All references to worlds and characters based on Anne McCaffrey's fiction are copyright © Anne McCaffrey 1967,2000, all rights reserved, and used by permission of the author. The Dragonriders of Pern(r) is registered U.S. Patent and Trademark Office, by Anne McCaffrey, used here with permission. Use or reproduction without a license is strictly prohibited. For more information, visit the Worlds of Anne McCaffrey.

14-08-01: Weyr
Hanneke, with legs swinging over the edge of the ledge, is peering out into the pre-dawn air--no, she's not thoughtful,...

Hanneke, with legs swinging over the edge of the ledge, is peering out into the pre-dawn air--no, she's not thoughtful, nor contemplative. That'd be too much to ask, right?

Saironth backwings in for a landing next to the green, just in time for his lifemate to wave at the other pair, "Hey! There you are! I've been looking all over the weyr for you." And he has too. You have no idea how hard it is to find a certain green dragon in all the green dragons att his weyr..

Caeruleth rumbles darkly, shifting her minature -- for a dragon, that is -- form over slightly, as Hanneke glances up. "Huh?" states she, ever so eloquent. "Why?"

From Saironth's neck, Kr'lin waves the weyrling up onto her dragon, "Enough talk! It's time for you to follow!" She said two words, he says enough talk.. Ouch, hate to see his reaction if she had said three words. The pair wait for weyrling to mount dragon and strap in before taking off.

Hanneke blinks visibly, but rises, scrambling along the precipice back towards her lifemate--"Fine, fine! No need to get all huffy!" Regardless of whether he did or not. "Where're we going?"

Caeruleth's cool, dark touch echoes forest greens through your mind, a hint of narcissus wafting dynamically through your mind, as you climb up her forelimb, using straps to get yourself safely between her neckridges.

Saironth glides up from the Star Stones, his wings stretched wide.

You glide up from the Star Stones, your wings stretched wide.

Saironth leaves for the Ista Forest.

Daemith swerves west, out towards the sea.

From Saironth's neck, Kr'lin points at a nearby ledge, "We are going there!" is shouted across the gap to the green dragon and her lifemate. "Front door service and everything!"

Saironth leaves for the Hanneke/Caeruleth.

Hanneke blinks, visibly, "Oh!" She straightens, peering towards the ledge. Well, why would they be going there? (Yes, she is a little stupid, even yet). But they, green and weyrling, follow nonetheless.

Caeruleth's Ledge

High on the outer side of the weyr, this ledge juts out of the clifside in a half-circle, giving plenty of room for a dragon. Trees shade the area somewhat, keeping the ledge cool. The surface of the ledge is scarred from generations of dragons and their riders. A spectacular view over the forests, the oceans, and the lands offers the illusion of isolation.

Kr'lin lowers ourselves to the ground, no fancy pantsy dismounts for us, much to the chagrin of Saironth.

Caeruleth sends dark ripples of forest green through your mind, releasing you as you tumble, somewhat precipitaciously, down from her neckridges, eventually reaching the ground in an acervated heap.

Hanneke straightens herself, peering around the ledge. "Um--so, why are we here?"

Kr'lin is liking the looks of this ledge already. Much better than the one he showed earlier, "Well, this would be your ledge." And a point towards the exit into the Weyr wall, "And that would be your weyr." He waves the girl on, "You first, you first."

"Oh!" Yes, that brings the girl into a skip, and, in such a manner, she makes her way into the weyr--"This is ours, Caeruleth! Ours, all ours!" Oh, calloo callay!

Caeruleth's Weyr

Empty, this deserted weyr has a high, arching ceiling, creating a cooling effect within the weyr. Rugged, there is an area for a dragonic couch, the stone worn down from its past occupants. Part of the weyr is actually a smaller cave, creating a dropped ceiling over the area that riders have traditionally placed their bed. Dust has settled around, and a few webs indicate that insects have taken up residence here.

Kr'lin walks in with his eyes closed. His body in full fledged fight or flight mode, mostly flight. A crack of the eyelids and he lets out a heavy sigh, "Thank you!" He's shouting at the Weyr walls mind you, "It's not pink!" Then, he turns his attention to Hanneke, "So, what do you think?"

"Not pink?" queries Hanneke, frowning. Pink *would* be nice. Or maybe purple--creamy edgings, too. "It's *perfect*!" She bounces about, peering through, although she adds, "It's dirty."

Kr'lin nodnods his head multiple times, "Yes. It's not pink. If Klari ever asks if you want to see her weyr.. Say no and run away.. Quickly.. Very, very quickly." Granted, Hanneke might not share his feelings about the color pink, but still, "Yes, it's very dirty. We don't clean these things for you. Also, gives you plenty of room to decorate."

Hanneke pauses. For a very long time. "Oh." Note to self: visit Klari. "I suppose you don't," she agrees, "Because you'd never do anything that you didn't have to. So it's mine?" she adds, glancing around, "All mine? Forever and ever?"

Kr'lin splays his hands in hurt retrospection, "How could you say such a thing? After all the pain I put myself through to make sure you and your lifemate developed properly?" The pain quickly vanishes, after all, it was just a facade, "It's yours for as long as you want it."

Hanneke, for the briefest of moments, is properly apologetic, but that, too fades. Rather overly quickly. "Oh, goodie!"

Kr'lin waves his hand around, using it to get his point across, that failing, he adds a few words to, "Well.. You have fun with it. Empty out your couch and move it all up here." A few sneezes are extruded from his body, "I'm getting out of here.. All this dust is getting to me."

"I will!" Although her idea of 'fun' could be rather different from his--or anyone elses, for that matter. "Oh..okay! Bye!" She does a further bounce about, or more. Oh rapture.