The Dragonriders of Pern® is a trademark, Registered U.S. Patent & Trademark Office, of Anne McCaffrey. This is a recorded session, generated by Harper's Tale MOO on Saturday 10 January 2004 for the benefit of members unable to attend. Logged by Pyrene and C'radoc.

Lunchtime Fisticuffs

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.

C'radoc
Black hair has begun to show its age, as slight streaks of grey work into the shaggy mane that frames the grizzled man's face. Ashen shades also pepper his thick beard, yet the pair of ice-blue eyes that stare from his face are as lively as ever. Lines have begun to crease at the corners of his eyes and lips, showing his age. While he is lean in build, perhaps a bit too thin, he is quite lanky, making up for the lack of girth in an excess of height.
An old brown riding jacket is tailored to his form, a few patches covering up the wear and tear of time. A tunic of darker brown can be seen underneath, along with a belt of black leather, leading down to a loose pair of charcoal-shaded trousers and a pair of scuffed grey boots.
He is an adult of about 46. He is awake, but seems rather distracted.

Tamera
Straight auburn hair is trimmed short and just off-the-collar, matched by thinly arched brows over bright green eyes. Her face is faintly heart-shaped with an aquiline nose and full lips giving her a somewhat pouty expression. There is some muscle on her bones giving her broader than average shoulders for her 5'10 frame and a feline-like grace as she moves.
A sage green tunic is belted down over an old, slightly baggy pair of brown trousers with a strap of weyrhide. A worn pair of boots encase her feet to protect them from the rigors of travel.
She is a teenager of about 19. She is awake, but seems rather distracted.

C'radoc smiles soflty as he scarfs down his meal of meatrolls, sitting at the table specially made for Cloudburst. Funny little sounds escape him as he eats, of course, he probably thinks he's alone.

Tamera wanders into the cavern slowly, not quite gapeing in wonderment.  A travel-stained rucksack is dropped just inside the entryway before her eyes light on the hearth and the table nearby.  Wondering if anyone will mind a stranger getting a bit of klah, she still edges warily in that direction.

C'radoc looks up from his nearly finished meal, he picks up the plate and makes to lick it but spotting another person his personality changes abrubtly, and he wipes his mouth politely, "Hello there ma'am." He gentlemanly bow of the head and wave at a nearby chair. "Do join me if you like."

Tamera starts slightly at the man's sudden attention but smiles slightly with a nod of her head.  She quickly fills a mug with steaming klah, taking his invitation as permission as well.  A few lithe strides take her to a chair across from the man, she sinks carefully into the seat.  "Thank you, sir." she says softly.

 C'radoc levels eyes with the girl and a brilliant, teeth flashing smile spreads across his face. A hand is extended, after being wiped of course, "C'radoc bronze rider of Umiheth and Cloudburst High Reaches Wing. That is high reaches of the old time. Not of this time." He smiles softly, "And I know you are from High Reaches..but what is your title?" A soft light comes to his eyes.

Tamera grasps the older man's hand carefully since she's been on the losing end of many handshakes in her life.  "I beg your pardon, sir, but I'm not from High Reaches.  Well, not the Hold or Weyr at least." she says.  "I'm Tamera...just Tamera, no title or anything like that."  She's a bit puzzled at the reference to 'old time' but doesn't ask, not wanting to seem impertinent.

C'radoc raises and eyebrow carefully, "Oh, really? So you're new?" He pauses puzzling over this, "Well no worries, I won't tell the Weyrwoman or the head woman on you. It will all be over soon anyway I think, yes?" He takes a swig of klah, as if it was ale or some other hard liquor. "So your secret is safe with me. But I would suggest keeping this quiet, yes? I'm surprise you came right out and said it."

Tamera cocks her head at the oddness of the reply, a slight smile quirking her lips as she sips at her own mug.  "It's not truely a secret, sir." she says, shrugging slightly.  "At least I'm not running away from anything or anyone. Just trying to earn a living and find a place to settle, you know."

C'radoc grins softly and shakes his head, "You don't know then!" He laughs heartily, "High Reaches is under quaratine, no one in, no one out." He smiles gently, "Mostly due to the time hop you know...and the plague we might have brought back, but it ends up your plague ended up killing one of ours." He shakes his head.

Tamera blinks in surprise, stunned at this news.  "Of course I didn't know! Quarantine?" she repeats, totally caught off guard.  "Great Faranth...now what do I do?"  A dejected slump curves her shoulders forward as she stares into the swirling klah before something else the rider said brings her head back up.  "Uhhh...time hop?  Plague?  What...do you mean?"  She's really been out of touch apparently.

C'radoc smiles comfortingly at the girl, "Well you'll just have to settle here I guess. Pyrene won't let you out once she finds you here, but if you snuck out now I suppose you'd be okay..." A soft laugh, "You haven't heard anything, where on pern did you come from? The red star?" He yawns and leans back in his chair, "There was a plague back in our day, so our weyrleader had the bright idea of jumping forward in time to bring people back to help us fight the thread, besides some lack of intellegence in that decision, we ended up too soon, before the end of thread fall..." He sighs, "In any event your plague claimed one of ours, and now we're stuck here...Lots of politics, I'm not really interested in that stuff." Another flash of his brilliant smile to accompany his rather large lie, that part about politics.

Tamera sighs softly and shrugs.  "Well, here's as good as anywhere, I suppose. I'm from a tiny little mining hold up in the high mountains, we don't hear much news up there." she says distractedly.  "Stuck here?  Oh my...What kind of plague was here in the weyr?  You don't mean that one that went through the firelizards, do you?  I didn't know dragons could be affected by that...."  She knows nothing of politics so she doesn't even notice that he might have lied about that part.

C'radoc smirks softly and nods, "Yes, the dragons got it too normally however don't die from it..." He frowns but slowly goes deeper as he thinks, "However, the jump between times weakens the dragons a good deal and when the blue caught it he went very quickly." Eyes water gently as his dragon still mourns but he chuckles and shrugs, "Yes well, they should have told you, I'm surprised they got you in..I wonder if something is going on."

Tamera frowns at the information.  "I'm sorry about the loss of one of your dragons, it must be very difficult." she says softly.  "I don't know if anything is going on or not...just came up the entrance tunnel, didn't see anyone to ask if it was okay either."  She sighs softly, not really knowing what to say, all her plans flown out the window so to speak.

C'radoc cocks his head to one side and crosses his arms leaning back in his chair with a smile, "So what were you planning on doing? You said you were looking for a place to settle down, and now you have one." His brows furrow. "It's not so bad. I lived in High Reaches, time traveled and still live here." He grins. "It's a nice enough place, and the food is good, and I'll tell you the ale is better in this time than in the past." His eyes twinkle.

Tamera chuckles softly at his comment, relaxing a bit more as her heart stops racing and she can think again.  "It can't be any worse than the mining camp I came from, at least it might be more than just sorting different grades of coal." she says.  "I guess it's a good place to be, at least till I can find out what I'm good at besides wandering around underground.  Maybe I can work with the beasts I saw on my way in here....or whatever needs doing."

C'radoc nods softly with a grin, "Well mucking the stalls is really drudge work, they might led you ride some, if you know what you're doing." A soft laugh, "You don't look like a drudge once we're allowed out of here you could join the herders..." A thoughtful pause.

Tamera smiles bashfully at the bronzerider, ducking her head slightly.  "I don't mind hard work and I do know how to ride a runner, that was one of my jobs at the camp...taking care of the few runners we had." she says softly. "I don't know if I would like it well enough to join a craft, I'll have to see.  One never knows how things will come out in the end, right?"

C'radoc smiles and nods, "Yes, I suppose one could never know." He chuckles as he grabs up another meatroll. "There is some food over there if you need it, in the mean time we have to come up with some story, you can't say that you've come in, they'll be a fit..."

Tamera glances over in the direction of the hearth table and rises to grab a bite to eat.  A couple meatrolls, some cheese and a bit of dried fruit on the side complete a frugal meal, with the klah it should be just enough to satisfy the rumbling in her stomach.  "Thank you, I am hungry, just didn't want to take advantage of the Weyr." she says.  After a thoughtful bite or two she frowns slightly and continues, "I don't want to lie to anyone, but I can understand why some folks would be upset.  Maybe if I don't say anything no one will notice?"

C'radoc smiles softly and nods, the tips of his teeth showing, "Yes well, you can take that chance if you like, but people won't recognize you and ask about you, and then what will you do? No...Either you'll tell the truth and things will fall out, I mean, if you tell the truth it's not just you who gets hurt...The weyr will be in panic..."

Tamera frowns again as she digests this information along with the rest of the first meatroll and nods slowly as understanding dawns.  "I suppose you're right.  I don't understand why the weyr would be in a panic, but then I know little about riders and what they think and do anyway." she says thoughfully. "What do you think I should do?  I'm....just a bit out of my depth here, sir."

C'radoc pretends to think deeply, well practice at lying himself he's rarely caught, "Perhaps we shouldn't lie, I mean now that I know, if I don't tell  and you get caught I will be in a lot of trouble too." He shakes his head, "But if you got in the riders might think that others have been in and out, and if that's so the plague from our time could have spread to all of pern." He frowns deeply, not really worried but he wants the girl to think he is, the more people here on his side the better off he is. "Do we really want to be the cause of all that panic."

Tamera shakes her head slightly, thinking and worrying are second nature to her but this is a bit over her head.  "No...I don't want anyone to panic.  Maybe I just showed up at guard change or something...I sure don't know." she says softly.  A sigh escapes her as she realizes that Pern is a lot different from her tiny little mining camp, and a lot more difficult to live in.

C'radoc nods softly, "I would hate to make anyone panic either, especially since I'm pretty sure you're the only one who's gotten in or out...Besides  those other two but they were locked up in that bar to make sure they were okay.." he pauses, "Lets just say you'll have to pretend to be a drudge for now...or that you came as a visitor to the weyr the same night we came from between and so you were just over looked and made yourself at home." He nods, "That one sounds plausable...What do you think?"

Tamera nods slightly, a resigned look on her face.  "I think that second one would be better, you said yourself I didn't look like a drudge." she replies. "I guess that would cause the least trouble too.  And I didn't see anyone on the road to or from the Weyr when I was coming up here."

C'radoc nods and smiles, "I'm glad I ran into you before anyone else." He frowns deeply, "You would have been in a heap of trouble. But for now, at least until the quaratine is over we've got you covered." He chuckles and stands grabbing a couple of glasses and pouring some wine before sitting back down and picking his glass up, "To friends?" He smiles his teethy smile.

Tamera lifts the glass of wine and smiles slightly with a nod.  "To friends." she says softly, tipping her glass enough to touch his lightly.  After taking a sip of the wine she leans back in the chair once more, a thoughtful expression on her face.

A long sip of wine and a long smile passes his face, "Nothing better than a good wine, except for maybe a hard ale." A deep rumble of laughter comes from his stomache. "I dare say this is some of the best I've had in a long time."  He catches the thoughtful expression with a grin, "What are you thinking about?"

Tamera glances up at his laugh, a smile quirking her lips.  "I suppose it's good...I've actually never had wine before but this is very nice." she says.  "Oh, just hoping that folks won't be upset about me coming in and pretending to have been here a while.  That sort of thing.  It's sort of a habit....worrying, that is." She shrugs slightly before taking another sip of the wine.

C'radoc laughs softly and shakes his head, "No worries, you didn't know, and then when the quaratine is over you can go ahead and tell people because you're only lying to protect the weyr and Pern really." His eyes twinkly.

Tamera sighs and nods, relaxing again at his reassurance. "I suppose you're right." she says.  "Thank you, sir.  I do appreciate your help."  Now that her stomach has unclenched itself again she can finish the food that she gathered before, feeling much more relaxed and in control again.

C'radoc starts to say something but stops, finishing off his wine, "Care for some more?" He asks softly standing and moving across the room to the hearth. "And of course I'm right, don't think I would steer you in the wrong direction." A white shows once more as he lips spread in a smile, a lie, not really, but does have her in a position he can use her later if he needs too.

Tamera shakes her head at the offer of more wine and takes a long drink of klah instead. "No, thank you though. I'm not sure it'll set well just now." she replies. "I don't think you'd steer me wrong, sir." At least she hopes he wouldn't take advantage of her naiveness.

Pyrene stalks in from the Central Bowl.

Axle arrives from deeper in the Weyr.

Pyrene walks in looking distracted to say the least. She winces at the sight of C'radoc, and, for a moment, it looks as if she'll walk straight out again, but one of those ever-sycophantic drudges presses a tray of food on her, and she opts to take a seat after all. She nods to the other people in the cavern, but tries to arrange herself out of C'radoc's line of sight.

Muttering to himself as he has a habit of doing when he can't find anyone else particularly interesting to speak to, Axle comes wandering into the living caverns with his hands in his pockets and his shifting gaze on the alert for anyone who looks as if they might be easily persuaded out of a few of their hard-earned marks. Coming from the direction of the dorms, he looks as if he's merely passing through on his way out the door, but a glimps of Pyrene several feet away is enough to make him hesitate, a smirk already on his lips as he turns his head in her direction. Drawing up behind her, he leans in close over her shoulder, clicking his tongue sadly. "You've practically got them forcing meals upon you, now. I don't suppose you'd let me borrow your knot for a day, hm?"

C'radoc smiles gently at the girl, "Good because I wouldn't." He pours himself another glass, perhaps congradulating himself for his well layed plan. He goes to find his seat again, but finds that in the Weyrlady sitting in the room now. Big gulp. And then he makes his way over to her. "Weyrlady Pyrene, my regards to you and yours. I do hope that you will forgive me, you seem to be on a break but it seems that the weyr has missed a guest that arrived here. It seems in the confusion of Cloudburst returning from between, at the same moment dear Tamera was just arriving to our.../your/ weyr." A soft smile. "Weyrlady Pyrene, a new resident, at least until the quaratine is over, Tamera. Tamera your Weyrwoman Pyrene." He leave the details to the miner girl, she seems smart enough.

Tamera looks up at the unexpected introduction, eyes wide and somewhat frightened. "Well...well met, Weyrwoman." she says, standing slowly to give Pyrene a shaky curtsey. "I hope no one minds that I sorta just made myself at home....ma'am?" She's not sure exactly what she let C'radoc get her into at this point.

Pyrene jumps, dropping her fork. Fortunately, it's not stew she's got today, so the worst that happens is some greens slide off her plate, but that doesn't mitigate her irritation. "Light on our feet, aren't we?" she hisses at Axle. "I'm not in the mood for jokes." She's also not in the mood for Cloudburst, and she doesn't meet C'radoc's eye, instead focusing on Tamera. "A new resident? Did you not hear about the quarantine?" she asks, frustrated and weary more than anything.

Axle
Of average height and wiry construction, nothing particular seems to stand out about him from afar. His dark brown, somewhat greasy hair is cut fairly short - one or two inches from the skull - and though generally swept back, it usually doesn't remain that way for very long. Expressive brows hood over leering, clear blue eyes that glint with a sort of creepy intelligence, dominating his otherwise pale and angled features above his close cropped goatee. On the whole, he probably wouldn't be perceived as being overly charming or handsome.
Baggy and somewhat coarse, the once bright maroon hue of his longsleeved shirt has faded over the turns. The loose collar and sleeves suggest that it was once owned by somebody of wider girth, though his black trousers appear to have actually tailored for him - though the onyx sheen of his black boots makes them seem faded in comparison. Definitely not snug, they allow plenty of freedom for several pockets to be hidden within, though there aren't any tell-tale bulges to draw attention to that fact.
He is a young adult of about 22. He is awake and looks alert.

Axle actually laughs - although not too loudly, righting himself at C'radoc's approach. His eyes narrowed slightly, he looks from Tamera to C'radoc as he flashes a forced, wolfish smile at the two of them. Then, glancing back to Pyrene to gage her reaction to the pair, he knits his brows, pulling his head subtly in the direction of the fallen greens. "I don't suppose the five second rule applies for Weyrwomen, eh?"

C'radoc smiles softly, "As I just told you weyr woman, she came the same night that we showed up, so the quarantine wasn't in place. You see, in the confusion she deemed it best to leave the rankers here to the more important task at hand, that being us Cloudburst." He flashes a smile at the weyrwoman. "No harm done, but now that stuff is calming down she thought maybe she should tell someone, that being me, but seeing as my wing isn't in leadership here. That would be you and now M'nty, I decided that you would be the one to tell."

Tamera blushes pinkly as Pyrene focuses on her and shrugs slightly. "No, ma'am, I hadn't heard anything about a quarantine till after I'd already gotten here." she says softly, at least that part wasn't a lie. "I didn't mean to make trouble, ma'am." She tries to keep her gaze steady on the Weyrwoman's but has trouble because she's nervous, frightened and finds herself nodding at C'radoc's clarification as though she couldn't get it out herself.

Pyrene shakes her head in confusion. "Alright, alright. What's your name again?" she considers Tamera. "And who are you anyway?" She ignores Axle, and the fallen greens. She's not too fond of them anyway.

"Important." Axle repeats icily, the smallest trace of irritated sarcasm twisting through the word as he looks coldly back to C'radoc. "Why is it that you're here again, sir? Being a lowely scoundrel myself, I've only heard various rumors, but as far as I can tell, you're making a bit of a parasite of yourselves. I mean, if a flock of dragons and their riders from ages ago popped into my home, they'd be sleeping in the barn, if not in the yard."

C'radoc takes not hesitation and turning on Axle, a sneer covers his face, "Look here," he growls at Axle, "We came here from High Reaches to save high reaches, and whether or not the logisitics were flawed, I had to follow my weyrleader," His eyes narrow further, and his fist clenches pulling back but controlled, for now. "And I would like to see you survive thread without a weyr or the dragons and their riders who live there, so I suggest you provide the proper respect to dragonriders and especially your weyrwoman whom you haven't even formally addressed yet."

Tamera sighs softly at the way C'radoc seems to have distracted Pyrene enough to give her a moment's respite. "T-Tamera, ma'am. I'm nobody important. I came down here from a mining camp up in the high mountains...." she says, trailing off when words run out. She glances at Axle warily, not knowing just what or who he is just that he makes her nervous and he doesn't know why there is such hostility toward C'radoc when he was just trying to help her figure out what she was doing in High Reaches Weyr.

Tye prowls with caution in from the Central Bowl.

"Handily, we're used to unwanted guests," Pyrene observes, slightly cattily. "Well, you're here now, so don't worry about it. As long as you're making yourself useful? Helping out? Which is more than many here seem to be able to do." She glares at Axle rather than C'radoc. "Cloudburst, like every other dragon here, is prepared to fly Fall. When you grow wings and are capable of breathing fire, then perhaps, you may consider insulting riders in such a fashion."

Axle smiles right back in the face of C'radoc's sneer, apparently pleased to have ruffled his feathers so quickly. Rather than speak immediately, however, he looks over his right shoulder, then his left, his brows pulling into an expression of puzzled curiousity. "Well, I can tell you, you're doing a bang-up job of saving us...from...ah...What was it you were saving us from again? Current fashion? Come back to resuscitate High Reaches from the horror of ugly trousers with the style of turns gone past, have you?" His cold smile returning, he shrugs a shoulder somewhat carelessly. "I wasn't making a complaint against the Weyr in its entirety, just you and your mates." Finally, to Pyrene, he shrugs once more. "I'm not insulting anyone, just pointing out the facts as I see them. My my, had I known that you people would take up arms so quickly I might have relegated myself to warmer climes."

C'radoc glares fully at Axle, "You arrarogant fool. Do as your weyrwoman tells you. Next time there is a fall I suggest they leave you out to burn." He voice dropping and coming out like a growl, almost taking on a dragonic tone, "As for what we were saving you from, was a plague in which high reaches lost many a good rider, and their dragons, and friends of mine." Anger risen to a level that will no longer allow his hand to be controlled, he lets his fist fly, and straight at the other males nose. "Do not disrespect riders." He states, very quietly.

Tye only takes one step into the caverns, before she starts having second thoughts on coming down from the safety of her weyr. A quick overlook of the room has the bluerider's face contorting into a bit of a wince.. Not only is her /favorite/ resident here, but the Weyrwoman and a Cloudburst 'rider as well. Gee, what luck! Tye clears her throat and makes her way over to the Tsunami table, but not without grabbing a mug of klah and a plate of food as well.

Tamera winces at the 'unwanted guest' comment but doesn't respond in any fashion, she's used to being unwanted after all. "I'm doing my best, ma'am, lending a hand to whatever I can." she says softly, eyeing the two men and edging away from what looks to be a bout of fisticuffs in the near future. If she could hide in a corner right now, that's where she'd be instead of in the middle of whatever argument is going on around her.

Axle had just opened his mouth to say something smart, his expression about as coy as it could be, when...Crack! Suddenly he's seeing various-colored floaters instead of angry dragonriders, and there's a splitting pain coming from the middle of his face - probably because his nose has been split open. Taken by surprise, he staggers back, trying to get his bearings even as his right hand snaps down to flick his short, curved knife off his belt.

In the form of deep rumble of a dragon, angered by the rising anger of his rider, enters like a storm from the bowl. Umiheth makes his presence known, and that he will not stand for someone hurting his rider.

"You will /not/ speak--" Pyrene begins to snap at Axle, before flinching as C'radoc throws his punch. "That's enough!" she shrills, leaping to her feet and leaping between them. She's seen the knife alright, although she deliberately turns her back on it and addresses the bronzerider first. "C'radoc, in the past 26 turns we've learned to use words to settle arguments rather than fists." Then she turns on Axle. "And you can count yourself lucky that there's a quarantine on. You draw a knife on a rider, and you leave this Weyr."

C'radoc takes a sudden step back and nods, "Sorry Weyrwoman, I'm afraid that the strain of the quarantine and being away from my own time has me a little out of my sorts." He says, as if he hasn't punced someone out of anger before, but people of this time don't know that. However, bleeding knuckles nursed gently, his glare lingers towards Axel.

Tamera stumbles backwards till she fetches up against a table and is unable to retreat more from the fight. Her eyes dart at the two men and the Weyrwoman separating them, wishing that somehow she had never come to High Reaches or that she could somehow get away now that she was here.

"What in the name of Faranth is going on here?" Tye exclaims, leaping from her seat to watch as Axle gets hit. Leaving her table and rushing over to where Pyrene is, the bluerider's eyes widen as a knife is added in. "Oh, come now, Pyrene." She says, ascalmly as possible. "From the looks of it, it was that Cloudburst's rider's fault in the first place. Don't place all the blame on Axle." And who ever said Tye didn't like the guy? "He went to far hitting Axle like that." Though that is all her opinion, of course.

Axle blinks hard, the cut across the bridge of his nose bleeding as that sort've head injury tends to. Sneering past Pyrene at C'radoc, his teeth pinkish from the blood making its way into the corners of his mouth, he makes no move to attack, merely holding the knife out to make sure that he doesn't get hit in the face again while he's still dazed. His eyes darting somewhat blearily between Pyrene and Tye, he flicks the stout blade back onto his belt and lifts his hand to feel his busted nose gingerly.

"If I wanted your opinion, bluerider, I would have asked for it," Pyrene replies scathingly. "As it is, Axle, I can't turn you out, so I suppose I shall have to give you a lesson in the importance of restraining violent tendencies in a weyr. I want you to explain to Umiheth what you did and apologise. C'radoc, I presume Umiheth is in the bowl?"

C'radoc has his eyes lowered to the floor and his eyes unfocus for just a second before he answers the weyrwoman's question, with a nod he doesn't risk a smile though, "Yes Weyrwoman, he is indeed in the bowl, though rather irritated at having been awakened from a nap. I shall let him know that Axle is on his way." A hidden look is shot to Tye, even he is up to date enough to know Pyrene has a thing against blueriders.

C'radoc exchanges the protection of stone for the bowl outside.

"You've got to be bloody joking!" Axle managed to protest finally, his expression one of easily recognizable disbelief. "He should be the one apologizing to me, for Faranth's sake! I didn't touch him. A man should be allowed to make an attempt to defend himself...What happens if a dragonrider pulls a knife on a resident, hm? Do you kick 'em out, or keep them around anyway, even if there's the lingering threat that they might knife as many people as they save?" He makes no move what-so-ever to follow her direction.

Tamera sighs softly as the tension abruptly subsides and sinks into a chair, eyes still wary as she watches the riders arguing. She doesn't notice C'radoc leave, she's too relieved to have stayed out of the way this time and not tripped anyone up or caused more harm.

"Oh, no need to bother yourself with asking for my opinion, Weyrwoman. My opinion comes whether it is wanted for or not." Eyelashes are fluttered at Pyrene, Tye putting on a facade of innocence. "Are you alright, Axle?" She asks, tilting her head and leaning towards the man. Spotting movement, the bluerider jerks her head just in time to watch C'radoc walk out. "Oh yes, apologize to the dragon. I'm sure that'll make /everything/ better." Tye mutters under her breath, rolling her eyes and plopping down in a seat.

Pyrene simply waves Axle out. "Go on. But don't make the mistake of thinking that this is the end of it, for either you or C'radoc. Tamera, why don't you come along too? Learn about life in the WEyr."  Tye is ignored.

Bundle up 'gainst snow or sun! The bowl is open to seasons' wrath.
Central Bowl
Seven spindles brush the clouds overhead, displaying a jagged, spired cotillion grey-stoned majesty. The bowl from here is expansively large, extending a full half-mile in both directions, and though a bit of a stretch at times, 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 within the middle of the otherwise vast emptiness.
The hatching grounds and leadership weyrs are located to the north, while the sounds of herdbeasts noisily allude to the pens slightly east of there. Constant traffic marks the entrance to the westward living caverns, and a glance southeast reveals the cold, glittering, glacial lake.
It is a winter noon. Clouds have rolled in from the north, covering the sky and blocking out whatever warmth the sun might have given. The air is cold and still.

Axle steps out from the Weyr's living caverns.

Kynance> Tamera blinks in surprise and nods, following the Weyrwoman in a fog.

Tamera steps out from the Weyr's living caverns.

"I'll be fine...I've been hit before." Axle replies grouchily to Tye, wiping blood from his mouth with the back of his hand and merely smearing it in the process. Determined to stay right where he is, he finally follows in irritation alone, his teeth clenched and bared as he jogs after everyone else. He'll give 'em an apology all right.

Umiheth eyes are whirling an angry red, but as the parade enters he lowers his head in a bow to the weyrwoman.

Tamera blinks rapidly to adjust her eyes to the change in light as she follows the Weyrwoman in a bit of a fog. She doesn't know why Pyrene wanted her to come but she's not going to disobey by not doing as asked. She's also not sure just what Axle is apologizing for, but that's not her place to comment. She'll just watch and 'learn more about weyr life' as she was told.

Pyrene takes up a position next to Tamera, arms folded and eyes narrow. She's clearly waiting.

"All right, Umiheth." Clapping his hands together, his teeth still bared and his eyes flashing, Axle glares up at the dragon. "I'm terribly sorry that you managed to impress yourself to an arrogant, unrestrained buffoon. If I had some means of helping you out, I would, but I'm afraid at the most I can only offer my condolences."

Umiheth lowers his head to level with the likewise arrogant resident and opening his mouth before him, and roars loudly and angrily, eyes whirling violently a deep blood red. C'radoc, standing near to his lifemate is visibly shaken with the force of air coming from the roar.

Pyrene rolls her eyes. "Axle, I believe I asked you to tell Umiheth what happened. C'radoc, why don't you also explain to Umiheth what you did to provoke Axle. And Axle, do note how very attached Umiheth is to C'radoc."

Axle's temerity startles Tamera into a nearly hysterical giggle before she can strangle it down once more. He's sure got some guts to sass a dragon, in her opinion. The dragon on the other hand must not think it funny though, her hands clap against her ears at the bronze's roar as she glances sideways at Pyrene, an apology clear on her face.

C'radoc recovered from the roar Umiheth relents and turns to his dragon eyes unfocusing with a nod to his dragon, "I suppose Umiheth is right, I should say it out loud. This one here..." He points to Axle, "Was mocking riders namely me, but also the rest of the wing, and not treating Weyrwoman Pyrene with the due respect that befits a woman of her ranking, and with a loss of personal control I punched him."

Axle does note how very attached they are from his position on the ground, flat on his back, with blood still oozing out of his cut. His nostrils full of dragonbreath, he coughs hackingly as he rolls over and gets shakily to his feet, still defiant. Unfortunately, Axle hasn't ever heard anything about a dragon even attempting to eat someone. "On the alternate side..." His voice hoarse, he cleares it and runs his tongue over his teeth before continuing, "I was simply pointing out my opinion on the matter, and your well-mannered companion decided that punching me in the face would change my mind. Unable to see what was happening immediately, and not particularly comfortable with the idea of a second knock-out punch, I pulled my knife, and the situation was temporarily paused by our lovely Werywoman."

Pyrene chips in quietly with C'radoc: "Also forgetting that it was my insult and therefore my place to discipline Axle as I saw fit." Sadly, the Weyr was denied the chance to see Pyrene's right hook. "Anyway Axle, as you see, Umiheth is indeed greatly attached to his rider. You threaten the rider; you threaten the dragon. If you can remember that, then perhaps we may keep you on here after all. Now shake hands and make up." Patronising yes, but at least she didn't ask them to kiss.

Tamera has lowered her hands in time to hear what is said and nods slightly to herself, not something one should forget no matter who the object of the lesson happens to be. Not that she thinks things will be better between the two men, at least form has been observed and hopefully this won't happen again.

Londers steps out from the Weyr's living caverns.

Londers
Londers is a tall, well-built boy, with deep green eyes set in a square face but with lean jaws, and thick, fair hair which falls to his shoulders. Although he's quite tall, you can see with his hands and feet that he'll be taller in some years. He's wearing a grey shirt with a little white dragon near the shoulder and black pants which look a bit worn-out on the knees.
He is a teenager of about 15. He is awake and looks alert.

Londers waves as he comes in. "Hello" was all he said. He seems a little shy with all the people there.

C'radoc bows softly to Pyrene, "Yes, Weyrwoman I understand, I suppose I am a little over protective of what I feel should be held in higher reguard than Axle gives to you. And all riders in general. Perhaps one day he will understand what being a raker means." He extends a hand toward Axle.

Pyrene nods to C'radoc. Her eyes drift briefly to Londers, acknowledging his greeting, but she's not finished yet. "Axle, just to make quite sure you appreciate what you've learned today, I want you to spend the next two sevendays looking out for Umiheth's welfare. You may be his personal hygienist. C'radoc, please show him what needs doing, and don't forget that I'll be talking to Adel and R'meld about /your/ behaviour today." That said, she suddenly ignores the pair altogether, instead turning to Tamera and Londers. "I hope you took that in as well." Never mind the fact that Londers missed most of it.

Tamera nods to Pyrene, finally calm and subdued. "Yes, ma'am. Valuable for those of us who haven't had the occasion to be in contact with dragons." she says softly. "I won't forget it, ma'am...."

Londers stares confused at Pyrene as he doesn't understand what she's talking about.

C'radoc nods to Pyrene swiftly, "Yes Weyrwoman, my apologies again." He turns to Axle, "I'll give you the ropes tomorrow, Axle." He says with a sneer hidden as a smile, "I'll see you here in the bowl earlier ealier, he likes his baths before the sun rises." He bows to Tamera, "A pleasure to meet you, I hope you aren't too put off by us." A respectful one to Tye and Pyrene.

C'radoc clambers up Umiheth's neck and settles in between two neckridges.
Umiheth continues, heading north.

Pyrene shivers. "OK, it's too cold to stand around learning lessons all day. And I never finished my lunch. It's a lesson in the attachment between dragons and riders, young mans. I'm sure you can find somebody willing to demonstrate if you ask." And with that, she ducks back into the caverns.

You go to the Living Caverns.

Living Caverns

Tamera walks in from the Central Bowl.
Londers walks in from the Central Bowl.

Tamera slips back into the caverns after Pyrene to finish her own meal, having to return to the food table to warm her klah and maybe snag a little more bread and cheese and maybe something sweet to end with. Returning to the chair she was occupying before doesn't really seem a good idea since it's at a rider's table she looks for one at an unoccupied table.

Londers heads straight toward the meal table and takes which he load quite heavily with quite a lot of things. He comes over to Pyrene's table. "Can I join you?" he asks coyly?

Pyrene glances at him. "I warn you, I'm not good company," she tells him. The meal she left has been replaced with a warm one by a drudge. It's probably a good thing Axle isn't here to see it. "Tamera, you can sit here too. Don't stand on formality."

Londers sits down quietly and begins to eat what's on his tray without a word to avoid to disturb Pyrene.

Tamera offers a shy smile to Pyrene as she takes a chair to settle into. "Thank you, Weyrwoman." she says, nibbling at her food. Not entirely sure what else to do she just eats, curious glances shot to Pyrene, Londers and everything else in the caverns.

Pyrene rolls her eyes. If she's bad company, these two are worse conversationalists. "Sorry, what's your name, lad?" she asks Londers, by way of making an effort.

Londers raises his eyes. "me?" he asks blushing "I'm Londers, new resident here. Well met..." he stops, waiting for the woman to introduce herself.

Tamera finally shakes off the last of the fright that keeps her silent, smiling slightly at the young man's introduction of himself. "I'm Tamera, Londers. Well met." she murmurs to him. A slight frown creases her brow as she considers something but she doesn't let her curiosity get the better of her just yet.

"Pyrene, Weyrwoman," she supplies, possibly considering much the same thing as Tamera. "So how did you break past the quarantine limits, or are you not as new as all that?" she enquires placidly enough.

Londers hmmms. "Well, I got saved by a wing during the last Fall." as he heard Pyrene saying she's the Weyrwoman, he stands up quickly and bows formaly. "It's a pleasure to meet you Weyrwoman" he says formally

Tamera gasps softly at Londers' admission, wondering what the Weyrwoman will say about that news. "What were you doing out in Fall?" she asks hesitantly, even she knew enough to find cover when Thread was due when she was travelling.

Since he at least knows his manners, Pyrene suppresses the groan of despair at non-Weyrfolk managing to get themselves stuck out in Fall. Instead she swallows her roast wherry and murmurs "Thank-you." First impression duly made, and poor Londers is filed under the 'nice but dumb' category. "Where are you from then?"

Nyhia slinks into the living caverns and looks at the small group there and hops over to them. "Hiya!" she says happily in greeting, her flit chirping a greeting as well.

Londers hmmms. "I am from a little cothold near High Reaches Hold and I came out to seek some wherry to hunt and I got caught by a Fall outside." he admits, blushing.

"We do send out timetables of Falls to all the holds, you know," Pyrene admonishes him, but her heart's not in it. "Ah well. You've had a lucky escape, and I hope you enjoy your stay here. Afternoon, Nyhia," she greets the other woman.

Michel stumps down the stairs from the Crafter's area clutching some hides under his arm. Heading for the hearth, a mug of klah is poured before the Master Baker looks for a seat. Nodding politely to Pyrene he heads in that direction, sensible conversation is a real possibility if he sits near the Weyrwoman. At least it's better than listening to the prattle of his latest batch of apprentices.

Axle walks in from the Central Bowl.

Londers hmms again, taking a sip of his klah. "I enjoyed my stay pretty well so far" he says cheerfully. "Though I would like to have something to keep me busy" he says sighing.

Nyhia smiles at Pyrene, "Good afternoon Weyrwoman." she says happily, "How are you today?" she inquires merrily. Obviously cheerful, must be a reason for that...

Pyrene nods in the direction of Axle. "If you're looking to be busy, Londers, I'm sure Axle over there can advise you on how to get work. Alternatively, the drudges and cooks are always glad of an extra hand with the washing and tuber-peeling to help make such fine meals. My compliments to the chef." With the last sentence, she inclines her head towards Michel, but her expression turns dour at Nyhia's cheer. "I could be better," she responds flatly.

Axle strides in from the dorms, his hair still damp, and a towel around his neck. A white bandage over the bridge of his nose covers a few fresh stitches, and from his general expression and posture, anyone who crosses him is likely to get chewed into pieces.

Michel chuckles at Pyrene's compliment and nods his head slightly. "My pleasure, Pyrene. You know it's what I enjoy best." he teases. "I just hope it doesn't take a turn for the worse, those apprentices that arrived just before the quarantine started just aren't working out and no chance of getting replacements in till you folks say it's okay." He settles into a chair, hides thumping onto the tabletop as he takes a long draft of the steaming hot klah. "I can always use a few extra hands in the kitchens, anyone needs something to do just send them to me." This rejoinder is accompanied by a raised eyebrow toward the younglings.

Pyrene glances up at Axle. "Calmed down now, have we? I should have confiscated that knife of yours, but I assume I won't be saying it again to be reminded." To Michel she simply shrugs. "The cookies are still good, so I doubt we'll be seeing a revolt yet."
Michel grins at Pyrene and nods. "That's about the only thing they do right, thankfully Damia's apprentices and the Journeymen are taking up the slack." he says. "Calmed down? Knife? Sounds like I missed something interesting." A glance at Axle earns him a wince of sympathy for the nose, that must have hurt.

Londers smiles and nods to Michel. "you are the Master Baker" he asks inqiring as he eats the bread.

Axle flops down near Pyrene, looking wary, irritable, and even a little ruffled as he looks sharply at the woman. "If I yell and stomp around and go about punching people in the face, I run the risk of busting a stitch or two, /Weyrwoman/."

Pyrene looks tired, but people sniping typically refreshes her. "Well, I'm sure you and C'radoc will be good friends after your two sevendays service," she notes, quickly finishing her meal. "Axle drew a knife on C'radoc, Michel. He's now learning the importance of our dragons' welfare." C'radoc's welfare, on the other hand, isn't particularly important, and that reminds her of something. "But I'll leave you now. I need to find R'meld or Adel. Good day." All correctness, she rises and glides out.

Michel nods to Londers. "One of two High Reaches boasts, youngling." he says. A raised eyebrow goes to Axle, hmmm, guess there was something he missed after all. "Ahhh, I see. Take care, Pyrene. Shall I have a basket sent up for your supper?" is offered as the weyrwoman leaves, late again.

Axle glares darkly after Pyrene, muttering a name for here that's probably far from appropriate under his breath as he turns his attention on Michel. Brooding, he merely eyes him and the others for a moment, just waiting for any of them to say something.

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