6/7/2002

01:30 AM

Logfile from Sk'lar.

 

Feeding Pens

The cupric tang of life's energy hangs heavy in the air and whirls with a nauseous glee across the wide expanse of feeding ground that takes up half of the southern end of the bowl. The startled cries of herdbeast and wherry alike are quickly muffled by the rapid descent of dragon bulk, soon to be silenced forever, leaving behind a mottled pool of blood, the only testimony that they ever existed. A twisted barrier of wood surrounds the outer perimeter, keeping the beasts within the corral and, conveniently enough, providing a perch for both human and 'lizard.

It is a bright, cheery day.  Belior is waxing towards three-quarters full and Timor is a full moon.  It is a summer early morning.

You see Baby here.

Lii, Carid, H'navu, Z'eir, and Kei'a are here.

The following dragons are here: Adhaith, Asuenoth, Velynth, Qwinth, Kahlendroth, Cantoth, and Belluth

From here you can go:

Bowl                      Watering Hole                                        

You have connected.

Carid nods.  "Well, then I'll just have to be waiting when you get back, won't I?" she murmurs, no shortage of suggestiveness tilting those words.  Straightening, she offers a smile and a rather formal nod to Z'eir.  "And I'm Carid, weyrling to the brown that's," she grimaces again, "making rather a mess of his meal there, Adhaith."

 

Belluth backwings lightly as he lands stirring up any loose dirt along the way. Both rider and dragon scanning the crowd of both riders and dragons. After a moment though, who or what ever they were looking for is obviously not here, but instead of taking off again Arah, unfastens her straps and skittles her way to the ground. After finally getting her release from the hunting trip accident, she may as well enjoy her visit to Telgar.

 

Arah swings down from Belluth's neck and out from between earthen colored neckridges with the help of a foreleg.

 

Kahlendroth drops down onto his haunches, only to lean forward and drape forelegs over the top of the stone fence. His forepaws, and talons, dangle down to touch the earth on the herdbeast's side, scritching groves into the rich dirt -movements that seem to mimic what he would like to do to one or two of the beasts within. Sky offers Kei'a a soft grin before doing the glace to her own lifemate, "Ahhh, I believe I might have heard a thing or two. He looks like a wonderful lifemate though." Bronzer glances back to her, "Nice to see you here in Telgar though. If you have need of anything, don't hesitate to ask."

Main Living Cavern

Melodic laughter rings throughout the spacious cavern as riders socialize with one another, boasting of adventures a-dragonback, and gossiping about stodgy wingleaders and sordid affairs. Drudges rush past you, their arms laden with dishes and mugs of Klah, desperate to relieve themselves of their burden while pesky 'lizards inhibit their progress.

The light from the glows warmly illuminates the domed cavern and shimmers off the walls as miniscule mineral particles reflect the soft lighting like twinkling stars blanketed in a wintry gray sky. Numerous tables lie scattered across the room, some large enough to hold a whole wing of riders while others were made only for two.  Towards the back, a large hearth breathes soul soothing warmth into weary bodies as its flames dance with hypnotic grace and puppet flickering shadows across the spacious stone stage.     Sultry, mouth-watering aromas float in from a small archway that leads to the kitchens while chattering can be heard emanating from a wide hallway.

Flopped atop various perches are Frazap, Fallon, Mysti, Curious, and Blackwidow.

You see S'am, A small runnerbeast carving, kitten carving, Reni, and Telgar Weyr Menu here.

Carid, Tss'a, Lii, Kei'a, and H'navu are here.

From here you can go:

Lower Caverns             Bowl                       Infirmary                

Kitchen                   Gaming Room                                         

Sk'lar has arrived.

 

(Kahlendroth) Z'eir looks as another arrives, this time, his smile even broader as he spies yet another Igenite, this one familiar. "Arah!" A hand is lifted to wave her over. "Care to go share some of Telgar's wine?"

 

Carid meanders in, leaving Adhaith to hunt at his own happy leisure... or intensity.  Whatever.  On her way to find a seat - we shall forego the usual food for the nonce - she spots Tss'a and waves, grinning.  "Tass!  Hey!"  Guess who forgot that Aiswenath is "very clean".  "Hyn, join me?"

 

Z'eir has arrived.

Arah has arrived.

 

Z'eir arrives with his fellow Igenite, Arah, the speaking with her as they walk into the caverns. Spying another he hasn't seen in a while, a hand goes up to wave to Tss'a, "Tassaa!" The day is turning out not to be so bad, especially when one keeps running in to such friends as these.

 

(Kahlendroth) Asuenoth exposes his fangs angrily. Or that could just be gas. Who knows. At any rate, his levels of certain imbalanced hormones become all the more imbalanced at the departure of his lifemate. Banefully his inked eyes flare as he races at a packed bunch of beasts, driving them back and unleashing his paws toward them in a heavy doubl-swing--a swing he doesn't complete. Inexplicably, he wheels away.

 

H'navu is never warned by a certain voice in his head, and so is happily oblivious to anything untoward about the young greenrider.  "Hello, Ta... Tss'a," he greets, softly, although it is probably lost under more enthusiastic greetings as he sidles sideways to join Carid, a blush still apparent on his cheeks.  "Ah ... err ... well."

 

Tss'a is walks in, her gait smooth and controlled. Carid is waved at with a tired smile as she approaches the klah-pot, filling a mug with steaming-hot liquid that is gratefully sipped. Another voice is heard, she turns: "Z'eir? What are you...?" Never mind that, she rushes over to him, meaning to envelop him in a big hug.

 

K'no has arrived.

 

Lii baaa's. Like a sheep. Or she would, if she were indeed a sheep and not just toddling after others to ease ennui.

 

(Kahlendroth) Adhaith simply... ignores the off-tempered blue, continuing on his merry hunt with only an amused mind-touch for his Carid.  Ever the ranger in his territory, the large brown somehow manages to look /small/ in the sky, circling lazy while his prey - a black herdbeast - searches for something on the ground, oblivious.

Kei'a trails into the living cavern slowly, fidgeting with her riding cap. Without her dragon to back her up, she feels small and reflects it with her posture- humped shoulders and downcast eyes. The bluerider circles the others in the large room, to find her way to the klah pots, aiming to poor herself a mug while Cantoth does what he wanted to do, just as he always does.

 

Sk'lar crosses into the caverns with just about everyone else at the feeding pens. Apparently watching dragons eviscerate herdbeasts doesn't exactly have the entertainment draw as some would expect. He flickers a wink to Lii as he passes her by, leaning towards her briefly, "Looking delicious in your leathers as always, Lii." He continues on to take a pass by the hearth-side table, swiping a singular redfruit and from there polishing it on the front of his shirt.

 

K'no hums to himself, "Tah-dah-dee-dum," as he walks in, swirling a black bikini top on his index finger.  "Oh good, a crowd.  Has anyone seen Artemis lately?  I've got something she'd probably want back."  K'no grins and keeps spinning the black bikini top before he walks over to the serving table and stuffs the top into some random pocket.  He picks up a redfruit, shines it on his jacket, then walks over to a table and sits down at it.  He spots H'navu and gives him an off-handed salute and a grin.

 

Z'eir doesn't seem to mind the enthusiastic greeting from Tss'a, and as she rushes over, he curls his arms around her and hugs, swinging her around before placing her feet back on the ground. "Tss'a, I should say, how /are/ you? And why? To see you. And deliver some reports." The pack is given a pat upon his shoulder before he chuckles lightly. "Getting away from Igen's heat is nice too, for the day."

 

Arah gives a quick nod of her as she talks with Z'eir on the way in into the caverns. Blue eyes glance about as she spots Tss'a as well, "Hello there Tss'a!" She gives a bright smile towards her friend even including a wave. Wow this day has got better as the Igenite brownrider goes. "How are you?" She asks quickly as the last time she seen Tss'a she was in a hurry and they didn't get to chat long.

 

Lii pushes a hand absently at Sk'lar's shoulder as he passes. "My dress," she murmurs, wandering after him in order to point this out. See? Short hem, diving neckline, lack of pantlegs? A dress.

 

Carid doesn't quite hide a snicker, oddly amused by off-balancing poor, innocent H'navu.  "Oh, don't worry.  I don't bite.  At least not hard," she murmurs, grin all too mischievously for the once-stolid young woman.  "Faranth, I think we're being overrun by Igenites.  None I know, though.  Too bad brownrider M'doc or that harper mate of hers doesn't come by."

 

(Kahlendroth) Qwinth finally makes his choice, and this time when the bronze dives, he doesn't come up empty handed. Taking the herdbeast down to the ground with a bugle of glee, the shadowy bronze quickly lowers his head and takes out the throat, savoring the spill of blood that floods his mouth soon after. His tail, ever a good indicator of his mood, flips and flicks at his side as he picks up the beast and moves to the side, a rumbling growl given to scare the other herdbeast away from the corner he's heading for.

 

(Kahlendroth) Kahlendroth remains where he is, beside the pen enclosure. He is still scratching long troughs in the dirt near there, much to the groundsman's utter displeasure. Hooded wings hang loosely at his sides, pinion's tips lazy as they brush the ground. Interest flickers in his eyes though as he watches a mottle 'beast lope past, haunches heaving. Err, that would be the herdbeast's haunches that is. Bronze allows his tongue to lave out about his maw in delicious anticipation.

 

Tss'a somehow manages to set her mug down without spilling its contents, just before Z'eir twirls her around. "And Arah! Shards!" She exclaims, suddenly outgoing happy at seeing her old friends. "It's great to see you guys. Things are great here, though Re'a keeps me busy... I'm the weyrling wingleader now." She shakes her head bemusedly as she picks up her mug again. "Just to keep me out of trouble, I expect." Teasing her absent Weyrlingmaster. A deep, almost scalding draught is taken from the mug. "I'm sure Aiswenath would say hello, but she's fast asleep on her ledge."

 

Kei'a manages to pour herself that mug of klah without spilling anything, but once the pot is back, she holds the mug of steaming liquid close to her chest, as though afraid of it jumping out of her hands. The bluerider shuffles, almost reluctantly, towards the small group, but stops at the outskirts. If someone were to speak to her now, she'd probably freeze or run- except that her Cantoth wouldn't forgive her, if she ran.

 

H'navu returns the salute with an idle wave of one hand and a smile, pouring himself a mug of klah and arching brows absently at some interplay between his dragon and ... well, the supposed food.  For some reason perhaps beneath the surface of his consciousness, the mention of Aiswenath gets a sharp sideways look ... before he relaxes.  "Well, that's a relief.  I think I've a fairly thick skin against biting," he murmurs.

 

(Kahlendroth) Belluth sits in complete silence as he watches the feeding below brown tail wrapped about him like a feline sitting upon a window seal, the end twitching ever so lightly as he watches the herdbeast run about the pens.  As a plump beast runs past the beast of a brown launches himself like he came springs on his feat after the beast, taking it down in a quick sweep. Squared brown muzzle is then lowered to catch the spilling blood.

 

Always Let Sleeping Green Dragons, K'no would say, but he's busy eating.  "Tuh-duh-deh-duhm.." he hums again as he sets himself down at the table.  He scans the rest of the crowd, picking out the familiar, the unfamiliar, and the irritating.  "Tessana--er... Tss'a, isn't it now?" he calls out to the youth, grinning all the while.  He's been out of the whole weyrling thing for a while now, so cut him some slack.  He peers at Kei'a for a moment, she looks familiar, but his eyes finally fall on Sk'lar, and they rooooll in his head and quickly move to more pleasant things like a wrinkly old drudge meandering about the Caverns.

 

(Kahlendroth) Asuenoth is moody! And all the world is to blame. Opinionated, dark, and pissed off like any proper misfit, he dives and charges and terrorizes to a great extent, but seems uninterested in causing death. Just yet.

 

Sk'lar flashes a toothy grin to Lii, "Ahhh, but a guy can sure wish you were in leather, can't he? 'Tis a shame, because it really fills out your... well, all of you beautifully." Redfruit is polished once more before teeth sink into the meat of the fruit, delving through skin to get to the juicy center. Mmmmmm.

 

 

Z'eir grins even more as he looks to the girl who once stood on the sands with him back at Igen. "Wingleader? Well, congratulations to both you and your lifemate." Hearing about being kept busy, an eyebrow is pulled up, eyes shining with a hint of curiousity. "Could our Tassa be causing trouble?" Don't look at him, he was a /good/ weyrling!

 

(Kahlendroth) Velynth regards Asuenoth with a quizzical air for a moment, pausing in tableau with a certain artistic swirl of blood down one side of his muzzle, and an attractive adornment of entrails on the other.  He didn't plan it that way:  it simply happened, and there is something oddly majestic about it.  (Not that he would ever say as much ...)

Lii briefly considers this. "It's not leather weather, though. The less I wear, Sk'lar, the less I feel like a hot mess all the time." Perceptive as she really isn't, she notices K'no's little eye-manuever and sort of thinks throwing something at him might be entertaining.

 

(Kahlendroth) Qwinth bends over his meal as he settles into the corner of the pens, the beast laid out like a sacrifice, blood bearding the darkness of his muzzle. Whirling eyes keep a watch on the others as his head is bent once more to his meal, tongue darting out to lap at the grisly mess of the 'beast's throat.

 

Arah smiles brightly towards Tss'a, "It's great to see you." She says brushing her wind tossed hair from her face, "Weyrling wingleader you say? Well way to go even if it was only to keep you out of trouble." Arah gives a wink as she always knew Tss'a would make a splendid dragonrider, but in truth the brownrider has been proven wrong on more than one occasion. She then gives a little giggle towards Z'eir, "If she turned out to be anything like our group then..Why of course." She smirks. Go ahead and look at her, she was /good/..Till Belluth came along.

 

Kei'a continues to skulk in the shadows, so to speak, with her klah mug clutched close. She listens in and nods to Lii when she hears the comment. "My we...er, one of the girls I live near at Igen, her dragon tells mine that she never wears anything in her weyr 'cause it gets so hot." In this mood of Keri's, she's quite willing to provide unsolicited information as such, but one had better not talk directly to her. Again, she'd probably freeze and stutter and drop her klah.

 

Carid arches a brow, settling for a cool glass of redfruit juice.  "You're relieved because I don't bite hard, or you're relieved because M'doc's not here?  I don't think that woman likes you very much.  She's kinda... odd."  Gray eyes lazily scan the caverns, a furrow appearing between them as Adhaith touches her mind, communicating a growing tension in the pens.

 

H'navu watches the interplay between the folks at Igen.  "Wonder if there is something going on that we didn't get the word about?" he wonders, just loudly enough to be overheard.  He shrugs a shoulder.  "Ah ... the biting, but it was a joke," he admits sheepishly.  "Although I'm not so sure I'm not happy about that, either."

 

Tss'a grins back at Z'eir and Arah. "Trouble? Me? Never happen." She winks; if they don't know about the kissing incident, she's not going to tell them. She turns away for a moment, eyes sweeping over the people in the Caverns. Sk'lar and K'no are given small, perhaps slightly nervous, smiles. "Lots of people in here this morning," she comments, then pauses. That distant look comes over her face that all dragonriders are familiar with, then she murmurs - just loud enough for those nearby to hear, "Well you haven't eatin in ages, of course you're hu..." Oddly, at that moment, all colour drains from her face, and the mug slips from her suddenly strengthless fingers, descending towards the floor.

 

Sk'lar chews languidly upon the fruit, leaning a hip against the side of the table as his free hand comes down to plant upon the surface of it. "Point taken," bronzer murmurs softly, glancing askance at Lii once more as a grin tickles on the edges. "Although, the idea of you as a hot..." He trails off, deciding the silence would probably be the better point of valor at this point. He looks over to Kei'a once more, "That's I've witnessed. My aunt used to do that quite often out there, probably still does. Waking up one morning and seeing my flat-arsed aunt walk by scarred me, I tell you." And he sounds totally serious too, hard to believe.

 

(Kahlendroth) Belluth settles over his now finished meal, burnt umber drizzled wings spread like cloak about him eyes whirling at a quickened pace as he glances slowly about lapping the blood splash across his mouth like a cat to dish of cream. Completely finished with that beast he then moves away glancing towards herd as if selecting his next victim.

 

Z'eir swings the pack down from his shoulder, setting it upon a nearby table as he stands and speaks with Tss'a and Arah. Good humor is shown in his look as he turns back at the young greenrider. Just as he's about to speak, Tss'a grows pale, and the mug within her hand falls to the floor. "Tss'a, is everything ok?" Concerned for his friend, he steps up, a hand laid on her arm. "Tss'a?" Confused, he looks to Arah, for perhaps it's some strange woman thing that she might understand better.

 

K'no hums again, watching the milling people until he notices the most unusual descent of a muggen citizen.  "Tss'a?  Are you alright?  Mugs are supposed to stay in your hands, you know..."  The rider peers at the spankin' new rider curiously and munches on his redfruit.

 

Kei'a chuckles at Sk'lar, but only after a few moments. Maybe Cantoth had to tell her what to do. "I, er, I'm sure that'd scar anyone to see their aunt like that." She says carefully, then tries a smile out on Lii. "Your dress is quite lovely, though. It's a very pretty shade."

 

"I'm from up that way," Lii answers Kei'a, nodding sympathetically. "The heat's unbearable ... who are you?" There is no clever seguewaying in her world. "I'm Asuenoth's associate--Lii, in fact, is what he calls me." Roundabout sentencing aside, the bluerider plants herself close to her clutchmate (on the tabletop, in fact), and punches him playfully against the upper arm. "Same old Sk'l--what the wherries...?" Her dark eyes, darker in shock, flash toward T'ssa. And then her mug. Poor mug.

 

Carid opens her mouth to answer and is distracted by the sound of a mug hitting the floor.  "What the... Tass?  Tss'a?  Wingleader?"  Well, one of those titles ought to catch her attention, right?  "Are you alright?"  She glances back at H'navu, puzzled.  "I've never seen her like this before.  Maybe I should find Weyrlingmaster Re'a...?"

 

Arah quirks a brow at the sudden change in Tss'a and glances towards Z'eir just as the mug slips from young greenriders hands. She glances back with a slightly concerned look, "Tss'a, Something wrong?" She scrunches her brows before giving a shrug towards Z'eir giving her own confused look. This is one thing the brownrider has no clue on so it can't be one of them strange woman things.

 

H'navu cranes about, peering worriedly at the weyrling, and adding his voice to the din, "Tss'a?  Are you okay?  What happened?"  He flickers out a thought to Velynth, disturbed by the equivocal response, but unable to put his finger on it.  "Maybe you should," he worries.  "Ask Adhaith to call for Ailaeth?"  It hasn't occurred to him right now that his own lifemate might be helpful.

 

Ahh...it takes a while, again, for Kei'a to notice that Tss'a isn't acting in character, even with everybody asking if something's wrong. But she, too, eventually peers at the weyrling, her expression one of concern. And if she knew the rider, she'd say something, too.

 

(Kahlendroth) Asuenoth steps on some poor beast's head rather innocently.

 

(Kahlendroth) Cantoth watches the other, bigger dragons lazily as they feed. He, the unorthodox thing he is, is curled up on the ground, just outside the pens, and waits to see what shall happen.

 

(Kahlendroth) Chesketh waddles in from Outside the Feeding Pens.

 

(Kahlendroth) Asuenoth likes this stepping-on-heads things. So he does it a few more times.

 

(Kahlendroth) Adhaith fades into the landscape, nothing more than a shadow among other shadows.

 

(Kahlendroth) Adhaith steps out from the shadows, tail drawn and ready.

 

(Kahlendroth) Asuenoth is annoyed by silence, and thus steps on other, bonier parts to maintain some level of auditory sensation.

 

(Kahlendroth) Cantoth begins to doze as the sun beats down on his so very green blue hide, and he almost snores, as much as a dragon could. He should move, or he'll fall fast asleep and miss all the action.

 

(Kahlendroth) Asuenoth does some serious head-stepping near Cantoth. No sleep for you.

 

The mug shatters, noisily and messily on the stone cavern floor. Tss'a stands there, hand still held up in front of her where it gripped the mug's handle, her trous and boots wet with hot klah. "Aiswenath... no..." she whispers, shock and fear leaping full-grown into her eyes.

 

(Kahlendroth) Chesketh tromps right through the pens, through the gate, into the pens, grabs a wing-plucked wherry and keeps right on tromping, squalling bird in his grip.

 

Sk'lar reaches a hand over to massage his arm. Fardles. He is going to get a bruise. He gets beat on by Tarlin enough as it is. Too many violent femmes in Telgar. "Yeah... well, you would wake up with nightmares too, I tell you. Should have gone to a mindhealer." Yeah right... drug there with fingernails gouging troughs in the stone floor. He gives Kei'a a 'hopefully' reassuring grin. He seems oblivious to any shattered crockery on the other end of the cavern, taking another healthy bite of the redfruit. *chew-chew-chew* As others' attention diverts, he twists about to look where the rest seem to be going agog. Mouth turns into a wry line at the sight of Tss'a before he is turning back about, looking rather resigned. "Finally, eh..." a muttered thought.

 

(Kahlendroth) [*] Aiswenath wakes up, her hide bright and her mind filled with hunger - and not just one kind of hunger, either.

 

(Kahlendroth) Cantoth cracks one set of eyelids to watch Asuenoth stomp the heads. In-ter-esting. The blue's serpentine tail twitches, dragon wanting to join in the game. How does one play it?

 

(Kahlendroth) Aiswenath swoops down from above and quickly lands in an empty spot, surveying the herds intently.

 

(Kahlendroth) Adhaith twitches, drawn from this hunt to the rising urgency of a different hunt.  His headknobs glint like a crown as he raises his head, gently whirling orbs looking intently for the source of the disturbance.  Evil wizards?  Nope.  Evil eyeball?  Nope.  A proddy green clutchmate?  Ah, another battle to decide the fate of Middle... Telgar.  Or at least the fate of this flight.  Abandoning, for a moment, the elegant, he pounces the nearest beast and savors its pulsing blood as though it were fine wine.

 

Lii bounces a little on the balls of her feet. "Ohh. A game today," she giggles, patting Sk'lar's wounded limb reassuraingly. Her eyes, though, large and dramatic, are on T'ssa.

 

K'no rises from his seat and eyes Tss'a.  "Tss'a, what's wrong with Aiswenath?  Is she sick?"  The man sets his redfruit down on the table and slowly approaches Tss'a.  "C'mon, no fooling.  What's going on?"  Out creeps the Weyrlingmaster in him.  "You don't look so hot, girl.  Maybe you should sit down."

 

(Kahlendroth) Aiswenath doesn't land, but swoops with a battle-cry of epic volume down out of the air, catching a herdbeast in her talons and arcing back up into the sky. Far away from the males, she lands, scything talon slicing the beast's head from its body, the surging blood devoured messily.

 

Carid blinks.  Carid blinks some more and reaches out to Adhaith, questioning.  If her own face suddenly looks a little, well, green, blame it on Ailaeth and Re'a.  They've traumatized the poor woman.  "Hyn, is Velynth... that is to say... has Vel... um?"

 

"Er, Tss'a?" Kei'a tries, holding out her mug of untouched klah. "D'you need this? Maybe? Yer white as a sheet!" The bluerider tries again. "I mean, maybe it'll help? You look shocked. Klah is good for that, isn't it?" She directs this question to the others, her backbone a bit stronger now that there is something that needs to be done for the weyrling.

 

(Kahlendroth) Chesketh stops tromping as soon as he's aware of the green and watches her ride down a herdbeast.  The brown lets out an impressed croon and then slits the throat of his wherry-prey.  He latches onto the beast's neck and starts to suck the blood from the beast like a boy with a kool-aid juice pack.  The results end the same and the emaciated wherry-husk hits the ground after the brown empties it.  That's all he really needs to do much of anything nowadays.

 

(Kahlendroth) Kahlendroth was settled just shy of the fencing, pushed back on his haunches and surveying all with a lucrative eye. As a herdbeast drawn with a motley of colors meant to camouflage trundle past, more heaving haunches dressed with a lather, the bronze pounces over the fence with nary a care, except to sate that gnawing hunger inside him. Forelegs reach, paws enfold, and talons snare the 'beast, much as a feline pouncing a mouse. Alas, he does not play, but makes quite work of the prey, now carion. A thick rending sound, like the ripping of wet sisal, and the beast is ripped open, his muzzle delving into the chest cavity to lap the blood within.

(Kahlendroth) Belluth continues to watch the herd for now until he spots just what he is looking for, just the right beast to fuel for the chase of another type. Gruffly-hewn head is raised at the sound of a battle cry and then he catches the glimpse of the glowing Aiswenath. Then as if on a call that beast a alabaster colored one comes running by and his attention is the draw back to prey at hand, gruff tenor croon is emitted just seconds before he pounces upon his beast slitting its through with two simple slashes, head lowering to guzzle the life-sustaining liquid as if it was that of a fountain of youth and energy.

 

H'navu closes his eyes and drops his face into his hands with a soft groan.  "No, I think he'd prefer to go storm-watching," the bronzerider says with a weary sense of non-sarcasm.  "I ... ah ... oh dear.  The poor girl ..."  Small girl.  And a clutchmate of Carid's, at that.  This ... is not to be contemplated at length.

 

(Kahlendroth) Qwinth raises his head, blood dripping down his muzzle as the green arrives and challenges them all. One foreleg scraps the carcus aside, muscles rippling beneath his hide as he stands, tail flicking out behind him as he watches Aiswenath carry her 'beast away from the pens. Ah, there is sport and games to be had here today. A hunt of fine proportions it would seem.

 

(Kahlendroth) Cantoth's attention breaks away from Asuenoth and the head-stepping when Aiswenath is spied. Ahh...an even better game. For being a little bitty sometimes nancy-green of a blue, he knows what's going on. But though the others blood herdbeasts, Cantoth waits for his queue to jump into the air: his batteries need no extra charging- the doze in the sun works well enough, for agility and endurance were a two-for-one deal when he came about.

 

Tss'a quivers, important questions and unavoidable sensations starting to overwhelm her. "Clean... she's clean..." she moans. "Not..." Eyes suddenly refocus. "No." She looks around the crowd this time, perfectly attentive to the people nearby. She steps back, away from the mess of broken mug. "Must... go. Must... find..." and with that, she dashes towards the door, pushing smaller people out the way and dodging around larger individuals.

 

(Kahlendroth) Adhaith finishes indulging his thirst with this intoxicating blood brew, eyes whirling with the desire of some else even more intoxicating: a watcher, a compliment to his protector, and right now the enchantress of his surroundings.  They say a witch of terrible power lives in these woods; the brown waits in stillness, certain that witch is really here.

 

K'no blinks as the girl takes off.  "Well I'll be a wherry's father's brother."  The man strolls outside after the youth with nary a glance at the other riders.  "Tsssssss'a?"

 

(Kahlendroth) Aiswenath finishes the beast she started very quickly, letting out another earth-shaking rumble and leaping into the air. Wide wings spread as she pounces down on another beast, dispatching it just as quickly and dragging it back to the far corner of the pens, where again its head is sliced off and its lifeblood greedily sucked dry.

 

Kei'a looks at her rejected mug, then sets it aside carefully. She'll come back for it later. For now, that poor girl's dragon is proddy and apparently for the first time. Keri shall follow, just to make sure Tss'a's alright, doesn't hurt herself or anything like that...yes. That'd be a bad thing to do.

 

Sk'lar flickers a glance over to Lii, gently suggesting, "Its best not to stare, Lii. Its her first flight. She needs to get through it the best way she can, and ogling her as she comes to terms..." Well, again he lets the words trail off. He knew it was only a matter of time, as did she, he hopes. Yet another bite of the redfruit is taken, lazy chewing. As Tss'a rushes past, he pushes away from the table. Hand lifts and he tosses the redfruit towards a trash receptacle, the half-eaten fruit arcing neatly before cracking the edge and rolling off to the floor.  Shards. Missed.

 

Lii looks a bit sad, now. "I don't like this part," she mumbles somewhat dolefully, watching and gravitating toward T'ssa. "It's so sad, Sk'lar." All the more she appreciates the lovely shade of her lifemate's blue hide.

 

Arah scrunches her brows even more as she looks at the greenrider, as her mind is filled with a images from her own lifemate as well as a strong taste of blood and it all comes together for the brownrider. Glance is given towards Z'eir, then back to Tss'a as she dashes out the door. "Just wonderful." is mumbled under her breath before the brownrider lets out a soft sight.

 

Carid shoots to her feet, drawn forward by feet unwilling.  With naught but a desperate look for H'navu, she surges after her wingleader.  After all, a wingsecond should watch after her leader, no.  "Tass..."  That single word emerges as a smoky whisper, a match for the gray smoke of the brownling's gaze on the greenrider.

 

(Kahlendroth) Kahlendroth removes his blooded muzzle from the empty cavity of the 'beast. Before a single drip can congeal, be pulled by gravity, and reach the ground, the dragon's tongue comes from his maw, laving about his muzzle to lick up the last of the rent lifeblood. Bronze pushes back from the mangled remains, leaving the more courageous firelizards to come and pick off the remains. He turns to watch after Aiswenath, paw lifting so that teeth can worry at the space between his talons to get the very last of the fueling gore.

 

Z'eir frowns even more as Tss'a takes off running out of the caverns, and with a look to Arah, he turns. "I guess we should see if she's ok?" Pack is forgotten as he turns, and with the others, heads out after the greenrider as dragons blood and ready themselves for the skies and the chase. Hands get tucked into his pockets, and green eyes darken as he heads out, his mind questioning his lifemate closely.

 

Z'eir strolls with a loose gait toward Northern Curve of the Bowl.

 

(Kahlendroth) Cantoth cranes his head and flexes his opalescent wings, they catch and reflect sunlight so well!, to inspect them. And as usual, one is shorter than the other, but no other problems. Very good. Next, the blue flicks his tail back and forth, sweeping the ground with it. That, too, is in working condition, so he glares at his talons, to be sure each one is still shiny and clean from the bath he so recently got from his rider. And now, settling onto his back haunches, Cantoth is ready to chase as soon as Aiswenath is ready to run- er, fly.

 

(Kahlendroth) Asuenoth is very comfortable in his merry circle of grimly shredded cadavers. His talons, functioning as cutlery, are slung haphazardly to and fro--remnants of herdbeast fly. And though he is always highly stylistic in his methods, he's particularly snazzy (and very, very sloppy) tonight. Mmm.

 

(Kahlendroth) Velynth rumbles low in his throat, the ominous building of thunder ... but even the blood coursing through his veins is not enough to slake the thirst of a desert of thoughts and sensations.  Clear and pristine, the light reflects off one consideration, and one consideration only:  Aiswenath.  The glaring brightness of all that is Velynth focuses in on this as he scuttles forth for a second kill, drinking as deeply as roots in the soil.

 

(Kahlendroth) Chesketh rumbles to the greenlet and reaches out with the amber hues of autumn, <<Nice form...>>  The brown toys with his kill, making it stand back up and flap it's wings.  He flaps them so hard that one pops off.  The brown jumps back, startled, and drop the corpse again.  He brushes it inconspicously away with his tail and puts on an innocent look.

 

(Kahlendroth) Adhaith waits, a brown shadow among the other, darker shadows of the pens.  His need for blood - at least the blood from the 'beasts - is taken care of; it is the thirst running through the rest of him that drives him now.  Arrayed as though upon a throne, he watches, deceptively relaxed.  A warrior is Adhai, sauntering alone into battle to challenge too many foes.  Or at least too many male dragons between himself and Aiswenath.

 

(Kahlendroth) Qwinth snatches another beast from the herd as they're scared up, talons gleaming midnight against the blood that wells up from the wounds they inflict. A challenge is raised in the bugle that trumpets from his throat before his muzzle descends to rend the flesh and drink from the fountain of energy-giving blood. A game, a race, and the prize? The lovely /clean/ Aiswenath that glows so nicely nearby. Whirling eyes take on the magenta of dragonlust, his tail keeping a quick staccatto upon the ground at his side.

 

H'navu lingers confused for a moment, one of those riders better able to filter between himself and his lifemate:  perhaps it only stands to reason, with the sharp contrasts of personalities.  Still, between the prodding of morals and the proddings of bronzen instinct, one must prevail, and the young man just ... goes with the flow and follows, checking anxieties.

 

(Kahlendroth) Aiswenath sits back on her haunches, the corpse of the last herdbeast still held in one taloned grip, and the green flings it aside, where it lands messily in front of the male dragons: the gauntlet has been thrown down. No more bugles, just a defiant snarl, and the green spreads her wide, wide wings, her body tensing for take off. << Leave me, all of you, >> comes her deep and lust-tinged voice.

 

Tss'a vanishes out the door, bowling over a rider that was just on her way in, and pelts towards the ground weyrs without a thought for people in front of - or behind - her.

 

Guest Ground Weyr

Large cavern built to house visiting dragons and riders from other Weyrs. There is a small nook housing cots and other items for the human riders to use. The only real splash of color in this barren cavern is the murals on the walls. Scenes depicting hatchings, weyrlings flights, wings training, and mating flights.

Perched somewhere up high, you see Mysti.

Z'eir, Carid, Kei'a, Tss'a, K'no, H'navu, and Lii are here.

From here you can go:

Out                                                                           

 

(Kahlendroth) Belluth removes his muzzle from the now empty beast, brown head is raised his cream-dip chin turn towards the greenlet as he moves slowly to the side of the beast corpse. Almandine eyes whirl in dark lavender under his cream dappled brows. Tongue is flicked again across his muzzle, not allowing a drop to be waisted, as he digs his ebon-dipped talons into the ground before pulling them free again as if drawing his line on where he stands. He is not going anywhere.

 

(Kahlendroth) <<Never!>> replies the brown Chesketh and he stretches his all-encompassing wings out and then folds them back.  He stretches his legs and then sits back on his haunches, coiling the muscles up like a spring and gets ready to rocket into the air with spring-loaded wing action.  Yes, very soon and he will take to the skies, back to his playground amongst the clouds to swing on birch trees again.  Or something.

 

Carid remembers this place all too well, and a soft groan escapes her lips as the riders as one enter.  Forgetting H'navu - forgetting everything but Tass - she finds a corner and presses herself into it, unease clearly reflected in her eyes.

 

(Kahlendroth) Adhaith bugles, bagpipes tempered by the intonation of brass, and shifts forward, poised to follow the watching one.  Easy confidence directs his every move, the blood and the gore a thing of the past, and the battle and the hope for victory, and for Aiswenath, are all that matter now.

 

(Kahlendroth) Velynth denies, in a blast of fiery sun, gold and amber scintillating off purest white ... his mindvoice blazes with the very heat of passion, without the underlying glitz that perhaps fires his manner ... but it is there in his pose, in the way one paw lazily bats aside his latest victim, in the moment's lazy droop of wings ... as if slumber could be feigned so completely as to catch the green off-guard, as if he strives to conserve every last coolth of the pre-flight twilight.

 

Kei'a scurries towards the back of the weyr once she enters it, then turns back to look for Tss'a. Is the girl alright now? Maybe not, but she wouldn't be able to worry anyhow. Cantoth is already taking over her mind and Keri barely remembers to find a place to sit before the blue dragon leaves her little freedom of thought. Her mind does twine so readily with his...

 

(Kahlendroth) Asuenoth doesn't give a flip about this whole sex business. His face, so intricately traced in a webbing of ebony, is enveloped in the scarlet insignia of murder.

 

(Kahlendroth) Kahlendroth remains as is, looming over the steaming carcass of the already forgotten 'beast. Hooded wings pull away from his sides with the slow unfurling of sails, muted bronzes lightening as the light of day pierces their frail surface and plays with diluted shadows upon the drawn sides. Talons delve into the earth, seeking purchase deep within as his haunches bunch, forelegs bending with the angle of a studied crouch. No heralding bugles of announcement, for his presence is utter silence, yet ever there.

 

K'no makes a good merry trot after the dashing young girl (pun intended), calling out her name with growing irritation as she flees.  When they end up in the GGW, he grumbles and rubs his forehead and walks over to a chair and flops down into it.  "Proddy, that's not a sickness, that's a plague."  The older man removes his jacket and drops it on the floor next to him.

 

Tss'a pants, her sudden exertion forgotten against the heat of the sudden emotions that well up inside her. She skids to a stop, one hand pressed against her heart, and turns to view all who followed with wide eyes. Suddenly knowing /why/ they're all following, she presses herself against the far wall, narrowing her eyes. They think they're going to /catch/ Ais, do they?

 

(Kahlendroth) Cantoth is getting impatient, tail flipping back and forth faster and faster. His eyes, brightly magenta, focus on Aiswenath and nothing else. Cantoth is ready for the game to begin, so he can prove winner, or at least show the others how to play.

 

(Kahlendroth) Qwinth would laugh at the green's daring, but instead, bugles another challenge as he stands and steps forward, then pauses. <<Why should we, beautiful green?>> Whirling eyes take Aiswenath in as his wings rustle against his back, shimmering bronze glinting in the sunlight. Talons score the blood-muddied ground, and his proud bearing dares the others for the chase.

 

Sk'lar follows in along with the other 'chasers', his steps measured and sure. With hands tucked into the pockets of his trous, he seems almost nonchalant in his entry. As the cool shadows of these inner weyrs bathe him in their darkness, there is but a flicker to his eyes with a sparkkle that has nothing to do with the available light. And so, he stands back and watches, watches Tss'a.

 

Lii is very indifferent to all of this for the time being. She sighs and flops to the ground, languidly stretching out. It'll be a bit, best to be comfy.

(Kahlendroth) High Above the Feeding Grounds

(Kahlendroth) The carnage below seems almost theatrical from this vantage point...each character playing their role well.  The rancid smell that prevails lower towards the ground is much fainter here as frequent breezes carry it away.  A few ledges dot this side of the bowl but not nearly as many as those found along the other curves.

(Kahlendroth) Type 'ledges' to see a list of connected weyrs.

(Kahlendroth) It is a bright, cheery day.  Belior is waxing towards three-quarters full and Timor is a full moon.  It is a summer early morning.

(Kahlendroth) The following dragons are here: Orcath, Aiswenath, Velynth, Adhaith, Asuenoth, Chesketh, Cantoth, Belluth, and Qwinth

(Kahlendroth) From here you can go:

(Kahlendroth) Down                      Eastern Curve                                       

(Kahlendroth) Training Grounds          Central Bowl                                        

 

(Kahlendroth) Aiswenath starts the flight with long, powerful sweeps of her wings. No subtlety here, no fancy dodging, no twisting maneuvers - a brute acceleration with wings better suited to stamina and strength than any sort of agility. *re for the lonely bronze* ;)

 

Arah makes her way in with the rest of riders removing her jacket along the way as she picks one of the empty corners left tossing the jacket there to sit on. For a brief moment she is more back to herself as she glances about one of the few rooms she had never been in while growing up in Telgar as she also spars a glance towards Tss'a to make sure she is okay before own mind drifts to be with that of her dragons for the time.

 

(Kahlendroth) Cantoth is quick to shove his mismatched wings into motion, pushing at the air as he races to get near the glowing green. There is no time to show off, not with Aiswenath speeding ahead, and so he must work. And work he does! The little blue, always in last place at the beginning, longs to win the race and proclaim 'tag! you're it!'

 

(Kahlendroth) Adhaith wastes no time on sounds or moves that will alert his target to his presence, merely shooting after the green as though he is an arrow shot from some invisible bow.  Ever-large for his color, the brown swiftly beats powerful wings, deftly moving along behind that enticing emerald enchantress.

 

(Kahlendroth) Chesketh is quite good with brute strength and speed in the air.  That's what he was built for.  The little brown's wings are open and he angles towards a current of warm air and rides it up like a bird, quickly gaining altitude without even trying.  The brown pumps his wings once and steadies himself as he gracefully follows after the rookie green pilot, Aiswenath.

 

Tss'a is most certainly not okay. Not in any conventional sense: Abject fear wars with defiance and the struggle to not get lost in the dragon; the last weyrling lesson held onto like a drowning man holds a lifejacket. 'Don't lose yourself', she was told, and that is the one thing that keeps her in this, her body still pressed back against the wall.

 

(Kahlendroth) Velynth sends tiny, irritating granules of thought into his rider's mind, motes of complaint ... for his is not a raw push of musculature, the streamlined grace displaying itself in the speed of sandstorm winds:  ever swirling, cascading, churning up force that sears obstacles of flesh into bone ... but has no force of endurance behind it.  Conquer and conquer fast:  and then lie in wait.

 

(Kahlendroth) Kahlendroth extends towards the empyrean, great wingfulss of air being gathered in the generous cusp of unfurled sails, cupping and caressing the very air before it is being shamelessly pushed away and behind -he has no further use for it. Each laborious stroke draws him ever further aloft, pulling him away from the majority of the pack to sail through virgin air unsullied by the passage of the other chasers. 

 

Carid whimpers, torn between her natural revulsion for flights and the unexpected lust that tugs at her from Tss'a's direction.  Eyes move briefly to H'navu, but her gaze is not that of weyrmate, but of fellow pursuer, the guard's mind entwined with Adhaith's.

 

(Kahlendroth) Qwinth springs into the air, muscles bunching beneath the shadowed bronze hide as wings stretch out and cup the air like a lover, lifting him upwards to leave the ground below. The lady wishes to race. That he can do! Broad wings beat heavily until he finds the thermal that holds him aloft. Like an adolescent, he calls out to the green, teasing insults that are sure in inflame her. <<Looking great from this angle!>>

 

(Kahlendroth) Asuenoth charges the cloud of winged hormones, haranguing them for their salacious stupidity. Nevermind his own. The blue's foul spirits gush like severed veins into his wide, embittered eyes. These same spirits are goading him, causing the smoothness of his maneuvers, and invoking further pissery at the rest of his appalling species.

Kei'a is once again on the outskirts, lost in Cantoth's mind. Even if all she can really get are crayon-scribbled pictures, they're there and she sees them through misted eyes. The ground weyrs around her are almost nothing, even Tss'a, her own version of Aiswenath- for now- is but a blur.

 

(Kahlendroth) Belluth uses graceful, yet powerful sweep of his umber drizzled wings. His mind and body working like a well oiled machine as he moves non to small body towards the glowing greenlet moving like lurking predator across the sky. Each careful movement he makes set to plan he forms in his mind while searching for just the right air current to send him speeding even higher.

 

K'no coolly watches Tss'a from his seating point, but he closes his eyes and watches the flight through Chesketh's eyes.  He always gets a thrill out of this part, so he always tries to take advantage of it.  Every now and then his eyes open to gaze at the ex-farmgirl and she appears to swim against the sky; his vision blurs both his mental and physical worlds together.

 

Sk'lar pulls his hands from the pockets of his trous. Hand comes up, fingers pulling and tugging at the laced cording at the neckline of his shirt. Cloth is spread open in the effort to cool the heat. It is but a moment's respite though as the passion that possesses the dragon makes itself known upon the human lifemate. Sky flashes a glance across to Tss'a before somehow managing to tear his gaze away, murmuring something that could almost be a curse that is probably better left censored.

 

(Kahlendroth) Aiswenath snarls again, snapping one wing over and sending her brightly-glowing body sailing within a handsbreadth of the bowl's lip as she passes over it to the outside world. << Stay /away/, you, and forget your petty compliments! >> More impressive wingsweeps - not laced with the efficiency of experience but a simple and raw display of power, boosts her speed as she dips down - perhaps she can make some of these pests hit the ridge of stone that runs around the top of the bowl. They certainly can't catch /her/.

 

Z'eir sighs heavily as his lifemate takes to the air to follow the green, leaving his rider down below in the groundweyr, panting after Tss'a like an untried teenager. Wiping his hands off on his pants, he tries to control his breathing, sweat beading across brow and upper lip. Jacket is finally peeled off to drop at his booted feet, his eyes never leaving the greenrider who stands so still.

 

(Kahlendroth) Adhaith bugles abruptly, the unexpected happening.  A searing pain lances through him, a cramped wing muscle.  With a second, angry bugle, he peels off from the others and moves to the haven of the ground.

 

(Kahlendroth) Adhaith flies toward Sky Above the Feeding Grounds.

 

Carid cries out, partner to her lifemate's pain.  Suddenly freed from the flight's hold, she all but sprints out to tend to her dragon.

Carid strides purposefully toward Ground Weyrs.

Lii rolls onto her back restlessly, slinging an arm to cover her eyes. Darkness, darkness is all that will cool her boiling eyes.

 

H'navu goes home.

 

(Kahlendroth) Cantoth struggles to keep his wing-strokes steady and to keep even a dragonlength away from the green. All his concentration goes into this, but she speeds up and he loses ground (air?). No words, no noise, no theatrics from this end. Just a desire to keep up and prove that he can do it. Tagging Aiswenath as 'It' would just be the prize.

 

(Kahlendroth) Chesketh does a lazy barrelroll in his ascention to hopeful glory, his rise to power.  He trumpets happily and locks his gaze on the glowing queen, sending the loving fall tree leave-colored thoughts of, <<But you beauty is very... Beautiful!>>  Alright, he's not a poet, so ground him.  The brown pumps his wings again and rises after the green, dipping to the side and keeping his gaze fixed on his goal, the emerald jewel in the sky.

 

(Kahlendroth) Kahlendroth continues upon his silent pursual, the phantom shadow just beyond the horizon. He is there, lurking... but somehow flickers on the end of realization. As dragon's clear the lip, a singular hindfoot comes down, catching the edge to launch off from it. There is a rattle of loosed rock as he lurches forward with a burgeoning speed that slack as soon as the wayward thermal cuts across his wings.

 

Tss'a is hot - so very hot; she's perspiring, even though she's pressed against the cold stone wall of the ground weyr. One hand rips open the remaining two buttons of her long shirt, revealing a wide line of skin down the front of her body. All eyes are on her, but she barely even notices, and certainly doesn't much care. One hand is pressed against the skin over her heart, perhaps in a vain attempt to slow its pounding beat.

 

(Kahlendroth) Aiswenath hisses with effort, further wingbeats increase her speed still further - they're catching up, it didn't work. They didn't crash on the ridge. Suddenly, her wings are twisted, the dragon's strained muscles sending her straight up - vertical, before she literally flips over onto her back and dives back into the interior of the bowl, again just missing the ridge as she rights herself. Slightly slower now - that trick cost her a lot of effort and stamina.

 

And now the rookie greenrider is stripping?  Maybe this isn't so calm after all.  The flash of flesh grabs K'no's gaze and attracts his attention.  The old man looks the herder girl over with more intrest than before, licking his lips then shaking his head.

 

(Kahlendroth) Asuenoth is about as complimentary as a greeting card covered in intestines. Sue's a bit off-target, and has found a few in the pack that incite more rage than a callow youth, no matter the wattage of her hide. His talons scathe these males hides when they swoop near him. His slender body allows him to reel through the pack with the ease of a careless eel through seaweed, and this he does, forcing a pair of browns to collision as he shoots up between them.

 

Sk'lar runs fingers through his dark hair. Forelock is pulled back and away from his dark-irised eyes as fingers comb roughshod, leaving his gaze without a single impediment as it is irresistibly pulled back to the sulty greenrider. Bronzer squeezes his eyes shut as the sight of her damp skin assails his vision, causing a breath to catch. "Ohhhh, for the love of..." he murmurs wryly. These flights are sure killers. 

 

(Kahlendroth) Qwinth follows suit, his shadowed form almost lazily cutting through the air after the green. Pulling up and over the bowl's lip, his tail snapping out to touch the rough stone as his form sails cleanly over, he bugles again, draconic laughter in his mindvoice, puberty-strained tones high and pleased. <<Awww, don't you like them? You /do/ have a nice tail!>> That old blue back at Igen told him the ladies like that compliment, and he's been saving it so! Turning on a wing, he loops back, passing back over the bowl's edge, muscles striving to pull him ahead, another bugle escaping his throat as a lagging blue is pulled abreast of, then passed. <<I'm cooooming to get yoooou!>>

(

Kahlendroth) Cantoth watches...he knows that trick. That's the pass that helps him towards the goal every time. The blue, lagging behind the others, can turn on a tailtip and does so, pouring power into each pump of his wings as he soars after Aiswenath. He is still silent, though, as he strokes the air, closer to the glowing green than before. But is he close enough to tag her 'It' yet? He hopes so.

 

(Kahlendroth) Chesketh is like the graceful falling feather, so when the green does a wacky manuver, he tromps through the bush--so to speak--and dives down after her, wings folded back and spinning as he does so.  When she rights herself he does as well, popping his wings back open to catch the air and swooping in after her, hot on her tail.  Well, hot on her trail.  The brownrider croons to the green, <<You fly pretty, wanna fly with me?>>  The brown's eyes swirl with the quick pace of a whirlpool, violet and yellow mixed in with a trace of blue to create a most nauseating pattern.

 

Z'eir can't help it as his gaze is captured by Tss'a, and the line of skin that shines between the opening of her shirt. Biting his lip, he rubs at the goatee that frames his mouth, head given a shake as he looks down, unable to stop himself as he looks back so that his gaze can hungrily travel over the greenrider. Quiet he is, barely held tension humming across his body.

 

(Kahlendroth) Belluth does not bother with petty compliments or even waist energy for tricks, he moves silently catching and air current here and another there sending him moving across the sky and over the bowl's lip, his wing moving with graceful almost silent strokes. He heads high launching himself upwards with a powerful stroke then turn of his large wings. He whips past a brown and a bronze as the seem be drag racing after the glowing belle, giving out a large tenor bugle of protest to them as he but briefly looks back, before off again his attention is returned to the belle ahead.

 

Kei'a mimics Tss'a in removing her clothing, but she does it without ripping or tearing. She manages to remove her riding jacket without taking the buttons off, too, and drops it to the floor without a second thought. Much cooler this way, she is. Even still, her entire concentration is caught by her tiny blue lifemate and she doesn't notice that the greenrider across the room has done anything at all.

 

Tss'a staggers, her green's sudden vertigo at being upside down causing her to lose her balance. This does wonderful things for the view of her body, of course, but again she doesn't notice. Her eyes are so wide that they threaten to leap clear of her face - she knows fully now that Ais overextended herself there, and she can no longer keep up the velocity that would save her.

 

(Kahlendroth) Kahlendroth comes about upon pinion's point, slicing the air with an agility one wouldn't normally consider of his bulky ilk. Being of the more 'petite' bronzes, liquid grace imbues his form, saturating his every measured move. Pirate's panache tickles along the arch of eyeridges moments before bronzen boy collapses spars, allowing the sails to ripple and luft as the wind tosses over them. He allows gravity to do its worse, bringing him into an abbreviated stoop. But sails are unfurled once more with the snap of taut wings, catching a thermal and wrestling it too his will. The mystery upon the horizon, the privateer in bronzer finery... he has finally come.

 

Lii is luckily spared the sweltering image. "Sk'laaaar... did anyone bring refreshments?" Or beer. Beer would be fine. The bluerider arches a little and scoots to a new spot for the promise of cooler stone. She is much unaware of her surroundings, much very much attuned to the aftertaste of blood in the back of her mouth.

 

K'no whistles quietly as he watches Tss'a expose herself by accident.  "Knew she'd get used to weyr life..." he comments with a wry grin, but he's out of his mind.  Dragonlust pumps through his veins as he watches the girl, seing the duel image of Aiswenath in his mind mixed with the young greenrider before him.  "Oh, Tss'a..." he murmers, leaning forward and gazing at the girl, hungerily.

 

(Kahlendroth) Aiswenath glances about, her eyes miniature purple stars as she glares at the closest chasers. A brown on her left and another overhead, a bronze beneath, an intelligent blue straight ahead and closing fast... She is running quickly out of options. Feeling suddenly claustrophobic, she continues straight ahead, directly away from the rim she recently re-crossed.

 

Z'eir beins to unbutton his shirt in hopes of catching a bit of the breeze that sometimes makes it's way through the entrance to the weyr. Still, his gaze remains on Tss'a, and as she looses her balance, his feet take him forward a step, a hand going out to help before it's snatched back. No touche, remember old man?

 

Arah pulls a knee up to her chest as she leans against the wall, fingers are interlaced across that knee. Head is rest against the wall her eyes closes as she watches the flight from her dragon's point of view, hand moves from her knee to brush the hair from her face which clings to her face from dampness as she tries to deal with heat that comes with dragonlust.

 

Sk'lar mutters another curse under his breath, head turning to the side to cant at an angle that gives hint to the inner turmoil. Hand reaches over to smooth over the front of his shirt, palm's perspiration transferring to the cloth the moment it touches the fine linen. Seemingly emotionless gaze flickers to Lii at her query, equaled with a just as emotionless voice, "Try the cupboard over there. They tend to stock some things." Gee, has he been here quite a few times before. There is a moment, and he is glancing to Tss'a, but only seems to see that fevers of his lifemate.

 

(Kahlendroth) Cantoth spies the green tiring and redoubles his efforts, intent on ending the game as the winner this time. He may be quiet and a bit small not to mention a little slow, but size and sound and speed have nothing to do with how good a player he can be. It's all about endurance and agility, of which he has plenty.

 

Tss'a staggers to her feet, her muscles as weary as those of her lifemate. She glances around, piercing each of the people clustered nearby with a gaze full of lust, challenge, and trepidation. Aiswenath weakens... she knows it can't go on for long now. The countdown is almost over.

 

(Kahlendroth) Chesketh is a hotshot, yo.  The brown dragon dives in after the green, pulling his wings back some as he makes his way down on his fleeing prey.  He'll catch this one yet, by Faranath.  The brown bugles again and croons softly as he slowly descends, wings spreading ever so slowly to steady his drop.  <<I've got you now...>> he calls out to her in his earthen mind-voice, the accents flashing like a pair of blinking cat eyes.  And... now!  The brown pulls his wings back and plummets sharply towards the green.

 

(Kahlendroth) Asuenoth suddenly notices that he's about to become pretty seriously injured by a particularly vindictive male he managed to gash across the snout. Somehow escaping certain brutality, he unleashes a furious scream-Aiswenath! Her careening, glistening body has been rediscovered in the hard glare of his loveless eyes, and this image repulses him. And yet  his wings flex close to his svelte sides and he pursues her. If his morality will suffer at her caprice, revenge will be extracted.

 

(Kahlendroth) Qwinth watches Aiswenath, and knows it's time to put an end to this race. Wings cup the wind, uses them, then tosses them aside like a forgotten toy. There's something else he wishes this day, and it barrels straight ahead of him. The game is for real this time, and the bronze puts all his knowledge into play, for once serious as he makes his plans. Darting down and beneath her, he hopes to surprise her, bronzen form turning over and midnight talons reaching out to capture her. Tag, you're it, my lovely green.

 

(Kahlendroth) Kahlendroth draws over the flickering shadows as the sun emerges over the Weyr's rim, they dapple his hide in a dizzying array of light and dark that seems to make him ethereal, without substance. And yet leading spars angle, deigning one last caress with the darkness before bursting into the light. He emerges from the deep below, crashing the tensile barrier of sunlight and shadow, reaching up and after. Verdigris shrouded doubloon, plunder adorning the very skies, he extends with a possessive lurch, meaning to wrap and entangle, enrapture and contain. Ever after, ever more.

 

(Kahlendroth) Belluth folds his wings as smooth as they could possibly get against his earthen hide as he dives for the glowing belle. Wings are suddenly unfurled just enough to slow his dive to keep him from crashing into the green but not to hinder his speed enough completely cause him to be beat because of his hesitation. Tenor bugle is emitted from deep within his cream-dipped throat as he reaches out with ebon-dipped talons to ensnare the fleeing beauty. He shall not just let his bell escape.

 

"Bosh that, I'm not moving," Lii sighs, lifting her forearm for a looksee at T'ssa, and a surreptitous glance at the maleriders. "Faranth and a /half/. I wish people were as good-looking everyday as they are during a flight."

 

Sk'lar shakes his head in response to Lii's words, dark forelock coming down once more to brush his brow. "This is ridiculous," he murmurs once more, not at all amused by the sound of his voice. Mouth draws to the side with a wry grin, deepening his solitary dimple to illegal depths with the ferocity of the expression as his eyes land on Tss'a once more. "Come on..." Culmination would be good. Very, very good.

 

(Kahlendroth) Aiswenath makes up her mind. There are three chasers above her, one ahead and many behind. She can fly no faster, but gravity - gravity is useful. She dives down, folding her wings and angling for the pens, far below. What's this!? There are two underneath - no matter. Wings snap out, twisted to maneuver her around them - but no. No dancer is she, but a stolid and dependable worker. Her mass doesn't move like that, and though she slides barely - even almost touching - past Qwinth, her desperation puts her far, far too close to Kahlendroth. Far too close indeed. A bugle is given as her wing is fouled, her momentum fatally slowed.

 

(Kahlendroth) Asuenoth detests his flesh, his whole body, and the very ichor that invigorates all these parts and sent him like a witless drone after Aiswenath. The evil of the female race is cemented again, like it has been so many other occasions.   

 

(Kahlendroth) Asuenoth flies toward Sky Above the Feeding Grounds.

 

(Kahlendroth) Kahlendroth will be happy to bring her to a death of another sort, but for now his wings buoy, stretching wide to ride the currents. Bronze entwines with the smaller green, curling about her form, taking her away... away where the passions of the moment can be sated.

 

(Kahlendroth) Qwinth bugles once, and since the lovely green got pass him, he pulls his wings in and darts down towards the lake, his mind a mass of confusion that will all too soon be forgotten.

 

(Kahlendroth) Qwinth catches the aire with shadowed bronzen wings toward Sky Above the Feeding Grounds.

 

(Kahlendroth) Chesketh rumbles and snaps his wings open, rising aloft on a fiery updraft.  <<He's not good enough for you!>> He cries out, brown mindspeak strained with anger.  He'll just go find a herdbeast to play tag of doom with now.

 

(Kahlendroth) Chesketh flies toward Sky Above the Feeding Grounds.

Lii yawns. "That wasn't so bad," she decides shakily, ascending from floor to feet more rapidly than a scorched hamster from a flame.

 

Lii goes home.

 

Z'eir turns on a heel, feeling his lifemate's disappointment, and after grabbing his jacket from the floor, heads out into the bowl.

K'no lets out a quiet mutter and a glare at Sk'lar and makes his way out of the Ground Weyrs.  "If anybody needs me, I'll be raiding the Caverns."  Who'd be needing an old fogey like him?

 

Tss'a cries out, arching her back, her words lost in the emotion and passion that runs through her. Her body half-collapses, her thoughts ... completely lost in the flood. She begins to fall backwards.

 

K'no walks toward Ground Weyrs.

Z'eir strolls with a loose gait toward Ground Weyrs.

(Kahlendroth) Belluth rumbles turns quickly on a wing, as he darts downward heading for a nice quite spot to brood about it all.

 

Arah strides elegantly toward Ground Weyrs.

Mysti flitters toward Ground Weyrs.

 

Sk'lar draws in a ragged breath, eyes flaring open as his often unlucky lifemate manages to capture and plunder the maiden. It isn't even a breath later that he is lurching towards Tss'a, to catch her in vaguely the same way his own dragon managed. He crouches slightly, arm coming down behind her legs as he lifts Tss'a and takes her off to a secluded corner.