If... if any 'f th' reasons are Teria, you might want t' find her soon. Perseith says Jazeth said Teria's turnin' red, an' I thought I saw your mother's dragon over there..." He nods towards the main entrance.

U'yn begins, "Oh, the flowers are completely..." that's when it all sinks in. "I thought they were going to come later!" he protests. "I told Kismith to tell Spineth /later/! She's..." he gulps, "Turning red?"

T'jas shrugs faintly, turning rather red himself. "That's what Perseith said..."

Kismith> Cyameth senses that Kismith responds with a curious image of something that must be a big bronze flower. << He has a flower, from Decarath's rider, but he says it's not "real." It seems real. It, too, can't be eaten. >>

Kismith> Jazeth senses that Kismith  's mindvoice reaches out, a vibrant, amused, tone. << He seems concerned. He's heard that she's red. And Spineth is here, and that concerns him, too. >>

Dragon> Kismith senses that Jazeth sounds very drowsy. << She is not too red. But Spineth's rider is there."

Dragon> Kismith senses that Cyameth turns the image over curiously. << I have never seen a flower that color. >>

U'yn's inspection of Kismith's wing is no longer leisurely, though he's not going to neglect his duties. "Oh, shards, you'd think she'd wait... No, she wouldn't, would she?"

T'jas shrugs vaguely. "I wouldn't know," he says quietly. "My parents are Holders."

U'yn ducks around to the back of the wing. "So they don't drop in on you at unexpected moments and start turning your friends red while you're off drilling or practicing?"

T'jas turns a bright shade of scarlet and looks at Perseith's closed eye. "So they've never visitted the Weyr, and don't care to know my friends, U'yn."

U'yn seems oblivious to the discomfort he's caused the bluerider. "Faranth smiles on you," drawls the bronzerider as he ducks around to inspect the next wing.

T'jas's face pales, and he looks up at U'yn. "You have no idea what you're talking about, Weyrling," he says tightly. Giving Perseith's eyeridge a final scritch, he turns on his heel and heads towards the living cavern.

U'yn accepts the rebuke with the standard weyrling answer. "Yes, sir," and ducks under the wing to finish his inspection where he can't cause any more damage.

T'jas heads south to the main entrance.

Kismith> Cyameth senses that Kismith now returns the image of the aforementioned bronze flower resting atop a press, presumably U'yn's press, in the barracks. << It rests near where we sleep >> the young bronze explains, as if this should explain a bronze flower.

Kismith> Jazeth senses that Kismith mindvoice reflects some of the irritation of his rider. << He thinks he should join her, but he worries. Wonders if he shouldn't. He seems unable to reach a decision. >> This last is partially what puzzles the bronze.

Dragon> Kismith senses that Cyameth considers, but sounds a bit puzzled. << I have never seen the like. I do not think it is natural. >>

Dragon> Kismith senses that Jazeth rouses somewhat to ask, << Is he not talking to her again? She will not like that. >>

Kismith> I bespoke Jazeth with << I don't see how he could not talk to her. He thinks of her often. >>

Kismith> Cyameth senses that Kismith repeats << He says it is not real. >> The young bronze, having never seen real flowers, cannot contribute more than that.

U'yn sighs, heavily, and finishes the wing inspection. After looking around, he stalks towards the living caverns himself.

You head south to the main entrance.
Igen Weyr Main Entrance Field
Activity surrounds the Igen Weyr Bowl, especially so close to the Living Caverns. A road runs beneath the huge cliffs which form the southeastern section of the Igen Weyr Bowl. The wall opens here in three places, the middle one leading to the Living Cavern, and through it, the Inner Caverns. The northernmost one is the largest, being the Infirmary for both dragons and humans. The ground is solid and rocky and, in the brightest sun, glares uncomfortably.
To the north the path continues, winding its way past the hatching grounds (off the Weyrling Training Fields) to eventually leave the bowl. Cutting across the bowl to the northwest brings you to the center of the bowl. To the west lies a green field full of beasts- the Weyr's feeding grounds. The infirmary weyr opens to the northeast, and the living caverns to the east.

Spineth is resting on the bowl floor, not sleeping, and regarding a youngling, with mild, interested eyes. There's even some soft rumbling, perhaps in answer to her, or perhaps not.

U'yn stalks impatiently towards the living caverns. He pauses when he sees his mother's dragon looking at a youngster he recognizes as local. "I see you've met Spineth," says the bronzerider. He's eyeing the living caverns as if he thinks a nest of live Thread harbours there.

Terrilia walks out from the Weyr's Living Cavern.

Yvera turns from the dragon, her expression still a bit apologetic to the dragon about something. "Who?" she asks, then glances back to the dragon in question. "Oh. Spineth? That's your name? It's very nice." She turns back to U'yn and asks, "How come you knows his name?" She also notices the look at the caverns and says in a matter-of-fact way, "T'jas went there and he's not happy and didn't even yell at me much as he usually does so he must be /real/ mad but I don't even know what I did wrong this time."

Terrilia walks out briskly, saluting automatically as she passes by.

U'yn salutes right back. He's standing there, near Yvera and Spineth. "Spineth and I go way back," he answers, first, grinning at the brown. Then explains, "My mother's Spineth's lifemate." He nods towards the living caverns. "I think she's in there, making Teria turn red, and I think I upset T'jas, and now he's in there, too."

"Oh." Yvera knew this. Well, no she didn't, but she won't admit to this. She's 9-turns-old and that means she's just never ever wrong. Nope. "He's real nice," she says to U'yn. "I bet your mommy is, too. Like mine! Maybe they's friends!" She thinks for a second and asks, "How come she's gonna be red? She making her hold her breath really long?"

U'yn just shakes his head. "I don't know why she's red. My mom's a brownrider," he says, which he seems to think will answer the mommy-nice comment.

Chayil ambles in from the northern part of the bowl.

Yvera beams, dimpled in expression, up at the brown dragon as she listens to U'yn. "I like brown. Daddy has a brown. Mommy's Nemmy is blue." She looks over at U'yn and asks excitedly. "Can I meet your mommy? I can see if she wants to be friends with mine and then they can be friends!"

U'yn is eying Yvera, Spineth, and the living cavern, all with cautiousness. "I suppose so," he tells the girl. "Why don't you tell me your name and who your parents are, first?"

Chayil slides into view, doing an odd little shuffling dance, fingers snapping, toes shuffling softly and then tapping at the ground. She passes on through with no more than a general wave on her way to the living caverns to wet her whistle, which is quite dry and thin at the moment.

Chayil heads through the main entrance, into the Weyr's Living Cavern.

Yvera says proudly, "Yv. And my mommy is Nemanth's Cathedra and daddy is Y'kon and he has a brown named Evereth. And they're riders here like you, only not weyrlings because they're older and daddy's so old that Sarai told him to retire and he yelled at her and then said no, but I wish he would so he can play games with us when Thread falls and then I don't have to worry about mommy all alone."

U'yn lets the introduction/explanation assault flow over him, and he finally takes a breath. "Well, then. Well, met, Yv. I'm U'yn. You can help me feel strong when we go in there, okay?" and he gestures towards the living caverns.

Yvera looks wary, probably because, "You look strong enough because you got big arms. But okay."

U'yn smiles wanly, and turns to stride to the cavern.

You head into the Igen Weyr Living Cavern.
Igen Weyr Living Cavern(#600RJMQ$)
Igen's living cavern is an immense hollow in the volcanic caldera, stretching up two stories, the light of the glows and the hearth reflected in the quartz which peppers the swirled sandstone unique to the region. One hundred feet wide and one hundred fifty feet long, the room can seat the entire weyr. Tapestries adorn the walls, depicting scenes from Pern's past. The head table sits upon a raised platform at the far eastern side of the room, in front of a huge fireplace which is continually burning.
A wide balcony overlooks the cavern, and large tunnels lead west out to the bowl, and south to the kitchens. A smaller tunnel leads off to the east, beyond which lay the inner caverns of the Weyr. A small doorway in the northern wall opens to the infirmary, and a quiet door to the northeast opens into the Records Room. In the corner one may +view a plaque.

Teria glances over, giving Chayil an odd look. "Ah, hello, Chay. What on Pern are you doing?"

Ursa hasn't been a weyrlingmaster, wingleader, and weyrsecond for turns without it having an effect on her, and she comments, "I'd dream of visualizations, if you'd rather not dream of being lost forever, /between/." She answers the other dancy weyrling with an automatic, "Telgar's duties."

Yvera skips in after U'yn, trailing just behind him.

U'yn arrives in time to hear his mother lecturing a weyrling, no, not any weyrling, Teria. Worse than he even thought. He strides right on over to Ursa and Teria to say, "Shards, Ursa, you've just met her, and you're lecturing her already?"

"Dancing," Chayil tells Teria, as if this were news. "I'm happy, and I'm dancin'. Ma'am," she addresses Ursa now, "are you lookin' for U'yn? He's outside with...well, he must be your dragon, seeing as how he's one I don't know, and I don't know you, so you must be his mother. Oh, and here he is."

Teria turns a eviiiil grin on U'yn. "Oh, here you are. What stories /have/ you been telling about me, bronzerider?"

Yvera looks at U'yn, then Teria, then Ursa, then at the plate of cookies that she's separated from. She looks back at Ursa with a shamelessly beaming smile. "You got a nice dragon," she calls out to her. Interrupting? She doesn't know what the word means.

Ursa is suddenly being spoken at from many directions. There's the scolding without greeting from her son, the bubbly commentary from the small weyrling, and the child. She could handle Thread from the same directions with much more aplomb. "Well, hello to you, too, U'yn," drawls the brownrider. "Good to see you, too. Teria, here, and I were discussing weyrling training." To the others, she asserts, "Yes, that's my dragon, and he's very nice, indeed."

Chayil, having done her duty, moves on to her real errand, the meal table, plucking up a trio of nectarines, holding up one and wiggling it in offer to each person there with a questioningly arched eyebrow.

U'yn slips into a chair with a sigh. "Welcome to Igen, Ursa," says he. "I thought you'd be coming a little later. I assure you, Teria, I haven't been telling stories. Truly."

Teria raises her mug of juice, still with the same grin, then takes a swallow from it. "Well, somebody has - I can only imagine what they think of me at Telgar."

"I bets they like you," Yvera says in one of those stage-whispers that carries across the room. She is still beaming from Ursa's words. She agrees. The brown dragon is nice. Of course, Ursa's probably biased, but Yvera doesn't care. She hardly ever gets people to agree with her on things. "My daddy has a brown dragon."

Ursa sighs back at her son, a similar gesture. Both at the table, the family resemblence is strong. "The stories I hear," explains the brownrider, "Come from Telgari. Kichevio, Yashira, mostly," she says. "Though I did hear a bit from Natasya." She tells the little girl, because she's hard to ignore, "I'm sure your daddy has a very nice brown dragon."

Chayil waggles the first nectarine again at each person in turn, and if she receives no answer, juggles the three for a moment (not all that well, mind) before putting two back into the basket and chomping down onto the remaining one, her very own nectarine. At least, it is now that she's put her toothmarks into it.

U'yn is just looking from Teria to his mother, and back. Oh, this is way, way worse than he'd imagined. Different, at least. "Do you /have/ to be collecting U'yn-stories?" the young bronzerider asks, at length.

Ursa would laugh, but she's really not here to upset her son. "They come to me, the stories do, like vtols to a flame," she comments.

Yvera just listens, still beaming brightly because not only did a brown dragon play nice with her, but his rider is nice, too! Or at least she thinks so. Then again, she isn't being embarrased like U'yn might be. She looks at U'yn and moves to tug at his clothes to get his attention. "You feeling strong yet? Because I don't know if I can stay with you lots because I gotta pee." She does a little dance from foot to foot.

Teria drawls. "Indeed... I'd be interested in heariong some stories about U'yn in exchange? Sometime?" She glances down at Yvera, assuming a 'nanny-voice'. "Well, go and do it, then come back, then."

U'yn had, somehow, forgotten Yvera was there, until she said that. His eyes pop open wider. "You go take care of that, Yv," he urges her. Wider eyes at Teria's suggestion to his mother. "No!" is all he manages.

Ursa seems to be holding something back--is that laughter? "I'd enjoy that," she tells Teria. She pulls herself to her feet. "I think I'd better catch you at a better time, U'yn," she says. "Telgar's duties to Igen," is her final word. With a maternal smile for her bronzerider son, she scoops up her gloves and walks out, rider's boots clicking on the stone floor.

Ursa walks out to the Bowl.

Teria chuckles very quietly. "So that was your mother. I rather liked her."

Yvera looks a bit relieved - well not /that/ relieved, she still has to pee it seems. But at least now she doesn't feel so bad about leaving U'yn alone. She's his protector, after all. Or at least now in her mind she is. "kaaaaaaay" she shouts as she runs out, leaving him in Teria's capable hands.

U'yn drops his head to the table and bangs it against the table repeatedly. Not hard enough to really hurt, but for a gesture. Then he looks up. "You /liked/ her?" he echoes.

Teria says "She was not exactly what I expected. But why are you banging your head?"

Chayil at last finishes the last beautiful, sweet bite of nectarine and mops the juices from her fingers with a napkin as she seconds Teria's opinion. "I did, too. She seems like a sweet person. She was nice to Yvera, which you can't say for everybody. Besides all that, she's your mother, and you're a good person, so of /course/ you got it from her."

U'yn sits up. "Oh, no reason," he answers casually. "Thanks, Chayil," he sighs. "What /did/ you expect, Teria?"

Teria sets her glass down, to turn up her hands. "I didn't. Or I tried not to. Some mothers get overprotective."

U'yn rolls his eyes. "That's not overprotective? Oh, I don't know what that is. She spends more time snooping around the caverns getting info on me than she actually does spend talking to me. Did you see that? As soon as I arrived, she was making her excuses and out of here."

"You're welcome," Chayil answers, "and by the way, all mothers do that. They have to watch out for you and make sure you're not in any trouble or running with a bad crowd, shirking your chores, and that. And look, she's your /mother/. She's still looking out for her baby boy. You /know/ she came to meet Teria, right? And you know that her dragon was prob'ly asking every other dragon about your dragon, and about you. She wants to know about your life, and not have to press you for the details."

Teria shakes her head. "She came to talk to you - and rather annoyed at first that you were too busy will drills. She did not come to meet me, Chayil, I don't think."

Chayil tilts her head. "Well, maybe not. That's really more what my parents would do than what anybody else's would, I guess."

U'yn sighs. Again. At both weyrling friends. "I guess if it wasn't such a struggle to have a real conversation with her I might not be so annoyed that she's always snooping around. I wish she /would/ just ask me." He looks at Teria. "I haven't been telling her stories, you know. If she asks, I answer her questions, though."

Teria smiles. "Oh, don't worry about ot. I was just teasing you. But I do wonder just what reputation I have up at Telgar.

U'yn shrugs. "Someday I'll get to Telgar and I'll find out," he says.

N'ren comes in from the Bowl.

Teria says "If I don't first."

U'yn considers. "We'll go together," he suggests.

Chayil readies a comment, though it isn't strictly necessary, but when she sees N'ren, a standing salute takes the place of her 'wisdom'. "Sir, good afternoon, sir."

N'ren makes his way into the Living Cavern, his stomach growling audibly from emptiness. It's hard to keep that stomach full, considering how much of it there is (height-wise). "Good afternoon, weyrlings." He returns the salute automatically. "Ah, U'yn. Did your mother catch up with you finally?"

U'yn hits his forehead automatically in a salute when he hears sir, before he even looks around and sees the tall redheaded brownrider. "Good day, sir," he echoes. "Yes, she did, sir, but I scared her off."

Teria rolls her eyes even as she salutes. "You're not that scary, you know."

"That seems odd," N'ren says. "She's been here several times in the last few sevendays looking for you and, now that she finds you, she's scared off? That seems unlikely."

U'yn shrugs. "I walked in, she said about three things to me, and then left." He offers that explanation simply, and then inquires, "So she's been here several times to see you, and just barely made time to see me?"

Teria looks blank. "I've never seen her before today - honestly, U'yn! What's gotten into you?"

N'ren chuckles, "Other way around, kiddo." He says, "She's been here several times to see you, but you've been too busy to see. She's got no rancor about that - after all, you're in training - but she's been disappointed. That's when she comes to see me. I like to think I cheer her up a bit."

N'ren pauses a moment, "Though, there was once when she brought her brush. She may have been coming to see me specifically then too." He shrugs, and goes back to perusing the meal table.

U'yn sighs. "Not you, Teria. Him." He looks up at the brownrider. Repeats, for Teria, "Hairbrush. Tall, redheaded brownriders. That's her thing."

Teria looks rather sheepish. "Oh."

U'yn tugs at his short hair. "I think I'd better go," he concludes. "I'll catch up with you later, Teria. Clear skies, sir. Happy dancing, Chayil."

U'yn practically flees.

N'ren finishes filling up his plate, and says, "You know, U'yn, there is another possibility. She might well be scared to deal with you."

U'yn pauses, looking at the brownrider. "Her? Scared of me?" he repeats from his spot by the entrance.

Chayil's toe taps rapid-fire against the leg of the meal table, almost as if she had a pair of drumsticks down there to beat out a joyful little cadence.

Teria mutters something, then heads out of the caverns, shaking her head.

Teria walks out to the Bowl.

N'ren nods, setting his plate down, "Or scared of influencing you. U'yn, let me put it this way: when your mother *does* come to see me, pretty much the only thing we talk about is you."

U'yn stands there, still at the entrance, taking in the brownrider's words uneasily. "I'm sorry to hear that, sir. Can't be all that interesting a visit for you, then," he comments.

N'ren chuckles, "Maybe. Maybe not. But I don't mind, at all."

U'yn has a lot to think about. "Well, maybe I should tell /you/ things to tell her," he concludes, somewhat bitterly. "If you'll excuse me, I need to get back to the barracks." He salutes and then really does flee.

You walk out into the Bowl.