Drekyn walks in from the weyrling field.
R'ken walks in from the weyrling field.
T'milla walks in from the weyrling field.

T'milla tromps into the barracks grumbling lightly. She shakes her jacket a bit

Drekyn slips in from the weyrling field, keeping to the wall out of habit if nothing else. "If any of you are missing," she says, quietly but sternly, "they'll be held back. Understood? You're all junior weyrlings today but, barring any problems, you won't be tomorrow - and you'll be moving into your own weyrs within a month. So listen sharp, yes?"

R'ken pads in along with Drekyn. But he isn't /really/ here. He's just here to stand obediantly to ignore any pointed /looks/ Drekyn gives him, and look attentive. Let the /females/ teach this round, hah!

Cor is sprawled in an ungainly fashion on the cot in Khanueth's couch, trying to concoct a letter and having very little luck. One leg hangs over the edge of the couch, one is on the edge of her cot, on hand is making chicken scratches, the other harming stuck up on Khanueth's side, when the adults walk in. She scrambles out of her odd position and starts putting her stuff away.

Myca looks up and definate surprise crosses her face as she spies the non-weyrling non-weyrstaff person. She looks between T'milla and the weyrlingmaster assistants and then back at T'milla as she halts her stitch-work. Needle carefully stuck through the fabric and garment tucked back into the workbasket along with her other tools, she straightens on her cot and watches the influx of people. Drekyn's words prompt a wide knowing smile and she glances around to note the reactions of the others.

T'milla moves to stand near, or behind if possible, the Assistants quietly. She cast a look around the place having never seen the place before.

Deinha isn't missing. Of course. Neither is Sebayeth -- both are there, waiting complacently. And a bit nervously, though Deinha tries to hide it by leaning casually against her lifemate, one hand moving now and then to idly rub the young queen's hide. Deinha's expression brightens at mention of private weyrs, though, and she look at the weyrlings closest to her, as if to judge their reactions as well. Myca, in particular, is sent a quick grin.

Kaeralla was sitting next to her sunset-green, patting her 'mate's muzzle as she oils the green's perpetually dry hide, giving special care to the reddish streaks on the dragon's back. A glance upwards is given, one of slight surprise, as she notes the arrival of the Weyrlingmasters and the other greenrider. She's not missing indeed, legs are swung over the side of the couch and Kae leans forwards to listen to what Drekyn has to say.

O'kano perks noticeably from his corner of the barracks, seated upon Jharzeth's couch with legs dangling down. "Own weyrs?" A pause; after a moment a pleased expression crosses his countenance and he breathes, "/Space/. Privacy." The lesson itself is brushed off with a shrug, and he hops off the couch to take a few steps closer to the entrance and those who've recently entered. "So what've we got to learn today?" he inquires blithely. "Can't be too bad," he remarks in an undertone to his dark-toned bronze lifemate, who follows him out of the couch.

Oh, yes. Fine - leave The Talk to Drekyn. Now, weyrlings, when two people love each other /very/ much... "We've a guest here today, as I'm sure you've noticed," she adds, flashing a smile towards T'milla. "Due to the exact nature of today's lesson, Milla-lo-- T'milla will be helping." Drekyn approaches an unoccupied cot near the center of the room - time to dart a Look towards R'ken. Fine. /Don't/ help. She motions for Milla to come with her, and then turns her attention back to the weyrlings. It's not a very /nice/ attention but, this being Drekyn, it's only to be expected. "Tell me, P'uke, how much do you actually know about greens and golds?"

Cor grins, too, at the thought of her own weyr, though she's obviously more intent right now on getting her stuff put away in what little space is left in the couch. "Sounds great!" is her comment. "Hey, Khanueth, we may have our own place before my next Turnday." Khanueth rumbles appreciatively as he makes his way out of the couch behind her.

Myca turns that knowing look on O'kano, though the amusement in her eyes is heavily tinged with pity and sympathy. "I think this may be your hardest lesson to date," she murmurs to the bronzeling as she gets up to pet Eilanth and straighten her cot a bit, attention mostly on the senior riders present.

Deinha snorts. No, wait, that couldn't have been Deinha... Still, there are signs of distinct amusement on the girl's face as she looks at Puo, clearly interested in his response.

P'uke's response is prompt: "They're females. And greens are small, while golds are big." The bronzeling knows that much, at least; it's a bit hard to miss. A puzzled glance is sent towards Myca upon hearing her words, and eyebrows arch questioningly. After hissing out, "Why's that?" he peers back towards Drekyn and the rest and awaits the reaction to his answer.

T'milla glances helplessly at R'ken. Come on scardy cat. She follows Drekyn and offers a little wave. "Hello, weyrlings." She says with an amused smirk. She arches a black brow at O'kano, but keeps her mouth shut.

"Myca, when it's time for a comment from you, I'll be sure to ask for one," says Drekyn sharply. Ah, diplomacy - she'll be equally nasty and malevolent to /everyone/, without note for rank or creed. Except Milla, of course. It's almost always except Milla. "And how often do they rise, P'uke? What do you expect when Jharzeth decides that there's a glowing green out there in the field he just /can't/ resist? If you don't know - and most of you don't," bluerider adds sternly, "then I suggest you pay attention, yes? This isn't just about private weyrs."

Kaeralla shoots a look over at Puo at the bronzeling's mention of space and privacy. "Just think, Ami.. our own space, I can't wait." she grins slightly, leaning forwards some more, ears open and perked expectantly for the answer to the boy's repsonse.

Myca wrinkles her nose at Drekyn ruefully, more amused than taken aback, and stays silent. Bed straightened, she settles on the foot of it again and splits her attention between watching the reactions of her fellow weyrlings and listening to The Speech(tm).

<*Jharzeth*> Privately, Sebayeth thrums whisper-soft echoes of thought, feather-light touches of an excited, almost lemony yellow. << Mine says this is about uuuussss. Something special. >> There, blue intrudes, curiosity twining about the thoughts << But I am not sure I understand. >> to Eilanth, Jharzeth, Khanueth, and Amentith

Cor takes a seat on the side of Khanueth's couch that faces the AWLMs, et al, and prepares to listen. Something new is always good, she thinks. Maybe.

Gulp. Puo looks rather striken, although he stammers out something resembling a reply. "I don't ride one. How would I know?" He hesitates a moment before firmly adding, "Jharzeth's not going to be chasing any, anyways. I'm not going to let him." It's not proper, after all. "We'll...go somewhere else, maybe." Hands are perched on hips in an unconcious act of near-defiance -- just try to tell him otherwise. "It's not my concern."

The Speech. Eek, S'ara's walked into The Speech. Hang on a moment...The AWLM strides through the door, and pauses there, listening a moment. Her head bobs; she almost smiles, and she waits. Talking about flights is fine...

T'milla actually chuckles at what O'kano says.. Not bothering to hide it, but beyond that.. She's quiet.

<*Jharzeth*> Privately, Jharzeth allows a strain of intrigued ocher to invade others' thoughts as he follows up on the gold's remark. << Is it? >> A pause; amusement seeps in slowly, coloring the trumpet-like tone. << Mine isn't saying anything to me. >> to Khanueth, Amentith, Eilanth and Sebayeth

<*Jharzeth*> Privately, Eilanth's thoughts are warm sunshine streaking through an open doorway, excitement sparkling like dustmotes in the sunbeams. << Mine knows! Mine knows! She is amused, though I am not sure why. She believes this is "The Big Talk", whatever that is... Oh! They discuss... mating flights. What need is there for discussion of that? We know what to do, don't we? >> to Sebayeth, Khanueth, Amentith, and Jharzeth

Deinha's lips are still upturned in some sort of amusement. But it does, also, appear that she's rapidly sobering. "If only everyone could go elsewhere..." is the soft, soft murmur.

"That," says Drekyn, with just a touch of amusement, "I should rather like to see. I've never managed it with Zatmenith, and he's /far/ smaller than Jharzeth. Less stubborn too, unless I miss my mark. It is most /certainly/ your concern," she says sharply, "if you'd ever like to get out of these barracks. In one piece," she adds. Ooh. That was nasty even for Drekyn. And, as a non-sequitur, she reaches for T'milla's hand just as she flashes another one of those Looks towards R'ken. Aww. How sweet.

S'ara's nose twitches, and she enunciates, "Pakath, neither. And he can be horribly stubborn when he wants to."

R'ken has been doing his near-best to loom, honest. Though it's hard to loom and lounge at the same time, shoulders against the wall and ankles crossed. "Maybe, Puo, /maybe/. If Jharzeth lets you." He does nod absently at Drekyn-- and S'ara, too. "Male dragons like to chase. If I have to pull Cam in here to make the point for the bronze end of the spectrum, I'm sure I can. Mat's a lech, after all. Anyway, keeping them from-- even if you manage-- isn't healthy for them, really. You wouldn't want to knowingly do anything that isn't best for your lifemate." Pause. "Would you?" After all, it is P'uke.

"Flights aren't that bad," Myca comments quietly, the comment tugged out of her by the reactions of those around her. "They can be quite enjoyable." A faintly smug look crosses her features lightning quick and she holds her tongue again, but she certainly doesn't seem to be bothered by the topic under discussion. She sends Eilanth an amused look and pets the green's muzzle as she continues watching.

"Enjoyable, hmmm?" Kae glances over at Myca, throwing a companionable arm over Amentith's neck, well as far as she can reach anyways. "How many flights have you enjoyed?"

If O'kano pales a bit -- or a lot -- it's only to be suspected. In a tone that bridges on waspish, he suggests, "Maybe you've just not been strong enough to hold him back." The weyrling takes a step back, then, and bites down upon his lower lip while throwing a sour glance back at Jharzeth. "He'll listen." He clumps back to a seat; throwing himself down and crossing arms stubbornly, he sulks. A glare is sent with the young man's words as he addresses R'ken: "I know what's best for Jharzeth. And it doesn't include flights." Myca, meanwhile, is the recipient of yet another glower. "Maybe you'd think that -- you're from a weyr, after all. It isn't /proper/." The last word is stressed emphatically.

"I've been a substitute for Jess's flights before," Myca answers Kae briefly. "Actaully, O'kano, I'm Holdbred." Let Puo contemplate -that-.

Deinha brushes her hair back, in a gesture that no doubt indicates some hidden annoyance. Then, in Myca's direction, she comments, "But that's, ah, if you find things like .. ah... flight ... things... enjoyable." Okay, so we haven't mentioned any details, and she's already blushing... Maybe it's just hot in here? No, wait, it's Starmount.... And the blush deepens with Deinha's next words, "Not that, ah, you shouldn't at all, ever, but ... what if.." She trails off, then actually casts a *very* pleased smile at O'kano, "Yes. What he said."
"Tough." Is this coming from S'ara, she who is still shy about flights? "Nothing you can do about it now. They will chase, they will rise. In the Weyr, it -is- proper."
Deinha frowns suddenly. "A substitute?" She hasn't heard this before. And if Drekyn is trying to mention it, she probably isn't noticing. Since she's looking at Myca and all.

T'milla arches at brow at "O'kano. I might not be a guy.. But how would you feel If you got all excited about this one girl. The most beautiful woman on pern. And you were about to have a chance.. A chance you throughly beleive you have.. to have the best.. lovemaking experience in your entire younge life time.. How would you feel if you, O'kano, were dragged away?" She arches a brow and motions to his lifemate.. "That is most likely the way he would be feeling."

Kaeralla looks slightly intriuged, glancing over at her fellow green weyrling. "Substituted, hmm?"

"It's not," says Drekyn flatly. "I've had /one/ enjoyable flight." A sidelong glance at T'milla. "/One/. Zatmenith's caught less than a handful of times - daft blue's never been very good at it, and I'm grateful for that. If drinking yourself into a stupor because you just fell, for a candlemark or less, absolutely madly in love with someone who then turned around and tumbled into bed with someone else -- if that's your idea of a good time, then you're welcome to it. Substitutes exist," she concedes, "but it's remarkably difficult to get the timing right. If they're just a few rooms too far away when you call, or if they're outside the weyr altogether - well, sometimes it's just not soon enough."

Cor is simply sitting still at this point, listening to all the arguments coming at her from every angle. She doesn't have a clue, and doesn't really have any strong opinions formed, either.

S'ara adds, oh so cheerfuly, "The rider of the female dragon might be male, too. Or female, if you're female. You get used to it." Do you?

Myca looks sidelong at Drekyn for a moment, then back at Kae and Deinha. "Jess doesn't like boys," she mutters to them as quietly as possible. If it isn't the clearest answer in the world, at least it's short and easily communicated and doesn't require a soliloquy that WILL get her noticed and riprimanded again.

Deinha does *not* hear T'milla's hypothetical situation. Nah-uh. She's just blushing again because ... she is. That's all. At Drekyn's explanation, which *is* heard, Deinha promptly asks, "Oh. You mean.. if, say, I didn't want to..." She swallows, "sleep with the one who caught? I'd bring someone else in?" This isn't easy for her. And S'ara's tip isn't helping, either. "Wh.. ah.. oh..."

"Not proper," O'kano insists. "Not at all. It's a wonder there aren't more kids running around, what with all the..the..greens that're rising. But I don't have to take part in it. I won't. Not proper." Puo blanches a bit more at Myca's comments, and he snaps, "Maybe, but not all holdbred people are proper, either. That doesn't mean nothing." Uncomfortable, he peers towards T'milla and mutters out some response. "Eeh. Maybe for others'...not for Jharzeth." S'ara is just shot a shocked look; the lordling's going to be severely traumatized by the time this lesson's done.

T'milla glances at Deinha and smiles gently. "Actually, you need to plan it ahead of time.. Because once your Proddy and once your in that dragonlust.. You won't care." She says simply. "And you do get use to it.. Irioth hatched eight turns ago... "

Cor nods thoughtfully. "Well, I suppose there are worse people to share a bed with than another girl."

Deinha does have to answer T'milla now, doesn't she... "Ah... I guess so." She certainly cares right *now.* "Are you ... are you sure it's that bad? You couldn't be mistaken?" She genuinely can't see herself in dragonlust, the little innocent that she is.

"Of course." S'ara's not-so-hypothetical situation gets a nod. "Zat caught Jaeith. And Zat caught Irioth. But then, I'm not choosy - some folks are. In these cases, wine is your best friend. Drink 'till you squelch and drop dead - then, when you come 'round, /forget/ about it. It's the dragon's choice, or luck, or /something/, but it's not your fault." Cor is treated to a smouldering glare. "Let's not pass comments, weyrling," she says darkly. "If some poor greenrider wakes up to find /you/ in her cot - or his, as the case may be - don't expect a standing ovation."

Kaeralla sits and listens, keeping any comments she might have to herself as she glances between the other weyrlings, and the full ranking riders. Especially the full riders, they're the ones who've gone through this all before.

T'milla confides in Deinha. "I've woken up with some guy that made me sick.... But you just pick up your life and go on.. " She looks down at herself. "Though make sure you don't get grounded.."

"Feh. Dragons need--" R'ken pauses. He really, really could care less about O'kano's discomfort-- supposedly, he's a boy, and boys /get over/ these things-- but the fact that there's a blushing, stammering female party in the crowd. Aw, shucks. He's going to have to be tactful. "Yes, you could share a bed with a guy." That wouldn't be pointed at O'kano, oh not. "And in a sense, Deinha, yes it is 'that bad'. Probably less for female riders. Y'/always/ get caught-- barring unusual circumstances-- and you only put up with the whole proddy and rising thing so often, less often if you're a goldrider, whereas males get to chase anytime the dragon feels like it. Which goes to say-- anytime a female goes up. The whole thing is a fact of life as a dragonrider. Takes some getting used to, sometimes, but you do."

"What happens if you're grounded?" Kae just has to ask doesn't she? But then, it's always best to ask another greenrider about these things, right?

Drekyn aims another Look at R'ken. Not, however, that we've yet defined just /what/ kind of a look that is. "I've met people who claim the same thing about themselves," she observes, drily. A nod to Deinha, or at least in response to the answers directed to Deinha - "As a female rider, you'll get more warning. Not a lot more, in some cases, but /some/. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and Zat's already gone through his first wherry - it's not a nice feeling. Which brings us rather neatly onto the subject of blooding," she adds, perhaps more cheerfully than absolutely necessary. But she will wait for Kaeralla's question to be answered first.

Myca continues that silent watching, her features composed in an expression that ranges from slight amusement through appraising speculation to earnest listening, depending on whom she's looking at any given point.

Deinha licks her lips, thinking that over. Then, softly, she asks an undirected question: "So, it might be better because... because Sebayeth will be proddy first. And I will know, and be able to ... could *I* just hide? And leave Sebayeth to it?" She flicks at a wrinkle in her tunic, then adds, "I don't, ah, want to ... be involved. I don't." Sebayeth nudges Deinha in the back, and the girl smiles a bit shakily at her lifemate, leaning closer to scritch the gold's headknobs. She doesn't seem to notice that she's also interrupting Drekyn's schedule again.

T'milla decides proof is in the seeing. She removes her jacket, handing it to R'ken with a sweet smile. Taking the jacket reviels a bulging gut undernieth.. "Cause well.. You can't between.. And if a male causght you.. There is a chance well." She turns to show a profile of the belly. "But that's if the dragon's rider is male.. and it doesn't always happen." She offers with a smile. "Another part of the life of.. Then again." She glances at Drekyn.. "It could happen the other way around for a male greenrider and a female male dragon rider."

Myca can't help but laugh softly, rememberance twinkling bright in her eyes, when T'milla makes that final comment. She stifles the chuckle quickly and re-arranges her features into solemnity.

Kaeralla's eyes narrow slightly as she studies the other greenrider. "So if you're grounded, you might have a child?" the girl's gaze quickly flickers towards Drekyn, and then back to T'milla as she absorbs this new information.

T'milla nods a bit. "Yep.. I twisted my ankle pretty bad after the flight.. And now. Well.."

Drekyn winces, pulling her knees with some difficulty up to her chin. "It did," she agrees, reaching with one hand to tug T'milla's shirt down again. There's /males/ watching. "Drat," she says shortly. "I didn't have *betweening* duties, as an assistant weyrlingmaster, so I found out a while later. And after that, Zat wouldn't take me 'tween. 'Nough said - females, *between* every time. I don't care if it's not your time in the cycle, or you just think it hasn't happened - frankly, I doubted if K'iss was capable. *Between* or you /will/ regret it."

R'ken accepts the jacket, lifting both brows a bit. "But then, that doesn't even have to be caused by a flight, all things said. And if you need /that/ talk... Yes, well, babies don't always come about 'cause of, well--" Pause. Okay, he can say this. "Sex, so it all depends on luck, or lack of it, I guess." He does nod at Deinha, if a touch reluctantly, adding, "You can, theoretically. I tried doing that once, honest to Faranth, and I'll never be gladder Myth didn't catch. You can-- like Drekky said-- get yourself good and drunk on whine, but my suggestion is just trying to have someone with you, if you're going to do that. But like was said, you haven't always got the time to get away."

Myca looks sidelong at Puo as Drekyn speeks, watching for -his- reaction to this advice to female riders. "Unless one -wants- a child, of course," she notes. "Some women want children, after all, though it's hard to balance children with the duties of dragonriding, I've noticed."

T'milla settles herself on an empty cot, with a little sigh. "Yes.. And some choose to keep them... And if you do carry to trem.. Well, there's fostering.. Anyway..."

Huddled in a supposedly unobtrusive spot, O'kano firmly clamps his lips shut and doesn't offer any more protests on the vulgarity of it all. After all, his stance on the subject is probably well-known by now. Except for a single question. "We can't get away?" After a brief hesitation he answers it for himself, firmly intoning, "I'll do it, even if everyone else can't." Drekyn's mostly ignored as he figures it doesn't apply to him.

Cor winces, she's not particularly fond of the fostering option, has a lot to do with her own Turns in fosterage. *Betweening*, right.

"You're singing to the chorus, Myca," mutters Drekyn, wrapping her arms 'round her legs and resting her chin on her knees, heels balanced on the edge of the cot. "P'uke, if you can get away, I'm sure there'll be more than one femalerider that'll be grateful. /Now/. As for blooding - Zatmenith goes through a herdbeast and a wherry, or sometimes just two wherries. But he's a runt - most of you have dragons that'll want more blood than they can find in some dried-up wherry. If you want to win the flight, don't let them eat the meat - and femaleriders shouldn't /ever/. It weighs them down and makes for an even more unpleasant experience."

O'kano pipes up, "So if they eat meat, they won't fly high or win?" Hopeful, Puo even brightens a wee bit -- maybe there's a way out, after all. Drekyn's earlier statement goes ignored, save for rolled eyes and a muttered, "Hmph."

"But I don't want to be with anyone!" is the almost petulant whine from an upset Deinha, given R'ken's response. She promptly blushes again, and ducks her head. "I mean, I'm not entirely frigid, but ... it's just not how I was raised, and ... I don't want it to ... be like that. And, it's not like there's anyone I want to substitute; it's not just that I mind the fact that *anyone* could catch, either." Okay, so perhaps this was not something she really needed to admit in front of all her fellow weyrlings. All the same, it's been said now. And she's got to deal with that (and hope most were paying attention to someone else!). So it is that she rushes on, "I didn't want it to be like that for the sake of handfasting, just to please my parents, and I can't see why I'd want it to be so .. so .. base ... just because I've got a lifemate now..." Leaning against Sebayeth's side -- sagging, really -- she concludes, softly but impolitely, "I don't want to rut like some stupid herdbeast." Sebayeth, for her part, croons softly, confused, but pays divided attention to lifemate and Drekyn. << So I should never waste the blood in splurtings? >> Yes, picture that: a slash of talons across muddied brown throat, and a flowing spring of blood. << But how much blooding is best? How do I know when ... when it is time? >> Deinha sighs.

Cor ponders this. "It does seem a bit difficult, not to be able to choose," she says very quietly. "Especially if you haven't done it before."

"You'll have a tough time remembering to convince him /not/ to leave the meat, P'uke - once that flight begins, like it or not, you're just as determined to catch that green as your dragon." Drekyn actually seems a little smug when she relays /that/ bit of news. "Don't know much about what's best for the greens," admits the bluerider, with a faint shrug. "Or golds, for that matter. 'S why Milla's here." Besides the fact that Drekyn's sitting as close as she possibly can to T'milla without being in the greenrider's lap, of course.

Myca studies Deinha during that soliloquy, expression a mingling of mostly sympathy with some faint irritation. "Doesn't HAVE to be that way," she says softly. "It's a time of excitement for your dragon, or your firelizard. Firelizard flights are similar, after all, just not as emotional. Just... try to enjoy it. I'm looking forward to Eilanth rising, myself," she admits. "To experience the thrill of flying high and fast and dancing across the sky..." She shrugs and falls quiet again, apparently feeling the outsider here for the moment.

"Balance. Children. Dragonriding. Hard." R'ken, apparantly, agrees with Myca's statement, if a touch wistfully. Yes, well, /three/ Ken. "And no, O'kano," Ken patiently-- well, sorta patiently-- corrects the bronzeling. "It isn't saying it's impossible to escape. But honestly, it's a tad difficult. 'Specially when you're all caught up in dragon's emotions. Surely, /surely/ you've a libido hiding /somewhere/, for Faranth's sake? I don't suggest sleeping around, but flights aren't horrible. Well. Losing is, but the flights, and if you catch--" Brownrider waves a hand, before blinking at Deinha's statements. Well, long rant. "Well." Pause. Then lips twitch a touch wryly, before he notes, "I can appreciate that. Best thing is, if you're adament, to just lock yourself up. Lotsa wine. Drink yourself drunk. Somewhere safe, that isn't your weyr or the guest weyr, 'cause that's where the males'll flock. See about setting something up beforehand, mayhap." Poor Drekyn. Trying to lecture, and everyone's off in their little side grumbles.

"And seeing as greens always start rising before the queens do.." kae pauses to smile slightly at the goldrider. "So I've heard, anyways, wouldn't worry much about it at this stage of time, Deinha. Can't stop Ami from rising, so I might as well look forwards to it."

O'kano's surprisingly sympathetic as he listens to Deinha and even goes so far as to remark haltingly, "I know what you mean." Attention slides back to the blueriding assistant weyrlingmaster, then, and he makes a displeased face. "I think you're wrong," he declares. " You're not me." Obviously. "I think differently. I've different ideas of what's right -- and jumping from flight to flight certainly isn't. S'not at all proper." Myca is regarded with something akin to shock as he echoes, "You're looking forward to it?" The horrors; Puo's stuck with a half-crazy class, in his eyes. R'ken is eyed suspiciously. "Whatever."

<*Jharzeth*> Eilanth warbles amusedly. << Not that I can be caught unless I want to be caught. I'm much more nimble than you boys >> Emphasis on the -boys-, as if to underscore her scorn for malekind. to her neighboring dragons.

The look of shock on Puo's face is just too much for Myca and she bursts into merry giggles, falling over onto her bed to bury her face in the coverlett to muffle the noises, her shoulders shaking for the long moment it takes to regain her calm.

<*Jharzeth*> Jharzeth echoes Eilanth's amusement with his own rippling undertone, accented in slashes of vibrant, vivid crimson. << We'll see about that. >> to his neighboring dragons.

Deinha hasn't done it before. She casts Cor a brief, sad little glance before dragging her gaze to T'milla at Sebayeth's nudging. <<Pay attention. I may not remember. >> And that honest little comment evokes just the hint of a smile. Which lingers as she turns to Myca. "But that's just it, Myca. As much as flying may be exciting, I don't like the idea of sharing my body with just anyone." Pause. "Oh. Oh, Myca, I'm sorry. I don't think that came out right..." In face of this new embarassment, Deinha can only blink at R'ken's suggestion. Nerves have her laughing the next minute -- a bit tearfully. "But I don't like getting drunk, either!" Wonder which route she'd prefer, though... Deinha claps a hand over her mouth, trying to quell the overly bright giggles -- and that makes two weyrlings gone into giggling fits, though for entirely different reasons.

<*Jharzeth*> Amentith sniffs disadinfully at the other green's comment, all swirling verdant greens and desert tans, as brief dashes of golden red flicker acorss those oasis scenes. << We shall definately see, and /you/ will not be catching us. >> she retorts sharply to Jharzeth. to her neighboring dragons.

"You might've had fun playing stand-in for a little while, Myca," says Drekyn grimly, "but you were just /playing/. Remember that. You didn't have some great big hulking lizard stuck in your head while that was going on. It's very, very different. And if you think it's fun playing pass-the-parcel, seeing who ends up in your cot come morning - well, the mindhealers are out there off the north bowl. Good luck." A tad harsh, perhaps, but Drekyn's never liked flights, and she definitely doesn't like people liking flights. "If /you/ catch," says Drekyn coldly, eyeing R'ken, "you don't have to worry 'bout a thing, save whether the femalerider's got a knife anywhere about their person." So hah.

T'milla sighs a little listening. "Really.. If you take a bad attitude.. You'll get bad results. As for stopping it. My first flight.. IRioth had full control. It was hard to tell what was me and what was her. It'll be that way for all of you." She glances at Deinha. "As for blooding.. That's the most difficult part for the rider.. keeping your dragon from eating the meat.. But he, she will always know when they are ready.."

<*Jharzeth*> Sebayeth ripples saffron silkiness, the vague scent of sandalwood whisping about the corners of thought as she comments << I will look forward to this, even if mine is worried. >> The burnt ochre of linked sympathy is flicked away in a wash of purest, gilded rose as she continues << Yours, >> a note of spiraled green, taking both Amentith and Eilanth into account, << will be fast, beautiful, nubile. >> A pause. << Mine .. will be glorious and high and ... >> She fairly purrs the last << ..a challenge >> Not better, but different. Somehow. Jharzeth, she includes only in the last, curiosity-touched, question: << Are you a fast, agile, or strong? >> Offhand, she adds, in palest pink trembling << Or all of the above? >> to her neighboring dragons.

"No, but I've had small irritating lizards in my head while it was going on," Myca retorts. "It's just a matter of degree and I don't understand why you're all so intent on disliking something you can't possibly change." Myca falls quiet again, her opinion expressed. Her expression is a little rebellious, mouth set in a firm line to prevent herself from making additional comments.

Shock quickly sours as Puo divines the reason for Myca's laughter and tosses over an annoyed, angered glance. "It's not funny." This, more than anything, has confirmed the suspicion he harbored: she's another of those shell-cracked weyrfolk. Eyes unfocus briefly as O'kano listens to his lifemate; not bothering -- or simply too disturbed to take notice -- to keep his words silent, he snaps at Jharzeth, "No! I forbid it. Don't you dare even /think/ about chasing after 'em."

T'milla eyes Myca as she comments. "A little lizard in your head is but a flutter of vtols wing compared to the full blown, blinding experience of a dragon's mind overcoming all your senses.. Till you experience that yourself.. That in ability to control your actions.. To wake up next to someone you dislike.. Don't say a thing about firelizard flights being even remotly close.."

Deinha has finally brought herself under control, truly, and she nods respectfully at T'milla's comment about blooding. Then she catches O'kano's order and stage-whispers to Seb, "No, I forbid it. Don't you dare even /think/ about rising." Maybe she's not okay yet, after all...

"Puo, I'm sorry." R'ken is? "I know where you're coming from-- now I know what the 'ling-herders had to put up with when I was a weyrling." Pause. Fidgit. "Well, minus the attitude. I'm Holdborn, y'know. Blood? Well, I suppose. Grandson. Faranth knows, I was drug, kicking and screaming, over to Azov. Didn't want to Impress, heartily /feared/ flights when the idea was first popped into head. This is /not/ impinging upon your morals. Trust me. Flights're not /you/. S'what you do outside of flights that counts 'pon your honor, or however you see it. And /forbidding/ the poor lad from being a bronze dragon is not just plain cruel. It /may/ work-- might-- but it also won't be healthy for him. They chase, they rise. Comes along with being a dragon, 'kay? So get /over/ yourself." Ooh. A speech he gave! "And Deinha-- then don't go with wine, but it'll be hard enough with. Whichever is the lesser of the two evils in your eyes, but there's still /time/." If he looks a little worried over the laughing... well.

"Myca, /what/ did I say about your comments? Anything leap to the front of your mind? Hah - to the tip of your tongue, more likely," Drekyn says. Ooh, snippish blue. "Tell you what - if the other weyrlings need to go on ahead while you re-learn those little things we call /discipline/ and /respect/, that's dandy with me, but I /won't/ have you interrupting lessons this way." Okay, so it's more of a discussion than a lesson - but still. "If a person expects daisies, all they'll find is mud. If they expect mud and find a daisy, they'll be pleasantly surprised. Which would /you/ rather?" So there. /Very/ snippish bluerider.

"Overcoming our senses?" Deinha echoes T'milla, then looks at Sebayeth. "I think," she notes, "That I'm going to need a *lot* of wine." A quick glance to R'ken, eyes much steadier, as Deinha continues her little jokes. Some people deal with upset emotions by yelling, some by whining, some by breaking down, some by laughing. Deinha's still trying to figure out what works for her.

<*Jharzeth*> Jharzeth listens in with quite a bit of interest, waning dark, darker, darkest with each thought which crosses his way. Sebayeth is only answered after an adequate amount of pondering -- and disregarding whatever commands his lifemate tosses his way. Glibly, his pervasive mind-voice sweeps through the shadows as he formulates an answer. << Fast enough. Agile enough. Strong enough. >> to his neighboring dragons.

There's an outraged gleam in Myca's eyes as she's singled out for tongue-lashing and she looks significantly at Deinha and O'kano before turning her gaze back to Drekyn, mouth still set in that not-another-comment line. She clasps her hands together and rests them on the topmost knee of her crossed legs and puts on her best studiously listening face.

T'milla reachs out to pat Drekyn's leg gently to try to calm the blue rider. She comments in general. "Unfortunatly its the one downside.. For most people.. To being a rider.. but for this little thing.. look at all you have.. Look at this wonderful partner you have. The flights are the smallest flaw in a wonderful experience. "

Kaeralla takeing this all well... well as best as one could be, considering she's spent enough time in a Weyr. And before that, she was a stablehand... working with runners, getting a first hand account of runner breeding. She's a bit ashen at the thought of her dragon rising to mate, but she's taking it well. A glance towards the others and a slight shrug.

Sullenly, Puo sticks to his hard-set attitude and icily informs R'ken, "Maybe not for you. But it's still me, even if dragons're involved. Still me. And it's still my body. And I don't like it." O'kano is, at the least, far from over it. Meanwhile, another glare is slanted towards Myca, just because. "Yeah, that could be a downside," he sarcastically remarks after T'milla says her part.

"And none of your cheek, either," Drekyn adds, sternly. "I won't have you turning that /look/ on me, gel -" bluerider caught that gleam, oh yes "- and I /won't/ have you ignoring me. I asked you a question, weyrling." So there. Drekyn glances towards T'milla, and subsides into mere smouldering anger - it's an improvement, at least. "Something I've been meaning to ask you," she says quietly, to the greenrider. Perhaps it's time for someone else to take the reins. She leans a little closer to T'milla, whispering something.

<*Jharzeth*> Eilanth snorts derisively. << A baby, you are, >> she comments to the bronze, disregarding the fact he's exactly her age. << The male -I- choose can only be the best, and that isn't -you-. Tamlinth or Anceth, purrrrrhaps. Someone worthy of a gold. >> to her neighboring dragons.

<*Jharzeth*> Sebayeth erupts in a flurry -- yes, flurry -- of brightest white amusement, tones liquefying to something more amber in hue as Jharzeth's response is appreciated. << I *like* that. >> is the unneccesary reply, before she tilts interest to the greens again, << I would wait until you are being chased to pick a winner. Who cares for comments, if the pursuit is ... mmm ... worthy. >> A flicker of brown spins over, suggestive << Like Khanueth, perhaps? >> And then there is silence. At last, a deceptively lazy question: << Worthy of a gold, Eilanth? >> to her neighboring dragons.

T'milla offers O'kano a smile only a greenrider could pull off, sweet and nasty all at once. "We will see O'kano.." Is there menance in her voice? You bet. T'milla then smiles gently over at Drekyn and smirks. "Of course not." She leans closer to whisper something back.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," replies Myca. "Which question were you referring to, specifically? You asked several. You said that I should be quiet; and I prefer to look for daisies, myself, and risk the mud."

Deinha is being quiet. Ahh... that's the best refuge. O'kano, not surprisingly, is watched -- silently, yes -- for several moments, as he continues the argument. She sighs, then flicks her attention to Myca. Uh-oh.

"Hey, then /you/ have the option of trying to get out of it. Drining your woes in wine, locking yourself up somewhere, finding-- Faranth forbid-- someone wanting to curl up with you, that you won't consider to be taking a jab at your morals. The /only/ reason I'm hounding you is 'cause you seem intent on forbidding Jharzeth. I don't much care what you do with yourself." R'ken draws a breath, then nods gamely at Deinha. "Lotsa wine. But like has been said, you've time to wait. No reason getting yourself flustered just yet. Maybe you'll find someone who you're willing to snuggle up with 'tween now and then." Then there's a pause, in which he sends looks between Myca and Drekyn, and notes, "I'll be glad to send you both off to a corner, if it comes to that." Lovely.

"Oh." Drekyn looks crestfallen at-- whatever it is Milla said to her. "Not D'vry, then?" Shame. She darts a glance towards Myca. "Ma'am?" she repeats coldly, lifting a brow.

T'milla rolls her eyes towards the cieling about the D'vry comment and refuses to say anything else. She gives R'ken a bemused smile.

<*Jharzeth*> Jharzeth picks up on that very same fact, however, and shoots it right back at Eilanth. << No more so than you. At least I don't /act/ like one. >> The oft-veiled temper slips through, a little, and adds a razor-sharp edge. Catching himself and stuffing the red-tinged notes behind a curtain of purest ebon, his next phrase is deceptively mild. << Worthiness shouldn't be judged until it comes to the time when it's able to be proven. >> And Jharzeth, of course, means to prove it and lets his intent be known with a ripple of dark-tainted metallicy that could only relate to one dragon: him. to his neighboring dragons.

"Ma'am," echoes Myca in a sweetly reasonable voice, dredged from who-knows-where. "A title of respect for a female. Or so I was taught." She looks sidelong at R'ken. "She asked questions, sir. I was merely answering them, in order."

<*Jharzeth*> Khanueth projects << I am certain you will all fly well, and the one who catches you will be the best.>> There, said without saying -he's- the best. >> to his neighboring dragons.

<*Jharzeth*> Eilanth startles as she realizes what she said. << Only those worthy of a gold are worthy for me, >> she bravados. << And not all of -those- will I find worthy >> to her neighboring dragons.

"Well, why shouldn't I?" O'kano grumps back at the brownrider. Nevermind that he's already heard the talk about how it's bad for dragons and such. "I don't like your options. They're bad." Improper? "There's got to be others."

"You were /taught/, weyrling, that 'Ma'am' - or 'Sir'," adds Drekyn sharply, "is used if and /only/ if you do not know a person's correct title. Since you /all/ know how to read knots, there's absolutely no need for such a generic term." So there. R'ken gets another Look, but this one isn't nearly so friendly as the others. Not that the others were /friendly/, as such. "I was reminding the weyrling of her obligations," she says, a shade sulkily.

"Because-- though maybe I'm wrong-- I honestly don't think even /you/ would want to harm your dragon, O'kano. I couldn't do that to Myth, even if I don't savor flights." R'ken lifts brows a touch, before adding-- to Myca and Drekyn-- "What you're doing is snipping at each other. Stop it. There's corners galore, as I mentioned." At least he's fair? /Both/ of them.

Deinha speaks up, suddenly, "What about ... the morning after? I mean.. is there some standard etiquette? Or..." She blushes again, against her will, but finishes, "Or, are both riders still *there* the morning after? I mean, ahh... how long does it take?" It's a good thing Deinha still looks pretty when she blushes, because she's probably not going to stop for a while.

"Well, honestly," Drekyn grumbles, although this is half to herself. "The weyrling's acting worse'n a proddy 'lizard - she's acting worse'n /P'uke/, for Faranth's sake." Oh - speaking of proddiness. T'milla gets a little nudge. "Ready to give 'em the glowy talk?" Okay. So Drekyn's hazy on proddiness, too. Having a dragon who periodically tries to eat glows doesn't help much.

T'milla listens to O'kano and R'ken and shakes her head. She turns to the brown rider and says in a flippant manner. "R'ken pay no mind to the Little Lorder holder wanna be.. He still seems to think he has the ability and right to control anything and everything.. Let him find out the hard way.. I tire of listening to his gums flapping.." She looks out over the ones with female dragon. "Proddiness.. Ah. a touchy subject.. Something that differs for each person.."

"But...but..." O'kano stumbles for words and eventually fails. So he just contents himself to glumly sitting in his spot, grumbling rebelliously. Even he has to admit that he's not about to risk his lifemate's health, although he's tempted. Bristling some at Drekyn's remark, he snaps, "I've always acted better than her -- you're just set on making me out to be some horrible person." It's all Drekyn's fault.

"I don't /have/ to, P'uke," says Drekyn, flashing a smile of encouragement towards T'milla. "You do such a good job on your own. Milla, /I/ have a question about proddiness..." But Drekyn's too bashful - bashful? /her/? - to say it outloud, so she leans over once more to whisper it to the greenrider. Or maybe it's just an excuse to sit still closer to T'milla - who knows, with her?

"Depends," R'ken points out. "It takes until-- until--" Brownrider actually scratches his head at Deinha, and looks-- tortured. Gentlemen, being a dieing breed and all. Poor thing. "It takes until you've both had sex, okay, until it's /over/, so to speak." There. "Some fall asleep, some come to themselves shortly after and beat a retreat-- it depends on the people involved. There's no set etiquette." Then, brightly, "Do /you/ need a corner, too, Puo? I'll put you, Drekky, and Myca all three in there. I've got a paddle, too, somewhere." No, snickering at T'milla is a /bad/ thing, really. Snicker. Nonono. Oh, shucks.

T'milla clears her throat and says a little louder. "Proddiness." She glares at o'kano to be silent and then to Drekyn... "For each it can be different.. Just like a flight you can not control it.. But you do have a little bit of your wits about you. For me.. I get well.... I bed just about anyone.. Flirt and all. Now someone else might become the meanest person in the world.." She queits to listen to Drekyn..

Myca wrinkles her nose at O'kano's comment, and curls up against Eilanth's side to listen to T'milla, a look of tired resignation on her face.

Cor listens to T'milla intently. It may not apply to her, but it might be nice to know the signs, right?

A paddle? Ooh, that could be fun. Is Milla invite-- *ahem*. Drekyn has the decency to blush, and looks away. She looks as if she'd quite like to say something snappy (and snapp/ish/, knowing Drekyn), but can't think of anything, so has to settle for grumbling nastily under her breath.

T'milla gives Drekyn a level look. "I am not going to answer that Drekyn.. Not here." She says flattly before looking at the others. " Whatever the results.. You won't regret it till after the glow is gone. This is a time that your worse self shines through. I've seen greenriders that become paranoid and think everyone was trying to get them.. But all in all.. You'll remember every detail.. But at the time.. You won't care." She shrugs a little. "I dunno how to ease you all in the fact that it will happen and it will bring out that inner person."

Deinha's blush doesn't go down any at R'ken's explanation. "Ah. Okay." Sure, she really gets it. Mhmm. Her own voice skittering to a louder pitch, she pounces upon the new subject -- well, figuratively. "Proddiness! That lasts how long -- a few days? And, you're, what, cranky? Or ..." Her words trail off, sweet little mouth dropping open in a decidedly surprised, then dismayed, expression. "You do *what*, T'milla?!" Uh-oh. Deinha-fit, part II: handle with care!

T'milla glances at Deinha. "Bed anything that'll have me Deinha.. You heard me.. I'm not proud of it.. but it's a fact.. It's how she effects me when she glows." She offers a smile. "As for how long it lasts.. hard to say.. Days weeks.. candlemarks. Depends on your dragon and her mood."

And then there's Drekyn, who's never been proddy and /still/ thinks everyone's out to get her. Drekyn looks a bit disappointed at Milla's answer, or non-answer, to her question - "But they might need to /know/," she says, a bit petulantly. "I mean, what if they accidentally locked themselves in the privies and no-one came to /rescue/ them? What then?" Yeah. Sure. "'Least I have signs to watch for, most of the time," she offers, to the room at large. "There's a certain section of Milla's clothespress that doesn't get touched outside of proddy days." That and private moments. "She /used/ to bed anything that'd have her, at least," adds the bluerider, a little bit smugly. Now it's just anything that's determined enough to get past Drekyn's guard.

Deinha leans back against Sebayeth again, eyes squeezed shut. "Candlemarks, please... just candlemarks. How much trouble can a girl get into in a few candlemarks, anyway?" At that, her eyes crack open, blue homing on on R'ken. Well. That question has yet to be answered in terms she can feel entirely comfortable with.

T'milla glances at Drekyn, but doesn't say much.. She's gotten around the bluerider before. "Yes.. well.. true.. And No.. they don't need to know that.. And you don't either Drekky." She gives the bluerider a warning look." She looks at the others. "Questions?"

"No." O'kano's response comes quickly, crisply. He's heard enough, thank you very much, and doesn't like the idea of sitting through more.

For all that Deinha would not normally appreciate being 'in the know' on Drekyn's addition, she does cast a weary smile at the AWLM at that. Hope springs eternal. "So, even if that were the case, and it made m..a person ... bed everyone in sight," cue the blushing again, " then a ... substitute ... of sorts might be useful?"

T'milla smiles and nods at Deinha's question. "Right, Deinha.. Someone you trust, and Faranth forbid, don't mind having a kid with.. /IF/ it happens."

"Yes, I /do/," says Drekyn firmly. "I mean, otherwise, what'm I going to /do/ with all that lumber the drudges're bringing up today? Cost me m'last mark, too," she adds. "I mean, the extension wasn't cheap to begin with, and if'n I don't know what I'm going to /do/ with it all... C'mon, Milla. Remember? You're the one always going on about honesty. I mean, I /thought/ you were." That's right. Twist the knife, Drekyn.

Deinha gulps at that. There's that mention of a kid again. And, retreating, she turns silent again -- simply looking at Sebayeth and little else. It's still tough.

R'ken can't help it. He's a /male/. 'Delicate' and 'tactful' doesn't come easily. But he does mostly shush as T'milla speaks, but for the absent, "Oh, just shut /up/ Puo--" as he's /tried/, already, with the bronzeling-- "but yeah, a subsitute would probably be nice, or just someone to keep an eye on you when you're proddy? Maybe?" Anywho. To Drekyn, gamely, "If she says they don't need to know, they probably don't. Shush it." Oh, he's /rude/.

T'milla looks at Drekyn and grits her teeth. "But locking me away is /not/ the answer Drekyn.. Alright..This is not something I wish to discuss infront of them.. all-RIGHT?"

Drekyn cringes, though whether it's from T'milla's words or R'ken's is anyone's guess. But whatever it was sure made her quiet - she even goes so far as to edge a little bit away from T'milla, still hugging her knees. Mope.
 

T'milla gets up after the lecture is done and offers Drekyn a level look, before snatching the jacket out of R'ken's hands and striding out.

Drekyn straightens abruptly out of her slump as T'milla storms away, looking as though she'd been slapped. Well, looking like any /normal/ person would if they'd been slapped. Drekyn would probably slap back. "Milla?" she ventures, once the greenrider has long gone. Talk about delayed reaction. Eyes narrow as she flicks another of those Looks towards R'ken. "You /did/ it again," she snaps, getting to her own feet and following T'milla out.