Shaela becomes a Candidate (clutch 2)

6th November 1998
Logged by L'shil


Catia and Narali walk in.

<High Reaches Weyr> Piccath senses that Tiareth is home, and declares herself so.

<High Reaches Weyr> Piccath senses that Myrineth just stirs from sleep, half-heartedly declaring herself glad that Tiareth is so.

Catia pulls Narali to the edge of the lake shore, waving over at L'shil and Shaela. "Look who's here!"

<High Reaches Weyr> Piccath senses that Trebinth proclaims himself not to be home, yet. though he will be soon. weyr beware.

Shaela has no clue what all that means anyway, so gives L'shil a practiced blank look, and shrugs. "Okay?" she says simply, tucking her hands behind her back. A voice from behind catches her attention, and she turns. Catia and person. Erm, person. "Who's that?" she whispers loudly to L'shil.

<High Reaches Weyr> Piccath senses that Xeth adds in a dusty welcome back for Tiareth. Dont' want to lose her.

<High Reaches Weyr> Piccath senses that Tiareth thinks « Be Weyr? »

Blue eyes beaming bright as they fix on her youngest son, Narali waves down to at L'shil - one hand on Catia's shoulder for balance. They're at the boggy end.

L'shil, occupied in trying to get the straps off an unusually wriggling Piccath, gets just the barest glimpse. "Mother! You came! How are you? Shae, I want you to meet my mother, Master Healer Narali. Mother, I want you to meet Shaela, one of my best friends. You both already know Catia."

<High Reaches Weyr> Piccath senses that Mayuth pokes a twining jewel-toned welcome in among the others.

<High Reaches Weyr> Piccath senses that Kyleth adds in his own trademark burbled melody greeting just not be left out.

Catia slogs through the marsh to better ground, chuckling at L'shil. "I should say I know your mother… and Shaela too." Even if sometimes Cat would rather not admit it.

Shaela knows Catia, yes she does. The greenrider is granted a smile, though perhaps not quite a broad one as she might have been given were Taesha with her. But it's a smile nonetheless. Narali, on the other hand, receives a wide-eyed grin, and a loudly exclaimed, "Hi!"

Narali trails after Catia, edging as close to Piccath as she dares. "Good-day to you, Shaela, Piccath… don't I get a hug, L'shil?" she demands.

L'shil winces as Piccath prances. "At this point, not unless you want Piccath to try and give you one, too. I don't know what's up with him."

Narali looks definitely disappointed, but takes a step back from the bouncing brown. "Alright…. how are you then?" Mothers - don't think to think they may be interrupting something.

Catia steps back too, eyeing Piccath with undiguised curiosity. "Everything alright, L'shil?"

"A pleasure to meet you," Shaela remembers her manners; grin softens to a welcome smile. Violet eyes observe the reunion with only a twinge of jealousy for what she herself lacks, but that aside, she watches it with an equivalent amount of interest, too. The relationship of mother and child; unknown to her.

L'shil ums. And ums again. Never could tell her anything but the absolute truth. "Much better than I was… Shae, will you sit on him or something? He's babbling utter nonsense." As though he doesn't do that himself. "He won't let me take his straps off, but he says he wants a bath. And /now/ I can't even tell what he wants, except that he /says/ he'll calm down for her. Beats me why…you haven't been feeding him treats on the sly, have you, Shae?"

Narali is used to dragons, even if this particular one isn't all /that/ well-known to her. With a warm smile for Shaela, the healer stares up at Piccath. "Well, if you're alright, Leshil… is he?"

Shaela feigns a mysterious look, and makes her admission with a blinked wink. "Of course," she tops of the remark with a giggle. "Just like I could sit on him and hold him down." Sarcastic humour, sure, but Shae always has preferred that kind.

L'shil rolls his eyes. "I think so. Could be it's a…" He blushes and trails off, not finishing whatever he was gong to say. "Just try /something, please, Shae? Please?"

"Just a green?" Catia finishes, shaking her head a bit. "If it is, then Shaela's not going to do anything…." Cocking her head to one side, she checks. No, it's not Myrineth.

Shaela eyes L'shil curiously: he's serious about this. "You want me to what? Keep him entertained?" she inquires, scratching her head absently.

L'shil gulps. "Well, that's not really what I was going to say, Catia, but…" Digging himself deeper. "Sure! Why not? IT doesn't take much, Shae." He's very earnest.

"If you keep Piccath entertained, then L'shil can have a quick chat with me… I can't stay all that long here. I already visited with F'ral, and with Catia's baby." Narali suggests with a puzzled look.

L'shil adds his pleas to his mother's. "Well, if you don't want to do that, you could try and undo his straps? Or, you know, just sit on him? He does behave his best when someone besides me is on him…"

Shaela grins at Lesh's joke, nodding in complete agreement. Still, a puzzled look remains on her face as she debates how to entertain/distract Piccath. "You wanna, uhm, dance, Quirky?" she suggests finally, her voice constricted as though unsure. "Like this," she demonstrates in the familiar down-up-up of a waltz. This should confuse him enough, especially considering how long it took Shae to figure it out.

Narali gives Shaela as curious a look as she earlier gave to Piccath, moving steadily closer to her son. "You don't /still/ call him Quirky, do you?" Another maternal rhetorical question.

Piccath watches, and stills. What is the girl doing that's so, well, girlish?

Shaela tosses a glance L'shil-wards. Is this working? The steps continue, whether Piccath tries to copy or not. Shae likes to dance. "Like this," Shae urges, turning her gaze back to the brown, feet moving more deliberately.

L'shil bounds over to Narali, "Not so much, recently. It's been hard enough keeping track of which of us is which without using nicknames. But Catia and I got it cleared up, mostly."

Piccath has the abstracted look of total concentration. Swirling dress on Shae, swirling eyes on Piccath… Next thing you know, he might try to partner her. There's never any telling with him.

Catia watches Shaela out of the corner of her eye, nodding to L'shil. "Nearly there," she confirms, clearly pleased with the progress that's been made.

Narali nods, features softening a little as she looks from greenrider to brownrider. She's clearly been worried, since Catia sent that message down… "I can't stay very much longer," she repeats, "although I will be back for a longer visit soon… I've negotiated being allowed to gather herbs in your meadows."

Of course, if Piccath tried to partner Shae, he'd probably end up trampling her. Big Piccath; little Shaela. But nonetheless, the girl does continue her attempts to get the brown dancing. "Left, right-left," she dictates the foot movements; swaying side to side as the steps carry her in one direction, then the other.

Catia has given up listening to Narali, and is watching Shaela instead; an odd smile quirked onto her face.

L'shil hugs Narali implusively. "I understand. I just wish you could visit more often. There's so much that's easier told face to face than by letter."

Piccath leans forward. Steadily, gaze fixed and brightest blue-green.

Narali looks over her tall son's shoulder at Shaela, distracted too a little. "I know dear… letters are important, though." She hugs him back tightly, letting go with a sad smile. "I'm just busy at Ista… and you are here." And L'shil's the one with the dragon, who's doing… what?

"Nonono," Shaela remarks on the leaning - bad posture. "Stand straight. And down-up-up," she emphasizes the beat. An occasional glance is tossed in the trio's direction, checking their progress, and seeing that they're still chatting, Shaela keeps demonstrating.

Piccath does. Take a step forward, and bob up-down-down. And ends up with Shaela nestled - where?

L'shil turns, so as to keep an eye on dragon while still conversing with his mother. Just in time to catch Piccath's manuver. "Oh, no! Shae? Shae, are you all right?"

"Lesh, what's your dragon doing /now/?" Catia asks - half-amused, half-exasperated.

"Should he be doing that?" are Narali's more sensible words.

Down-up-up, but who cares? Shaela's getting crushed! Well, not really. Just nestled snuggly between the brown's forepaws. "I'm fine!" Shae waves with only a mild look of alarm. And she will be, so long as Piccath doesn't tighten his grip.

Catia watches carefully, eventually assessing Shaela's words as truth: "She'll be alright," and giving a small shrug.

L'shil ums. "Actually, considering what he just told me, yes… Catia, could you bring Myrineth in, to see if she thinks Piccath is saying what I think he is?"

"Myrineth?" Catia is slow… then she nods, eyes glazing for the barest instant. "She's on her way."

"Myrineth?" Narali looks surprised, then mentally dismisses it as some dragonhealer thing.

Myrineth dives in from above.

Y'all could also try getting Piccath to release Shaela.. or is that too much to ask? At least he's distracted; even if his distraction is distracting everyone else. Meanwhile, Shaela twiddles her thumbs, figuratively, and waits helplessly. "This is not good posture either," she admonishes the brown quietly. "You're not a very good dancer."

Myrineth spirals down, settling onto the clay-bank not too far from the grouping. Catia doesn't move to her lifemate… just smiles gently, considering.

Piccath whuffles at her quietly, seeming highly pleased with himself. He doesn't seem to care much, now, about the dancing.

Narali fidgets, touching L'shil's shoulder lightly in query. Another one is voiced: "Are you sure you're alright, Shaela?"

L'shil nods. "I need some backup to make sure he's not meaning to tell me something different. Occaisionly, we do have communication problems." Such as the time Quirky wanted to announce to the weyrlings a whole private conversation Lesh was having with him.

Catia nods, gesturing towards the green. "I think she confirms what he's saying." And Catia for one doesn't sound surprised.

Shaela grins bravely at Lesh's mom, managing a nod. "Yep!" Kind of.

Narali grins back at Shaela, eyes twinkling. Poor girl, stuck up there with that mad brown of her son's… "Leshil, shouldn't you ask Piccath to put her down?"

L'shil beams and dashes forward to extract Shae. "Well, dear, I must offer you my congradulations - or should it be condolences? Piccath and Myrineth would like you to stand, and I must say I concur heartily!" Oops. His tounge slipped. "I'd hug you, but I think you'd slap me this time." And again. His mother will catch this, without a doubt. Oh well…

Catia just chuckles to herself, moving forwards to stand as close to Shaela as she can manage. "My apologies."

Narali stares - especially at L'shil - for a moment. Then shaking her head, she leaves the riders to do whatever they have to: heading back herself towards the main bowl and a lift to Ista. She does leave them with a bright smile and a wave for Shaela, though….

Shaela has waited her whole life for this moment, and run the whole thing over in her mind a gazillion times now. All that drops off the ledge now, though. First of all, she never expected to be asked to stand while being squooshed by a big, brown lump. Secondly, she never figured L'shil would ask. Because that'd be weird. It is weird. "A wha'?" she replies, nodding an affirmative. She's just a little more than mildly speechless.

L'shil chuckles. "A candidate. See, I told you. And you told me, too. You always were so confident. Not like me. I was convinced I'd be left on the Sands the first time, if not always."

"You'll do fine," Catia adds a soft reassurance… then suddenly looks guilt-stricken. "It's time for Taesha's feed! Ohh, I'll see you later…." Myrineth lumbers up obediently, and Cat scrabbles her way up the straps.

Myrineth extends a foreleg, enabling Catia to mount easily and settle herself between two neckridges.
Myrineth slaps the water with wings and tail and leaps aloft.

"Well, you obviously weren't," Shaela comes back down to Pern - or tries - returning focus to her predicament. "Can you let go, please, Piccath?" she tries to ask politely, and without too much giddy alarm.

Piccath has. Reluctantly. So that Lesh offers his concerned support.

L'shil sighs. "Are you all right? No, obviously… I should get you settled in."

"Thank /you/," Shaela turns as much disapproval as she can muster onto Piccath before getting herself a safe distance from the dragon. "Settled; right," she remarks, turning now to L'shil. "Mind if I get some things?" she inquires, none too sure of this part of the procedure.

L'shil nods, eyes suspiciously bright. "Sure, go ahead. You know where the others are staying?"

Shaela nods, chewing her lip to keep the grin down to a minimum. Wouldn't want to look /too/ excited. "Candidate dorms, just down the hall, right?"

L'shil bobs his head. "Got it in one. Now, scoot, you. I'll meet you outside it."

Shaela laughs, "Yessir!" she remarks, giggling at the orders. She starts away a little, then turns to look back. "Our bet's still on, right?" Eyes twinkle with mischief - can't let him forget about the bet.

L'shil chuckles. "Yes, it is. Don't worry about that."

Shaela gives one last giggle, then dashes off with a hurried wave.

(Move to Candidate Barracks)

L'shil quirks a brow at Shae as he helps her bring all her stuff in. "Sure you're all right? He was gentle, but you weren't expecting him to try dancing with you."

Shaela is only moderately bruised, probably, if that, but she puts on a brave face and noddles. Because she's /here/, and that's all that matters to her right now. No sooner has that look crossed her features, though, than a bewildered one takes over. "Lots of cots," she remarks.

L'shil nods. "Less than the last time I was here, though. Take care of yourself. I'll be seeing you around…" He makes an aborted movement forward, as though he was going to hug her, and then remembers the discussion about being slapped.

Shaela hardly notices the movement, and is already wandering off in the direction of a vacant slot of bedding. "Bye," she mentions, off-handedly; gathering up her things and shuffling her way to the cot.

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