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

Friends?

Chailyn has a talk with E'vrin about the nature of friendship.
Setting: Early Evening, Telgar Weyr Starstones

Chailyn - Sunday, September 24, 2000, 5:04 PM
---------------------------------------------

Above, From the Telgar Star Stones, L'klal, riding burnished bronze Pteynth, backwings to a clean landing and settles, replacing Tadara's steely blue Agrarth on watchrider duty.

Sharath has curled up some distance from the living cavern's entrance, and inside his cloak of wings and coil of tail, he drowses and shows only the thinnest slits of green-blue whirling under his eyelids.

Chailyn tracks the changing of the watchriders, perhaps not quite able to identify the riders at this distance in the dark. She starts to take off her hat, and then shivers at a whistle of wind, scooting over towards Sharath's bluk to take advantage of the shelter. She murmurs, "Hope you don't mind, fella. but I just can't be inside another minute."

Sharath's answer to that is a low, thin breath and a shift of position: he moves his shoulders deeper into the wind, making a higher break for her. An eye is now half-open, staring at her.

Chailyn beams up at Sharath, entirely unafraid at that large eye. "Thank you. I can offer eyeridge drubbings in return, but you'd have to come down here." She settles in more comfortably. "Where's your rider?" Not that's she's concerned about it, or even expecting an answer, but still, smalltalk with dragons isn't her forte.

Sharath angles his head towards the living cavern, then rests the great wedge back on his forepaws and regards her some more, blinking every now and then in the gloom.

Chailyn ahs, looking towards the living caverns and then back to the bronze. "I couldn't cope with being inside any longer. It's *got* to be almost spring. Did you want that eyeridge drubbing or no?" She abruptly changes topics. "It's the least I can do for using you as a wind break."

Chailyn blinks a bit, very nearly landing on her rear as she takes an involuntary step back. "Oh." The word comes out in a very soft whisper, as she looks up at the bronze with wide eyes. She blinks a moment and then a smile starts to appear. "I guess if you needed anything you'd let me know. You certainly don't seem as quiet as your rider is." She shakes her head.

Sharath slits his eyes, shifts a wingsail's folds, and if a dragon could laugh ... well, this bronze mountain will settle for exuding a definite sense of appreciation, palpable from several paces away, at that comment.

Chailyn arches her eyebrows. "That's funny is it? Well, he's quiet around *me* at least. And he's just..." She wrinkles her nose, frustrated. "I dunno. Impossible at times."

Sharath yawns and looks supremely unconcerned, as if to comment on how if /he/ can handle the man...

Chailyn giggles softly. "Yeah, that's easy for you to say." She takes a poke towards the huge maw. "You're his other half. Though if I could wheedle any tips out of you..." She considers, "Though I don't really have anything you'd want, save for scritching. And maybe bathing help, if I can con my two lizards into helping too." She wrinkles her nose. "It's hard to find anyone close to my age that can talk to me too. And from Igen. I miss it sometimes. I wonder if he does."

Chailyn smiles a bit ruefully. "Don't put you in the middle, huh? Yeah, I should have gotten out of that when I was a kid." She shrugs slightly. "I dunno, It's just kinda weird. Maybe it should be as simple as that. Me talking to him." She smiles wryly. "I dunno, ever since Daelyth rose though, I feel kind odd around him. Silly, isn't it."

Sharath yawns again, teeth clicking when the narrow jaws close: tick, tick, tick, like a thin heartbeat, or a scolding tongue. The aether around him remains rosy-warm, though, not pressing or chiding, and he's still the faithful windbreak to all small things that wander his way. Like her.

Chailyn laughs softly. "Maybe I should try a bit of dragon calm, huh? Course, you know him better than I do." A pause and then she asks, "Why *are* you so tired anyway? Long day of sweeps and... and what *do* you do all day anyway? I haven't the faintest idea."

Alerith backwings for a landing.

Merielan carefully dismounts from Alerith's long neck.

Chailyn waves to Merielan and Alerith, from where she is sheltered from the wind by Sharath's bulk. "Evening!"

Merielan gives Alerith a pat as she slides down, waving to Chailyn as she makes her way towards the Living Cavern. "Evening Chailyn! Going to come inside?"

Chailyn shakes her head. "I'm *so* tired of being inside. And Sharath's being nice enough to block the wind. I'm taking advantage of him while I have him. But thanks." She grins a bit at the brownrider, and then quirks a look at Sharath again.

Sharath snakes his head around to whuff briefly at the brown and his rider, then reclines again into a waiting posture. Drowsy.

Merielan smiles softly, patting the bronze muzzle when it's offered by a whuffle and nods to Chailyn. "Understandable..I'll see you about then." And she moves inside.

Merielan walks beneath the lintel and disappears into the living cavern.

Alerith whuffles back at Sharath, *whomping* over to stand on the other side of Chailyn, whirling eyes regarding her with interest.

Above, The spring air is cold. The cloud cover lessens until the sky is mostly cloudy. The breeze picks up, sending a few leaves skittering across the bowl floor.

Chailyn is quiet a few moments, looking at Sharath. Whatever she was about to say is cut off by the approach of Alerith, however. She smiles up at the brown. "You going to be a wind break too? I can offer eyeridge drubbings..."

Alerith nudges Chailyn with his nose--carefully-- as ever and whuffles. As if to say, 'rubbings would be -much- appreciated.'

Sharath keeps himself aloof. He's just the windbreak.

Chailyn nods and notes drily, "You *do* have to come down here though. I'm not *that* tall." Her tone is amused.

Alerith snorts in the tone of 'of course' and leans his head oh-so-graciously down towards Chailyn.

Chailyn stretches up on tiptoes and reaches to rub along the offered eyeridges. "Least I can do for you taking the brunt of the wind." She grins a bit at Sharath and offers, "Even if it's not universally requested." She sighs. "I just hope it gets warmer soon! I'm tired of being cooped up inside all the time.

E'vrin comes out of the short tunnel from the living cavern.

E'vrin stuffs his hands in his pockets and hunches his head between his shoulders as soon as the breeze hits him, and he heads towards the known bulk of his dragon for shelter. Help!

Merielan comes out of the short tunnel from the living cavern.

Merielan hurries past, sniffling hugely. Alerith tears himself away from Chailyn with one last whuffle and waits paitently as Meri mounts.
Merielan disappears upwards in the suddenly brown sky of Alerith's back.

Alerith takes flight, using the thermals rising from the bowl to carry him aloft.

Sharath arches his neck to press his head against the length of his rider's body, and gets an unabashed hug in return. "You said what?" E'vrin mutters into the bronze hide and peeks out at Chailyn warily.

Chailyn blinks a bit at Sharath, and then turns. "Oh. E'vrin. Ah, evening." She is nearly pushed off balance at the brown's abrupt departure, and windmills her arms for a moment before catching herself.

E'vrin says "--Evening. What did you want to talk about?"

Chailyn clears her throat. "Uh, um, the weather? Is it getting warmer?"

E'vrin straightens from his dragon, but keeps a hand to the muzzle for balance, with Sharath lightly steaming his breath around those splayed fingers, unperturbed. "Spring's coming, yes." He sounds mellow. Looks mellow. "Was that all?"

Chailyn shrugs slightly. "Ah, sure." A pause and then she asks, tilting her head a bit closer to the rider. "Are you drunk?"

E'vrin tips his head, making the ambient night-light slant opaquely across wide eyes. "No, do I sound it?" he wonders. "Or look it? I haven't had a drop to drink in days."

Chailyn flushes. "Uh. No. Sorry." she clears her throat. "I didn't mean to imply... I mean... oh nevermind." She shakes her head. "Sharath's been blocking out the wind for me. He's been very considerate." How's that for an abrupt change of topic?

"Very talkative, too," E'vrin adds smoothly. "I hope it hasn't bothered you. Some dragons never bespeak anyone but their riders from shell to death, and some would talk to a rock if they felt like it. Mine is leaning towards the latter category, to my chagrin."

Chailyn shakes her head. "Oh, no. Sharath couldn't be a bother if he tried." She says nothing of his rider. "It's never happened before, but I suppose even a rock might eventually answer back." She smiles faintly and then asks, "Anything going on in the caverns tonight?

E'vrin replies, "Emilly's leavetaking continues. Sounds like she's going west tonight, though. Hope she's happy there." He rubs between the bronze's nostrils again, then folds his arms. "--Not that I'm comparing you to a rock, mind you. A pair of fire-lizards look to you, so you've some sensitivity, I'd think," he concludes on a slight smile.

Chailyn shrugs. "Oh, you never know." She changes the subject again. "I hope she is too. Emilly, I mean. I can't imagine going somewhere colder than her. It's nice enough to finally be able to get outside for a while. If, of course, you have a dragon for a windbreak. I was going crazy being cooped up in the caverns. I always used to get out in the evening at Igen."

"I did, too." E'vrin tips his head again, this time back, and peers into the cloudy skies. "Up on the Rim, you know. It isn't the same here, but -- it isn't bad. I miss not having the desert to look at."

Chailyn smiles a trifle wistfully. "You could always see the starts better up there. I miss that most of all, I think."

E'vrin says "Yeah." He's silent a moment. "I wouldn't mind going up top to see what can be seen, though. If you'd like to join me...?"

Chailyn opens her mouth, and then looks to Sharath. She shuts it, considering the bronze for a moment and then says slowly, "Well, if Sharath wouldn't mind taking me..."

E'vrin says "He said he'd hardly notice your weight. It's all right, if you want to come. If not, no worries."

Chailyn opens her mouth, and then looks back to E'vrin. She smiles a trifle hesitantly and nods. "I'd like to, yes."

Sharath's eyes gleam like turquoises lit with their own internal fires, and he flows into a waiting crouch, wings half-vaned at the ready.

E'vrin nods more firmly back. "Good. You've done it before, right?"

E'vrin scrambles up Sharath's foreleg to his neck.

Chailyn nods. "Ridden on browns before. Never someone this big. And thank you for the offer, Sharath. I appreciate it." Not one to be shy, she clamors up on the bronze's forelimb and catches hold of the straps to haul herself up.

Sharath

Ruddy firelight gleams a shuddering wave along this mature dragon's spine: dark against the tawny-bronze hide, neckridges hook and hook ever back from the proud head and down the long, lean neck. The wave plunges, smooth and sleek, across the narrow shoulders' bunched muscles and disappears without a ripple between the high, metal-gilt wings arching bright behind.

Around a decade old, Sharath is small for his breed, yet the ground still lies quite a distance below, and his bulk is comforting, sturdy, and hearth-warm for all his slight build. A mass of pale yellow scars tangles on his left shoulder. Fully rigged riding straps dull dark and snug against his taffy-tawny hide.

Contents:
E'vrin

You scramble up Sharath's foreleg and shoulder to rest between two fire-bright neckridges.

E'vrin slaps a hand to the firm neck and laughs shortly. "He's just a little one," he tells their passenger. "Carries himself like someone larger, maybe. Let me check your straps -- good. Are you ready? No acrobatics, I promise."

Chailyn laughs. "Acrobatics are fun though. I'm not one to get airsick." She wraps hands about straps after buckling herself in - she does at least know the drill.

E'vrin says "Mm. Don't tempt him! We'll go straight and simple, I think, but perhaps on the way back down..."

--> Sharath rumbles. Indeed.

Chailyn laughs and calls forward, "I wouldn't mind a bit, Sharath. You wouldn't drop me in the bowl."

E'vrin protests stoutly, "Of course he wouldn't. Here we go, then--"

You spring into the air and catch the thermals rising from the bowl floor to carry you aloft.

Southern Bowl Airspace(#1362RLQe)
Hovering above the southern part of Telgar Weyrs hourglass-shaped bowl, you are surrounding by a three-quarter circle of spiky rock walls. Flat across its east face and open at its northern-most end, the shape is perfect to bring up the chill winds which swirl around you. Below, you can almost make out the bustling of activity outside of the Living Caverns and Infirmary as well as the lower ledges of the Queenriders and Weyrleaders. Far off to the northwest is the gaping cavern of the Hatching grounds and the weyrling barracks. Beast sounds filter across from the northeast as the feeding pens are located there. The other half of the hourglass and lake reach perfectly north, the snow-capped peaks of mountains not far beyond them.
To see a list of landing areas, '+view landing sites'. You can see the dragonweyrs of Skyfire and Thunderbolt wings. Use '+view skyfire' or '+view thunderbolt' to see them.
Obvious exits:
Star Stones

You fly over towards the Star Stones.

Star Stones
The caldera edge has been shorn flat here, a tabletop surface save for generations of dragon's claws scraping across the rock. The stones themselves are large, though not as large as those at Fort Weyr, and are of the highest quality on Pern. They point unerringly through the Eye rock to the Red Star when thread is expected. A watch is kept continuously here, mindful of any potential danger
This hulking bronze seems more akin to stone than flesh. His hide is flawlessly colored, but his proportions seem a little off. Neck is short, tail is stocky, wings are just barely big enough to lift him from the ground. His head is broad, if still noble. It is obvious why he's on watchduty. His right wing is rent from midsail to trailing edge, and only poorly healed. If you inquire of his tall, stocky rider , L'klal, as to what happened to him, the young blond man's blue eyes fill with pain. "G'mort's Chath tore into him during a mating flight, when he dared to chase Renlith."
The evening is partly cloudy, though when the clouds clear briefly you can see the stars. The smaller Belior winks as a waning crescent while Timor shines in half moon. There seems to be a light breeze and the spring air is cold.

You carefully backwing for a landing on the rim.

Chailyn laughs as the bronze backwings to the ledge and the stones. "Silly." Though the comment could very well be aimed at either. She unclips and slides down a trifle recklessly, with a wide grin for the ride down to the ledge.

You slide down Sharath's shoulder and foreleg to the ground.

Sharath huffs and sidles to take up position with the watchpair, who give only a short greeting, dragon and rider, before turning back to their duties.

E'vrin lets the bronze go and huddles in his jacket. "I'm not silly," he protests, but still mildly. A regular milquetoast is he, though there's some sharp calculation now and again when he glances her way.

Chailyn shrugs a bit, hunching down in ehr jacket. "Wind's worse up here, and I think we lost Sharath as a break. What's wrong with being silly every now and then?"

"Am I tall enough for a break? I can call him back over, if not. He's just chatting with Pteynth." E'vrin looks again at the pair of bronzes, then back. He loses some mildness. "Nothing wrong, I suppose, but it isn't something I do, myself."

Chailyn does just what was suggested and uses the taller rider as a windbreak. "Why not?" She sounds a trifle surprised. "Everyone can use a dose of silliness every now and then."

E'vrin says "I suppose, but I haven't really had the time."

Chailyn crowds a bit closer, muttering an apology and grimacing at the wind. "Why not? What's keeping you busy?"

"Dragonriding," is E'vrin's droll response. "--Don't worry about it; the wind's really biting you, isn't it?"

Chailyn offers, "I'm surprised it's not getting to you too. Maybe the desert just thinned my blood more. And even if your dragonridering, there's no reason you can't have a little fun along with it. What *do* you do for fun anyway?"

"You get used to it, riding through it on sweeps day in and day out." E'vrin shrugs and turns slightly towards her, bracing his shoulders and back to provide a better shelter. Ahead of them, his head dips lower against the wind's cut. "I don't know," and he sounds tired. "I sleep. I visit my children if I get the chance. I spend time with Sharath or with Savor. Or a friend. Sometimes I sit on the ledge and look at the Weyr."

Chailyn asks curiously, her tone a trifle gentle, "Don't you have any hobbies or anything? I mean, duty's great and all, but if it's all there is, it can get... to be too much." Her expression is a trifle worried, blue eyes tipped up to his face.

E'vrin's eyes, washed of their color by the night or just by the hood of lids and browline, stare equably back. "I used to whittle, a little," he answers, tossing it off as nothing. "I /should/ have a secondary duty, I know, to contribute in my off-hours ... but I haven't found anything. I'm not really /good/ at anything. Why do you want to know?"

Chailyn shrugs. "Do I have to have a reason? I... enjoy talking to you. Most of the caverns folks here aren't really my age, save for Erdrick, and I don't know him that well. And you're from home, and I miss that. Hard to relate to people around here sometimes. And I guess I'd just like to see friends smile more is all."

After a moment of standing still, E'vrin says, low, "I'm sorry. A certain natural suspicion of mind... Of course, you're just talking. Though I hadn't considered us friends; that changes things."

Chailyn flushes faintly and stakes a step back, exposing herself to the wind. "Oh. If I've presumed, I'm sorry...."

Sharath's head lifts briefly from his palaver with burnished Pteynth, and his eyes cut swaths of swirling blued light from the night, just for the moment, aimed at the distant pair, before he returns to his chat.

"No." E'vrin shakes his head, but stands his ground against the wind's insistent lean. His voice moves through it like shadow through light. "Don't apologize, Chailyn," and there's a weary, rueful smile. "I keep my emotions close, that's all, and don't count anyone as friend without -- well, without a lot of history behind it. Doesn't mean that you can't think of it so, and now that I know you do, why, I can be nicer to you. How's that?"

Chailyn's temper apparently flairs for a moment. "Be nice to me because you *want* to be, not because I presumed to think we were friends." She takes another step back into the wind. "There's no obligation for you to treat me any different."

E'vrin makes an exasperated sound; behind him, a bronze's wingspars rattle irritably like muted chimes in a tizzy. "I didn't know I had to treat you as anything in particular, Chailyn! We've chatted, we've shared a quiet moment here and there, you backed me into Impressing Savor -- sure, there's some basis for friendship if you wish it. But if not, I'm still the polite, gentlemanly figure in the background--" he slurs some self-deprecation through that description "--who'll listen to you and talk about Igen with you."

You say "If *I* wish it? What about what you want, E'vrin?"

E'vrin counters, "What does it matter what I want?"

It's Chailyn's turn to sigh in exasperation. "Because, E'vrin, I'm not going to *force* you to like me. or be friends with me. You've got a say in this too, you know. For once, don't just be that polite gentlemanly figure if you don't *want* to be." She scowls, and the expression just does not sit well on her face, even though her blue eyes are near to sending out sparks.

E'vrin slits /his/ against them, figurative or not. (That wind cuts sharp, cuts close, too--) In tight control, he replies, "I like you well enough, Chailyn, and I'm sorry we've gotten into a sticky bit here over such a silly point. I'll be your friend if you want it. Friends are good; one can never have too many of them."

Chailyn wraps her arms around herself, shivering. "You're saying what you think I want to hear, aren't you?"

"Of course." E'vrin, polite scoundrel that he is, doesn't bother to lie; is quite prompt with the affirmation, too. "I want to make you feel better. Is that so wrong?"

Chailyn growls, "Yes! Say what *you* want to say. Scorch my feelings on the matter. What I *want* is to hear what you honestly *think*."

E'vrin falls back verbally if not physically for a moment. "...Why?"

Chailyn sniffs. "Because I actually care what you think, dimglow." Her voice softens faintly. "Is that so hard to believe?"

E'vrin says "Yes."

E'vrin says "It is, actually."

E'vrin shrugs around into the wind and falls silent.

Chailyn frowns faintly, and isn't so easily dissuaded. She hesitates for a moment, and then asks from behind you, voice pitched to carry over the wind, "Why?"

E'vrin's answer floats light on the wind: not a care in the world to the tone, which wraps as a facile facade around its darker core. "I'm not often given such consideration from people I barely know. No surprise there, I think. I'm nothing special, Chailyn, so I'd accept your friendship willingly if you do want to give it. It's kind of you."

Chailyn evidently can't cope with someone that has a back turned to her. She circles around to at least view the profile of the rider that's vexing her. "You just don't know normal people then. Who said such terrible things to you to make you think that you don't deserve normal human consideration?" Her brow is furrowed, blue eyes plainly a trifle worried.

"No one." Now E'vrin's testy and not bothering to show it, though he bares his teeth in a sort of smile. "Could we talk about something else? Sharath said you had things on your mind--"

Chailyn says simply, "It's hard to be friends with people if you insist on keeping them at arm's length." She nods slightly, looking away and tactfully giving the bronzer time to compose himself. "If you don't want to talk about it, that's your right."

A moment passes. Another one. Then: "Thank you," E'vrin returns with like simplicity.

Chailyn shrugs slightly. "Keep your secrets. I won't pry." She turns her attention out to the stars instead. "A little cloudy, even with all this wind."

E'vrin repeats, "Spring's coming. It'll be warmer, with the clouds."

Chailyn says neutrally, "I'll be glad to see spring. I'm tired of the bleakness."

E'vrin shifts around on the ledge: a compass point seeking north? "Yeah, wait until the greenery explodes down in the lowlands. It'll be something to see. Nothing like desert blooms, of course."

Chailyn's tone is quiet. "There's a girl visiting here from Lemos. Says there are a lot of trees down there. I might get a watchrider to take me down and see. I've never seen a skybroom before."

"They're big," and then E'vrin grins. "I'm not too poetic, I'm afraid, but it's true. They're huge when they're old enough. Get enough together in one stand -- it's a wonder to see."

Chailyn isn't as easy to return to a grin or a smile. She simply nods, glancing over at the bronzer, and then away again. "And I've an invitation to visit the smithcraft as well. One of the apprentices that got an egg from me. I've never been there so." She shrugs slightly.

E'vrin cocks his head at her, moving easily through these shallow waters now. "Think you'd like to go? There's a brown rider in my wing with a father -- no, an uncle, that's it -- who's a mastersmith posted there. You might talk to her if you wanted an easy ride."

Chailyn turns and just looks at the taller rider for a long moment. Her expression is quiet. "I might do so at that," she finally offers.

E'vrin nods once. "Her name's Ilana. Gremath's rider. Short, sturdy, dark hair, and a big laugh -- you've probably seen her around. I think she might've won one of those blasted eggs, even!"

Chailyn nods. "I'll speak to her." She pauses and then asks, "Would you mind if I went down now? It's... getting late." It's not, really, but that's a decent enough of an excuse. "And I have to get up early." There. That tacks on rather nicely.