Hold Courtyard
Crom hold's courtyard stretches out, its rooms standing tall against the   mountains behind.  Imposing and dark, the previous inhabitants have mostly   never thought much of decoration, but Crom's newest Lady Holder has taken it   to her personal attention to add joy and color to the rather barren   countryside.  A road leads out towards Telgar and the Hold's gather grounds, while little   trails by the hold take twists and turns to a pleasant garden, the stables,   the minercraft hall, and a charming and scenic trail through the valleys and   hills of the Crom Area.
It is a bright, cheery day.   It is a spring midday.
Perched somewhere up high, you see Morisette.
You see Evreth here. The following dragons are here: Ninalyth
From here you can go:
Hold Doors                Mine Hall                  Hold Gardens               Crom Road                 Stables                    Scenic Trail

Strethan walks in from Scenic Trail.

Resa exits the Hold and skids to a stop as she sees Strethan and run-walks to him, "Come on   Strethan.... there's a gold going up at Telgar!"  How she knows this is a   mystery...

Strethan ambles through with time on his hands, thinking how to fill it, when   he runs fortuitously into Resa and her message. "What? Say no more! Let's   saddle up!"

Resa pulls Strethan towards Evreth and climbs up...

The two mount the local transport dragon, Evreth and head to Telgar Weyr, where hopefully they'll find out if the rumor is true or not...

Center of the Bowl - Telgar Weyr
Steep, mountainous walls reach jagged arms towards the sky with steadfast   reverence and dwarf those that reside within its protective caverns. An   artist's palette of color swirls overhead as a multitude of dragons wing to   various destinations, their shadows sweeping gracefully across the cavernous   bowl. The soft scuffling of feet across sand can be heard as riders and weyrfolk   alike hustle past one another, some leaping up to the large neckridges of   restless lifemates, while others scurry off to the lower caverns. Small   whirls of sand dance across the floor as dragons transport their riders and   shuffle unsteadily on disproportionate limbs while the smell of the oil on   their hides mingles with the tantalizing aroma of roasted wherry and freshly   brewed Klah emanating from one of the many caverns.
It is a bright, cheery day.   It is a spring midday.
Flittering around, you see Blazer, Beithe, and Mikage.
You see DragonWing Wagon, Holly, Yrewth, and Evreth here.
The following dragons are here: Merclyth, Noirth, Emryth, and Fyseith From here you can go:
Eastern Curve             Lake                       Training Grounds           Feeding Grounds           Western Curve              Northern Curve

Resa is helped from Evreth's high shoulder by a hand from N'wel.

Resa waits for Strethan to dismount, her gaze darting here and there around   the bowl, trying to spot anyone she knows.  She was only told that there   /might/ be a flight today...

Strethan is helped from Evreth's high shoulder by a hand from N'wel.

Resa says, "I guess we can just explore the Weyr if anything..."

N'wel and Evreth prepare to return to their post.

Strethan slides off the brown and gives Evreth's foreleg a fond pat, thanking   N'wel before joining Resa and gazing around. "How'd you hear it anyway? one   of those mysterious harper secret kind of things?"

Evreth launches powerfully into the air!

From Sky Above the Center of the Bowl, Evreth vanishes into ::between:: with a   whip of the tail.

Resa laughs, "Hmm... yes... that's it.  "  Oh!  "I have something else to tell   you about!  Remind me later.."  She seems a little excited, perhaps a bit   awed with her news. Grabbing ahold of your hand she heads towards the Lake.    "Usually down this way is a good place to start..."

Strethan blinks and nods as he's pretty much dragged off toward the lake,   squeezing Resa's hand in his as his long legs help him keep up with her   excited stride. "Sure thing, i'll just, ah, ask you later then..."

Lake Shore
This sparkling white beach surround the immense lake providing the weyr folk   with plenty space for outdoor gatherings when weather permits. This is a   popular place for firelizards and their larger cousins to sun throughout the   turn. There are some stones, that remind you of stepping stones heading to the noisy   rock island in the middle of the lake.
It is a bright, cheery day.   It is a spring midday.
You see Demas, Hatching Rules, and Scouter here.
F'dall, K'no, F'rino, S'rien, Fiana, K'yo, and Cylara are here.
The following dragons are here: Lycaenth, Gaderith, Diamath, Xandrath,   Mnemandorth, Ceayrth, and Chesketh
From here you can go:
Lake                      Central Bowl                                          Training Grounds          Feeding Grounds

Resa blinks, coming to a stop as she spots the group...  perhaps the rumor was   correct? A glance is given to the male who she's dragging along by his hand.

Gaderith swishes his own tail back and forth slowly, as he tilts his head   forward, seemingly stretching his neck at the moment. But his whirling eyes   remain riveted on the gold, as he remains well back with the other dragons.   Oh he's suddenly interested, yes indeed. F'dall himself turns back again,   flipping his jacket back onto his shoulders, before he finally happens to   take in the gathering males with a careful eye. "What...?" he murmurs to   himself, raising a hand to scratch at his chin thoughtfully, as he leans back   against the bronzen flank of his lifemate.

K'yo gathers loops of riding straps together, a displacement activity to   offset the tension suddenly in the air. "I thought it had been only a little   time since your last swim," he says accusingly to Xandrath. "You could at   least be honest with me." The giant bronze head swings around to look   somewhat apologetically at the rider, as Xandrath steps away from the straps.   Orange tinges his swirling eyes, and he goes to settle nearer the lake - all   the better to spy on feet from.

S'rien visibly twitches with the urge to approach Fiana, but something tells   him he'd best save it and not do so now -- a half-glance at Ceayrth's side,   confirming it along with a comment from his tense lifemate.  "Well, that just   hitches it," he mutters to himself, arms coiling across his chest as he eyes   the others that seem to have found their way to this little gathering.  Face   readable like a book, a whole host of emotions flutter across it -- dark   flesh pulling and tensing as he frowns in alternating expressions.

Kentelth rumbled softly as he landed and S'dal slid down his glossy bronze   shoulder, landing with a soft *thump*.

K'no looks back up at the brown and pats him.  "So you want to take a dip?  So   long as you don't splash me." Even as he says it, Chesketh flicks his tail   and sends water all ofer the brownrider.  "Ack!"  K'no spins about to   reprimand the brown, but just sighs.  He waks away from the dragon, seeing   red start to easily flash in his eyes, followed by orange.

"Here we go   again." As if the signs of agitation weren't enough to betray her present   circumstances, Ceayrth's golden form begins to emit a pulsating luminescent   glow, tangible in palpitating waves of heat, a definite beacon to tip off any   passing males.  She rears back on her haunches, letting out an angry bugle.

Mnemandorth's eyes seem to be drawn to the gold, whirling quickly as the   bronze picks up on Ceayrth's mood.  Tail lashes slightly as he readies   himself for the inevitable; sleek muscles bunch in anticipation.  At the   onslaught of the golden glow, the bronze makes a slight bugling noise.  Angry   bugle is heeded as he steps away from the female.

Resa gives a somewhat shy wave to F'dall and Fiana as she sees the two of them   in the group, then waves to K'no.  Wow, perhaps she knows a few more here   than she first thought.  A squeeze is given to Strethan's hand as she pulls   him along a little further.  "hiya F'dall... Fiana... K'no."

Strethan slows to a stop beside Resa and looks across the gathering of general   folks. Nope, never doubt the rumor-mongering of an excited harper, even an   apprentice one. Looks like Resa had the inside information all right. He   glances at her, then scans the crowd again, trying to get a feel for exactly   what's happening at this moment. Strethan is of course quite willing to follow, nodding a greeting to F'dall   and company.

F'dall swallows slowly, beginning to clue in as well at the same time, and   Ceayrth's bugle all but confirms it. He tugs slowly at his jacket, and moves   to the side just a bit, away from his lifemate's haunch. Gaderith himself   rears up somewhat straighter, unfolding his wings just enough to flex them in   preperation. Oh yes...soon. He tosses his head back in tune with the others,   letting loose an answering bugle of his own, before settling down again on   all fours, his tail a constant writhe of motion in the sand behind him.

Diamath rides the waves of furious heat that emit from Ceayrth's form, his   wings lifting in a bold stance as he rears back as well, forelegs lifting to   touch the air.  Like a stallion defending his territory, he drops once again   only to paw at the loose sand, feeling the rush of what is to come as his   blood flows faster and the hungry need to blood is quickly upon him.  S'rien,   on the other hand, takes the clue instantly, as he finds himself literally   pushed away from his lifemate -- a vague expression of startlement crossing   his features.

 What's happening is a great bronze dragon stalking down a beach, much like a   very overgrown and somewhat unbalanced cat, towards a very angry gold with   whom he's been on the recieving end of her sharp claws, whilst his rider   becomes more and more entangled in riding straps not sorted correctly.   "Shards!" K'yo says sharply, and just drops the whole tangle on the ground.   Noone will take them.

Fiana scrambles back at her lifemate's adverse reaction to placation.  She   stares, wide-eyed, as her gold lets forth a call that rings all to true   through her bones.  She shivers and stands hurriedly, backing away from both   dragon and human forms.  "No.. No it's /not/ now, love... It's /not/!"

Ceayrth screams infuriatingly through the mindlink as she lets out another   angry cry to the unforgiving skies above, brassy hues whirling in angry   tones.  <<I thirst!  I must drink!  I burn!  I must fly!>>  Haunches tensing,   a passing apology swiftly sent to her lifemate, and the burning gold is   aloft, gliding towards the pens.

Ceayrth springs aloft with a great leap and ripples the surface of the lake   with the rapid downstrokes of gold wings.

From Sky Above the Lake, Ceayrth flies, gusty downstrokes bringing her toward   Sky Above the Feeding Grounds.

Xandrath springs aloft with a great leap and ripples the surface of the lake   with the rapid downstrokes of bronze wings.

Above the Lake, Xandrath soars easily on widespread wings toward Sky   Above the Feeding Grounds.

Kennelth springs aloft with a great leap and ripples the surface of the lake with   the rapid downstrokes of brown wings.

Mnemandorth springs aloft with a great leap and ripples the surface of the   lake with the rapid downstrokes of bronze wings.

K'no nods towards Resa a bit and follows suit with most of the other riders:   stepping away from the gold and such.  "Aye yi yi..." He mutters as he sits   down heavily.  Chesketh's eyes flicker with orange twangs much like an orange   lamp being lit.  The brown tenses up his muscles and releases, vaulting up   into the air as the gold and the others do.

Diamath springs aloft with a great leap and ripples the surface of the lake   with the rapid downstrokes of bronze wings.

Chesketh springs aloft with a great leap and ripples the surface of the lake   with the rapid downstrokes of brown wings.

From Sky Above the Lake, Diamath soars boldly toward Sky Above the Feeding   Grounds.

F'dall blinks and glances up in Resa's direction, as if seeing her for the   very first time. He gives no other form of acknowledgement however, as he   immediately backpedals away from Gaderith's side, almost tripping over   himself in the sand in the process. The bronze snorts once, emitting a deep   rumble before shaking his head once, and emitting another thunderous bugle.   Claws draw a single ragged line in the sand as he pulls them back, followed   by the other forelimb doing the same. His eyes have long since gone from   their gentle whirl to a deep, orange pulse...as he eyes the gold with a new   sense of interest, and desire. No sooner has she taken to the air, than he   follows, joining the throngs of dragon forms that lift skywards.

Gaderith springs aloft with a great leap and ripples the surface of the lake   with the rapid downstrokes of bronze wings.

From Sky Above the Lake, Chesketh flies toward Sky Above the Feeding Grounds. (Frosty) Mnemandorth flies toward Sky Above the Feeding Grounds.

From Sky Above the Lake, Mnemandorth flies toward Sky Above the Feeding   Grounds.

From Sky Above the Lake, Gaderith flies toward Sky Above the Feeding Grounds.

 Fiana saunters toward Outside the Feeding Pens.

S'rien strides lazily toward Outside the Feeding Pens.

K'yo walks toward Outside the Feeding Pens.

F'dall walks toward Outside the Feeding Pens.

F'rino walks toward Outside the Feeding Pens.

K'no walks toward Outside the Feeding Pens.

Resa blinks and looks back, deciding to follow the rest.

Outside the Feeding Pens
Standing by the fence that contains the Weyr's herd of herdbeast and wherry,   you're indulged with a fanstastic view of the whole feeding grounds.  The   grassy knoll usually has splashes of color as dragons come to feed thoughout   the day and evening. Terrified bleats can be heard, accompanied with the   frequent rumbles and roars of dining dragons as firelizards flitter about,   occasionally feasting with their larger cousins..
It is a bright, cheery day.   It is a spring midday.
Resting on the fence railing, you see Kiwi. Fiana, S'rien, K'yo, F'dall, F'rino, and K'no are here.
The following dragons are here: Tirelth
From here you can go:
Pens                      Central Bowl               Training Grounds           Lake Shore                Eastern Curve

Strethan walks in from Lake Shore.

 Strethan of course follows close behind Resa, taking everything in with an   intense expression.

Cylara walks in from Lake Shore.

S'rien follows almost blindly behind, his gaze centered upon Fiana already as   the emotion within his lifemate quickly begins to flare.  The bloodlust curls   hotly within his stomach, his normal carefree stance quickly dropped for an   intensity known only in few other situations, and as he approaches the   feeding pens, he halts completely, waiting .. always waiting.

 Fiana saunters toward Feeding Pens.

F'dall walks toward Feeding Pens.

F'rino walks toward Feeding Pens.

Cylara walks toward Feeding Pens.

Again, Resa follows the rest...

Feeding Pens
The cupric tang of life's energy hangs heavy in the air and whirls with a   nauseous glee across the wide expanse of feeding ground that takes up half of   the southern end of the bowl. The startled cries of herdbeast and wherry   alike are quickly muffled by the rapid descent of dragon bulk, soon to be   silenced forever, leaving behind a mottled pool of blood, the only testimony   that they ever existed. A twisted barrier of wood surrounds the outer   perimeter, keeping the beasts within the corral and, conveniently enough,   providing a perch for both human and 'lizard.
It is a bright, cheery day.   It is a spring midday.
Lounging on the pen rails, you see Frosty. Fiana, F'dall, F'rino, and Cylara are here.
The following dragons are here: Ceayrth, Xandrath, Diamath, Gaderith, and   Mnemandorth
From here you can go:
Bowl                      Watering Hole

 K'yo walks in from Outside the Feeding Pens.

S'rien strides lazily in from Outside the Feeding Pens.

K'no walks in from Outside the Feeding Pens.

S'dal licked his lips, the dragon lust already begining to take hold on him,   his eyes seem to whirl redly, glinting with orange, as his lifemate takes up   the chase for the young queen. Chesketh swoops down from above and quickly lands in an empty spot, surveying   the herds intently.

Strethan walks in from Outside the Feeding Pens.

Ceayrth floats aloft, a turmoil of golden hues, as her eyes scour the   screaming band of fleeing creatures below for a suitable target.  Roiling   rumble as of thunder and the great shadow storm cloud descends upon the   frenzied creatures, snatching one from its brethren's midst and snapping it's   neck with a twist of her great claws, dropping to the ground with the limp   carcass in her grasp.

F'dall makes his own way into the feeding pens at the same pace as the others,   though no less with sudden intense need for what comes. His eyes wide, his   facial features almost seeming to be strained, he keeps his hands balled into   tight fists, eyes returning again and again to Fiana, as he tries to   concentrate on what's happening right now.

Never trust the enemy behind your back.  Fi swivels about, panting through   clenched teeth as she fights for control over herself, control of her   lifemate, control of the situation--all while walking backwards.  Heated gaze   tears a line of fire across the faces around her... S'rien; her face twists   in confusion, then slides her blue eyes to F'dall.  She grows angry, brows   knitting as she hisses curses of betrayal.  Hisses that whisper to silence as   she notices the ring of 'riders all around her.  Trapped.

Chesketh swoops down like a hawk on a grazing herd beast, snapping it's neck   like a twig.  The brown slashes the animal's neck open with voracious greed   and and gulps down the hot, crimson liquid that spurts forth.  K'no blanches   and looks away and runs his hand down his face, sickly.

Resa pads in, way behind the rider group, still holding on to Strethan's hand.   Curiousity will be her downfall one of these days!  Standing off to the side,   she watches the dragons, silently cheering on a certain bronze friend.

Diamath flows silently across he sky after his true prey, chasing the golden   tail of Ceayrth as intently as any predator stalking his next meal, yet as   the sight of the running herds comes into his field of vision, he turns his   attention quickly.  Spinning with an agility only his smaller bronze form   could manage, he turns and crashes suddenly onto the back of a squealing   beast, claws sinking into flesh and bone with a sickening crunch as he takes   it to the ground.  Within moments, his teeth have ripped into the herdbeast's   neck, crimson flowing freely and adorning his muzzle as he gluts upon his   victim's blood.

Gaderith spirals once above the others, even during the moment of bloodlust,   careful in his approach with his thick bulk. He swoops low over the herd,   darting across the entire length of screaming animals, before suddenly   descending onto one unfortunate creature with a front talon. The earth is   fairly kicked up in his wake as he tears a groove along the ground, landing   at a same time.  The sheer weight and impact having killed the herdbeast   instantly. With a toss of his neck, he bugles once more, before turning and   sinking his teeth deeply into the carcass, drinking of its lifefluid   greedily, his wings held out to both sides, as if to ward off all   competitors.  F'rino's face hardens into stress lines as he himself concentrates on the   situation at hand.  Blue eyes narrow as his lifemate plunges upon an   unsuspecting herdbeast.  Gritting his teeth, the bronzerider keeps a strong   hold on his dragon, making sure to only allow him to blood.  Must.  Keep.    Control.

Kentelth snarls a savage cry as he swoops down onto the back of the first buck   he sees and promptly and clamps his mouth over the neck onto a main vein and   sucks the carcass dry as a bone, promtly and precisely droping toward   another...

F'dall glances once in Fiana's direction, no remorse...no regret right now. He   has no time for such emotions at the moment. Fingers balled so tightly that   they almost press painfully into his palms, he forces himself to stare   straight at his feeding lifemate, eyes narrowed to tight slits,   concentrating. Blood, only the blood. Not the flesh...

 The canvas of S'rien's face holds true to the emotions that fight within him,   the need to comfort and quell Fiana's anger coming first, though even in this   moment of confusion, he knows better.  Dark hands ball into fists at his   sides, his body standing stiffly to face the Fiana in what will no doubt be a   battle to an end, but not 'the' end.  The rest of the world quickly swirls   into a crimson haze, bloodlust flooding him through the strong link that is   maintained between he and his lifemate.

Ceayrth drinks greedily of the crimson font, rending the flesh of the beast   beneath her to shreds as she drains it of all vital fluids.  Raising her   blood smeared muzzle to the skies, she screams her frustration and her   thirst, rising again to take down another quaking beast, rending it lifeless   where it falls and draining it of the precious life's blood.

S'dal's shakes as he fights to control this savage dragon-lust, so strongly   flowing in his veins, crying out to be let free and do what it wills. His   clenched fists give evidence to the tumiol within...who will win?

Strethan grips Resa's hand in his, pulling her closer by his side as he   watches the  seeming near-chaos through slightly narrowed, studious eyes.   Like Resa, he's wishing a certain bronze friend (and that bronze's rider) all   the luck in the world.

Xandrath watches from his low flight, watches the other dragons and the   animals they pick - perhaps judging his competition as well as his prey.   Hunger wins over strategy, though, and he folds copper hued wings and plunges   onto the nearest running beast, mouth clamped instantly onto the delicate   neck, ripping muscle and tendon and all between before he has completed   landing. A low, almost subsonic growl radiates from his own long metallic   throat between long swallows of his prey's lifeblood.

Resa gulps, watching the riders take their own stands, watching them maintain   holds on their life-mates. She steps back into Strethan's embrace as her eyes   widen, watching the dragons blood their kill, skin draining of color for a   moment.  Through it all, she remains curious about the whole deal.

Kentelth shakes his head free of the carcass, drips of drop flowing down his   bronze neck and pieces of the wherry hanging from his teeth. He shakes his   head back and forth violently, to send pieces of gore and blood everywhere.

Diamath keeps pace with the greedy queen as best he can, leaving his nearly   finished prey to seek another to support the upcoming expenditure of precious   energy, for he knows what comes, and prepares.  With a sharp hiss, he vaults   into the sky, sparing not a single moment for the others that likewise fuel   themselves upon the beasts' blood -- his weight taking a second victim upon   which he feasts intently.

Fiana is fortunate enough to have a lifemate that knows better what to do than   she--at least that's how she sees things.  She licks her lips, nervously...   eyes fluttering as she's flooded with the sensations coursing through   Ceayrth.  Anger.  Heat.  Frustration.  That sharding /heat/!  Her fingers   splay over the small shift covering her, damp with lakewater, and she tugs at   it--a need to release this heat becoming an overwhelming sensation through   her.

Chesketh bugles lowly as the beast's corpse falls, and looks for another   victim, orange and red tinted orbs running over possible canidates, then   swooping down on a second beast, who gets no more than a suprised blurt out   before it's life-line is slashed open and the lifeblood drained from it's   bodies.  K'no grits his teeth.  Good.  No more than blood, Chekseth.

Gaderith rumbles once more, lifting his blood stained muzzle as he glares   towards the gold for a few seconds, then turns to catch another fleeing   herdbeast as it struggles to get free. A talon swipe downs the unforutnate   creature, before he pounces on it once again, finishing off what he started   and delving deeply into the flesh, to remove every last trace of crimson   within it. F'dall meanwhile has enough to worry about, closing his eyes for   the moment, and finally raising a clenched fist to touch to his forehead.   Control. Even then, he finally opens his lids, biting at his lower lip and   casting a glance back to Fiana again, never able to keep his eyes from her.

Mnemandorth flies fast and hard, bugling loudly, before diving upon a   herdbeast.  Screaming with lust and hunger, he drinks the blood of the beast   before dropping the body.  Launching his powerful form up into the air, the   bronze again circles the pens, and again descends upon another unfortunate   herdbeast.

Strethan moves his hands to grip Resa's shoulders with firm reassurance and he   whispers to her as they watch the blooding proceed, "Don't let it get to   you... it's just the natural way of things." he gives her shoulders an extra   squeeze of reassurance.

K'yo shakes sand from his hair and shoulders, trying to focus on a here and   now of his own person before he lets himself surrender to the instincts of   chase and flight and...  He moves closer to Fiana, keeping only the distance   to not be of more threat than would be safe for anyone. Narrowed brown eyes   flick out to his dragon in the pens, watching as another beast's life is   ended, struggling with his own mind to stay /here/ where /he/ is, until this   group of riders is moved to a safer haven.

The heat.  That horrendous heat slowly becomes too much to bear as the glow   upon golden hide adds new light to the day, Ceayrth downing one last beast to   rend it limb from limb as she drinks to quench the thirst and cool the heat.    It is not enough and she knows, now, what she must do.  The skies beckon and   she answers their call, rising aloft to cool her burning flesh.

Ceayrth launches powerfully into the air, scattering the various groups of   herdbeast into a tizzy.

S'rien shudders visibly the tension gathering within his body heating his form   as well, the sweat gathering upon his brow to trickle down his dark face in   slick paths.  His eyes do not narrow, for he craves to see, the overwhelming   need to watch Fiana like a hawk, settled into him, rooted deeply in his   consciousness.

Xandrath launches powerfully into the air, scattering the various groups of   herdbeast into a tizzy.

Diamath launches powerfully into the air, scattering the various groups of   herdbeast into a tizzy.

Mnemandorth throws back his head and issues his challenge.  Bronzen throat   works as the great beast launches after the glowing gold.  Muscles ripple and   move allowing bones to launch him sleekly through the air.  Climbing the   heights, his wings beat a steady beat.

Mnemandorth launches powerfully into the air, scattering the various groups of   herdbeast into a tizzy.

Chesketh launches powerfully into the air, scattering the various groups of   herdbeast into a tizzy.

Gaderith rends back the last of the herdbeast he had been drinking from,   tilting his head upwards to follow the gold's sudden ascent. He makes no move   to dart after her right away....no, this is now where he must do what he does   best. He must plot, and be cautious. With that, he rears up on his own hind   legs and launches upwards in chase, spiralling wildly with each powerful beat   of his wings.

Gaderith launches powerfully into the air, scattering the various groups of   herdbeast into a tizzy.

Fiana's knees buckle, mind raising with her lifemate's body, though her own   stays penned to the ground.  Thankfully, her hand finds a fencepost before   she finds herself on the ground.  With effort, and a growl, she stands, blue   eyes containing nothing but glaring resentment for each and every person   around her.  She snarls, then snaps open the gate, making a run for it as her   lifemate finds freedom in the air.

Kentelth launches himself into the air, flying after Ceayrth with a purpose,   to catch her. <<I'm coming my pretty!>>

Fiana saunters toward Outside the Feeding Pens.

F'rino walks toward Outside the Feeding Pens.

F'dall draws a long, shuddering breath as Gaderith lifts skywards, his hands  out  trembling now. No sooner has that happened, then he turns, to watch Fiana   once again, even as she makes her break for it, immediately moving to follow   after.

Diamath whirls from the ground rapidly, caught in the middle of   taking a third victim in his utter greed, his claws wet and bloodied, muzzle   stained crimson as he feels the heat of his feeding spreading rapidly through   his muscular frame.  Wings lashing out with a snapping hiss through the air,   he soars after the golden queen, not a single sound coming from his body but   for the whistle of wind over his wings annd tail.

Chesketh hisses and drops the lifeless body on the ground and spins   his head towars the glowing gold as she launches into the air, and he follows   suit, hind legs uncoiling powerfully, like a great spring's tension was let   loos and he snaps his wings open, catching the nearest updraft and eaisly   cruising up after the bronzes and the gold.  The brown's eyes, which now   resembles fire roiling inside two large crystal balls, search about for the   target of the frenzy: the glowing gold.  He sees her and looks his sight on   her.

Following the riders, Resa and Strethan find themselves in the Center of the Bowl once more...

Center of the Bowl
Steep, mountainous walls reach jagged arms towards the sky with steadfast   reverence and dwarf those that reside within its protective caverns. An   artist's palette of color swirls overhead as a multitude of dragons wing to   various destinations, their shadows sweeping gracefully across the cavernous   bowl. The soft scuffling of feet across sand can be heard as riders and weyrfolk   alike hustle past one another, some leaping up to the large neckridges of   restless lifemates, while others scurry off to the lower caverns. Small   whirls of sand dance across the floor as dragons transport their riders and   shuffle unsteadily on disproportionate limbs while the smell of the oil on   their hides mingles with the tantalizing aroma of roasted wherry and freshly   brewed Klah emanating from one of the many caverns.
It is a bright, cheery day.   It is a spring midday.
Flittering around, you see Blazer, Beithe, and Mikage.
You see DragonWing Wagon, Holly, and Yrewth here.
The following dragons are here: Merclyth, Noirth, Emryth, and Fyseith From here you can go:
Eastern Curve             Lake                       Training Grounds           Feeding Grounds           Western Curve              Northern Curve

Resa stumbles along after the riders as they leave the pens, yet pauses.  She   knows where they're headed, and knows also that others aren't allowed in.    She looks back, her eyes trying to pick up the dragons in flight, trying to   see who's in the lead to catch the golden queen but by now, they are too   high.. too far to see.  A tremble is felt as it moves through her.  She gives   Strethan a lopsided smile as she turns back to him, "Well... seems the   rumor.. was true.  I hope Gaddy wins her.."  She faintly notices she's still   holding onto Strethan's hand from pulling him all over the weyr in her   excitment.

Strethan 's gaze is distant, lingering on the sky where the flight dwindles.   He's not too steady affot either thanks to his attention to the flying   dragons, but he's pulled back to the ground by Resa's words. "Never doubt a   harper," he tells her with a return grin, giving her fingers a fond squeeze.   "I hope he wins too... I want to see him as a proud papa. Soooo..." He   glances at the disappearing riders, "...Now what?"

Resa hmms, looking around the weyr, "Well, we can stay here and look around or   go back to Crom.."  She shrugs, letting you decide.

Trouble has arrived.

Trouble pops in from ::between::

Strethan nods, arm draping Resa's shoulder as he looks across the bowl. "Well,   since everybody we know here is, ah... busy, maybe we should... wait, i've   got it! I wonder if their resident Healers are around?"

Resa hmms, "I don't know. Guess we could check on that..."  She turns her   head, offering a bright smile to Strethan.

Strethan smiles back beamingly and half-bows. "You've been here before, so   lead on m'lady."

Resa frowns for a moment as she gets her barings, then shrugs and heads   towards the Living Caverns, figuring if the Healers aren't there, then she   can just ask someone.

Resa grabs ahold of Strethan's hand and pulls him off again. :>

Northern Curve of the Bowl
A symphony of sounds resonate off the weathered face of the cliff as raucous   activity dominates this side of the bowl. Wisps of conversations can be heard   as weyrfolk to and from the living cavern while riders, brandishing full   stomachs, head back to restless lifemates. Shallow grooves, made by powerful   talons, mar the sandy floor and make walking a bit tricky as you try to   navigate through patchy crowds of people in search of your next destination.
It is a clear, crisp evening   It is a spring evening.
The following dragons are here: Azraeth, Sazarith, Janareth, Palsth, Lhanath,   Chesketh, Alabeth, Xandrath, Pyranth, and Rosalth
From here you can go:
Central Bowl              Tunnel                     Eastern Curve              Living Cavern             Western Curve              Ground Weyrs

Trouble has arrived.

Trouble pops in from ::between::

Alabeth is just settled into her place, dozing softly as she watches the   people stroll to and fro through the Bowl and into the Living Cavern. Now and   again, she lifts her head to blow a dragonbreath-scented greeting at one or   two.

Strethan walks in from Center of the Bowl.

Resa glances around, pulling Strethan by a hand towards the Living Caverns as   she goes.  Her glance slides over dragons resting here and there, laughing at   the green as she raises her head.  "Good eve to you, Lady.."

Trouble flapflapflaps through the air, darting and weaving as he chases after   spring bugs that flit through the air. Crunching down on one particularly   juicy flier, he then turns around in a small circle, orbiting downwards   towards the nearest gathering, and landing on Alabeth's muzzle with a little   *plop*, where he sits and begins to devour the insect like he owned the   perch.

Strethan follows with a firm grip on Resa's hand as he takes it all in. It   will take more than a handful of visits to a weyr to take the shine off the   experience for him. Grinning warmly at their green observer, he touches two   fingertips to his brow in salute to her. "Evenin', green lady..." he echoes   Resa's greeting.

Rosalth watches hawkishly, her tailtip flicking with interest.

Alabeth of course doesn't answer with anything more than her usual steamy   snort. Ugh. Wherry-breath. Her eyes are pleased and green, however. She is   curled comfortably about herself, letting her Lifemate have a drink while she   sits and apparently discusses the evening with the other dragons. Of course,   with so much to see, she's also pausing in her chit-chat to see just who is   passing by. And, apparently, to become a brown firelizard's perch. With a   curious croon, her eyes nearly cross as she tries to see it, her mind adding   a sputter of curiosity in the air. Her tail twitches, almost catlike, in a   briefly amused motion. Hey, you!

Strethan can't resist a wave to each of the other recumbent dragons, almost   like he were on parade.

Resa watches Trouble, then giggles as he perches on Alabeth's nose.  She   quirks an eyebrow, though she knows nothing about the dragon, she sure hopes   that she's a nice one or Trouble might become a thing of the past!  Resa   glances around, spotting a gold sitting off to the side and nods a greeting   to her also, thinking she looks familiar.  Gaze darts back to the green in   time to see whirling eyes cross?  Another stifle giggle escapes her mouth.

Trouble lifts what remains of the tiny winged insect and crunches it down   noisily, flicking his head to the side as he bolts down his small meal. With   a tiny cheep, he hops around to face back towards those two crossed eyes,   tilting his head to one side quizzingly. Who me? I -like- it here.

Strethan pulls his head back slightly a the decidedly odd, amusing sight of a   dragon's eyes nearly crossing. Watching the brown flitter imperiously holding   court on Alabeth's muzzle as the green tries to peer at simply proves to   much, and choked laughter fills the air as Strethan has to stop.

Resa laughs, pointing to the brown flit, "That's... hmm.. Trouble I think.    He's one of F'dall's three..."

Strethan forces himself to sober and nods solemnly. "Oh yes. He's Trouble all   right." Shaking his head, he barely contains another fit of chuckling.

Alabeth tilts her head as she inspects the firelizard perching on her nose.   Hey there! Another soft snort tries to dislodge the tickly thing so she   doesn't end up sneezing it off. People are forgotten for the moment with this   new and interesting game.

Resa tries to stop the giggles, yet only makes them worse as she watches the   green inspect Trouble, "Perhaps...  that's how he got his name.."  She shakes   her head, looking towards the living caverns then back at the dragons and   flit.

Trouble clings to Alabeth's nose for a few seconds more as he holds onto the   perch definatly, tiny claws holding purchase on dragonhide. But before too   long, another insect darts past, flitting and pulling circles through the   air, and heading onwards. Attention span is switched rather quickly, and with   a fluttering of wings, the little brown takes off in pursuit, coincidentally   following it into the living caverns themselves.

Trouble flitters toward Main Living Cavern.

Resa laughs, then gives the dragons another wave before seeming to follow the   flit. "Good night dragons...  "

Strethan smirks, and releases Resa's hand. "Just a second..." He steps closer,   towards the green and her new rider... and stops, watching the brown   firelizard choose that exact moment to finally move. "Figures," he mutters,   meeting Alabeth's gaze and giving her a shrug and a 'what can you do?" look.   "Shall we, Resa?"

Main Living Cavern
Melodic laughter rings throughout the spacious cavern as riders socialize with   one another, boasting of adventures a-dragonback, and gossiping about stodgy   wingleaders and sordid affairs. Drudges rush past you, their arms laden with   dishes and mugs of Klah, desperate to relieve themselves of their burden   while pesky 'lizards inhibit their progress. The light from the glows warmly illuminates the domed cavern and shimmers off   the walls as miniscule mineral particles reflect the soft lighting like   twinkling stars blanketed in a wintry gray sky. Numerous tables lie scattered   across the room, some large enough to hold a whole wing of riders while   others were made only for two.  Towards the back, a large hearth breathes   soul soothing warmth into weary bodies as its flames dance with hypnotic   grace and puppet flickering shadows across the spacious stone stage.       Sultry, mouth-watering aromas float in from a small archway that leads to the   kitchens while chattering can be heard emanating from a wide hallway. Flopped atop various perches are Neriset, Chickadee, and Trouble.
You see Q'uest and S'am here. Marredoc, Triani, K'sh, K'ren, and Toria are here.
From here you can go:
Lower Caverns             Bowl                       Infirmary                  Kitchen                   Gaming Room

Trouble flits into the living cavern, rising and ducking with the path that   his prey takes, in the form of a rather big-winged insect that tries   desperately to evade its pursuer. It ducks, rolls, veers and does just about   everything it can, but the little brown flit stays right on its tail. In a   final bit of desperation, it flies down, to land right in the middle of an   occupied table, immediately followed by the predator leaping onto it and   snapping it up. *CRUNCH!* Ew.

K'ren smirks at K'sh and plays his part, "And who would risk that?  Pyranth is   brooding you know.  He's liable to start tossing random things over the   ledge.  Quite possibly me if I continue to poke fun at him."  A wink then,   followed by an outright laugh as a certain bronze shares his private opinion   of that. Toria catches him off guard with her question and he stumbles over   a reply, "Ah... well, I was entertaining.  And... the chair was there...   uh... so I stood on it."

Triani had quite honestly slipped into some sort of a daydream -a rather long   and extensive one by all accoundts. it is not untill some newcomer's steps   sound beyond the 'rider's droning conversation, that she comes back to the   here and now with a disgruntled blink. Fingers attempt to rake through her   hair, but are stopped with some snarkl or another. Alone, and more than happy   for that fate, attention goes back to her work.

Strethan has arrived.

Resa pulls Strethan in behind her, laughing as she enters the caverns.  She   leans closer to Strethan, "I didn't know a dragon's eyes.. could cross!"  She   looks around, quieting as she notices the others in the room.  A nod is given   around the group. "Good eve..."  She smiles, "Good eve again Triani."  A   frown covers her face for a brief moment, knowing Toria looks familiar, and   by glancing at her knots, remembers where she's met the Weyrwoman before.   "Good eve to you also Weyrwoman."

K'sh grins again, this time with unabashed amusement at that thought.   Entertaining. Hmm. Toria's attentions are noted, and K'sh glances over   towards her as well, his own grin still in its place as he notes, "Oh, I'm   sure that a green dragon can have him distracted away from his annoyance long   enough to get you laying down. I'm sure he'd understand, after all." Trouble   is distantly noted, and the crunch doesn't even make him wince. Pester does   it aaalll the time, after all.

Strethan is still shaking softly with lingering giggles, "I've never seen   -anything- like it..." His voice trails off as Resa goes quieeter and more   serious, and he straightens as he realizes the company they ae in. Drawing   himself up with mustered dignity, he also gives each of the others a   respectful nod. "Good eve to you all. I hope you fare well?"

Toria blinks, then chuckles again.  Through her mirth she muses,   "Entertaining... "  Leaning back into her chair, she considers this as the   tiny glass is emptied.  As people and lizards begin to file in, her attention   strays, fingers twittering greetings as her shiny eyes take in each one by   one.

Trouble swallows the tiny morsel with little more than a quick flip of his   head, finally curling his tail around himself as he has a good look at those   around the table, tiny eyes whirling brightly. A few hops draw him closer to   where Toria sits, as he begins to sneaksneak forward, until reaching the end   of the table and leaning waaaaay over, starting to sniff at the weyrwoman   carefully. Any food on this one?

Strethan shakes his head minutely as his eyes drift to track Trouble. This   little brown is as shameless as any firelizard he's ever seen, for sure.

Resa drops Strethan's hand, Nope, she wasn't holding it...  another smile is   given, perhaps trying to pull glances away from what her hand was doing.    Darn hand has a mind of it's own sometimes.  Trouble catches her eye and she   starts giggling again.  "He's rightly named!  "  Hands brush against a pouch   on her hip, surprised that her own flit has stayed away all afternoon.

K'ren rolls his glass between a couple of fingers and levels an amused glance   on K'sh, "And why would I want to lay down?  I just got up.  I spent quite a   bit of time kissing the floor, you know."  He takes a long sip from his glass   and nudges the whiskey bottle towards Toria's empty one, "More?  This is much   too good to waste."

Triani bobs her head in an abscent-minded greeting to Resa as she moves to   stand, somehow managing to gather up her amazing accumulation of /stuff/   without a single thing to e dropped. It truely is impressive. She does waver   under the mass of the mess, both hands quite full. "the office will /have/ to   do." She manages a abreiviated nod of farewell to those about just before she   near to waddles out of the room.

Triani goes home.

Strethan coughs almost inaudibly to catch esa's attention, glancing sidelong   at her and nodding towards one of the exits from the main cavern. No need to   disturb these good people while they are enjoying a good drink. Surely   someone else will know the way to the resident dragonhealers' quarters.

K'sh takes his own drink, savoring the burn with slightly watering eyes.   Obviously, he's not used to drinking anything quite as strong as this. He   doesn't argue the offer of more, though, setting his glass down in case Toria   offers a refil. "Plenty of things to do once you're laying down." he states,   simply. A lewd grin is followed by, "And I'm sure a few of them could help   you forget the headache." The clearing-throat wanders his eyes that way,   against his own will, though his grin never abates for a moment.

Resa watches the herder leave, then looks back to the group, wondering if she   dares to interrupt them. Catching Strethan's cough, she nods and moves off   with him.  Perhaps someone else will know.

Toria batbats at the brown, "Be off with you or my brood will be sure to   appear."  She'd never hit the firelizard, but the breeze created by her   batting hand can be distracting.  Agreeable to K'ren's offer, the Weyrwoman   holds out her glass, "Thank you, Weyrlingmaster, such a gentleman."  Her tone   is grainy with the long day, shadowy even, as she peers from the empty glass   to the bronzerider beside her.  Her attention wavers as she remembers they   have visitors.  Turning to them, she smiles brightly, "Welcome to Telgar,   care for a drink?  Something to eat?"

Resa blinks as she and Strethan becomes the center of attention again. Pink   stains her cheeks as she stumbles over her words, "Hmm.. yeah... Strethan is   wanting to speak with the dragon healer... or just one of the healers."  She   pulls Strethan up, letting him stand out front in the rider's gaze. There,   put him in the spotlight!

Trouble is rather used to being batted at. It comes with being a thief and a   rogue among firelizards. Thus the second that Toria bats at him he's already   gone, winking ::between:: a short distance away, and reappearing as he hovers   above K'sh's head, scolding the Weyrwoman with a long chatter. Still, he can   take a hint, and he begins to search for easier prey. Ah ha...what about this   man with the longish hair? With a quick orbit, he plunks onto the table once   again, now near the greenrider as he begins to scope for a possible free   meal. Or an easy hit.

Strethan is already turning, partially to hide his knowing grin at K'sh's more   than suggestive comment, especially in Resa's company. It is of course just   then that they are acknowledged, and he turns back with a warm smile. He nods   at Resa's words and steps up, calling on every bit of his upbringing to   smooth his way through things. "I'd love a drink, to tell you the truth, and   something for my dear friend Resa as well if you'd be so kind. As she said, I   was hoping to speak with one of your dragonhealers. I, ah, have aspirations   in that direction myself."

Strethan makes amiable eye-contact with each onlooker, his smile as bright and   sociable as ever while he layers on the respect and formality. Nervous? him?   Naaahhhhh...

Smiling, Toria wiggles a finger to a nearby drudge, and instructs "Please   get... " pausing to ask, "What was your names?" but continues to get the ball   rolling, "Something to drink and eat."  Before anyone has a chance to say a   word, the Weyrwoman says to the visitors, "Master Healer Fenec is most likely   in the infirmary, which is that way," her previously wiggly finger   straightening to direct.

K'ren refills the glasses and tops his own off, "You have a point there, K'sh.   Of course, they could also exacerbate it.  Why... I might end up unconcious   again and then where would the Weyr be?"  He bats a quick wink at the   greenrider and tilts a grin at the Weyrwoman, "What do you think, Weyrwoman?    Am I in any condition to lay down?"   Eyes twinkle mirthfully and then close   as he tosses his head back and drains his glass.

K'sh is going to let Toria answer _that_ one. His grin just gets a little   wider as he sets his glass against his lip, winks a tad, and takes a   good-sized sip from it to savor. Quinta has arrived. Quinta has arrived.

 Resa walks closer to the table, giving her name, "Resa.."  though smiling as   nods to the drudge, requesting  klah for herself as any good apprentice would   do!  She nods, looking in the direction that the Weyrwoman points, she   glances to Strethan, as if to ask 'Well? Go or stay?'

Strethan nods his thanks to Toria, "Strethan, Strethan of Katz Field, lately   at Crom thanks to my quest to be a Healer." His lips quirk just slightly as   he forces himself not to grin unduly at K'ren's comment, but his eyes slide   sideways towards Resa for -jussst- an instant. He looks back to Toria, "Thank   you..." The question of identity is unspoken but hangs heavy nonetheless. "I   believe I'll have a drink before we depart for the infirmary."

Marredoc glances about furtively, affirming that Triani is not, in fact,   present, and ponders drinking her wine instead of innocently dabbing it on   her arm ...

Caught off guard as she was trying to be hospitable in her well liquored   state, Toria at first blinks dumbly at K'ren, but the slippery smile soon   overtakes her slender lips, alighting her eyes with mischief of her own.    "Well I don't know... depends on the reason for laying down."  With a brief   glance to the visitors, not sure if she will wound them for life with her   words, the Weyrwoman travels on, "If you lay down with K'sh, you certainly   will never recover, but if you lay down with me, my touch will heal all."    With a scrunch of her nose and a wink to K'sh, the woman settles back to toss   down her drink.

Trouble snorts quietly to himself. Nope, no food here either. He turns and   begins to scamper across the table, starting to approach K'ren now. -He- has   to have something on him...right? It's then that he draws near the whiskey   bottle, that no one seems to be pulling from at the moment. Hello...what's   this? Tiny eyes widened in curiosity, he leans up on his hind feet, reaching   out to place a claw at the edge of the bottle and glance in.....

Strethan looks to the drudge and murmurs, "I'll have what they," nods to the   Weyrwoman and her compatriots, "...are having."

The drudge charges off to get a pair of glasses and a fresh bottle.

Faced in her rootless itinerary with the ultimately important decision between   (a) needle through the pack, (b) return from whence she came, or (c) stand   and deliver, an allergy-tormented Quinta opts for alternative (d), escorting   her on-the-verge-of-sneezing self to a vacant seat and gazing at various   faces, drudge and crafter and weyrfolk alike, with the kind of apathetic   curiosity attributed to those afflicted by seasonal misery. A mellow sip of   gossip and its ilk just about crams her corporeal palate, and is swallowed   with the proverbial sour-grape grimace. She looks as if she's seen a wraith.   Or like she's heavily allergic to something in the air. O, the Joys of Spring!

Strethan ahems softly at Toria's reply to K'ren, and the glance he   instinctively shoots Resa is heavy with intimate meaning.

Marredoc whistles cheerfully to herself, toasting Quinta in absent passing   with her klah mug.  She wraps the soaked cloth around her arm and ties it   there for good.  Good riddance to bad wine and awful ways of cleaning a cut.

K'sh looks at Toria, his eyes registering hurt at her comment. "Why, I'll have   you know that my hands are as gentle as the healers!" he says, sounding   insulted. Or trying to sound insulted, anyhow. "I've been told that they're   better, even. But then again..." He looks over at K'ren. "...I'd just have to   show you. After all, I have my honor, now."

Resa listens to the conversation, then chuckles softly at  Toria's words. The   blush becomes just a shade or two darker as she looks up in time to see   Strethan look at her.  Play innocent, yeah... that'll work!

Toria glances away from K'ren and K'sh to return the greeting.  Tonight she is   simply, "I'm Toria, a pleasure to meet you.  Healing, especially draogn   healing, is a noble sport."  Sport?   To K'sh she says, "Dear dear, and I   thought all those tales of the Wild Wonders of K'sh were true.  Guess not...   Ah well."  Shrugging, she tips the glass, trying to catch the last of the   soft amber fluid that lingers in the bottom.

Trouble continues to lean forward, now dipping his head into the bottle's neck   to that pool of liquid inside. Ahhh, what is this? Water? He -is- a mite   thirsty. Tiny tongue laps out and takes a quick swipe at the liquid's   surface, drawing it in and sliding it down his throat, before he withdraws   his head and licks his muzzle. It's then that wiskey's ever infamous delayed   reaction hits, and even with a tiny lap like the brown flit took, he suddenly   lets into a chattering creel, tossing his head back and actually laying   himself flat out on the table as he begins to push with his hind legs. Who   says you need to chew firestone to breath fire? He's almost doing it right   -now-!
K'ren chokes back a laugh and lifts his glass to Toria, "You and whiskey work   well together and make for delightful company, Weyrwoman."  A brow lifts at   K'sh and a smile curls ever so slowly, "Indeed you will.  Should I call for   volunteers?   Perhaps the Weyrwoman herself?  Afterall, I couldn't risk   myself until I was absolutely sure.  Your honor... my peace of mind."

Strethan strolls closer, thumbs hooked in his belt and an easy grin on his   face. "Sport? I'd consider the highest of arts, myself.... but that's just   me. Toria, eh? I'm sorry, I didn't recognize the rank of your knots at first,   my apologies, Weyrwoman."

 K'sh turns his head and coughs quickly into his hand. The weyrwoman? Ehum.   Well now. "Well, they're true enough as well." he says quickly to Toria, as   though to catch up on the discussion and to salve his briefly poked ego. "It   all depends on who you ask about it." Recovering, to K'ren, K'sh states,   "Really, though, I'm sure the weyrwoman wouldn't be interested in being a   volunteer for _anything_ like that." There's that halo again. And he's not   exactly _ignoring_ the firelizard's plight. He just thinks that... well...   the little nibbler deserved it. That'll teach 'im!

 Quinta has disconnected.

Strethan compresses his lips thinly over a grin, desperately fighting the   temptation to interject a sly comment or two. It's hardly his place, but...

Toria blinks at the firelizard, but K'rens words take that moment of surprise   and doubles it.  Gently elbowing K'ren, she  leans in close, "Nay, sir, I'm   not his type."  Wink wink, nudge nudge.  The compliment wasn't however   missed.  Bah, there goes that title again.  Waving Strethan off, she offers,   "I am just plain Toria tonight, really.  Call me that ... or else."  The bark   has no bite whatsoever though as she sugars it with a wink.  Her gaze strays   to the pretty Resa and she gives the girl a brief but gentle smile.

Resa starts laughing at poor Trouble, but nods, thinking the same.  It'll   teach him not to go sticking his nose into bottles he's not sure about!  She   gives the returning drudge a smile and thank you as she is handed a steaming   mug of klah.  Hmm...  warmth.  That's nice....

K'sh would probably just love if Strethan tried to interject something. The   question comes up, though: do _you_ want to be making comments around a drunk   greenrider?

Bleah, talk about a taste on your tongue that you just can't get rid of.   Sneezing mightily (or squeakily...as the case may be) the firelizard   backpedals away from that -evil- bottle, rearing up on his haunches again and   batting ineffectually at his muzzle, in an attempt to try and physically   remove the taste. Unfortunately, it isn't very accomodating in that, and he   quickly wings to the air, moving to the only -familiar- person in this room.   With a quick motion, he alights on Resa's shoulder effortlessly, before   literally starting to chatter in her ear. Like it's all the fault of everyone   else in the room.

Strethan glances back at Resa and gestures with a faint nod for her to step up   closer beside him. Looking back to Toria, he says, "Toria it is then, I   shudder to imagine otherwise. Accepting his full glass from the drudge, he   wisely remains uninvolved in the byplay here, at least considers it not yet   quite worth the risk. Yet. Raising his glass in salute to the troubled   Trouble, he murmurs, "Smooth eh, little one?"

Resa giggles, and is surprised as Trouble head her way to lite on her   shoulder.  Reaching up, she gives him a scritch,  murmuring soft words to   him.  Setting her mug down, she reaches into a pouch and withdraws a piece of   wherry, "Perhaps this will help ya, Trouble."  She offers the piece of meat   to the poor flit as he chitters and chatters loudly in her ear. If anything,   it'll quiet him!

K'ren suddenly stands; his glass clinks audibly against the bottle as he   tosses it aside, "Volunteers!   Anyone?  Our dear K'sh is seeking... well..."   Bending at the waist, he turns to the greenrider, "What is it that you're   seeking?  Someone burly?  Petite?"  Easy?

Toria sends faint a spray of spittle as she bursts with laughter.

Resa blinks, looking up at K'ren as he makes his announcement, then to the   greenrider.  Whatever did she and Strethan walk in on?!?    She tries to   continue playing innocent... really, she does!

Strethan looks at esa at this outburst, and his eyebrows climb quite high   towards his hairline. "With all due respect," he raises his glass and nods to   Toria and Resa, "This rider only has eyes for the fillies." With this, he   takes a healthy swallow from his glass.

Trouble of course has little care for drunk riders. His -tongue- hurts! And   the whole world is gonna hear abo.....oooh food! His chattering stops   immediately, followed by him snapping up the piece of meat, starting to bolt   it down right away with quick jerks of his head and neck. This is immediately   followed by a rather audible and satisfied, *BELCH*.

K'sh pauses a moment to just _glare_ at Toria. Mark my words, he _will_ get   you for that. Or at least give you a dirty look for it. Still, he turns more   dignifiedly to K'ren, stating as he smiles warmly again, "Oh, I'm sure that   I'm not going to worry too much about leaving anyone out." ReadL: easy would   be nice. To Strethan, he winks warmly, and almost bawdily as he lifts his   glass in his direction. "I wouldn't be too sure."

Resa pretends to not be listening to the conversation, though her pink cheeks   give her away.  Pulling Trouble from her shoulder, she craddles him in her   arms and feeds him a piece or two more of the wherry.  "Hmm, want some klah,   Trouble?  I promise there isn't more in it than sugar and a little milk.."

Strethan can't help chuckling, as unnerving as that comment directed towards   him may be. "As certain as the sun rises." He looks to Resa, and reaches to   take her by the shoulder and guide her closer toward his side.

Deep in the thickness of droopy flight lost riders one lone hand lifts high   and waves, followed by a alchohol thick voice, "Does he shave his legs?  I   /hate/ hairy legs."

Trouble flicks his tail once, and glances down at the offered klah   suspiciously. He's not quite so trusting of drinks at the moment, but this is   a different color. And she's drinking it so it can't be bad right? Then again   those -others- were drinking out of that -evil- bottle. Still, he leans   forward then, pressing a front foot to the edge of the mug and begins to lap   away, quickly finding that it indeed helps his burning tongue. Wiskey and   firelizards don't mix.

K'ren collapses back into his chair with a chuckle and reaches for the   whiskey, "Can't say I didn't try."  After another quick sip, he turns a smile   to the Weyrwoman, "Toria-Toria-Toria... "  He's much too relaxed right now.    "You're not finished jus' yet, are you?  Plenty left"  Again, the bottle   clinks as he taps his glass against it.

Strethan turns his head and murmurs into Resa's ear.

K'sh turns to the voice, pointing towards it with mock-indignity. "I'll have   you know I've never needed to." he states to the man, briefly shifting to   pose. "It's all-naturally that way." Winking toward the voice, he raises his   drink and takes a sip, grinning again at K'ren. "I'll have a little more as   well. This is good!" Read: it's strong and he's getting rather pleasently   drunk.

Strethan mutters "Riders are -interesting- when they are drunk..." to you.

Toria nudges her empty glass at the handsome aqua-eyed rider.  A raffia   sandle-tip pokes gently at an umber boot, urging him into action.  In a near   Southern drawl (She /was/ at Southern today afterall), she says, "Of course   not... "  Her attention is thick on the bronzerider now, the rootbeer color   of her eyes deepening with thought.

Resa blinks at Strethan, then starts to laugh as she glances back over the   slightly tipsey riders...

Strethan mutters " Could be fun in the right combination..." to you.

The distant rider seems to contemplate that for a long moment before his   girlfriend (A drudge) next to him gives him a good kick in the shine.  I   guess he'll decline.

K'sh manages to look put-out as he turns away. Not that it takes too much. He   really is a little put out. Darn it, he's not wanting to go home to an empty   weyr. However, a glance passed toward Toria and K'ren reveals that he   probably doesn't have much of a chance there. After all, goldrider is staling   his prey. Hmmph! Imagine that! "Well, looks as if you'll just have to be the   one to test such things yourself." he says with a grin toward K'ren and a   wink on top of it.

Resa gives Trouble a scritch or two as she tries to keep up with the   conversation, figuring that she's lost some of it somewhere's along the way.    A raised eyebrow is the only sign she's heard a few of the last comments.    Hmm.. dragonriders are strange folks when they get drunk.  This immediately   leads to just the other evening when she helped a certain bronzer from   falling off his lifemate.

Strethan sips his drink, having gone back to watching the well-sauced riders   to see what develops... and from the sound of it, who ends up with whom.

K'ren splashes a sloppy wave of whiskey into Toria's glass... and then K'sh,   grinning at the latter.  Hairless legs, eh.   Makes a person wonder.  Makes a   drunk person wonder way too much.  He pauses, smile tipping at an odd angle,   "I would, K'sh... but you're missing something that I'm very fond of.  And   unless you've got them hidden in your pockets..."  He chuckles at that   thought.  Detatchable?  A glance slips to Toria and her... well... glass.     Whiskey is a beautiful thing.

An elder drudge pauses on her trip to the kitchens, her narrowed eyes on the   trio of drinking riders as she grunts, "I just hate flights... more,   afterflights.  Drink, converge, drink some more, fight over the dregs, and   leave me with the pitiful mess to clean up in the mornin'."  She just snorts   and continues on.

Strethan grins into his cup and looks to Resa... deciding that folks here   about are to deep in their cups to recall much, he slides his arm around her   shoulders and draws her to his side in a rather tender manner.

Toria, well on her way to being drunk, wonders, "What is he missing?  I   thought he had /too/ /much/."  Confused, she sips and waits for the answer,   her glance flickering from K'sh to K'ren, then to K'sh again... Well, then   back to K'ren, cause well, he's cute, and /tall/.

K'sh opens a pocket to glance in for a moment. "I seem to have left them at   home." he says, in almost a serious voice. That being done, his face splits   into a wide grin again as he surveys the folk in the cavern for a moment,   then looks back to K'ren with a shrug. "Maybe you should experiment. You   never know what else you might find interesting, after all." He spares the   particularly lewd comments for the moment, with youngsters present. Well,   non-rider-sters, more like it. Hey! K'sh is cute! K'sh is tall!

Trouble rolls over on Resa's shoulder just a bit, before deciding he wants to   be somewhere -else-. Without any warning, he then hops up to land on the top   of her head, clinging there and deciding he likes this for the moment. He   tilts forward, and brings his gaze to upside-down as he peers back at the   harper girl.

Strethan just takes it all in with knowing amusement. Young he may be, but   innocent he is not.

Resa eeps?!?  and finds herself looking at an upside down flit muzzle.    "Trouble? Whatever are you doing?!?  "

Strethan quips aside, "Making trouble?"

Trouble squeaks once, before straightening up and deciding to leap over to   Strethan's head this time. He may not know him but....he seems to know the   yellow haired girl, so it's fine by him. Besides, he may have something that   the little brown can stea....er...borrow.

Resa sighs, eyes blinking a few times as she tries desperately /not/ to cross   her eyes to look at the flit.  A long sigh of relief is given as the heavy   brown jumps from her head to Strethan's.  Resa turns, then starts laughing at   the sight.

Strethan ducks his head slightly, wincing at sharp little claws looking for   purchase. "Whoah, hey, whoah there little fella...!" He bats ineffectually at   the flit, hair dragged half out of its restraining band before Strethan gives   up and just holds his head very still.

Trouble has of course no compunctions about messing up the hair of young men,   and that's just what he's doing as he rakes his paws along Strethan's scalp,   as if digging. Just be thankful he's being -gentle- with those sharp little   talons of course. Finally, he seems to have carved out enough of a nest to be   satisfied, and he proceeds to plunk his rump right onto the top of his head,   curling his tail down the back and looking -very- satisfied right now.

K'ren merely stares at Toria a long moment and then glances around the cavern.   Class?  Who would like to answer this question?  His gaze wanders back and to   her glass.  Maybe she's had too much.  It's slightly troubling when the   Weyrwoman can't tell the difference between herself and a man.  "Uh... "  he   blinks, "What was I saying?"  To K'sh, he grins, "Maybe I should.  However,   in my present state, it might not be so good." K'sh voices it as well as he can by cupping his hands and holding them in   against his chest in a moast 'suggestive' manner. Grinning, wordlesslyat Toria, he   says to K'ren, "Sometimes that's the best time. I promise I won't tell you   anything tomorrow if you forget." Teasingly, he winks again.

Feeling that she is losing him, Toria gets up, takes the step or two it takes   to plunk herself down in K'ren's lap.  Glass till in hand, she empties it,   then sets it aside -- Definately at her limit.  This is when she catches   K'sh's movement and "Ohs!" out loud.  She was thinking much much lower.    Glancing down at her own chest, the woman eyes what she has thoughtfully ...   not much, but hey, more then K'sh!

Resa chuckles and giggles at Strethan for a few moments before holding out   another piece of wherry to Trouble.  "Well, if you want this Trouble, ya got   to come and get it!"  She lays the meat on the table and waits to see what   happens.

Strethan murmurs into another sip from his glass, "Don't ask, don't tell." He   looks aside to Resa from underneath his new brown hat and grins lopsidedly.   "What if I want that trouble, do I have to come get it?"

 Strethan 's cheeks are just faintly flushes, and his eyes glitter with   something mischievous.

Resa gives Strethan a funny little look for a moment, "This is for Trouble...   unless you really want uncooked wherry..." Words drift off as she suddenly   gets what the holder's son is talking about. "Hmmmm... uh...."  Wordless she   just stands there, blinking.

Trouble peers down at the piece of meat that's laid out, tilting his head to   the side. To snatch or not to snatch? That is the question. It would involve   him having to -move- of course......and he likes his new perch. He rubs   himself in just a bit more, as if pondering, before finally leaping off with   a tiny squeal and pouncing on the piece of meat again. Gotcha!

Strethan holds her gaze, his grin a bit wicked and his eyes agleam at her   'This is for trouble' comment. "Yes, it is..."

K'sh was thinking a lot lower as well, Toria. Unfortunately, K'ren wasn't.   That's the problem. As she ends up in the rider's lap, K'sh looks _most_   put-out at the new happenings. Hey! How's he supposed to top that? Blinking   owlishly at Toria and K'ren, he frowns as he scans the room for just a   moment. Looks as if he's going to need to give _this_ one up. Hmmm. How about   that one... or maybe that one... how about that one? Hmm.... or maybe he's   drunk and should consider going back to his weyr?

 K'ren oofs as he suddenly finds himself with a lapful of Weyrwoman.  K'sh is   peered at from behind Toria's arm, "That's tempting.  Not quite as tempting   as having a woman draped across your lap... but close. "   He smiles boyishly   up at Toria, "I think that means you win."  Unless anyone wants to wrestle?

"Hmm... uh...  EEK!"  Fingers are snatched from the meat as Trouble pounces.    Holding them up, Resa starts to suck on a finger, then looks at it, Eww..   wherry juice.  Looking around, she spots a damp towel forgotten by a drudge   on a nearby table and uses it to clean her fingers.  Perhaps if she ignores   the suggestive comment it'll go away.. yeah.. right.

Wrestling is good. Wrestling is fun. Of course, K'sh isn't much of a wrestler   when women are involved. Ewww, breasteses! For a moment, he eyes Strethen,   then seems to change his mind. Shaking his head and grinning at himself,   greenrider starts toward the door. "I know when I'm beat." he says, sounding   miserable. Hear those violins. "I'll just... go back to my lonely weyr. With   no one to work my magic on." Oh, the angst!

Trouble snatches up his prize, and flashes a quick glance in Resa's direction,   his eyes whirling as he holds his latest prize. Now this has been one   -profitable- day for him. With that done, he takes to the air again, circling   around Resa's head, then Strethan's, and finally disappearing ::between:: and   out of sight, to eat his prize in peace.

Toria does, but not with K'sh.  Wink wink.  Pleased with her Weyrlingmaster   prize, and drunk as an owl on a tablespoon full of wine, she leans close,   arms draped lazily across his back and chest, and whispers, "Would ... ... to   ... someplace ... ... ... private?"  Her warm whiskey breath on his cheek, so   close to his ear, she bites a small mouthful of cheek and tugs.

K'sh walks toward Northern Curve of the Bowl.

K'ren abruptly staggers to his feet.  You don't have to ask him twice!   A   lapful of Weyrwoman quickly turns into an armful as he hauls her up and aims   for the door.  A smile is flashed as he reclaims his cheek, "Certainly took   your time, my dear."  To the rest of the room, he grins and jostles her legs   in a wave.

Resa gives the rider and weyrwoman a wave as they make their way out of the   cavern.."Good night.. sleep well!"  She blushes as she hears the words leave   her mouth...

Strethan grins widely and lifts his glass in a most hearty salute. "Good   riding to you, Weyrlingmaster!"

Toria chuckles and waves over K'ren's shoulder, calling, "Make yourself at   home!"  Arms once again curled around the bronzerider's neck, she asks,   "Whose weyr, yours or mine?  Mine has a little boy and a big gold thing, so   how about yours?"  Then they are gone.

Strethan glances around slyly, then gives Resa a meaningful look. "Perhaps we   should continue our tour...?"

Resa hmms, nodding, "S..Sure.  I think she pointed that way?"

K'ren pauses mid-stride to consider that, "There's Pyranth... but he can be   bribed.  Mine it is, then!"   As he heads out into the bowl, his words trail   behind him, "I hope you don't mind laundry... "

K'ren saunters toward Northern Curve of the Bowl.

Toria walks toward Northern Curve of the Bowl.

Marredoc flops back into her chair and nearly tips it over.  "Good grief this   place is madness."

 Strethan finishes his glass savoringly, "Indeed it is." He nods to Resa, "That   way."

Strethan heads in the indicated direction, leaving his glass for the drudges.

Strethan walks toward Infirmary. infirmary

Resa follows Strethan, looking around as she goes for this is unexplored   sections as far as she has gone.
 

Strethan steps in from the direction of the main cavern, he and Resa having   been pointed in this direction by an extremely well-marinated Toria before   she vanished in K'ren's arms.He stands quietly for a moment at the entrance,   eyes scanning over the infirmary cavern as he takes in what a weyr healing   center looks like. It looks... like a healing center. The familiarity boosts   his confidence a bit.

Fenec makes sure to keep his center looking clean. After all, if the area   isn't clean, then what would the people think? There's enough folks who are   scared spitless of Healers, after all. A container of herbs is picked up,   given a brief sniff... then another. Inspecting it at length, Fenec turns and   reaches to one of the shelves, picking up another packet, checking it, then   adding a couple pinches of some sort of dried leaf to the mixture. Another   quick sniff to the first pot and Fenec nods appreciatively, putting it to the   side, apparently waiting for someone.

Resa walks in behind Strethan, still giggling about something Toria said.  She   give her head a shake, blond hair sliding over her shoulder. "Well.. that was   interesting!"  She glances around too, having not explored this part of   theWeyr yet.

Strethan watches Fenec going about his business for a long moment, then   decides to get his attention. "Excuse me... could you tell me where to find   Master Healer Fenec?

Fenec blinks, almost a little startled that someone had managed to sneak in   outside his 'alert' (yeah right) field of view. Turning away from his brief   distraction, the little man smiles up at Strethan, nodding to him. "You're   talkin' t'him." he says, warmly. "How c'n I help you?" His voice is heavily   accented, though he deliberately slows the words to make sure they're   understood.

Resa smiles, deciding to keep quiet and letting Strethan ask the questions   since he is the one wanting ot know the answers.  She glances around some   more, her gaze quickly returns to Fenec.  Another smile graces her face as   she listens to the herler's voice.. interesting accent....

Strethan smiles in a friendly manner and steps forward, nodding his head   respectfully. "Master Fenec, a pleasure to meet you. My name is Strethan, of   Katz Field Hold, and I have a very keen interest in the healercraft.   Especially..." He glances at Resa, pausing as if to garner courage to go on,   then looks back to Fenec and goes on, "Especially to the healing of dragons."

Strethan says, "Perhaps you've heard of my Hold, and my father's famous   runnerbeasts. I have quite a bit of experience helping our Master Beasthealer   Ardenal care for them, but I wish to apply my talent to more than just   beasts.""

Resa gives Strethan an encouraging smile and nod when he looks to her.  She   steps close enough that she can place her hand on his back, though out of   site of Master Fenec, offering Strethan strength...

Fenec 's smile vanishes slightly. Apparently, he's heard that a few times. He   brings his hand up to his mouth, clearing his throat briefly as he considers   his next words without sounding either discouraging, or without sounding   preachy. "Well, it's a pleasure t'have someone interested in th'craft." he   says. "Particularly from somewhere 's well-known 's Katz Field. However..."   His expression gets carefully measured. "T'be a full Dragonhealer, m'afraid   that y'need t'have a dragon. They work t'gether, y'see. Th' rider an' th'   dragons."

Strethan speaks articulately, but with an unmistakable far southern accent.

Resa nods silently as she listens to Fenec speak, though she is slightly   surprised to here you have to have a dragon.... hmm... intersting.

Strethan hmmms, his expression falling just a notch but he gamely rallies to   maintain his smile. "No doubt, no doubt, I suspected as much. Our friend   F'dall, rider of bronze Gaderith, has been encouragign me to seek someone out   and pursue this ideal of mine, he has had every confidence in my ability. I,   uh, suppose if not a full dragonhealer then, perhaps... well, I'm set on   joining the Healercraft for sure, I know where my talents lie. I suppose one   can always talk shop with the dragonhealers..."

Fenec nods, wagging a finger to and fro with that. "Of course!" he says, in an   enthusiastic manner. "You c'n always talk t'T'lor or J'avia about't. They've   taken Dragon-nursemaids on before. Y'might be able t'get some lessons   under'm, and get t'help out with th' dragons. M'sure with th'Threadfall that   they c'n always use th'help."

Resa finds herself listening more and more to the conversation, though wether   the topic or the Master's accent holds it more is hard to tell.

Strethan nods, renewed hope dawning in his eyes. nursemaiding a dragon, well,   that's close enough to what he'd like that the difference is negligible. "You   know, Master, that sounds like a plan. I believe I'll do just that, speak   with them and see what they have to say about it. As for the Healercraft...   well, what would you suggest?"

Fenec taps his chin with a finger. "Y'seem t'have a background in the   Beasthealing." he says, thoughtfully. "If'n you're interested in joining   th'Craft, m'sure we c'n use your expertise in that area." Maybe 'expertise'   isn't the exact word he's looking for, but it certainly is nice to see   someone with a good background in such things. "And we c'n always use   th'general practicioners." he adds with an amused twinkle in his eye.

Strethan smiles, "Oh, no doubt, no doubt. I just know I like to help, and I've   been told time and again that it's something I'm good at. If you think   there's a place for me in the Craft, I'm at your disposal."

Strethan turns his head, flashing Resa a pleased smile at the way things are   turning out so far. Despite the dragon requirement, it's turning out better   than he had feared.

Fenec gives another nod. "Always room." he says again, smiling warmly. "M'glad   t'be taking in another apprentice, s'long as you're interested'n joining   th'Craft." A hand is stuck out in a cheery way toward the young man. "

Resa smiles, giving Strethan a pat on the back.  Her eyes dart around,   different items in the room catching her attention as she wanders what's in   that or what does this do? Curiousity abounds...

Stormer watches as well, peering at the two folks from his perch as he paces a   little bit. Creeling after a moment, he finally hops from his place to swoop   across the room, hovering to where he can peer suspiciously at the newcomers.

Resa spots the flit, a smile spreading as she watches the blue.  Of course,   she's got a weakness for blues, having one herself.  She offers him a little   wave and smile.

The smile spreads across Strethan's face to become his patented unabashed   grin, a hand reaching readily to grip and pump the Master healer's offered   hand. "My pleasure, Master, no doubt about it. Just tell me what I must do,   and it's done."

Fenec shakes Strethan's hand enthusiastically, even as he's pointing towards   the library with his other hand. "Y'do know how to read, yes?" It's not meant   to be an insult, and his wide smile hopefully says as much.

Strethan slides his gaze sideways to watch the little blue flit hover in to   eye both him and Resa warily. He likewise has a weakness for blues, large or   small, and as he lifts his free hand in a placating 'come here' gesture to   Stormer, he says to Fenec, "Guess this must be your guard eh?" At Fenec's   question he laughs easily and nods, "Oh yes, my father wouldn't have it any   other way. Far be it for a Lord Holder's son to be illiterate, that just   wouldn't do."

Stormer gives his opinion on the new folks by hissing at them quite pointedly,   though he does flutter his way over to inspect that proffered hand. Maybe   it's something passingly interested. Apologetically, Fenec says about the   blue, "He's not th'friendliest. He's one've th'Vampire crew." Whether that   answers everything or not, it seems to to Fenec. Nodding at Strethan's   comments, he smiles in relief. "Oh good. Y'r ahead've some of th'Holder   apprentices, then." Again, he indicates the library area. "Th'scrolls are all   in there. S'long as y'put things back, you c'n look through them."

Resa laughs, the blue's antics reminding her of her cold little flit.  He's   also not the friendliest..

Strethan just smirks faintly at Stormer's less-than-accepting attitude and   holds his hand out as it is inspected... he's been nipped by larger teeth   before. Glancing towards the library, he nods, "I'll treat them with the   greatest care, you can rest assured."

Fenec nods. "Good." he says with a trace of relief. "Everything you should   know that y'can't find out fr'm th'other apprentices'll be right in there."   He looks at Stormer warningly, but the blue doesn't heed him, of course. He   simply flies down to inspect Strethan's hand at length, 'HMMPH'ing at it   audibly. He doesn't bite, though. "You c'n get a uniform at the Weavers. Jes'   tell'm that Master Fenec sent you."

Strethan has to laugh softly at Stormer's spurning of his hand, and lowers it   to his side. "Pleased to meet you too, l'il blue." He nods to Fenec, "I think   I'll browse over the scrolls, get a feel for what information is available...   although noghting can beat hands-on experience. And I'll pick up my uniform   as you said." Relief and excitement fill his voice as he says, "Thank you,   very much..."

Resa grins, excitement showing in her eyes as Strethan finds what he's been   looking for.  She's excited for him, knowing he'll be a great asset to the   Healer's.  "Congrats Strethan!"

Strethan feels like he's grown a good foot in height, like he's on top of the   world. He turns to Resa and favors her with a beaming smile, "I couldn't have   done it without you and F'dall, thanks for spilling the big secret... I guess   there's nothing left to do but get myself settled in and start learning!"

Strethan rubs his hands together. "Well, now, that's just fantastic... I   almost don't know where to turn first. Library, Weavers... then report to the   Healer Hall at Crom to do this apprentice thing... looks like I get to   experience the kinds of things you've told me about, Resa." He chuckles and   winks at the Senior Apprentice Harper.

Fenec laughs again, warmly, at the reactions. "So long's you get everything   done." he says. "Make sure you've got y'r uniform set up, an' th'scrolls c'n   wait for a while, m'sure. So long's you know what you need t'know."

Strethan ahems and squares his shoulders, calming his ebullience and nodding   to the Master, "Yes, sir, that's the most important part. I'll go see about   that uniform right now.

Resa giggles softly as she watches Strethan begin to run around without his   head..  :>

Strethan looks to Resa, and offers his hand. "Well, Senior Apprentice, care to   help me get settled in? You've been such a great help so far."

Resa laughs, nodding her head, "Aye... don't think I'll mind at all!"  She   turns, giving the Master a happy nod, "Thank you agian Master Fenec... I know   he's been wanting to speak to the healer's for awhile.. just needed a little   push. "

Fenec nods in agreement. "I remember _that_." he admits, winking at the young   man. "Always th'hardest part, isn't it?"

Strethan nods with a grin, "Yes sir, without a doubt. By your leave, I'll go   do everything that needs doing."