The World of Pern(tm) is copyright to Anne McCaffrey (c) l967.
The Dragonriders of Pern(r) is a registered copyright.

This is a log of roleplay on PernMUSH, available online by permission of
Anne McCaffrey, author of the Pern novels, and recorded by A.S. Korra'ti
(piper@murkworks.net), player of Mehlani of Telgar Weyr on PernMUSH.
This log may be distributed freely as long as this header remains intact.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Log Date:
	1/25/98

Log Cast:
	(People) Kassima, Sionelle, Richenda, Kindre, Kassima, Willow, 
Alnar, Miryenne (NPC), Mehlani, V'dan (NPC), Emlyn, Maylia, J'lyn, Ro

	(Firelizards) Akadi

Log Intro:
	'Tis the season to be proddy, fa la la la la, la la la la...
	Or something like that. At any rate, Milleniuth, the green lifemate
of Kassima's charismatic young cousin E'rian, is decidedly proddy. And this
has resulted in a most dramatic milestone in the life of the young lass
E'rian, along with his older brother K'star, have been courting in Telgar
Weyr as of late: Mehlani has received her very first kiss courtesy of green
Milleniuth's rider.
	However, as it happened, E'rian's dramatic display of affections, which
proved that when he gets proddy he gets proddy beyond a shadow of a doubt,
had a witness. That witness, as it happens, is a green rider as well. Whose
dragon, as it happens, is also proddy. And who has been rapturously inspired
by E'rian's gestures of worshipful admiration to the girl of his dreams, and
who, as it happens, now hopes to do something along those same lines for the
girl _he_ adores.
	As it happens, though, in this particular case the object of V'dan's
affections has even less warning about his intentions than Mehlani did of
E'rian's....

----------
You walk past the lintel and into the wide living cavern.

Sionelle walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.
Sionelle has left.

"Take care of yourself, Kindre my dear," Richenda replies wearily. "And 
  do remember, please, to have something more substantial than a muffin 
  later?"

Kindre chuckles, "Kassima! You arrive just as I'm about to leave. Our 
  timing is poor these days." Rolling her eyes like a youngster to its 
  mother pushing a sweater on him or her, she grins at Richenda. "I 
  will, I promise," she says before moving out to the bowl.
Kindre walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.
Kindre has left.

"I am never doing that again," are Kassi's first words as she troops 
  through the cavern, that bizarre red flag-thing still tied to her head 
  and the ends fluttering over her shoulders. "Nay if'n the skies and 
  the seas would swallow me up if'n I didn't. The *only* blessed mercy 
  is that V'dan didn't come along this time. Remind me t'thank Chymeth 
  for being proddy at a good time for once, eh? Oh, and g'deve and stuff, 
  too... Kin! 'Twill see you later, then--oh, blast. Foo, foo, foo."

Richenda calls after Kindre, "Your promises are like whipped cream: sweet 
  and without substance. I'll find you later!!!"

Willow takes up her glass of cider and moves to a chair more out of the 
  way. Away from attention.

Alnar peers at Kassi, "Why do you have a hankie on your head?"

Richenda turns toward Willow, looks her up and down, and inquires brightly, 
  "You're new here, so who are you? I'm Richenda, by the way. Assistant 
  headwoman and she who heals dragons."

Kassima blinks, and peers up at her headband. She can't see it, of course, 
  but that doesn't prevent her from trying to see the top of her head 
  nonetheless. "Oh, this isn't a hankie," she assures him. "'Tis an 
  honorable trophy of valiant warfare. Though I'll have t'work on getting 
  the blueberry stains out of it, I imagine."

Alnar stares, still puzzled, "Pardon?"

Willow turns to Richenda, stopped again on her way to a chair. "I'm Willow, 
  Assistant Headwoman Richenda. I've lived here several turns now. As I've 
  explained to Kindre."

Richenda's eyes narrow significantly. "You have? Have you now? You have? 
  Indeed you have? Have you really? Honestly you have? Good gracious and 
  Cousin Carry's corset."

Willow seems abit timid after the rush of words. "Yes, Ma'am. My parents 
  work the small fields and where ever they can farm around the weyr. I'm 
  not one for the living cavern. Or atleast not till recently."

Kassima explains breezily as she collapses into her chair in something of a 
  sprawl, "'Tis the flag we stole from Mart's team in dragon-tag, back at 
  the festival. Which was lovely, by the by. 'Twas the six-day round trip I 
  could've done without. Nay that I have aught against Ofira, Ceria, Girad, 
  or even Simaeva or Ylysse, but six days straight travelling with *any* 
  people would make me go insane. If'n," she amends, "'twere nay already 
  too late. Which it is, in my case. Bleah. Have I mentioned how much I 
  abhor meatrolls now?"

Illumination floods Richenda's expression. "Good, good," she cheers, "as I 
  rather hate the idea of not knowing someone for whom I should care. What 
  did you say brings you into the chilly confines of our hearth-lit cavern, 
  hmm?"

Alnar listens to Kassi carefully, mostly following, "Why didnt you just go 
  between?"

Willow says "My mom. She sort of wants me to meet people more."

Richenda hmmms, then asks, "Well, were you intending to hover about here at 
  Telgar, or what? Wash dishes and clean clothes and sweep up? All of that?"

Kassima is only too willing to natter on about her trip to a fresh audience, 
  so natter she does. "Ofira and Ceria are both expecting, y'see, and Ofira 
  needed an escort so that she could attend Baker matters while she was 
  there. Perfectly legitimate, and 'twas glad t'provide the service, but... 
  aigh. The entire end of the Festival was a mess. I think those berry 
  preserves brought me bad luck, truth be told."

Richenda's eyebrow shoots up. "Ceria's expecting??? By WHOM, might I ask?"

Kassima starts a bit from her sprawl at Richenda's exclamation, one end of 
  the scarf trailing over her eye. "Eh? Oh, you'd nay heard? Her weyrmate, 
  D'thon--or so I'd imagine; I didn't ask her, a'course, but that's how rumor 
  would paint it."

Richenda rests her forehead on the table. "I am," she mutters, "too old to 
  keep up with all of you youngsters."

Alnar nods as accepting as any weyr-brat of the news of more younguns, "How 
  can preserves bring bad luck?"

Willow says "Well I was going to do Farming, but I guess it would be better 
  if I maybe helped in the kitchen to keep me around more. I'll talk to my 
  mother about that."

Richenda shakes her head to Willow, though the head's still on the table. 
  "If you're here, you'll work for Siani and me, not for your mother. Is 
  that all right with you?"

Willow says "Well my family lives here to. But I understand."

Kassima beams cheerfully at Richenda. "Oh, drink enough of the Water, and 
  I'm certain you can catch up. Or even out-spawn us all, save mayhaps for 
  M'kla. Or F'hlan; had you heard that he's t'be a father again? Just four 
  more spawnlings from him, and I win m'wager!" Turning to Alnar, she 
  immediately starts ticking things off on her fingers. "I lost the flight 
  betting pool, I didn't get t'fleece Mart at poker, I had t'sleep on the 
  ledge since I wasn't *about* t'go wandering into Nie's weyr when Kemith 
  and Nraith had lost, I didn't get much sleep because I kept having 
  nightmares about 'Lex and the Dance of the Scarves... need I say more?"

Alnar looks puzzled still, "But how did the preserves do all that!?"

Richenda excuses herself, returning moments later with a knot that has the 
  black and white of Telgar and the pattern of a resident. "Here, wear 
  this. And speak to Rennick about your duties as well, or he'll have my 
  arse. Not that he doesn't already."

Kassima adds morosely, "Plus, Kaylira *insisted* on singing 'One-Hundred 
  Blueriders Out On the Ledge' *all the way home*. And Ylysse just *had* 
  t'join in with the greenrider version, but I couldn't stop t'whap her 
  silly since we were mid-air and all. Bad things just started t'happen 
  after I made those preserves. What other explanation could there be?"

Alnar considers, "You had a bad day?"

Kassima holds up three fingers and waggles them. "Three! I had three. Nay 
  *bad*, precisely, but... weird. Aye. Weird's a good word for 'em. That 
  last night a'fore the trip was the worst, though. You can't imagine the 
  horror until you try and picture A'lex dancing the Dance of the Scarves. 
  Then you'll understand."

Alnar shakes his head, "I dont know what the dance of the scarves is."

Kassima nibbles her lip, considering how best to explain. "Well, I'm nay 
  about t'dance it in front of a 'Cavern full of people. Miryenne!" she 
  yells over to a wingmate. The auburn-haired woman looks up just in time 
  to catch the red flag that Kassi has tossed to her. "Show him the Dance 
  of the Scarves, would you? Y'know, like Marinda and her Dancing Veils?"

Richenda leaves the knot near Willow and says, "I'll be getting back to the 
  laundry. Clear skies, all!"
Richenda goes home.
Richenda has left.

Alnar watches, young eyes open wide and curious.

Miryenne, who has remarkably less shame in her soul than Kassi, takes the 
  scarf and climbs to her feet. Holding it in front of her face, the 
  bluerider starts to sway, swinging her hips and sashaying around the table. 
  Some of her male wingmates start to applaud, but she pays them no notice--
  though she does wink to one appreciative-looking lady brownrider on the 
  edge of the crowd. "That," Kassi explains sagely, "is the Dance of the 
  Scarves. I think you can see why m'nightmares were so horrific now."

Alnar doesnt seem to understand the appeal, given another 5 turns and things 
  might be different, "It looks kinda silly."

"It makes an effective bargaining ploy, though," Kassi remarks, catching 
  the scarf when Miryenne tosses it to her and tying it back around her head 
  with a flourish. "You just threaten whomever you're bargaining with t'have 
  a man--it works better that way--dance this dance for 'em. They're nay 
  silly. They know such a sight would scare off all their customers. We 
  persuaded a Weaver t'loan us three scavenger-hunt items that way."

Alnar shrugs, "Okay." he finally accepts, still baffled.

Kassima chuckles and adds, "Besides, the expression on 'Lex's face when I 
  promised the Weaver he'd do that in return...! Well, 'twas worth the 
  nightmares. Barely. Did you attend the Festival, Alnar?"

Willow moves out of the room quietly.

Alnar shakes his head to Kassi, "I was bad, so I couldnt go."

Willow walks off towards the kitchen.
Willow has left.

Kassima quirks up both eyebrows, leaning back again in her chair and toying
  absently with her braid. "You were bad? What'd you do?"

Mehlani walks here from the Inner Cavern.
Mehlani has arrived.

Alnar mumbles something entirely too soft to hear.

It is with a bemused and wary gaze that Mehlani creeps into the cavern, 
  glancing about her before she fully enters; when she catches sight of no 
  one but Kassima and Alnar in immediate view, the girl looks distinctly 
  relieved.

Kassima cups one hand around her ear. "What was that, lad? Couldn't hear 
  you... g'deve, Mehlani," she calls over to the hatted girl.

Alnar sighs and replies louder, "I put a hopper in Nikki's cot."

Mehlani bobs her head slowly to Kassima in greeting. Having established the 
  general safety level of the cavern, she comes on in readily enough, heading 
  for the klah.

There's a blinking of dark green eyes at that, followed by a chuckle. "Bet 
  she screamed loud enough t'wake the dead," Kassima comments amusedly. "At 
  least 'twould nay have been so frightening as a bug or the like, though, I'd 
  think... well, 'tis sorry I am you had t'miss the festival. Mehlani, are 
  you looking for someone?"

At the klah, Mehlani promptly and rapidly shakes her head.

Alnar nods, "Balin wanted to put a tunnelsnake, but we thought we'd both get 
  whipped for that one."

Kassima grimaces at Alnar. "Aye, and rightly so. Hoppers are harmless, but 
  if'n you'd put a 'snake in hers, she'd likely put a 'snake back in yours, 
  and 'twould like as nay try and bite your toes off or some such thing. 
  *Then* where would you be?" To Mehlani, she gives a thoughtful nod. "If'n 
  y'say so. I only asked because you look a bit nervous about something." 
  Implied in her tone is her curiousity about just what that something is.

Alnar grins to Kassi, "Naw, Nikki's too scar'd of snakes to get back at us."

There's a beat or two, as Mehlani carries her klah to a nearby chair and 
  sinks down to sit upon it, still occasionally glancing left and right, as 
  if expecting... something... to creep up on her. Reluctantly, she bobs her 
  head to Kassima.

Kassima points out, "But she *could* form an alliance with someone who wasn't 
  afraid, and take up a vendetta against you. Vendettas can be frightening 
  things. Why, because of them, men have ended up being dressed as women and 
  chased around beaches with knives!" She speaks with the certainty of 
  personal experience about those last two. Tilting her head, she wonders of 
  Mehlani, "Has someone been bothering you, lass? If'n 'tis so, I'm certain 
  Kiat will have 'em flayed soles to skull when he hears."

"Oh no... no one's... bothering me," Mehlani mumbles. _Well, not exactly..._ 
  And she gulps down a mouthful of her klah.

Alnar turns his curious eyes to Mehlani.

"Did something bad happen at the Weyr while 'twas gone, then?" asks Kassima 
  next, sounding concerned. "Richenda didn't say aught, nor Kindre, but I only 
  spoke with them for a moment...."

Again, Mehlani rapidly shakes her head.

Kassima exhales in a nearly-silent sigh, by now thorougly confused. "So, what's 
  the problem?"

Mehlani pauses, her klah mug held in tightly gripping slender hands, and 
  casts another look left, another look right. Then she leans towards 
  Kassima, and blurts softly, "Milleniuth is..." Beat. Beat. "... proddy."

Blink. Blinkblink. "Oh," Kassima replies at first, intelligently. Followed 
  by a more understanding, "Oh! About time, I should say. She's waited long 
  enough about it." A pause. "Has Eyr been upsetting you, then?" She knows 
  her cousin well, you see.

Alnar leans in to whisper to Kassi, "Who's Millier-whoever?"

"Oh, no! No... he... uh..." Mehlani trails off, and turns deeply crimson, 
  shrinking down a little in her seat.

Kassima murmurs to Alnar, "Milleniuth's the green of m'cousin, E'rian." To 
  Mehlani, she just makes a face. "I take it he's been making a fool of 
  himself, then. Well, it runs in the family--though Thera escaped most of 
  it. Those two! That explains why Kes was so insistant about staying at the 
  Festival, though, even after that business with Elisanth." She chuckles 
  under her breath. "Poor Kes. Did Eyr do aught I should be prepared t'try 
  and convince the Weyrleader he shouldn't be killed for?"

"He... um... gave me... flowers... and, uh..." Mehlani is blushing even more 
  vividly now, and her voice gets progressively softer with each word she 
  utters. "... another gift, and... he, um... sang... and, uh, k--" Blink, 
  then. Her eyes widen. "K-kes?" Alarm flickers in her face.

Kassima whistles lowly. "Faranth, the lad sounds about as bad as V'dan... 
  and *that* is saying a lot. At least he didn't do aught t'harm you, did 
  he?" Leaning one elbow against an armrest, she nods, the ends of her 
  scarf bobbing. "Aye. There was," she sighs, "a goldflight, while we were 
  at the 'Reaches... one I lost a wager on, I might add. Indyth lost, 
  Belaryth won, and Kes got staggeringly drunk--but absolutely refused t'go 
  home. Now I see why."

Her klah forgotten, even as the mug remains silently steaming in her grasp, 
  Mehlani stares anxiously at Kassima as she recounts events at High Reaches 
  Weyr. Shy though the lass might be, she immediately comprehends the 
  meanings behind "a goldflight," and she asks plaintively, "Please... is 
  K'star alright now?" She has, it seems, also completely forgotten E'rian's 
  recent activities, or at least that they were the subject of conversation 
  half a minute ago.

"I think so," is Kassima's reply to Mehlani's concerned inquiry. "I just got 
  back from the 'Reaches m'self, and haven't checked in with him yet, but 
  Indyth assured Lysseth that all's well. His hangover was so terrible the 
  next morning that he had t'stay on an extra day, poor lad! He didn't trust 
  his ability t'go *between* with that headache. I suspect his Wingleader 
  probably understood."

Speak of the tunnelsnake, and he appears... well, sort of. If V'dan, green 
  rider of Chymeth, can in the slightest be compared to a tunnelsnake, and 
  the stumbling course he follows into the living cavern can really be termed 
  'appearing'. His arrival is doubtless hindered by the fact that he is 
  carrying a completely disarrayed bouquet of flowers in one hand, and of 
  all things, a _drum_ in the other; as he stumbles in, he sends flower petals 
  flying in all directions. But he doesn't seem to notice. V'dan bellows out 
  ecstatically at the top of his lungs, "MY LADY!"

And at the bellow, Mehlani abruptly jerks, her gaze snapping up and away from 
  Kassima towards the exit into the Bowl. She is only marginally relieved to 
  discover that it is V'dan and not E'rian who's making his entrance, but once 
  this is established, she just... stares.

Oh, no. Oh, *no*. A flash of absolute, desperate panic--*not* an expression 
  commonly seen on Kassi's face--is nonetheless seen in the greenrider's eyes 
  at the entrance of her perpetual lackey. "You didn't tell me *he* was still 
  proddy!" she yelps, already shrinking back into her chair and trying to hide. 
  It may be a futile attempt, but her survival instinct demands it. Maybe, 
  just maybe, he wasn't bellowing at her. Right. And bovines fly.

V'dan, however, seems to miss Mehlani entirely. His dark hazel gaze latches 
  immediately onto Kassima, and he attempts to dash in love and adoration 
  straight across the cavern to join Lysseth's rider. He manages, en route, to 
  trip and send himself flying headlong at Kassi rather than run, and with a 
  resounding *CRASH* of his drum, he falls in a sprawl of instrument and 
  scattered blooms at the front of her chair. But, undaunted, he scrambles up
   -- he was going to kneel anyway, so this only serves his purpose -- and he 
  hastily fishes into his pocket, pulling out a much-abused hide. Consulting 
  said hide, he pulls in a breath and proclaims, "Densest lady whose repast 
  is all the fright of my shattered existence, at last I have found you!"

Kassima's chair is fortunately turned so that it isn't facing the table, since 
  she shifted it to make conversing easier, or the serving folk would likely 
  not be very pleased with V'dan right now. Unfortunately for Kassi, that 
  distraction isn't available. Spitting out a flower petal that landed in her 
  gaping mouth, she stares down at the greenrider like a deer who's facing a 
  pair of ultra-bright (not that ultra-bright is a good adjective for V'dan) 
  headlights. "*Densest* lady?" she has to repeat, too stunned to run as she 
  quite probably should. She's indubitably paralyzed by the horror of it all.

Akadi glides in from the bowl.
Akadi has arrived.
Akadi flits in quietly, finding a perch.

Mehlani just... _stares_ at V'dan, finding this uncannily familiar, even if 
  deeply twisted and strange. As Chymeth's rider is not in the slightest 
  focused on _her_, she starts inching her chair very, very cautiously out 
  of the way.

V'dan, in the meantime, blinketyblinks, glancing at his notes, and thinking, 
  _That didn't come out right..._ But no matter! He starts scrambling to 
  gather up the profusion of crumpled blossoms and starts presenting them to 
  Kassima, handful after handful, flinging them into her lap adoringly. And 
  while he does, he gushes, glancing at his equally crumpled hide every so 
  often, "Fearest of the Fear, please partake of the effusion of my presence 
  at your grateful self--" He squints at the hide, and discovers to his 
  dismay that he can't read any of the next line at all. Time to ad lib! 
  "--but I really really really had to bring you these, to welcome you 
  back!"

Emlyn walks in from the bowl.
Emlyn has arrived.

Imagine, for a moment, how a woman might look if presented with a giant, 
  deformed spinner, drooling poison, with an axe in each hand and Loathesome 
  Things squirming all over its body. That look doesn't hold a candle to 
  the disbelieving and rather shocked horror in Kassi's expression. Dear 
  Faranth, what will happen when the others hear about this...? Several of 
  her wingmates are already snickering quite loudly. With a sneeze as the 
  flowers are suddenly heaped upon her person, she manages to squeak, "Um, 
  thank you?" Will that be enough to make him go away? A girl can always 
  dream.

Maylia walks in from the bowl.
Maylia has arrived.

Emlyn passes through the entry, returning greetings with her usual cheerful 
  smile. She secures herself a mug of cider.

Elated, Chymeth's disheveled and petal-bedecked rider lights up. She THANKED 
  him! Time for the song! He scrambles again, this time to fetch the drum, 
  and as best he can manage, he kneels with it, at Kassima's feet. And he 
  rhapsodizes, "Chymeth helped me write a song to honor your return, most 
  mischievous lady...!"

Kassima catches sight of the entering greenriders out of the corner of her 
  eye, but she can't seem to break out of her trance of horror enough to 
  wave. Maylia is, however, shot a look that's a cross between 'Save me!' 
  and 'Run away! Run away!' Even pleas for existance are forgotten, though, 
  at Those Words from the greenrider. "Write. A. Song?" she repeats. "You... 
  wrote me a song?" The horror... the horror...!

Maylia ambles in, headed straight for the klah pots, as usual. Only, this 
  time she appears like she really could use some klah. Chymeth's rider, 
  kneeling before Kassi, gets blinked at. Hallucinating? With a shrug, she 
  continues.

V'dan bobbobbobs his head with such enthusiasm that he looks to be about 
  to snap his own neck. "It's not _nearly_ as good as E'rian's for Mehlani 
  was, I mean, he's your cousin and he is therefore almost as Perfect as you, 
  but I couldn't help but take inspiration from him...!"

Mehlani, creeping out of the way, immediately turns scarlet at V'dan's 
  gushing, never mind that he's not even gushing at her. Uh, nobody heard 
  that, did they?

Maylia, mug in hand, flops into a seat. And blinks again. She isn't 
  hallucinating. That's V'dan, before Kassi, kneeling and proposing to sing. 
  With a drum. She shakes her head, indicating as best she can that there 
  is no way she could possibly save her mentor from this. So she sits back 
  to watch, and sip her klah.

Emlyn is pausing by the drinks table. She murmurs to Maylia, "Thank Faranth, 
  Pleiath's mating urges never have -that- impact on me." Sure, unending 
  tears, incomprehensible fury, unquenchable friskiness. But no poetry.

And with that, V'dan hoists the drum up to prop it on one knee, perhaps 
  mercifully obscuring his adulation-suffused features and the scattering 
  of flower petals that has managed to get into his unruly hair. "Please 
  favor me with just a moment of your time," he begs, and with that, he sucks 
  in a breath, and lets it out, beginning to sing, "My KASSI went off to High 
  Reaches" -- *WHAM!* He bangs a hand on the drum. "My KASSI flew off across 
  Pern--"

Kassima actually looks hopeful for a moment as V'dan's neck appears to be 
  near snapping. But, no luck. Sharditall. "E'rian's for Mehlani?" she 
  repeats numbly, stealing a glance towards Mehlani. "Inspiration? 
  *Perfect*? Me? I--" But she doesn't get a chance to finish. The 
  flower-petals in her lap shake with the full force of the drumbeats, to 
  say nothing of her yelled name, and the greenrider is once again 
  paralyzed by the full *bizarrity* of it all.

Maylia jumps as V'dan strikes the drum, sloshing hot klah over her hand. 
  She's awake now. Really. Any answer she would've given Emlyn is drowned 
  out by the... ah... singing.

*WHAM!* "Oh, LYSSETH, please bring back my Kassi--" *WHAM!* "'Cause for my 
  sweet Kassi I burn!" *WHAM WHAM WHAM!* V'dan, apparently utterly oblivious 
  to the din he's making, bellows out his... song at the top of his lungs, 
  his voice cracking a little on the highest notes.

Emlyn takes a seat beside her wingmate, Maylia, and simply watches the show. 
  She sips her wine and blinks with surprise at the single drumbeats, but 
  soon is used to them and merely nods as V'dan 'sings'.

Akadi looks at V'dan with what only could be described as an aghast 
  expression, even on a firelizard.

Kassima slowly covers her eyes with her hands, repeating over and over 
  again--inaudible, of course, over the 'singing'--"This can't be happening. 
  This can't be happening. This can't be happening." That mantra seems to be 
  her talisman against the humiliation of it all, though it doesn't work all 
  that well if what can be seen of her flaming face is any indication.

Maylia carefully mops up her spilled klah, leaning close to Emlyn. "If I 
  -ever- start doing that, lock me up in my weyr? Please?" she begs. She 
  cringes at the shrill, cracking high notes, but is otherwise looking rather 
  stunned.

Akadi ducks her head under a wing.

Emlyn answers Maylia, "I promise." After a pause to allow a drum solo to die 
  down, she asks her companion, "How soon until Tierth feels the urge again?"

"Bring back" -- *WHAM!* -- "Bring back" -- *WHAM!* -- "Oh bring back my Kassi 
  to me, to meeeeee!" V'dan bangs away delightedly on his drum, looking 
  suspiciously like a three-Turn-old who's discovered a toy, and for that 
  matter, playing with about as much coordination, as a few of his drumbeats 
  aren't even in time with what can only be loosely labelled his singing. 
  "Bring back" -- *WHAM!* -- "Bring baaaaaaack" -- *WHAM! -- "Ohhhhhh bring 
  back my Kassi to me!" *WHAM WHAM WHAM!*

Maylia thinks a moment, and then a moment longer as the racket makes it nearly 
  impossible to do so. "Ah, several sevendays, I believe." Wince. "Hopefully 
  longer. And Pleiath?"

"V'dan! V'DAN!" Kassi yells, finally snapped out of her trance by the sheer 
  loudness of the drumbeats. Her hands are, in fact, clapped over her ears. A 
  shame even that won't block the skull-rattling noise. "That's very kind of 
  you! Thank you!" she adds, trying to be heard over the last few notes in 
  order to forestall--horror of horrors--a repetition of this chorus. She's 
  approximately the color of an apple at this point; if V'dan keeps it up, 
  one might just see whether it's possible for a person to blush all the way 
  to purple.

There is a noticeable exodus from the living cavern as V'dan continues his 
  serenade. Emlyn remains. She answers Maylia, "Soon, I should think. She's 
  about as predictable as Fall, and I've finally gotten to the point where I 
  can tell when she's having an impact on my moods." Another pause, followed 
  by, "Not that I'm able to break out of her influence, but at least I know 
  -why- I'm behaving oddly." As Kassi tries to break in on the song, Emlyn 
  raises her mug up to drink.

And with that, V'dan, blissfully unaware of the way he's set several pairs of 
  ears ringing, shuts up. But only to shoot gawkily to his feet, his gaze 
  hooting outside for a moment, before he returns his rapturous gaze to 
  Lysseth's rider. "E'rian did it _much_ better," he babbles, "but I've only 
  had a few days to practice, I hope that'll be okay... oh!" He scrambles for 
  his hide again, consults his notes -- the man actually took _NOTES_ -- and 
  gets an expression positively incandescent with joy at whatever he reads 
  next. Uh oh.

Mehlani, by now, has reverted to an old habit of her childhood: she's hiding 
  under a table.

Maylia holds her breath, hopefull not only for Kassi's sake but also for her 
  own ears', that V'dan's finished. And exhales in a sight of relief. It's 
  over. She stifles a laugh, leaning over to quietly inform her wingmate, 
  "Actually, E'rian's was quite good. Helped that he can sing, too."

"Aye," Kassi agrees weakly, removing her ears from her hands with a wary 
  expression. She's clearly unsure whether or not it's safe to do so, and 
  little wonder. "A few days," she repeats slowly. "A few days. Um. Aye. 
  That's perfectly all right, V'dan. 'Twill *more* than suffice, believe you 
  me." She eyes him distrustfully as he starts glowing even brighter than his 
  Chymeth.

Akadi slowly brings her head back out from under her wing, giving the loud 
  human a suspicious look. She preens the wing then leaps from her perch...
  obviously getting out while the getting is good.
Akadi flits through the short tunnel and out into the bowl.
Akadi has left.

J'lyn walks in from the bowl.
J'lyn has arrived.

"Thank you, oh, THANK YOU," V'dan gushes, his eyes radiant. _Now_ is the 
  time! He leans forward, with surprising swiftness -- the same sort of 
  swiftness he and his lifemate, against all reason and logic, manage to 
  fight Thread and go entirely unscored, each and every single Fall -- and 
  bestows upon Kassima a heartfelt, lingering, and rather sloppy smooch.

J'lyn wanders in and quirks an eyebrow at V'dan.

Emlyn grins as V'dan plants a wet one on Kassima. She turns slightly to wink 
  at Maylia. Seeing J'lyn, she lifts a hand in greeting. "Are you a music 
  lover, J'lyn?"

J'lyn nods a little leerily at Emlyn. "I try to be. Why? What am I getting 
  myself into?"

Maylia just stares, amazed. She is about to see Kassi do something horrible. 
  She just knows it.

Absolutely, positively no way Mehlani is coming out from under that table yet. 
  Not when the cavern is full of green riders. At most, she risks peeking out 
  from her hiding place, trying to ascertain when, exactly, she can flee.

Auuuuuuuuuuuuuugh! Kassi doesn't literally scream, but she does jerk back in 
  her chair--quite by reflex, you understand. If there's one thing she 
  wasn't expecting, it was a smooch from her usually more or less sane (if 
  geeky) lackey. In doing so, she manages to tip the chair over enough so 
  that it, and she, goes crashing backwards, flower-petals and all.

Ro walks here from the Inner Cavern.
Ro has arrived.

Emlyn indicates V'dan as she answers J'lyn. "You'd be surprised at how 
  successful some of the cross-training has been. Some ... " She pauses as 
  Kassima goes crashing backwards, then resumes, "some riders are as 
  entertaining as the harpers."

"My lady?" babbles V'dan, rather astonished, blinking guilelessly down at 
  Lysseth's rider, immediately scrambling to try to help her to her feet. 
  "My lady! Are you alright?"

Ro walks silently into the living cavern, keeping to the shadows.

Maylia, klah forgotten, gapes. That's about all she's capable of.

Kassima spits out a few flower-petals, scrambling to try and get free of her 
  chair so that she can flee this raving lunatic while the getting's good. 
  "Fine!" she yelps, while twisting about to kick her way free of the 
  treacherous furniture. "Fine! Fine! Abso-sharding-lutely fine!" Her twists 
  succeed only in rolling her over so that the chair now pins her to the 
  floor, and flowers scatter everywhere. "Why me?" is the muffled wail from 
  somewhere amidst the mess furniture, flowers, and greenrider.

Ro pieces together events from what she sees as best she can.

J'lyn gets himself a glass of Benden Red, and settles into a chair, winking 
  towards Maylia and Emlyn. "Some people just get a little more carried away 
  and emotional than they should when they get ... artistic."

Oh, well, in that case... V'dan, beaming the beam of a man in the throes of 
  love, scoops up his drum again, and entreats, "Would you like..." He heaves a 
  large, dreamy sigh. "... an encore?"

Emlyn comments to Maylia and J'lyn, "Personally, I'd just let the fellow have 
  his way, if I were Kassima. V'dan's, er, -affection- seems harmless enough."

Maylia watches petals go poofing everywhere, furniture spinning, and Kassi 
  rolling on the floor. Debating whether or not to get involved and try to 
  help her mentor, she shakes her head rapidly at the threat of an encore. 
  Oh dear. "Harmless?" she asks the two greenriders near her. "He's gonna 
  sing again, that's not harmell." Try as she might, she cannot avoid 
  grinning a little.

"NO!" comes the shout from many of the riders who staunchly refused to flee 
  the Cavern when the concert began. Kassi's own hasty, "Nay!" is rather 
  drowned out by this. "Um, I mean... 'twas such a marvelous song that I 
  doubt any of the serving-lasses could stand t'hear it again without 
  swooning. Pierron wouldn't be very happy if they broke all of the dishes." 
  Yeah, that's the ticket. Inch by inch, she seems intent on dragging 
  herself and the chair under the table, where she just might be safe.

"I have a poem, then!" V'dan cries hopefully. "I could read that, if you 
  want! 'My Most Magnificent Marvelous Kassima's Eyes.' Twenty-three 
  stanzas!"

Emlyn chokes a little on her wine at V'dan's announcement of his poem's 
  length. "Er, much as I like Kassima's eyes, I think I might pass on an 
  epic poem praising them." She kicks her legs off the bench where they've 
  been stretched out and begins to stand.

There can be no denying it: that muffled sound from Kassima's direction was 
  definitely a whimper. But, with some effort, she manages to recover her 
  aplomb and keep herself focused on that goal of freedom. "You'd probably 
  wear your throat out, reciting that much," she says desperately. "I 
  wouldn't have you do such a thing just to, err, praise *me*, V'dan." That 
  might well be the only poem ever written to praise her virtues, but when 
  it comes from V'dan, even Kassi's natural curiousity isn't enough to 
  overcome her knowledge of certain embarrassment.

J'lyn quirks an eyebrow at V'dan. "If you feel you can run faster than me, 
  V'dan, go ahead and start that poem."

Maylia winces again, shaking her head. "Twenty three?" At V'dan's comment, 
  she chokes back a giggle.

Chymeth's rider gushes, apparently completely and totally oblivious to 
  J'lyn, Maylia, Emlyn, and the rest of the riders in the cavern, "All 
  this and more I would do in your service, Kassima, sweet darling, heart's 
  own, light of my life, joy of my heart--" His face turns even more 
  radiant as he manages to remember the various endearments E'rian had been 
  tossing around, but he breaks the moment by prattling on, "--cream of my 
  crop, queen of my clutch, pick of my pack, forever and ever, I'll be at 
  your side, your loyal aide!" And he grabs up Kassima's nearest hand, 
  smooching it over and over, starting to work his way up her arm.

Emlyn pauses to watch V'dan. She turns to Maylia and J'lyn, saying, "Yep, 
  if I were Kassima, I'd put him out of his misery. Of course, I'm not 
  Kassima." She goes to put her mug away, saying as she passes the scene, 
  "Have a good afternoon, you two."

J'lyn stands up, and tries to make himself look menacing, but collapses in 
  gales of laughter at the mwah-mwah-mwah-ing that Kassi's arm is getting, 
  and the look of disgusted terror that is so out of place on his 
  co-wing-second's face.
J'lyn grins and waves to Emlyn.

Emlyn walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.
Emlyn has left.

Kassima emits a sound that is remarkably like a chicken's scream when it 
  sees the axe descending toward it's head, and manages somehow to struggle 
  her way lose of the chair, the table, V'dan's grip, and all the other 
  things keeping her from either fleeing for her life or killing her 
  wingmate. He's too valuable to kill, so she chooses the latter course, 
  pelting *away* from the madman and hiding behind her co-Wingsecond. "Help 
  me, a'fore I snap and kill him!" she pleads. He's supposed to care about 
  the welfare of other Thunderbolt riders too, right?

J'lyn slightly regains his equillibrium and walks (sort of) over to V'dan. 
  "Alright, V'dan. That's enough. I don't think that Kassima is too keen on 
  being accosted today."

Maylia, trying to keep from giggling and tears forming in her eyes with the 
  effort, tries to give Kassi a comforting smile. It's over. Except for the 
  rumours.

Kassima doesn't *cower*; it wouldn't be at all like her to cower. She just 
  sort of crouches behind J'lyn's abandoned chair, one stray flower wielded 
  threateningly. She apparently subscribes to the philosophy that *anything* 
  can be a weapon if you're desperate enough.

"Come back, beloved!" V'dan blurts at Kassima. "I haven't sung the forty-eight 
  stanzas in honor of Lysseth, and each verse for all your fire lizards yet!" 
  He evidently is still completely oblivious to J'lyn, and he dashes after 
  Kassima, his heart shining in his eyes, throwing open his arms wide, as if 
  bent on embracing Lysseth's rider to him. "And I have to give you the 
  ring!"

Maylia slides to a chair a little closer to Kassi, and plucks a petal from 
  her hair. Stunned, she blinks at V'dan. "The ring?" she softly asks, and 
  now edges a way a little. "Faranth, I hope Chymeth rises *now*."

Kassima starts running backwards as soon as V'dan dodges past her 
  co-Wingsecond, still clutching the flower as though her life depended on 
  it. "You're proddy!" she yells. "You don't know what you're saying!" 
  Pause. She halts in her tracks for the barest split second. "The 
  *ring*?!?"

J'lyn grabs V'dan by the scruff of the smaller man's neck and lifts him from 
  the ground, V'dan's feet running futillely in the air. "V'dan! I said 
  enough!" J'lyn's face scrunches into a scowl. "And I mean for you to 
  listen and understand me!"

Okay, _now_ he registers J'lyn's presence. Dangling in Lorieth's rider's 
  grip, V'dan... well, dangles, even as he fishes into a pocket and comes up 
  with something small and silvery and sparkling. "But, but, but," he pleads, 
  "I have to give my love the ring!"

J'lyn turns the smaller rider around to face him. In a dangerous half-whisper, 
  he says, "And I said, I don't think she wants to deal with you right now."

Kassima is, as it can probably be told by the amount of it she usually wears, 
  something of a sucker for jewelry. However, even the promise of jewelry 
  isn't about to get her any closer to yon madman than she has to be. "Why 
  in Faranth's name," she demands, "would you buy me a ring?" She really must 
  be a masochist if she wants to know the answer to that one.

"But... but... but... how can I ask her to be my weyrmate if you don't let me 
  give her the _ring_?" V'dan babbles to J'lyn, and as Kassima addresses him, 
  as _Her_ dulcet tones fall upon his ear, Chymeth's rider wriggles around to 
  gaze over at her adoringly.

The only sound audible from Kassi now is an entirely undulcet screech, 
  followed swiftly by a *thunk* as the fainted greenrider once again meets 
  the floor.

J'lyn's face turns stony and unexpressionless. "V'dan. When I set you down, 
  you have about a half a heartbeat to get out of my sight. Do. You. 
  Understand?"

Entirely aghast as Kassima keels over, V'dan blurts, "But... my lady... 
  but..." As J'lyn makes himself clear in words even a proddy rider can 
  comprehend, Chymeth's young rider starts turning red-faced, his eyes 
  hangdog and teary. And he finishes plaintively, "My lady?"

Maylia now acts, and dives to the floor next to where Kassi has fallen to. 
  "Kassi?" She asks, eyes wide. Hovering over the passed-out rider, she 
  perhaps guards her mentor's hands from any attempt at beringing her while 
  she's incapable of defending herself.

Kassima is definitely out cold, between what she just heard and the knock 
  her head managed to receive when she became better acquianted with the 
  floor. She does stir a bit after a moment, with a faint groan. "Auuuugh."

Maylia waves to a nearby rider, requesting water. Not that that actually does 
  anything, but it makes her feel usefull. Pillowing the fainted Kassi's head 
  with her hand, she starts removing petals from her hair, casting a 
  bewildered look towards J'lyn and Chymetn's rider.

J'lyn nods to Maylia, seeing that she's helping Kassima. "I asked you a 
  question, V'dan."

Clearly every fiber of V'dan's being rings with the need to hasten to Her 
  Marvelousness's side, but, cowed, he mumbles at J'lyn, "I understand..."

Kassima cracks open somewhat dazed eyes as the flowers are removed from her 
  hair, which was already looking weird enough with that red flag so 
  flamboyantly tied around it. "I just had," she mutters, focusing on Maylia 
  with bewilderment, "the most bizarre dream... why am I on the floor?"

J'lyn goose-steps V'dan over to the door and releases him, watching his 
  scrawny little butt disappear into the bowl.

And the moment J'lyn sets him down, V'dan casts a woebegone look at the 
  crumpled Kassima, his eyes brimming over with dejected tears. He hangs 
  his head and creeps off outside, to the dubious refuge of a very proddy 
  Chymeth, leaving his drum and a storm of scattered flowerpetals behind.

Maylia shushes Kassi, shaking her head gently. "You don't want to know, 
  really. But you're going to have quite the headache, I'd guess."

Under her table, Mehlani peeks warily out, sticking her behatted head out 
  into view. Is he gone?

Kassima grimaces, nodding a faint agreement with that assessment. "Did I 
  fall?" she asks. "From m'chair again?" This is a fairly regular occurance 
  with her, one might surmise.

J'lyn ducks down at the little head peeking out from under the table. 
  "Mehlani, what are you doing under there?

Maylia nods, a slight grin on her face. "You fell, though not from your 
  chair, this time." With delicacy, she frees another flower bud from her 
  mentor's hair.

Seeing that V'dan is, in fact, gone, Mehlani looks up and up at J'lyn and 
  murmurs tinily, "I was hiding."

J'lyn smirks, and offers a hand up. "Hiding from what, you silly little 
  thing?"

"There are flowers," Kassi realizes slowly, "in m'hair. There are *flowers* 
  in *my* hair. There is something very wrong with that...." She blinks, 
  eyes widening as her memory starts to return to her. "Please tell me that 
  was just a dream?"

Maylia hands Kassi the flower bud in answer. She's not going to tell her that 
  no, it wasn't a nightmare borne from a sudden aquaintance with the floor.

Mehlani gets to her feet, her small hand clasping J'lyn's large one, and she 
  peers first at him, then at Kassima, then at Maylia. Determining that the 
  only green riders in sight appear to be those in possession of their reason, 
  she finally murmurs to Lorieth's rider, "I didn't want him to see me."

J'lyn picks up a stray flower from the table, a firedrop in full bloom, and 
  hands it to Kassi. "Here. For you, from Cove Hold."
J'lyn picks up a moondrop bud just beginning to open and tucks it behind 
  Mehlani's left ear. "And if he ever bothers you again, little one, you come 
  find me."

Kassima takes the flower, gazes at it for a moment, and then shudders. Just 
  shudders. "There are reasons why I avoid V'dan when he's proddy, and you've 
  just seen all of 'em. I thought she'd have flown by now...." Her somewhat 
  bemused ramblings are broken by the offering of a flower, and she grins 
  wryly up at J'lyn, taking it and tucking it behind one ear. "Thankee, Jal. 
  I owe you two--one for the flower, and one for V'dan. I do *nay* know what 
  gets into him when he's proddy."

"Oh, V'dan didn't bother me," Mehlani blurts. "It's just that... uh..." And 
  she trails off.

J'lyn finishes up his wine and sets the empty glass in the washbasin for some 
  poor unsuspecting LCG to wash.

As order... more or less... returns to the cavern, Mehlani casts a shy silent 
  glance to Kassima, and then steps to the woman's side. "Are you alright?" she 
  asks softly.

Kassima sits up with a flashed smile of rueful thanks to Maylia, wincing as she 
  touches the forming bump on her head. "Oh, aye," she assures Mehlani with a 
  wry chuckle. "You'd think I'd be used t'psychotic greenriders by now, but... 
  gah. That's the most bizarre psychosis I've ever seen. Wanting t'weyrmate 
  t'*me*?" She just shakes her head in disbelief. "Weird. Is that what E'rian 
  did that got you so upset, lass?"

Mehlani might be seen to blush, deeply. She starts to shake her head, and 
  then she whispers timidly, "Not... quite..."

"All of that minus the weyrmating bit?" Kassi surmises; she does indeed know 
  her cousin well.

'Lani reaches up to tug her hat lower over her eyes, even as she mumbles, "He 
  wasn't... quite... so...." The daughter of F'hlan, bronze Tzornth's rider, 
  would never call anyone clumsy; it is Mehlani's principle that if nothing 
  nice can be said about someone, nothing at all should be uttered. She 
  finally finishes, "Well... more or less."

Kassima has no such scruples, and immediately fills in the blank, "V'dan-like. 
  A good thing; one of him in a Weyr's enough. D'you want me t'give him a 
  talking, lass? Once he's nay proddy anymore, I mean. I doubt 'twould do 
  much good right now."

Maylia grimaces. "As I recall, E'rian's singing was a touch better." She 
  volunteers. "V'dan sat here and took notes, through it all, though. On his 
  riding jacket, when he ran out of hide."

Kassima blinks at Maylia. "That crumpled piece of hide? It couldn't possibly 
  have been legible. At least that'd explain 'O densest lady whose repast 
  provides the only fear in m'shattered existence,' or whatever he said."

J'lyn grins, and says, "I need to go make sure that fumbling idiot doesn't 
  get himself into more trouble. I'll see you folks later."

Maylia tries to stop a giggle, the resulting sound being close to a snort. 
  "That'd explain it. That and the smearing of the charcoal stick he was 
  using to write with." She winks at Mehlani. "Although, you both had similar 
  reactions to being kissed."

J'lyn walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.
J'lyn has left.

"E'rian sings very n--" comes Mehlani's mumble out from under her hat, though 
  she immediately cuts herself off at Maylia's sly observation.

Kassima grins up at Mehlani, mischief already starting to twinkle in her eyes 
  again now that the terror has passed. "Oh, so you jerked away and fell 
  backwards, too? I'm terribly sorry t'hear that--I take it you're all right 
  now?"

Maylia shakes her head, enjoying the teasing. "Well, not quite. But she ended 
  up on the floor, though. Must've been quite a kiss."

The brown hat, all that's visible of Mehlani's head and face since she has her 
  gaze pointed solidly at the floor, shrinks down a little. Mehlani's probably 
  blushing even yet, but the hat is blocking it.
Mehlani manages to get out a muffled reply to Kassima, nevertheless, 
  "'Malright... yes..."

"Well," Kassi remarks, finally getting to her feet with the intent of 
  returning to where her chair has fallen, "I'll talk to Eyr. I'm certain 
  he'll be horrified to have caused you any distress." That would reduce his 
  chances with her, after all. "Shells, but I'm glad that Simaeva volunteered 
  t'watch after Khari today t'let me recover from the trip. I doubt she'd 
  have liked those drumbeats a whit."

"Oh... he... he did nothing to be horrified about!" Mehlani blurts, looking up. 
  "Please... it's... alright..."

Maylia adds, "Not to mention tumbling to the floor twice. And a screaming 
  Khari, added to the caterwalling he passed as singing." She ughs, shaking 
  her head with a grin. At Mehlani's stammered protests, she raises her 
  eyebrows.

Kassima states flatly, "If'n he'd made me fall while 'twas holding Khari, 
  I'd have flattened him, wingmate or nay wingmate, V'dan or nay V'dan. With 
  me, 'tis one matter--but endangering m'child...." She shrugs, but it's 
  clear that her tolerance for such things is nil. "Oh, 'Lani? Well, you 
  can tell him that once Milleniuth's risen... though I'd nay do so until 
  then if'n 'twere you. He probably wouldn't understand."

Mehlani shyly drops her gaze at Kassima's advice, murmuring only, "He was... 
  very... sweet..."

Kassima has to grin at that, even as she rights her fallen chair and seats 
  herself in it with a sigh. "He has charisma t'spare, that one. 'Tany rate, 
  I propose we change the subject ere anyone can hear and start rumors about 
  all of this... though I daresay 'tis too late, anyway. Maylia? How went 
  things with you during the rest of the festival? I lost track of you after 
  you went bug-hunting."

Festival... Festival. Mehlani's brow crinkles, as she suddenly recollects 
  something that Kassima had said to her before the Dread Interruption of 
  V'dan. "Please... excuse me," she murmurs to Maylia and Kassi, turning 
  abruptly to slip out into the Bowl.
Mehlani walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.
Mehlani has left.

Maylia returns to her own seat, and frowns at her cold klah. "After 
  bug-hunting?" She asks, then thinks a moment. "Oh, I just wandered a bit, 
  but I'd dawn sweeps the next morning, and straps to check, so I headed back 
  here. Did you enjoy the festival?"

Kassima nods. "Aye... though the preserves I made at the Baker class seemed 
  t'bring bad luck. Lost m'flight wager, didn't get a chance t'fleece Mart, 
  had t'sleep out on Nie's ledge instead of in the weyr, and then Kaylira 
  decided t'sing 'One-Hundred Blueriders Out On the Ledge' all the way home. 
  She doesn't know many numbers, so a'course she just kept repeating one or 
  two verses over and over. Which spurred Ylysse t'sing the greenrider variant, 
  and Khari fussed a lot of the way... then I came home t'what you witnessed. 
  Gah. Remind me nay t'do that again, would you?"

Maylia deadpans, "Don't ever do that again, mentor-mine." Before grinning. 
  "Who did win that flight, anyways? Tas never did say..."

Kassima snorts in amusement, then half-grimaces. "Oh, Belaryth. Which is a 
  fine thing for him and his rider, and I'm certain he flew well... but it 
  cost me marks, shardit. This is, I believe, the second gold he's caught; 
  he sired one of Lrisseth's clutches, too."

Maylia blushes slightly, not mentionning why who won the flight slipped her 
  mind at the time. "Belaryth? How many'd you loose?" She asks.

Kassima's grin broadens a bit, as she's readily able to guess at the cause of 
  the blush. She doesn't mention it, though; instead, she replies, "Two and a 
  quarter. I diversified m'wagers, with a half each on three of the dragons 
  and a quarter each on three more."
Kassima admits drolly, "That wasn't the wisest of things t'do, but 'twas so 
  certain... well, anyway, I'll have to hope for the best at the Igen hatching 
  t'fill m'pockets again."

Maylia chuckles, rising. "You'll have to instruct me in the ways of wagering, 
  Kassi. That's something I've never learned." She doesn't add that she won't 
  be betting against Kassi at the hatching. She knows better than that, already.

With that, and a grin, Maylia heads for the bowl. "Tierth calls." she explains
Maylia walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.
Maylia has left.

Kassima chuckles at Maylia, eyes glinting. "Always glad to instruct someone in 
  wagering," she remarks under her breath, getting to her feet and heading 
  outside herself.
You walk down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.

[End log.]