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.

26-08-01: Seat
You go into the Living Caverns. Kr'lin dashes into the living cavern and quickly claims a seat. Woohoo. Beat Hanneke...

You go into the Living Caverns.

Kr'lin dashes into the living cavern and quickly claims a seat. Woohoo. Beat Hanneke into The Seat. Not sure if that was what she was going for, but he's going to make sure she wasn't by being the first butt in it.

Hanneke merely peers at Kr'lin--but she's not surprised. He's always been a little bit peculiar. Pouring herself juice with a liberal hand, and more than a little bit of spillage, she turns back towards the caverns, hesitating. Where to sit?

Kr'lin heys and notes that he is thirsty, but since he doesn't want ot give up The Seat, he must find some way to get a drink to him.. "Hey, Hanneke. Since you are up and all. about getting me something to drink as well." And to give her some incentive, "I won't assign you dawn sweeps tomorrow if you do." See, he's good.

That's bribery, and corruption. That's also a very good way to get Hanneke on your side--Pause. "Oh. Okay!" Obliging, for a change, the greenrider pours another tumbler of juice, spilling just as much as ever, and leaving stick stains down the sides of the glass. Now she has a place to sit, too.

Kr'lin awaits the delivery of his drink with eager expectation. Even rubbing his hands together and everything, "Hey, you're the best." He's easy to please, you see. Especially when it involves him getting a drink and not even having to leave The Seat to get it. "Having fun doing sweeps and all that?"

"Fun?" echoes Hanneke, more than a little surprised--are they supposed to be fun? She sets down the drink, then her own, and takes a seat. She knows she's the best; "I *was* the best weyrling," she reminds.

Chandelle walks into the room from the bowl (whic is the way I should have cam in) and takes the hood off her head letting her golden locks fall. Looking aroudn the room she smiles and says "Hello" to all.

Kr'lin is quite pleased that he hadn't taken a drink after Hanneke's last comment, because if he had, Hanneke would be covered in juice spray. Since he hadn't, he just laughs, "Oh.. Hanneke.. That's good... I didn't know you were such a comedian." Now he takes a drink, a quick one, just in case another laugh kicks out, "You were absolutely horrid." See, he doesn't have to pull punches anymore. He can just come right out mock. A hello from the direction of the bowl entrance gets a wave. It's habit, you see.

Hanneke's offended, now; "That's not true!" she insists, not quite stamping her foot, but it's a close call. "You said I could be, and I was. I was!" Who else? "I could be anything, you said that, too. Even Weyrsecond." Instead, lowly greenrider is she--or something. She almost misses Chandelle, but manages a politesse-induced nod eventually.

Kr'lin goes into another round of laughs, just these ones aren't quite, laughs, more chuckles, possibly even snickers. "I do believe could is the operative term there, Hanneke. You could have been anything if you had applied yourself." Another pull of the delivered juice is partaken. "but instead, you let yourself get bogged down in in fighting with Zureile and never really learned how to control your dragon. Shameful, really.." He even lets out a sorrow filled sigh.

Chandelle makes her way over to the food and makes herself a small sandwitch "Whats going on?" she asks after pouring herself a glass of watter.

Hanneke forgets her juice -- and it's nice juice, too -- to put her hands on her hips and stare at Kr'lin. "That's not true!" She can control Caeruleth, it's just that she lets Caeruleth control her. "He's being *mean*," she whines, towards Chandelle.

Chandelle looks at Kr'lin "is that true Kr'lin?" she asks

Kr'lin lifts a finger, one of the fingers not holding his juice, "That is where you are wrong, Hanneke. I'm not being mean. I'm just not sugar coating things for you. I can't help it if you spent more time being punished than you spent actually learning." And he should know, he was the one doing the punishing. Chandelle gets a grin, "I can't help it if Hanneke likes to be coddled. I just don't have to coddle her anymore."

Hanneke scowls; "I always knew you were nasty, and that you lied." Poor Kr'lin. Poor Hanneke. "He is, too being mean! He never coddled me, anyway. All those push-thingies."

Chandelle nods "If you did do something wrong Hanneke you shoud listen to your felow riders.They know what they are doing." she says takeing a sip of her water.

Kr'lin clutches his chest and looks shocked, "Hanneke, I'm hurt. You called me a liar. How am I a liar? Hmm?" Because he can, he does note one minor detail, "Well, Hanneke... Just imagine how bad it would have been if I hadn't coddled you.. I mean, just think how bad the pushups were.. And that was just with me being nice." Chandelle definitely has a good point there. Hanneke should listen to her fellow riders. Especially when the fellow rider is her wingleader.

"And I don't?" counters Hanneke towards Chandelle, scowling. Didn't she come down here for juice, not accusations? "You told me things. You lied!" With a definitive grasp upon reality, she adds, "You weren't being nice."

Chandelle smiles at Hanneke "It's ok just learn to listen with bouth your heart ans your mind to your felow riders and you will do a lot better." she says findign a seat and sitting down.

Kr'lin nods his head several times, "Oh, she's most definitely correct, Hanneke. You don't." Not to let her slip away without answering his question, "How am I a liar, Hanneke? What have I told you that was a lie?" He'd like to know, darn it. He always likes to know when he's been caught lying. That way he can avoid it in the future. "And I was being nice. I could have been much meaner. I could have given you pushups /and/ pullups." Oh, yeah. Juice, he has'nt had a sip of that in a bit. So he will. He takes two of them actually. Making up for lost time.

Hanneke raises an eyebrow towards Chandelle, countering, "And what would you know?" Riderhood, alas, does not suit Hanneke so very well, it might appear. "Pullups?" she queries, belatedly realising her folly.

Chandelle looks up from her sandwitch 'I know more than you think from liveing hear , Haveing friends who are riders and being in love with a rider." she says politly

Kr'lin sits back in The Seat and nods, multiple times, "You should listen to her, Hanneke. She sounds like she knows what she's talking about." Granted, if she wasn't agreeing with him, he might not be in such an agreeable mood. "And yes, pullups. It just you and a bar that's several feet above your head. THe point of the exercise is to pull yourself up until your chin is above the bar."

Hanneke's lower lip trembles slightly, but she sticks her nose into the air, crossing her arms, saying nothing. Well, almost nothing. "You're neither being very nice."

Kr'lin points out, for the record, "Well, I will note that you are the one that brought up that you were the 'best' weyrling. I merely corrected you." See, he's really a nice guy. It's Hanneke that is mean. "And you still haven't answered my question. When have I lied to you? Hmmm?" He wants an answer darn it!

Chandelle looks at Hanneke "He was only telling the truth if you choose not to listen it is not his fault." she says

Hanneke snorts, scowling. "You always lie. It's normal." Inbred? "That's nasty, too," she adds, towards Chandelle, imperiously.

Kr'lin hmms and is now being accused of never telling the truth, "So, then, I lied about you being in my wing?" A final drink of juice and hte empty glass is placed on the table in front of him, "we can always send you back to the Weyrling wing." Now she's attacking poor Chandelle, she's evil! "Hanneke, really. Aren't we being a bit paranoid. Chandelle could be trying to help you."

Chandelle shack her head "What ever you think Hanneke" she says and takes a drink of her watter.

Hanneke's a greenrider, isn't evilness inbred? "You didn't lie about that," she admits, unhappily. "But you lied about me being able to be the best weyrling--because I tried, and tried, and you still said I wasn't!" Another scowl towards Chandelle, as she sips huffily at her juice.

Kr'lin tsktsktsks, "Hanneke, you might have tried, but you did things outside of class that kept you down. Just because you got better at paying attention during classes, does not mean you could be disobedient outside of class." Ahh, yes. He remembers all the times where Hanneke would keep back talking, even after he had given her pushups.

"There weren't any rules saying I couldn't fight with Zureile, so how does that make me disobedient?" queries Hanneke sulkily, resting her arms down by her sides. She's got a complex--poor dear.

Kr'lin guffaws at that comment, "What do you mean there weren't any rules saying that you couldn't fight with Zureile? That's a Weyr rule, not just a Weyrling rule." No fighting among riders, you see, "You and Zureile were completely out of line with your actions. We don't mind you two not getting along, but you practically came to fist-a-cuffs. In the living caverns, even."

"She started it," mutters Hanneke, "And no one says nasty things about her being a bad weyrling."

Kr'lin just peers at her, because he can. "What do you mean no one says that Zureile was a bad weyrling? She was. Absolutely horrid. Almost as bad as you, really." Always having to be punished, she was.

Hanneke rolls her eyes, pushing her glass away in disgust. "But no one complains about her now. Her wingleader doesn't try and make her look hopeless."

Kr'lin waves a dismissive hand, "I can't help it if Katarra is a pushover. She's so excited to actually have a new person in her wing, that she's willin got let things slide." Kr'lin on the other hand, has a wing full of people and is always getting new people in his wing. He doesn't have to worry about such things.

Hanneke turns her gaze away from Kr'lin to focus on the door, wrinkling her nose. "Then it's not fair!" Pouting, the greenrider notes, "I bet I'm just as good as anyone else in Phoenix, but you're never going to believe that."

Kr'lin is taken aback again, practically horrified at the accusations flying his direction, "Who said you were any worse than anyone else in the wing? They are all a bunch of lazy oafs who wouldn't know a wing formation if it bit them on the ass and then did a two step on their head."

Hanneke, the storyteller, raises her eyes, turning her gaze back to Kr'lin. "Then why do you pick on *me*?" She's not that bad, really.

Kr'lin waves his hand around, showing Hanneke the living cavern, "Do you see anyone else from our wing in here? I have to pick on someone and you came in, threatening to take The Seat."

"The Seat?" queries the greenrider, leaning forward, attempting to peer at Kr'lin's seat. "What's special about it? I didn't want it. And you don't need to pick on anyone. It isn't *nice*."

Kr'lin stands up and shows Hanneke The Seat, "What do you mean 'What's special about it?' Can't you see? It's the perfect seat! It's got the perfect shape, slightly cupped, but not so cupped that you feel like you are falling into it. It's got a location that is to die for!" He needs a soap box from which to yell the virtues of The Seat, "It's far enough away from the entrance that you aren't caught in the middle of traffic, yet it isn't too far that you can't escape the living cavern. It's the perfect distance from the food table. Yet again, far enough away that you aren't getting mobbed by hungry residents, yet close enough that you can be at the food table in a moments notice."

Pause. Stare. Maybe Hanneke isn't the strange one, afterall. "Oh." Nod and smile, nod and smile.

Kr'lin sputters in shock, unbelieving that Hanneke doesn't see the virtues of The Seat, "You mean, you don't see it?" He moves around the table and puts his hands on Hanneke's shoulders, planning on guiding her to The Seat, so she can experience it.

Hanneke jumps slightly at the touch of Kr'lin's hands upon her shoulders, but allows herself to be guided into The Seat: the perfect hijacking if ever there was one. "I don't," she admits, not yet within the seat.

Kr'lin pushes her back into The Seat, "See? Look!" Granted, it's hard when one is sitting on the object of the 'Look!', "Admit it, it's the perfect seat! I dare you to find a better seat in the entire living cavern!"

Hanneke wiggles her bottom backwards within the seat, testing it out. "Oh. Oh!" A new devotee? "Oh, that isn't bad," she agrees, delighted.

L'lia wanders into the living caverns from the bowl, brushing her hands over her pants. SHe nods to the others as she enters, and heads, predictably, for the beverage table. Pouring herself a cool glass of juice, she glances around, as if to really take note of who is in here.

Kr'lin has converted another believer! "Okay. I'm glad you agree." He then realizes that The Seat is now occupied with someone else. Someone that isn't him. Maybe he should have thought of that. Oh well, he'll play it cool. Maybe she'll get out if he nonchalantly says, "Now, you can get up and give me back my seat."

Hanneke raises her head, innocent eyes blinking up at Kr'lin. "Oh, no, I think I'll stay here, now." She beams brilliantly towards L'lia, as she reaches to tug her juice along the table, towards her new seat. "It's much more comfortable."

L'lia sips her juice, watching the pair. She offers belatedly, a salute to her wingleader, and murmurs with a nod, "Wingleader.." She lifts her glass slightly, and then leans against the table.

Kr'lin looks horrified for a moment, but only for an instant, he must recover The Seat! "But it's my seat. I only let you sit in it so you could see how perfect it is. I didn't want you to keep it." This is definitely not a good thing. He notes L'lia and nods. It's a quick thing, he's busy trying to get Hanneke outo f his seat without grabbing her under the arms and lifting her out of the seat.

Hanneke clings with all her might, stringing legs around the bottom edge of the seat. "Hey! Don't manhandle me like that. I don't belong to you!" Pause, then, "Finder's keepers!"

L'lia drawls, with only the barest hint of sarcasm, "Actually.. you do.. in effect. You're in his wing." She winks at Hanneke. "Although I don't think that means he gets to manhandle you... technically."

Kr'lin ahas and points at L'lia, "See. One of the perks of being a wingleader. So up, up!" He even does the up up hand motion, "Besides, I could always do something.. Shall we say.. Undesirable to you." He has the power to do it. Muwahahahaha!

Hanneke snorts, linking herself further into the chair, and taking a long sip of her juice--then, rapidly, grabbing onto the chair with her hands. She's not moving. "No." Pause. "Like what?"

"Of course.." L'lia adds adroitly, with only the slightest hint of malice, "A good wingleader would never abuse the authority that the weyrleader had invested in him." She tilts her head, slightly, and looks at Kr'lin for only a second before adding, "So, Hanneke, I'm sure Kr'lin wouldn't /actually/ do anything undesirable to you just because you were sitting in a chair."

Kr'lin pshaws and waves a hand in L'lia's direction. "Whoever said I was a good wingleader?" To Hanneke, he just looks down his nose at her and hmphs, "I could give you dawn sweeps for the rest of your life."

Hanneke holds fast, commenting, "You wouldn't, though. Someone else would bug you too much." L'lia's comments are met with a brilliant smile: perhaps she's too stupid to know what the brownrider is doing, but if it looks like support, she'll smile nonetheless.

L'lia bristles at Kr'lin's comment. "The Phoenix wingleader is /always/ a good wingleader." She narrows her eyes at Kr'lin, and says firmly, "So if you aren't a good wingleader, you better get with the program." She adds, "ALthough I haven't seen anything to indicate that you'll be a /bad/ one."

Kr'lin pshaws and waves a dismissive hand in L'lia's way, "I've never been one to follow tradition. All the Phoenix wingleaders I've seen have been stiff by the books wingleaders. Such a bore." But, Kr'lin has bigger fish to fry. He has a seat to reclaim, "I would be free of you though. I'll handle the next person when they arise. Until then. Up, up!"

Hanneke might cross her arms, except that would make holding on difficult, and she's holding in without cease. "No." Petulance incarnate, she sticks her nose in the air, noting, "I bet R'ea was a better wingleader than Kr'lin is."

L'lia just stares at Kr'lin, "Say /what/?" She sets her glass of juice on the table, and takes a step towards Kr'lin, ignoring the issue of the chair. "That's a load of dragon-doo, sir." Stiffly, L'lia pronounces each word carefully, measuring her phrases, "All the Phoenix wingleaders have been /dignified/ and have done their duty to Ista and to Pern. Are you telling me, /sir/, that that is a tradition you'd dismiss?"

Kr'lin snorts in Hanneke's direction, "R'ea? How good could she have been? Hmm? She's not the wingleader anymore. I am." He's just reaffirming that fact, you see. "So, up, up. Out of The Seat. I have been away from it for much too long." L'lia, on the other hand, gets a yawn, "That sounds boring. Where's the excitement? Where's the motivation?"

Hanneke rolls her eyes--such intelligence and poise she holds tonight! "She *stepped* down," she comments, emphasising the word. "Because she *knew* that she wanted more time elsewhere. You could follow her example." That might be fun. "I'm not leaving. Wingleader."

Exasperated, "Excitement gets people /killed/ in 'fall, Kr'lin." L'lia glares at him, and adds, "I cannot imagine what D'san was thinking, when he put you in charge of my wing, if /that/ is your attitude."

Kr'lin guffaws, the horror of it all! Not that he's too put off by L'lia's comments, it's the imputence of Hanneke in refusing to leave The Seat! "Ooo, you're pushing it, Missy. You're this close to getting dawn sweeps." He holds up a hand, forefinger and thumb a smidgen apart. "Up, up." Although, he does have to respond to L'lia somehow, "Well, I'd hope I don't have to tell you that there isn't any Thread falling."

Hanneke holds steadfast to her chair, commenting only, "But there *will* be thread, and we have to keep the traditions alive. That's what Mother always said."

D'nic arrives. What, no fanfare? Where's the marching band? The dancing girls? The adoring fans? Oh, that's right, it's their day off. Gotta let them rest their applauding hands and their squealing voices. "Hey."

Insulted, L'lia stalks over to Kr'lin, and says tightly, "Sir." Her use of the honorific is by no means respectful. "Your /job/ is to prepare the wing for when fall comes. Your responsibility is to ensure that the wing works together, properly, for when threadfall comes, and to do Ista's duty. If that is something you don't find important, /sir/, I respectfully suggest you speak to Weyrleader D'san so that he can find a wingleader who will."

Kr'lin waves a hand at L'lia, again, "Hush now. Can't you see I have important things to deal with now?" Namely, getting his seat back, "Aww, come on, Hanneke. I just let you sit in it so you could see how perfect it was. You weren't supposed to keep it." Then, since the stick hasn't been working, he tries the carrot, "I tell you what. If you get out of the seat, I'll assign L'lia all your dawn sweeps for the rest of the month."

Hanneke shakes her head insistantly: "You stood up, I sat down, now it's mine!" Childish logic sometimes has a certain truth to it, doesn't it? "And L'lia's *right*. You're not a very good wingleader, if you act like that. It's childish." She can't wave: her hands are occupied, she she simply calls towards D'nic--"Hihi!"

D'nic aims in the direction of the greeting that he received -- Hanneke. His fan club. Who's the leader of the band that's made for you and me.. D-O-M-I-N-I... C-. That's all that's left from his name. But, wait... D'-N-I-C. There. He strolls on over to the debate-in-process, nodding to L'lia and Kr'lin as they banter. "Hey, nice chair you got there, Hanneke."

L'lia says tightly, "Sir." She looks icily at Kr'lin, "You are welcome to assign me to any sweeps you chose. I am certain that a wingleader of your... wisdom will know the appropriate use of my talents." She offers Kr'lin a sardonic salute; nothing like insulting someone by using too much formality. "I think.. I shall go. Good day, sir." She nods towards D'nic and Hanneke, giving them a slight smile.

Kr'lin oos as one is down and that leaves just the chair thief, "It's my chair. She stole it." L'lia is quickly forgotten. After all, she was talking serious stuff, Kr'lin didn't come down to the living cavern for that purpose, so he's not going to acknowledge it. He's going to mock it, actually. "I was sitting in it, then she wouldn't believe me when I said it was the perfect chair, so I had her sit in it so she could test it out and see that I was right."

Hanneke calls after L'lia, charmingly--"Have fun, L'lia! I'll fight him off the chair; he'll never win!" She sticks her tongue out towards Kr'lin, noting, "It's *my* chair, now."

D'nic gives L'lia a wave and a grin. After all, she's not insulting /him/. "See ya." Kr'lin gets a slow nod, "Did you call dibs on it that you were going to take it back after she tried it out?" Adding with a shrug of his shoulders, "Cause, well, if you didn't, then you know what they say, Kr'lin... finders keepers, losers weepers." That's the rule.

L'lia glares at her wingleader, and mutters, "D'san must have lost his mind.." She stalks away from Kr'lin, her former good mood completely lost. "I go to Igen for 8 turns.. and the dedication of certain.. riders.. disappears." With that, she stalks out.

Kr'lin snorts at D'nic, "What do you mean, did I call dibs on it? I was sitting in it. It's not like I was getting out of The Seat because I was giving it up. I was only letting her /try/ it out. I didn't say anything about her being able to keep it."

Hanneke pipes up, as one does, "You didn't say anything about me not being able to keep it, either! So that makes your claim null."

Caeruleth> Having exited the weyr, L'lia swears, "Shards. What a tunnel-snake headed idiot. WHat the sharding-shells what D'san thinking when he put /him/ in charge of Phoenix?"

Kassanna walks into the living cavern almost bumping shoulders with L'lia. She looks confused and looks towards the chatting riders. "Did something happen?" She calls out to the other three.

D'nic shakes his head, "But if you got up, Kr'lin, and even /offered/ it to Hanneke, then it's hers until she gets up. Unless she calls it that she's gonna sit back down in less than five minutes, cause then she's still got dibs on it, and it's still hers." D'nic has handed down his judgement. None may argue his decision.

Hanneke's in a precarious situation here, but, luckily, she fails to think of the future, and simply sticks her tongue out at Kr'lin. "I win!" D'nic is beamed at, as is Kassanna: "Kr'lin's being stupid, but I've won, now." All is explained. With crystal clarity.

Kr'lin isn't about to listen to a pair of dimglows, especially ones that don't know where their towels are. Really, Kr'lin is the hoopty frood here and that is The Seat. He isn't about to let this one slide, "I didn't say anything about you being able to keep it!" To Kassana, Kr'lin just shrugs, "I don't know. Something about tradition and D'san having bad selections skills." He wasn't paying attention, you see.

Kassanna raises an eyebrow and winks at Hanneke excepting her explaination. "Have you been causing trouble again Kr'lin?" She asks shaking her head slowly making her way towards the riders.

D'nic knows exactly where his towel is, thank you very much. It's on the towel rack in his weyr. Uh-huh. "Yeah, but if you didn't say anything about her /not/ being able to keep it, Kr'lin, then you lost it." D'nic The Wise lets out a soft sigh, "Just let the chair go, Kr'lin, you'll find another one someday. Sure, maybe it won't be as comfortable, or good for your back, but it'll keep you from standing." He gives Hanneke a pat on the shoulder and a wink, "Enjoy your chair, Hanneke. You've earned it, fair and square."

Who would ever travel without a towel? It's an essential. But Hanneke -- dear, sweet Hanneke -- probably dropped it on the floor, somewhere. That's normal. Right. Beaming up at D'nic, she notes, "Oh, I will! It's mine, all mine!" Forever, and ever, and until she stands up, which, knowing Hanneke, won't be very far away.

Kassanna is confused and will just leave now. She gets the feeling that she's suppost to back out now so she does very slowly not to cause any disruption to the quaraling three.

Kr'lin always travels with his towel, keeps it nicely tucked under his straps. Right where it should be. "Oh, no. It isn't yours. D'nic has no power to decide who gets the seat. He's about as knowledgeable as a ground turnip. And a turnip that was ground three years ago. So, basically. D'nic's brain is rotten. RAnks right up there with pondscum."

D'nic rolls his eyes, "Whatever. Rules are rules, Kr'lin, and my brain has nothing to do with it." No use trying to argue their relative intelligences. Kr'lin is probably smarter than D'nic and Hanneke put together. "You're just jealous of Hanneke, cause she's smart enough to not get up from the perfect chair."

Hanneke doesn't have the words to sound good, so she simply beams upwards at Kr'lin in conjunction with D'nic's 'she's smart enough' statement. Yes, this is Lady Intelligence, right here.

Kr'lin snorts! and just glares, "Your rules make about as much sense as Hanneke being the best weyrling." He has to toss that one in, "Absolutely none. The only person it would make sense to is.. well.. You and Hanneke."

D'nic grins, "That's all they need to make sense to. Two against one, Kr'lin. We win, you lose." Simple. When in doubt, play the majority card. And hope the wingleader doesn't pull rank. "Right Hanneke?"

Hanneke rolls her eyes, exchanging with D'nic, "He's too *old* to understand rules. But that's *exactly* right."

Kr'lin bahs and waves a hand in their direction, "Whatever. Y'all make a tunnel snake look like the smartest thing on the planet." And with that, he spins and makes a bee line for the exit. "Idiotic little twits." is heard as he ducks out.

Caeruleth> Kr'lin points at Caeruleth as he departs, "It's your fault!" He has to blame someone, you see and she's nearby.

D'nic smirks after the departing wingleader, "Yeah, that's right, walk away. You know you're wrong." Snorting, he adds, "And he thinks /we're/ the idiots."

Hanneke rolls her eyes, tongue stuck out in a burst of not unusual immaturity after her departing Wingleader. "We won," she notes, quietly. "We beat him!"

D'nic brushes his knuckles on his chest, "Of course we did. We had the rules on our side. Can't break the rules, no matter what." Pausing for a moment, evil grin creeping to his lips, "So, can I try out this chair, see what all the fuss is about?"

Oh dear. Poor Hanneke. She hesitates, then nods: "I suppose you can try it." Another hesitation--and then, a flash of brilliance. "But I want it back!" Dibs, dibs, dibs!

Rats! She /is/ smarter than she looks. D'nic sighs, "Fine, you can have it back after I try it out..." Hanneke wins again. This had better not go to her head.

"I win, I win!" trills Hanneke -- who has definitely let it go to her head -- as she jumps up from the chair, dancing about, although her eyes stay firmly fastened upon the chair: *her* chair.

L'lia enters from the Weyr's bowl, outside.

D'nic rolls his eyes as he settles his butt down into the chair. "Hmmm." He wiggles a little, sliding down in the seat, then pushing himself back upright. "Hmmm." One foot is outstretched to prop itself up on a nearby chair -- deemed the lesser chair of the two, no doubt. "I dunno, Hanneke... it doesn't seem like such a great chair to me." Another wiggle, foot is put back on the floor. "Kinda crooked, actually."

Hanneke's face falls. "But Kr'--" Has he lied to her, again? Stomping her foot, she turns to flee, right past L'lia--"I'm going to *kill* hime!" Whoadear.

You walk out of the Living Caverns into the bowl.

Hanneke, on her way through, sticks her tongue out at all the dragons: they're all nasty. "Bad Kr'lin!" Ooh, she's swearing, now. Or not.