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 on Monday 12 January 2004 for the benefit of members unable to attend. Logged by Pyrene.
Mind your own Business!
Beach
Ancient dunes have been flattened by the endless parade of people and dragons
that tramp northwest across the bowl, leaving a mere skiff of sand here along
lake's beaten edge. Footprints litter the curve of beach, some left turns ago
and caught frozen in the heavy clay earth near the water's edge. As the sun
sets, shadows invade, creeping like fingers across the gently sloping ground and
darkening the distant ledges on the far side of the lake.
To the north, dust rises from the redolent pens while the flattened disc of the
main bowl is just a step to the northwest.
It is a winter midmorning. Sunlight spills out all white across the sky,
lighting the high clouds with its cold rays. There is little warmth, although no
wind stirs the air. Snow from past storms blankets the land.
Bannyth clatters down from above.
R'meld slides from Bannyth's neck and lands gently on the ground.
Cadgwith is in the lake, snug up against a sheet of ice, into which Pyrene is digging the heels of her skates as she scrubs the great dragon. The gold's eyes whirl green in welcome at Bannyth, although there's a faint tinge of yellow worry to them. She's not entirely sure of her reception, and accordingly, she doesn't immediately alert Pyrene to the arrivals.
"There, you get your wish, go wash. But do be quick about it." R'meld says to his bronze companion, nimble fingers quickly undoing the flying straps and letting them fall to the ground. Bannyth, who is more perceptive then his rider, turns his head and rumbles a greeting to the gold dragon before making to his way into the icy water. The Weyrleader simply stands on the beach, arms crossed while his eyes stay only on Bannyth and not even regarding the fact that Cadgwith is in the water as well.
Pyrene hears the unmistakeable noises of another dragon entering the water, and ducks around her dragon to see who it is that Cadgwith didn't tell her. Once she has done so, she wishes she hadn't. Still, it would be rude of her to offer no greeting now. "Good day, R'meld," she calls over, as usual avoiding all titles.
R'meld jerks his head up, eyes zipping this way and that trying to find the owner of the voice. Slowly, they fall on Pyrene and said eyes narrow just a tad. The Weyrleader was still quite annoyed with what happened during the flight, regardless how many days ago that was. "Yes. Good day to you as well, Weyrwoman Pyrene." He fidgets in place, mentally willing Bannyth to hurry and finish soaking already. Confrontations were never something he excelled at. "Err... how are you this morning?"
Pyrene was always very good at confrontations. But also good at avoiding them and/or picking and choosing. "I'm fine, thank-you." Normally there'd be some comment on the health of their dragons here, but she chooses to avoid that topic, instead presenting a different one: "I wanted to have a word with you about C'radoc, if I may," she begins, leaning against Cadge, perhaps as much for the moral as the physical support.
"That's good." He grumbles out, pursing his lips and nodding his head at the Weyrwoman. R'meld stays quiet for a moment, then looks back at Pyrene, arching an eyebrow in question. "C'radoc?" He pauses, confused. "Why would you want to talk to me about him." The Weyrleader frowns, tapping his fingers on the sides of his arm. "Did something happen to him, as well? Something no one informed me of? Surely, he is alive, since the dragons would announce to us if another of mine had died."
"No, no," Pyrene hastens, desperately pushing the conversation /off/ that track. "No, he had an altercation with one of our weyr residents the other day and ended up punching him. I didn't know if you'd heard, since the resident in question was actually fool enough to pull a knife on C'radoc. I, of course, put a halt to it straightaway." She talks fast, laying it all out on the table so she can't be accused of hiding anything.
R'meld widens his eyes, looking rather surprised. "He... punched one of the residents? No one informed me of this. None of my riders even hinted at such a thing happening." He scowls, jutting out his lower lip in a pouting/irritated manner. "And the resident pulled a knife out? On a /dragonerider/?" R'meld shakes his head in wonderment. Was there no respect at all at this Weyr? "Well," He huffes, "why did C'radoc feel the need to punch this resident in the first place? He is normally not so agressive, unless there is due reason."
Pyrene shrugs. "This resident is relatively new at High Reaches and has not endeared himself to many I must say. He seems to have very little respect for riders." She refrains from specifying that it was Cloudburst riders Axle had little respect for. "C'radoc seemed to think that the best way of teaching him respect was to punch him. The resident reacted impulsively and brought out his knife. If it weren't for the quarantine, I'd have booted him out of the Weyr and counted it as no loss, as it was, I've assigned him to help C'radoc care for Umiheth for the next few sevendays. However, I do feel that C'radoc should take some of the blame as well. Of course," she turns demure all of a sudden, "It's not my place to discipline him."
"Ah, so the resident was the one who started it. I see." R'meld nods, moving one hand up to tap his chin. "I'm glad to hear that the resident was properly punished as he was. I'm sure C'radoc and Umiheth will enjoy and take advantage of the extra help." His face finally breaks into his normal grin, the man oddly proud of his wingrider, though he wouldn't let that on. "Yes, well, I will make sure to punish C'radoc accordingly. The quarantine has been hard on him, on all of us, and I think being grounded for a couple sevendays will make him learn his lesson. There are other ways, less violent, to teach a resident a little bit os respect. Perhaps I can also twist the punishment and have C'radoc aid his attackee in whatever his job might be." Yes. R'meld did like the sound of that. And to think! He came up with it all on his own.
Pyrene is duly proud. "C'radoc was the one to bring violence into it," she notes quietly, unable to help defending somebody from her own time, however undeserving she privately considers them. "He also, as I recall, started the violence in Cadgwith's flight. I hope we won't see a repeat of it?" Her eyes are turning steely, since R'meld seems rather casual about the punishment. Of course, R'meld seems casual about many things. "It's not really the reputation we like our riders to have."
R'meld snorts softly, "Surely, you can't put /all/ the blame from the blasted outcome of that flight on my riders." He raises an eyebrow again, peering at Pyrene. "Emotions were heightened, as they normally are in a flight." The Weyrleader explains, as if he is talking to a child. "None of us had any true control over what exactly was happening. It was your males that issued a challange, Umiheth and Bannyth had no choice but to answer it." Or at least that is how he saw it. "It was also your dragons that harmed mine! Bannyth will have those scars for life." And he truely blames the High Reaches 'riders of this time for that. "C'radoc was only acting in what he believed in. I will speak to him, punish him, but he had every right to react the way he did. Possibly not as violently, but he had the right, all the same."
Pyrene glares at him. "It seems to me that the riders of your time are ruled too much by emotion. I don't know what you consider normal behaviour for a flight, but I've never seen a flight that violent in nearly 25 turns at the Weyr!" She pushes away from Cadgwith and glides over to him, fuming. "I am not condoning the behaviour of Axle, the resident in question." Heck, she'll even name names. "But it seems to me that while I'm willing to accept fault on my part, you're considering that C'radoc acted out of nothing more than high spirits!" She bites off her words visibly. There's an awful lot more she could say.
"Emotion is what keeps the riders of /my/ time on their toes! No, that was not exactly normal behavior for a flight, but all the blame is not to be put on my 'riders. Yours were there as well, if you recall, and acted in the same blasted manner!" R'meld is almost yelling as he squares his shoulders and glares down at the Weyrwoman. "I said C'radoc was in the wrong, did I not? I said he would be punished, and he shall. He will learn his lesson, because that is how my wingriders are! I can't say much for your resident though, for he will most likely be snarking off to the next dragonrider he sees. Now, /Pyrene/," He sneers out, dropping her title. "I would ask you to not talk against the way I chose to oversee /my/ riders. They are only mine, and Adel's, concern. Got it?"
Pyrene tenses, her lips pursing so tight they're invisible against her white face. "They are the /Weyr's/ concern, R'meld. You and Adel cannot be your own little Weyr within a Weyr forever!" she hisses, but she calms down as Cadgwith starts puffing in agitation.
R'meld clenches his teeth, his hands following suit, though staying at his side at all times. "What choice have you given us? None of you recognize myself as Weyrleader or Adel as Weyrwoman. We are not given the respect we both deserve!" He tosses his arms up, frustrated beyond belief.
From the water, Bannyth growls lowly, echoing his 'rider's anger and irritation. Eyes whirling fast and speckled with red and orange.
Pyrene lifts her nose, giving his woes short shrift. "Just remember, R'meld, it was you who brought this problem to us. Ask yourself what you would have done in our situation before you bawl about the results of your own actions." And suddenly she clunks off, not even bothering to remove her skates. A rush of water, and Cadgwith follows her rider.
