The Dragonriders of PernŽ is a trademark, Registered U.S. Patent & Trademark Office, of Anne McCaffrey. This is a recorded session, generated by Harper's Tale MOO in May, 1999, for the benefit of members unable to attend. Logged by Pyrene.
Underwear
[Sadly, Pyrene's first encounter with Lis (right back in summer '98) has long since been lost to the ages. But I think this is a worthy first log of Lis-Py rp]
Living Caverns
The rough-hewn majesty of this cavern far outpaces any delight in the multitudes of curves that form its enclosure. The glabrous grey granite is shot through with translucent obsidian, lending subtly-veined sparkle to the walls and the foot-trodden smoothness of the floor that shows centuries-old placements of the scarred trestle tables; carven hollows give homes for the glow baskets and the coat-pegs that line the walls. No mosaics, no painting, no tiles: just a few well-done tapestries mark the pathway that lead to the kitchen to the north and the inner caverns to the west, and frame the nighthearth's stew and snacks, while a heavier strip of oiled canvas shields the unwary from the wind in the bowl.
Tucked into a glowlit niche are Atlas, Ford, Bundr, Majicke, Kynance, Kelpie, Nocturno, Lox, Charlemagne, Kya, Qyvox, Keka, Vibo, and Maeve.
You see Tray 'o bubblies and rainbow bread loaves here.
Obvious exits:
Bowl Kitchens Inner Caverns Crafting Area
Liseria arrives from deeper in the Weyr.
Liseria
Peeking out from behind her father's old cap, turned backwards in a defiant but loving statement, two brown eyes shine shyly like two mugs of klah, fresh and steaming from the fire. Between the eyes lies a nose, long and somewhat large but with an upturned end in a effort to appear cute. Her skin is speckled with the occasional blemish of adolescence, but for the most part fair with a light tan. Her lips have a hue of light pink all their own, curling into a grin and sometimes parting in a laugh to expose a smile of white. Framing her face with errant sun-spun strands, Liseria's hair is unruly at best. Only with her stalwart effort will it lay in the curvy little waves that she's got it to be in now. Today, it's held back by a small plaid kerchife, to keep it out the way for chores.
Winding about her long legs like a fair of low-flying firelizards is a large and very nearly tent-like patchwork skirt. Squares of fabric are sown together in what appears to be an orderly fashion. Blues, greens, purples, yellows and reds dot their way over the fabric in various floral patterns. From the waist up, Liseria's torso is covered in an oversized woolen sweater, mostly white with funky gray stains littering across its front and back. Frayed sleeves and hem belie that this garment has seen better days, but it is still thick and sturdy, strands woven in a simple pattern. Said strands are covered with lumps, giving the sweater an apprentice-made brand and an interstingly nubbly texture that begs to be touched. But don't you dare! Hiding in Liseria's hair is Bossk. Perched on Liseria's shoulder is Tesser. Perched on Liseria's shoulder is Jaibyrd.
Not just one knot, there appears to be two on her arm, one above the other. The first is a red and silver number, denoting her as an Apprentice of the Starcraft. The other, looking much newer and better kept, is a fine-looking collection of blues and blacks of High Reaches Weyr, intermingled with the white threads of Candidacy.
She is awake and looks alert.
Carrying:
Liseria's DistanceViewer Tesser
Bossk Jaibyrd
Liseria is 17 Turns, 2 months, and 23 days old.
You notice Liseria looking at you.
Pyrene stretches from her place by the night hearth to blink at Liseria, "You're up early..." So's she. Too early to state anything but the obvious.
Liseria manages a sleepy finger-waggle in the direction of Pyrene before collapsing into a chair. Yaaawn. "Aye," she mumbles around an open mouth, ending in a little sigh. "Early 'nough to get a head start on chores." Ick.
Pyrene chuckles wickedly, "Well, that /is/ nice to hear. Such hard working candidates that we have..." She points a foot towards a table, "klah's over there and juice. Get it while there's peace and quiet. Faranth knows, thats why /I'm/ up."
Liseria curls her mouth into a lopsided grin at the first observation. "It'll be worth it. And it's -almost- fun to do something other than polish the 'viewer." Note that -almost-; chores of any kind are never fun. Getting up from her chair, she drags herself and her 'crew' of 'lizzen along as she pours herself klah...Mmm, klah.
"It will?" wonders Pyrene, leaning down from her chair to pick up an empty glass from the floor. She holds it out to Liseria with an innocent-eyed smirk, "Be a good candidate and fill this with redfruit juice for me? What chores are you on anyway that need such a headstart?"
Liseria grumbles something about being taken advantae of, being such a nice person and all, but dutifully picks up the redfruit pitcher. As she makes her way to Pyrene and fills the cup, she replies matter-of-factly. "Peeling stuff. Seems there's a lot of root-y things that need to be peeled. And I have to relive the klah-makers who've been up before me." Half-smirk is sent towards the kitchen. Poor Candidates.
Pyrene takes advantage of any and everybody because she /knows/ that everybody takes advantage of her. This way it's fair, see? "Thanks," she replies, taking the glass. At least she has manners from time to time. "Well, don't you think it's nice that people are including you in the daily goings on of the Weyr? We're such a welcoming bunch you see." She shakes her head, chuckling to herself, "Things could be worse...."
Liseria shrugs, hefting the pitcher back to where it came from. "Nice?" Well, that one will have to mull itself over for a while in Lis' head. Plopping down in a chair not too far from the pitcher's final resting place - lazy, isn't she? -, she arches and eyebrow. "Really?"
Pyrene waves an arm vaguely, "Well, it's what... just for a couple of months. Then you either get to spend a turn mucking out your dragon's couch or you can go home and escape the madness. Or if you really wanted, you could carry on with chores here. I'm sure nobody would mind."
Liseria props her chin up on the back of the chair, arms folded under it. "True. I haven't given much thought as t'what I'd be doing later. Maybe finally getting journeyman, and going to Keroon. It's where I grew up, y'know." Another wistful sigh is cast towards the kitchen doors. Yep, that's where she's gonna get stuck soon as the sun's up. "All I know is that if I /do/ stay here, I'm not gonna be doing chores."
Pyrene shrugs, "That's the idea, isn't it? To stay and not do chores... Doesn't work out all that well though." She grimaces, and sighs, "What did you have in mind?"
Kyavan arrives from deeper in the Weyr.
Kyavan
Straight sandy brown hair, colored with coppery shots of golden sunny rays, hang down to this boys shoulders, covering an oval face that is a clear, tanned peach. A high forehead leads down to eyes that contain several shades of blue flecked together into the shade which they are. Eyebrows match his hair color. Cheeks carry a light pinkish tone as do thin lips. Wiry and long, this boy seems tall and all legs, though much of that is misleading as he stands about as tall as the rest of his peers, not often that much taller. Thin, yet not too thin, shoulders sit squared flanking his still youthful self, his chest not overly muscular, but not scrawny either. Pulled all together into one boy, he looks rather active and quite the tomboy.
A well-worn vest of darkened navy hangs over a long sleeved, grey tunic decorated with embroidered dragons taking up chase around the hemlines which wind around the bottom and up the front. Looking somewhat worn, it fits in quite nicely with the dark, dusky blue trous which hold in the tucked tunic fastened to the lean boy with a dark belt. The trousers slip against strong legs, and are tucked into dark blue boots, scuffed and well worn along with the rest of the outfit Perched on Kyavan's shoulder is Snow.
He is awake and looks alert.
Carrying:
Snow
Kyavan is 9 Turns, 11 months, and 15 days old.
Liseria lifts her shoulders in a broad shrug, bringing several protesting squeaks from those perching on her. "That's just it; I have no idea!" Slumping down again, she sends another tired finger-waggling to the newcomer.
Kyavan wanders out, just an easy wander... growing boy needs a midnight snack.
Pyrene cringes in her seat at the sight of a child. Her working day starts earlier and earlier. No greeting is given, just a careful surveyance from her chair. She mutters out of the corner of her mouth to Liseria, "Take my advice and don't try for nannying."
Liseria snickers to herself, shaking her head a little. "Wasn't planning on it," she mutters back with a little smirk.
Kyavan saunters, he does, right over to the meatrolls, of which he picks out a handful or so, nibbling on the first.
Pyrene shakes her head and sighs, "Fire lizards are less hassle than the brats here. for that matter, candidates are too." She watches Kyavan thoughtfully. Well, he's behaving for now...
Liseria mock-snorts, sitting up in her chair. "Who, us?" she demands rather squeakily, holding her hand up to her chest. Eyebrow arches again as she looks at Pyrene. "Din't know Candidates were thought of like that..." Add that to the list of debunked myths.
Kyavan always behaves, and wanders over to a chair to flop into it, munching a meatroll into oblivion, smile for the adults.
Pyrene snorts at Liseria, "Oh, yes. We love candidates, really. Don't we Ky?" Kynance blinks from the mantle with a sleepy chirp and Pyrene shakes her head at him. "No not you, him, the brat," she levels a finger at Kyavan. "Candidates are nice well-behaved creatures aren't they? Compared to weyrbrats of course."
Liseria tilts her chair back, leaning her arms against the wall. "Oh, if only y'all knew." Little smirk is given to all in the room, as if she's privvy to something no one else is. Ah, but everyone knows that the Candidates have pulled pranks. It's a given!
Kyavan blink-blinks as he looks up, then nods, head bobbing up and down. "Uh huh." he answers, whether it be he who was talked to or not.. his name's Ky.
Pyrene cocks her head at Liseria. "Oh, really? and what don't we know?" she asks, challenging with a gleam of genuine curiosity in her eyes. Ky the brat is ignored, although one hand reaches to scritch Ky the lizard in affection.
Liseria shrugs again, chair tipping back dangerously. "Nothing really. Just all the planning and Faranth-knows-what that goes on when no-one's looking." But isn't that just like everyone?
Kyavan is ignored, though he doesn't seem to mind, finishing a second meatroll of his three, watching quietly, though no more.
Pyrene watches the chair tipping, resisting the automatic urge to tell her not to tip her chair like that. "Faranth-knows-what? And what about Liseria-knows-what?" she asks, then thinks about her question and tries one that she can understand herself, "I mean, what's going on that /you/ know about. Any inside information you can give us?" She cocks her head at Kyavan, thinking, "Same goes for you, you know. I could make it worth your while."
Liseria leans her back against the stone, arms folding over her chest. "Nope. I'm not privy to 'nough of it." That, and maybe she's got some great tidbits to use as leverage. Knowing Lis, prob'ly not. But then again, she just might know -something-...
Kyavan blinks again, noticing glance towards him, though he looks somewhat clueless. "Same what goes for me?" he wonders, "Worth my while?"
Pyrene picks up Kynance and sticks him in her lap for easier caressing. It's good to relieve stress and help you think, you know. Certainly the lizard isn't bothered. "C'mon, you two. What are the brats and or candidates currently planning? Or to be more accurate, what have they done, that I have yet to find out about. It's only fair warning, you know."
Keka exchanges the protection of stone for the bowl outside.
Liseria doesn't say anything, just points one finger in the direction of the bowl. 'Course, that's not the -only- thing, but we'll get to that later. One prank at a time.
Kyavan shrugs slim shoulders, as an innocent, rather sweet grin slides across his face, "Nuthin that I know've." he offers. Brats are innocent' aren't they?
Pyrene follows the direction of finger and fire lizard and glances curiously at Liseria, "The bowl?? You haven't been at the dragons again have you?" She stands up, shifting Ky back to the mantel. "Is it safe to go out there?" Probably safer than in here when there's a brat looking that innocent.
Liseria shakes her head hurriedly. No, that's not her forte. "Nope. Only human stuff." That much being given out, she nods at Pyrene. "Far as I know."
Pyrene regards Liseria carefully as she edges cautiously towards the entrance. "Anybody else coming? Kyavan? You'd like to go play in the bowl, wouldn't you?" That's it. Send the disposable ones out first to check it's safe.
Kyavan blinks, "Why wouldn't it be safe?" he wonders, before nodding amicably. "Sure," That;s always fun.
Pyrene stands aside. "Lead on then, there's a good boy," she urges cheerily, looking back to Liseria. "You coming out too, seeing as you're going to be stuck in the kitchens for the rest of the day?"
Liseria snickers, watching the two banter back and forth about simply going out into the bowl. Why would they get to antsy about it? 'Snot like there's crawlies hanging from the tunnel or anything.
Kyavan slips down off his chair and grins up at the nanny, "Alright" he says, feeling a bit of importance at leading the whole contingent. off the boy goes, sauntering towards the bowl.
Kyavan exchanges the protection of stone for the bowl outside.
Bundle up 'gainst snow or sun! The bowl is open to seasons' wrath.
Central Bowl
Seven spindles brush the clouds -- quite literally -- overhead, a jagged, spired cotillion grey-stoned majesty. The bowl from here is expansively large, extending a full half mile in both directions, and although sometimes a bit of a stretch, most of the hubs of activity can be easily observed. Hard-packed ground shows the common pathways, all of them meandering about the craggy bunch of boulders that form a centerpiece: carven, hand-worn and foothold-full, it gives a bit of centerpoint to the otherwise vast emptiness of the area.
To the north lie the hatching grounds and leadership weyrs, while the lows of herdbeasts mark the feeding pens to the northeast. A flurry of ever-present activity marks the living caverns to the west, and another time-traveled path the ground weyrs just adjacent to the southwest. Southeast, a glint of blue shows the lake, glittering and cold.
It is a winter before dawn. The cloudless night sky is sprinkled with twinkling stars. The air is bitingly cold, the chill made worse by the breeze blowing in from the north.
Clinging to footholds in the boulder-mound are Jesse, Nonono, Cynic, Mera, Chee, Kiwi, Ghost, Gunwalloe, and Keka.
Brown Azrieth, blue Kyleth, and blue Sardrinth are here.
You see a wagonmaster, Glyph, Weyrwoman's Frilly Underwear Hanging From StarStones, and Wagon Two here.
Kyavan is here.
Obvious exits:
Pens Northern Bowl Caverns Ground Weyrs Lakeside
Pyrene follows in the safe central position, assuming that Liseria's bringing up the rear. If not, well. She's fairly sure there's nothing dangerous behind her. Glancing carefully around, she lets out that breath she's been holding. "Can't /see/ anything different." So she hasn't looked up yet. It's always best to look for dangers on the ground first.
Liseria steps out from the Weyr's living caverns.
Kyavan wanders on out, not suspecting anything, he usually doesn.t... and why should he> No reason to. He turns around, dawning that grin again as he looks back at Pyrene, walking backwards.
Liseria strolls into the open, shivering in the surprisingly cold breeze. Meandering up behind Pyrene and Kyavan, she tosses a casual glance sky-ward, then back down at the ground.
Pyrene watches Kyavan walk backwards in the idle hope that he might actually trip over something and provide some entertainment after all. But Liseria's oh-so-casual glance at the sky is seen out of the corner of her eye, and Pyrene knows about casual glances. She sends her own up, and then turns it into an incredulous stare, mouth dropping open in helpless laughter, "Who...? /What/...? How...?"
Weyrwoman's Frilly Underwear Hanging From StarStones
Pretty in pink, they're bedecked with frill and lace and even pearls sown on delicately around the edges! A cute pair of high-cut little bottoms are all they are, the top not having been purloined in time. How one would be comfortable in all the dangling baubles isn't known, but apparently someone is. And someone's going to be missing their undergarments, flapping for all their be-dazzling glory in the winter winds.
Liseria digs the toe of her boot into the dusty bowl, making a little crater for herself. "Oh, /that/." As if it were nothing. "Just a little poking around, some old Starcrafter records," is given as an explanation.
Kyavan blinks again, clueless boy looking up, following glances. At first, he just looks, as if not understanding though he soon enough wrinkles up his nose and giggles, covering his eyes with both hands... boys aren't supposed to see those, are they?
Pyrene drags her eyes away to stare at Liseria, "Don't they give you starcrafters wherhide?? Whose are they?" She glances towards Kyavan, "And no getting ideas either. My things are all kept under lock, key and fire lizard guard." She chuckles and shakes her head as he covers his eyes, "Yes, best not to look too hard, I suppose," she murmurs, completely disregarding this advice.
Kyavan? Get ideas? Most likely not, unless someone suggested them to him, and asked him to... then he'd go and do it without a second thought. He peeks out tween two fingers.
Liseria takes another casual glance at the auspicious underwear, as if she could've forgotten. "'Reiah's." Faranth only knows how she got the junior weyrwoman's unmentiontionables to hang in the first place.
Pyrene makes as if to put her hand over Kyavan's fingers to make sure, but at Liseria's next comment, she just dissolves into helpless laughter, dropping onto a snowdrift near the boy. "Reiah's??" she glances up and shakes her head, "I should have guessed from the colour..." she murmurs cryptically before wiping laughter tears from her eyes and grinning at Liseria, "She'll go spare when she finds out. Reiah doesn't often get angry, but when she does, she's got an awfully big dragon backing her up."
Kyavan wrinkles up his nose... after all, they're pink, and they're frilly and they're... well, he;s just a typical boy he is... and eyebrows rise as he looks down at the nanny. "Dragons don't hurt people." so he's been told. "Less they're on the sand." So one just has to watch what they're standing on, yes? "This is snow."
Liseria shakes her head at the promiscuous underwear, never having thought of that. "Well, I hope a queen won't go beserk just 'cause her rider did." Nodding, she adds her statement tto Ky's: "She's eggs on the sand, y'know. I heard dragons'll even stay after their rider dies just 'cause the eggs."
Neola steps out from the Weyr's living caverns.
Pyrene shrugs, "Well, yes. But they're never in the best mood when they're egg-sitting either. I mean, if Areiah drags you onto the sand... Even if Bryth doesn't actually /do/ anything, being stared at by that much dragon with blazing red eyes bigger than your head.... Well, it's not fun." She smirks at the thought of somebody else enjoying such a lack of fun though, until Neola appears, at which point she scrunches further down in her snowdrift and behind Liseria. Brat alert.
Kyavan still has his eyes covered with his hands, though he has pointed out that it is snowy out. "Staring doesn't hurt." he notes, dropping his hands. "Does it?"
Liseria shrugs at Ky, looking over at him. "I wouldn't know." Pyrene seems to be the expert on such things, so the kidlet might be better off asking her. Calling out the person behind the bank which 'isn't really there', she asks: "They do that?" with a tinge of fear in her voice. Being stared at by an irate queen dragon doesn't sound like too much fun.
Neola quietly skitter-scampers out into the bowl in her usual fashion, looking around quietly and positivly beaming as she notices the snow. Ooh. Snow! Now for some tar- Ahh.. There we are. Whats this? A Nanny? Ooh. Target practice time? "Hullo!" She greets cheerfully, looking around again before skittering closer to the group, "Whats going on?"
Kyavan shrugs those slim shoulders and oohs, bouncing over, or sauntering as he seems always to be doing, stuffing hands in his pockets. "Hullo." he grins, shaking bangs that dangle in his face out of the way. Another kid. More fun than looking at uhm..... Yah, those.
Pyrene peeks out from behind Liseria at Neola and draws her head hastily back again. "Queen dragons are expert at staring," she mutters, not that she's really an expert on the subject, but she has Opinions. "It might not actually /hurt/ but it's enough to give you nightmares for a week."
Liseria arches an eyebrow at Pyrene. Well, not literally, since the girl's ducking behind her. "I'd expect it would." She shivers, getting nervous just -thinking- about that. "Was there something you did to warrant /that/ punishment?" Innocent question, sure enough. But a probing one, nontheless.
"Queen dragons? What 'bout em?" Neola asks, curious as ever and quite hyper. But then, isn't that always the case? Cookies for breakfast, cookies anytime. They're good! "Oh, hullo!" She offers, noticing the other Bratling for the first time and grinning a little. Hmm, two brats now. Just, will he take sides? She could use his help afterall. "Whatcha doing?"
Kyavan shrugs at Neola and grins. "They stare." is his answer about queen dragons. "I'm not doing nuthing." yet at least. Jovial grin returns quite easily upon his face as he tips his head. "What bout you?"
Pyrene blinks, not that anybody can see it. "I didn't. But they tend to stare anyway when they're brooding, it's not like they've got much else to do. And if they're irritated, then they stare hard." She reaches up and pats Liseria on the small of her back comfortingly, "But don't worry, maybe Areiah'll yell at you off the sands." She peers sidelong at the brats again, "The pair of you might be peeling tubers for Liseria while Areiah has a few words with her. Won't that be nice?"
Liseria blinks at Pyrene's other helpful suggestion. Oh, goody; now instead of a brooding dragon, she'll have an irate weyrwoman ranting at her. But, the idea of recruiting kidlets to peel her tubers brings a smile to her face. Yes, that would be very nice, very nice indeed.
Neola blinks a little and shrugs at the other Brat's question, "Me? Oh.. Nothing." Nothing yet. And nothing good, thats for sure. Though attention flits over to Pyrene for the briefest of moments before going to the snow all 'round them. Ooh, so tempting. But she'll have to wait. Time's not just right.. 'Sides, the nannies not in proper range just yet. She knows, she's had a good teacher. Namely, Pyrene herself. "Tubers eh? Nah, get one of the other brats to do it. I don't peel tubers."
Kyavan blinks, and wrinkles up his nose. "Tuber peeling?" he asks, thinking for a moment. "I can't, nobody'll let me have a knife." is this boy's excuse. "besides, I'm busy." With what? He'll think of something... maybe.
You say, "You don't tidy nurseries either, or so the rumour goes..." Pyrene observes casually, with a knowing look at Neola, "Rumours can change surprisingly quickly though." Forget Spoonfuls of Sugar. Blackmail works far better on the modern child. "Oh, Neola can do the actual peeling Kyavan, we'll just let you scrub them and throw the peels away. Anything else you're supposed to be doing,
Lis?""
Kyavan thinks, then grins. "Okay." he decides. Of course, to get him to throw away peels, they've got to convince Neola to peel... he's safe.. he hopes.
Liseria humphs to herself, sending a wary glace to the kitchen by way of the caverns. "Aye, peeling the said foodstuff. And making breakfast for the weyrfolk." Speaking of which, she can almost hear a certain Thiyo calling her name. By the Egg, can't she /ever/ leave Lis alone?!
Neola blinks a little as an idea pops into mind and almost wicked grin flits across bratling's face, "You mean, if I peel tubers I get to use a knife?" Ooh, now there's a scary thought! "In that case.. Peeling might be fun, you'd help me, right? Kyavan?"
Kyavan nods and grins. "Course." he answers, turning around, suddenly thinking. "I want to peel too, I'm old enough." Chest is puffed out and chin raised... he's taller now see?
Pyrene beams radiantly, "Oh, yes. Of course you need a knife to peel tubers." What she doesn't mention is the supervision of somebody else. Maybe this Thiyo, or perhaps Gladys. "Oh you can have a knife too, then Ky." If she's not watching them, it doesn't make much difference to her. Straightening up slightly she nudges Liseria, "You'll be safer with Reiah, if they do get knives. Just a friendly warning."
Liseria crinkles her nose in a grin. "Aww, they can't be /that/ bad," she replies to Pyrene. "At least they're willing. And if the tubers don't survive I can always make shred 'em and fry 'em. Makes a good breakfast treat, I heard." Mind starts to drift off as Lis ponders what to do with all these tubers. Must have a secret field of 'em in the catacombs somewhere.
Starr walks in.
Kyavan looks at Neola as if he just had a turnday, grinning. He gets to help, he does. Yup. Hey, they can shread tubers too? That could be fun.
Supervision? Ha! Never worked before.. Nee's a sneaky little Brat for sure. "I do? I get to actually hold a knife? Really and truly?" Okay, now is the time to start worrying. She's /far/ too eager about this all. Far far too eager. That can only spell trouble.. "A good sharp one too? Good for lots of things?"
Starr hops off and waves to the dragon that drops her off, yup yup, tillek's watch dragon don't you know. Immediately she peers round then grins seeing NeeNee hurries over to her then eyes go wide as she catches sight of the other girls words, < signing something > you get a knife?
Pyrene tilts her head at Neola and considers making an escape, "Yes, but I should warn you that they'll search you before you leave and take it off you." And if that isn't common practice, it's going to be after she has a word with Nadesda. She rolls her eyes at Liseria, "Trust me, /don't/ stay in the same kitchen as them. Try something safer, like seeing how thick the ice is on the lake."
Liseria rolls her eyes at Pyrene as yet another comment on weyrbrats spills forth. If the girl weren't the 'Reaches nanny, Lis wouldn't believe her. "Alright. I can keep an eye on 'em, and I'll have plently of kitchen staff bustling around with me. I'll be safe," she adds with a nod.
Kyavan grins. That must mean yes. "Me too, I get a knife too?" he checks again... a boy can never be to sure after all..
Pyrene shrugs and grins, eyes dancing wickedly, "It's your funeral... Be good to her won't you kids? Yes, Ky, a knife of your very own to peel tubers with." Biting her lip as she looks at the grouping, she shakes her head again. "I should go, some things I need to do..." she mutters weakly, and hastens back inside, the sound of helpless laughter drifting behind her.
You know? Thats actually good advice. Advice like that should be carefully followed. "Ooh, a knife." Neola repeats, more to herself then anyone else before she spots Starr and watches the signing carefully. Not quite catching all of it but some of it at least, "Yeah, a knife. Just haveta volunteer to peel tubers. Easy as that." She replies, grinning a little back at the other two 'dults before turning back to Starr, "Oh, you still have your badge?" She whispers softly, though slowly so Brat turned Harper can read her lips, "Wondered how you liked it. And if you still had it?"
