Hannah is Searched

Log file from Ht-hannah.

1/30/00 11:32:36 PM

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.

Tucked into a glowlit niche are Kate, Sin, Brannt, Tangaloor, Kelpie, Azule, Yum-Yum, Yakshini, Zephyr, Shaber, Cosentia, Nocturno, Fandango, Sun, Lox, Tigger, Heaven, Loch Ness, Lava, Pix, Miki, Oren, Bow-Wow, Kynance, and Jaibyrd.

You see Fantastic Triple Layer Bubbly Surprise, Tsunami Banner, Old Auntie sit-by-the-fire, Fluffernut, Zekk, Kali, Azlan, Siai, and Sunny Morning Stuffed Flit here. Yssandra and Qarien are here.

Obvious exits:

Bowl Kitchens Inner Caverns Crafting Area

Areiah arrives from deeper in the Weyr. Hynolonie is carried in by Areiah. Yssandra peers at the other people. And then peers again.

Yssandra then focuses upon the Knot of Areiah and gulps.

Hannah follows in behind Areiah and Lonie, making sure to keep close to her foster mother. Big eyes survey the caverns, making sure there's not any scary nan—er people out and about. Also, the 'brat looks for any extra cookies or bubblies, she does have a sweet tooth. Saranwrapping herself to her Mother, the small 'brat makes sure to slip her hand into Areiah's.

Be afraid. Be very afraid. The late-night caverns have been invaded by a bubbling goldrider and her children, all three hunting for dinner of somesort. Areiah shifts Hynolonie against her hip with the faintest of grins, hugging the little one close 'fore turning, eyes skipping to Hannah, next, as she squeezes the young girl's hand. "Everyone here?" Ask a silly question.. well, here's to hoping that doesn't work on Pern. "Good. Dinnertime, then. Oh! G'evening," she greets both Yssandra and Qarien. Polite, too!

Alfi walks in from the Central Bowl.

Yssandra shuffles over towards Qarien. So maybe Qarien is a stranger? There is a Weyrwoman Stranger, and Weyrwomen are high ranking folk… and Qarien is a fellow Brat!

Spur rides the air currents like runnerbeasts in from the Central Bowl.

Qarien waves merrily to Areiah. "Hi, hi! Have some candidate soup! Made with real candidates!"

Elle saunters with the best of 'em in from the Central Bowl.

Pyrah traipses in from the Central Bowl.

Yssandra stares at Qarien. "A… a… non-Brat!"

Hannah giggles softly at her mother, still staying close, but feeling less intimidated. After all, she has a BigBadMother to protect her now too, right? Even though her BigBadMother is shy as well, this isn't something the girl things about. Seeing the crowd, the shy girl gets even more shy and literally /clings/ to her Mohter. Tugging on Arieah's sleeve, she looks like she has something to say..

Yssandra points to Areiah accusingly, as if being a Non-Brat is an Evil thing, but then quickly retracts the pointing finger and looks for a place to hide…

Qarien glances over at Yssandra. "Well, it is."

Alfi dashes in, dripping thoroughly, offering a silly wave to all in the caverns. Including the Weyrwoman. With nothing else to say, she advises, "Do /not/ go outside." Then, with the sound of other dripping behind her, she turns and offers a very…wet…smile to Elle and Pyrah. "Shall I get towels?"

Yssandra slowly blinks… and then giggles. For no apparent reason.

Elle continues to shiver as pulls back the hood of her jacket, then proceedes to peel the sopping thing off. Dripping wet bangs, slashes of blue-black against her dusky skin cast a rivulet or two of water down flushes cheeks, "Yeah, this is definatly High Reaches. Abominal weather and /cold/." *shiver-shiver*

Hynolonie eyes the people and half buries her face against Areiah, in efforts of not drawing too much attention. She chews on her lower lip and twirls a finger in Areiah's hair as she looks about, growing more and more timid the entire time. Lonie then whispers in Areiah's ear, something to the affect of.. "Can i have a meatroll.. " before going back to her people staring.

Alfi nods. "You get used to it. I'm surprised it's not snow." Searching the room with her eyes for towels, she remarks, "You should have heard us complain at Ista when we came to look at the clutch." A wet chuckle. "Whining brats…it's hooooot!"

"Candidate soup?" Interest piqued, the kid-crowded Areiah sidles her way Qarien-ward. Hmmmmm. But new arrivals come, and with new arrivals must go greetings. "Hullo, hullo - little wet out, eh?" Grin broadens, bright and welcoming, and she bows as best she can from her place. "High Reaches' duty to you. C'mon in and dry off a little, there's hot klah on the hearth." There's /always/ hot klah on the hearth. It's the snow weyr. "Oh, of course, Lonie.." And 'round the 'rider goes, making for the meatrolls.

Qarien beams and lifts up his bowl. "Yes, it's made out of candidates. Have some!" This is offered to one and all. Come on, try it, you'll like it …

"Cold," Pyrah agrees morosely as she crowds into the caverns a half-step behind Elle. "Too cold." The Istan woman nods cordially to the unknown people about the cavern before she rewards Alfi with a beam. "Towels? If it's not a problem, of course.."

Hannah leans up to whisper to her foster-mum, her voice soft, "There are a lot of people.." she begins, "..Mother.." Stuttering, she doesn't finish her sentence, but merely stays in her spot, glued to the goldrider's side, her big green eyes blinking rapidly, her crooked teeth worrying her lower lip.

Yssandra further hides in her corner, looking at the Weyrwoman with suspicion and wary… uh… suspicion. Yssy isn't the most poetic of Weyrbrats.

Elle dashes her fingers through her wet bangs, sniffling with a reddened nose. She watches after Alfi and her towel-gathering, but is interrupeted with Areiah's welcome. Greenrider bobs her head, "Greetings, ma'am." And with that, she is off to the hearth, more in looking fr some mulled cider."

Alfi sniffs at Qarien. "I'll pass. Warm klah seems better." Turning back to the Istans, she says, "Not a problem at all." Heading towards the inner caverns for a moment, she adds, "Another non-problem is the cookies. Help yourselves…" She's normally cautions about that with Weyrbrats about, but wet guests should be treated nicely.

Through a bit of trial and error, Elle manages to locate a half-full pitcher of cider, lukewarm but welcome all the same. Quickly, a mug is poured, and she is glancing to Pyrah, more more precisely at Pyrah's clothes…then to the clothes of the others about, a quite obvious critcally narrowed eye.

Hynolonie grins slightly, but only for her mum to see, and waits expectantly for her delicious meatroll. SHe just knows its going to be delicious, with out having any. Large gray eyes surf over the crowd and pick out faces for her long logs of notes.

Maleah arrives from deeper in the Weyr.

Yssandra is currently hiding from all the High Ranking Visitors, but shuffles over to Qarien out of boredom. Qarien has just been made Designated Ping-Ponger, joy."Candidate soup?"

Pyrah pushes a wet strand of flame-bright hair behind her ear as she complains quietly to her companion, "I don't see why this weaver's so much better than the ones at the Weyr..we could've just gone to the Hall, you know." Attention shifts over to Areiah, then, and she quirks a genuine smile while shuffling after Elle. "Thanks, thanks. I don't visit nearly as much as I should. It's always an..experience to come to the Reaches." A cold one.

Areiah clutches Hannah's hand tight, and tries to refrain from staring at the girl in silent, openmouthed surprise for too long. She manages not to gawk, too, and eventually she stoops, kisses the youth's forehead and whispers some promise of everything being all right. Straightening up again to fetch a meatroll from the tray at her back, she offers it to Hynolonie with a smile and a wink, slowly edging her way toward a seat for herself and her girls. "You're here to see Mikra?" Sable brows raise Pyrah-ward, and the small brunette stifles a grin, but it takes work.

Alfi returns with an armful of towels, looking a bit damp from her own dripping, but plenty drying enough. Setting them down on the table first, she reaches over a chair to hand one to each of the Istans, wrapping a towel around her own shoulders last. Bigger climate change for them. Actually, rain's warmer than snow. Good. But she's a bit curious about one thing, "To pick a night to visit…you picked the worst weather we've had in a while I must say."

Elle ponders a moment, finger running along the rim of her mug, "Mikra… is that the name?" Her lips quirk from one side to the other, "I can't recall it for the life of me… I only know that this person makes dresses to-die-for with the most vibrant colors.. What was that name… Mikra?"

Hannah watches the newcomers from behind Areiah, her big emerald eyes peeking around her mother every so often. Once her mum finds them a seat, she leans into Reia's shoulder, keeping her face hidden from view, her hair slipping over her left eye, the braids about to fall down. Whispering to Lonie, she asks of her sister, rather shyly and very very softly, "Can I have a small piece?" Not too terribly hungry herself, but Lonie's meatroll is sending off delicious odors.

Alfi nods. She knows her Weyrfolk. "The weaver is Mikra. Lemme guess…here to get some rain gear," she jokes.

As soon as Areiah finds a seat, Lonie grabs her meatroll and scurries under the table of all places, munching happily as she peers out at all the strange people. Eventually, after a while of starying, She tugs at Areiah's trouser leg, cause she's got a question.

Pyrah's brow knits as she considers. "Mikra?" She eyes Elle a moment, snagging a mug of her own with frosty fingers. "I thought you said it was a man." The Steward is notable, however, for forgetting important details. "And I don't /want/ dresses," she reminds the greenrider in what's an age-old dispute. "Can't work around the storage caverns in those things, can I? It's got to be pants."

Pyrah accepts one of the towels, too, with a grateful smile and a murmured, "Thanks."

Elle casts Alfi quite the shrewd glance as she reaches for a towel, using it to pat lightly at her soggy bangs, about her red-tanted face. "Pyrah , here, is in dire need of new clothing. Just look at the poor girl." And with that, the greenrider tosses a hand in the poor, indicated offendee, "Absoltuly hideous." her head shaking lightly from side to side.

Alfi smiles again, a little less wetly now. "Mikra is a man." She holds back a minute snicker at that reminder. "My guess is that he may be asleep now, though. It is kind of late. And anyone sane should really be asleep in this weather now." Not meant as an insult. No. Alfi is more insane—she was sitting out in it! "Hideous? I wouldn't say that…just worn out."

"Leathers to-die-for, too," Areiah quips, freeing a pair of fingers to tug at the hem of her own cobalt jacket. "His work is stunning. His loomside manner leaves.. ah.. something to be desired. But he's charming nonetheless." Pyrah's comment brings laughter, light and distinctly amused; "Oh! He's definitely a man. He's also definitely the one to ask if you're in need of new clothes, too." True-blue eyes slide toward the girl under the table and she tilts her head. Mmm?

Elle nods appreciatively to Areiah, "And if what you are wearing are any indication?" Keenly narrowed eyes look Arieah from head to toe, smiling plainly, "See, Pyrah…you do have fine legs to show off in some tight fitting leather -or maybe a slit dress? Istans are known for there clothing -or lack thereof."

"I am /not!/" Pyrah heatedly responds after a sip — gulp — of klah. "I like what I've got just fine." She sniffs. "Even got this set last year, Elle, because you told me my coveralls were ugly and baggy and completely un-feminine." A faint blush touches the woman's cheeks, then, and she gamely responds, "Then maybe it's him." She casts a glance towards Elle, querying innocently, "Or was it a girl?"

Hannah listens to the conversation, one hand unconsciously going to her mouth so that her teeth could shred yet another nail on her poor, nibbled on fingernails. Big eyes glance from Elle to Pyrah, to Elle again with a hint of curiousity and quite a bit of shyness. Whispering up to her mum, "Mother.. /who/ are they?" she adds with a surreptitious point at the women accompanied by a shy half-glance from 'neath her moon-pale lashes.

Hynolonie looks up and grins.. wrinkling her nose. "Why is those peoples so.. brown? Do they paints themselves?" SHe wrinkles her brow up and sticks her meatroll back in her mouth, getting her hide and charcoal ready.

Elle chuckles faintly as Pyrah goes quiet, presumedly to sulk. Flashing eyes alite upon the pointing girl, then about to Alfi, "Mikra… could very well be the one I was thinkg of.. -I'll be sharded that I can't recall the name for sure though." Elle is /really/ bad at names, as usual.

Alfi shakes her head a little, amused. As with hair, clothes are not Alfi's area of expertise. Basically, if it fits, and it's comfortable, it's good. Huh, her own clothes probably look dumb to the eye of someone fashionable. But does she care? Naw. "I think you must mean Mikra," she tells the greenrider. "He'd probably see you about an order tomorrow."

Elle continues to look after Alfi, "Well, tomorrow doesn't do me… or actually Pyrah any good what-so-ever." Her dark lips purse and twitch from one side to the other, "You could use some new clothes too, girlie." Ah, as unabashed as ever. "Far to pale for your coloring. High Reaches coldness doesn't do much for a person's tan. Ista, that is the place to be."

Areiah gives a lopsided grin and reaches down to gently tousle Hynolonie's hair. "I'll explain later, love," she promises, and then answers Hannah's question, albeit indirectly; "I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch your name?" Although whom she's asking that of remains to be seen. There are a few people she doesn't know.

Alfi shrugs. "It may not be a good idea to wake the weaver…My clothes?" She looks down at them. "New? I guess you're right…" Alfi /can/ recognise threadbare. "Pale?" Complexion isn't something Alfi thinks about much, either. Sunburn is bad, basically. "Ista?" Maybe the cold is getting to her…her thoughts are falling apart.

Elle blinks back to Areiah, "Oh, my pardon, ma'am. Elle, rider of green Larisseth of Ista Weyr." She one more catches sight of the young, near white-haired girl, "And another with a High Reaches complexion. You all need some time in a place more warm and /South/ than here."

Hannah blinks at the two women as her mum asks the question the girl herself longed to know. They do look different; tipping her head to the side, she examines themfrom behind her Areiah-sheild that isand wonders what it must be like where they come from. Gotta be hot, definitely. Pushing her hair back onto the crown of her headonly for it to fall down againshe cuddles back into Areiah's side, giving the new comers sidelong, shy glances, her cheeks suffused slightly with color.

Neola arrives from deeper in the Weyr.

"Maybe we should just leave, then, if this Weaver-person's busy," Pyrah suggests, recovering from her funk to beam sweetly at the greenrider. She downs the last of her beverage, and eyes the pitcher center-table thoughtfully.

Hynolonie scootches up a little more towards the fringes of the table, always keeping some part of her body in contact with Reia's feet. She pulls out one sheet of hide, then another, taking notes on each.. one.. incomprehensible.. then other, childscript.

Alfi's eyebrows go up. "You want to go back out in that? Between while you're wet? Um, have fun…" She thinks back a few hours…that girl who came back wet and frozen, had hitched a ride from a rider after swimming at Ista. Hypothermia is bad.

"Tell me about it," the goldrider replies, grin broadening. "Spring is supposed to be /warm/." And then; "Areiah, lifemate to Ysbryth. These are my girls - Hynolonie, under the table, and Hannah, hiding." She's teasing, honest, and twines an arm about Hannah's waist to wordlessly tell the girl as much. "I think the Weaver's gone off to bed for the night, but I can leave him a note, if you like? A wake-up call would probably be a bad idea." Understatement of the Year award goes to..

He does sound interesting to meet. ;) now /that/ could be funny RP! Neola yawns a little as she makes her way into the caverns, stopping to rub her eyes a little then blink as she notices the crowd, "Whats happenin'?" She asks, perhaps just a little too loudly, but she wants to know. "Anything good?"

Elle smirks as she looks back to Pyrah, "Well, there is this one Weaver near the Weyr back at Ista… He works pretty good with sisal and leather…" She continues to muse, a glance to Alfi, "Thats what jackets are for, girl." She glances to Areiah, "Well met, Areiah… Hynolonie… Hannah." Her eyes remain on the last one named, as she speaks to Areiah, "Oh no… we could always come back another time."

"I'm Pyrah," the sulking woman introduces, just in case it hadn't been caught before. "Ista Weyr's Steward. Well met, Areiah, Hynolonie, Hannah." She rattles off the names before quirking a grin for the towel-bearer. "Not particularily, but I don't want new clothes," she confides, slanting a grimace Elle's way. "She's making me, see. Plus, it's cold here."

Hannah peeks out around her Mum's chest, her big green eyes blinking shyly, her pale hair hanging messily over her earshe never can keep it neatand waves two little fingers at the women before burying her head again. Peeking up at Areiah, her cheeks are rosy and clings back to her mum's arm, quite like saranwrap—Hannahwrap? Meeting people is /scary/.. Blinking at the Istan folks, she whispers very lightly, "But new clothes are fun.." with a shy glance through her lashes at the barely visible women seen from around a MotherSheild.

Alfi gets it. Jackets. Of course. Oh…"I'm Alfi, Assistant Nanny." She pauses now. Is the title missing something. With a joking grin, she adds, "Un-rider of Invisible Nonexistanth. Well met."

Elle snaps her attention back to Alfi, "Did you say nanny?" Oh, there is definatly interest there, "Take care of many kids, girl… I mean Alfi?" She takes another sip of her quickly cooling cider, free fingers flicking her drab bangs in some attempt to gether bounce out of them.

Alfi nods. "Nanny. Assistant, but there's enough to deal with." She beams at the number of brats still in the cavern. "I really do like it, even though they're everywhere all the time." There's also the added perk of the sweetstick stash. And the cookies. One of which she picks up from a mostly-empty plate and starts munching.

Hynolonie is definately glad that no one stoopedunder the table to spy her out.. and stays there in relative bliss and ignorance. She relishes writing her notes about Mikra and white skins and hii-po-ferm-eeeaaah. She munches until she runs out of meatroll. (cue Mission IMpossible Music.) with a flourish, young Lonie peeks out, preparing to make a run.

Pyrah grins amiably at the hiding Hannah - and Areiah, as she's currently the hiding place - as she refills her mug with the klah pitcher located upon her table. "You like new clothes, do you?" The Istan pulls a face. "I don't like having to get measured and things. And I think my old stuff's just fine, although /she/ " She jabs a thumb towards Elle " doesn't think so." She blows lightly across her mug to cool the steaming liquid before taking a tentative sip. "Ever gone to the Weaverhall?"

Elle raises her dark eyebrows, "Maybe too many to deal with?… perhaps three would be just right, eh?" Oh yeah, she is most definatly getting somewhere with this. "So, Alfi… ever wanted to visit Ista?"

Hannah peeks out around Areiah again, and gasps softly, looking a bit surprised. Blushing, she stutters softly, very shyly, "But.. new clothes.. they're fun.. and rare." Blinking owlishly at Pyrah, her eyes seeming to dwarf her thin face, she quickly hides behind her Mom again. Pyrah gets another peek though, as curiousity overcomes /some/ of Hannah's shyness. Seing another peeker, Lonie gets a curious look as well as her sister wonders what the girl is about to do..

Alfi shakes her head. "Me?" She thinks they're talking to her. "I've never been to the Weaverhall. New clothes aren't my biggest joy in life." She hopes Elle won't be displeased for that remark. Looking at the greenrider, she addresses, "I've been there a few times actually. My friend Nalisa lives there, and I've visited her. I also managed to get a ride down to see the last hatching and to look at the most recent clutch. Never actually spent a considerable amount of time there. Might be interesting."

Hynolonie peeks out once more before scurrying across the floor towards another table, systematically making her way over to the table where the drudges keep the hot fresh meatrolls. She dives under the table and pulls the table cloth back into place to make sure no one was watching her. There, she rests on her pillow for a while, till she thinks things have settled down.

Zory blinks in from ::between::!

"Maybe that's true," Pyrah admits. "I suppose I'll find out soon enough. Elle's set on making me get new things." Things other than bland coveralls and durable trous — /pretty/ things. Show-offy things. "Want some klah?" she offers brightly, nodding towards the pitcher. "It's good. Probably because it's cold. Klah and cold weather always go together."

Elle nods vacantly, her attention seemingly elsewhere as she sips at the last portion of her cider. "Nalisa, I know her… I think I even owe her a ride on Lari now that I think about it." She blinks, her 'far-away' look dissappearing in a flash, "A trip to a weaver is certainly in order… that is a fact."

Alfi smiles. "Owe her a ride…That sounds like something Nali might get out of someone." And once again, the Weaver comes up. She's pretty sure they're talking to her. "May I ask why you're so concerned about me getting new clothes as well?"

Hannah turns to Areiah, "Can I have some," she asks in a near whisper, and then peeking out at Pyrah and nods vigoruously, only to blush and disappear again. Watching Hynolonie dash for her meatroll gives the girl some courage to peek out and smile shyly at Pyrah and ask, "How long are you staying at the 'reaches?" Eeep! She talked.. time to hide behind Areiah again.

Pyrah curiously eyes Hynolonie's table a moment before she returns attention to Hannah. "Not long, I think," she informs. "We just came to see about the weaver up here. But we'll probably take a trip to the Istan Hall since he's not avaliable." Fingertips nudge the klahpot away from her, and towards Hannah as she inquires, "Ever been there?"

Elle glances at the young woman, now going over her from head to toe, "'Cause I loathe seeing anyone not look as fine as their potential. My sister, Kylis, I was always yelling at her to dress better. You now.. Alvi, " Was she purposely mispronouncing the name? "You have a fine, if not slight figure that should be flaunted to its upmost… especially your eyes. Maybe we should get you into a dark purple… or a rich sienna…" Greenrider trying to play dressup doll? You bet.

Hannah knaws on her lip before peeking 'round Areiah again, before saying quite softly, "Once. Lylia and her Druseth took me there, but we didn't get to stay long. It was /hot/.." Offering Pyrah a shy grin, she adds, "We were gonna go see the eggs, but.. we had to come back afore we could."

Alfi grins stupidly…"Purple? I don't particularly like purple…" She caught the mispronunciation, all right, but lets it pass. This /is/ a bit of an odd situation, random Istan greenrider giving her fashion advice. "I personally like blue better," she notes, "but you're probably right."

Areiah * sorries and hates to do this, but hte lagmonster is eating me alive. Pretend Areiah's just hiding Hannah and playing mommy and all that good stuff. I'll sneak back in if it improves. Cable modems are not all they're cracked up to be. :P

Areiah goes home.

Inaho> Areiah comes home.

Elle *thwaps* the table with the flat of her hand, "Yes. A dark blue… its settled then. We shall go." And with that, the greenrider erupts from her seat and looks to start for the door, except for a quick glance about for her jacket, totally heedless of the others or their intentions.

"Lylia? Haven't met her before."Pyrah mulls. Eyes widen slightly, then, and she repeats in mock-horror, "You haven't seen the eggs yet? I'd thought everyone'd stopped by to see them." She slants a brief glance towards Elle before offering, "You could come back with us, if your mum says it's okay, to see the eggs. We'll make a stop at Weaver, too, I think, and you can give me support while I get poked with pins.." She trails off, peering after her ride. "Elle! Wait! We've got room for one more, right?"

Alfi stares at Elle, once again surprised at the forcefulness of something like getting new clothes. "Now? Right now? In the middle of a dark and stormy night?" (Hee.) "Whatever you say."

Hannah blinks at Elle's thwap on the table and hides again behind her Mother. Nibbling on another fingernail, she smiles a shy smile at Pyrah and with a nod from Areiah, stands up, scuffing her bare feet. "I really do want to see the eggs.." is murmured quietly though with a touch of fear caused by her painful shyness. Gulp. But clothes get her attention and like a normal girl a spark of excitement comes into her eyes, "Clothes are fun, ma'am. And can be so pretty.." is said softly, almost longingly.

Elle hesitates at Pyrah's words, "What? Eh?" With her jacket it mid-heave to be yanked on, she glances from one person to the next, "Hrm… four. Well, /you/," and she gestures to Hannah, "Don't look like you wiegh much… nah, Lari won't mind. Okay, we can stop by the Weyr before the Weavers. Grab our jackets and we'll be off."

Alfi shrugs. Yes, she is definitely going /now/. Picking up her jacket from the back of a chair, she puts it on, wondering if it is of a satisfactory style and color or not. Approaching the doorway, she peers out with a grimace. "Oy." Weather can be evil.

"Well, come on. There's a gold egg in Serath's clutch, and people get excited about that sort of thing.." Pyrah finishes off her klah; leaving the mug on the table for a drudge to pick up, she gathers up the jacket and beckons for Hannah to follow. "It won't take too long, and you'll be back home in no time."

Hannah steps lightly, getting her warm jacket that she wore when she arrived at High Reaches and stays closer to Pyrah—she seems to be less scary of the two Istans. "Okay, I'm ready." Blink. Gulp. Out into the cold. "Okay, if I'm not gone too long, Mother won't worry.."

Alfi smiles at Hannah. Someone else to suffer the wrath of the weaver and the weather and the warmest weyr. (Ooh. Alliteration!) Elle yanks on her jacket, fastening it tight, pulling the hood over to overshadow her already dark features, "Wrap up well. Fortunaly, Larisseth is fast -make the trips in no time."

Commander escapes from the sheer nothingness of ::between:: into the here and now.

Elle exchanges the protection of stone for the bowl outside.

Alfi exchanges the protection of stone for the bowl outside.

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 late night. The rain seems neverending, pummelling the land with a relentless attack of water. Lightning flashes, turning darkness into an eerie landscape of water. The wind howls, flinging trees and branches and bits of debris through the air. Clinging to footholds in the boulder-mound are Zhaneel, Spice, Wilt, Zimt, Tremayne, Shoobie, and Mosfet.

Brown Piccath, bronze Nhamarath, brown Revnath, bronze Telynth, blue Sriath, and green Larisseth are here. You see a wagonmaster here.

Elle and Alfi are here.

Obvious exits:

Pens Northern Bowl Caverns Ground Weyrs Lakeside

Pyrah steps out from the Weyr's living caverns.

Spur steps out from the Weyr's living caverns.

Commander steps out from the Weyr's living caverns

Alfi cringes as the rain hits her full force, but she keeps walking across the bowl. Hey, she has no choice…Weaver Hall should be warmer, anyway, maybe drier.

Larisseth shuffles in place as the others approach her, wuffling and sniffling in the cold rain. Elle rushes up to the dragon, "Hurry on up, everyone. We'll get to the Weyr first." Elle uses Larisseth's politely extended foreleg to mount the petite green, bestriding viridian neck.

Commander winks out of the plane of reality and into that cold nothingness we call ::between::.

You clamber up Larisseth's neck and set yourself between two neckridges.

Larisseth [Central Bowl]

Silver-green sage shimmers over the slender form of this petite young dragon, dripping languidly down her neck from beneath a delicate head crowned in olive. Her underbelly gradually fades to a pale, sedate green-veined marble, while her wings appear to simply be carved from gleaming malachite, accented by a minty copper patina. Her movements are quite slow, from the calculated swishing of her extra-long tail to her ponderous, relaxed stride. Bright and just barely shy of gaudy, colors twine themselves 'round neckridges. An array of azure and saffron, the leather is worked in places with small jewels, catching small rays of light without adding undue weight to straps. Silver buckles strive to outshine the stones, polished surfaces reflecting beams that faceted surfaces scatter. The leather beneath, though strong enough for fighting, has been dyed to match the brilliance of decorations.

Astride Larisseth is Elle.

Larisseth seems to be listening.

Alfi uses Larisseth's politely extended foreleg to mount the petite green, bestriding viridian neck.

Pyrah uses Larisseth's politely extended foreleg to mount the petite green, bestriding viridian neck.

You take off.

Above the Bowl

The ocean's tranquil thermals settle within the center section of the bowl's airspace, unusually smooth and bouyant — though oft to switch as the seasons shift. Lingering beneath spires' constant presence, the perpetual activity of the weyr can be observed from every direction: from the testing rustle of dragonet wings, to the playful games sent aloft. It is a winter late night. The rain seems neverending, pummelling the land with a relentless attack of water. Lightning flashes, turning darkness into an eerie landscape of water. The wind howls, flinging trees and branches and bits of debris through the air.

Obvious exits:

Northern Sky Weyrling Air Above the Pens Above the Lake Ledges

Larisseth is there and now she's not…*blam* gone ::between::

:::BETWEEN!:::

You hang, senseless, in the dark nothingness of ::between::… absolute darkness surrounds you, and the profound cold stings you… you wait, and count… Black… Blacker… Blackest…

Sky High Over Northeastern Bowl

You're flying nearly level with the Weyr's towering pinnacles, at this height. Far below you can see the Weyrling training grounds, and the waterfall pool. Numerous ledges line the Weyr wall here. And above you to the north are the Weyr's Star Stones and watchrider's post. It is a winter late night. The rain seems neverending, pummelling the land with a relentless attack of water. Lightning flashes, turning darkness into an eerie landscape of water. The wind howls, flinging trees and branches and bits of debris through the air. Gliding around is Daenar.

Obvious exits:

Star Stones Southwest Forest Pools Ledge

s Larisseth streaks from ::between:: leaving a green-sparkled, ice-flecked wake.

Alfi opens her eyes and relaxes. Never has a trip between seemed more…frightening. But there's relief in the…more rain. Drattit. "Whoo…" is her only spoken remark.

Sky High Over Northeastern Bowl

You're flying nearly level with the Weyr's towering pinnacles, at this height. Far below you can see the Weyrling training grounds, and the waterfall pool. Numerous ledges line the Weyr wall here. And above you to the north are the Weyr's Star Stones and watchrider's post. It is a winter late night. The rain seems neverending, pummelling the land with a relentless attack of water. Lightning flashes, turning darkness into an eerie landscape of water. The wind howls, flinging trees and branches and bits of debris through the air. Gliding around is Daenar.

Obvious exits:

Star Stones Southwest Forest Pools Ledges You fly southwest across the bowl.

Sky High Over Central Bowl

Thermal updrafts carry you easily over the Ista Weyr bowl. The warm sea breeze blows in from the ocean to the west, filling the bowl with whirling air currents. Towering above you, the five pointed pinnacles of the Weyr Rim reach skyward in an impressive display. The Weyr bowl stretches away to the northeast and southeast, and to the west lies the plateau, beaches, and ocean. It is a winter late night. The rain seems neverending, pummelling the land with a relentless attack of water. Lightning flashes, turning darkness into an eerie landscape of water. The wind howls, flinging trees and branches and bits of debris through the air.

Obvious exits:

Up Northeast Plateau Ledges

You fold your wings a little and descend.

Sky over Central Bow

l Ista heat breeds whirling, swirling, dragon-tossing thermals that send you up over the bowl and off towards the east. Here, beneath the towering pinnacles of the Weyr's jagged rim, ledges dot the cliffside and tier down to the hatching grounds to southeast just beyond queen's weyrs and living cavern, and to the northeast the weyrling barracks and training ground are made of hard pounded earth and ash-pits It is a winter late night. The rain seems neverending, pummelling the land with a relentless attack of water. Lightning flashes, turning darkness into an eerie landscape of water. The wind howls, flinging trees and branches and bits of debris through the air.

Obvious exits:

Down Northeastern Bowl Southeastern Bowl Plateau Ledges

You fly southeast across the bowl.

Sky Over Southeastern Bowl

The jagged peaks of the Weyr's exploded caldera shelters dragons aflight from errant sea breezes, but the salty scent of ocean water pervades all. Weyr entrances pockmark the weathered black rock, sometimes allowing a glimpse of bright dragons on their ledges, and to the northwest, a large portion of the volcanic wall seems to have exploded outward in a trapezoidal wedge, allowing tradewinds to blow crookedly against the inner walls. Perhaps it explains the density of weyrs here in the more sheltered, southeastern portion of the broken bowl. They cluster above the living cavern and other public areas, whereas elsewhere the weyrs seem more isolated and evenly spaced. The five fingers of Ista Weyr block any progress seaward, but dragons sometimes slip between the peaks, nimble and delicate against the upthrust rock. It is a winter late night. The rain seems neverending, pummelling the land with a relentless attack of water. Lightning flashes, turning darkness into an eerie landscape of water. The wind howls, flinging trees and branches and bits of debris through the air.

Below, you see Morath, Minyath, Kyanth, Djarreth, Sevareth, and Nyolith. Gliding around are Laddy and Kren.

Obvious exits:

Down Hatching Grounds Central Bowl Ledges Weyrleader's Landing Up You fly into the upper entrance of the grounds.

Above the Hatching Sands

You hover over the black hatching sands. Below, eggs cover the sands, waiting to hatch. To the west, light filters in through the large gaping maw in the cliff face, the upper entrance to the grounds from the Weyr bowl.

Below, you see Serath, Ilyddth, and one person.

Obvious exits:

Down Bowl Ledge

You glide down for a landing.

Ledge

So many ledges, so few Hatchings. Ledges both wide and narrow cut shallow perches the length and height of the cavern: some short and crowded, others broad and deep and wide. It doesn't matter, for each offers a distinctive view of the caverns below, the sands that fill it, and the clutch — should there be one — somewhere beneath those heated grains of earth. Near the galleries the ledges are most numerous, broad and scarred by countless dragons depositing dignitaries and riders. Smaller ledges and the ocassional well-kept ladder or tricky stone step connect one to the next and so on out around the cavern.

Green Kelawith and green Cheyth are here.

Obvious exits:

Galleries Fly

Hannah huddles down in her jacket, not saying much of anything, being among strangers and all. Of course, the Istan air is much warmer than the 'Reaches air, so it's not long before she losens her jacket somewhat and merely stares with her big eyes at the surroundings..

Alfi looks down from the green's back, glad to be out of the rain but a little puzzled. With all that insistence before…"This doesn't appear to be the Weavercraft hall." Well duh.

Elle yanks back the hood of her jacket as soon as they enter the large hatching grounds, still sniffling and rubbing at the bottom of her nose with her gloved hand. "Ah, here you are… and not many get to see this place through that entrance."

Elle glances back at Alfi, "All in due time, Arli. Hannah wanted a look-see at the eggs." And just as Elle finishes that statement, the green sits her rear on down as if ready for a long stay.

Pyrah intones from the depths of her jacket, "I think you're right, Elle. Between's just as cold High Reaches." She loosens her safety straps and cheerily tells Hannah, "But the best place to get warm's here. Can't get much hotter. Unless you're actually /on/ the sands.."

Alfi hasn't before. She recognizes the room eventually, though the perspective dragonback is indeed different. But trust her, this is actually better than a clothes fitting. And it is indeed warm. And this time she does have a comment, "It's Alfi…I really don't mind." Larisseth even goes so far as to crouch down, resting her chest upon forelegs. Casually, she swings her head around to reguard the unusually large number of people back there, snuffling with quivering nostrils the entire time.

Hannah sniffles a little from the cold of the 'Reaches and between and gazes around. "Ooh. Are those the eggs?" is whispered shyly, and then added, "It is warm here. They are so pretty… and that big one. That one is.." she trails off, her eyes big and round at seeing the Eggs. Even having grown up in a weyr, her mother never allowed her near the galleries of home.

Alfi nods. "Those are definitely the eggs." They do look spiffier from up here. A better chance to look than the five minutes from the door she had last week.

Elle casts a gloved hand about, "Whatever… Larisseth, we don't plan on staying long -new duds are in the forecast." And to spite her lifemate, Larisseth just gets even more comfortable, wrapping her overly-long tail along her body, turquise-aswirl eyes taking in her passengers -her sniffling comeing closer and closer to them.

Hannah tentatively reaches out a hand to Larisseth, wanting to pet her nose, but allowing the dragon to come to her. One hand idly rubs the neckridge she's sitting behind as her gaze gets drawn back to that lone, solitary egg. "It's really.. pretty," she murmurs, her face flushed from a bit of heat and a bit of blush that makes her pale features look rosy.

Pyrah confirms, "Those're the eggs, yes. And they /are/ pretty." A glance is given for Larisseth and she quips to the green's rider, "Having trouble, there?"

"No, not at all… obviously someone here smells a little ripe." Elle pushes forward in her seat, turning her head to the side to reguard Lari's own nearby head "Really now." Larisseth, rumbles deep in her throat, a vibration more felt than heard to her numerous riders. sniff-Sniff-SNIFF

Alfi laughs a little—the dragon's rumbling does make a very big movement. But at Elle's remark, "I should think we're all fairly well clean from that rain."

"I just hope it's not me," Pyrah remarks drolly. "Maybe it's you, Elle." Fashion-concious Elle? With body odor? The horrors.

Hannah blinks at the green, "Uh…." Maybe she wants them to get off. Yeah, obviously she doesn't like haveing so many people on her back. "Does.. she.. want .. us .. off?" the girl stutters, her shyness gripping her tongue and mangling her words.

Alfi holds back a snicker. It is not her. Hmph. THough she may be a tad bit overwhelmed by the nights…unusual events. But not enough to make her stinky. No.

Elle's eyes narrow before they widen at Pyrah's remark, "Oh no, not me… Apparently Larisseth here had taken a liking to the pair of /you/" And with that, the rider fairly glares at Alfi and Hannah. Her eyes roll upward, "I can't take you anywhere, Lazy." -her pet name for the dragon.

Alfi gazes back innocently. Is having a dragon like her a bad thing? Certainly better than having one /dislike/ her. Being scorched would definitely feel worse than the stifling heat rising from the sands.

Pyrah suggests, "Maybe it's something they brought with 'em from the 'Reaches. Something we don't have here in Ista?" She worries her lower lip absently while pondering. "But what's that Weyr got that we don't, other than cold weather? Some Weyr-secret-thing?"

"You have the same rain here as there," Alfi remarks. "She couldn't want that." Llamas maybe? Howabout the cookies?

Elle garumps after a pregnant pause of conversation with her verdant lifemate to twist about on her perch to stare at Alfi and Hannah most accusingly, "So, how do you two feel about remaining on at Ista 'till /those/ eggs down there hatch? Larisseth thinks you two should -as a matter of fact, she flat out demands it. She won't move 'till you agree -plain and simple as that."

Hannah blinks fearfully at Elle's glare. " A liking to.. me?" is whispered, her eyes like big green jewels. "W-w-w-why?" is stuttered as the girl tries to hie herself off the dragon. Maybe Larisseth won't be quite so onery if she's off. "Uhh.." Getting tangled up in her jacket, the waifish 'brat tries her best to slide down, with no success. In the middle of her distress, she blinks up at Elle, her hair hanging in her eye, "Stay?" is squeeked an octive above her normal speech, for once shyness forgotten in her shock. "B-b-b-b-bu-ut Moth-th-er.." Gulp.

"At least it's not me this time," Pyrah mutters to herself, nearly inaudible. "We can tell your mum, get your things, get permission," she smoothly interjects on Hannah's behalf, tone rising to a conversational level. "I'm sure she'll be pleased."

Alfi has had a lot demanded out of her before, by brats, by firelizards, and by slightly odd greenriders. But…um…this is…new. Alfi does take her orders, but she usually has a little more to say than, "Stay? Lari wants me to stay until…" Maybe it's the cold. Or the heat. Or the rain. Or maybe just that a certain nanny is very pleased. More pleased than about new clothes. "I think that works."

Elle watches the young girl's foundering with a moment of suprise, then amusement, "Ah, we'll be sure to get the official permission from your mother then, Hannah. But a Searching dragon, is a Searching dragon -and Larisseth is quite adamant that you should stay here and Stand as a candidate."

Elle turns her attention to Alfi, "Excelent… but don't think that won't absolve you from getting some new duds -you may have to make your own robe, but we can certainly get you fitted right is something more seemly and new."

Hannah nods mutely, her eyes like twin emerald saucers, "I-I-I'd like to stay," is said with a shy look at Larisseth, her cheeks suffusing with more heat. Gulp. "Thank you.." still stuttering, the girl gives Pyrah and Elle a sweet, shy smile while casting her gaze on her hands, "I'd be honored.." come her whispered words.

OOC: Elle apologizes and hasta take off, guys. Pyrah will take you through the rest. Congratulations! :D

OOC: Hannah says "thanks!"

Alfi is seated at the moment. Otherwise, she'd not be standing, she'd have collapsed. "I think I can live with the new clothes…"

Pyrah simply beams. "Wonderful. You can both just follow me.." And with that, she dismounts.

Pyrah swings a leg over Larisseth's neck, sliding swiftly to the ground with a *swish*.

Alfi swings a leg over Larisseth's neck, sliding swiftly to the ground with a *swish*.

Ledge

So many ledges, so few Hatchings. Ledges both wide and narrow cut shallow perches the length and height of the cavern: some short and crowded, others broad and deep and wide. It doesn't matter, for each offers a distinctive view of the caverns below, the sands that fill it, and the clutch — should there be one — somewhere beneath those heated grains of earth.

Near the galleries the ledges are most numerous, broad and scarred by countless dragons depositing dignitaries and riders. Smaller ledges and the ocassional well-kept ladder or tricky stone step connect one to the next and so on out around the cavern.

Green Kelawith, green Cheyth, and green Larisseth are here.

Pyrah and Alfi are here.

Obvious exits:

Galleries Fly

You slide gently down Larisseth's neck and land with a soft thud.

Pyrah calls back to Elle, "We can go get clothes another day, okay? I'll show these two the barracks." She throws a wave, and then she's off, clumping towards the galleries.

Pyrah makes her way carefully down into the galleries.

Alfi nods, pulling a bit of an odd face at the prospect of having to /make/ some manner of clothes, but her mannerisms at the moment seem extremely pleased, as she follows Pyrah down.

Alfi makes her way carefully down into the galleries.

Oh look, the galleries are this way — off we go!

Galleries

Tier and tier of benches rise high in these galleries, encompassing a sweep along a full third of the cavern's wall. Seats worn to slippery-smooth likeness, they are broad enough to offer security — but each one is also high enough to offer a clear view over those in front. Several lines of rope cordon off this area from the Sands below, and a precariously narrow pathway offers access to the multiple layers of draconic ledges that line the walls.

To view things on the sand, see .

Perched around the galleries are thirteen firelizards.

You see Pebble here

Pyrah and Alfi are here.

Obvious exits:

Ledges Stairs

Sands and dragons and eggs, oh my!

Pyrah heads down the stairs.

You go to the Hatching Grounds Entrance.

Hatching Grounds Entrance

The imposing height of this tunnel is a mere shadow of the cavern beyond. Worn smooth by time and touch, the walls and floor reflect turns of passage by candidate and observer alike, dusted gently by a smattering of coarse black sand; heat and excitement are palpable here as well, cooled somewhat by the breeze that filters in from the bowl. Broad, shallow stairs sweep up to the galleries for more general observation, while a broad, lower tunnel leads towards the sands themselves.

Pyrah is here.

Obvious exits:

Sands Galleries Bowl

Alfi walks in from the Galleries.

Pyrah traipses to the Bowl.

Alfi walks to the Bowl.

You go to the Southeastern Bowl.

Southeastern Bowl

This area of the bowl is the highest point of the bowl floor; from here, it slopes down and to the northwest, spilling out to the plateau below the wide gap in the Weyr rim to the west. Various tunnels here lead into the Weyr's inner caverns; the living caverns, hatching grounds, and main Weyr tunnel all branch off from here. To the west lie the stables where the Weyr's runners are housed. There is also a stone stairway that leads up to the Weyrleader's weyrs.

It is a winter late night. The rain seems neverending, pummelling the land with a relentless attack of water. Lightning flashes, turning darkness into an eerie landscape of water. The wind howls, flinging trees and branches and bits of debris through the air.

Perched on rocky crags about the bowl are Kelvin, Killa, Etera, and Taybi.

Brown Morath, brown Minyath, blue Kyanth, brown Djarreth, brown Sevareth, and green Nyolith are here.

Pyrah and Alfi are here.

Obvious exits:

Hatching Cavern Central Bowl Weyr Tunnel Living Caverns

Pyrah traipses to the Living Caverns.

Alfi walks to the Living Caverns.

You go into the living cavern.

Living Cavern

The smooth, rounded walls of the vast living cavern sweep upward from an oval base, two dragonlengths long and one wide, large enough to seat every member of the Weyr at mealtimes. The soft blackness of the lava which forms these caverns swallows glowlight, so shelves for glowbaskets abound, dotting the walls every three or four paces and casting gentle greenish light up toward the sparkles of gold volcanic glass embedded in the ceiling. Ancient lustrous tables run along the long axis of the cavern, and at the far end is the raised dais and high table, where the Weyrleaders and their honored guests eat during formal occasions. Behind the high table, the Weyr's symbol is chiseled into the stone: a smoking mountain in black, on an orange shield, trimmed in gold.

Perched near the food are thirty-four firelizards.

You see Ale Cabinet, Moufles, Nappa, What's for Dinner, a crawler in the corner, Wild Orchid, and Candidate Sketch here.

Nalisa, Anely, Zali, Karnak, Annalysa, Pyrah, and Alfi are here.

Obvious exits:

Northeast Caverns Kitchens Bowl Southern Caverns

Nalisa nods a polite greeting to the newcomers as they enter, then turns back to her klah. A pause, then a double take—"/Alfi/?" She leaps out of her seat, knocking it over, and runs up to her soggy friend and gathers her in a big hug. "Alfi! What're you doing here?"

Pyrah weaves her way through the semi-orderly assortment of tables and chairs, beckoning for the two newest Candidates to follow. "This way, right through here." She pauses as one of her charges is greeted, and turns attention to Hannah. "Ever been away from home?" she asks brightly.

Hannah follows Pyrah mutely, her eyes wide with curousity before they drop down in shyness. Scuffling along, the young girl stays close to Pyrah, the only known in an unknown world. Scuffle. Scuffle. Blink. Blink.. the girl is rather shell shocked. "I was at the 'REaches for a while.. but not since then, no," is said with a shake of her head, and gulping, her eyes dropping shyly.

Alfi beams, recognizing Nalisa's voice immediately. "I sorta got a one way ticket, like it or not," she explains from inside the hug. She's getting Nali a bit wet, too…"I think I'll have plenty of time to talk about it, but I'm supposed to follow Pyrah now."

"I'm sure you'll like it here," Pyrah assures warmly. "If you ever need anything, you come talk to me, okay? I'm the Steward, and someone'll be able to point you in the right direction." She peers back to Alfi, then, nods sharply, and strides towards the lower caverns.

Pyrah traipses to the Southern Caverns.

Nalisa's grin threatens to overtake her faceshe understands completely. "Well, congratulations!" She doesn't even notice that she's getting wettypical Nali selective observation.

You go to the South Caverns.

South Caverns

Caverns continue to twist and tangle into a labyrinth of ancient tunnels: from high, soaring, vaulted roofs to nothing more than crawl-space at times the weyr extends deep into the mountain. Most of the walls are the smooth and glossy obsidian of ancient volcanoes, dark but for the fickle light of green-tinted glows. The floor is likewise worn by feet and time to run smooth and unbroken off to the main caverns to the north, or into the dorms and barracks in the opposite direction.

Pyrah is here.

Obvious exits:

Crafters' Area Living Caverns Corridor Candidate Barracks Dorms

Alfi walks in from the Living Cavern.

Pyrah traipses to the Candidate Barracks

. Alfi walks to the Candidate Barracks.

You go to the Candidate's Barracks.

Candidate's Barracks

Long and low, this large room angles back into the mountain in a near-perfect rectangle, devoid of windows and hearth. A functional room — all black volcanic rock and simple earthen tapestries, there is nothing but stark simplicity in the seemingly endless rows of cots that scatter back into the shadows. A small clothespress sits at the end of each puce-covered bed — yes, puce. Every cot sports a rather gaudy and obnoxiously purple cotton coverlet, leftovers from PranksPast. Boys to the right, girls to the left. Enjoy. Hanging out on a long wooden shelf on the wall are five firelizards.

You see Anely's Cot, Jozelle's Cot, Nevarre's Cot, Deidrea's Cot, Melissa's Cot, and Zali's Cot here.

You notice Nevarre, Melissa, and Jozelle asleep here.

Pyrah and Alfi are here.

Obvious exits:

Caverns

Alfi takes a good long time looking around the room. Decidedly bare, but extremely welcoming for the circumstances.

Hannah looks around, seeming to be at a loss for words, her eyes big and round, her mouth hanging slightly open. Is this real, her gaze seems to ask. Gulp. "Wow.." whispered. Pyrahs earlier words are taken to heart and the shy girl even hovers around the Steward. Gulp. A weak, shy smile is cast Alfi-wards.

"Just claim a cot," Pyrah instructs, pointing a finger towards the left-hand rows of puce beds. "I'll have a rider go back and pick up your things - and send a message to whoever you'd like to notify."

Hannah nods, "Let my Momma know? She's Areiah.." Girl's thoughts are muddled as she sits her waifish form on a random, unoccupied cot and blinks up at Pyrah. "She'll be worried..?" Shyness makes her words soft and stuttered, but her meaning is rather muddled, as if the girl is shocked. Gulp. Wow.

Quella glides in from the South Caverns.

Alfi gazes back down at Hannah. Weyrbrat, Nanny does not matter now. Equal white-coated chore-doers and prank-pullers. Still smiling broadly, she turns her attention back to the Steward. Nodding at the words, she gazes down the long puce row. That's a /lot/ of cots! "Notify," she considers. "Probably Pyrene, the Head Nanny. She'll probably be glad to be less one brat but upset about one less nanny." Anyone else? She can send firelizards out with notes to her other 'Reaches friends.

Pyrah sends a drudge running for a cot. After a few minutes the drudge returns dragging a big heavy cot for Alfi.

Pyrah sends a drudge running for a cot. After a few minutes the drudge returns dragging a big heavy cot for Hannah.

"I'll be sure to let them know," Pyrah assures. "It's the first thing I'll do." She pauses a moment to think. "You can get your chores from the Headwoman or one of her assistants in the morning. Or Ode, my assistant. Feel free to go out to the Living Cavern or the galleries or anywhere within the Weyr."

Hannah nods, and gives Pyrah a shy worried look, "Will my Momma be able to come visit?" is asked, her hands twisting themselves into knots.

Alfi's beam lessens a little. Ah, of course, the chores. The classic, fabled Candidate Chores. Well, there's a downside to everything. "In the morning. Gotcha. And anywhere in the weyr but not outside the area. Got that."

Pyrah replies with a nod, "Your mum's welcome to visit any time she'd like." She moves for the exit, then, informing, "I'll just go find a rider right now to get your things and let people know. Come talk to me if you have any problems!"

Pyrah traipses to the Caverns.

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