Lhana becomes a Candidate

March 7th 2002
Logged by Khena

Living Caverns

Lhana arrives from deeper in the Weyr.

Sinead makes her way in to the living caverns, nods and waves, yes, she's not a model… "Hey Miria, Lorsa, T'am, Siannen," wave waffle, and with that she's off to get herself a mug of klah before finding herself a seat. "How are you all today?"

Kalyssa arrives from deeper in the Weyr.

Miria giggles and adds on to Lorsa's with "Yup! Mah favorite bronze on Pern, of course." Giggleteehee. "I luv that dragon to death." Of course, this says nothing about being adorable does it? Point made. "Allo, Ead!" she calls out to her half-sister and fellow guard recruit before chirping back to T'am, "And his whuffles are so warm…"

Lhana strides in airily, tossing one long braid over her shoulder as she goes. A vague little smile is tossed out in the direction of those assembled, and she heads straaaight for the klah pot. And it is not 'til she has acquired herself a mug of that blessed fluid, taken a test sip, and deemed it yummy enough, that she manages to turn around and notice that yes, she does indeed know some of the people in here. So she gives them a little wave, collectively, and breezes herself on over there. "Hello everyone," she says, her tone serene.

T'am smiles warmly at Lorsalia, for her belief in the beauty of that lumpy carcass that calls itself his dragon, if not for a few other reasons. "He does have his…charms." So he's not physically beautiful, but he's much loved. Winking at Miria, T'am adds, "He's got a fondness for the ladies, you know." Or at least one or two ladies: Miria and Tevya. "'lo!" A brief lifting of the index finger will serve as a wave for the newest entrants.

Ischoria walks in from the Central Bowl.

Lorsalia turns and wriggles her fingers. "Hey Lhana! Wanna cookie today?" She holds up one of the last pink-sprinkled treats from her basket, as if the girl might actually eat it. Ha. Health food fanatics never go back. Already giving up, she snorts at T'am. "The dragon ones or the human ones, do you mean? Yajisarath is still of the opinion that he only has eyes for her."

Sinead chuckle as she listens. "Aww, you guys talking about that cute bronze dragon?" She enquires with a grin and a chuckle before sending a wave Lhana's way. "Hee, so, I expect there's trouble to find?" Yeah, right, but she can't help but ask, right?

"Woooh! Jesha didn't entirely deprive the weyr of its entire klah supply!" Miria rejoices spiffily as she bounds happily over to the klah mug and pours herself /two/ mugs, she's starving so much for it. A klah addiction can be a bad thing, ya. Holding one mug in one hand, she plops the other on a nearby table and watches over it carefully, then takes a big gulp of Mug Number One and drains it a quarter-way. "Ahhhhh. High Reaches Klah: Brown and yummy to the last drop."

Ischoria enters. Ah yes.. The daily ritual during her break of menial tasks and lessons, the wite-clad figure enters thebowl once again and makes a straight VTOL line toward the fireplace. She has had a rather stressful day, and whatever can relive the tensions is most welcome as she places a kettle of water over the fireplace.

Kalyssa wanders in, firelizards contained on each shoulder as she makes her way to the klah hearth, and pours herself a hug, perhaps a little less enthused than the younger girls but she is an assistant headwoman and she does have a reputation to maintain.

Lhana slides into a seat smoothly and smiles too-sweetly back at Lorsalia. "No, thank you. Though they certainly do look nice." They never go back, indeed. A teasing little head-tilt is to be sent Ead-wards, then. "Trouble? Are you starting trouble again, Ead?" The strangely sedate haircutter eyes Miria's double-klah deal and reaches for her own mug. An emphatic nod for the guard-recruit's comments about klah, and she takes a sip. Mmmmmm.

Sinead oohs and watches the people enter the caverns, and her klah-a-holic of a sister. "Miria, you drink too much of that," she states, really, she is the overprotective older sister, except wehn their beating a pulp out of eachother.

T'am picks up his own sorely neglected and now cold mug of klah. Sipping it anyway, he says over the rim to Lorsalia, "The human kind. Nothing beats out Yajisarath's perfect hide." Which gets a silly grin from this rider, because he knows Farleth has been fawning over that green from the day they hatched.

Ischoria peers down at her robe, hood totally obscuring her face from view in this pose, and looks through sevral pockets located near her right hip… "Now where did I leave those herbs from today…" is overheard as she mutters to herself… She finally finds them in a pocket over her left breast, scoop's out the contents with her right hand and throws it into the kettle over the fire. She adds some light infusings of other common herbs for reasons ranging from flavoring to enhancing the tranqual effects of the main ingrediant. She then takes a chair and sits back nearby the fireplace as the potion is the potion is prepared, and looks out over the cavern to the crowd assembled thier about a quarter of a dragon length away.

Lorsalia doesn't have any klah. Just a shallow basket nearly empty of the pink-sprinkled cookies it came laden with. "Oh, really?" Lorsalia flutters to the bronzerider, "Yajisarath is glad of that. She's always talking about Farleth to me." And Lors of T'am to the green. But that's a given. She offers the last of the cookies to Sinead a bit reluctantly, then frowns at Lhana. "Hey, Yajisarath was wondering if you'd take a look at her straps later. She's afraid that they're fading. And she says you're really good with colors."

"Sineaaaad! I do /not/ drink too much klah, compared to what the guards make us eat," Miria half-complains to Sinead with a whine. "They make us eat… tubers and ucky greens and things. Only thing I like that they actually give us is all the fruit… redfruit's tasty as anythin'." Wow! Something non-fattening and non-sugary! This is a first. She whimpers mildly, though, as Ead takes the last cookies. She only had… what, two? But Miria's stomach is reasonably satiated at the moment, and so she chugs down the last of Mug One and begins work on Mug Two. Can't waste good klah can she?

Lhana quirks an eyebrow at Sinead, feigning shock. "Is that really /possible/, Sinead?" She shakes her head, stopping her grin only to take a sip of klah. Too much klah…bah! The girl must be crazy. As Lhana is not currently facing the hearth, Ischoria's adding of assorted objects to it goes rather unnoticed. As Lorsalia speaks, liquidy mocha gaze is pulled from her klah-mug over to the greenrider, and she smiles. "She does?" Lhana sits up a bit taller, beaming a tad at the compliment and answering brightly. "Well, I'd be glad to." Aaand…back to the klah. Sip, sip. "It's been a while since I've seen Yajisarath, hasn't it?" Not since that sleepover, anyway.

Sinead chuckles as she listens to the riding duo, well, sorta listening. "How are Farleth and Yajisarath today?" Ead enquires, ever the one for pleasentries before grinning at Lorsa. "Thanks," is offered as she takes a cookie. "They look quite delicious," noddle. "Miria, all those are good for you," she states, hiding a grimace that's offered at the mention of all that disgusting food. "Of course Lhana, if you're my littles sister who has several pitchers full a day."

Kalyssa eyes the mess by the klah hearth, sipping from her mug her eyes go on to search the ccaverns speculatively. Still she stays silent for a moment, drinking in the ambience of the living caverns or something

Ischoria was looking over her left shoulder at the KEttle oiling over the fireplace when Miria make her defensive outburst that brings a light smile over her hooded countance. How ironic. She just finished nutrition lessons today, "A hardy and well balanced set of meals I understand, befitting a gaurd." Is tossed into her general direction.

Lorsalia rolls her eyes at Miria and nods to Lhana. "Pro'lly. She's trying to keep the snow from entering our weyr." The greenrider giggles and adds, "Silly beast. She's whining that you'll never do it and if you could go out there /now/ please before all the color goes away and she's left with the ugliest straps /ever/." Lorsa giggles again and sighs at her basket. Who to beg to get her more…"Eeead?" She finally decides, then Miria too. "Think you and Miria could get me some klah and more cookies? I'm exhausted! Don't think I could move!" Besides, she may lose her prime spot right next to T'am.

"Yaaaaw roiiiiiiiight, Sinead," Miria quips at Ead, before galumphing over to the klah pitcher and coming back with a mug of klah for Lorsalia. "See, I move for klah." With a satisfied smirk, she drops back down in her chair. Hapless little klah addict she is.

T'am tries to ignore all the talk about healthy food verses unhealthy food. He'd really rather not think about all the junk that gets up in his body. "Farleth's doin' fine, Ead. And hows yourself?" Inquiries into the well-being of his most beloved weyr-occupier are always welcomed with a warm smile. "He's trying to get some sun right now" the rider adds after a moment. Good luck getting much of that in the winter.

Sinead peers atta Lorsa. "That's cute," she notes of the green dragon. "Trying to keep the snow out of your weyr," she notes with a chuckle. "Of course I will," grin and she let's Miria get the klah while she moves to get the cookie. "You want exactly that type Lors? Or something differant?" is enquired as she looks at the cookies. "Yeah, you move for klah," she'll give her that. "That's wonderful T'am, I'm doing quite well, and you?"

Lhana blinks over at Sinead's response, then turns to raise her eyebrows at Miria. "Several pitchers full a /day/?" she asks, disbelieving. "Well, that /is/ rather excessive. That's got to be wreaking havoc on your health." Yes, it's Lhana the Health-Concious, to the rescue! A nod is given to lend Ischoria some extra emphasis. See - and she's backed up by a health professional! Then she swivels, giggling at Lors. Then pauses a moment to consider her schedule. "Well, I suppose I could go out there now if she /really/ wants me to." A smile is on her face - Yajisarath is just too much fun.

Rasanne walks in from the Central Bowl.

Ischoria breaks her stoical pose with a light-hearted chuckle at Miria's sarcasm. Can she blame her? Not even healer apprentices keep well balanced diets! Though that much Klah could definitly cause some kidney problems. She ponders if Miria leads a stressfull lifestyle. The herbs have begun to infuse themselves in the boiling water, and a delicious, pungent aroma waifs through the caverns from the soon-to-be tea.

"Pink-sprinkled, of course, Sinead!" Lorsalia replies in a tone resembling 'do you think I'm crazy or something???' before she settles back into her chair, watching Lhana. "Really, she's getting annoying, I'd go now if I were you." Lorsa grimaces and waves at the bowl. "She's out there now and won't stop complaining to me. Won't even listen when I suggest going out there myself. Yajisa says 'No! I want that pink-girl who doesn't eat cookies!' so I say, Alright, I'll send her out for you." She finishes the report with a decided nod. "I really would go if I were you, Lhana."

Rasanne hop-steps in with much dusting of arms and skirts. Her look suggests the cold is perhaps not quite welcome and she makes directly for the klah. A mug is grasped and the silkey liquid is poured before she even manages to turn around and peer at those gathered. A friendly little half smile flushes out her lips as she gives each in turn a sizing appraisal of the politely inquisitive kind. "H'lo! Name's Rasanne!" Is directed to all.

Lhana giggles at that. So now she's the 'pink-girl who doesn't eat cookies', is she? Still grinning, she stands and points to the bowl. "Okay, okay. She's just right out there?" She wouldn't want to have to go looking for her, after all. The scent of tea wafts her way, and Lhana blinks, glancing toward the hearth. Tea? That's a new one. Or maybe not… Rasanne, as well, receives a blink, and a little wave. "Lhana," is all that's given in response.

Lorsalia nods solemnly. "She's just right out there and she's starting to annoy the other dragons."

T'am stands, "Speaking of Farleth," which he was a moment ago, "He's tired of the bowl and needs some attention." A wave to everyone, special smile at Lorsalia, and he's away!
T'am exchanges the protection of stone for the bowl outside.

Sinead chuckles slightly and gets some (most) pink-sprinkled cookies, which are quickly deposited in front of Lorsa in way of an offering. "Here you go Lorsa," she says with a grin. "And how could say no to Yajisa?" She enquires, if she knew much about colors, and was asked, she'd be out there to help too. "Hello Rasanne, I'm Sinead," she offers with a wave before she returns to her seat before chuckling Lhana way. "Go, tend to Yajisa, we'll be here when you get back."

Lhana giggles, sighs dramatically, and heads toward the door. "Well, if she's annoying the other /dragons/…" And she giggles again before heading out into the bowl.
Lhana exchanges the protection of stone for the bowl outside.
Lhana steps out from the Weyr's living caverns.

Ischoria nods to Rassane as she enters, and continues to watch the boiling kettle.

Elehu comes down from the workrooms above.

"Absolutely. Have fun, Lhana, and… do tell me what they look like." Miria grins, adding on to Sinead's comment. She's a closet color freak. Yah. Downing the last of her klah, Mirs gulps and sighs. "Whatta cold day…"

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 afternoon. Snow begins to fall from the clouds, swirling about in a haze of white flakes that brush lightly against your face. A slight wind picks up from the north, driving the snowflakes at an angle.
Clinging to footholds in the boulder-mound are twenty-one firelizards.
Green Kelitath, green Zoryanth, blue Lainnoth, brown Revnath, bronze Telynth, bronze Rixesith, blue Wiranth, green Miravith, brown Sevareth, blue Jakith, green Alymath, green Yajisarath, green Vespurath, brown Mneoth, and green Estsanth are here.
Sildon and Lhana are here.

Estsanth drops in from above, landing with a light *thud*.

Lhana walks out of the living caverns, pulling her pink sweater close around her, and looks around. "Yajisarath?" she calls out tentatively, and shivers against the snow. "Where are you?"
Mneoth crouches low as you shift to the ground below.

Yajisarath announces her presence to Lhana with a large whuffle before she can step much further than the doorway. Afterall, that is right where the green is. Impatient, the dragon backs away, so that her straps can be seen. They are lovely and bright, still, but this backing away also leaves room for others to near the door.

Living Caverns> Rasanne gives each in turn a nod before deftly making a snatch of one of the blankets, thoroughly tangling herself within, and tottling over to a chair where she manages to settle without spilling -too- much klah on herself and her blanket. "Certainly cold. Snow is cold." The miserable little Igen born states.

Carefully slipping off her dragon's neck, Khena gives the brown a hard glare, "It's /snowing/ Mneoth! Why you ever wanted to come down here in the first place is beyond me," she mutters angrily, her expression not becoming any sweeter as she hears a familiar voice. "The infirmary?" The pregnant rider turns to the brown, her brow furrowing. "I don't /need/ any healer now," she continues, glancing over her shoulder at Lhana to make sure she isn't overhearing her private conversation with her lifemate.

Living Caverns> Lorsalia rolls her eyes to Sinead and Miria as Lhana exits. "Can you /believe/ my dragon? She is so selfish!" As if to say that Lorsalia herself isn't. Just look at how jealous she becomes if anyone so much as /winks/ at T'am. "Here, come sit here…" She pats the seat the bronzerider vacated, talking to Miria or Ead, whichever chooses to come. She has her klah now and she sips it, before grinning at Rasanne. "Of course the snow is cold. If you don't like it, why're you even here?" Tease, tease.

Lhana starts at the wuffle and then giggles at Yajisarath as the green steps away from the opening. "Yes, of course. There you are." She steps toward Yajisa, looking over the straps. "Well, they don't look very faded to me," she comments, crossing her arms in an effort to maintain some heat. But she takes another step forward to give them closer scrutiny. She does indeed overhear Khena's conversation, but she isn't about to let on. In fact, the brownrider is ignored altogether.

Fihall walks in.

Living Caverns> Mirs does not skidder over to the said seat, but merely slides her chair on the floor, being too lazy to get up, making a very creaky and squeaky sound upon it. Looking up to Rasanne, she grins. "Aw, but the snow is so fuuuuun…" Albeit very annoying when you have to trudge through it just to eat. "Like, snowballs, and skating, and snowforts… and the list goes.." Miria stops herself here to stifle a burp- "… on."

Living Caverns> Kalyssa steps into the shadows that lead back into the Weyr.

Fihall is surprised to see Lhana in the cold and the wind and the snow and the… she seems awfuly pink today. "Pink," is muttered with a little shake of the head before the titian haired messenger, bedecked in furry clothing, scuttles towards his previously abandoned snow sculpture of a.. well.. err.. whatsamajigger.

Yajisarath snorts at Lhana and turns around, slowly, sweeping snow as she does so. Fine. Her straps are fading and ugly but that doesn't mean Lhana hasta say so. She could inspect 'em first.

Living Caverns> Sinead chuckles and watches Lhana head out while she takes the vacated seat, as her sibling chose not too. "Yeah, the snow is fun, fights, skates, forts," she offers grinning. "I do so love ice-booting," Sin points out. "But than, I can't expect everyone to love snow."

Mneoth gives his rider a gentle push toward the ground weyrs, though she's not moving that way, rather she stands with her arms crossed staring at the brown. "It's not /time/ yet, Mneoth! Stop pushing me," Khena says, kicking a patch of snow at the dragon. Giving an offended snort, the brown curls his tail around her legs drawing her closer to his muzzle. "But it's not, Mneoth.. I should know!"

Living Caverns> Rasanne eyes Lorsalia with a little sniff of personal injury. "I was here to see the clutching, caught a ride with one of those Istan riders." Seeing as she is an Ista resident, makes sense. Bah. The snow talk causes her to shiver and sip at her klah more resolutely. "All -I- know is that snow is damp, and the damp is cold, and the cold is frightfuly unpleasent." And obviously, -everyone- should agree with her.

Ndi tumbles off Estsanth's side, grunting as she hits the ground. "Stupid … stupid… why are you so sharding big, Estie?" Khena is spotted and waved at irritably, and Lhana and Fihall get a cursory inspection but nothing so dignified as a nod of recognition. After brushing off her leathers, though, the greenrider looks up and extracts two mugs from a pack at her side. "Look! I stole Istan mugs!" So proud, is she.

Lhana throws her arms in front of her face against the onslaught of swept snow, then places them at her hips, huffing. "Alright, al/right/! Maybe I just didn't look close enough." Yeesh. A mighty shiver as she tries to work some of the snow out of her hair and sweater, then she steps closer, making a quite obvious show of inspecting the straps. Fihall is glanced at, and she's about to start talking to him, before she remembers the snow-sweep and turns back to the straps. "Hey Fihall," she says. Khena is still pointedly ignored, though it's becoming very difficult for the poor, curious hair-person. She clears her throat. "Fihall - do these straps look faded to you? Yajisarath seems to think they are." Not that she's disagreeing, of course. Cringe.

Living Caverns> Lorsalia ponders this, then nods to Rasanne. "I suppose you're right. But it's /wonderful/ for somethings." She giggles and lowers her voice, "Like staying in your weyr with someone all day. It's so warm in bed, you know." Lors giggles again and sips on her klah, pretending as though she never said such a thing before wrinkling her nose at Sinead. "Well…I like snow, but in the middle of winter like this, I wish it'd hurry and get warm so I can bathe Yajisarath here at the Weyr without freezing!:

Living Caverns> Ischoria looks back over her shoulder, was that a whisper of the familar teapot's shout? Sure was, as the kettle begins to produced that high pitched squel. Ischoria removes the kettle and lets it sit for awhile to cool off, then comes over to the crowd with it. "Would any of you Klah lovers here hazard to try some of my tea?" she asks, "Just as potent to relieve the snowy cold."

Fihall peers at Lhana a moment, quite distraught he ahs to leave his lumpy masterpiece but trundles over to take a look. "Faded? Faded you say?" Inspection ensues, and he hrms. "I dunno, looks alright to me." Nod.

Yajisarath pointedly ignores Lhana. Instead, she uses the tip of her nose to push a snowdrift around into shapes. Unforunately, much of it melts from her breath before anything can be done with it. The only thing that could show that she is paying any attention at all to the human-types is her tail, the tip of which twitches back and forth in an excited sort of way.

Turning, Khena stares pointedly at Lhana and Fihall, then her eyes divert to Yajisarath with a roll of her eyes. "Silly green," she mutters under her breath as she offers a quick glance at Ndi, only to be interrupted by her lifemate's whuffling again. "Soon…? What d'you /mean/ soon? There's no way you can know that." Moving to step away from the brown, his tail only curls tighter around her, keeping her trapped in a brown loop. "Somebody give me a hand here," she calls out, glancing at first one, then the other. "He's not moving his tail, and it's cold standing out here."

Nearly waist-length, straight, ebony hair has been caressed into a silky luster, obviously requiring a great deal of attention. Her nearly chin-length bangs hang at the sides of her face, framing it wonderfully. Lhana's almond-shaped, mocha eyes are vaguely tilted, with thick black lashes around and sculpted, expressive eyebrows above. A cute button-nose sits in the middle of her thin, high-cheekboned face. She has outgrown adolescence with a high degree of success, albeit with less-ah-development than she might've hoped. Slender by design, she has only slight-curves at breast and hip. She is about 5'6, long in torso with olivey-colored skin.
Tight-fitting black pants cover Lhana's legs, flaring out a bit at the knee. A pink, fuzzy hooded sweater covers her upper body, lending a wonderful amount of warmth and comfort. Black, lace-up boots ascend above the hem of her pants, going all the way up to her knee. Her hair is in two long braids. Two firelizards are perched on her shoulders.
Her knot=HRW Resident.
She is a young adult of about 20.

She's short, is what she is. And she has yellow-brown eyes the exact hue of a muddy beach, and she has frizzle-frazzled brown hair currently bound in several unattractive pigtails. The rarity of venturing outdoors in the frigid High Reaches has reduced a once sunbaked tan to a weak buttery hue, but besides that, Ndi is much the person she always was, with knobbly limbs and a figureless figure. At least she doesn't slouch. Much.
In two words or less: orange tights.
Greenrider, High Reaches, Asst. Weyrlingmaster, Knot.
She is a young adult of about 23.

The boy is a canvas. His countenance, rugged and blanched, captivates the nebulous traces of boyhood. Cinnamon freckles embellish the adolescent protrusion of his cheekbones, and ooze to the broad expanse of shoulders, where they ultimately coalesce with fine, vermillion hairs. The majority of his body, however, remains unpainted. A thatch of undomesticated, wind-woven tresses veils his eyes from a non-existant sun. The mane is of a most phenomenal red, as if the boy's scalp had been soaked in tangent flames. His eyes contravene this, being bluish-gray in color. It is the eyes which illustrate the gist of emotion, twin cinematic screens that reflect either quiet thought or mocking glee. His shoulders exceed the lithe physique he currently sports, for the awkwardness of his age he is still rather scrawny. Nevertheless, despite this, the boy appears promisingly substantial. The thin, quirking lips and modestly up-turned nose suggest a mischevous mentality, which the boy has become notorious for. Yet, with all of his peculiar and individual qualities, Fihall is still a typical boy… seeking atypical amusement.
Ribbed in subtle dresden, this tunic clings tightly to his upper torso. Sewn through with biscut and bordeaux, the simple work of wool keeps the boy warm indeed. Cuffs embroidered with a light peppering of sienna, tapering towards seams of a decidedly topaz hue. A jacket settles snugly over the shirt, a supple doe toned leather with a fine layer of fur inside to keep the wearer from any discomfort. Leather pants hang slightly loose around his lower half, ebon entwined with taupe and coming to an overall dusty gray. Over worked and much beloved boots complete the ensamble, their laces all but frayed away.
A mess of chaotic threads depicts Fihall to be a High Reaches Messenger.
He is a teenager of about 15.

Ndi polishes her two pilfered mugs on her sleeve, looking distinctly peeved that nobody's paying any attention to her great deeds and stolen treasures. "/Well/?" A laser-eyed glare is shot around at all present, dragons included. "Isn't anyone going to congratulate me?" Obviously not. A twitch going in her cheek, the greenrider points at Lhana and Fihall. "You two. I want you to come into the kitchen… oh. You're checking Yajisarath's straps. Okay, you, then." You being Fihall. "I want you to take my mugs inside to show everyone. C'mon, let's go, I'll go too." Fihall gets a wary eyeballing. Is he coming?

Living Caverns> "Yah. And it's worse falling in frigid water. Cadgwith and Farleth created a big 'nuff hole in the ice that I screamed n' fell in," Miria adds to Lorsa's comment with a roll of the eyes. "Spent upwards of a candlemark and a half in the baths just warming up!"

Living Caverns> Sinead nods slightly, agreeing in a way with the two of them. "Oh, I don't like the cold that comes with the snow, but, unfortuantly, I have to actually get out of bed and go to work," le sigh. "It's too cold trudging across the bowl first thing in the morning," she notes before turning towards Ischoria. "I'd be willing to try someone, unlike little sis over here, I'm not a klah-a-holic," she states, chuckling slightly. "Aww, poor Miria, you should learn to avoid dragons on ice."

Fihall grins and gives Lhana a hair ruffle. He knows she hates that before proceeding the rider in.

Ndi stalks to the Caverns.
Fihall slips quietly to the Caverns.

Living Caverns> "I," announces Ndi as she traipses in, "have mugs, stolen fresh from Ista. Who wants'm, huh? How much're you gonna pay me?" Fihall is given an elbow as she shoves one of her two stolen mugs at him, whispering, "Polish it up on your sleeve and wave it around." Capitalist entrepreneur: Ndi.

Lhana glances up at Yajisarath, making a little 'hmph' noise under her breath again. Well, be that way. But she /did/ come out here to check the straps, so she scrutinizes them closely, even reaching out to peek at the undersides. "See, that's what I said, but she doesn't seem to agree." Obviously. The shapes are glanced at, and she sighs, stepping around to speak to the green's face. "I can't find anything wrong with them, Yajisa. They don't look to be faded hardly at all." She reaches out to pull the pink sweater tight around her again. Can she go in where it's /warm/, yet? A glance for Khena, and then Ndi. Then she cringes under Fihall's hair-ruffle, glaring at him as he goes. All at once realizing she's the only one to help Khena, she heaves a sigh and strides over her way. "What d'you want me to do, pull his tail away?" She glances up at the brown dubiously. As if she could really manage that.

Living Caverns> Rasanne wrinkles nose none the less at continued talk of snow and the offered tea. "Watered down version of what you can get in klah." Is stated simply and to the point. Dark red nails tap an impromptu tune out on the chair before she raises a hand, staring at the two males. "I'll take one." Back to Ista. You little pilferer. Ista resident eyes pointedly.

Living Caverns> Fihall does as he's told, polishing up the mugs and showing them at all angles. "Oooh, ahhh" is stated for the benefit of the oogling crowd. Yes. Stolen.

Living Caverns> Lorsalia glances at Ndi, but rolls her eyes and stifles a staged yawn. "Yeah, and why would we want to buy Istan mugs from you? We can get 'em ourselves. Geez." She shakes her head and sips her klah. "Besides, Ista's yucky. It's all hot and sandy down there."

Living Caverns> "Me!" Little klah-addict Miria holds up three little mark-pieces. Sad isn't she? "If they're good for klah, yes!" Squeal. "Like, how much do they cost?" she asks of Ndi as she peers at the mugs. So what if they're Istan? They hold klah.

Living Caverns> Sinead chuckles slightly before Ndi comes in. "Yes, how much," mayhaps she'll purchase a mug for herself. "But then, I do suppose our Weyr has mugs just as good as Ista's mugs," she notes with a shrug. "So, heh, I suppose I won't."

Glaring at Lhana, the rider realizes, too, that the hair-woman is the only one to seek help from. "If I wasn't so pregnant," Khena mutters under her breath, a defeated look crossing her face. "No.. I just need a hand stepping over, is all." Mneoth's muzzle comes around to give Lhana a whuffle, causing snow to whirl around her legs. "Well," his lifemate asks, reaching out for a helping hand.

Living Caverns> Ndi has buyers! Rasanne's knot is given a squinty /look/. Oh. Oops. Ndi is hard to shame, though. "How much will you /pay/ is the question! Do I have 1/32 mark? Hmm? Who wants an Istan mug?" Wave it, wave it, it's shiny, it's Istan, you want it, Fihall's got one too. "Eh, you want one too?" This makes… three? This means competition. Competition means higher prices. "How about 1/16 mark?"

Living Caverns> Rasanne waves about the mugs. Look Loooook. Sparkly Istan mugs. Shiiiiny Istan mugs. You want istan mugs! He hands them back to Ndi. "Hate to cut out but I've got to run a message."

Living Caverns> Lorsalia shakes her head at Ndi. "That's horrible. I wouldn't buy those things from you if I had a whole sackful of marks. Besides, I have like five Tillekian mugs up in my weyr. I keep forgetting to take 'em back." She shrugs, draining her klah. "I'd sell 'em if I weren't so fond of seeing their pretty blue glass shells and the white etchings of the sea every day…" Ha. More competition.

Living Caverns> "Pehhh! I have TWO right here!" calls out Miria. Someone is longing for a new klah mug. "Two marks for a shiny new mug!" And more klah consumed. Pretty good deal to the klah-holic guard recruit who is visibly shaking from her klah intake.

Lhana shivers against yet more whirling snow being sent her way, and sighs again, making it perfectly obvious she doesn't like this any more than the pregnant brownrider does. Taking Khena's hand with a martyred sort of look, she says, "Oh. Well, that's alright then." Then she gives her a little look, opens her mouth to add another comment, and closes it. No sense in saying something she'll inevitably regret later.

Living Caverns> Fihall waves about the mugs. Look Loooook. Sparkly Istan mugs. Shiiiiiny Istan mugs. You want Istan mugs! He hands them back to Ndi. "Sorry, hate to cut out, gotta run a message." And promptly leaves.
Living Caverns> Fihall goes home.

Living Caverns> Sinead chuckles as she listens to the call for mugs. "You really ought return those," she notes with a grin, not as if she would be insistant in the matter. "Hee, Maria, what do you need another mug for?" She enquires with a chuckle. "You have only to walk across the freezing cold bowl for a mug, and klah comes with, all for free."

Living Caverns> Ndi stare quietly at Miria. "Two marks?" she says. "Fine. Take them both. Here here here." And then, "Where's the money?" Ndi is back off to Ista - hold - to go and get drunk, this time.

Living Caverns> Rasanne wrinkles her nose, giving Ndi another one of those looks. "I'm not going to -pay- for a mug from my own weyr." Twitch. "Give." Hand waves a mug over, lips curving into a smile of triumph. Oh yes, Ras to save the day!

Living Caverns> Miria flips both mark pieces to Ndi. "Thanks." She squeeks at her pretty Ista-mugs. Souvenirs. Woohoo. Suddenly, an idea comes to mind… "Maybe I should start my own klah mug collection." Uh-oh. She's inspired. Busily, Mirs shoves both in her bag while stifling a small burp. Yup, her klah quota's been met for the day.

Living Caverns> "Too late," Ndi says smugly to Rasanne. "Shoulda' spoken up sooner." And out the door she goes.

Living Caverns> Ischoria simple laugh at the entire Klah Mug Affair. Silly High Reachians. She takes off her hood from her face to reveal the golden locks of hair and begins to take a sip of her tea.

Living Caverns> Rasanne goes home.

If Lhana is expecting a 'thank you' from Khena, she'll have to wait a long time. Taking the hair-cutters hand and giving it quite a squeeze the brownrider steps over Mneoth tail, looking back at the brown with a viscious look on her face. The brown however is uninterested in the mental beating given by his rider. He seems much more interested in the woman who's rescued her from the grasp of her tail. "She was the only one here, Mneoth… Or I'll wager she wouldn't have helped." A raised eyebrow is shot toward Lhana, "am I right?"

Living Caverns> Sinead shakes her head slightly. "Miria, you are completly nuts," she states with a chuckle before offering a wave to those departing. "Everyone's heading off it seems," she notes with shrug.

Lhana winces as her hand is squeezed and then eyes it for a moment, giving the brownrider a little scowl. Mneoth is given a little glance, and she blinks, mentally deciding which answer to give. "Most likely not," she finally replies, her tone cold. So there. Speaking of cold…bepink'd arms are crossed in front of the haircutter, and she shivers slightly. Braids are /not/ good for keeping one's head insulated, it seems.

Living Caverns> "I can't deny that," replies Miria as she kicks her legs up on the table and slings her hands behind her head. "But you probably couldn't either." A small snicker emanates, bordering on a chuckle, as Miria's eyes squint in sibling-versus-sibling delight.

Living Caverns> Ischoria hmms and takes another sniff and a sip of the tea, "Were we disinvited to some party we haven't heard of?" she wonders aloud to the remnants of the crowd.

"See… " Khena tells her lifemate, looking at him with an increasingly confused look. "What's so interesting about her anyway?" Nevermind that the woman was standing right there, and the rider didn't have to ask such a question outloud. "What?! No.. No way." Looking from Mneoth to Lhana and back again, Khena clenches not on her fists, but also her jaw, hisses through her teeth at her lifemate, "don't make me do that…."

Living Caverns> Ischoria hmms and takes another sniff and a sip of the tea, "Were we disinvited to some party we haven't heard of?" she wonders aloud to the remnants of the crowd. (repose)

Lhana scowls at Khena for the comment, crossing her arms irritably. Well, if she's going to be like /that/, then she might as well just head back over to Yajisarath. Or better yet, down to the… Khena's hissing takes the haircutter quite by surprise, and her eyebrows raise. "Do what?" Curiosity gets the better of caution, and she just glances from one to the other, warily puzzled. "What?"

Living Caverns> Sinead feigns a look of startlment. "Why, Miria, my darling younger sister, I am, of course, perfectly sane," hee, yeah, she forgot the first part of the word, and with that, a wink it sent Miria way. "It certainly seems like we where disinvited to a party or something, which is completly not nice," heh, yeah a party, at Ista, which is a place she doesn't plan on going, not with this nice Weyr in which to hang out.

Living Caverns> Elehu arrives from deeper in the Weyr.

Living Caverns> Lorsalia sighs at her empty mug and places it on the table behind her. Her empty basket, she also puts there. "I'm exhausted." She announces, having lost track of the others during a conversation with Yajisarath. The dragon is rather talkative today, she is.

Yajisarath cranes her head around, a draconic smirk on her golden face. Angel child she is. Ha! She obviously knows something about what Mneoth said and her serpentine tail is whisking across the frozen ground like there's no tomorrow. Yajisarath likes inside jokes and things that are funny only to dragons, yes. She also likes the color pink. But we shan't get into that now.

Living Caverns> Sinead nods slightly towards Lorsa before she stands. "Unfortunatly, I have to head off for a few," she notes with a sigh. "Though it was nice talking with you all, and meeting you. And, see you all later," with that she's out the door to the bowl.

Living Caverns> Ischoria waves a farewell to a Sinead and looks at the others. "I think she's in on it." she muses before taking another gulp of the refreashing tea, "Until later, friend."

Living Caverns> "Exhausted? One of two options. Snow or… the spiff brown quicker-picker-upper! Klah!" Miria squeals. Someone keep the klah awaaaaaay… Peer at Ischoria. "Hmmm, what's that tea made of?" She's interested now. Anything potent like klah is sure to interest.

Living Caverns> Elehu walks in slowly, one hand rubbing at her neck as she just stares at a couple klah pots for a moment. But it doesn't take too long before she shakes her head a little and heads towards a table nearer the kitchens where she begins picking out a skin of wine, and only once that's done does she turn to regard any of the others in the cavern at the moment, to whom she simply offers a nod here and there on her way to a table, and more importantly, a clean glass.

Khena's eyes narrow as a odd look of anger mixed with disappointment crosses her face. "You can't be serious, Mneoth… " Glancing back at Lhana, the rider seems to be measuring the haircutter with a different look in her eyes. The brown moves in closer, eyeing Lhana with whirling blue eyes, his warm breath whuffling her once more. Now. Do it. Wincing, Khena crosses her arms in front of her chest, leaning her head back as she closes her eyes. "I can't believe you're making me do this, Mneoth," she notes, taking a deep breath as she opens her eyes to glare at Lhana. "/He/" With empathis on he. "Wants you to Stand Chayath's clutch." Looking rather defeated, the brownrider turns to her lifemate, muttering through clenched teeth, "there! I asked her." Satisfied?

Living Caverns> Ischoria looks at Miria, obviously overcharged with Klah, "Just how many mugs of the brown stuff have you had today?" she asks. "Maybe you should have some of the Klah. It's largely infused with a nice anti-stimulant to get rid of the stress of my life."

Lhana turns to look at Yajisarath now, and that smirk makes her all that much more nervous. The cold is momentarily forgotten as her gaze flicks from Yajisarath to Mneoth to Khena and around the triangle again - leaving her not only confused, but slightly dizzy, as well. Finally, she stops to focus back on Khena. "What's - " Oh. Lhana gulps. "What?" she asks in supreme disbelief, her gaze flicking again to the three. And then - "Oh Faranth. You're serious." Then she gulps again, straightens her shoulders, and gives Khena a cool look, attempting to counteract her borderline-panicky breathing. "Well, then. I accept." And she gives a little smile. Apparently, the entirety of what she just agreed to has not yet sunk in.

Living Caverns> Lorsalia jaw-drops at Miria. "Er, no. nonono!" She shakes her head, hand pushed out in the sign for 'no'. "I don't need anymore klah." She yawns again and waves at the bowl. "Yajisarath says so."

Of course Khena's serious. The poor rider can only do as her lifemate demands. "Right, well.. You know where the candidate barracks are, don't you?" she asks, motioning toward the caverns as Mneoth's muzzle nudges her from behind. "She can find her own way…" A comment which only makes the nudging more pointedly. "Stop pushing, Mneoth. I'll fall over, and that's not what you want, right?" Throwing her arms up in a defeated motion, she turns to Lhana, straining to give her an approximation of a smile. "It's this way, Lhana.. And congratulation." The last bit added without much enthusiasm.

You go to the Living Caverns.
Living Caverns
The rough-hewn majesty of this cavern far outpaces any delight in the multitudes of curves that form its enclosure. The glabrous grey granite is shot through with translucent obsidian, lending subtly-veined sparkle to the walls and the foot-trodden smoothness of the floor that shows centuries-old placements of the scarred trestle tables; carven hollows give homes for the glow baskets and the coat-pegs that line the walls. No mosaics, no painting, no tiles: just a few well-done tapestries mark the pathway that lead to the kitchen to the north and the inner caverns to the west, and frame the nighthearth's stew and snacks, while a heavier strip of oiled canvas shields the unwary from the wind in the bowl.
Scattered about in various perches and niches are fifty-three firelizards.
Lorsalia, Siannen, Miria, and Elehu are here.

Lhana glitters in from the Central Bowl.

Miria hears a husky guard-voice yelling from outside. Rushing up to the door, she yells back, "I'm bloody coming, coming…" She turns back to Lorsa and Sinead. "Gotta go. I think one of the guards might have discovered my sweets stash." With that she goes. Miria exchanges the protection of stone for the bowl outside.

Elehu continues on her merry way and takes a seat, pulling a tall mug towards herself. Hey, it holds liquid, and that's good enough for now. She then proceeds to fill said mug with the red liquid from the wineskin before putting the stopper back and stretching her legs out under the table. "So. What's new?" she asks in a bored tone of anyone who feels like answering.

Lorsalia looks up when Lhana enters, having heard the news. She stands slowly, as if her body doesn't want her to, and quick-steps towards the girl. "Here, lemme take you in, alright? Congratulations, by the way. I didn't realize that was why Jisa wanted you out there." She giggles.

Ischoria looks at Elehu and hold up the kettle. "Tea? My own brew. But I should be getting along as well… More healer lessons. May I see you around the weyr."

Ischoria opts for broad stairs that lead up to the Crafting rooms above the inner caverns.

Lorsalia steps into the shadows that lead back into the Weyr.
Lhana steps into the shadows that lead back into the Weyr.

Candidate Barracks> Lorsalia and Lhana are here.

Candidate Barracks> Lorsalia pauses in the doorway while the drudge brings the cot in, then waves at the room. "Well, here you are, Lhana. As a candidate, you're the lowest rung on the ladder of the Weyr, so if someone asks you to do a chore, your best bet is to probably do it." She teases, then adds, "And you'll want to begin making your candidates robes before long, y'know? And all that stuff. I'm sure someone who's actually in charge of keeping all you candidates in good shape will tell you that kind of stuff later on."

Muttering under her breath, Khena proceeds toward the food table, having been relieved of Lhana. Never making it there, she winces, and slumps into the closest chair. "That hurt," she blurts out, folding her hands over her belly.

Candidate Barracks> Lhana looks around her and…gulps. Candidate…Barracks…yes… "Uh." She says, as inarticulate as she's ever been. "Yeah. Okay. Thanks." Or something like that. As she listens and looks around, she feels herself just rather begin to shrink. "Oh Faranth. I can't believe I'm actually doing this," she mutters under her breath.

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