The following is a log of roleplay from PernMUSH . The World of Pern(tm)' and 'The Dragonriders of Pern(r)' are copyright to Anne McCaffrey (c) l967. This is a recorded online session, by permission of the author but generated on pernMUSH for the benefit of people unable to attend.

9/16/02

Telgar Weyr's Living Cavern(#750RDJM$)

This huge cavern is sufficiently roomy to hold a large portion of the Weyr's population without feeling cramped. There's always a bustle of activity here. Fragrant dishes are constantly in preparation for mealtimes: currently for the mid-day meal. Drudges are always present, either cleaning under Pierron's watchful eye, or helping fetch and carry. A myriad of glowbaskets and many ever-lit hearths make the cavern warm and inviting despite its size. The scents of cooking meats, baking breads and pastries, and the pungent aroma of spices hang mouthwateringly in the air. It is little wonder that those seeking to relax nearly always find their way here to do it.

A short tunnel jaunts northward out to the bowl and the merry sounds of cooking, chores, and laughter echo from the kitchen at the southeast end of the cavern near the easterly passage to the rest of the lower caverns. Within the lower caverns is an entrance to the infirmary weyr to care for injured dragons and riders.

Tarien's seated at a table, with a pitcher and a mug both sitting on the table in front of her -- juice, or water, since the pitcher's not steaming. The expression on her face is a pleasantly vacant one, as if she's not entirely in the here and now.

Cheni walks into the cavern with freshly washed hair, braided in a thick single plait and hanging down her back, clean clothes that look as if they just came out of her press, face scrubbed to the life of her and a slightly sour expression hidden behind a smile plastered on her face. As she passes by the Weyrwoman towards the meal table, she nods pleasantly enough. "Good morning, Tarien."

Startled, Tarien peers blankly at Cheni for half a second before fixing a smile in place. "Morning, Cheni. How are you today?"

Mishor strolls in from the bowl, seeming to be looking for someone, as he's looking carefully at everyone's knot. “One of the Balan hold cotholdings duties, can someone direct me to someone to deal with a tithe I've brought?

Makran steps into the living cavern from the inner caverns, moving slowly towards the serving tables but also looking around the cavern with some interest.

Cheni looks over her shoulder as she helps herself to klah and smiles back to Tarien, still that plastered I'll be cheerful, even if it kills me, sort of smile. She pales a little as she looks over the selection on the meal table, places her mug in the cleaning bin and starts again, this time with just water. "I'm fine Tarien, thank you for asking." At Mishor's greeting, she nods but lets someone more official take care of the business, settling back on a chair at the candidate's table.

Tarien's brows lift and she takes a closer look at Cheni, but says nothing -- at least, not right now. A smile of greeting is given Makran's way, then, to Mishor, she offers, "Telgar's duties to Balan Hold and its cotholds. I'll try to help you if I can, though I may direct you at the Headwoman or the Ste-- ah. One of the Steward's assistants."

Mishor smiles at Tarien, "I just need to know where I put the food tithe which is my responsibility... others should be coming with the rest, later, but the food was going to spoil, so we put our fastest runners on it."

Cheni takes a careful sip of water and her color returns slowly to normal. The mention of spoiling food makes her nose wrinkle up and she concentrates on the mug.

"Ah!" Tarien smiles at Mishor, and nods toward the kitchens, "There's a storage room off the kitchens, that's the best place for it -- and there are plenty of people to help with the lifting, which means you can have a seat and relax for a little while, if you'd like. It's not an easy journey, I'm sure." Another look's cast Cheni's way, but still, she says nothing.

Mishor nods at Tarien. "I might just do that.. I started yesterday, only stopping for about two hours sleep. I'll need to crash out in a bit, but at the moment, I'm so tired I'm wide-awake again."

Cheni nods silently in sympathetic empathy with Mishor but again, keeps quiet, as she watches the weyrwoman and cotholder chat. She flips her wet braid over her shoulder so it's closer to the heat from the hearth to allow it to dry.

Tarien refills her glass from that pitcher sitting on her table, and turns a sympathetic smile Mishor's way. "I can certainly understand what you mean. You're welcome to catch some sleep in the dorms, when you're ready; meanwhile, please help yourself to food and drink, and let us know if there's anything else you need?"

Mishor shakes his head. "Nothing else I need. Unless there's some freshly brewed klah? I've not had klah for two days now, and I really _really_ like my klah."

Cheni pipes up finally. "There's fresh klah on the hearth, hot and steaming, usually quite appealing to me. And I noticed fresh bread rolls out as well."

"There's -always- fresh klah," Tarien replies to Mishor, grinning. "A lot of people feel the same way -- I'm usually one of them, but colder is better right now, at least to me."

Mishor manages to find a mug, slightly fumble-fingeredly, then pours some klah from the pot on the hearth. And drinks it. And suddenly he looks a lot less fumble-fingered. "That's better."

Cheni blinks in amazement at how fast that klah went down. She gives a slow low whistle of appreciation. "You must be used to eating on the run. I'm Cheni, by the way."

Faramen walks here from the Inner Cavern.

Faramen wanders in from the inner caverns, a pipe tucked into a loop on his belt. The lanky Harper is unfolding several hides as he walks.

Mishor chuckles at Cheni softly. "Not really. Just I've been travelling without eating much for one and a half days. Nothing hot."

Cheni still shakes her head in amazement. "I could never drink klah that fast, but I saw a boy from Keroon once who drank it about that fast, said his throat got used to it. He also liked it so strong a spoon could stay standing in it." She looks towards the inner cavern entrance as Faramen comes in and nods a friendly, casual greeting.

Mishor sits down somewhere out of the way, humming softly to himself. He looks tired. He nods faintly to Cheni.

M'ndor waves at the incoming Harper, "Hello there Harper..."

Faramen heads towards the drinks, giving Tarien and Cheni a warm smile before pouring himself some wine. "Afternoon, all," he says cheerfully enough. "Ah, Tarien, did Makran?"

Cheni is embarrassed by Mishor's faint smile and hum and mutters across to the cotholder. "I'm sorry, I tend to babble on about things of no importance at times. Forgive me?" She sighs and looks back to her water mug.

Mishor stands up, after a few minutes, nodding at th'harper, and then smiles at Tarien. "I think I'll oblige meself of the dorms, if you can direct me?"

Tarien grins at Mishor, but doesn't say anything, simply props her feet up on an empty chair and sips at whatever it is in her own mug, content to let the conversation progress without her. Until, that is, Faramen approaches, and the young woman's left blinking up at the Harper, with an absent smile. "Makran? Ah... was he supposed to? I think he came in, briefly, but he left again -- chores, I'd imagine."

Faramen sighs, faintly disgusted. "I should have known better, my dear." He gives the smallholder a polite nod. "Harpers' duties, good sir."

Cheni's ears perk up at the mention of Makran and she looks from Faramen to Tarien, smelling a scoop. As Mishor looks as if he is about to depart, she scoots on her chair more in the direction of the Harper and weyrwoman.

Mishor smiles at Faramen, "Balan hold cotholding's duties to you journeyman."

Mishor then strolls in towards the caverns, muttering about being able to find the dorms.

Quick to leap to Makran's defense, Tarien adopts her best sweet and charming smile, remarking, "They're awfully busy, you know, our Candidates. I'm sure it's not his fault, he was probably called away just as he walked in." Distractedly, she waves to Mishor at his departure, though her attention remains on the Harper.

Faramen returns Tarien's charming smile with one of his own. "Of course, my dear. I simply wish that he had delivered the hides I promised you before being called away." Settling to a seat, he sips at his wine.

Cheni locks that little nugget in her brain and she smiles an evil little grin over her mug. Her eyes scan the room again and she notices M'ndor's graying hair and the knot of dragonrider on his shoulder. "Good day, sir."

Tarien smiles at Faramen over the rim of her mug. "I'm sure I'll see him later, but perhaps, since you're here, you and I can discuss what it was you had him deliver to me?"

Faramen glances at Cheni as he sips his wine. "Perhaps, but would it be wise to do so in front of a Candidate? If you'd like them to be a surprise, that is..."

Cheni blinks back from her thoughts. "I can leave, if you like? I am sorry, I didn't mean to be eavesdropping." She almost manages to look sincere with a flutter of innocent lashes and wide eyes.

Tarien misses that smile of Cheni's, but does glance her way at Faramen's reminder. Brow furrowed slightly, she nods, then grins and adds, "There are always... quieter places to talk. Or, if you'd rather, we can speak later. I do agree, though -- I had -hoped- to keep it a surprise."

Liah walks in from the bowl.

Liah slips quietly into the living cavern, a shawl tucked around her shoulders and a satchel carried in a hand.

Faramen smiles faintly. "Later would, perhaps, be better. It will give me a chance to track Makran down, and retrieve those sketches..." As Liah slips inside, his smile warms. "Ah, Liah! What an unexpected pleasure!"

Liah returns the Harper’s smile, "Hello Faramen, how are you today?" she moves further into the room, her path varying slightly to venture towards him.

"That's not necessary, Cheni," Tarien replies, particularly as Faramen's attention shifts. Her eyes glaze over briefly and, with another one of those dimpled smiles, she asides to the Harper, "Later would be best anyway -- Mirrath is asking after me." She gets to her feet, finishes the last of her juice, and waves as she starts on her way to the door. "Telgar's duties to Harper and Igen," is offered to Liah, just before she makes her exit.

M'ndor smiles over at the Healer.

Faramen gives Tarien one of his nearly ridiculous bows. "I await your pleasure, my dear..

Cheni calls to Liah. "Telgar's duties to Igen and Healer Hall, ma'am. Nice to see you again." She stifles a giggle at Faramen's bow but as Tarien departs, she purses her lips, puzzling through the comments made. "Sketches?" She mutters to herself. "Interesting."

M'ndor perks up at the word sketches, "Mms, I used to sketch in my youth... before I impressed. Of course, Harper Hall also even thought I was a Harper at one time too."

Liah bobs a vague curtsey to those greeting, "Igen's and Healer's duties, although I come more as a social call than upon any sort of business."

M'ndor laughs, "About the only thing I was able to write, was Old M'Donald's Weyr...sigh, but no one found it funny as I recall.

Faramen grins at M'ndor. "Then, sir, you are one song ahead of me. I've never written anything other than class exercises. Composition was my worst class. Liah, lovely lady, come tell me how Igen fares this autumn."

Cheni chuckles ruefully to the Healer. "I figure I might as well be safe and offer duties to whoever will take them." As M'ndor opens up a bit, the candidate nods, encouragingly. "I'm not much of an artistic type. That are of discipline at Harper would be totally lost on me."

Liah settles into a chair with the group, "I leave composing to my sister." she laughs softly, "Igen fares warmer this autumn, but well. Busy as always."

M'ndor chuckles at Faramen, "Well, I'm not sure that could really be classified as a composition at all. I remember the master of composition being very upset with me when I produced that gem in his class."

M'ndor smiles at the candidate, "I was more of a rascal as a Harper, although I was told I could draw fairly well, and was never quite sure what the MasterHarper saw in me. She was probably just as glad I impressed Brimath and was the Weyr’s problem." and winks.

Faramen sets his wine aside, along with his hides. M'ndor's comment elicits a grin. "Our composition master was never too well pleased by my efforts, either. Sometimes I think he passed me simply so that he would not have to read my efforts any more." Turning back to Liah, he says, "I am glad to hear that. May I get you something to drink, my dear?"

M'ndor chuckles and nods, taking another drink of Klah, "I have no doubt that was very similar to my case. Of course, he was such a grouch!"

Cheni smiles. "I am sure you were much better than I would ever dream of being." She pauses, giving M'ndor an apologetic look. "I'm Cheni, by the way, candidate here from Braddle Hold, I'm afraid I haven't met you as of yet?"

Liah thinks a moment and then nods to Faramen, "Something warm if you would, or point me in the right direction." a nod after Cheni's introduction and a glance to M'ndor, "I don’t think we've been introduced either, I'm Liah, healer posted to Igen Weyr."

M'ndor says "Well met Cheni, the candidate from Braddle Hold..." he says smiling, "I'm M'ndor rider of bronze Brimath... and one of the ancients." as he points to his grey hair."

M'ndor nods to Liah, "Always a pleasure to meet a Healer... can't imagine I'd be in this good of shape, at my age, with all the antics and thread that Brimath and I have seen over the years."

Cheni chuckles politely and smiles the smile of one who knows she is lying for politeness sake. "Oh no, not that old, sir, I am sure, and well met, my regards to your lifemate as well."

Faramen gets Liah a mug of klah, returning as the introductions are made. "I beg your pardon, I should have thought to make the introductions myself. I'm Faramen, Journeyman Harper." He hands Liah her drink with a small flourish.

Liah smiles her thanks to Faramen, taking her mug before turning that smile back to the rider, "Entirely skill, I'm certain."

M'ndor finished off his Klah, "Well met Harper Faramen... "

Cheni lifts her braid up from over her shoulder, checking on its dryness. As a server comes in with a new pot of stew, she sniffs the air experimentally and swallows, then gets to her feet to help herself to a small bowl. As she carries it back to her table, she looks at the item as if it’s something to be conquered.

Faramen grins at M'ndor as he settles back into a seat next to Liah. "Well met, sir. Am I correct in suspecting that you Impressed Brimath before this current Pass began?"

M'ndor nods in answer to Faramen's query, "That I did good sir. Although near enough to the beginning that the Weyrs were looking for any likely candidate to Impress. Otherwise, I doubt as a Journeyman Harper I'd ever have been allowed near the grounds."

Liah muses quietly, "I wonder how things will change when the Pass ends. Or if it really will end."

Faramen nods to M'ndor as he sips his wine slowly. "I understood from my parents that there was a certain skepticism about whether Thread would return, at that time, and that some Holders were reluctant to allow their children to Stand."

Cheni scoops up a spoonful of stew ready to take a bite but at the last moment, the mission is scrubbed and she places the spoon carefully back in the bowl and pushes the bowl away. "From what I have heard, Passes do end, but being born in a Pass, I can't imagine what that would be like, I mean, being free to walk anywhere at anytime without having to consult with Threadfall charts?"

M'ndor nods, "Yes, most definitely. That and many Holders felt that the weyrs were a drain on their holdings."

Faramen chuckles. "Ah, it will be a joy, in many ways, when the Pass ends," he says with a wink to Cheni. "The Halls gave unstintingly, if I recall correctly. Several Journeymen, and at least one Master, am I right?"

Liah looks curious, "A Master? Really? My history is poor apparently."

M'ndor says "Yes, they did to some extent. It was more certain Halls than others. Some of the Halls more attuned to producing goods were a bit more skeptical and unwilling than Halls such as Harper and Healer Halls.""

Faramen smiles at Liah. "Yes, correct me if I'm wrong, M'ndor, but Amberyl was Instrument CraftMaster at the time of her Impression to gold Jeniath, was she not?"

M'ndor nods, "Yes, I do believe she was.

Liah mmms thoughtfully, "Quite a blow to the craft, very prestigious for her."

"A Craftmaster? They must have been indeed desperate for suitable candidates." She ponders. “And now, everyone, even my parents were thrilled with my invitation to stand."

K'ran's apparently begun resigning himself to Pierron's shows of exaggerated deference, and so answers with little more than a terse nod and a wry smile as he drifts through the milling midafternoon crowd toward the serving tables. While he's layering cheese upon a slice of bread, he tips a look toward one of the conversations that reach his ears, and warms a more heartfelt smile toward the group, toward Cheni in particular. "Afternoon," he offers, pleasantly. "And duties to Healercraft, of course."

M'ndor nods to Liah, "In a sense they were, Jeniath was one of the few queens to have been laid in quite some time."

Cheni nods respectfully to K'ran. '"Good afternoon." Her attention returns to the discussion at hand. "I learned that history as a child under the Harpers of course but when you are in a remote hold, it doesn't seem all that important. In a weyr, it comes to life."

Liah smiles a little shyly to K'ran before nodding to M'ndor, "Quite the shift in focus, from Instrumentcraft to Weyrwoman."

Faramen salutes K'ran with his mostly empty wineglass, then nods to M'ndor and Liah. "She went to Benden, I believe, and laid a gold in her very first clutch. From my parents' stories, that was quite a shock to those certain dragons were useless and in decline."

M'ndor nods to Faramen, "Yes, she did." he says with a certain sadness.

Faramen's smile turns wry. "I'm afraid that my knowledge of her tale ends there, as my parents were not much concerned with anything outside Fort's traditional area."

Liah is thoughtful, "My parents spoke rarely of the past, and never of the Weyr."

M'ndor nods solemnly, "Neither was I, at least the Fort Weyr area, for a good number of years until eventually moving to Benden."

K'ran, with that bread in hand, and a mug of juice, too, eases toward the knot of conversants without pretense for Cheni's nod, Liah's smile, or Faramen's salute. "I had parents -- really, my old man -- who used to curse the air blue about those worthless, freakish riders holed up in their weyrs."

Faramen's smile becomes a smirk. "I hope they changed their minds when you Impressed, K'ran."

M'ndor laughs at K'ran's comments, "Well met sir. And yes, I don't honestly blame them... I know that several of my fellow weyrlings and I were absolute terrors."

Cheni startles, blinking a couple of times. "Really, K'ran? I've heard of such people. My family and my holders' were basically polite, although what my holder said when I was not around, that is another matter." She murmurs, glancing Liah's way. "I heard rumour of a nasty incident at SeaCrafters recently however, I guess such prejudices still exist."

Liah laughs softly, "Same could be said about apprentices." she points out, "Most of them are terrors at some point."

"Not actually, Faramen," shrugs K'ran, his smile turned sanguine. "I haven't spoken with my parents for, oh. Has to be almost ten Turns, now. I see my uncle Brayan now and again, though, usually up Bitra way. He tells me they're both doing alright, and that I've got a pair of younger sisters."

M'ndor smiles at Liah, "Ah yes, I was that too as an apprentice. However, apprentices don't have dragons that can flit between one place and another in a mere twinkling of an eye."

Liah nods ruefully to M'ndor, "True enough, although I think some of them like to think they can, especially with an irate Master bearing down upon them for some prank. You can almost see them wishing themselves *between*."

M'ndor chuckles and nods.

K'ran then asides, for Cheni's benefit, "My parents were Traders, see. My father, especially, always prided himself on being a self-reliant sort, who didn't truly *need* riders for anything as long as he had a fair notion of when Thread was coming so he could get everything of value under cover. He'd wax poetic about how we ought to grub all of the Northern Continent, and just have done."

M'ndor says "Although I must say, better an irate Master than an irate Weyrlingmaster. Shards, I'll never forget the tongue lashing and more I and a fellow blue weyrling received after attempting to go between without instructions."

Faramen nods, chuckling, to Liah. "Indeed." To K'ran, he nods, as well. "I see," he says quietly, but doesn't continue as M'ndor tells his tale.

Liah considers, "I think whatever Weyrlingmasters tap into, Apprentice Masters do as well. So much of their.. mannerisms are similar."

Cheni's eyes fill with quiet sympathy. "A lot of sacrifice you made for Pern, then, K'ran." She speaks matter of factly. "You seem to have a new family at Telgar though and of course, a very handsome lifemate." She only snorts at the mention of grubs and repeats, with a thin coating of polite respect towards K'ran's father. "I've heard of such people." Her eyes widen as large as saucers at M'ndor's comments. "You didn't really try that?"

Yashira trudges in, heading immediately for the serving tables and keeping to herself.

M'ndor says "Aye, that we did."

M'ndor grins.

M'ndor smiles softly, "With thread, never knock any iota of protection one can get. After all, even with the southern continent being grubbed, they still need dragons, no?"

Faramen waves to Yashira, though he doesn't seem to expect any sort of response from the brownrider. "You seem to have survived both the experience and the tongue-lashing," he remarks with a grin.

M'ndor says "Yes Liah, I'd imagine so... I wouldn't be surprised to find out that all Weyrling and Apprentice Master's have the same ancestor!""

Yashira grunts vaguely; could be a reply to Faramen, could be a grunt for no reason. She arrives at the table, takes a plate, and seems to take food at random to plunk onto it.

"Surprised you survived, M'ndor," says K'ran, with a bit of amused reverence. "Your Weyrlingmaster, I mean. Between pales in comparison." For the rest, he lifts his shoulders in a diffident shrug, and explains, "My old man's bullheaded, like me. And, well. I'd like to meet those sisters, someday. They're nine and seven, Brayan tells me. Be interesting to see how they'd feel about discovering they're both aunts, already."

Cheni grins at M'ndor. "And Headwomen of Holds, I think they all send secret messages to each other by firelizards to compare notes on how to make lives miserable." As she notes the rider's entrance, she calls out a soft greeting. "Good afternoon, Yashira."

Yashira grunts in Cheni's general direction, grabbing a pitcher and pouring herself a cup of something to drink.

Faramen nods in agreement with K'ran. "If you give me your parents names, I can ask the Harpers to keep an ear out, if you like, K'ran."

M'ndor chuckles and nods at Cheni, "Yes K'ran, I am too, I am too. Like I told Liah earlier, I think a lot of it was due to Healer Hall."

Cheni whistles softly. 'That'd be hard, Liah, I found it hard enough being my mother's daughter and she didn't hold much responsibility." She pushes her untouched lunch away from her and takes her water mug in hand again. "I don't have much family beyond who is at Braddle, they are easy to keep track of, they don't go anywhere. I'm about the only one who has ventured past Southern Boll."

Liah smiles to Cheni, "Headwoman Mum, Steward Dad and Guard Captain Papa. Hold upbringing with a weyr-style family. My siblings and I are less a strict parentage thing than a sense of family." she gestures with a hand, "Scattered from Bitra to Ista."

Faramen leans back and stretches his long legs out. "The best of both worlds," he teases Liah gently.

Yashira takes her plate and cup over to a table near the kitchen, plunking the plate down and dropping into her chair. She eyes the weird assortment she's picked up, scowls, and proceeds to eat it all anyway.

"Jays," marvels K'ran, at that -- then, 'round another bite of his bread, mentions, "I thought stretched from here to Fort was good. What inspires them to spawn so much as they do, Liah?"

Cheni hmms as Liah continues. "Be hard to blend into the stonework, I suppose, with all those sorts of responsible people in your family." She does a double take. "Excuse me, did you say, Steward Dad and Captain Papa?" Out of the corner of her eye, she watches Yashira's lunch and pales slightly before turning back to learn from the others.

Liah mms, "Well, having two fathers involved helps the sibling count quite a bit. My mother married twice. Me from her first marriage, the other two kids from the second. Her second husband brought kids into the scene as well, ironically enough, one of whom was my Papa's foster daughter. When you take /their/ siblings into account, then it gets extended and messier."

Faramen chuckles, sipping his wine. He doesn't seem to have anything to contribute to the sibling discussion.

Yashira tears a roll apart and stuffs it into her mouth, chewing ferociously. She keeps her eyes on her food.

Cheni shakes her head and laughs out right. "I can see that would make for interesting family reunions. I have 2 older brothers and a younger sister. All fully my siblings, my eldest brother was recently married rather quickly. It seems that I shall be an Aunt before the eggs hatch." Her eyes twinkle with merriment. "And the Lava Lounge is minus one bar wench." She shifts her chair even more, Yashira's eating definitely making her wince.

K'ran's begun to grow aware of Yashira's mood, and watches the Thunderbolt rider with an odd mix of concern and apprehension, but supposes, "That'd certainly make for plenty of relations, Liah. Think I ought to be glad that my family tree doesn't have quite so many branches?"

Yashira slams back most of her drink, plunks the cup on the table, and continues to demolish her food. She's about half done her meal now.

Faramen grins at K'ran. "I've always been thankful for that, myself," he admits.

M'ndor nods in agreement.

M'ndor says "Although I suppose us weyr-folk don't necessarily have the same stringent ties to family as do Holders, due to the fostering that goes on."

Cheni nods thoughtfully. "I have only known my parents and my one grandfather, fostering, I do understand the need, but it's foreign to us, some holders might think it was abandoning your children." The girl swallows most of her mug of water but the muted sounds of Yashira's lunch activities continues to play in the back of her mind and she moves her chair even more.

Faramen shrugs vaguely. "I was fostered quite young. I'm rather glad of it, myself. My parents are fine in small doses, but..."

M'ndor chuckles, "Well be glad you haven't Impressed then my Harper friend. Dragons are *almost* as bad as parents."

M'ndor glances out fondly towards the bowl where Brimath is sunning.

Faramen's smile is slightly brittle around the edges. "Ah, but if I had, my parents would be less of a trial."

"Depends on the dragon," is K'ran's good-natured argument. "I don't have Indrath trying to father me around." Pause. "Much."

M'ndor chuckles sagely.

Yashira finishes up; she takes her last meatroll and is in the process of shoving it into her mouth on her way out.

Cheni grins at M'ndor. "Really? I never thought of them as that way, I mean, the way I've heard weyrlinghood described, it's much like being a parent or mentor. That relationship changes as you grow?" She sighs a little sigh of relief as Yashira finishes her lunch and gets to her feet. "I think I am going to go get some fresh air, if you'll excuse me all?"

Faramen finishes his wine and twirls the glass contemplatively. "Certainly, my dear," he says quietly in Cheni's direction. "Enjoy your break."

K'ran lifts his chin slightly by way of farewell to the candidate. "Take care of yourself, Cheni, hm?"

Cheni takes a deep breath and doesn't bother with any more niceties, she's out of there like a shot.

You walk down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.



*** Disconnected from PernMUSH ***

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