A shrill, piercing alarm resounded through the Weyr, waking Damari from a light slumber. He sighed, and turned over, eyes closed against the dawn light. Beside him, Keylyn burrowed under the covers, cold in the early morning chill. 
   Threadfall, rider mine! Up! Elcayleth's statement was almost terse, startling Damari into arising. His clouded green crouched in the entrance to their weyr; now, she turned to him, eyes whirling orange. 
   "Can't be, 'Cayle," Keylyn protested, unwilling to quit the warmth of the weyr. "Thread isn't scheduled for another two days." 
   She is right, Key, Light blue Sekayth interjected. It matters not what has been scheduled.
   Damari grinned, and tossed the wherhide riding gear at his weyrmate. "That's right, Keylyn; after all, 'Dragonmen must fly when Threads are in the sky.'" 
   Keylyn frowned. "Don't quote lyrics to a harper, Dami. You don't have to fly Fall." 
   Which was true... With Angeoria's approval, Damari had decided that his own talents would be better used on the ground, where he could live up to his title as Weyrhealer. Something that he had been secretly happy about; he disliked the thought of his beautiful 'Cayle becoming sterile. Although fairly large for a green, she was also calm and unaggressive, and was better suited to helping her rider when Thread scored dragon wings. 

---

   Although Damari preferred healing to charring the silver rain, the waiting made him tense. Likely, the Fall would be flown without mishap; Angeoria, as leader of the queen's wing, and Fr'dyre, who led the fighting dragons, were both experienced wingleaders, while the dragon-bonded wing worked as a seamless team. However, he could nor help thinking... Elcayleth was not helping, either. She had become irritable, instead of maintaining her normal gentle and peaceful personality. He wondered offhandedly what was wrong with the pale, clouded green. 
   A dragon's scream cut through his mind like shards of glass. And, as 'Cayle crooned a sympathetic response, he knew who had been injured, even before the blue-and-white hide became visible in the sky. 
   He vaulted to Elcayleth's back, wishing fervently that Akelei was here, instead of with Tuiath at Morning Star. Yet his bondmate seemed to act on instinct, darting below the falling blue. He thanked Faranth yet again that she was larger than most of her color, as the strong wings buoyed up Sekayth, checking his fall. 
   When they were several meters apart, Keylyn leapt down, eyes wide with fear and worry. Damari felt his own breath catch, until he noticed that her safety strap was still secured to her blue's harness. As she seating herself behind him, he returned his attention to his green. 'Cayle, be strong. We've got to get him safely down.
   She made a valiant attempt, but he knew she had difficulty supporting the larger blue. Sekayth? I know you're hurt... but please, you need to glide down. We can't hold you alone.
   The Light blue did not reply, but the searing pain was apparent to Damari, who had spent so long with the harper and her dragon. However, Sekayth disengaged himself from Elcayleth's grasp, and awkwardly glided down, to land in the bay enclosed by Abri's peninsula. 
   Her own wings freed, Elcayleth backwinged to land on the beach, commenting: He thought well. I do not think he could have landed on in the Bowl, but it is safe to glide into water.
   Damari nodded, as he helped Keylyn to the ground. Yes. 'Cayle, calm him. He turned back to Keylyn, and held her for a moment, until her convulsive shaking stopped. "Were you hurt, Key?" 
   She shook her head, eyes wide. "No. But my Se' hurts, so much..." 
   Damari bit his lip, and hugged her close. "He'll be ok, Key. But we'll probably need your help. 

---

   Hours later, Damari stepped away from his patient, eyes weary. The blue had taken a deep scoring across his left flank, as well as lacing across his blue-faded-white wings. According to Keylyn, they had come out of between and been scored by a clump that shoulc not have been there... Maybe something to do with the odd Fall. 
   It had taken Elcayleth's persuasion and comfort, as well as both riders' skills, to patch Sekayth up. Now, body slathered with numbweed, Sekayth slept deeply, having been administered a dragon-sized draught of fellis. His rider, equally tired, lay curled in her bond's forelegs. 
   You did wonderfully, 'Cayle, he told her now. 
   Yes. But... I would like a change, now. Can we not go somewhere else, away from the annoying males?
   Damari glanced sharply at his bondmate, rather surprised. Of all the dragons at Abri, Elcayleth was one of the most friendly, agreeable, and calm. Usually... I suppose so, Elcayleth, he told her now. But why? This isn't like you.
   She reared abruptly, bugling and flaring pale wings. Must I have a reason for everything I do? Come, Damari, mount! I want to fly!
   Hush, 'Cayle. You'll wake Sekayth and Keylyn! He admonished her. But when he glanced at his weyrmate, she still slept soundly. Wishing half-heartedly that she was awake to advice him, he took the proffered forearm and seated himself between her ridges. Let's go, then.

---

Elcayleth hatched at Ryslen Weyr's Flurry Hatching

 

Elcayleth is pronounced el/kay/leth, stressing the italicized syllables. Her nickname, 'Cayle, is kay-lee

 

Backgrounds by Myrror