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Lovie's not cooperating well.

7775. She's into the suspicion stage.

9230. Dammit, I'm close. And I think trying one last time to call Darkside trumps any more active writing time I get. I think I got at least close enough for ... something. Close enough for pretty flowers.
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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