Ilare - Thursday, December 21, 2000, 10:04 AM --------------------------------------------- Weyrling Barracks The large covered entryways open into two immense U-shaped caverns that stretch back deep into the rock of the cliffside. Glow baskets lining the cavern walls cast a soft light dispelling the shadows and illuminating the home of all High Reaches weyrlings. Stone couches, some smaller for the greens and blues and some, for bronzes and the occasional gold, so large they have to be climbed into, rise up to loom over the walkways of well-packed dirt. Along the walls nearest the entrances, shelves and pegs sport several sets of leathers and various books and tools needed when teaching and practicing; crates and supplies also take up residence in various nooks and crannies. Toward the back, a large, man-dug pool for use by the dragonets and their lifemates and several large containers kept full of fresh meat serve as conveniences for the busy residents of these barracks. To the southwest, you see Zaqith, Kelitath, Nylanth, Catiminith, Vespurath, Zizth, and one person. Snuggled in with the leather supplies and tools are eleven firelizards. Green Miravith and blue Mzadith are here. You see Weyrling Progress Record and Dragon Wing here. Cayl is here. Obvious exits: Staff Office Bowl Couches Bay> Ilare arises from the couch and vanishes out into the barracks. Bay> Chanticoth arises from the couch and vanishes out into the barracks. Chanticoth clambers out of Chanticoth's couch. Cayl silently, suavely, glides to the Bowl. You go to the Training Grounds. Training Grounds The marks of thousands of claws give testament to the shuffling of the young dragons that have torn up what little grass once grew in this corner of the bowl. Tucked in between the feeding pens to the south and the curve of the Weyrleader's complex, the training grounds are home to daily exercises and classes, all taking place well out of the way of the hectic bustle of the rest of the bowl. Cut deep into the cliff face, the large, covered openings leading into the extensive weyrling barracks rise high over the heads of any who come near, although the height of the caldera's spindles far above cast their own reaching shadows across the hard packed earth. It is an autumn before dawn. The clouds above begin to clear out as a northerly breeze rolls in. Stars peek through the gaps in the clouds. Soaring high overhead are Satyr, Shugogetten, and Harme. Green Zaqith, green Kelitath, bronze Nylanth, blue Catiminith, green Vespurath, green Zizth, brown Chanticoth, and blue Mzadith are here. Slippa and Cayl are here. Obvious exits: Weyrling Barracks Northern Bowl Corrals Mzadith trip, skip, lumbers ackwardly in from the Weyrling Barracks. Ilare stretches her arms up high over her head as she emerges from the barracks, a yawn escaping her lips. It's dark and cold out, but exercises must be done. "C'mon, Chanticoth. Lets practice those wing stretches you need to do." Chanticoth follows Ilare out of the barracks, only a few steps behind her, padding along the ground quietly. But it's so cold... It's /cold/, and he wanted to be oiled -now-? Outside?! What was so wonderous about the rising sun, especially when it wasn't even up yet? Glancing up towards the slowly clearing clouds, she shivers as another breeze blows past her uniform, frizzing her unkept hair and pickling her pale skin. snuggling closer to the bulk that is Mzadith, Cayl takes another handful of oil and begins to rub it into a particularly stubborn stubborn patch. "C..c...c...c..ol." She doesn't finish this statement as she hears Ilare's voice. Peering up and over the vibrant bluey hide, she gives a shivering wave towards the woman. "M..orning. At least I ththink." It was dark and cold, that's all she truely knew. But Mzadith was nice and warm. Only he was oily and that would make her all ewy if she leaned against him. "Oh, and morn Chanticoth. How ddo you both fffair?" Ilare looks sympathetically at Cayl, and with a quiet word to Chanticoth, vanishes quick into the barracks. Barely a second later, she's back. Carrying.. a jacket? Ah.. "Put this on, silly. Or you'll freeze. And then what would Mzadith do?" A bright grin is given, before she shrugs. "I'm good. We're practicing some exercises... And yes, it's a bit chilly, but you'll warm up as you stretch." That's clearly directed at Chanticoth. With affection. Chanticoth blinks slowly, looking at Cayl's jacket, before snuggling a little closer to Ilare. He doesn't get a jacket? And it would look so good on him. Let's do this later... Zizth bounds out from the Barracks into the Grounds, Slippa trailing after her, wrapped in what seems to be a blanket. Wait - no, not a blanket, but a very odd looking coat. "Zizth!" She yelps, once out in the cold. "C-c-come back!" Her hair's sopping wet, causing her to shiver, teeth to chatter. "Oh, heck." She mutters, shrugging at Cayl and Ilare. "I leave her for two seconds, and she says she'd rather be out here. I just jumped out of the bath!" Ilare strokes the head currently burrowing into her coat. "No, I don't think the weavers can make a dragon sized jacket.. besides, you'd outgrow it before the week was up!" Slippa is given an amused wink, and a head shake. What is it with her fellow weyrlings? Hellloo? Warm clothes are a MUST in 'Reaches! "Morning Zizith, Slippa." A hand gestures to Chanticoth to move over there - yes, right there - so they've space to stretch. Mzadith's eyes watch Ilare curiously as she disappears and returns with a jacket. He rumbles softly, though weither in approval or just curiousity is unknown. His blueling takes the blanket, but blinks. "Now how am I supposed to fit /this/ on? For one thing, its too small! For another, I'm already wearing two, and I don't think three'll fit." She shakes her head before catching sight of Zizth bounding out of the barracks. Scary thought. "Yes dear, I agree." She comments, eyes slightly unfocused. However, she's far more amused at the sight of "Slippa! Morn..I think. Mzadith did the /same/ thing to me yesturday. Brings new meaning to cold. Here, use this." She tosses the jacket towards her clutchmate with a throw that would make a 'sack tosser proud. Slippa finally pursuades Zizth to come back, after engaging in a battle of wills and physically grabbing ahold of the dragonet's tail. "Morning!" She calls out cheerily, walking back with her arm rested over Zizth's neck. "Now, Zizth, you've /got/ to stop running away that this! No, I don't care! You're to do as you're told. Right?" For all she's telling the green off, she scritches her neckridges. "How's you all?" She says with a bright grin, settling down to watch while Zizth starts to stretch wings. "I need to go get something else on... I'll be right back..." And with that, she ducks back into the barracks, leaving the apple-tinted dragonet to stretch a bit. Chanticoth grumbles quietly at having to move. It would be so much nicer to go back inside, in the lovely warm, but he can't refuse Ilare. He shuffles over to the specified spot. Maybe this will be done quickly and he can go back inside. Ilare rolls her eyes; If anything, Cayl's gotten more contrary since she Impressed. Ah well, what else should she expect. Chuckling at her brown, she simply winks at Zizith when Slippa vanishes inside. "Okay, Chanti, remember - start the wing stretches slow. Just like R'sli and the assistant weyrling masters showed us." She mentally projects the image of the exercise she's talking bout, going through it step-by-step. Mzadith is both ice and fire, hot and cold. So it stands to reason that -even though everyone else is freezing to death in this place- he would complain about: "It most certainly is /not/ hot! How could you think such a foolish thing. *Pause* Yes, your shadow will come back when the sun rises." Sigh. Poor Cayl. Watching as Slippa disappears back into the barracks, she chuckles and looks over to Ilare. Eyes lit towards Chanticoth. "Not a mornin dragon is he?" Wish Mzadith wasn't: She'd get more sleep. Hand dips into the nice, frosty oil and then smears over blue hide again. Though now she's so covered in the brew she might as well give up using her hands and simply leap on her dragon, rubbing it all on him. Now there's an idea that would confuse the babe. Blueling is already starting out with his daily curiousities. Wait...where's Zizth's shadow? And the rider's shadows? Why is the ground frosty and tough? Why are there icesicles hanging from Cayl's nose? Oooo! Zizth's just messing about. <> As she's thinking to herself, she's doing the actions... in what's a comical fashion to her. Oh yeah, she's got the grace... or so she thinks. Dancing about lightly on the ground, she's obviously not bothered with doing excercises. There's more interesting things to do. Now... where's that lifemate of hers? Mindful of Ilare's words, Chanticoth slowly extends his wings, stretching them carefully. Aren't they lovely wings? He wiggles them a little, just to show off. He's not going to start 'dancing' like Zizth though. Ilare wrinkles her nose. "Oh, he's a morning dragon. First awake, last to sleep. Y'know how it is. He just likes the cold less than I do." Winking at Chanticoth, she rubs her hands against his soft warm hide. "Now now, it's not that cold. And there's no breeze here abouts to freeze you. Now, wings up and out.. That's it, a bit higher... Now, further out.. Good lad!" Praising her dragon, she giggles. "Now retract.." Chanticoth bobs his head happily in response to Ilare's praise and slowly folds his wings back against his body, fidgeting a little to get them to lie just /so/. Is that it? Are we done now? Can we get warm? Zizth's loosing interest /again/. So no-one seems to like her dancing, huh? With a snort, she starts to trip back towards the barracks, in the way of Slippa. Ooooh Slippa! I'm coming to get yoooou! But, just before she can get further than the entrance, Slippa trots back out, wearing a long coat and dressed warmly, damp hair tucked back into a woollen hat. "Now, Zizth, get back out there and /stretch/ them wings!" She physically nudges the dragon back out, a job that's getting harder day by day. No breeze? Then what was that cold northernly breeze blowing past her and nearly freezing her to death? Ilare is eyed wearily before Cayl shakes her head and continues rubbing Mzadith. There's just so much of him! How was she ever to get all those itchy spots soothed? Almost unconsiously the bluelet begins to move his wings up and down, taking cue from the other dragonets around him. Ooo. Seee? HE's got a long wingspan. He'll be a fast fast flier. *Cough* He chances a glance upwards, peeking through the cloudgaps at the stars. Soooo pretty. But... Chanticoth senses that Mzadith thinks << What are the stars? Cayl can not explain them to me. >> Ilare makes a noise of amusement in her throat. "Nuh uh. We need to do lots of stretches so we can get ready for when we start flying. Now, again..." Another giggle escapes her, and she pulls her gloves from her pocket. She can't feel any wind. But it IS chilly - After all, it is sharding hell, that early? AM in the morning... She pauses her mental reminders, and chuckles. "Yes, you're doing perfectly. Now, a little faster, perhaps?" Chanticoth senses that Zizth chuckles. <> Chanticoth senses that he thinks about the little bright things in the sky and ponders. << Pretty things. >> He finally decides. << But not as pretty as Ilare. >> Wrapping herself tighter into her blanket-coat, Slippa instructs Zizth. The green's apparently over-large wings stretch out, membranes gleaming slightly pink as she stretches them. So she's not got as big a wingspan... Her head cranes around to peer at Chanticoth and Mzadith's wings. <> She mumbles, trying the make her own little wings appear bigger. "Do you guys have problems with your dragons not listening to you?" Slippa sighs. For all she loves Zizth, her attention span's a little short... Chanticoth senses that Zizth's thoughts shimmer apple-and-blue. <> Ilare awwws at her dragon, and chuckles. "You flatterer, you.." she smiles, but it's not going to stop him from doing exercises. "Now, lets try that a little faster, neh? then one wing at a time." Build up those muscles. If Mzadith could mentally facepalm, he would be doing that right about now. However, he just gives an exasperated 'huff' in responce to those answers given to him, not only by his clutchmates but by his own Cayl, and settles onto the ground, curling up a little. His ling busies herself by stretching out one of those long wings and oiling it. "Hm? Oh.." She thought Ilare had been talking to her. Blushing a little -if that's possible on her snow-white face-, Cayl turns back to scrubbing. Hearing Slippa, she glances over. "Was that to us? *Pause* Just checking. And no..not really. Well, kinda. He won't wake up when I tell him too. He ..okay, he rarely listens to me. That's normal right?" Chanticoth extends both wings one more time and then slowly extends his right wing, holding it high in the air for several seconds and shaking it in Zizth's direction in quiet disagreement before folding it back again. Slippa's hoping it's normal. "Zizth rarely listens. She's always looking for something more interesting to do. She wakes up at dawn, and doesn't sleep for ages." She sighs deeply, bringing the green back into check as she starts to wiggle her tail more than stretching her wings. "She's got such a short attention span...!" Chanticoth senses that Mzadith's volumnous voice echos faintly in betwinxt flurries of frosty midnight azure and the warming creams of carmine. Carmel pours over greenlit applehalves, mist clogs the thoughtprocesses. <> Something bad happens, it's /always/ Cayl that gets the blame. Yep. Sure. Okay, maybe he's biased here. Ilare gives a fond smile to her dragon, before glancing in the direction of her fellow Weyrlings and their lifemates. Slippa's comment is recieved with giggles. "Oh dear.. At least, for the most part, Chanticoth remembers what I've told him," after she's repeated it.. oo.. at least 12 or 13 times? "He's a very good dragon, aren't you Chanti? That's it, one wing at a time now. Stretch it up and out." She gives him a mental image, as well as demonstrating with her arm, not caring at all if she looks silly. Chanticoth senses that he pictures the barracks with bubbles on the walls. << Bubbles? Nah. Fish is the way to go. >> Lots of little fishies all painted on the walls... good enough to eat... Chanticoth senses that Zizth's twinkling thoughts are cinnamon scented and full of mischief. <> She burbles, sending fizzling images of the barracks, painted dark blue with silver-white splodges all over it. <> Oh yes, a very good dragon. Look, Chanti's doing exactly what Ilare's doing. Exactly. Zizth's not bothered to stretch any more. Instead, she lies down on the ground - carefully, so's not to get too dirty. "I'm guessing you'll be wanting an oiling now, eh?" She directs at the green. "D'you have any oil to spare, Cayl?" Ilare starts to giggle. Okay, yes, highly amusing Chanti. Up, and out! Fingers stretch out to the side, and wiggle a little, before she raises her arm over her head. Purses her lips in thought before blinking a few times. Someone said something? Oh, yeah, "Um, sure. How much you need? I'm almost done with Mzadith. He's a lot 'o hide." Chanticoth is given a glance out before she chuckles and then looks back to Slippa, holding out her oil bucket. "Mad's satisfied for now at least." Speaking of said dragon, she looks over to him and narrows her eyes. "Don't. Even. Think about it." Bathing! -Right- after she finished oiling him? NOT a chance. Chanticoth senses that Mzadith's soft, warning thoughts turn towards their more coldly curious tendrils. Flecks of silver iodine blend in with indigo to create clashing paints of chaotic hue. <> Just like an evaporating whisp, his voice is gone. Slippa grins, taking the oil. "Oh, she just needs her itchy spots doing. I oiled her earlier." Taking the oil, she starts work on 'ridges and green neck. "She's always itchy on her neck ridges..." Zizth croons approval, tail twitching and curling slowly, brushing up close to Mzadith's. Ilare rolls her eyes at some mental comment from her dragon, and changes her arm, instructing Chanticoth to do the same. "So, how're your dragons doing?" she enquires of the others idly as she repeats the exercises again. "Higher Chanti, and a little faster, hmm? That's it.." Chanticoth senses that Zizth mentally shrugs. <> Chanticoth complies. Higher and faster with the stretches. Are we done /yet/? It's /still/ cold... It is NOT that cold, Chanti.. "Oh, Zizth's fine. She doesn't like lessons, doesn't like listening to what I say unless it's interesting..." Sigh. Slippa's gonna work on that, though. Can't have a disobedient dragon now, can we? "So I've got to make everything interesting for her. And she likes bubbles." She slathes oil onto green's ridges liberally, rubbing it in. Chanticoth sniffs the air a little. Is to. Cayl smiles and gives a quiet nod, looking towards the greenlet and then changes tracks. "Oh, he's fine as normal. Though I dare say he's a little put off at the moment that I won't take him for a bath." She glares down at her evil evil dragon before looking towards Chanticoth. "His wings look stronger already. Mzadith says he's ready to fly, and it's a hastle keeping him groundbound!" Sigh. Mzadith, for his part, watches that tail crawling towards him and imediately takes an interest. Females are just /so/ confusing, but tails are awesome things! They wiggle and tiggle and bounce about by their self. See, his is doing that right now! Muzzle bends down and whuffles that 'selfalive' tail. Coooo Chanticoth senses that Mzadith thinks << Exactly. Cayl /hates/ firelizards. *Beamk* >> Is NOT. A roll of golden optics, and Ilare drops her arm back to her side. "Now, both wings again? Then you can go for a good stroll about the bowl before we go back in to the Barracks. And it's not that cold. Wait till winter," no, that's NOT a threat, it's a fact! "That'll be cold.." A shiver escapes her. She's not exactly looking forward to it. Turning a little to look towards Cayl, she smiles. "They're very strong now. I'm pleased - they'll be ready to carry him aloft in no time, I'm sure! But not yet, Chanti! Not till R'sli and the other riders say we can. You hear me?" This is directed back at the big brown, a grin remaining inspite of her stern words. Chanticoth cowers appropriately, regarding Ilare with fond amusement. Not cold, and no flying. Got it. Ok, let's stretch these wings one more time. Zizth's tail snakes a bit more. <> She whines at the blue, flicking her tail away quickly. It just wouldn't do it be /dirty/... Rolling opaelescent eyes, she turns to nudge her lifemate. "Right, Zizth, love, your tail's clean. Believe me. He didn't do it on purpose!" Zizth stretches her wings, standing up and giving a little experimentla flap. "Yes, fine, you can flap your wings, too. Though no flying. I know you weren't going to.. but still. No flying." Get her tail dirty? What was a little dirt? Woman are /so/ confusing! Mzadith looks pleadingly towards Cayl and the ling just shakes her head. "I don't know, Mza. I guess she doesn't want to be whuffled." An appologetic look is sent Slippa-wards. Tis a sad sad fate when Cayl can't even explain her 'own kind' to her bluelet. Mzadith, for his part, simply pouts and stares at the apple greenlet. Confuuuuusing! Ilare stretches her arms abover her head - just for the sake of stretching them, mind - before relaxing and nodding her approval at Chanticoth. "Excellent. Well done, lad." She grins and wraps her arms as far as she can about the base of his neck - she can't reach the whole way round anymore.. well.. not quite anyway, before stepping back and gesturing for him to do a couple of strolled laps about the weyrbowl. "Go stretch those legs of yours.." You mean Chanticoth's legs aren't long enough already? He needs to stretch...? Oh of course. Keeping one eye on Ilare at all times, never quite getting too far away from her, Chanti starts on a lap, tail waving absently behind him as he moves. And look at him move! Look at that balance! Such poise! He could be the ultimate model on a dragonic catwalk! Or maybe just a member of a dragon boy band? Well, even in the cold he appears to be livin' la vida loca..... ;)P Dies! Zizth doesn't like dirt. Nope. Mzadith was snorting dust on her, wasn't he? Slippa just giggles. "Oh, don't mind her. She's paranoid about getting dirty." She pauses in her oiling to watch Chanticoth. As does Zizth. Now there's a dragon with /style/! Oi. ;) Snerk! Chanticoth seems to perk up a little at all the attention he's getting and raises his tail a little higher, swishing it slowly. Let's not forget the hip wiggles and glances thrown back at the others. Livin La Vida Loca indeed... Mzadith simply stares towards Zizth before shaking his little rump and settling back down on the ground placidly. Glancing towards the wigglewoggling, 'gracefully' moving brown, the bluelet gives a little snort. Females he may not understand, but males he did all to well. Show off! *snicker* "No dear, you don't. No, she doesn't. No, he doesn't. Why?" Cayl drones on exasperately as she answers a few more of the 'onehundred question game'. "Well...she's proddy is all. I guess. I don't know, why you asking me?" This would probably be a safer conversation to take privately, but the woman's not really paying attention to what she's saying. She's watching Chanticoth with an arched brow. Amulet blinks in from ::between::! Proddy? Who's proddy? Zizth's eyes follow Chanticoth's every move. Woo-hoo! Go, Chanti!She warbles, wiggling her rump in time with his movements. Slippa's suppressed giggles turn into a yelp as the green rump swings a bit too close to her, almost bowling her over. "Zizth!" She yelps, then giggles. "Uh-oh. She thinks she's dancing again." Ilare covers her mouth with her hands. Oh dear! Well, it's not her fault that her dragon looks so good, neh? "Chanti..." Giggles capture her in their grasp, and she covers her eyes. All eyes are on him now, and she just KNOWS he'll be a handful when he's older. Chanticoth snorts in amusement at Zizth's antics. Let's all do the Chanti-dance! Tail goes this way, hips go that way, a little footwork. Superb. Utterly! Mzadith will /not/ be left out of this one. It's time for his walk anyways! A little intune hummm bubbling up within him, the bluelet pushes himself up and begins to wiggle too! See! He can /dance/! He can move! He can show off too! Chanti may have all the moves, but Mza's got...er...well, we'll work that one out later. Wings spread for balance and end up waving up and down like some disturbed ocean front, wiggling and wobbling. Hmmm Hummm Ummm Cayl just...watches her dragonet silently. Oh shards! "I think... There must be something in the air." A giggling Ilare makes her way towards her fellow Weyrlings, eyes on her brown. He's so not showing off! He just can't help looking gooooood! Slippa giggles at the dragons. "Oh dear...!" She says through laughs, as Zizth wriggles herself even more. "Yes, you look good, Zizth dear. Just don't lash your tail so!" She sends an amuzed look at Cayl and Ilare. "Dancing dragonets!" She says with a shrug, grinning. Of course not. It comes so naturally. And the Chanti-dance is infectiously. Time to add some head movements. Chanti bobs his head alternately up and down and side to side. The Dancing Dragonets, hmm? They should perform. Ilare snorts with laughter. "Yes you should!" she replies loudly, letting her voice carry cross, before she snickers at Slippa's comment. "Technically, they're not in the air. They're on the ground." And woe betide them when their dragons learn to fly.. It's the Dragon-Conga-Line! Everyone join in! Even Cayl's foot subconciously thumps, but it'll just have to go unnoticed burried beneath all that cloth, so nah. A glance is sent towards Ilare, but the ex-healer will not laugh. She will not laugh. But she will fall down giggling as Mzadith hurries up in attempt to catch up with the brownling. Head, however, does not bob up and down. No, instead it drags along the ground as the bluelet watches the movements of the other. He can learn, see? Instead, as his little body wiggles and jumps and bounces and shimmies it gives him the picture of some deranged vulture, head hung. But that's just..not true! Chanticoth eyes Mazdith as the bluelet catches up. He has a following! Let's try some synchronised dancing. One and two and tail swish. Of course, that's in addition to the hip wiggling, head bobbing, and footwork. One and two and tail /swish/... Slippa nudges Zizth. "You gonna join in, too? Go on!" And the green dances across to join up with the dancing brown and blue, copying their movements and even adding her own wing movements. Tail swishes, head bobs, feet work in time with Chanticoth's. She's got rhythm, that's certain. One and two and..three..and four..six? He lost track. So much for synchronised dancing, at least on the blue's behalf. However, what's dancing without music? Hm? Mzadith continues to 'thruuuum', his voice far more colorful and workable then his dancing. Still, tail goes swish, the wrong way, and little hips give a wiggle. Why should the humans have all the fun? A sweet, childish trill is sent Zizth-wards as she approaches and joins their line. Cayl? Well, Cayl is that little melted puddle of fitful laughter a short distance away. I've got Rythmn! I've got... Uh.. well, it appears that unless they count music in their lifemate's heads, they've no music. But these bebes have style! Yus! And is Cayl laughing? I though Cayl didn't laugh? Well , it matters not to Ilare, who's managed to drop to the floor since her legs can't stay steady while she gigglefits. Slippa's on the floor laughing. "Oh, Ziz!" She spurts out, banging the floor with a fist as the green rolls her eyes and wiggles hips more in a flirty way. Squeals of laughter emit from her once more, causing her to cry. Mzadith's got the tail swish, the hip wiggles... that's enough. It's the Chanti-dance... if not in the right order. Chanticoth eyes Ilare, also in a puddle on the ground and gives her a little hip wiggle for good measure. Ilare would roll, but the floor is COLD. And hard. And rocky. Besides, she's not a shipfish. "Oh my.." *swoon* Aren't these dragons simply the BEST? "Go, Chanti!" A cheer, bright and encouraging is given her dragon. Didn't she tell you exercise would warm you up? Cayl can laugh, she can! It just hurts. A lot. But she can! See? She's turning a bright red beneath all that extra cloth just from trying to restrain herself. It's not /fair/! Actually, she's not exactly the same 'Caylea' since she impressed. Even as she chokes and tries to pick herself up, looking towards her dragonet, Mzadith suddenly stops his dance (no doubt earning a few unexpected bumps from his clutchmates as they dance) and stares. They're laughing? At /us/? Let's see -them- try to dance on the col...er..hot hot predawn air! So nah! Cayl is having a hard time concentrating here, between her fits of giggles. "No..no..no dear, we're..not..laughing /at/ you but..with you." She snorts out another laugh, eyes wrinkled with spirits. "Yes..I /know/ you're not laughing..just.." She giggles. Slippa has disconnected. Slippa falls asleep. Ilare bubbles with laughter, head shaking. "Oh, my, by Faranth! You two dance a treat!" Praise for the dancing, yus yus yus. How can they not enjoy this spectacle? Especially when it is clear the two dragonlings are? Not that Chanticoth ever had /any/ doubts that he'd warm up. But this is more fun than stretches. He eyes Mzadith, tail swishing even as he pauses. You're holding up the line! Let's Chanti-dance! The housekeeper arrives to cart Slippa off to bed. Cayl has disconnected. Cayl suddenly goes into a quiet daze... Ilare finally, after much giggling, raises herself off the floor and dusts off her breeches, head still shaking and giggles still bubbling. "I think that's enough exercise, Chanti! Let's go back inside now, huh?" She smiles, not without a little bit of pride, at her dragon's agility and grace. We rule. Yeahh... Of course we rule. Ilare had her doubts? Tail still swishing in time to some unheard music, Chanti dances back to his lifemates side. Ilare giggles. Never. No doubts at all. Motioning for her dragon to head on into the barracks, a wink is given before Ilare follows after that lovely brandy-butter brown with his candy-cane striped tail. Chanticoth pads with enviable grace to the Weyrling Barracks. Chanticoth thinks to you, << Staying in the cold? >> You go to the Weyrling Barracks. Weyrling Barracks The large covered entryways open into two immense U-shaped caverns that stretch back deep into the rock of the cliffside. Glow baskets lining the cavern walls cast a soft light dispelling the shadows and illuminating the home of all High Reaches weyrlings. Stone couches, some smaller for the greens and blues and some, for bronzes and the occasional gold, so large they have to be climbed into, rise up to loom over the walkways of well-packed dirt. Along the walls nearest the entrances, shelves and pegs sport several sets of leathers and various books and tools needed when teaching and practicing; crates and supplies also take up residence in various nooks and crannies. Toward the back, a large, man-dug pool for use by the dragonets and their lifemates and several large containers kept full of fresh meat serve as conveniences for the busy residents of these barracks. To the southwest, you see Zaqith, Kelitath, Nylanth, Catiminith, Vespurath, Zizth, and Mzadith. Snuggled in with the leather supplies and tools are eleven firelizards. Green Miravith and brown Chanticoth are here. You see Weyrling Progress Record and Dragon Wing here. Obvious exits: Staff Office Bowl Couches You think to Chanticoth, >> not likely, hun.. << ============================ End Log ================================