Fort Weyr - Lake Shore
This lake shares many features common to mountain lakes — a brilliant blue jewel nestled amongst the rocks. The waters are crystal clear, and the north shore slopes gently before abruptly falling away into the depths. This lake does have one significant differentiating feature, however. The south shore of the lake is a tumbled mass of rubble, rock and earth of an ancient rockslide smoothed only by the elements in the intervening years. This rubble, as well as the rather sheer east and west faces, makes for the north shore to be the only one easily accessible.

Morning dawns bright and clear, with autumn's chill on the wind and slowly, but surely, the Weyr wakes after a previous day of festivities and a night filled with feasting and dancing. Some go about their business to tidy and clean up, while others are sent out to begin preparations for the second day of the festival. The Trader's and Crafter's clearings are open again to those wishing to venture out, but as the morning wears on it is clear that the lake shore is the place to be once more. Not for dancing, but for something entirely different: mud wrestling. Popular with a spring festival Turns before, it was cleared and approved to be brought back after several requests. Now part of the shoreline has been cordoned off with rope in various squares and within each is some freshly churned mud (courtesy of some helpful young weyrbrats no doubt!).

But early afternoon promises some warmth, which will benefit any going into the ring. Word went out since breakfast and already several names have been tossed into the lists. Anyone would be welcomed to join, as the matches are determined by weight — rank holds no sway here. Th'ero is standing by one of the roped squares, deep in discussion with two 'official' looking individuals and from the clipboards they're carrying, they are no doubt in charge of arranging and overseeing the matches. The Weyrleader is not wearing his best clothing either, but then again he's not at a formal dance. Could he be among the names? Who knows! Others begin to arrive as well, mostly curious weyrfolk coming by as spectators, though there are some servers among them and no doubt there are Healers lurking around somewhere.
Kimmila swings down from Varmiroth's neck as the nimble little blue lands a short distance down the lake shore. Hair in a braid, the bluerider is dressed in clothes that are clearly work clothes and snug enough not to give anyone an easy grip. Meandering forward, she grabs a klah from a little table of refreshments and sips it as she stands off to the side, letting Th'ero finish up the final arrangements without interrupting him.

Zaala didn't sleep in, imagine that! There's too much excitement and buzz about the mud wrestling for her to miss out on the sight. Who knows, maybe she'll get to see some eye candy, as what's better than two guys wrestling in the mud? It's almost as good as watching sword duels. In any case, she's wearing shorts and a simple tank top, with a light tawny spring jacket settled over top, and knee high wherhide boots. She loiters on the edge of one of the pits, looking in at the freshly turned mud. Drawing her hair over her shoulder in a bindless pony tail, she studies the pit for a moment, casually regarding the official looking peoples. Only a moment is spent there, before wandering away, sniffing out some of that klah to give some perkiness to her morning.

Dtirae is, more or less, coming back from ensuring that everything is ready and checking in with various overseers. The Weyrwoman, however, is not dressed as prettily nor as officially as she normally does. In fact, she's dressed in clothing already dirty and worn with age. Ready for the mud, perhaps? Fingers are tucked into her pockets as she approaches Th'ero with cheery smile upon her lips and a polite nod for the Weyrleader, who does not normally earn such a friendly but not obtrusive greeting. "Everything's looking good on my end, Weyrleader."

Abigail has wandered out to join in this part of the fun as well it seems, she moves along humming a faint tune to herself before catching sight of Zaala whom she pauses next to, peering over at the pits. "Ye gona have a go at it?" This questioned with an amused tone. Clothing for her is a simple tunic that is well fitted and pants that are about the same. Her gaze flicks about towards the others as she catching bits and pieces of some conversations it seems.

Borodin did not put his name on the list. As long as nobody else put it there for him, he's all good! He's here now, though. He's even got klah! But, for once, he's not doing food delivery. He's just got the one mug, and it's just for him. Looks like he needs it, too, because he starts to yawn before hiding it behind the rim of the cup and takes a sip before heading over toward where Abigail and Zaala are.

Zaala has a mug of klah in her hands before long, drawing it up to her lips with a satisfied mmm after the first couple sips. Consequently, she doesn't notice Abigail, since her eyes are closed and embracing the soothing warmth of the klah, since the girl is still trying to adjust to the climate, definitely. Thus, she startles a little at the question amused toward her, dribbling some of the klah over her hand. This means she has to go and lick it clean off, mindless of present company. Only then does she study Abigail, "Yeah right! They'd probably pit me against someone like you and have you seen my arms compared to yours? Mine are sticks and I swear you've arms like a bull!" A beat, "Besides, I hear someone always ends up without a shirt or something in these things." And considering she's just wearing a tank top, it'd be just her luck. A side glance at Abigail, "You're the hero." Clearly, Zaala would be intimidated by the whole idea of going up against Abigail, "You've cracked more skulls than a cook with a rolling pin." A grin, then a wave to Borodin, "Hey toots."

Th'ero will look up and step back as Dtirae approaches and at her cheery smile and polite nod, he returns it with a respectful dip of his head and a small smile that is, for once, not strained or reserved. "Good news then, Weyrwoman. We can begin," he says, extending that to the two officials with a pointed look. The two men with the clipboards nod and then disperse to stand on either end of the "gate" leading into the ring. One lifts his voice, firm and clear, to be heard above the murmur of conversation, "Last call for any wishing to sign up! Come forwards and have your name thrown in. We will be starting shortly!" Leaving the two men to their business, the Weyrleader approaches Dtirae and murmurs low, "Put your name in?" he asks curiously and maybe with a slight hint of amusement there. Among the arrivals now drifting in are several familiar faces, most to which he recognizes and acknowledges with a nod or even a smile. Spotting Kimmila by the refreshment tables though, he lifts his hand to wave the bluerider over.

Kimmila picks up a glass of wine and walks over to Th'ero, smiling and nodding to Zaala, Abigail and Borodin as she passes. "Hope you all will participate," she says cheerily, though there's a competitive undertone to her words at the same time. Nearing Th'ero, she holds out the wine and smiles to Dtirae. "Are you both going to wrestle?"

D'ani is here as well, having just walked up, hands in pockets all relaxed-like. He's been up since dawn, been down to the holdless camps and is only now taking a break, it looks like. He too, is in work clothes, though nothing obviously stained. Worn jeans and a leather belt hug his lean hips, his faded maroon cotton shirt is open at the neck, sleeves rolled up to forearms. On his head is a battered leather wide-brimmed hat, on his feet scuffed boots. He could be planning to work with the herdbeasts again, if the healers would only let him near them. He looks well-rested, so apparently late night dancing didn't do him any harm. He's aiming for where the Weyrleader is standing, but pauses where Abigail is and greets her with an easy, "Hey Damsel," and a grin. Borodin and Zaala are nodded to.

Abigail chuckles as she hears Zaala and just peers at her. "Really, is that how ye think of me Zaala?" A slight shake of her head seen. She doesn't see herself as a hero sort of person really. A glance is sent to her arms and she flexes slightly before just grinning as she lets her arms settle in front of her. "I wouldn't go all that far." She sends a smile to her brother and nods to him before a glance is sent to Kimmila. "I wasn't really planning on it." Well mud wrestling isn't high on her list it seems. "I've heard that too Zaala, maybe we're get lucky and some cute guy will lose his shirt?" Possible! Her pale gaze turns to D'ani and she chuckles softly. "Hey there." She doesn't mind the 'damsel' nickname anymore as he tends to use it often. There is a moment where she does peer at him, a soft hum escaping her before she grins. "So.. D'ani.. Ye going to wrestle?"

Dtirae glances over towards the two men with the clipboards, but quickly turns her attention back to the Weyrleader. His question is met with a grin and a nod, "of course." Grey eyes are, dancing with excitement. As the bluerider joins them, she gives a nod of affirmative. "I will be. Th'ero hasn't said if he's going to be or not." A curious glance towards the Weyrleader. The question goes unspoken, but it is certainly there.

Shirtless what? Borodin blinks up over the rim of his mug at Zaala, then lowers it with a little cough. What, no, he wasn't thinking about that. Or not thinking about that. Or, uh, what was he supposed to be thinking again? Clean mud wrestling thoughts, now! Like… him doing it? His eyes widen slightly at the suggestion from Kimmila, and he gives his head a brisk little shake before settling his gaze on Abbey. See? She's not doing it either. He's in good company! So he nods to her, giving her a smile. "Just like that hill behind the hold in spring, huh?" D'ani gets a nod, and then Borodin returns his gaze back nearby to say, "Uhm, hey Zaala."

Kimmila's remark has Zaala trailing her gaze after the bluerider, "I'll be doing the cheering," clearly, unless someone drags her into the mud, she'll be happily obliged to watch the dragonriders sully themselves in the pits. She smiles though, behind her lifted mug, regarding the weyrsecond as he passes her a nod, deciding to check him out in his work clothes, quite a drastic change from the previous night, everyone in work clothes. The damsel has her brow lifting, sending an inquiring look at Abigail, "Damsel…?" Hopefully Abigail will let her in on that little tid bit, D'ani was a good looking man after all. The notion of a cute guy losing his shirt is a hopeful image, which is why she's not looking to go diving head first into the pits herself. Borodin's nearby greeting has her smile casually in his direction, having missed his antics and inner demons of dirty thoughts, instead, she tilts her head, "Did the cook catch up to you last night? She totally got me… made me spend all night scrubbing pots for ducking out on service last night. I -should- be sleeping still." Sigh. Another sip or two of klah will hopefully cure that.

There's talk of cute guys losing their shirts while mud-wrestling. Is he going to wrestle? D'ani's mouth curls up into a smirk, a wink tossed to Abigail. "You… calling me cute?" He chuckles, waving her answer away. He's kidding obviously. "Nope. Shoulder. Remember?" He gestures ruefully to his still-healing collarbone-area. Too bad, he's worked wrestling heifers in mud enough - he ought to be good at it. He does chuckle at Borodin's sudden cough though because he's totally thinking it. And then Dtirae says she will be wrestling. Oh reaaaaally. This he's got to see! And not because of any possibility of shirt-losing… er… ness. "You should totally challenge the Weyrwoman, Weyrthird!" he calls to Kimmila. Instigator? Him? Oh you betcha!

Th'ero only smirks when Dtirae confirms that she has her name in the lists and then he snorts, but his tone is amused — even if a restricted sort of way. Give him time, he'll mellow out again! Or is it nerves? As Kimmila holds out the wine, the Weyrleader deftly plucks it from her hand and with his other free arm he slips it loosely around her, polite and respectful. "I have signed up," he confirms, gaze darting between the Weyrwoman and the bluerider. "And I'll assume you've tossed your name in too, Kimmila? Seeing as you missed out the first time." he murmurs, taking a sip of his wine.

Others approach the men with the clipboards, adding their names before moving off. At last it seems they have enough signed up and they pause to discuss and double check the pairings again. "The pairs have been decided and the wrestling is about to begin! All competitors are asked to remain close by and only approach once their names have been called!" the one man calls out again and his voice carries well once the conversations around him simmer down. There is a pause as he refers to his clipboard and then lifts his voice up once more. "First up: Dtirae and Kimmila!" That announcement earns a surprised ripple of murmuring among the crowds and a good dose of snickering and laughter. As for the Weyrleader? He's got his best poker face on — or his mind broke. Looks like D'ani's suggestion turned to correct prediction?

Kimmila looks around and flashes a crooked grin at D'ani. "You can count on it," she calls, her eyes zeroing in on Dtirae. "Shall we wager, Weyrwoman? Winner gets Th'ero's pants." Uh. What? And then she's slipping free of Th'ero's arm, setting her klah aside, slipping off her shoes and stepping into the ring. Squish, squelch, squish. Nose wrinkling, she can't help but laugh. "Let's show them how it's done, Dei."

"I'll tell ye about it at some point Zaala." Abigail offers to her friend at the whole damsel bit it seems. As for D'ani there is a slight pause. "Aye I remember." She remembers /very/ well thank you! As for the question on what she could have been calling him she winks back and chuckles. "Perhaps I am? Nothing wrong with that hum?" So much for the joking bits from them both. "Tis good ta see ye up and about though. Congratulations on the position by the way." A warm smile is seen as she says that, she didn't get a chance until now to actually talk to him on such things. "Yer do grand at it." Her gaze turns towards Kimmila and Dtirae are called out first, a soft oh escaping her.

Dtirae gives D'ani a look as he calls out to try and instigate something. Amusement lingers in that look before she's shifting attention to Th'ero. "Good. I'd like to see how the Weyrleader fares." In the mud. She's not really caring about the loss of shirts or otherwise. Then comes the announcement of the first pairing. A chuckle and she looks to Kimmila. "Why the shells would I want his pants?" None the less, she's following the lead of the bluerider and slipping off her shoes before stepping into the ring. Toes wiggle and the woman grins, "It's been so long since I've played in the mud. Don't go easy on me." Not that she expects the bluerider to.

Yeah, D'ani knows what Borodin's thinking. He gives the Weyrsecond a little sideways look at that chuckle, and smiles faintly. He's just as glad Zaala doesn't get it, though! "Oh, well… sort of," he says to her about the cook. "I mean, she didn't," lucky him, "but I ended up back there anyhow." He coughs a little, and looks aside and down like he doesn't want to talk about it. The shoe-staring (maybe he's checking out the quality of the mud?) lasts up until Th'ero announces the first match. That gets his attention, looking back up to Weyrwoman… and Weyrthird. "Oh. Uhm. That seems… interesting." Understatement. And… pants? Borodin's ears turn pink, but he keeps on watching!

"Let's hope they keep their shirts on," Zaala seems mildly disappointed at the first pairing, cause they're not men with ripped abs. She stays where she's at, not wanting a closer look, capable of cheering from where she stands. As for Borodin and the lack of conversation he wishes to bring up, she shrugs, and sips on more of her klah. Thank Faranth she didn't catch on to what the boys are thinking, too caught up in thinking it herself, evidently. As for Abigail, Zaala nods, not pushing the subject since the line on that has been drawn, half zoning out at the other's conversations.

"Those are not for wagering," Th'ero growls in mock (or is it?) anger to Kimmila, but his crooked smile says it all: he's doing his best to go with the joke, even if he's bristling a bit from the snickering from those who overheard the comment tossed by the bluerider. The Weyrleader sighs then, shaking his head. Will he ever live that down? Snorting, he shoots Dtirae a sidelong look that is almost thankful for her return remark and then he simply shrugs, "We'll see, Weyrwoman, if my name is even called." So there is a time limit it seems to the event! Moving away, he'll at least be able to make sure that Kimmila's mug of klah and her shoes will be there for her at the end of the match. Maybe that's his excuse for lingering so close to the ring? Sure it is. The two officials wait until both competitors enter, no doubt explaining the rules to them: keep it clean (har har), first to concede loses and if neither will it will be determined a draw. "When you're ready, begin!" One of the men tell them, followed by a signaled hand gesture. Go!

Kimmila laughs, giving Dtirae a crooked grin. "Have I ever gone easy on you?" she asks pointedly. The answer to that is a resounding no. "And I remember a time when you wanted his pants…" But talk time is over, and the bluerider lunges (as much as you can in the mud) to try and get a good grip on Dtirae's arms, and, since it is a mud fight, tries to topple them both into the mud. Might as well give people a show, right? And hey, Kimm totally has ripped abs. She's just not a man.

Abigail chuckles softly and smiles while nodding a moment to D'ani. "Aye, yer wecome. Thank ye as well." She lets the other go on to watch the match and she is curiously watching as well now. "So.. Who ye think will win Zaala?" She questions with a soft murmur to her friend, a glance is sent to her brother whom she leans over to poke at his arm. "Who ye think?" Yes she pulled him /right/ into the conversation.

Borodin's gaze follows D'ani heading for a better vantage point. He looks like he might be tempted to follow - after all, there's ripped abs that might lose the shirts over them! - but the force of social pressure keeps him where he is. He doesn't argue with Zaala, but his eyes are definitely on the match. It's curiosity! And… well… "Kimmila," he answers Abbey's question without hesitation. "I mean. Uh. It could be either." Sure, he can try to backpedal…

Dtirae nods in a very slight manner for that thankful look given by the Weyrleader. It's subtle, so subtle that it might not even be there! "No." A simple answer in response to Kimmila's question, though likely rhetorical. Nonetheless, the Weyrwoman is grinning widely. "I didn't actually want his pants." And the gesture to go is given. She can't exactly hold her ground in the mud, but, she'll grip Kimmila's arms in response and certainly tries to bring the woman to land in the mud first. It's safe to say, however, that both will likely go into the mud with both of them working towards the goal of toppling downwards.

Zaala, sensing the interest of her companions, rolls her eyes before she starts to follow after D'ani, "Better take a closer look if you're guessing on whose going to be the victor," she doesn't want Borodin to miss out on any uh, fun, yes. At least that'll keep them all in range of conversation with D'ani and Th'ero, maybe even in range of hearing what's going on in the ring. To Abigail, she shrugs, "I don't know-" this said as Kimmila tries to pull Dtirae down into the mud, listening to Borodin's assured answer, "Hrm, sounds like you're confident in that. I best go with Kimmila myself then."

Ripped abs nothing! There's…! Nevermind. Mud-plastered bodies are quuuuite enough, thankyouverymuch! Besides, D'ani is all about the eyes! Mostly. Partially. Somewhat. *cough* Really he's just got to see if Dtirae's boast holds water, even though Kimmila is not a man, she's as good as one, right? The Weyrsecond wants to see if the harmless-looking (to him) Weyrwoman can take the Weyrthird down. Uh… right? Lets just stop while we're ahead and assume that since there's no jello-wrestling on Pern, this will have to suffice. He'll suffer.

Th'ero will linger by the sidelines, his features carefully schooled to a neutral look of curiosity — for now. As Kimmila makes the first move though, the Weyrleader's mouth quirks up into a small smile. No guesses as to where any of his wagering will be going. Sensing the approach of others trying to vie for a good vantage point, he shifts a bit and as he turns his head, catches the glimpse of a familiar face approaching. "Afternoon, D'ani," he drawls, his tone as distracted as his constant darting glance back to the Weyrwoman and Weyrthird wrestling away in the mud. Ahem. "So…" This isn't awkward. Nope. "How has your morning been?" Probably not the time for casual conversation but Th'ero makes the attempt at something rather than his usual stoic silence. Not that his attention is all that focused on the Weyrsecond, clearly drifting and often until Th'ero realizes he's staring into the ring and promptly looks elsewhere. Cough. And a show they do give! As Dtirae and Kimmila begin to wrestle, there are calls of encouragement for either rider, followed by cheers and laughter and maybe a few cheeky remarks, all tasteful and wisely so.

Abigail chuckles and grins at Borodin before giving him a slight poke at the arm. "Sok." I sent towards him not going to push the matter it seems. She stands put near Zaala and Borodin watching the 'show' it would seem, though she doesn't go about offering up 'who' might win just yet it would seem.

Kimmila takes Dtirae down into the mud and what follows is…mud wrestling. How else to describe it? The bluerider laughs and yells as she tries to get a grip on the Weyrwoman, slithering her body all over the other woman's in an attempt to pin her down. There's really no style to it, it's just grab a hold of something and try to make it work! And Kimmila will fight fair, but she won't go easy on the Weyrwoman, as promised.

And this is tasteful staring Borodin is doing. Honest! He takes that opportunity Zaala provides to move closer, because… it's not awkward if he's doing it with company, right? "It…" Words. He has words! "I could be wrong," he murmurs to Zaala. That's why he has to watch! And he could totally make some jello. Boil some bones, add some pureed fruit and dye… entirely possible. Just saying. Anything's possible.

Zaala totally needs popcorn or something right now, or booze… mud wrestling isn't mud wrestling without! Alas, she's just got her klah and observes like the rest of the crowd, giggling with wry amusement as the pair of dragonriders go at it. "Right or wrong, I'm not putting any marks on it," she responds to Borodin, looking between brother and sister, then back to the ring. She joins in the tasteful staring of the combatants and is mindful of any splash back.

How does Th'ero do it?! D'ani has no idea! His own face is a curious mixture of elation and GO GET 'EM TIGER!!! It's a competition first and foremost, and he's caught up in the excitement of that. He's seen Kimmila fight, but not Dtirae, so he's at a total loss as to where he'd wager. Th'ero's distracted? NO WONDER! "Afternoon," he answers with barely a glance (in fact, his eyes are riveted to that mudpit). How DOES Th'ero tear his eyes away??? "Uh, uhm… not this interesting," he admits a tough breathlessly. I mean, how can you top mudwrestling ladies? Probably can't? At least he's not among the raucous calls going out. Nope, he might pass out though! Because there's mud! And slithering!

Mud wrestling indeed. They are the first into the pit, thus, the first to fling the mud in places that are not the pit. And, maybe the Weyrwoman is exaggerating some of her movements. Maybe not. But, Dtirae fights fair, at least! She's not going on easy on the bluerider, either and she certainly isn't going down without a fight.

Sheer willpower? Who knows how Th'ero does it, but whatever his method it's failing. There is mud, there is slithering and wrestling and even the Weyrleader cannot help but stare. Is it tasteful? Probably not. Not wholly, anyways. For once he welcomes the distracted reply from D'ani and does not press for any further conversation, save for a near grunted, "Interesting." in reply. Very interesting. There are no cheers or calls from Th'ero either but that should be no big surprise. Plenty of other voices make up for the lack of his or the Weyrsecond's, cheers and shouts erupting as the wrestling continues. It would seem no winner is easily discernible however and one of those officials (no doubt jarred back to his duties by a nudge to the side — focus, man, focus!) steps forwards at last and lifts his hand up in a clear hand signal. "Match determined by tie!" he calls out in a loud, ringing voice.

Abigail shakes her head a touch, a soft chuckle escaping her while she watches looking amused wih a soft hum escaping her as a result as the match goes on. "It's a good match. There rather equal in it." She ponders this and will make it a point to not get into a scuffle with either of the other women if she gets a choice. There is a pause as the fight is called a tie?

Kimmila is covered from head to toe in mud, and when the match is ended she has to shake her head a bit in order to try and see. "I'll take a tie," she says with a laugh, reaching down to try and help Dtirae up. Try to help each other up, unless it fails and they fall down again. Grinning and panting, Kimmila starts to make her way out of the ring and towards the lake for a quick dip, despite the cold temperatures. Hope she doesn't catch a cold.

A tie? Oh. Borodin was going to call it a win, for… uh… "Oh." He glances to D'ani. "You, uhm, should have saved your bet from before. For this." And the Weyrsecond would have won! More than… uh. Moving right along now. Borodin looks to Abbey, then to Zaala, then back to the contestants as Kimmila departs the ring. "Uh. Yeah. Good… good match."

With the call for a tie, Dtirae laughs and attempts to push the mud from her face. But, her hands are muddy, so, it does nothing to help. Good thing her hair is tied back, otherwise she'd be in worse shape. "Tie works for me." She agrees and takes Kimmila's attempt to help. There are a few slips on the Weyrwoman's part as she makes her way out of the ring, but, at least she's laughing. Unlike Kimmila, however, she's content to remain mud soaked.

Is Zaala the only one that is gaping at the word tie here? She snorts a little, keeping her sarcasim for now, to herself. Instead, she sips at the klah, leaving comments to those around her, avoiding any mud splattering thankfully. At least the mud slithering was enjoyed by most of the spectators. "You should enter," a half nudge to Borodin, eyeing him with a challenge behind her blue gaze.

Interesting is the polite way to put it. And ingrained manners dictate that D'ani couch his observation and reply in polite term. It's… well it's riveting, that's what it is, this mud wrestling. Flung droplets of mud spatter him; his hand lifts to swipe his cheek absently, almost automatically. A tie, the judges say. Oops? He… almost forgot it was a competition? The Weyrsecond is admiring both efforts with a belated clapping. "Nice effort!" (You both look totally HOT). Nono, he won't say that aloud. Noper. Borodin's comment recalls him and he laughs, "Indeed," he agrees, though win… so loosely defined here! The Weyrwoman slip-sliding can't be left to struggle, right? So he offers her a hand out of the ring.

The dip to the lake may not be necessary, as there are those waiting with some soaked (and warmed!) towels for those who do compete. One will likely try to intercept Kimmila before she chills herself in the lake and another will approach the Weyrwoman sheepishly and likely not make eye contact save to hold up the towels in offering. Here you go! Th'ero stays where he is as the match is determined as a tie but notably his eyes will follow as the two women part ways and the bluerider heads off towards the water. What, no greeting? The Weyrleader leaves it to D'ani to step forwards to help Dtirae and tearing his gaze away from where Kimmila has wandered off to, he seems to at last find his voice. "Well matched!" he chimes in with his own two cents and awkwardly cannot add anything more to that. Was it a competition? Shaking his head as if to clear it, Th'ero feigns interest in his now empty wine glass.

With the ring cleared, the officials meet briefly again to go over the lists and for a moment the two men seem to debate something in hushed tones. They come to a decision though and stepping away, the one goes on to call out the next match. "Second match to begin!" A pause, for effect of course! "Abigail…" Wait, what? The Wingsecond may have a few of her Wingriders to thank (or punish) later for that trick. One is even boldly grinning right at her! Maybe they want extra sweeps for the next dozen Turns? "…and Th'ero!" That stirs the spectators to a frenzy of murmured and whispered conversations. The Weyrleader is taken by surprise, not so much by his name called but who is paired to him and he can only stand there, awkwardly and perhaps a touch conflicted. Do they have the option to back out? Maybe, but Th'ero doesn't seem to consider it and instead he only crouches to unlace his boots and then kick them off. Might as well get this over with!

Kimmila is intercepted, and with a laugh she gratefully accepts the towels and returns to the ringside, grinning and clearly happy. She enjoyed herself! Pulling at her clothes, she tries to loosen them from her body but it doesn't work all that well. At the call of Abigail and Th'ero though, the bluerider looks surprised and then laughs, her keen eyes focusing closely on the wingsecond. Well well well. "Get her," Kimmila offers, stepping up beside Th'ero and nodding to the pit. "Watch the middle bit," she murmurs. "It's slippery." No duh.

D'ani's offered hand is taken and Dtirae is good enough not to pull him into the mud. She's got enough mud on her to do some damage, if she wants. But, instead she smiles. "Thank you, dashing." Oh look, she's given him (another) nickname. Though, she doesn't tease him about watching. "Did you enter, D'ani?" When someone approaches with warm towels, the Weyrwoman takes one and begins to clean herself of the mud. Now she can see clearly! The next pair earns a chuckle, "do your best." This is called out to both Wingsecond and Weyrleader. She won't pick favorites!

Nooo, Borodin has (somehow!) managed to keep his jaw from hitting the floor at the wrestling match- er, the word tie. So it might just be Zaala! Speaking of her, "What?" The word's almost absent, and then more of his brain catches up. "Me?" He actually looks over at her. "Oh, uhm, that wouldn't… it wouldn't be very interesting. Not a good show. Not at all." Borodin shakes his head. Nope. Not him. Whyever would anyone want to look at that? "Besides, I'd lose." That part is practically an afterthought. There is supposed to be some sort of competition to this, right? He vaguely remembers something of the sort. Regardless, he doesn't move to stick his own name on the list. Nope! He's safely out of it, just like the rest of this little cluster… or… not. He blinks as his sister's name is called, turning to look at Abbey. "Didn't…" she say she wasn't? And yet, it seems she's to be wrestling! "Uhm. Good luck?"

Abigail offers a smile to both Kimmila and Dtirae. "Good match the both of ye!" She calls out to the pair, she is about to say something to Zaala before she hears her name being called. There is a pause and she blinks while looking towards the ones in her wing, mostly at a certain one that is grinning at her. "Really?…." This is basically hissed out. Oh he had better hope she is unable to chase after him. When Th'ero's name is also called she sends a glance towards the Weyrleader, a soft ah escapes her. Wait now; this wasn't part of the deal! She is even given a faint push forward before she is moving. "Thanks.." Is offered to Borodin while she goes about pulling her hair back out of the way once her boots are off as she moves towards the mud pit. As for looking at Th'ero she isn't too sure she can at the moment.

Zaala lifts a brow, "You'd stand a chance," ever heard of heavy weights? Nope she wasn't going to come out and say that, though the cook could definitely take on any of these scrawny men easily enough and keep ground, maybe. She'd take that wager. "I'd think it'd be a good show," arms cross and everything, mug in hand still. It does surprise her though to hear Abigail's name caleld to the lists, eyes bouncing over toward the girl, "Kick his butt Abigail and pinch it too while you're at it," she whoots, encouraging the wingsecond to get on up there and duke it out with the Weyrleader.

Clothes. Plastered to bodies. D'ani's totally oblivious to that, right? Not a chance, man. In spite of this, Dtirae is gallantly helped to regain her footage and the Weyrsecond (with great effort) keeps his eyes on her face. Dashing he accepts with a chuckle (how can he be self-conscious with all this distraction?) "You missed a spot," he says reaching for the corner of her towel and using it on the tip of her nose. "No, the healers would slay me," is his answer for entering, a headtilt towards his half-healed arrow wound near his right shoulder to remind her of his incapacity. He's an invalid! Play the violins! But wait. Abigail versus the Weyrleader? OH gosh. Talk about hot. Not that… D'ani is thinking of wrestling anyone (woman) in particular (were he able). *cough*

Nope. Borodin chooses to disbelieve Zaala about his chances, despite the fact that she's probably right. He gives his head another shake, firm up until… what. A good show. Him? His head stops shaking just to look at her. More like stare at her, really. (What? It's not like he needs to gawk at this next match. That's his SISTER we're talking about.) "Well, uhm." Quick! Come up with another excuse. "They said the entry was closed." Sorry, see, he can't! He'd love to, of course, but… "So, uhm. Next time." He'll totally do it next time. "…maybe." Or maybe not. His gaze is dragged from Zaala in order to watch the upcoming match. He's got to cheer for Abigail, after all! And… maybe eye D'ani a little. His. Sister.

Th'ero tilts his head to look up at Kimmila as she joins him and he quirks a brow. Get her? He only shakes his head, chuckling dryly (or is it nervously?) and then pushes to his feet to straighten. "Isn't it all slippery?" he drawls with obvious sarcasm, giving her a lopsided smirk that soon shifts into a wry smile. "But thanks for the warning." Maybe he would have gone to pull her close but… muddy clothing. Which he really shouldn't care about at this point — he's about to get covered. Boots nudged aside, Th'ero then proceeds to… slip off his tunic? Sorry ladies, he is wearing an undershirt, not that it leaves much to the imagination. Folding the tunic, he sets it with his boots and then exhales softly. Well… no backing out now and he gives Kimmila a sidelong look and a bit of a strained smile before he's moving off. Abigail will be spared any lingering look either as Th'ero approaches the ring. He only glances up long enough to greet her, nodding. "Abigail." So. Awkward. Poor Wingsecond. Without pause, the Weyrleader steps into the ring and then turns to face his opponent. Competition, right? Yeah… sure. And there better be no pinching! That'd be a very bad idea. As for those Wingriders, they had a good laugh but they may be regretting their actions now and if not now, they will later.

Kimmila walks over to stand beside the others, watching the match begin. Still wiping at mud from her face and hair and…well…everywhere that's descent to wipe with a towel in public, she has to signal for a second towel though this one she just drapes around her shoulders. "You know, D'ani," she says aside to the Weyrsecond, "I was injured for the last mud wrestling competition. Perhaps you'll be able to make it into the next one." She would love to see that. "You and Th'ero, perhaps. Eh, Dtirae? That'd be a good match, don't you think?" She then turns her head when someone in the crowd hollers, "Take it ALL off!" to the competitors, and another person immediately fires back, "Which one of them are you talking to?" And the answer is predictable: "Both!" Kimmila just laughs. If she's upset or possessive over Th'ero wrestling with Abigial it's not showing at all. No, she looks to be enjoying herself quite a lot.

Dtirae's nose wrinkles just a bit as D'ani points out that a spot has been missed. It just so happens to be on her nose. "Thanks." And then, a tilt to his shoulder and she tsks softly. "Ah, right. That's a shame. Maybe we can have a match later." She teases, giving the bronzerider a gentle nudge before her attention turns to the next pair as she continues to clean off as much mud as possible. As Kimmila makes commentary, the Weyrwoman's attention shifts to the bluerider with a grin. "Certainly. Weyrleader and Weyrsecond, going at it. Maybe shirtless, even." Her grin certainly takes a mischievous turn, there. Calls from the crowd earn laughter and she merely shakes her head.

Abigail is still having some problems with the whole idea of being in a mud pit wrestling of all people Th'ero. She is eyeing that patch of mud before her as if it is very important, looks like she is taking a tip from Borodin here to get to know the mud perhaps? Her pale gaze flicks over to Th'ero once he is stepping into the mud, oh well so much for the idea of this really not happening. A smile is seen along with a nod. "Sir." Is offered with a soft tone, awkward is not even the beginning of what is going through her mind at the moment is getting over to the fact that this is going to happen! There is a pause, and well then another who moves first? No she will not be pinching Th'ero thank you! There is a few more moments passing before she shifts to the side to see which way the other may go before thinking about how to start this 'fight' it seems.

The next one. With Th'ero. That comment from Kimmila nearly has D'ani choking. Perhaps the idea will invade his dreams (nightmares) though - there's no telling. Oh then Dtirae- Nono. He won't comment, just grins rakishly at her, accepting her shoulder bump regardless of the mud that now stains his shoulder where she nudged it. He's (barely) kept from leering up to this point and - is that a glance flickered to Borodin? - he refrains from doing so now as Abigail and Th'ero square off. Instead he signals for an extra towel and drapes it over Dtirae's shoulders. Yanno. Because she looks cold. And stuff.

"Suit yourself, but I think you would've proven yourself out there," Zaala remarks to Borodin, saying nothing more on the subject because she's getting distracted and not with the mud wrestling. Her attention is drifting back the way she came, maybe feeling a little tired from a nights worth of scrubbing pots. Either way, she stays for now, wanting to support Abigail with a sudden cheer or two, "Jump on his back!" As if that'd take him down. Hah.

Th'ero only looks out towards the crowds once when he overhears some of what is hollered and suggested and promptly rolls his eyes, grimacing. That's not annoyance though! Maybe the Weyrleader IS really amused by all this. When he isn't (inwardly) squirming with awkwardness. Not that he doesn't think Abigail a worthwhile match, as she most likely is. His issue comes down to the fact that well… it should be obvious! The officials call out again, "When ready!" And the signal falls — and the Weyrleader doesn't move. Cold feet? No, he's swiftly trying to figure out a course of action while Abigail likewise is trying to sense out the same. Th'ero takes the lead though and surges forwards, using the mud to his advantage to 'slide' to dodge around Abigail at the last moment and then attempt to hook her feet out from under her. If that doesn't work, he'll try to close in and grip her arm and attempt to twist her down instead, which may just end up with him sprawled in the mud for all his efforts. Jumping on his back might actually be a worthwhile thing to attempt at this rate!

Kimmila looks rather smug. Rather proud. That's her sexy weyrmate out there. She flashes Dtirae a grin and a nod. "Shirtless for sure. It'd be a great bonding exercise for them. Good team building." Or something. Maybe (probably) she just wants the eye candy, as she hasn't once taken her eyes off of Th'ero from the moment he stepped into the ring. And let's be honest, D'ani is pretty sexy too. While the men seemed intent on pretending they weren't looking, Kimmila steps closer and shifts her position to get an even /better/ view. Oh yeah. That's the stuff. When the match begins the bluerider lets out an energetic "WHOOP!" sound.

Dtirae returns that grin D'ani gives her all the same. The extra towel draped around her shoulders is accepted without protest and she shifts to have it cover her a little bit more. It's warm! "Agreed. Bonding exercise and team building." Not that they need to be /shirtless/ to do that, but, the Weyrwoman can make up rules if she wants to. Dtirae's gaze doesn't linger on the match too long, only drifting back for key points and to check on the progress. She has no intention of ogling the Weyrleader or Wingsecond. Instead, most of her focus goes onto D'ani. "Been having a nice day?" Isn't that similar to what the Weyrleader asked earlier?

Abigail is clearly amused as she hears 'jump on his back' bit. Well that is an idea that may have crossed her mind seeing how this place is a mud pit after all. Once the word is given she smirks just a bit, no turning back down. There is a slight pause while she catches the movement from Th'ero and she uses that mud to her advantage and is about to turn sliding back a few steps and thus out of the way of any hook to her leg. She isn't going down easily that is for sure. Her arm is grabbed but she doesn't see this is a problem while she turns about sharply, slipping a few inches to the side and makes a move to try and hook her leg around the weyrleader's an yank his leg to the side while she use her gripped arm to give him a slight push hoping perhaps she can get him to either move away to perhaps fall backwards if she gets a bit of luck. Everyone watching is ignored for the time being.

Bonding. Team building. Gak! No, that strangled sound tooootally didn't come from D'ani upon hearing Kimmila, did it? He's keeping (most) of his attention on the Weyrwoman for the moment. Becaaaaause she's asking him stuff - really! Totally why he's keeping his eyes away from the awkwardness in the mudpit, right? "Oh… yes," he answers her and then back-pedals. "I mean, it was alright but got bet-" He sighs. Not what he- Yes, completely what he meant but not what he meant to say. "How's yours been?" His eyes flick to the wrestling match, jerk away, returning to the Weyrwoman's. A hand lifts to rub the back of his neck. Dremkoth is SO gonna get it later for that mental snigger!

Maybe this will be another match determined by tie? Neither of Th'ero's tactics seem to pan out entirely as he had hoped and then Abigail's trying to do the same to him — and she manages to pull it off. Or in this case, pull his leg out from under him. He tries to evade but the mud makes footing questionable at best (wasn't that something Kimmila tried to warn him on?) and before he can gain balance he's toppled backwards. Not that he stays down, oh no. That'd be too easy! It means more mud to cover him, but Th'ero rolls away and then back onto his feet, shooting Abigail a narrowed look along with a crooked smirk. Nice play! His turn. Nothing graceful either, he just charges forwards and full on tackles her in an attempt to take her down. Let the actual wrestling begin!

Kimmila whistles softly, leaning forward to watch the match very attentively, grimacing when Th'ero goes down.

Dtirae laughs at D'ani's response, grinning widely. "Mine has been getting better since I've gotten out of bed. Frankly, nothing will bring me down today." Except for a mass riot or something. She's watching D'ani, then her gaze flickers towards the match as his does. Then, the Weyrwoman leans closer to the bronzerider and whispers something to him. Her gaze flickers back to the match and a look of surprise is creeping into her features, brows lifting.

The Weyrwoman's day has been getting better…? "Well, aren't you the chipper one tod-" Blink. What was that? D'ani takes all of three seconds to absorb that question - the second such posed to him in less than twenty-four hours about two different women, no less. He can't help it: he laughs. "No," he answers brief and to the point, though he's not sure if he dares ask where the question came from. Awkward. But not as awkward as Kimmila's comment about hin having to someday wrestle Th'ero!

Zaala watches for a while longer but something seems to have preoccupied her mind… maybe some of the lower cavern boys or something? Either way, she's excusing herself from Borodin's company with one last whoop for Abigail on her way out. Otherwise, she's slipping away for now from the mud wrestling scene.

Abigail grins just a moment as she watches as Th'ero is falling? Perhaps, she has the upper hand? No it wouldn't be that easy now would it. She shifts moving back and she eyes him right back at that narrowed look with a 'what'? So now they are plenty the game of circling one another to see who might mess up? Possible! Though everything is about to change as the weyrleader is now lunging at her and a half surprised yelp escapes her as she is sent backwards into the mud which sends it splashing a bit as a results. Well isn't this fun? She isn't down yet though, and is struggling to try and get away from him, not that it is working with them just getting well muddy so to speak. She soon gives up and a laugh escapes her. "Alright.. I give.." Now she has mud in places she doesn't want to think about, and that is most likely why she really gives in mind you.

Mud, mud everywhere! And definitely in places it shouldn't be. The moment Abigail concedes, Th'ero backs off, slipping and sliding back and maybe that is a bit of laughter under his breath. Maybe. Cheers go up, along with a few comments and applause while the officials step forwards with one to signal and the other to call out, "Win goes to Th'ero!" Not one to boast (was it ever really a competition?), the Weyrleader pulls himself to his feet and then offers one very muddy hand to Abigail. "Good match," he tells her and should she take his hand he will help her to her feet before backing away again. Wrestling is done, time for respectful distance to resume! Shaking out his hands and arms, he tries to clear some of the mud from his face, only to smear it worse then before and he mutters a few curses under his breath. "Don't know about you, but I've had enough of this for one day…" he drawls to the Wingsecond and then gestures for her to head out of the ring first. He'll follow of course, but his path will veer sharply to where he has left his boots and tunic and, of course, his weyrmate. Shivering a bit from the chill air, he'll accept one of those warm towels gratefully when one is offered to him and attempt to take the worst of the mud off. Meanwhile, the officials are already working on calling out another pair and from the cheers that rise up, it's another awkwardly matched pair. One has to begin to wonder if these aren't purposely rigged!

"Of course." D'ani doesn't need to finish that statement to get an answer from Dtirae. She gives him a curious look as he laughs and the answer that follows is met with a chuckle. "Alright. You're a hard man to figure out." She notes, her tone idle as if she were just commenting about the weather. She leaves it at that, attention drifting back to the match. When Abigail concedes, the Weyrwoman claps. "Good effort Abigail!" A grin for the Wingsecond, clearly proud of the other woman. A nod to Th'ero, alongside another grin. The Weyrwoman is all sorts of pleased today!

It's quite possible that they are. Maximum entertainment value and all. Kimmila, being partly clean now, has wrapped up Th'ero's boots and tunic into another clean towel which she holds out to him. "Bath?" she suggests, both wry and hopeful. And assuming he agrees (and really, why would he turn down a bath right now?), Kimmila waves farewell to the others and walks back to the Weyrleader's weyr with said Weyrleader in tow.

'The World of Pern(tm)' and 'The Dragonriders of Pern(r)' are copyright to Anne McCaffrey (c) l967, 2000. This is a recorded online session, by permission of the author but generated on PernWorld MUSH for the benefit of people unable to attend.