The following is a log of roleplay on Threadfall MUSH, logged by Z'vind.
All references to the world and characters of Pern™ based on Anne McCaffrey's fiction are copyrightę 1967 by Anne McCaffrey, all rights reserved. The Dragonriders of Pern« is registered U.S. Patent and Trademark Office, by Anne McCaffrey and used here with permission.


Southern Bowl - Ista Weyr(#69RJ$)
    Spread out along the larger end of the caldera, this end of the bowl is significantly larger than that which lies just beyond the small inlet of two feet of craggy mountains that creep down to form an incomplete partition. The walls of the ancient volcano, long-since slumbering inactive, spread upward with sheer cliffaces that reach into the sky, their outlines reminiscent of four pointed fingers and a thumb. Activity bustles in this area at nearly all hours of the day with dragons or people coming and going throughout the bowl on various errands.
    Tucked into the southernmost wall are the living caverns, the gaping tunnel that leads within illuminated by the glowbaskets set within; just beside this is a larger entrance that leads to the dragon infirmary. The Hatching grounds are found in this area, with a tunnel a ground level just large enough to allow passage for an egg-heavy Queen and a larger, gaping entrance in the side of the mountain for draconic spectators to enter. Numerous weyrs dot the mountainside and the ground in this area, some darkened and some illuminated from within.
Contents:
Kealath
Marcath
Genevrath
Nimoth
Obvious exits:
Infirmary     Caverns Tunnel     Ground Weyrs      Hatching Grounds     Northern Bowl

It is currently late evening on day 1 of the 6th month of Turn 199 of the 10th Interval.

--** Local Weather Conditions **--
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A zephyr wafts its way across the bowl, bringing with it the fresh scent of the ocean's coolness, faintly green-tinged as if it had also traveled from mountain passes still choked with snow. The sun warms the landscape, not yet burning the still-new greenery into summer's golden panorama, but warming it into verdant beauty. The sun reflects off of morning dew that burns away by afternoon, leaving behind a pleasant atmosphere in which to work and play. The night's still retain Spring's soft breezes, though nothing of frost is known to these tropical environs.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Taking a hold of umber straps, you launch yourself off supple crevices and slide down -- to the ground and whatever lurks beyond.

Kealath settles in, in a hollow between dragons he claims as his. Neck rises to investigate the zephyr breeze's tail, then tilts towards the unusual sounds, eyes rapidly whirling golden.

Kealath
      Conclusive perfection is depicted in every mottled nuance of this divinely crafted brown dragon, his form a complete depiction of the verdancy of a newly born world. Raw earth drifts in darkened crevices across the landscape of his back, broad and deep with the bluish shadows of networking subterranean caves tinged only faintly with the stubbornly clinging fingers of finely dusted emerald lichen. Curving wingbones arch with finely honed precision to support the chaotic imagery of his nearly translucent wingsails, themselves animated to depict the fiery flow of amber-touched lava across the mahogany of virgin soil, rich tresses of curling bubbles that erupt into splattered droplets of illuminated gold. Trickles of these more livid hues creep along the sinuous line of his belly, slowly hardening into duskier hues of obsidian that flicker with mirror-like polish over the warm cinnamon of his heavily muscled hindquarters, a powerful compliment to the chaotic vortex of creation. Thick fronds of burnt sienna billow along his extremities, swirling as if caught on the first breeze of existence to envelop the elegant spade of his tail, the fierce curve of his talons, and the gentle slope of his muzzle in the warmth of a newborn embrace. The crest of the surf clings to his forelimbs, paling the jungle of silvery cedar where waves might lap against a seaward forest, the soft azure dappled with milky brown shadows of a thick canopy's web of overhanging branches.

Kealath is approximately 0 Turns, 10 months, 1 day, measuring 24.2 metres in length, with a wingspan of 36.3 metres.

Stamping around the entrance to the living caverns, Genevrath's cobalt-tip tail is snapping with the anger that gives her a lurid glimmer in the light spilled from within. Her bugling's stopped, crystallizing into a furiously hissed rumble that should make any sane person to whom it's directed shiver.

(Genevrath)
Pale seafoam swirls and crashes in wild defiance over a richly emerald hide, every shade and shadow perfection incarnate as it graces the velvety of form of this most desirous of greens. A dainty and awe-inspiring beauty, every lush shade bespeaks the inherent grace with which she is gifted - apparent in every nuance of her figure from the filigreed carriage of her slenderly wedge-shaped head, crowned with ornately coiled turquoise headknobs, to the sinuous line that winds its way down the length of her back to the soft spade of her cobalt-kissed tail. The muscles of her shoulders and flanks flow and ripple beneath the sisal-softness of her verdantly hued hide, lending hints of the superb agility with which she moves - lissome and luxurious. Artfully ornate wingsails drape themselves in every warm shade of summertime: Tendrils of braided wisteria beset with shadows of warm olive. Touched with sparkling rivulets in every fathomable shade of oceanic aquamarine, delicately honed wingbones seem to move as slowly breaking waves when extended to reveal tantalizing hints of their exquisite fragility when furled. Softened angles surface at her extremities, enhancing lithe sensuality highlighted with spinners' webs of palest gold that glimmer across her hips, haunches, and even under her tender belly - aureate emblazons superimposing the affluent emeralds of her hide. Faintest blue tinges her elongated tail, a striking compliment echoed in preen-happy talons and a proud neck.

This exquisitely striking lady possesses 0 Turns, 10 months, 0 days at large in the wonderful world, and has grown to a length of 16.6 meters. Her delicate wings shimmer gloriously when they're extended to their full reach of 24.9 meters across.

Ista Weyr Living Caverns> Asixier stands up from his chair as to distract the unknown man. "Yes and I thought Kheri needed a Mindhealer. You sure that you want to do that? I mean there is no way you can get out of the Weyr." Slowly he walks over from behind the table. "Why don't you hand me the knife."

Nimoth is crouched, a growl sounding low in his throat as he stares at the entrance to the living caverns. His eyes are whirling a dark red.

Ista Weyr Living Caverns> Jalinik's too busy sneering his disgust at Asixier, full enough of himself to have forgotten Vesta for the moment. Maybe that's what got him cut by her in the first place. "Don't need no knife to best her or anyone else." Just says that to Kheri, when his free arm's taken from behind. He swings around, aiming a blow at Vesta's head, if he can reach her in that position.

"What's wrong, Genevrath --" Z'vind begins, and then pauses to blink at Nimoth. "You, too?" Kealath then catches their mood and promptly shatters it, rumbling a groaning alert to the weyrling. "What?" he can only say, before turning, and pacing on warily.

Z'vind
Stubby, short but stubbornly black hair sprouts scalp-close from generally clean-shaven features, boyishly tanned with a frail line of stubble to demarcate chin from cheek. His face is highly angular, jaw etched with sly lines of woe or laughter. Grey eyes and clipped chin straggle casually together with the rest of this youth's sturdy, rangy form, long legs claiming a wide stride as an obscure slur marks alto voice.
Ragged mahogany-toned leathers clutch possession at the lank shoulders, mid-length leather trous reaching to his calves. The hide boots on his feet are the same though, as is the Istan Weyrling with its earthy brown thread woven through.

He is 14 Turns, 9 months, 8 days old.

You head through the narrow tunnel and into the bustling living caverns.

Living Caverns - Ista Weyr(#94RJa$)
    Vibrant environs enclosed by smooth stone walls, these caverns are the very heart of bustling Weyr life. The largest is massive and designed to house almost the entire population of the Weyr at once, with tables and benches arranged in perfectly neat rows that run almost the entire length of the half-circle cave. Tapestries are flung from the ceiling, draping down in bright hues of Istan black and orange as well as colorful scenes of past heroics detailing all the fiery glory of Pernese history. Hearths line the walls, at least one of which constantly burning with a pot of stew and a pitcher of klah set there to keep warm.
    Tunnels branch off from these central caverns, leading deeper into various parts of the Weyr. To the east lie the infirmaries, both human and draconic, beyond a small wooden door to minimize the noise that will filter through. West are the kitchens and the storerooms from which emanate delectable smells at nearly all hours of the day or night, drudges bustling to and from with dishes and platters. Stairs lead down into the lower caverns while a man-sized tunnel cuts through the stone and back out to the bowl. Smaller tunnels diverge here and there as well.
Contents:
Kheri
D'kar
Cymber
Vesta
Asixier
Auntie Iza
Obvious exits:
Lower Caverns Stairs     Kitchens     Infirmary      Bowl

D'kar has beens tanding here all along, circling around the man to stand before him, and his countenance is one of sober contemplation, his tall, darkling form a thing almost unnoticeable for the sheer lack of attention he tends to draw to himself. There is a table between him and the man, however, and with a speed that may surprise, the bronzeriderchooses this as his moment to do something, leaping across the table, to attempt to tackle the man around the waist.

Serriena has connected.

Chuckling quietly, Kheri tosses a wink at Asixier, "I was rather looking forward to seeing a full-out fist fight one of these days. An utter shame, considering.. oh.. well.. More pain involved with that. Suffering, true. Lots more enjoyable to watch." A malicious grin twitches on her lips. "Really?" Asked simply with a lift of her brows. "Then why use it? Much better fighting like the man you are. Muscle for muscle, pound for pound." Oh, and she is moving closer to the pair, if she's needed that is. But, really, she can't fight that good at all.

Vesta ducks, the blow only brushing the top of her head and making her eyes cross. Her grip isn't exactly strong, but she manages to twist the man's arm around behind his back and shove it up against his shoulder blades, fingers digging into his wrist with long fingers. You can see her trembling, "I don't have a lover. I have a dragon. Nimoth is MY brown. And he'll have you for lunch, you bloody pirate."

Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Kealath inserts a shuddering thread of fear, alarm, blood-interest into the collective minds, held together by the herdbeast's core that he's recently consumed. << What? >> The images are fuzzy as yet.

Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Didarath is thoroughly confused by whatever it was that Kealath just projected, though the content is enough to agitate him. << What goes on? >>

Serriena looks tired coming up from the lower regions of the Weyr. Both she and the blue hanging from her back are a little paler than normal. Of course as she waalks a little trail of white cloud poofs behind her showing the paleness due to dust. She walks over to the food tables and fills a plate for her and Twilight.

"He won't have the chance with my hands wrapped around your throat you venemous tunnelsnake." Vesta's attacker cries that out with such concentrated hatred of the woman that it lends him strength. Her hold's weak with an injured arm, and he pushes himself backward, using the distraction to dip and sweep his leg violently out in an attempt to catch hers. The knife's been sent flying to strike the wall, and now spins into stillness about ten feet from the struggle. It looks good for him, until D'kar enters the picture. No one could stand up before the bronzerider's bulk, and the trio tumbles to the ground in a tangled mass of limbs.

Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Nimoth roars, << My rider is attacked by a man from her past. A bad man who wishes to hurt her. >>

Ooh! Spilled knife! Kheri scuttles over to get that thing. See? She can be somewhat helpful.

Dragon> Kealath senses that Genevrath's icy tones finally answer, shivered through with sharded bits of crimson and luridly revolving amber. <<He hurts Nimoth's beloved!>> That's all she can vocalize, the rest overlain by cloudy streaks of coalescing anger.

Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Isyrath's mind voice, still touched by the light softness of sleep quickly chills, turning cold, and hard, and, yes, angry, << Mine comes. As do I. >>

D'kar is on top of the man, and oh my shards...while he is a very sober, unemotive induvidual on nthe surface most of the time, right now, his eyes flash with downright anger. "You..." he manages to squeeze out from between clenched teeth, before he pulls the man 's right shoulder up where he has tunic clutched in his fist, and punches the fellow full in the face. Once...twice..three times.

Asixier knows D'kar can handle it, He simple walks over to Kheri and the knife and says "He wont be needing that any time soon." He looks at the weapon in her hands the tip still covered in blood. "Great now the other one who needs a mindhealer has the sharp object." He grins at Kheri.

Kealath> Nimoth creels like a hatchling...well, a lot deeper and louder...and scraps his talons down the side of the bowl next to the entrance to the living caverns.

Cymber loses all her breath as the three fall into a jumble and she loses track of who is who. Doesn't miss that knife though, she darts around and puts herself between any of the combatants and the weapon, though she doesn't pick it up. A smith, one that had tried to help in the first place, takes care of that for her. The woman must stand then, rigidly poised to do.. something.. her eyes wide and yet intensely focused on the scene before her. "Don't kill him, D'kar!" comes about the second punch.

Kealath> From the sky over the bowl, Isyrath wings her way over from the northern sky.
Kealath> Isyrath wings down to a landing.

Z'vind hurries in, still wary. "What--" Half syllable are all that he can do for today, as he arrives just in time to see D'kar's tackle and the tangled mess of fighters. "Hold him!" he can only shout, and approaches the pair -- and its onlookers -- to hover at the fringe. Grey eyes scissor to dark.

Kealath> Casting aside her low-pitched rumbling, Genevrath snakes back her head and cries a shrill and brassy bugle to the arriving queen, then goes back to her frostily furious tramping, circling back and forth before the entrance to the caverns with her eyes a dangerous hue of facetted crimson.

"What the?" Wow Serriena didn't even notice the fight but she does as the combatants go sprawling to her feet. "Hey get out of my way!" she yells. Twilight's eyes start to glow orange red in challenge. Serriena brings back her boot and gives a good sharp kick to the one person she doesn't recognize in the tangle. Or maybe. The kick lands somewhere anyways.

Vesta is flattened against the floor, beneath Jalinik, and she feels each of those punches vibrate through her own body as she struggles to rise. She blinks and tries to clear her vision. She oohs softly as she realizes exactly what has happened and she growls, "Leave some of him for Nimoth."

Kealath> Isyrath trumpets, the sound high, imbued with the anger all the dragons can feel at the attack on Nimoth's lifemate, quickly landing, and settling in amongst the dragons, doing her best to approach Nimoth.

A roll of her eyes goes to Asixier just as Kheri hands the knife off to someone who can handle that proper. "D'kar. Stop. Just /stop/." Yeah! Now she gains that Wingleader tone and everything. Need I mention she moves right towards the toppled (and punching) pair.

Well, needless to say, Jalinik, doesn't look so good right now. The impact of D'kar's larger bulk had knocked the wind from him and strained his ribs. The first punch sent the world spinning and he didn't even feel the second and third. He's hanging limply in the bronzerider's grip now.

Kealath> Llilian heads over from the far end of the bowl.

Kealath> Tavaris heads over from the far end of the bowl.

Asixier decides the attack has received a great enough beating and goes to pull D'kar off of him. "Come on big fellow you can't kill em, That would be wrong. No matter how you look at it."

Kealath> Llilian rushes in from the northern bowl, skirting dragons and the like, as she rushes towards the living caverns, Tavaris close beside her.

D'kar manages to make himself stop, though he holds the man by the shirt, still, as he rises from the fellow's unconscious form. A deep frown touches the bronzerider's hawkish visage as, with one last, contemptuous grunt, he tosses the man to the floor, and looks up to Vesta. "Are you allright?"

"Vesta.." Cymber find that something to do the instant her mind registers the man's stillness. In she darts, hands loosening the flap to the healer's pouch she's taken to always carrying at her side now. Trained she is, if not a member of the craft. "Lie still, you're bleeding all over."

Kealath> Nimoth rumbles softly at his gold clutchsib, and perhaps approaching him isn't a good idea. He continues to scratch at the bowl wall with his talons, making an awful screeching noise.

"Oh good," Serriena skirts the two brawlers as if that's what was bothering her. Now that they are out of her way she makes her own path to a table and sits down. Wow, she's totally calm. Either that or really tired which she looks as she feeds Twilight.

Kealath> Llilian heads into the long tunnel to disappear into the lower caverns.

Llilian comes in through the narrow tunnel from the bowl.

Kealath> T'rrent heads over from the ground weyrs.

Kealath> Tavaris veers away from Nimoth, wincing, and just makes for the caverns.
Kealath> Tavaris heads into the long tunnel to disappear into the lower caverns.

Tavaris comes in through the narrow tunnel from the bowl.

Kealath> T'rrent heads into the long tunnel to disappear into the lower caverns.

T'rrent comes in through the narrow tunnel from the bowl.

Kealath> Kassandra heads over from the ground weyrs.
Kealath> Didarath heads over from the ground weyrs.
Kealath> Kassandra heads into the long tunnel to disappear into the lower caverns.

Kassandra comes in through the narrow tunnel from the bowl.

"/Kill/ him," Z'vind injects deliberately, mop o' hair prickly with the sleep, and the feeding. Not his, but still-- hand ruffles at his head, and he parts a pair of curious weyrfolk to lower his head on Vesta's condition. "Got supplies, Cymber?" He yells at some kids to fetch cloth, bandages anyway. Can't hurt, now.

Kheri disposed of the knife nice and easily, thankyou. Being all calm and stuff right now, unlike D'kar. But, that's beside the point. "Kill him?" Eyes narrow on Z'vind. "And what? You want to lower himself to his level?" A hand motions towards the unconcious one.

T'rrent comes stumbling into the Living Caverns, obvious panic and anger ablaze in his eyes. No time to assess the situation. He stops just inside the door, and bellows in a voice that could wake the dead, "Everybody FREEZE!"

Llilian comes down from the bowl, running down the stairs as quickly as safety, which, actually, she isn't terribly concerned about, allows, Tavaris close behind, coming up short, painfully short, at T'rrent's shout, chest heaving as she tries to breathe.

Tavaris flumps into the nearest chair and just sits there, panting. He chased Llilian here from the beach. Freezing is a great idea.

Kassandra is, by the by, right on T'rrent's heels. She's no idiot, though, The weyrling stays well out of the way, back by the door near Llilian.

Vesta scoots back against the walls, away from the very unconscious Jalinik and rests, eyes closed in pale face, "I'm fine...really. Just a scratch. Oh, D'kar, that was perfect...Faranth that I could have done it myself." Her upper arm, graced in a neatly sliced leather sleeve...well, you might be able to tell it was leather if it wasn't covered in thick, oozing blood. A puddle starts to form under Vesta. She looks up as the Weyrleader enters and raises her right arm in a weak salute.

Kheri was being good. She helped, really! But she does stopdead right from where she is.

Z'vind looks at Kheri, blinking sleep-bleary eyes. "He can't help but freeze," he mutters at the man, then freezes himself, shoulders stiffening with the pressure. Fingers waver near the lot, just in case.

Serriena is too tired to jump at T'rrent's tone. She's too tired to do more than stop. Twilight is shushed with a single stern glance. He even stops eating his food. And that's tough for a growing Firelizard. They both wait to see what T'rrent has to say.

"I've got some, Z'vind." Cymber affords the brownrider an upturned glance at about the moment she sinks to her knees beside Vesta. "Could use some water, and send somebody fast for a real healer." Tersely she speaks, all seamless business, without a single infusion of flirtation to be seen about her. The pouch is loosed, and searched for what she seeks, and though she hears T'rrent's bellow, she just doesn't listen. Not until she's found a wad of clean linen to press against the wound does she even pause to note his entry.

Ok... The Weyrleader's eyes first shoot to Llilian, offering her a nod of recognition for some reason or another. Cymber is the next to recieve a nod from the bronzerider. He points at Kassandra and Llilian. "Go.. Both of you. Get a healer in here right now. Run!" He jogs on over to the injured Weyrling, peering around as he tries to make sense of the situation. "What in Faranth's name happened?"

Dusting off her hands on her tunic, Kheri's gaze rolls over to the Weyrleader. "If you'll excuse me I'll go tend to Zianneth?' Questioning, though that gets cut off, by T'rrent. "Pardon sir, but he up and pulled a knife on Vesta while we were eating." As if that explains much..

D'kar is fairly seethign, still, though that seething has moved to become housed within the rigid frame of his emotionless exterior. Anger still surfaces in tiny, telltale signs, and is still blooming well amidst the chill of his eyes, but the man has been subdued...to put it mildly, and he spares a glance over one shoulder to note the approaching weyrleader and company. A salute is given, before he returns to watchful guard, his eyes lingering upon the unconscious, bloodied man.

Run. Kassandra can run. "C'mon, Llil," she says breathlessly, pointing at the infirmary door. "Someone's gotta be here." Without waiting to see if the goldrider is following her, she dashes off through said door.

Kassandra slips in through the wooden door to the infirmary.

Llilian goes, as ordered, pushing her way through, if she has to, the people gathered in the caverns, trying to get to the Infirmary as quickly as possible, the expression on her face betraying all of her lifemate's anger and upset.

Llilian slips in through the wooden door to the infirmary.

Asixier decided to back track into a nice and quiet corner. His face turns very pale as T'rrents voice hits his ears.

"He's not talking to us. Go ahead and eat," Serriena stuffs her mouth with meatrolls. wilight does the same and they finish their supper quietly watching.

Vesta certainly hopes the others are up to explaining, cuz she's busy trying to keep from being sick. You can see a greenish tinge begin to tinge the paleness this is her usually darkly tanned face. She just leans her head back against the wall and breathes, "Nimoth, shush, baby."

Z'vind notes that "The infirmary's near," but there's little cause to move, so he doesn't. Those who bolted off for water can perhaps be heard at the crowd's edge now, basins sloshing the liquid in the youth's trembling haste. "Got a rope?" he asks D'kar in that same, frozen tone.

Kealath> Nimoth rumbles softly and then croons heartbreakingly, but his talons stop raking the stone wall.

For the first time in a long time, Cymber doesn't have a crisp salute all ready and waiting for the Weyrleader. She uses that wad of bandage for good purpose, pressing firmly against the wound that seeps, spurts, blood from the rent in Vesta's tunic. "Someone came in and attacked her," looks up to her to explain, given her friend's current verdant tint. "He had a knife and he cut her and then D'kar and Vesta beat him unconscious." Quick scenario that one as she nudges her chin to the unconscious form of a man not far away.

Kassandra comes in through the narrow tunnel from the bowl.

Llilian comes out of the infirmary, the wooden door swinging shut behind her.

Kassandra comes pelting back in, a rather harried-looking journeyman Healer on her heels. The blonde skids to a stop, and just points. The journeyman needs no further explanation, sprinting past the weyrling to head for the tumble of people.

Llilian arrives behind the pair, and before she can do anything, Kass points the way, which is probably a good thing, because she's still a bit out of sorts. Better to settle for allowing whomever needs her to send her whereever.

T'rrent listens to the only explanation given, but doesn't really verbally respond. Instead, he kneels quickly beside Vesta, searching for some way he can help the wounded young woman. To Z'vind, he notes, voice completely lacking levity, "No rope. Just..make sure whoever he is doesn't move, alright? I'll deal with him myself." He turns immediately to Llilian again, upon her return, and issues forth the following order: "Get Isyrath to make sure Nimoth stays calm, you understand me? I don't want him freaking out." He scoots out of the way so the healer can have easier access to the wounded.

Cymber backs away quickly, handing off the pressure she's kept on the injury to the more-experienced healer. From the pouch she opens several packets and a vial of salve, her last way to help, comfrey and numbweed and other such remedies that'll be known to the journeyman. Then she finds her knees and then her feet, fading into the edge of the group that's watching.

Asixier wonders why the mysterious man would want to hurt dear Vesta. He moves back to a stool far far far away from T'rrents voice that scares him oh so greatly. He tries to ignore the commotion completely and goes back to his woods.

Llilian moves back to the wall of the cavern, eyes closing, blocking out the scene, blocking out the bodies, everything but the coming task. A curt, "Yes, Weyrleader," is about the extent of the conversation she can manage.

D'kar has moved aside to give those who have come--including the weyrleader--wide enough berth to do what they need to do. A deep breath, and then he looks over to Cymber, eyes lingering for the space of a heartbeat, before he ghosts over to the near wall and leans his back against it, silently watching.

Kealath> Isyrath doesn't shy away, or back, from Nimoth, the anger in her eyes cooling, somewhat, as she focuses on the only slightly smaller brown, her croon turning a bit more gentle, an attempt at comforting.

Taking this as not being needed, Kheri quietly makes her way out of the cavern. Most of the trouble is gone, so why worry now?

Kheri disappears through the narrow tunnel to the bowl.

Kealath> Genevrath ceases her errant stampings, coiling away to her shadowy corner to allow the golden queen better access to Nimoth. She's still angry though, yes, knife-sharp jags of viridian and amber in her eyes as she confines her fury to a rumble that's felt more than heard. No cease comes to the whip-crack snapping of her tail.

The journeyman skids to his own stop next to Vesta, eyeing her arm for a moment before rummaging through his kit for redwort solution and a pad of gauze. Glancing at the weyrling for permission, he begins cleaning the wound gently. "Messy, but not too serious," he pronounces.

It's easy when the man's already down. Z'vind nods to their Weyrleader, and nods again. "Sir," he concedes that word of agreement, and steps slightly to the side as D'kar does.

Now that the healer is here and working, T'rrent is finally able to calm himself down again, closing his eyes for a second while he shakes his head. "Shard it all," he mutters to himself. Deep breath... Good boy. He turns to D'kar after a moment, nodding toward the fallen attacker. "Did you drop him by yourself, Weyrling, or did you have assistance?"

Falina comes up the flight of stairs from the inner caverns.

Kealath> Didarath has calmed considerably from earlier, when he came burbling out of his weyr in a state of high anxiety. Now the blue simply lies flat on the bowl floor, and stares, tail flicking, eyes whirling.

Cymber waits longer, shaking slightly as her wide eyes remain on Vesta's face. Oddly enough, it's that moment that her right hand lifts to brush dampness from the front of her tunic, the remnants of her pre-struggle klah. She finds her own piece of unclaimed wall then, and leans backwards, just watching now.

Vesta finally opens her eyes again, looking down at the blood and the healer and the gauze and winces, "Stupid. I should have been more alert." She looks up at the Weyrleader, "I'm sorry sir, for the mess."

Serriena looks up as Twilight chirps a greeting. Falina is standing in the doorway. She waves the young girl down.

D'kar straightens himself to stand with his usual hands-clasped-behind-the-back form as he addresses the weyrleader. "Vesta was behind him, and perhaps I should have waited for assistance, but I talkled him, sir," he intones. Though his words are slightly apologetic, the tone is not.

Kealath> Nimoth croons softly at Isyrath and settles, tail lashing in the dust of the bowl floor, eyes still red, but whirling slowly, now.

Falina grins at Serriena, then waves and approaches her, "Hello..." she looks around, then whispers, "What's going on?"

"I don't quite know," Serriena shrugs tiredly. "There was a fight. Apparently that man," she points to the injured one. "Attacked Vesta without cause. D'kar saved her. And they both got in my way to sit down. I was so very tired. I kicked one of them but I'm not sure which one because they were in my way."

T'rrent's expression softens considerably at Vesta's words, and he shakes his head. "Oh, don't you dare apologize for this. Not unless you started it.." Which he still hasn't recieved a firm answer on. He turns back to D'kar again, nodding. "I'd like to speak with you in a bit, then, if that's alright? I'd like to get straight in my mind exactly what happened."

The Healer shakes his head, stilling any further motion from Vesta while he works, now swiftly numbweeding and bandaging the slash. "It might need to be stitched, and you've lost a bit too much blood, Weyrling. See me in the infirmary later." He now turns his attention to the fallen, obviously well-beaten man, and his lips thin before he begins to go to work.

Falina hmmmms and frowns. "A f-fight..." Not good. But at least she didn't walk right into the middle of it. "Anything I c-can do to h-help?" she asks, of the room in general...but also trying to keep out of the way.

Kassandra, for her part, simply watches, lower lip caught between her teeth, gaze of concern going between Vesta and D'kar, before sliding over to T'rrent briefly.

Vesta shifts a bit and struggles to stand, pushing herself up against the wall. She nearly slips in her own blood and grimaces. Her eyes follow the healer and her gaze falls on the fallen Jalinik, lip curled back in a sneer.

D'kar inclines his head to the weyrleader, "Certainly, sir," he intones simply, awaiting the time when the man will be ready for him.

Llilian's eyes flicker open, come measure of calm having returned to her face, eyes flickering from Weyrleader, to Tavaris, Kassandra, and finally, Vesta, each in their turn.

Z'vind eyes the Healer and the man, morbidly. Attention subtly shifts to the bronze: rider and weyrling, then to the outer circle. He frowns; keeps it there.

T'rrent stands up at last, then, moving further out of the way to keep from interfering with the healer. He nods to D'kar's response, but doesn't say anything in response to the bronze 'ling. Not yet, anyway, for his attention turns to the healer himself. "Fix this man up as best you can, but for Faranth's sake, keep him restrained. He will not be allowed to leave this Weyr until /I/ have spoken with him." There. /Now/ he speaks to D'kar again. "Alright.. Come with me, if you would? And anyone else who witnessed the attack.." And, with that, he heads for the exit, fully expecting everyone involved to follow.

"The attack or any part of it?" Serriena asks.

T'rrent wasn't expecting to have to clarify on that..but he will. "Anyone who can provide me with /useful/ information about the incident."

D'kar nods, looking to both sides before he again pushes off from the wall and sets into motion, following T'rrent towards the exit. He does stop to wait for Cymber to catch up. mind you.

Asixier stands up and follows T'rrent daring not look the man in the eyes.

Though she's kept quietly to the background, Cymber know peels herself from the wall and runs fingers through her hair, pushing it out of the way as she quickens her pace to draw beside the waiting bronze weyrling. No smile for D'kar, just an upturned flashing of her eyes as she makes to follow after the Weyrleader.

Vesta blinks at T'rrent and steps away from the wall, steeping over the puddle of blood and taking a couple of shaky steps towards the group heading out.

The Healer's lips thin further as ne nods, and salutes briskly to the Weyrleader. A beckoning gets two strong drudges over to his side, and with little ceremony the unconscious man is tied up firmly. The journeyman makes a little gesture, and the drudges pick Jalinik up and haul him off to the infirmary like so much trash. "He'll be kept sequestered, Weyrleader," is the crisp answer.

Well she could have something to contribute. She might not. She saw some, but not all but she stands up anyways to follow. Serriena flashes a smile to Falina. "Be back in a minute or so I guess." Twilight doesn't look happy about leaving the rest of his food but he comes with her hanging from her back.

Z'vind falls into line; falls in stiffly. Oh, and, "Vesta?" he inquires of the weyrling, with quirked brow, then offers his arm. "Steady there," he notes gruffly, in something above murmur.

T'rrent stops just at the exit to count the size of the group behind him. Noting Vesta's presence therein, he shakes his head, lips curling into another rather reassuring smile. "You and I will speak later. I'm sure the healer doesn't want you wandering around too much right now. Get some rest.."

And out they go.

T'rrent disappears through the narrow tunnel to the bowl.

Llilian allows the relevant parties to depart the caverns, before she offers an apologetic, "Excuse me, for just a few moments longer, Tav," before she steps back towards the kitchens, a few words with the staff calling out a small collection of drudges to clean up the mess of blood and sundry.

Serriena disappears through the narrow tunnel to the bowl.
Cymber disappears through the narrow tunnel to the bowl.
Asixier disappears through the narrow tunnel to the bowl.
D'kar disappears through the narrow tunnel to the bowl.
Vesta disappears through the narrow tunnel to the bowl.

You head out through the narrow tunnel to emerge in the bowl.

Southern Bowl - Ista Weyr(#69RJ$)
    Spread out along the larger end of the caldera, this end of the bowl is significantly larger than that which lies just beyond the small inlet of two feet of craggy mountains that creep down to form an incomplete partition. The walls of the ancient volcano, long-since slumbering inactive, spread upward with sheer cliffaces that reach into the sky, their outlines reminiscent of four pointed fingers and a thumb. Activity bustles in this area at nearly all hours of the day with dragons or people coming and going throughout the bowl on various errands.
    Tucked into the southernmost wall are the living caverns, the gaping tunnel that leads within illuminated by the glowbaskets set within; just beside this is a larger entrance that leads to the dragon infirmary. The Hatching grounds are found in this area, with a tunnel a ground level just large enough to allow passage for an egg-heavy Queen and a larger, gaping entrance in the side of the mountain for draconic spectators to enter. Numerous weyrs dot the mountainside and the ground in this area, some darkened and some illuminated from within.
Contents:
Vesta
D'kar
Asixier
Cymber
Serriena
T'rrent
Didarath
Isyrath
Kealath
Marcath
Genevrath
Nimoth
Obvious exits:
Infirmary     Caverns Tunnel     Ground Weyrs      Hatching Grounds     Northern Bowl

Everyone remember how to march? Good, because that's what T'rrent is doing. Out of the Living Caverns, and over toward the Ground Weyrs... All brisk-like.

T'rrent heads into the slightly detached portion of the bowl that houses the ground weyrs.
Serriena heads into the slightly detached portion of the bowl that houses the ground weyrs.
Cymber heads into the slightly detached portion of the bowl that houses the ground weyrs.
D'kar heads into the slightly detached portion of the bowl that houses the ground weyrs.
Asixier follows the group behind T'rrent and the rest.
Asixier heads into the slightly detached portion of the bowl that houses the ground weyrs.

Vesta stumbles out to the bowl on Z'vind's arm and is immediately curled into the tail of a lowly rumbling Nimoth. She leans against him for a moment before disentangling herself, "It alright love...I'll be alright." She leans heavily against Z'vind and nods.

Z'vind leads Vesta in, face grave.

You head over to the slightly detached area of the bowl that houses the ground weyrs and the council room.

Ground Weyrs - Ista Weyr
    Somewhat detached from the rest of the Weyrs, this smaller inlet of the bowl delves back into the side of the mountain to the northeast, creating bare enclosure separated from the bowl at large. Numerous caves freckle the surrounding mountains: The smaller, personal habitations of individual dragons. As barren of greenery as the rest of the Weyr, the ground here is somewhere between coarsely granulated sand and hard-packed stone making it a poor host to any straying foliage.
    Near the center of this demi-bowl is a long, the large tunnel of the council room that cuts back into the depth of the mountains. Nearby is a much larger opening - wide enough for the grandest of gold dragons to pass through easily - that leads into the small nexus of Queens' weyrs. This is where the Weyrwoman and her juniors make their homes. Almost directly across from this large opening is another of nearly the same dimensions, housing the entrance to the guest weyr.
Contents:
Asixier
D'kar
Cymber
Serriena
T'rrent
Obvious exits:
Weyrs     Guest Weyr     Queens' Weyrs      Council Room     Bowl

Kealath> Vesta heads into the slightly detached portion of the bowl that houses the ground weyrs.
Vesta comes over from the bowl.

Oh, what a way to start the day. Well, T'rrent certainly doesn't look like he's in the best of moods, but he's forcibly remaining calm at present, taking several deep breaths as he continues to lead the group on - through the Ground Weyrs, and into the Council Room. Now for the fun part: interrogation.

Serriena heads into the long tunnel to the council room.
T'rrent heads into the long tunnel to the council room.
Cymber heads into the long tunnel to the council room.
Asixier heads into the long tunnel to the council room.
D'kar heads into the long tunnel to the council room.

You follow a long tunnel back to where it meets the council room.

Council Room - Ista Weyr(#86RJ$)
    A perfect bubble cavern, walls and ceiling entirely seamless and rounded smooth, delves back into the walls of the Weyr almost a dragonlength passed the long tunnel from the bowl. Its environs are rich and comfortable, all of them centered around a long stone table surrounded by more than twenty stone chairs. Hangings in the unmistakable hues of each of Pern's Weyrs drape from the walls and ceiling, creating an impressive kaleidoscope of vibrant colors and satiny fabrics. Memorable scenes are depicted on these tapestries, from Moreta to Faranth to lavish images of tropical Ista.
    There is more than enough room in this massive cavern to accommodate every Wingleader and 'second at Ista Weyr. The attentive eye will note that there are exactly enough chairs surrounding the table for each of Pern's Weyrleaders and Weyrwomen to seat themselves, leaving ample room for various Weyrseconds to stand or perhaps find purchase on one of the low, stone benches that rim the walls. Another man-sized tunnel diverges from this cavern, leading not to the bowl but to the large anteroom of the Queens' weyrs where complex tunnels that represent individual habitations can be seen winding back into the mountains.
Contents:
D'kar
Asixier
Cymber
T'rrent
Serriena
Obvious exits:
Queens' Weyrs     Bowl

Vesta comes out of the long tunnel from the bowl.

"Alright, everyone have a seat," says the Weyrleader, releasing a long, flustered sigh as he flops down into his usual chair. "Now, will someone /please/ explain to me what happened? One at a time? I don't care who goes first.." He looks tired, by the way.. Very tired.

Vesta comes in, leaning heavily on Z'vind. She sighs, "Perhaps I should go first?"

T'rrent concedes the floor to Vesta, then, nodding to her request to speak.

"Up sweetie," Serriena says to Twilight. Reluctantly he climbs to her shoulder allowing her to sit in one of the chairs. She also looks tired and waits her turn, sort of paying attention but at times looking as if she'd nod off.

"You should sit down first, Vesta," murmurs Cymber, striding to one of the seats on the opposite side of the table before sinking down into it.

Asixier nods as he sits down on a chair. Noting the fine craftmanship as he sits down in it. He looks at Vesta but /not/ T'rrent.

D'kar moves to one of the seats and lowers himself down into it. He laces fingerts before him on one knee as he watches the others, wondering if anybody is going to speak up, and when. Finally, Vesta speaks, and the tall bronzerider merely listens.

Z'vind nods to the indicated seat, and eases the weyrling in that direction then. He's remained carefully expressionless, besides the crook of distaste at the mouth.

Vesta nods and settles, giving Z'vind a smiles as she half sits, half falls into a chair, "Jalinik was First Mate on the Nightglider. He doesn't like me, and feels as if I've wrong him. This is the first time I've seen him since the night before I came ashore back nearly a turn ago. He tried to sneak up on me with a knife. Only he slipped and missed doing any real damage." She breathes deeply and settles back in her chair, obviously waiting for someone else to either question her or continue the story.

T'rrent nods to Vesta, then, drawing in another deep breath. He holds up his hand to stave off any comments just yet, speaking up himself, instead. "Why does he feel you've wronged him, if you don't mind my asking? If it's something private, then we can discuss it later, if you'd rather."

Vesta shakes her head, "You're all part of this, so you all deserve an explanation. He believed that I should do him...favors. As the only female on the Nightglider, I spent much of my time fending off unwanted advances, but he was...persistant. The night before we blew into Istan waters in the wings of a storm, he was determined. So I defended myself. With much the same results as this." She motions to her arm, "And he felt I deserved the same."

T'rrent's face sours suddenly, but he keeps his anger at bay for the time being, simply nodding at the young woman's words. "Alright.. Thank you for your explanation, Vesta. Z'vind, go ahead and tell me what you saw? And then, get Vesta back to the Infirmary.. Drag her if you have to." Ok, so he's not serious on that last bit - even managing a slight grin. Slight.

Vesta nods and her face sours too, at the mention of the infirmary. But she just settles back for the moment.

Cymber's expression is somber as she lifts her gaze to Vesta's features. But she says nothing, she listens carefully, hands at the edge of the table.

Rumble..is that snore coming from Serriena or the Firelizard? Both of them look like their eyes are closed. Then one of Serriena's eyes opens and proves the rumble was Twilight who curled up on her arm and went to sleep. She doesn't look far off and determining it's not her turn yet, closes the eye again and listens.

Z'vind-- saw? The lad actually looks blank for a long moment, unsuitably so. "We landed in the bowl, and Kealath heard Nimoth's complaining, so I decided to check it out. I went in and saw D'kar tackling--" he pauses, shrugs, name forgotten, "--him. There was a lot of bustle, but the gist of it was that D'kar knocked him out -- Sir."

T'rrent nods to Z'vind, then, as he finishes speaking. "Alright.. Thank you, Z'vind. If you would, please, go ahead and take Vesta back to the infirmary. It looks like I'm going to have to have a talk with the captain of the Nightglider.. Serriena, you're next. What did you see? Same thing?"

Vesta ohs softly, volunteering a bit of information before going off with Z'vind, "Jalinik isn't with a Kestral ship anymore. According to my mother he's a smuggler and a pirate." That said she slides away from the table, looking white as the proverbial sheet.

Wow, blackness. Wait did someone call her name? Serriena forces her eyes open. "Yeah, Z'vind and I are in the same boat..well not really the same boat since he flies and I'm on land and we're not on the beach," Yeah she's tired. And apparently rambles when she's tired but soon enough she snaps back to attention although a little out of focus. Serriena says, "Twilight and I were coming up from cleaning the storage rooms." She moves a bit and dust stirs with her as if to prove the fact. "Anways, I got in, and almost didn't see them except D'kar tackled...what's his face.."she substitutes not picking up on the name even though Vesta just stated it. "And they rolled right in front of me on my ways to the tables. Twilight got excited and upset by it. I was hungry and tired and so was he. I'm afraid I lashed out kicking one of them although I still don't know if it was D'kar or what's his name I hit." Serriena shrugs indifferently, her eyes drooping a bit. "And then you came in and told us to freeze and that's all I can remember." Good tale!

Z'vind snaps back, back to Vesta, T'rrent. He nods again, sharply; salutes. "Holdless, I presume?" says he to the girl, turning a wrist to help her to stand. "I served on a ship once, and I know for a fact that some 'mates can be unsavoury, to say the least. Excluding you, Vesta."

Vesta smiles weakly at Z'vind and excepts his help, leaning against him, "To the infirmary, clutchsib."

Oooh, this doesn't bode well for Jalinik, that's for sure, the Weyrleader's expression souring once more at Vesta's words.. Again, he calms himself, though, turning to Serriena as she speaks. He nods at her words, then, offering another soft, "Thank you, Serriena. You're dismissed, as well, then. Asixier, you're next..."

Z'vind turns his heels to out, arm supporting Vesta's weight.

You head out the tunnel to emerge in the bowl.

Vesta comes out of the tunnel from the council room.

Kealath> Jalani heads over from the far end of the bowl.

Serriena comes out of the tunnel from the council room.

Serriena stumbles out of the Council room. Okay she's about to fall over. Aright self and walk straight. Nope not too tired to walk. Okay maybe a wee little as she zigzags out the door, a blue firelizard sleeping on her arm.

Serriena heads back out to the larger part of the bowl.

Kealath> Serriena heads over from the ground weyrs.

Kealath> Jalani strides across the bowl, looking quite distracted.

Kealath> Nimoth rumbles softly, head on forearms staring at the groundweyrs.

Kealath> Almost there. Zig zag. Oops don't trip over any of the dragons. Sleepy. Serriena looks almost a walking disaster. Her eyes are half lidded shut and she is squinting to make out shapes and keep herself from blanking out and sleeping right in the middle of walking. Strange. "Hello lovely Isyrath." she lifts her arm somewhat slowly and waves once she's past the dragon. Each dragon is given a nod, very slowly. And then she's at the Living Caverns! YAY! and she's not fallen asleep yet!

Kealath> Serriena heads into the long tunnel to disappear into the lower caverns.

Asixier comes out of the tunnel from the council room.

Asixier walks in quickly from the council room and goes over to Vesta. "I'm sorry, I didn't react faster, I still think It was my fault he attacked you." He frowns at her.

Kealath> Jalani heads into the slightly detached portion of the bowl that houses the ground weyrs.

Jalani comes over from the bowl.

Jalani dashes across the bowl, at a full run. "Vesta.. what happened? It wasn't one of the weyrlings was it?"

Vesta shakes her head as she rests a bit before going on, "Don't worry about it, Asixier. I should have been more alert." She looks up and salutes Jalani with her right hand. Odd since she's left handed, "No ma'am. Old first mate."

Jalani salutes Vesta and frowns. "Your old first mate? What in shards name happened around here?"

Z'vind starts steering Vesta on like it's nobody's business. His pace has quickened, at least, but not past the assistant weyrlingmaster. "To the infirmary--" he mutters, pausing to salute Jalani. A nod for Asixier, and Zar still looks a trifle disturbed. "Vesta got attacked, and D'kar downed the man."

Asixier nods and Vesta and then continues his walk towarard the bowl.

Asixier heads back out to the larger part of the bowl.

Jalani frown deepens. "What are you doing, standing then, you injured, Vesta? Get yourself into the infirmary, pronto!"

Vesta nods towards Z'vind and looks pale and tired, "Weyrleader is in the Council Chambers with everyone." That's to Jalani. Then she leans on Z'vind and they move out.

You head back over to the bowl proper.

Southern Bowl - Ista Weyr(#69RJ$)
Obvious exits:
Infirmary     Caverns Tunnel     Ground Weyrs      Hatching Grounds     Northern Bowl

Vesta heads over from the ground weyrs.

Ahh, and there's Kealath, sitting there together with the other weyrling dragons. There's one at his lee, for what warmth hide can radiate, and he crooks a paw on the stone floor. "Kea," Zar nods to his 'mate, spares another for Vesta's brown, then checks on her.

Vesta smiles up at Z'vind, "I'll be fine. I think I might need those stitches, though." The bandage is beginning to turn a dark red. Nimoth croons softly, eyes still tinged with red, but he's calmed considerably.

Genevrath has shifted her position from the living caverns' tunnel to yet another of the bowl's entrances. From the overhanging shadows outside the ground weyrs, she observes with regained inner quiet. Gone are the angered speckles of lurid crimson from her eyes, they are gentle now as she nudges her wedge-head forward and croons softened support for her clutchsibling and his rider. Hasn't stopped the tail-twitching though, it's oddly sensual, or would be if she wasn't so concerned.

Z'vind's eyes steel, and he reaches down to awkwardly pat Vesta's fingers. A hint of pink taints his cheeks, crinkles his brows for a moment, and he smiles with effort. "I certainly hope so, or he would get what he wanted." And that's the undesirable consequence. "C'mon, the healer's waiting."

Vesta nods and grimaces, "To the healer then."

You head through the narrow tunnel and into the bustling living caverns.

Living Caverns - Ista Weyr(#94RJa$)
    Vibrant environs enclosed by smooth stone walls, these caverns are the very heart of bustling Weyr life. The largest is massive and designed to house almost the entire population of the Weyr at once, with tables and benches arranged in perfectly neat rows that run almost the entire length of the half-circle cave. Tapestries are flung from the ceiling, draping down in bright hues of Istan black and orange as well as colorful scenes of past heroics detailing all the fiery glory of Pernese history. Hearths line the walls, at least one of which constantly burning with a pot of stew and a pitcher of klah set there to keep warm.
    Tunnels branch off from these central caverns, leading deeper into various parts of the Weyr. To the east lie the infirmaries, both human and draconic, beyond a small wooden door to minimize the noise that will filter through. West are the kitchens and the storerooms from which emanate delectable smells at nearly all hours of the day or night, drudges bustling to and from with dishes and platters. Stairs lead down into the lower caverns while a man-sized tunnel cuts through the stone and back out to the bowl. Smaller tunnels diverge here and there as well.
Contents:
Asixier
Serriena
Ranwen
Llilian
Kassandra
Tavaris
Auntie Iza
Obvious exits:
Lower Caverns Stairs     Kitchens     Infirmary      Bowl

Vesta comes in through the narrow tunnel from the bowl.

Serriena waves. She straightens even further. Ah someone to talk to. Must move legs. One then the other. She walks toward Ranwen. Conversation would be nice. Keeps one awake. Unfortunately she doesn't see someone's leg sticking out in the aisle as she winds between tables. She trips and goes sprawling into.. Llilian's lap of all things, clutching the gold weyrling's legs for support from falling all the way to the ground. "Whoops," Serriena smiles up at Llilian. "I'm sorry," she apologizes.

Vesta slips in through the wooden door to the infirmary.

Z'vind hurries Vesta in, keeping shy of the crowd. Straight down to the infirmary.

You slip into the quiet infirmary, letting the wooden door swing closed behind you.

Infirmary - Ista Weyr
    Hushed and subdued most of the time, the infirmary at Ista Weyr is actually subdivided to play host to both draconic and human patients. The innermost area lies through a narrow tunnel and is littered with cots, shelves, bottles, glows, and all manner of Healer-friendly items. Easy access to the living caverns where food can be brought to and from for those laid up in here, they try to maintain some cheeriness with a few hopeful tapestries flung on the walls for color. A few desks are to be found in here, usually covered over by a mess of hides and bottles, notes and prescriptions.
    The outer portion, which is far more cavernous and significantly larger, opens onto the bowl with a wide arch that allows passage for even the greatest of dragons. Easily large enough to house five or six belabored beasts, there is almost always one patient to be found here with ailments ranging from simple constipation to serious muscle strains to injured limbs. Hearths burn in either of the infirmaries at all hours, usually cooking some potent and foul-smelling concoction in small pots that let the scents invade unwary nostrils.
Contents:
Vesta
Obvious exits:
Living Caverns     Bowl

The same hearths and concotions, the same wizened Healer mans the infirmary -- Z'vind hands Vesta in, and crosses his arms uneasily near the row of cots. Infirmaries make Zar uncomfortable. Don't ask him why.

Vesta is settled and that soaked bandage is removed. More numbweed is slathered on and stitches are made. Vesta simply lies there, eyes closed, breathing a bit shallow. She might be asleep for all she moves, but a murmured answer to the healer belies that assumption. A mug of something vile is shoved into her hands, but she doesn't sip it right away. The healer gives her a stern look and then turns away.

Z'vind hovers, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He stills, and approaches Vesta briefly. Just looks at her for one moment.
Vesta is propped up on some pillows, still holding the untouched mug. She opens her eyes to look at Z'vind and smiles, "I don't like being drugged. This has fellis in it, or I'm a drunken wherry."

Z'vind thought she was asleep, you see. "Fellis is... good. Helps you sleep," he nods, attempting half a grin. He gets a quarter of the way there. "--and heal faster." And as swiftly, he utters the words: "I'll come back to visit you -- later? It's better to rest right now." A fleeting expression flits across his face before it tones down to inscrutable again. Hurt begets shyness.

Vesta ahs softly and nods, looking down at her mug, "Alright..."

T'rrent comes in from beneath the large, arching entrance, leaving the bowl behind him.

Z'vind leaves, passing T'rrent with a salute. "Later, Vesta. Weyrleader." And he's gone.

You head out beneath the massive entrance to the bowl.

On, over, all aboard! You approach Kealath, the brown offering a descending foreleg for an extra step up, then drop into your customary cave on the broad neck.


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