Fort Weyr - Living Caverns
This cavern, having been created by bubbles in the volcanic flow of this extinct volcano, has a breathtaking ceiling — a vast dome that arches high above the heads of the weyrfolk that scurry around beneath it. A hollow echo can be heard from loud enough noises, and the chatterings of various firelizards are consequently multiplied into a chaotic babble. All in all, the living cavern is a loud place.

Tables are scattered around the room, apparently in no particular order. Over to one side near the kitchens, two medium sized serving tables are constantly spread with snacks, klah, and other goodies. The tables look worn, yet perfectly fitted to the atmosphere of the caverns. In the 'corners' of the cavern, smaller two and four place tables are set up for more private talks or just a less chaotic atmosphere in which to eat.

"Careful," Fynn murmurs in gentle response to the nearly-bumping-intp Mikal, giving the similarly-damp youth a soft smile. "I-I don't, um, care much for gossiping either." His shoulders are given a shrug, and he cants his head to invite the younger lad along with him to the living caverns. "Are you hungry?"

"Oops, sorry!" Mikal says quickly. He casts a backwards, unhappy glance. "Yeah…they weren't very nice either." he is still grumbly. "Asking me why the 'nannies' let me out so late." he hmphs a bit before his grumbling is diverted. "I'm always hungry. What do they have out?"

Fynnigan plods on over to the food table, eying what's on offer. "Meatrolls and sweetrolls, and some, um… sandwiches? I'm not sure what's… oh, maybe it's cheese? Cheese sandwiches." He helps himself to a couple, adding a meatroll to his plate too. "Th-that's kinda rude, for them to say that."

Mikal clearly thought so too but the tempting food is helping fix that. "I aint so young. Nearly 13 now anyways." some meatrolls are grabbed and a couple sweetrolls for good measure are piled on. "Mm, I love cheese." cubes of cheese get added to the plate. One the plates filled up enough for the growing youth he pours two cups of juice. "Pick a seat!" he says to the older candidate, balancing his plate and two cups.

Fynnigan does pick a seat! It's at an otherwise empty table, and he slips into place with his plate in front of him, and a glass of juice beside it. "I didn't have a nanny when I was 13. Maybe… m-maybe they're just too immature, and still needed nannies when /they/ were 13?"

Mikal hmms. He had poured a second glass not seeing Fynn already had one. No matter, more for him! He joins Fynnigan in taking a seat, choosing one across from him. "I certainly don't have a nanny. Especially since I'm sleeping in the Candidate barracks." a large bite of sweet roll is taken first. "Whoever said it wasn't a candidate cause I didn't recognize her. And those other guys were practically ignoring me just to talk some gossip about some candidates having sex." he makes a face.

Why's going to say no to /two/ glasses? Not Fynn! He downs the one he carried over in a couple of gulps anyway, then nudges it slightly to the side. "That… that girl sitting in there, the one who isn't a candidate? She can't very nice to me when we met, either. I've, um… avoided her. Since then. She… she doesn't seem a very nice person."

Sliiiiiding the second glass over when Mikal notes Fynn's glass is now empty. That takes care of that. "Who is it?" he asks though clearly he's making a mental image of her with intentions to avoid her in the future. "You done eggs touchings yet? I heard they were doing groups. Today I went over with the group over to the Weavercraft hall. They showed us how they start a big ol' tapestry."

Fynnigan shrugs his shoulders and shakes his head in response to the question. "I'm not sure who she is… um, I think someone said something starting with, maybe, um, Z? I'm not sure, though." He nibbles on a sandwich, then smiles. "Yeah! We had a touching… I liked the eggs I got to know. Apart from the last one, though… that one was a bit, um… headachey? It gave me a headache. Was the Weavercraft fun?" He pulls off a piece of sweetroll to nibble at it, before continuing, "I was here with the Smiths today. We learnt how they forge things. I… I quite like it, actually."

Mikal doesn't nibble much but he is getting better about swallowing the mouthful of food before speaking next. "Well I don't like her. Not if she's mean to you /and/ me." it's official in Mikal's eyes! "Oooh, you did? I've not had a touching yet. I'm excited and nervous about it cause i've never ever been that close to the eggs before. I mean sure I've seen plenty of clutches hatch at Ista but…" clearly not the same thing to him. "A headache? Really? From what? What did you feel?" he leans back, sipping at his juice. "I thought it was quite interesting too when I visited the Smiths. More so than the girly stuff of making tapestries."

Fynnigan grins down at his plate. "This is the first time I've ever seen eggs," he admits quietly, before looking up at Mikal with a smile that's slightly embarrassed. "I was only in Western Weyr for a short while, but before… I-I'd never been in a Weyr. So… so touching the eggs was special, even if that one made me feel…" He pauses to think of the words to describe his memory. "Sort of… dizzy? Like it was /really/ busy inside the shell."

Mikal casts an encouraging grin towards Fynnigan. "That's good that your first time on the Sands was so special then!" he says enthusiastically. "Hey, we should try to stand by each other. Out there in the SAnds when the eggs hatch."

"I'd like that," Fynn replies with a nod of his head. "You… um, you haven't stood before, then? Since you said… about the, er, the eggs, and not - not y'know?" He bites off a mouthful of sandwich yumminess, then swallows. "I've, um, heard stories… about when they hatch."

Mikal shakes his head. "Never Stood, nope. I've heard stories too but most of 'em are just stories. You /do/ need to be on your toes though to move quickly out of their way if they lunge towards you. Honestly though it's common sense. I mean who doesn't move when something with claws and teeth is lunging towards you?!"

Fynnigan snorts a little laugh. "Y-yeah, you'd move. You'd move pretty fast too, I think. I wouldn't stay still, I know that!" He chuckles, wiggling his remaining sweetroll at Mikal. "Have you imagined what you might be like? As a rider? What… what colour you might Impress?"

Mikal polishes off the rest of his own plate of food. It certainly takes a lot to feed a growing boy! "Oh sure i've thought about it. Pictured me atop a big ol' bronze…" he sails his hand over his head, eyes staring off across the cavern at the imaginary dragon. "Or maybe a smaller brown. Doing daring rescues in the mountains or off in the oceans!" again his hand moves as he talks. "There's so much and to be never alone again…" now his voice drops to a murmur. "I can't really imagine. The dragons choose and shards if I know what they see that the rest of us don't." a shoulder lifts in a shrug. "My brother Impressed and I thought he was a bit of a bully." a yawn cracks his jaws nearly in two. "I've early chores in the infirmary tomorrow. I should get some sleep. If I can with that person snoring beside me!" he stands, picking up his empty dishes to dispose of. "Don't you worry none. I bet we'll both do good on the Sands."

"I-I'd like to do search and rescue. Western's rescue riders saved me and the crew… I'd like to be able to do that, too." Fynnigan nods his head - there's seriousness there! Then, as Mikal starts to say goodnight, he stands up and nods his head at the youngster. It's a proper, polite goodbye, naturally. "We'll both do what we're meant to do," he says with a nod of his head. "Thanks for joining me for dinner, Mikal. You've… you've been very nice to me, since I got here. Th-thank you."

Mikal casts a crooked grin. He's a weyrbrat yes but he's a friendly one! "You're welcome. Don't make sense /not/ to be nice! Maybe if neither one of us Impress here you can come back to Xanadu with me. No one there to be mean to ya!" with a jaunty wave he heads out into the bowl.

'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.