Tilarekna - Saturday, January 06, 2001, 7:32 PM

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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 Kelitath, Vespurath, and Niamhyth.

Snuggled in with the leather supplies and tools are nine firelizards.

Brown Chanticoth is here.

You see Weyrling Progress Record and Dragon Wing here.

Mzadith comes out of Mzadith's couch.

Mzadith trip, skip, lumbers ackwardly to the Bowl.

Mzadith leads Cayl out.

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 a winter midmorning. The sun's light can barely been seen through

the clouds as it creeps up over the low eastern sky. The snow falls more

thickly now, blanketing the ground in a deep white cover.

Soaring high overhead are Shugogetten, Kiran, and Harme.

Green Kelitath, green Vespurath, and green Niamhyth are here.

Chanticoth pads with enviable grace in from the Weyrling Barracks.

Heading west, you wander back across the bowl 'neath spires' spikes.

Northern Bowl

Seasonal winds lash up against the wall of the bowl, whipping the already

hard-packed dirt into tiny dervishes of dust and debris: grit catches in

the narrow clefts that crack upwards, branching out around ornate arch of

the Council chambers to the north and higher about Weyrleaders' ledges and

Riders' more distant niches and nooks. Westward, the junior queens' weyrs

slant to the bowl floor, while to the northwest, wind roars through the

tunnels that lead into the Hatching Sands. Off to the east lie the equally

well-tended Weyrling grounds.

It is a winter midmorning. The sun's light can barely been seen through

the clouds as it creeps up over the low eastern sky. The snow falls more

thickly now, blanketing the ground in a deep white cover.

Clinging wind-blasted to Council arch is Orphan.

Gold Rhyath and brown Druseth are here.

Chanticoth survives the trek across the weyrling grounds.

Heading south, you wander across the bowl beneath spires' watchful peaks.

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 midmorning. The sun's light can barely been seen through

the clouds as it creeps up over the low eastern sky. The snow falls more

thickly now, blanketing the ground in a deep white cover.

Clinging to footholds in the boulder-mound are fourteen firelizards.

Green Yshanth, blue Lainnoth, bronze Rixesith, and blue Mzadith are here.

You see a wagonmaster, Cattysaur, Box, Half Keg of Benden Red, Dustina, and

Wagon Two here.

Chanticoth meanders in from the north.

Ilare shivers, somehow making her way through lots.. and lots.. and lots of

snow. Ick.

You go to the Living Caverns.

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.

Scattered about in various perches and niches are twenty firelizards.

You see Old Auntie sit-by-the-fire, OOC NOTICE (look sign), Boots, Hobbes,

Generic Sign-Up Sheet, and Kageri here.

Kinecha, Pyrene, Thesy, Cayl, and Auri are here.

Cayl strides into the room, looking decidedly more relaxed then she's been

in the previous days. In fact, she's whistling. Completely off-tune and

with no rhythme, but..it's not -too- painful. The ling glances around the

room, saluting the senior dragonriders and waving to Kinecha cheerfully.

Okay, this is a girl of extremes. Today she's /completely/...merry. "Hey.

What's up?" Besides the sky. And don't ask her where she got such a

crude saying.

"Mm-hmmm. If you say so," Thesy grins, not worried at all about her son,

knowing that there are some things you never forget how to do right. Isthy

gets her second half of the roll and her mother another sip of klah. The

invasion of weyrlings is noticed. Well, it's only two weyrlings but they

are Cayl and Ilare ... so it can be called an invasion?

Pyrene is scowling over a baby as she changes its nappy. Deja vu anyone? The

only difference is that she breaks out into a smile (albeit a slightly

wicked one) as she sees Auri (Ilare gets a rather careless wave). "Auri,

dear! I've got some good news for you!" she calls.

Invade? Well, if Chanticoth can't remember to keep his head outside and NOT

in the doorway, then yes, Ilare might call it an invasion. But she's

keeping him outside. And he's just bored. And did she mention it's cold? As

in this little weyrling is a white coated brownie? *shiver* Dusting off her

jacket, she pauses before grinning at those present in a 'I know just how

silly I look covered in snow, please don't say anything!' kind of way,

before giving a small wave. Now.. where's that fruit juice?

Auri skips into the room, singing some song she's made up herself, slightly

off key. "Alll the beautiful peoooople..." Big dewy eyes blink at Pyrene.

"Good news?" She claps her hands together. "Good news! Yay! I love good

news. Tell em the good news, Pyrene, tell me, ooh goodie-egglets, I can't

/wait/! Hee!" She's squirming like a little...squirmy...thing.

Kinecha slowly eats her redfruit, while taking little sips of klah in

between bites.

Pyrene's smile twists slightly towards grimacehood at Auri's impossible

perkiness, but with a glance at the others in the room she appears to make

up her mind. Finishing up Rhyes nappy-change, she carefully swings him back

into her arms and carries him Thesy-wards. "I think you'll like it,

Auripet," she says clearly enough for the entire room to hear. "I'm going

to have a baby." And she turns to give Thesy a rather frozen smirk, "And

/you/ owe me one...."

A glance is sent towards Ilare before she nearly pounces on the other,

litterally jogging across the room and semi-skidding to a stop before the

brownling. "Didcha hear?" Obviously it's important, cause Cayl's got the

weirdest, proudest smile on her face. Geesh, give someone a blue and they

change levels in sanity at the drop of a mark.

Thesy eventually decides that her daughter has finished her snack and lets

her slip from her lap and scoot off towards the children's quarters.

Settling back into her chair and cradling her mug in both hands now. A

totally nonplussed stare is directed at Pyrene, "I owe you -what-? I'm

sorry, m'dear ... but that won't work, you know? If you want bluerider

spawn you should ask D'renn or F'ish, you know?"

Pyrene tips her head at Thesy and bursts out laughing. "Oh, I don't want

bluerider-spawn, believe me," she says with a wry shudder. "But Cadgwith

and F'ish apparently do, and Catia assures me I've only got another eight

months of torment ahead of me." She bites her lip as she looks at her old

friend. "You did promise you'd help out with any child of mine, you know.

You should guard your tongue."

Auri blinks a few times. The thick lashes go up and down, up and down. Then,

Auri squees. "Squeeeeeee! Pyreeeeene! That's /so/ great Nanrene, /wow/.

Your'e going to have a /baby/. A baby!!! A Pyrene-baby! I'm so happy for

you Py, woooow. That's just....wow. A baby! Squeeeee!" and she goes

charging across the room like a stuck pink piglet and /jumps/ Pyrene,

flinging chubby arms around the older woman's neck.

Ilare freezes as she hears both Pyrene's announcement and Cayl's instant

need to gossip. Gape. Cadgwth's rider's preggers? Oh.. dear.. Is this a

good thing? Her dragon spawns and now Pyrene's due to? "Uh, hear what?

What?" Maybe an unusually hyper Cayl can distract her. "What? No, I didn't.

Hear. Um, huh?" Blank look.

You think to Chanticoth, >> Oh my stars! Chanticoth! Pyrene, Cadgwith's

rider, is going to have a baby!<< In 8 or so months time, of course, not

this second, but.. >> And I thought having to put up with Cadgwith-htachling

s was bad! <<

Chanticoth thinks to you, << A baby? A little Pyrene? Like I was when I

first was out of my shell? >>

Thesy just stares. And stares. And stares. And then also bursts into

laughter, "Pyrene!!! Congratulations!" Swiftly she gets to her feet to grab

the goldrider in a tight hug and then taking her son back, "Of course, I'll

help you. I'd be delighted to, you know that? You only have to let me know."

Pyrene hastily swoops Rhyes out of the way. Apparently nannying is a habit

you never quite forget and she deftly manages to return Auri's hug while

still supporting Rhyes snugly. "Auripet, you keep that up and I'll have a

/miscarriage/," she tells the girl, finding another advantage in pregnancy.

She knew there must be some. She's relieved to surrender Thesy's son back

to her, biting her lip as she looks at the bluerider. "How about fostering

it?"

You think to Chanticoth, >> Umm.. << Pyrene spawn will NEVER be a sweet as

Chanticoth. Ever. >> Human baby's don't hatch love. They're born... uhh...

<< how can she put this better? >> You'll see in eight month's time, love. <<

You think to Chanticoth, >> Ask Myrineth about where human babies come from.

her rider's a healer - I bet she could explain far better than I. <<

Because, after all, Ilare isn't a healer. nope. <<

However, Cayl's speech is soon interrupted by Pyrene's announcement. The

ling glances behind her shoulder at the goldrider and just...pauses. This

blank, 'um' stare finished, she coughs and looks back to Ilare. "Anyways,

Mzadith caught his first prey!" Good! Her blue dining on rodentia and

snakes that wander around would save her having to chop up meat. Or so she

hoped.

Chanticoth thinks to you, << They don't have shells? Very strange... >>

Chanticoth senses that Ilare chuckles faintly.

Ilare's expression is still horribly hectically blank. "Prey. He's hunting."

Ah.. but she din't think Mzadith and Cayl had had the flying class yet..

"Um.. Wow. Well done, to him." Yeah.. Maybe she can ask Chanticoth to pass

that on.. When she's stopped the "Where do Human Babies Come From?"

Questions. Poor Brownling, all snowed in and brain have frozen beyond

understanding that Pyrene is preggers and Mzadith is hunting. "Anyone know

where any juice is?" Save her, please?

Thesy returns to her chair, Rhyes already asleep again now that his problem

has been solved so expertly by Pyrene, and she laughs softly at her friend,

"Wait until the baby's born, you might have second thoughts about fostering

then, you know?" The bluerider certainly never even considered this option.

And still has some plany that might send Pyrene away screaming.

Pyrene wasn't sent away screaming at the prospect of motherhood (though it

was close thing), so Thesy might have a struggle doing it. "Thesy dear,

I've looked into thousands of newborn babies eyes and have seen the entire

range of emptiness, terror, resentment and Pern-domination scheming. I

doubt I'll be any different just because I'll have been instrumental in

making those eyes." She shudders faintly. "Congratulations, Cayl," she

adds. So Pyrene's pregnant and another blue dragon's learnt how to pounce

on things. Could this day get any better?

As if guessing from the expression Ilare gives her, Cayl quickly shakes her

head. "No, no, he didn't actually go catch a herdbeast. He isn't allowed

to fly yet." Okay, maybe the pride's fading a little from those

star-struck eyes as she continues. "He caught a 'snake raiding a lizzen

nest and... well...er..saved the eggs from a horrible demise." Mzadith's

words, not hers! And had a good snack at that. Mzadith hasn't asked her

-that- particular question yet. No one tell him Pyrene's pregnaunt! Cayl

certainly hasn't. Ling blinks towards this last question. "Um..Over

there? Like always?" She points towards the counter. Then, hearing

Pyrene, the woman's expression alters. "Pyrene's pregnant?" Well... d'uh.

She knew that. "Oh, and..um..congratulations to you, Ma'am." And the

other had such a horribly -colorful- way of describing a newborn child.

"On second thought, I need a drink too." She follows Ilare's shadow.

"Amazing what one can come up with. I haven't seen much in Isthy's or Rhyes

eyes when they were born. Well, once they decided to open them. Because a

newborn's eyes usually are shut tightly, you know?" Thesy grins at Pyrene,

swinging a leg idly, "And believe me, those nine months of carrying a child

make all of a difference."

"When they're practically newborn. They open up pretty quickly. Most of them

look shell-shocked," Pyrene muses, taking in congratulations as they come.

"Anyway, you're definitely changing its nappy." she'll pick a really good

time to do it too.

Ilare thought Cayl's dragon was the one with shadow obsession? Ne'er mind,

ne'er mind, she's managed to shut her brown up. And Cayl need not worry -

her dragon's in the midst of pondering how strange humans look if they're

not hatched from a shell. "Oh. Well. Still. Congrats." That's to the blue

'ling, even as Ilare picks up the juice jug, pours out a mug.. Down goes

the contents of that mug down her throat, and another mug is poured. Hmm..

"Congratulations, ma'am." So, having a dragon that hatched a green that

impressed to Viagra wasn't ENOUGH for her? Ilare'd break into tears, except

pregnancy lasts eight months. And for all they know, maybe Pyrene's faking?

Hmm.. probably not..

D'renn strides in from the Central Bowl.

D'renn strolls into the living cavern, unwinding his scarf and grumbling,

quite audibly, at Trydanth. "No. No you can't. Honestly, what's wrong with

just one wherry? You can't be..." His litany breaks off to give a "Good

morning," to the caverns occupants, and resumes to "What? No. No. Shut up

and let me have some breakfast."

Shouldn't Pyrene know her well enough by now to know that Thesy won't mind

changing a baby's nappy anywhere? "I will, no worries." comes her amused

reply, the grin on her face threatening to split it apart when she spots

D'renn. "Heard the good news yet? Pyrene's going to have a baby!" As if

impressing gold wasn't bad enough.

And there's the klah all over the floor before D'renn even had time to pour

anything from the pitcher into a mug. "Huh?"

Auri squees at D'renn for the heck of it. "Pyrene's /spawwwwning/," she

says, using that word she hears all the time. "Isn't it /wonderful/?"

Auri has disconnected.

Auri slips into slumber.

Grabbing her own class of juice, she gives a mental grown. S'not green. Oh

well, Ista would forever be treasured as a passing memory. The weyrling

glances towards Ilare and goes to set down. Wait: Now she was /certainly/

not answering that question. At least completely truthfully. "They come

from D'renns, F'ishes, and B'arts." She says shortly and to herself before

taking another sip of juice.

Pyrene dredges a beam up from somewhere to aim at D'renn. "I'm pregnant.

F'ish is the father. Maybe I can get Lis to foster it... she seems to be

ready to take waifs and strays in," she expands on the issue for him.

Ilare doesn't think it wonderful, but *heh* what's this lil' brownling know?

"Hmm." is about as vocal on the subject as she's likely to get, taking a

seat opposite Cayl as she sips her juice and thaws out by the hearth. Ista,

oh Ista.. Why didn't she Impress there? It's a lot.. Saner at Ista. Ah

well, she'll survive... Or at least Ilare hopes she will. Preggers. Oi..

Lilah walks in from the Central Bowl.

Thesy * snugs and needs to go to bed. Thanks for RP and congrats again, Pyr!

:)

"Errrrrr. Errrrrrr. Errrrrrrrr. F'ish..... Errrrrrrr." D'renn stares down at

his klah-covered boots, making random noises. "Don't want it. Won't let Lis

foster it." Is he making sense?

Lilah exchanges the protection of stone for the bowl outside.

The housekeeper arrives to cart Auri off to bed.

<Kamikaze Wing> Chanticoth senses that Mzadith thinks << Cadgwith's rider's

egg comes from a fish? Is it edible? Does it smell like a fish? Mmm. >>

<Kamikaze Wing> Chanticoth senses that he yums and hungry tendrils surround

his thoughts. << Fish.... yuuuummm.... >>

Pyrene takes grim pleasure in D'renn's d'scomfiture. "Now now, you don't own

Lis. If she takes it into her head to foster it, how will you stop her?"

she asks. "Besides, Lis was /very/ supportive when we find out that I might

be pregnant. I've not seen her to tell it's been confirmed yet." An

uncertain finger presses a dimple in her chin as she studies her empty

juice glass lacklustrely.

Kinecha exchanges the protection of stone for the bowl outside.

Thesy eyes D'renn a bit worriedly. No, he's not making any sense to her.

Standing, she resettles the baby in her arm, "Well, I'm sure you'll survive

that blow, D'renn. But if Lis likes the idea, I don't think you will be

able to do anything about it." And on that note she waves at the others and

is gone before her wingmate can retaliate.

You think to Chanticoth, >> uhhh, sweetie? what's that about fish? <<

Thesy exchanges the protection of stone for the bowl outside.

Rhyes has left.

D'renn manages to pour a full mug of klah now, by concentrating carefully.

Leaving the puddle for the drudge to mop up - and he's already there - the

bluerider lurches over to sit near Pyrene. "Can I tell Lis then?" he begs,

suddenly eager.

Chanticoth senses Mzadith's voice milks into your's, visible tendrils of

azure innocent freckled with lava-pools of eagerness. <<Can I have some of

your rider's egg? Fish sounds very good right now, and I'm so very

hungry.>> Or is he just hungry at the thought of all that good food? to

him.

Chanticoth thinks to you, << Mzadith says Cadgwith's rider's baby comes from

fish. I like fish. >>

Hmmm? Fish? why is her dragon thinking about seafoo---Glance at Cayl

confirms her suspicions. "Cayl, what did you tell your dragon?" Ilare

shakes her head and sips more juice, before choking, gasping for breath.

"WHAT?!" Now.. Oh my.. What HAS Cayl been saying to her dragon?? Nervous

glance is shot at everyone else, before she zones out...

Pyrene leans slightly away from D'renn as if his proximity might contaminate

the child within her. "Go ahead. Save me having to repeat it more times

than I have to," she notes ruefully. Then blinks. and for no visible

reason, glares at Cayl.

Chanticoth thinks to you, << I bespoke Mzadith with: Chanticoth's words are

encircled by puzzlement. << Ilare has an egg? She did not tell me. If it

/is/ a fish egg, I get to eat some first. >> He /likes/ fish. to him. >>

You think to Chanticoth, >> I know you do, sweetie, but.. Pyrene's baby was

created by Pyrene with F'ish the /RIDER/. Not the food. << embarressed

much? >> <<

D'renn doesn't rub his hands together in glee, but that's probably because

he's holding his klah mug carefully. "Well, if she wants to foster it, as

well as your sister, I'm moving back to my own weyr." he decides.

Kyera arrives from deeper in the Weyr.

Kyera heads north into the redolent depths of the kitchens.

Kyera comes out of the kitchens, the smell of fresh baking following just

behind.

Chanticoth thinks to you, << Oh... F'ish. Not fish. Oh. Not the eat-able

sort. >>

You think to Chanticoth, >> nope. And.. hun, I don't have an egg. I told

you, humans don't lay eggs! <<

You sense Chanticoth rumbles quietly to himself, thoughtfully. << Then where

do little Humans come from? >>

Cayl seems completely innocent and clueless of Ilare's question. "Hm?

What?" Eyes unfocus for a moment as she becons her dragon for an

explaination to what she thought had been a simple and private answer to

his question of... "Um..I..Was just telling Mza where babies came from..."

She blinks and turns mildly pale, looking towards Pyrene just in time to

spot that glare. Coughing, she quickly takes another drink of her juice.

She's innocent here! And no, she most certainly will /not/ fetch her

dragonet some fish. Whine.

Pyrene raises her brows at D'renn. "Oh would you now? Have a care, that just

might decide Lis to foster it," she baits wickedly. She's not going to be

diplomatic anymore. She's pregnant, she's entitled to a few allowances.

Ilare turns a strange shade of bright pink, before hiding her face in her

juice mug. "Oh.. shards.." Whispered words are embarressed, and Cayl is

shot fiery looks that would sear thread from the skies were she a

pyrokinetic. "What, exACTly, did you say?" Hissed, and not at all happy.

"Because now Chanti think's I have an egg from a fish and.." she turns a

deeper red as she breaks off to remind her lifemate that, NO, he can't have

a fish to eat and NO, human's DONT lay eggs like dragons do! Oi..

That don't impress D'renn much. He just shrugs, and finally drinks some of

his klah. "So... you sure it's F'ish's fault, Pyrene?"

<Kamikaze Wing> Chanticoth senses that Mzadith mindflops over in pleasure at

all the salt. (goes good with fish). However, confusion bubbles over, a

giant who's meerly a puzzled child. <<But why would you keep an egg? The

shell is too soft to play with and the shadow it castes is rather dull...>>

He hasn't a clue what he's saying, but fleeting images of the golden queen

staring down at a tiny, bizarre-crusted egg flits through.

You think to Chanticoth, >> hun, ask Catia's green. Or perhaps Cadgwith will

tell you? << As long as he DOESN'T ask the weyr, they'll be fine.. <<

A soft gaze as Kyera stepped in, boredly. Eyeing the others a bit as she

plopped into a nearby chair with a soft sigh. Looking about, elbow propted

up, head leaning on it, t'day was nothing for her.

Chanticoth senses Mzadith privately beseeches you, confusion at the queen

pushing him to confide in his siblings. <<But Pyrene says she will keep

the egg. But fish are for eating? It will spoil if she keeps it!>> to him.

Pyrene glances at D'renn darkly. "He's the only person I've got that close

too in the past three months, so yeah... pretty sure. Certainly you can't

claim paternity." She sighs at Ilare's words. "Don't worry, Ilare... it's

just Mzadith's colour showing through," she calls over, waving lightly to

Kyera.

Kyera looks up, sensing the waving motion, nodding to Pyrene, brushing her

hair back out of the way of her eyes.

Perhaps now Ilare can see just why Pyrene's not too fond of blues. Except

her father rides blue and.. Oh dear.. "Yes'm..." Kyera is smiled at, but

the blush remains.

Chanticoth senses Cadgwith takes a hand with the weyrlings, showing an egg

and then superimposing Pyrene over it. Abruptly it hatches, and the baby

falls out through Pyrene and lies on the ground waving its limbs. >> That

is a human egg, << she explains with utter conviction. to him.

Chanticoth thinks to you, << I bespoke Mzadith with: Chanticoth soothingly

responds in a calm voice. << Ilare says it is a F'ish egg, not a fish egg.

Not eatable. >> to him. >>

"Huh. I'd hope never to be able to claim paternity if you were pregnant,"

D'renn replies to Pyrene - insulting, but possibly not meaning to be so.

"Oh, don't worry, Reka, Cayl..... you'll get them to understand eventually.

Ask Pyrene what Cadgwith thinks."

A yawn was given off, listening into this conversation of pregnancy, hoping

not to be rude. Lashes flutter- refusing to fall asleep or look like Kyera

was. Looking about a bit, fiddling with the tips of her finger nails.

Chanticoth senses Mzadith now seems completely confused. <<A fish egg, but

not a fish egg?>> From the queen's images, he relays what he thinks she

means. There's an egg, and there's Pyrene. The egg is behind Pyrene -so

she must be setting on it. Suddenly, the egg drops from between her legs,

but has changed into the squirming, pinkish purple blob with waving, horrid

limbs, and soul-less eyes. No more questions come, instead a simple

statement and hint of firery worry for his own Cayl. <<Human eggs

are...scary.>> to him.

Ilare already knows what Cadgwith thinks - her dragon's passing on not only

the... image.. from the queen dragon, but her own brown's vaguely cute

confusion. Help... Cayl is shot a LOOK. This is SO her fault. Yep. All

Cayl's. And Mzadith's. She'd EVERYTHING sorted with Chanti as to where

human babies came from and... *sigh* Is it over yet? Pouring more juice,

she mutters very very softly, "Stupid no drinking rules.." And she doesn't

even like wine.

Pyrene grins tightly at D'renn. "I'd never give you cause to," she responds.

Pregnancy still sits ill with her, but apparently it's not knocked her that

off-balance. "The weyrlingmasters are going to have such fun straightening

your two out," she notes to Ilare and Cayl as Cadge lets her in on how she

explained this to them.

Chanticoth thinks to you, << I bespoke Mzadith with: Chanticoth doesn't seem

very impressed. << Human egg. It's very small... >> And not very pretty,

but we won't mention that... to him. >>

Ilare is fine. But her poor dragon.. Mug is put down, arms are folded and

head hidden in the folds. Oi.. *sob* Poor Ilare..

Chanticoth thinks to you, << Human eggs are not very pretty. << Oh well,

might as well ask... >> Will you be having a F'ish egg someday? >>

Cayl would defend herself! It's not her fault!! She tried to explain

things to her blue..without all the more...wholesome..details, and it'd

backfired. Pyrene is shot an accusing look, though her skin if flushed so

red it might be hard to see. "What's /that/ supposed to mean?" Were they

making fun of her blooboy because he didn't understand? Cayl's hands fold

across her chest and she simply pouts and looks back to Ilare. "/Whaaat/?

I just told him that babies came from D'renns, F'ishes, and B'arts. How

was I to know he'd think like this?" Suddenly, an image of a horribly

twisted blob dropping from Pyrene, ten limbs flailing in purplish pink-goo

as it's soul-less eyes peer out. "Oh...shells." She whispers to herself

before she tries to explain things a /bit/ better to her dragon.

Ilare gives a squeak and sits up. "NO!!" She's denying something very

loudly, all colour draining from her features. "Oh, SHARDS, No!" If her

face had been red before, it's practically crimson now, and her hand clamps

over one mouth. Oh, dear. Oh /dear/!. Cayl is given a glare that would

rival any of the blue 'lings. "This is your fault!"

Pyrene gazes at the weyrling's uncertainly. "Why do /I/ have to be the

subject of a biology lesson?" she asks. "Tell them to ask Alymath or

Sardrinth. They've both seen their riders go through it twice recently."

She blinks at Ilare and crosses hands over her stomach defensively.

You think to Chanticoth, >> NO!!<< Shock, surprise at the question, then

embarressment colour her words. >>No, Chanti! Never!<< Because Ilare isn't

fond of kiddies much. Dragon bebes are always the exception, but.. >> No,

I'll not be having any sort of egg.<< <<

Chanticoth thinks to you, << Oh. << A pause. Ilare sounds very definite. >>

No eggs. Ok. >>

D'renn stops staring into his klah mug and looks at Pyrene instead.

"Myrineth, then. Her rider's done it three times, /and/ she's a healer."

Ilare shoots Pyrene an embarrassed glance. "Sorry, ma'am. It's not that..

it.. oh.. Fardles.. I've asked him to query Myrineth, but he seems

determined to ask me.." And what he just asked isn't up for discussion.

Nope.

Chanticoth senses that Ilare gives a mental nod, and embarrassement fades,

soothing colours sent forth. >> Sweetie, no. no human Ilare eggs. Ever. No

more questions?<< Please say no..

Pyrene chuckles wryly. "Yes... Myrineth. Catia certainly knows what she's

doing." Unfortunately. She sighs and huddles her knees up suddenly. "I

don't suppose anybody knows where F'ish is? Cadge says that Arielth is

sleeping and she doesn't know where his rider is. I really ought to tell

him that it's been confirmed. I'm going to have a baby." She practices

saying it.

Okay, given the distorted images Mzadith's already come up with just from

the Queen's explaination, asking Alymath or Sardrinth could mean doom for

the Weyr at whole. Images of twisted versions of.../everything/ would

haunt people in their sleep (especially Cayl). Pyrene is simply stared at

before Ilare sits up and accuses her of something horrible. "It's ...

It's... Okay, it's /my/ fault." Suddenly a rather self pleased, amused

smile replaces her paled expression and Cayl leans back in her chair.

"Why, what'd he tell you?" Refering to Chanti speaking with Ilare. And

all this fish talk has left the woman with an appetite. However, any

hunger pangs are quelled by Mzadith's continued exploration into the human

genre.

You sense Chanticoth sounds rather meek at the tone in his lifemate's voice.

>> Um... well actually... << A pause. >> No. No more questions. Not one. <<

A sudden yawn before she nearly fell asleep over the bickering, not really

caring at the moment. Kyera shoke her head a bit, acting as if nothing

really happened. Her hands reached for a mug..filling it with steaming

klah. Sipping at it, watching the others..

Chanticoth senses that Ilare sends the equivalent of a mental hug. And lots

of cuddles too. >> Sweetie, I'm sorry. Questions are god, but.. not right

now? << Another hug.

"No idea where F'ish is..." D'renn answers, peering over at the weyrlings

with a slightly worried expression.

You sense Chanticoth grumbles to himself and sighs. But enquiring minds

wanna know! Alright... no more questions. Promise.

Yup, it's ALL Cayl's fault. And she admits it too! Hah! Ilare gives her a

sharp look, face blanching now instead of taking on an even rosier hue.

"Like I'm going to say.." she responds quickly, hunching her shoulders,

brows furrowing. *Le sigh*

Chanticoth senses that Ilare is instantly apologetic. >> Sweetie, I'm sorry.

Never not ask when you're confused, okay? <<

You think to Chanticoth, >> you just caught me off guard with those ones,

love. <<

Pyrene stands and sighs, taking a cream puff for tradition's sake. "I think

I'm going to go back to my weyr and sulk at Cadge for a bit," she excuses

herself to the others. "And thank the skies that morning sickness still

hasn't set in." Shaking her head, dubious yet about the new role she's

entering into, she slips outside.

Pyrene exchanges the protection of stone for the bowl outside.

You sense Chanticoth is somewhat mollified if still a bit meek. << Alright.

But I didn't /mean/ to. >>

"Just you wait!" D'renn yells cheerfully after Pyrene - not that he knows

anything about it anyhow. "Well, I hope you two get your dragons

straightened out before we have two whole classes in confusion," he tells

Cayl and Ilare, and abandons his klah to leave, too.

You think to Chanticoth, >> I know, sweetie, I know.<< A mental hug. >> I'm

sorry. <<

You sense Chanticoth offers Ilare a mental hug. << It's alright. >>

What -perfect- timing. Via suddenly rushes in, her pouty little eyebrows

puffed up to surpreme sweetness as she gazes around the caverns and gives a

smooth little wave towards all those cuties lounging around. A liquid

salute is given towards the dragonriders, no doubt to impress the males,

instead of show respect, and the girl makes her way across towards....

"/Cayl/! Netteth tells me Mzadith's learned of the 'eggs and fish'...

Which I didn't understand at first. Till she gave me this oh so cute

image." Eyes roll as the girl sets herself right next to the bluerider,

and Cayl just whimpers.

D'renn exchanges the protection of stone for the bowl outside.

Chanticoth thinks to you, << I am now listening for all messages. >>

Bay> Central Bowl

Bay> 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.

Bay> 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.

Bay> It is a winter noon. The air is filled with cascading white

snowflakes.

Bay> Clinging to footholds in the boulder-mound are fourteen firelizards.

Bay> Green Yshanth, blue Lainnoth, bronze Rixesith, blue Mzadith, and brown

Chanticoth are here.

Bay> You see a wagonmaster, Cattysaur, Box, Half Keg of Benden Red, Dustina,

and Wagon Two here.

Bay> You notice Ryern asleep here.

Bay> Pyrene is here.

Bay exchanges the protection of stone for the bowl outside.

Bay> Chanticoth glances up from contemplating his talons while in

conversation with his rider. Pyrene wants to speak to him? And Mzadith?

Ok... Chanticoth quietly pads over to the weyrwoman, tail swishing slightly.

Ilare recoils in horror as Via - isn't this child supposed to still be with

her lifemate and NOT allowed in here?? - appears and proceeds to prattle on

about things they REALLY don't want aired in here. Rather Cayl than her

though..

Bay> Mzadith unfolds himself and shuffles his wings as he glances towards

Pyrene. It's /her/!! The infamous Fish! Oooo, attention is fully on her.

Chanticoth senses that Ilare really IS sorry. Honest. >> Hun, you okay? I'll

try and explain it properly later, when we're in our couch, okay?

Bay> Chanticoth wags a tail at Mzadith slightly. Nooo.. not Fish.

Not-edible-F'ish... remember? He /would/ eat fish, though, if it was going.

Bay> Pyrene grins in amusement up at the two dragons and lightly places one

hand on her tummy. "Humans don't have eggs, so I have to keep my baby in

here. Don't touch!" she hastily adds, getting Cadge to reinforce that

command. "It's very small right now, but it'll grow, and when it's big

enough, it'll come out." Any questions?

You sense Chanticoth sounds happier now. << Okay. Later. >>

Bay> Chanticoth lowers his head so his eyes are level with Pyrene-tummy and

eyes it carefully, mindful of Cadge's warning not to touch. There's a

not-egg-little-human in there? It's hiding very well...

Via simply ignores Ilare for now, though she will get her turn, oh yes, and

stares at Cayl. "Now /why/ are you trying to confuse my sweets! You

-know- she's vulnerable at this age. You're big lug keeps spiking her

meat!" That would explain why when Netteth walks, she wobbles from side to

side, trying to appear so ...attractive? Between clinched teeth, blueling

stares. "Don't..you..think it would be /better/ to beeee with her at such

a troubling time as this?" IE out of this room? Leaving Cayl alone? they

were supposed to keep their 'relation-ship' a secret. That was three times

as hard when Via came to her for every little need. "Oh, she's /fine/. I

already -explained- these things to her. I just don't understand the way

you explained them to dear Mzadith?" He's not your dear. (Cayl's unspoken

input) "Anyways..Oh /Ilare/! How -are- you today?" Beam.

Bay> Pyrene rests against Cadgwith's mind as the gold passes on what

reactions she senses from the two young dragons--and asks her own

questions. "It's /really/ small," she explains, demonstrating by holding

her thumb and forefinger out, barely a millimetre apart. "But as it grows,

my tummy will get bigger. Do you remember Cadge before she clutched?" She's

doubtful, knowing dragon memories. /Cadge/ can barely remember what size

she was before she clutched.

Bay> Indeed. It /is/ hidden very well. The blueling's muzzle lowers to the

ground, peering at Pyrene's middle and trying to imagine a -not egg- baby

in there. It's a little hard for Mzadith, but he's starting to catch on.

Ooooh, so /that's/ how they do it. So how to fish deal with this? (Explain

that Fish does not equal fish is...a null point.)

Ilare was FINE... well.. almost fine, until this little mophead showed up.

"Alive." Well, it's the truth isn't it? "R'sli and Catia will have your

hide if you don't get back to the barracks quick. And you'd better avoid

being seen too." Just some wise 'old' advice from a eyrling who's more used

to the life mate process - she HAS been bonded to Chanti for far longer

after all.

Kyera murmurs softly, "I'd better leave..before..eh..anything"..and off she

went trailing to the dorms..where she could collapse.

Kyera steps into the shadows that lead back into the Weyr.

Ilare glances over her shoulder. Whoops. think we scared her off?

Bay> Well, no, Chanticoth /doesn't/ remember, but Ilare says he was once as

small as the little weyrlings from Cadge's clutch are now. He's bigger now.

So, it might as well stand to reason that a not-egg would get bigger too.

The distance between Pyrene's fingers is eyed. Wow... that is /small/.

Bay> Tiny, even!

Via just snorts at this little 'help'. "Netteth's right outside the door.

We're allowed to come out now, after all." Though she really wasn't

supposed to be leaving her dragon. /Anywhere/. But try explaining that to

-her-. Cayl just sighs and points to the door. "Go. I'll explain it to

you yesturday." Ilare is given the 'look' as Cayl tries to keep her

patience. "Hmph. I don't have to take this. I'm leaving." She states

and stands up, flicking her hair abusively in Ilare's direction and heading

out. "Coming Netty." She calls out and walks around the bend.

Bay> Itty bitty bitty!

Bay> Itsy bitsy, teeny weeny...

Bay> Little. Very little.

Bay> Pyrene grimaces at her midriff. "Anyway... that's how we have babies.

Are you going to stop pestering your poor riders now?" she asks them, eyes

wry. "If you're good, I might let your rider /foster/ the brat once it's

born." At the rate Pyrene's going, weyrfolk are going to have take

timeshares out on the thing.

Bay> But most likely neither yellow nor polka-dotted.

Bay> Chanticoth straightens his neck so his head is its usual distance from

the ground. Well... Ilare was fairly insistent on /not/ liking a not-egg.

But a human that small might be really gosh-darn cute.

Ilare snorts, unimpressed. If R'ave's buttwiggling can't get a reaction from

her, Via's hair flicking certainly wont. Besides, Ilare does it so much

better. The hair flicking thing that is. "Brat..." is muttered very very

quietly, before juice is sipped. "I feel sorry for that green."

Takovic arrives from deeper in the Weyr.

Bay> Pyrene giggles lightly at the dragons then a gust of wind makes her

shiver and she hastens towards her weyr, flicking a wave behind her to the

dragons.

Bay> Pyrene goes home.

You notice Takovic looking at you.

Bay> And Cayl had absolutely no opinions on weither she wanted a not-egg or

not.. If it happens it happens? Where are the F'ish when you need them?

Blue purrrrs sofly as he leaves his head down there on the ground -nice and

comfortable. Got it.

Takovic enters the room at a rather quick pace, though not quick at all for

his norm. His grey eyes focus downward, on his feet, as he walks, still

managing to give the impression that he knows where he's going. One hand

holds a rolled up sheet of paper, while the other repeatedly adjusts his

spectacles--very typical indeed for him.

Ilare wouldn't know that which is typical for a Takovic - she's not often

about these caverns to know. A sigh escapes her, and she shakes her head.

"The sooner we make senior the better," she mutters to Cayl.

Cayl gives a shrug of her shoulder and a small sigh. She's definately not

offended by Ilare's statement, and even goes so far to agree. "I know.

She's been like that her whole life. Downright spoiled from birth." And

there's her slippup. Fingers cross as Cayl eyes Ilare. And then glances

behind her towards the newest entrant. "Oh..lo." She greets

halfheartedly. Via's really gotten on her nerves for the umpteenth time.

Takovic takes only brief notice of the two weyrlings, looking up and smiling

slightly in their direction. He doesn't ask about their conversation; he

doesn't say anything for that matter. He instead just continues toward his

little table in the corner, sits down, and unrolls the paper he'd been

carrying. And, of course, he adjusts his spectacles again as well.

Ilare snorts into her redfruit juice. "No really? How could you tell?" It

appears the finger crossing has been successful - Ilare hasn't really

noticed the slip-up. "She deserves a good.. umm.. Hi." Takovic has been

noted, and nodded to, before she rolls her eyes and sighs again.

The weyrling gives another shrug of her shoulder, chuckling ironically.

"She deserves more then that. Faranth knows how she got a green...er..okay,

so that's obvious. Green matches her perfectly." 'Nuff said. Cayl

purses her lip and stands up. "Well..I should be going. Knowing Mzadith,

he's still trying to explain 'his' version of the birds and vtols." She

heads off for the exit.

Cayl exchanges the protection of stone for the bowl outside.

Bay> Cayl steps out from the Weyr's living caverns.

Bay> Cayl goes home.

Bay> Mzadith goes home.

Ilare sighs very very faintly. And rising from her chair, tosses Takovic a

wave. Speaking of dragons.. She needs to talk with hers!

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 noon. The air is filled with cascading white snowflakes.

Clinging to footholds in the boulder-mound are fifteen firelizards.

Green Yshanth, blue Lainnoth, bronze Rixesith, and brown Chanticoth are here.

You see a wagonmaster, Cattysaur, Box, Half Keg of Benden Red, Dustina, and

Wagon Two here.

Ilare wanders through the flakes towards her dragon, extending a hand

towards the brown nose. "Lets get back to the barrack, eh?" Looks like

flying might be out of the question today.. *sigh* Ah well..

Chanticoth dips his head slightly so Ilare can reach the brown nose, and

rumbles in agreement. Barracks. Sounds good.

You click your heels three times.

Chanticoth's Couch of Cuddles

Cozy, if a bit roomy for its current occupants, this dragon couch was

designed to fit the future needs of the pair sharing it. Rushes have been

piled deep on the raised couch, their scent and appearance indicating them

to be newly laid down. Arranged so they lie flat, the area has been swept

clean and dust-free. Upon one end of the couch, several quilts cover them,

each one in brightest royal blue and deepest darkest black, patchwork

colors of the Weyr. The smell of clean rushes and aired quilts waft about

here, carrying with it the scent of freshly oiled dragon hide.

Obvious exits:

Barracks

Bay> Ilare goes home.

Chanticoth comes home.

Ilare shivers, hanging her jacket somewhere neat so it can dry off, before

grabbing a jumper and pulling it on as she speaks to her dragon. "You

alright? Not too snowy I hope?"

There is the small matter of melting snow on Chanticoth's back, wings and

head, but he's all nice and warm now, so it's permissable. He'll live.