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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.

Tisel comes into the Bowl through the Pass.

Tirien comes along from the field outside the main entrance to the south.

Terrilia comes along from the field outside the main entrance to the south.

Tisel smiles warmly

Tisel #9022 Pce [0:39]
A semi-tall teenager, with glowing purple eyes and a mischeivous smile. Being

Terrilia walks slowly over from the main entrance, preceded by Tirien, who's toddling as fast as he can and giggling. Terrilia is smiling fondly down at her son, though she glances up and nods to everyone on the training field as she gets closer.

U'yn is in shade on the perimeter of the bowl. He's all sweaty, like he's been exercising, and even panting a little, but right now he's oiling a growing bronze dragon with some urgency. As if this is an oiling that couldn't wait. He straightens, saluting, getting oil on his forehead. "Weyrsecond, ma'am,' he says. He gives a wave to the teenager he doesn't know.

Tisel nods in acknowledgment

Tirien pauses and oooos. He points at Kismith and looks up at his mother. "Pwetty."

Tirien
At 1 Turns, 9 months, and 28 days, Tirien is of average size and solid build. His complexion is fair, more like his father's than his mother's, and his hair is only slightly wavy and very fine, a light brown with darker red highlights. His eyes, blue-gray like the sea on a cloudy day, regard the world curiously. He's an enthusiastic and even-tempered child, loud enough when he chooses. He has no lack of energy, but he does lack coordination, often resulting in spills and messes--not that they bother him any. His features are still soft and rounded, hinting at both V'lien's and Terrilia's. A quirk of his mouth may make him suddenly look like his father; a thoughtful cast to his eyes, his mother.

Terrilia returns the salute and smiles bemusedly. "Afternoon! Igen's Duties," she adds, to the unfamiliar person. "How're you both today?" She grins and nods to Tirien. "That's Kismith--he's little, but he's growing fast. Like you!"

Tisel says "hm...."

Tisel heads south to the main entrance.

Tirien giggles and changes direction to toddle toward the young dragon. "Hi!"

Kismith may be little, but he looms over the weyrling who is propping himself on a forelimb and stretching with the paddle to get that one spot by the neck ridges near where the neck meets the back. The bronze dragon watches the tiny person with an open curiosity, his muzzle resting on the ground, and U'yn calls, "Hey, kiddo."

Terrilia follows Tirien closely, one hand at the ready to pull him back if necessary. She smiles at weyrling rider and dragon. "How're you both doing today? Tirien, be careful, sweetie..."

Tirien toddles right up to the young bronze, completely unafraid and giggling. He waves at U'yn and sways a bit on his feet as he looks up, up, up at the bulk of the dragon. "Hi hi. Baby?" He sounds a bit uncertain and looks back toward his mother again.

Kismith's alarm has eased, since U'yn is working hard on that itch, and the whirling in his eyes is slowing, so he regards the boy with a pale blue curiosity, then lets out a whuffle of greeting. His whuffles are sounding more draconic, now that he's got some lung power and some practice behind them. U'yn continues the oiling, since he doesn't fancy another interruption, working down the dragon's side. "Oh, doing well," he calls, good-naturedly. "It's his second oiling today," he adds. "Growth spurt of something. Watch out, buddy," he says, still good-naturedly, to the young guy swaying on his feet.

Kismith is 0 Turns, 5 months, and 0 days old, with a length of 24.29 metres, and a wingspan of 40.48 metres.

Terrilia smiles warmly and nods. She tilts her head and lets her eyes range from Kismith's head to tail, slowly. "He's looking good--well-cared for, certainly. Keeping you busy. And growing! Faranth, I think he's nearly as big as Cyameth now." She grins down at Tirien and crouches down next to him. "Well, maybe not quite a baby, but he's young anyway. He's not as big as Jake, is he? Be careful and move slowly..." She turns to smile at Kismith. "This is my son Tirien."

Tirien nods thoughtfully and grins up at the young dragon. "Big," he pronounces. "Big baby." He stretches a hand out and wiggles his fingers in a hopeful scritching motion.

U'yn fairly beams at the favourable words about his lifemate and his care. "He certainly does keep me busy," he agrees, ducking down, now, to work on the hide of the forelimb. The wiggling fingers does not go unseen, "Does he know how to rub nicely?" he asks towards the weyrsecond. "Kismith is willing." Indeed, those eyes of the young bronze are trained on the small boy, even if he's a bit too close to be seen with clarity.

Terrilia smiles and stands, then reaches down to lift Tirien to her hip, so he can reach something other than the bronze's muzzle. "Well, mostly. He hasn't got it down quite as well as his brother and sister, but he means well. Cyameth and Jakenath put up with it pretty well, but then, he's 'their' hatchling." She shrugs and smiles apologetically. "Anyway, there's not much he could do to actually hurt one of them." She tousles the little boy's hair affectionately.

Tirien ignores the tousling and tries to stretch toward Kismith, still wiggling his fingers and grinning. His mother keeps him just out of reach, though. "Scwitch!"

U'yn hauls the vat of oil, half-empty, over to the other side to work on the other forelimb, grinning at the kid as he passes. "Kismith's not going anywhere," he says, "So he doesn't mind. He hasn't encountered many kids. I need Ursa to bring Storm to meet him sometime."

Terrilia grins and steps a little closer to let Tirien reach. "Thanks, U'yn, Kismith," she says. "Mostly they haven't, I'd imagine. I always tell my children to be careful, though--Lacroith was actually frightened of Liel and Jehril. Who's Storm?...Be gentle now, sweetie," she cautions Tirien softly.

Tirien beams and reaches out toward the bronze's eyeridge, wiggling his fingers happily. He nods to his mother's admonition.

U'yn works his way up up up the forelimb and then onto bronze side. Kismith wuffles again, a huff of breath. "Storm's my little brother. He's... oh, I don't know. Gonna be a turn old in a few months, I think."

Terrilia blinks and peers up toward U'yn. "You've got...how many Turns?" Her attention quickly returns to Tirien, monitoring his scritching. Truth be told, the boy doesn't look particularly coordinated, though he's laughing delightedly.

Kismith shuts one lid, perhaps for protection from young fingers, perhaps because he can't see that close up anyhow. U'yn peeks around the draconic neck to answer, "17 turns, ma'am. Yes, there's quite a gap between us."

Terrilia nods and smiles. "Seventeen Turns. Sixteen between you, I guess. Faranth, that's a lot. Hopefully you'll get to know him a little, anyway."

Tirien scritches away, enthusiastically but rather clumsily. He moves both arms to scritch, up and down and back and forth, giggling. "Pwetty," he says again. "Scwitch, scwitch..."

U'yn returns to his oiling. He works quickly, efficiently, and good-naturedly. "I expected to, when I was still at Telgar. I don't know how much I'll see him, growing up. He's a cutie," he adds.

Sarai comes along from the field outside the main entrance to the south.

Terrilia nods and smiles, keeping her eyes on Tirien, who's perched on her hip, happily scritching Kismith's eyeridge. "It won't be all that long before you can go visit."

Sarai walks over with a weyrling in his early twenties and the boy's blue dragon. "The bread won't harm him, Dr'eas, but if he starts feeling blocked up, have him bespeak Cyrath and I'll help you purge him." Dr'eas winces and nods, putting an arm around his blue's neck and walking into the barracks. "Afternoon, all," Sarai says to the others.

Terrilia looks over to smile and nod a greeting to Sarai. "Afternoon! Bread? What was that about?" She leans closer to Kismith again as Tirien fusses, unable to reach.

U'yn is oiling Kismith. His clothes are still looking sweaty, like he was exercising not too long ago, but he's thrown himself into the current oiling with enthusiasm. He overhears the talk of purging and winces, sympathetically. He salutes smartly, "Good day, Weyrwoman," he says respectfully. Kismith is doing his part in all this by lying, sedentary, one lid closed, allowing the youngling to practice his scritching on him and U'yn to oil him thoroughly.

Sarai chuckles, "Oh, Dr'eas' Garmanth ate some of Dr'eas' toast, and he was worried it'd hurt Garmanth." Sarai shrugs, "It never hurt Cyrath, but she thinks bread is rather bland and that I should eat raw meat."

Tirien beams and giggles again as his fingers regain contact with the bronze's eyeridge. Scritching seems to be a whole-arm exercise for him, with less coordination than enthusiasm.

Sarai smiles at Kismith, "He's a headonist I take it, U'yn?"

Terrilia ahs and shrugs, smiling. "Cyameth's eaten meatrolls before. Didn't seem to bother him much. Careful, Tirien..."

U'yn has stopped oiling to listen to this conversation of dragons eating human food with wide-eyed interest. "He certainly is, ma'am. And this is his second oiling, already. I was doing laps when he needed oil NOW. It's his first kid-encounter, too," he adds.

Sarai chuckles and nods, "When he stops growing so fast, he won't need to bre oiled every other second." Sarai pauses, "Laps? Running about the bowl?"

U'yn gets back to work, agreeing, "Yes, ma'am. Was a shock, stopping so suddenly."

Sarai takes a look down Kismith's length, "He'll be a pretty good sized bronze at this rate. Almost 25 meters already and only five months ..." Sarai shakes her head. "You'll be flying soon."

Tirien's arms finally seem to tire, and he gives Kismith a last pat and squirms around to peer at Sarai, still grinning. Squirm, squirm, squirm. "Down."

Terrilia nods in agreement. "He's nearly as big as Cyameth already." She steps back and lowers Tirien to the ground again. "All right, down. Stay right here, though."

Sarai wriggles her fingers at Tirien, "I made the mistake, when Cyrath hit 25 meters, of saying she was a dragonlength..."

Tirien grins happily and waves to Sarai. "Hi-eee!"

Terrilia smiles at her son and looks up curiously. "Why was that a mistake?"

U'yn's attention is fully caught, and even Kismith's lids open. "We will, ma'am?" And the dragon echoes that with an interested rumble. "You really think so?"

Sarai drops down to a squat, so she's more on the young'un's vertical level. "Hi, Tirien. Oh, her silly goldness replied 'Of course /I/ am a dragon length, /I/ am a dragon.' And now she still thinks /she/ is a dragonlength, and every time I tell her where to go and how far it is by dragonlength, she says I'm wrong. To Cyrath, a dragonlength is /her/ length. All 41-plus meters of it." Sarai chuckles and looks at U'yn, "Seven months, when they're a turn old, you should be ready for flying."

Terrilia snorts and grins. "Ah, I see. I suppose she's right, sort of." She shrugs and gives Kismith another thoughtful glance before turning to keep an eye on Tirien again.

Sarai rolls her eyes at Terri, "I beg of you, do not tell Cyrath she's right. I'm hoping one day she'll forget."

Tirien beams and toddles over--Sarai's much more approachable when he doesn't have to crane his neck. "Dwagon," he pronounces, pointing at Kismith.

Sarai nods at Tirien, "His name is Kismith."

Terrilia smirks and chuckles. "It's funny what they remember. I won't, though. She's not exactly /right/, she's just...not entirely wrong?" She grins.

Tirien tilts his head slightly as he peers at Kismith again. "Kis...Kismif?" He gives it a try.

U'yn accepts this with a nod. "So not /that/ soon," he says, more to himself than anything. He resumes his oiling, working across the back flank, really concentrating on the creases there. "I can't believe he's nearly as large as Cyameth," he says. "Kismith still refers to him as The Big Blue."

Terrilia blinks and laughs. "He does? Shells, don't you tell Cyameth that. He'll puff up so he can't get in the weyr." She flashes a grin at Kismith and nods to Tirien. "That's good, sweetie!"

Sarai grins at Tirien, "Kismith, that's good." Sarai shifts and sits, cross legged in the dirt. "Soon enough, U'yn. Time seems to go faster for weyrlings."

U'yn ducks around a hind foot to work on the tail. He covers a lot of ground quickly, not only working from five month's experience oiling Kismith, but a lifetime's experience assisting with scrubbing and caring for dragons as a weyrbrat. "I can't believe he's this large already, ma'am. It does go fast, but still, it seems like forever until we can fly."

Sarai hmms, "Well, don't be to eager. Flying on Kismith will be different, but going too fast can hurt him."

Tirien beams and says it again, since it was so well received. "Kismif, Kismif, Kismif..." He grins at Sarai, who's more or less on his level.

Sarai nods at Tirien, looking quite comfortable on the bowl, "Next thing we know, you'll be standing."

"I certainly don't want to hurt him, ma'am," says U'yn sincerely.

Terrilia nods in agreement and shifts so that most of her weight is on one foot, her arms crossed loosely. "It always seems like a long time. Can't go anywhere..." She breaks off to blink and grin at Sarai. "I'm not ready for that!"

Tirien giggles merrily at Sarai and nods. Of course! He's already standing! "Big," he says. "Big boy." And he stands on his tiptoes, teetering.

Sarai grins, "A candidate, Tirien. With your heritage, I'd not be shocked if you impressed."

Tirien teeters, loses his balance, and falls forward on his hands and knees in the dust, plunk! He grins, though, and nods again agreeably.

Terrilia sighs, but can't help a proud smile. She moves a few steps closer, just in case. "Let's not put them on the Sands before they're ready...or I am. He's not even two Turns yet."

Sarai grins, "Well, you can rest assured, he'll probably never fight thread."

U'yn is leaning over to watch the toddler while he works down Kismith's tail, nimble fingers seeking out the spots that need attention. "I watch him and think: Wow. My little brother will be doing that, soon. They say he's crawling all over, now, and pulling up on things."

Sarai blinks, "You have a brother that young?"

Terrilia nods quickly. "Thank Faranth--I'm glad of that, anyway. For all three of them. Hard to believe Jehril's seven already, and Talie's five...how's Shimshon doing, anyway?" She looks over and grins at U'yn. "They get into everything at that age."

Tirien sits in the dirt and pokes at something he finds there curiously. Who knows what.

Sarai says "Still short, but he thinks he'll be a herder already. Definitly my son."

U'yn nods. "Yes, ma'am. I don't think Ursa planned to have any more, and I don't know quite what changed her mind. She was grounded when she got pregnant." The lad doesn't seem to think he's giving out too personal information, by the free way he chats about his mother's pregnancy.

Terrilia chuckles and grimaces. "Ugh, herding. Glad he's happy, anyway. Hope he's doing well over there..." She frowns and peers at Tirien, keeping an eye on him and listening to U'yn.

Sarai ahs, "Well, I can rather agree with her there. Having more children's not on my to-do list either. But ... well, I can't say I'd give up either of mine." Sarai smiles and shrugs. "It's that Telgar water, you know," she teases.

U'yn rolls his eyes good-naturedly at the water comment. "So I hear," he says, "Though she seemed to avoid the water problem for sixteen turns, between the two of us."

Sarai nods, "And you? Any little U'yn's running about we should know of?"

Terrilia smirks and chuckles. "Just you two? No others?" She grins at Sarai. "I wouldn't mind another one, myself."

Tirien pokes at his whatever-it-is in the dirt and frowns intently, leaning down for a closer look.

Sarai makes a face at Terri, "Have my share and more, woman. I'd rather stick with two kids, a dragon and my firelizard. Anymore and I won't have time for the weyr!"

U'yn blinks at the weyrwoman. "Little U'yn's?" he echoes. "No, ma'am, none of those, nowhere, no, ma'am. And I don't have to worry about Telgar water, or women who've been drinking the water, round here."

Terrilia snorts and grins. "You just need more help with them. Get Cyrath to watch 'em?" She frowns at Tirien again. "I'd hope they wait till he's out of diapers, though..." U'yn gets a sympathetic smile.

Sarai takes that in stride, "Well, not now, certainly, U'yn." And she leaves that there. "Cyrath threatened to bite Shimmy, and Raviv thinks Cyrath's a big toy."

U'yn echoes, "Certainly," and then starts to rub his hands off on a rag.

"Did Shimshon bite her?" Terrilia asks, grinning. "A really big toy. How is Raviv doing?" She glances toward U'yn again, more thoughtfully this time.

Sarai waggles a hand, "Raviv's fine. getting around a lot." She does not answer to the biting question...

Tirien has his nose nearly in the dirt by now, mumbling to himself and poking at the dust.

Sarai eyes Tirien, "I think this one's a farmer."

U'yn strolls to Kismith's head, and starts to scratch the bronze dragon's eyerides. The bronze's second lids close, now, soaking up the attention.

"She's sweet. I bet she is..." Terrilia sighs and crouches down next to Tirien, too. "Tiri, sweetie, what're you doing? What've you got there?"

Tirien looks up and grins at his mother. "Bug," he says, and points. Sure enough, there's a poor harassed little trundle bug trying to get away from this big monster it's encountered.

Sarai hehs at Tirien and leans back, seroptisiously checking for a bug below her hands before placing them down.

Terrilia sighs and smiles a little. "Yes, it's a bug. Dirt," she says, pointing at Tirien's shirt. "You're getting messy." She makes a face, which the boy imitates.

U'yn is just grinning, watching the kid. "Good boy," he says, impishly. "Get real messy."

Sarai says "Dirt won't hurt him, much, Terri. Honestly. What's fun in being clean all the time?" Someone's tomboy roots are showing. "Besides, bathes are fun."

Terrilia snorts at both Sarai and U'yn, grinning. "Don't encourage him--you're not the ones who have to clean him up." She sits down herself, finally. "Chayil let him help her clean one of the hearths, once."

Tirien looks from person to person and decides he's not in trouble. He grins and looks around for his bug again, but thankfully for it, it's long gone. Hmm. He settles for picking up pinches of dust and letting it fall to the ground again.

U'yn laughs out loud at this. "Did she help clean him up, too?" he inquires, interested.

Sarai chuckles, "What's wrong with it, Terri? Kids get dirty, they're closer to the ground, they stumble, they learn, and then one day they discover boys, or girls, and get clean."

Terrilia laughs at Sarai's progression. "True enough, but I have to at least /try/ to keep them clean, don't I? So they know it's how they're supposed to be?" She nods to U'yn, grinning. "She did, actually. He had a great time. About as messy as he's ever been."

Sarai smiles, "I used to have to be forced to take a weekly bath when I was smaller..." Sarai shakes her head. "Though in my case, the smell of manure made me want to get clean." Scooping up a handfull of dirt, Sarai drops it down beside her.Hee!

Terrilia wrinkles her nose. "Eww. That'd do it. Taliene still doesn't like a bath, but Tirien and Jehril don't mind it so much. I'm thinking of getting Livia to make one of those ships for them to play with...when she's not quite so busy." She grins.

Sarai says "Ships? Which ships?"

Terrilia grins. "Livia has some model ships she sails on the lake." She waves one hand that direction. "A small one might work in a bathing pool, I think. For the kids to play with."

Sarai huhs and thinks about that, "That's sort of a neat idea..."

U'yn pipes up, "They're really something else, her toy ships. Cool to watch."

Terrilia nods, still grinning. "I thought so. Val likes model ships, too, though the ones he's got don't sail. I bet he'd enjoy it, too."

Sarai huhs again. "I've got model animals... That's about it."

Terrilia blinks. "Model animals?" She clucks her tongue and wrinkles her nose at Tirien to discourage him from actually /eating/ the dirt.

Tirien hastily drops his hand away from his mouth, looking guilty.

U'yn mentions, "Livia's pretty careful about when she pulls them out. She doesn't like to have too many kids around or the boats get damaged. But if you asked her, I'm sure she'd show you. When she had enough time to go to the lake," he amends.

Sarai nods, "Carved ovines, bovines, an avian... The avian looks aweful, but it's hard doing wings..." Sarai grins, "Are they fragile, these boats?"

Terrilia tilts her head curiously. "You carved them? They're wooden?" She shrugs, about the boats. "Well, Talie could sink them, I think, but that's not saying much." She glances over and grins at U'yn. "She said Hicerth wanted to sit on them. She'd better be careful."

Sarai nods, "Scrap wood. From those knotty scrub trees out in the dessert. I don't do much of them, since wood-crafters want to use the wood for, you know 'real' projects."

U'yn grins. "I think she is careful with them. The carved animals sound cool, ma'am," he adds.

Terrilia nods and grins. "They do, yeah. Val's got ships all over the place...you're going to make me think I should take up carving, too. There's a nanny that does some really nice work--have you met Khai?"

U'yn considers this, with a frown. "Big rider's jacket?" he says, "I think I met her once. She was talking about the work she does."

Terrilia nods and smiles. "That's her. I think she's thinking of becoming a woodcrafter."

Sarai smiles at U'yn, "I do better with leather work... Khai? I've not met her." Sarai thinks abotu that, "Well, we don't have a great call for woodcrafters /here/. No big woods. We've got good sand, though."

"She lost her father a Turn ago, I think she said. A rider with an old injury, transfer from 'Reaches." Terrilia's smile fades a bit, and she nods. "True. I hear the sand's good for glass, anyway."

Sarai says "D'ran, he was a bluerider." Sarai pauses, "I think I knew him, actually."

U'yn agrees, "That's my thing. Leatherwork. I'm one of the few who enjoy working on straps." then listens to the discussion of the bluerider with quiet interest.

Terrilia nods sadly. "I think I remember him being around, anyway. Badly scored fellow, hard to miss." She smiles over at U'yn. "Straps, ugh."

Sarai ehs softly, "He impressed a few turns after J'cob did. I just remember him being rather huge." Sarai holds a hand up above her head, "Bit like my foster father. Folks used to joke that if he'd had a smaller blue, his feet would have dragged on the ground."

Terrilia chuckles softly and nods. "I think Khai did say something about him being big. She seems a little lonely. Or maybe she's just a quiet sort." She shrugs and loops her arms around her knees, glancing over to check on Tirien again.

Tirien has finally tired of playing in the dirt and is looking around again at various people and dragons near and far, especially Kismith (again). He's gotten himself all dusty, too, from head to toe.

Sarai frowns a little, "You get over it," she remarks before looking at U'yn, "Where did you learn leatherworking?"

U'yn considers the discussion of the girl. "I only met her the once. That's too bad she's lonely." Then he answers the weyrwoman, "I trained with the tanners in Southern, ma'am, and continued to work in the tannery at Telgar, too."

Sarai says "Southern Telgar Hold? Or you mean Southern Weyr?" Sarai tries to think abotu that for a moment and then grins. "Round here, everyone says Southern and means the hold, you see."

Terrilia listens and stands to scoop Tirien up. "Dusty boy," she murmurs to him, and he giggles and squirms as she tickles him gently.

Terrilia carefully picks Tirien up.

Sarai grins, "Bathtime?"

Terrilia grins and nods. "Yep, afraid so. Thanks for indulging him Kismith, U'yn." She grins at the pair.

U'yn salutes. "No problem. Kismith didn't mind at all." Indeed, the dragon now snoozing in his spot. "Southern weyr, ma'am," he answers. "I lived there for several turns with my other mom."

Sarai ohs, "Emlyn, right?"

Terrilia settles for a nod in return, since her hands are full of squirming toddler, grins, and starts toward the main entrance. "Clear skies!"

Terrilia heads south to the main entrance.

Sarai waves after Terrilia.

U'yn bobs his head in agreement. "Yes, ma'am. Emlyn," he sounds impressed. "She still lives there."

Sarai ahs and nods, "I don't think I know Emlyn, sad to say."

U'yn grins. "I miss her," he admits. "She's a greenrider," he adds. Important information.

Sarai nods, "It's alright to miss people, you know..."

U'yn says, humbly, "Thank you, ma'am. I'm quite happy to be at Igen, but there's still people I miss terribly."

Sarai smiles softly, "Well, that's sort of how life works. You can't always be with the people you love, when you put other people's needs before your own."

U'yn bobs his head solomnly, his hand still on Kismith, who's sleeping. "I knew what I was getting myself in for, ma'am," he says, "When I accepted Search." Small grin. "But I /do/ miss them. Even that baby brother."

Sarai chuckles, "Well, now you can just ask Kismith to bespeak ... er Spinath? No, Spineth."

U'yn's eyes open wide. "I didn't consider," he says, "Bespeaking at such a distance. He could bespeak Spineth, and Pleiath, and Decarath," he says, the idea catching hold.

Sarai grins, "See? It's not so bad. You're lucky, most of your friends and family have dragons."

U'yn nods thoughtfully. "That's true," he says. "Ursa hasn't been here to visit," he adds, considering his sleeping dragon. "I hear she stays away deliberately so she's not meddling too much or something. Would Kismith have to meet Spineth, first, to bespeak him?"

Sarai thinks about that, "You know, I don't know. Cyrath meets more dragons than I do, so when she claims to be able to speak to any dragon, I just accept it."

U'yn is still looking at his bronze lifemate. "I think it would confuse him," he says. "I think we just need Ursa and Spineth to visit."

Sarai grins, "Is your brother old enough to travel?"

U'yn answers, "He's not yet a turn, but I know she's taken him to see his grandmother a few times."

Sarai ohs and nods, "Who's the father? Your brother's I mean."

"Brownrider, originally from Reaches," says U'yn levelly. His voice is, perhaps, too controlled. "Maireth's rider, L'han."

Sarai ohs, "L'han? Lady phoenix's son?" Sarai looks faintly bemused, "He's a bit of a nutter...And that explains why he was about after the hatching." Sarai shakes her head, "Sorry. It's hard if you don't like people and they're suddenly related."

U'yn can't help himself, he laughs outloud at Sarai's description of L'han. "That's the one. Nutter describes him well. We called him the redheaded madman, at Telgar. Then he heard it, and he liked it," he sighs. "It was tough, having him suddenly around all the time, especially when he decided he was supposed to be keeping track of me. Guess I'm getting used to him, though, ma'am."

Sarai hehs, "Well, you're your own man, U'yn. Feel free to stand up for yourself if he gives you grief. And you know, it's rather nice that he's trying to care about you. Lots of people who just as soon dismiss the fifteen turn older half-brother of their child.

U'yn seems to pull himself up straighter as she says that. "It's true," he agrees. "It's hard to break old habits. And I guess it's nice. He does seem like a good daddy to Storm. I didn't even expect he'd stick around."

Sarai mouths the name but refrains from commenting on the man with 'Rain' and 'Storm' as children. "Did Ursa?"

U'yn has his own opinions about the name but doesn't offer them, either. He shrugs, "Don't really know. I doubt it. Doesn't seem like the daddy type, right off, does he?"

Sarai hmms, "Not really, no," she conceeds, a smirk on her lips. "Is Storm your only sib?"

U'yn bobs his head. "Only the one. Emlyn's never had any."

Sarai nods, and then hesitates. Finally she gives in, "Why is Emlyn on the Southern Continent?"

U'yn answers openly, though there's a touch of regret to his voice. "It's all my fault, ma'am. I was quite sick as a kid--that coughing sickness, you know. I guess it was bad, because Emlyn finally took me south to make sure I'd survive the winter. But they fought, her and Ursa. She still doesn't tell me the details. I'll bet it was petty. And they still aren't talking. So Emlyn doesn't come north, though she was at the hatching."

Sarai ohs, "That's not /your/ fault, U'yn. That's just ... well, that's life." Sarai sighs, "Not everyone you love can stay with you, like you being here on your own. You know? But /you/ didn't do anything. If you hadnt gotten sick, maybe something else would have happened..."

U'yn shrugs. "I suppose you're right. I've always felt like, if I hadn't gotten sick..." another shrug. "But it's all part of being a dragonrider, I know. Ursa would've come, I'm sure, but she couldn't leave. She was Weyrsecond and had a wing to lead. Duty. It's part of what they..." he corrects himself immediately, hand on Kismith's muzzle again, "part of what we do."

Sarai nods, "You'll end up sacrificing a lot for Pern in the end. And we won't know if it was worth it for a long time. if ever."

U'yn considers that. "Isn't it worth it?" he asks. "I mean, if we didn't do it, there'd be no Pern. Right?"

Sarai smiles, "/I/ think so, but it's not something we can be certain of. After all, when Lessa brought the old timers back, some of them thought it wasn't worth it in the end. We can only see our little piece of Pern's history, and make it the best we can. After that, it's for the historians and harpers to decide if we were right or fools."

U'yn is listening carefully, soaking it in. "I can only think it's the right thing to do," he says firmly. "I guess I've always believed that, watching Ursa and Emlyn." He shrugs. "I guess I have a different point of view than those oldtimers."

Sarai grins, "Well think on it this way, if you could see the far future, next pass, and found that Pern was being lead by fools and idiots, you may think that your work today was in vain."

U'yn frowns. "I can't see me thinking that," says the young lad, full of the idealism of youth. "If Pern's still growing flowers in all the little nooks and crannies, and there's still people who love the sunrise, or love to fly, or love to swim, or.... it can't be all in vain."

Sarai does nothing to delude the boyish idealism. After all, he could be right. "You could be right. Needless to say, I try not to think that far into the future. Getting the Weyr through the pass is my top priority."

U'yn says, respectfully, "I suppose that's mine, too, ma'am, though not in such a huge scale as yours. My part is to train be one of your riders and do the best I can. And since I can't see the fools or idiots of the future, I believe it's the right thing to do. Either way."

Sarai gently remarks, "You're not 'my' rider, U'yn. You're Igen's. I don't own anyone or really much of anything." Sarai smiles faintly, "We try to keep the foolish where they won't do much harm."

U'yn accepts the correction with a faint nod. "Yes, ma'am."

Sarai chuckles, "S'alright. I never liked being told that Igen was mine. I see it more that Igen owns me."

U'yn continues to have his hand on Kismith's sleeping muzzle, continues to retain that contact while he sits by his bronze lifemate's side. "That makes sense, actually," he says. "Like Telgar owned Ursa, and she couldn't come with us."

Sarai nods, "Same thing really. And Igen will never leave me, or stop needing me. It's always going to be here, and it's really nice to have that stability."

U'yn grins, "I wouldn't say, ma'am, that most people would think a dragonrider has much stability. But in a way, it's true."

Sarai nods, "Kismith will never stop loving you. That's more stability than you can get with a person."

U'yn observes, "Even growing up in a weyr, even seeing my moms with their dragons, I still didn't understand how true that was, how much he would be to me."

Sarai nods, "You can't really explain it to someone who hasn't been there..."

Kismith stirs, though he doesn't open his eyelids. U'yn says, thoughtfully. "Exactly." Then he asks, "Did you leave family behind to come to Igen, too, ma'am?"

Sarai waggles a hand, "Foster family, and really, I'd already 'left' home to join a craft. I lost my craft and my Masters, which was hard. Is hard."

"Which craft, ma'am?" inquires U'yn. "You mentioned carving, and leatherwork."

Sarai smiles, "Beastcraft. I wanted to be craftmaster..."

Kismith> Decarath senses that Kismith reaches out across the intervening distance, young and yet bemused. The image of his rider is clear as he begins, << He asks me if I can speak to you from far away. As if it is a hard thing. >>

U'yn ohs, "Emlyn was a bovine herder, before she was a greenrider. I heard about bovines lots growing up. None of the other beasts, though. Bovines."

Dragon> Kismith senses that Decarath's tone is faintly amused as well, vaguely greenish. << And so you can, young one. >>

Sarai grins, "Ovines for me. Master Owyn, my mentor, was an avian specialist, though, so I got my fill of that. If it walks or flies, I can probably heal it."

Something clicks into place. "Everyone was talking about ovines at the candidate's banquet," says U'yn. "Ovine everything! Even Teria talks about ovines."

Kismith> I bespoke Decarath with << He says it means he's not so far away >> repeats the young dragon << But we haven't moved any closer. >>

Dragon> Kismith senses that Decarath's reply is in sage tones. << Yes, he is a silly beast. >>

Sarai grins, "That wasn't my idea. Dendra and her gang came up with that on their own."

U'yn says, "But it was because of you, right?" Suddenly he looks at his lifemate, who isn't exactly sleeping anymore, though he's still resting. "He /can/ bespeak Decarath," he informs the weyrwoman before she can answer his question.

Sarai ahhs, "I don't know if it was because of me. Terri likes to eat them a lot. More than I do."

Kismith> I bespoke Decarath with << He wonders >> begins the young dragon, considering the message << If you could give a message to Spineth. For I've not met Spineth and can't reach him. >>

U'yn shakes his head. "Ovines. Lots of people like ovines at Igen." He's not slumping, anymore. He's looking at his lifemate, and seems energized by the new development.

Dragon> Kismith senses that Decarath ponders this, it seems, for a time. And then, he notes, << I suppose I could do this thing. But you will owe me a favour in time. I will not forget. >>

Kismith> Decarath senses that Kismith relays the message, first. << He says--tell her to visit. It's okay to visit, and he wants her to come. >> Then he inquires, interested, curious, << What kind of favour might I do? >>

Sarai says "They do alright here. Ovines. The short-haired do best, though." Sarai chuckles "Good news from Decarath?"

U'yn shrugs. "Just that he can talk to him. And I asked him to get a message to Spineth to come visit. Visits are okay, right, ma'am? If they don't interfere with our training? My friends from Telgar visited that one evening."

Dragon> Kismith senses that Decarath's voice is cool and calm and clear as ever. << I will think of something, sometime, perhaps. I will pass along this message. We will not be visiting. >>

Sarai grins, "Visits are just fine, U'yn. We don't lock you up, except for safety. like if a sandstorm kicks up."

Kismith> Decarath senses that Kismith is young, and easily switches mood. He is now confused << But you visited before. Did you not like *Igen*? >> And the last is more an image of his own familiar training field than the actual word.

Dragon> Kismith senses that Decarath sounds sullen now, tone tinging grayer. << We cannot go /anywhere/ far. >>

Kismith> Decarath senses that Kismith still resonates with a purplish confusion. << But you are Big. You can fly! Are you hurt? >>

U'yn accepts this, relaxing a bit. "I saw Ursa the day after the hatching, but Kismith was sleeping. I know she doesn't want to interfere, but it's time she came and saw how he's growing."

Dragon> Kismith senses that Decarath just sounds duller. << I cannot go *between*. >>

Kismith> Decarath senses that Kismith's young mind voice now switches to understanding. << I cannot either. >>

Dragon> Kismith senses that Decarath's tone takes on a condescending note again. << You are too young. >>

Kismith> Decarath senses that Kismith is well aware of how young he is, daily he sits and looks up at the dragons flying in the sky with longing. An image of the dragons flying far overhead leaks into his communication before he says, << He says to ask: Why can't you go between? >>

Sarai nods, "It's hard, wanting to be there with you, and knowing that she can't smother you."

Dragon> Kismith senses that Decarath grumbles. << Mine has a thing in her. >>

Kismith> Decarath senses that Kismith asks outright << What sort of thing? >>

Dragon> Kismith senses that Decarath begins to sound irritable. << It is supposedly a child. But it stays inside her, and does not go into the sand to hatch. It hatches out of her. >>

U'yn leaps to his feet with a yell, and Kismith's lids, all three layers, snap open to regard his lifemate's outburst of excitement with a whirling sudden red-gold alarm. It is only Kismith's reaction that stops U'yn's yelping, and he runs quickly to wrap both arms as far as they can go around the growing neck of his lifemate. "I'm sorry, it's okay," he tells Kismith. "I'm sorry."

Sarai arches both eyebrows, but doesn't move. In fact, she just waits patiently for the weyrlings to calm. Or perhaps to see if she'll need to step in.

Dragon> Igen Weyrling Wing sense that Kismith reaches out to the familiar dragons, a young confusion. << Decarath's rider is going to hatch something, without sands, and that makes him yell. >> The last is an image of his own lifemate, leaping and yelling in surprise.

Dragon> Igen Weyrling Wing sense that Cyrath ties to be soothing, her mellow tone simmering with curiosity << Riders hatch all the time. That is where the small one you saw today came from. >>

IGEN-> Sarai sniggers at U'yn!

Dragon> Igen Weyrling Wing sense that Hicerth rumbles sleepily, but curiously. << What do you mean, riders hatch? My girl is not going to hatch, is she? >> He is more than happy to join into Kismith's confusion.

Kismith's whirling calms as U'yn speaks to him, and his eyes become a mild purplish blue, only small astonishment registers in his eyes, now. "I'm sorry," he says, again. Then, "Sorry, ma'am. Yashira's going to have a baby." Large astonishment registers on his face, but he's struggling to control it so that he doesn't upset his young lifemate again.

Dragon> Cyrath bespoke Igen Weyrling Wing with << Oh, no no. Riders have flights, and sometimes when a male and female have a flight, the female becomes egg heavy. They don't fly very well, mind, and only get one or two hatchlings at a time. Your riders, when The Weyrlingmaster says so, will be allowed to have flights. But not until you are older. >>

Kismith> Decarath senses that Kismith reaches out after a long silence, a tentative touch. He passes on an image of his lifemate leaping up and yelling, which is tinged by the overtones of alarm this caused himself. But the young dragon is calming. << It made him yell. >>

Sarai hehs, "So Cyrath explained. Bit of a shocker, I take it?"

Dragon> Kismith senses that Decarath agrees. << I was not happy, either. >>

U'yn looks purely foolish, now. "She's my friend," he fumbles to explain. "I didn't expect that."

Dragon> Igen Weyrling Wing sense that Kismith considers this. << When I get older, he might hatch a small one? >>

Sarai chuckles, "Oh, it's alright, U'yn. Finding out old friends are pregnant, or married, or what have you always re-adjusts your world."

U'yn nods, looking rattled still. "I guess I always knew things wouldn't stay the same, when I left. But they're all changing."

Sarai points out, "They wouldn't stay the same if you'd stayed."

Dragon> Igen Weyrling Wing sense that Hicerth eyes his sleeping lifemate and rumbles decisively. << She is too small to hatch anything. >> And that is that.

Kismith> Decarath senses that Kismith reaches out again, tentative still. << Cyrath says all humans hatch small ones. He >> and it's clear he means his rider << says that it's a happy thing. He says: >> and now it's a word taken straight from his rider's mind, with U'yn's sound to it << Congratulations. He says that. >>

Dragon> Cyrath bespoke Igen Weyrling Wing with << Your rider may sire a small one. Only females can carry the eggs. Sarai said that humans carry their egg inside until the child hatches and they lay the child instead of the egg. I saw it, and I prefer my way. Then again, humans have no claws or teeth at birth. >>

Dragon> Kismith senses that Decarath grumbles all the more. << I didn't do anything to produce this thing. >>

Sarai frowns for a moment, "Oh dear... Is Cyrath explaining the avians and the VTOLs?"

U'yn looks at Kismith again, and then nods. "I think so. I didn't mean to upset him. And you're right. She'd still be pregnant, even if I were there. But then I'd have probably seen them together, lots, and wouldn't be so surprised."

Kismith> I bespoke Decarath with << I think he wants to say that to her. >>

Sarai grins and nods in agreement. "Well, what upsets you upsets him. He's not as used to the world, after all... So, er, who's the father?"

Dragon> Kismith senses that Decarath doesn't speak for a time. There's a long, long pause, and then Decarath says, << She says she was going to send a letter. She will send letters. And something else, soon enough. She says she is sorry he found out from me. I think I said it well enough. >>

U'yn looks at the weyrwoman. "I'm guessing it's M'silne. The one she chased around with juice--were you here when she did that, ma'am? She told me, back when I was a candidate. About M'silne."

Sarai thinks and shrugs, "I don't recall, though probably. Huh. M'silne I met..." Sarai pauses, "I thought you and Yashira were, well, something? I was never quite certian there."

Dragon> Igen Weyrling Wing sense that Kismith accepts this slowly, carefully, the confusion that swirls out of him abating ever so gradually. << He might sire a human hatchling, >> he echoes << Some day. Like some day, I might sire a hatching. >> This is information he seems to already understand, at least on some juvenile level. << When I can fly. Or later. >>

Dragon> Cyrath bespoke Igen Weyrling Wing with << Much later. >>

Dragon> Igen Weyrling Wing sense that Keturath's mind whirls a cacophonous blizzard as the young gold stretches awake. << You will? Then /I/ shall sire hatchlings >> she proclaims in solidarity with her sibling, her teammate.

U'yn responds, with a sullen shrug. "Friends," is how he fills in the something. "Good friends." He amends, "Best friends. The kind you talk to when you need to talk. The kind..." He shrugs again. "We weren't, ever, /something/," he insists. Softly.

Dragon> Igen Weyrling Wing sense that Cyrath's laughter is rich with adult bemusment over little dragon dreams. << You, Keturath, will be mother to hatchlings. You will carry and lay eggs, and watch them hatch. That is what golds do. Only bronze and browns sire, only golds mother. >>

Sarai winces softly at the dragon chatter, "Ah, I know the kind. And you were something. You were friends."

Kismith> Decarath senses that Kismith responds, << He says he will send a letter, too. >> and the hunger that begins to intrude upon his young mind voice signals a likely end to the young dragon's interest in speaking to far away dragons across many mountains.

Dragon> Igen Weyrling Wing sense that Hicerth grows thoughtfully quiet, then rumbles again. << Kismith and I will sire hatchlings? My girl will hatch hatchlings? Keturath will lay eggs? This is all too complicated. >>

Dragon> Igen Weyrling Wing sense that Cyrath simply gives the mental impression that humans are a complicated sort. Dragons make sense.

Kismith's calm seems to have evaporated, for now his eyes whirl red-orange, though not in alarm, but in hunger. His lifemate says, "Ma'am, I appreciate your understanding and your listening ear. If you'll excuse us," He nods towards his lifemate, assuming the reason for a sudden departure is obvious.

Dragon> Igen Weyrling Wing sense that Keturath seems to agree, as her thoughts slowly twist back into their normal, ordered state. << Why may I not sire clutches, as well as Kismith? Why may Kismith not lay the eggs, and Hicerth? >>

Sarai waves a hand, and grins, "Have fun."

U'yn salutes in farewell. "Thanks, ma'am."

Dragon> Cyrath bespoke Igen Weyrling Wing with << Females carry eggs, males sire them. That is simply the way the world workds. >>