Difference between revisions of "Logs:Niyath's Second Flight"

Yashira nods to B'var, pausing a moment. "Huh. You look familiar," she informs him, eyeing him more now.

B'var nods, offering with a gesture to pour Yashira a cup as well. Her comment draws a mild grin. "Yeah, I used to live at Telgar, briefly. Came with my dad, when he became Weyrleader."

Jenna comes up from the inner caverns, bringing a mug with her, and absently pushing up the arms of a very ratty looking sweater. Behind her is trailing a younger bluerider, mouth hanging open. He heads over to his mates, and hisses, "Do you know what she just *did*!" The conversation level drops some, and then the whole group bursts out laughing. Jenna seems rather oblivious, calling out, "Fort's duties - Niyath said we had a visitor. Along with the fact that she desperately itches again. Hey, B'var."

N'sales has arrived.

Fiena has arrived.

Yashira nods again, grunting to give her acceptance of his offer. "Thanks. That'd do it. Your name starts with a B, right?" She strides toward the table, pausing only to salute Jenna. "Telgar's Duties to Fort and her Queens," she announces.

N'sales comes rushing in, pulling on his tunic over his wet hair, calling out to those in ear shot, "Did Jenna come through.." and spotting the goldrider with a sweater on he stops, out of breath, obviously a little relieved.

B'var nods again, fixing another mug. He nods absently toward Jenna and then doubletakes, watching her move past into the cavern. "Yeah. B'var," he tells Yashira. Chanth's rider. Sorry. And Fort's duties, too."

Fiena follows soon after N'sales, jumping back into her boots. The sight of the clothed Weyrwoman causes a relieved sigh to come from her lips, just as she finishes doing up the buckle on her right boot. "Good thing.."

Jenna looks around at N'sales, expression entirely innocent. Whatever condition she apparently left the bronzer and Fiena in, she seems perfectly fine now. If clad in an outfit that looks like something even thr drudges wouldn't wear. Too tight or too big, it doesn't seem to belong to her. "I'm right here, Norse. Sheesh, you don't have to yell. And no saluting, please. Just Jenna's fine. Sorry I couldn't make the hatching the other night, but Leah wouldn't let me." Yashira nods to Jenna. "Yup. Well, some dragons hatched, some people Impressed. The usual." She squints at B'var as she takes the mug. "Var. One of N'var's lot, right. Yes. You're everywhere."

N'sales makes his way a little out of breath, nodding to the Telgar brown rider. "Duties to Telgar" he says eyeing Jenna. He does not comment on Jenna's reproach of his yelling but rather smiles to her then to says to B'var, "Evening B'var." He grabs a mug of klah then trying to catch his breath, all the while keeping a lcose eye on Jenna lest she do something else that she may regret later.

B'var gives Yashira an amused smirk. "Like a plague. Yep. Maybe I should change my name." He filters down to take a seat and get comfortable while occasionally eying Jenna out of the corner of his eye.

B'var then lifts a hand in greeting to N'sales, his gaze flicking between he, Fiena and Jenna and seeming even more amused.

Yashira nods a little. "Guess you could, yeah," she says. She absently trails along after and takes a seat near B'var. She glances around the room with a vaguely puzzled expression, one eyebrow arching.

Yashira adds to N'sales, "Duties."

Jenna holds out her cup wordlessly to Norse. The implication being that he should fill it. Then she frowns. "Waitaminute. I might as well just get some skins of it, if I'm gonna have to haul my butt down to the lake again to oil Niyath some more." So she sets about doing this, as the aunties start to eye each other nervously again. The klah consumption has increased exponentially. This could be a problem. Then she says politely to Yashira, "Heard you had a gold in the clutch. Three bronzes too. But I didn't hear how many of the other colors?"

Fiena seems quite shy in the presence of all these she doesn't know, but chimes out the appropriate "Duties," to them all.

Yashira makes a face. "Augh, of course not," she says, slightly disgruntled. "Six browns, six blues, seven greens."

N'sales eyes Jenna nervously then chimes up, "Skins of it? Don't you think..." he trails off not wanting to get into an arguement with the goldrider here. Me then smiles at here, "Here let me me fill them for you Jenna." He says innocently.

Jenna oohs, as she shoves a stopper into the first skin. There are three she's apparently interested in filling. "Six browns! That's a nice number. Browns are the best anyway. - Thanks, Norse. - Did you have a lot of weyrbred? Or was it mostly holdbred?"

N'sales offers a hand for the skins Jenna is filling, taking them from her to fill them for her. "Not a problem, heavily sweatened right?" he smiles reaching for the skin she already filled.

S'lek has arrived.

Yashira shakes her head. "Holdbreds, I think? I wasn't looking after them this time, so I'm not certain on that count." She has a sip of her drink, nodding. "Good that browns are appreciated, but all of them are good at something."

S'lek slips in, freshly clothed and washed with his hair still damp. He looks around, seeming relieved to see that Jenna is actually clothed, and sneaks over toward the serving table for something to drink. And not juice, this time.

B'var lifts his foot to the opposite chair and slouches to get even more comfortable. Though he keeps a curious eye on Jenna's strange activity, he listens attentively to Yashira's account of the hatching. Seeing S'lek, he lifts a cheerful hand in greeting. "Hey."

Niyath> Zerth senses that Niyath notes your arrival with a sleepy croon, and promptly rolls over from where she sits at the lake, going back to sleep.

Niyath senses that Zerth responds with a rumble of greeting, a hint of bewilderment in his tone. « You are sleeping? »

X'tan has arrived.

Jenna hands over the skins to N'sales, chattering aimlessly to the folks at large in the caverns. "My foster stood, but her dragon wasn't shelled yet." She pushes absently at the arms of the too large sweater, trying to keep from swimming in it. "Though she says she wants to be a Ladyharperbaker, so we'll see. And of course, Niyath wants *more* oiling. I think I should just dump the vat on her and let her be satisfied with that."

"B'var! Hi," S'lek greets the other rider cheerfully, with a wave, as he sloshes wine into a glass and gulps from it. No sissy sipping for S'lek, nope. He refills the glass for the top, then wanders over toward where B'var is sitting. "You just in from duties? How's it going?"

Niyath> Zerth senses that Niyath is trying to, more than half into her dreams.

Yashira grunts once. "Must be Yvera. I heard lots about her." She shrugs some, having another gulp from her mug. "Hey, how is J'nas? I thought I saw him at the Hatching the other day, but I was trying to keep Iralne with me at the same time so I didn't get to speak to him."

B'var eyes S'lek with bemusement. "Uh, yeah, actually. You ok?" he asks.

N'sales takes the skins and fills them with water when Jenna isn't looking, using the one skin she already filled and making it a point to fill her mug with it so she can see it has klah. He then sets that skin aside when she isn't looking again handing her the other two skins she gave him and another he picked up so that she now has three skins filled with water. Yeah he'll get it later. "There ya go Jenna."

S'lek nods his head. "Oh, fine. It's been ah, an interesting afternoon, but you know." He leans a little closer to speak quietly.

X'tan looks around the cavern as he enters, "High Reaches duties to Fort and her queens." He looks around the room, his gaze pausing for a moment on Jenna, then quickly moving on.

Sh'yar has arrived.

S'lek mutters to B'var, "... all... and she just... out of... naked... Half expected... eating... and she... It was..."

Yashira raises her mug to reply, "Telgar's Duties."

Sh'yar deposits a small boy on the floor, "Alright son, go find your mother. High Reaches Duties."

Genevieve has arrived.

Jenna informs Yashira, "He's a complete poopyhead." And she actually seems rather serious about this. "Oh, thank you, Norse. And I really should head out and finish oiling Niyath. - Um, duties to the Reaches," she offers to the entering riders.

Niyath senses that Zerth pulls his mind-touch back, not wanting to disturb the queens rest.

Yashira just blinks at that a few times. Poopyhead?

Sh'yar smiles, "Thanks, anyone know where I can find 'Retta to let her know I brought our son back?"

B'var starts laughing at what S'lek confides. A half-surreptitious glance given Jenna, again, and he draws the young bronzerider to a seat at his table. "Which one?" he asks.

N'sales nods to Sh'yar, "Fort's duties, and sorry, can't say I have seen her this afternoon, but then I have been kind of pre-occupied." he then casts a look at Jenna.

Sh'yar says "Have things been busy lately? Oh I'm Sh'yar brown Gyreventh's rider."

Genevieve meanders into the cavern, hands clasping and unclasping in front of her in bored way. Sadly the chairs and her hips and shins do not get to make their usual salutations to one another - she's paying attention, likely due to the lack of hides about her person, very unusual for a girl who's constant companions seem to be various crusty old hides. She moves towards the serving table with surprising grace, stopping to pick up a plate daintally and fill it.

Yashira gets distracted by a stain on the hem of her shirt; she sighs. "They never get the kid puke out."

Jenna adds, rather artlessly, "If anyone's interested in helping me oil Niyath, I could likely use some help. She's so picky lately. - Well met. And *Hello* X'tan! G'rad was here earlier, and I was going to make him eat all those hides, but I told him he could just drop them between instead."

"Some guy from 'Reaches," S'lek says, then nodding in Jenna's direction as she supplies the name. "G'rad. He was being kind of obnoxious to her."

G'rad has arrived.

Sh'yar smiles, "Your queen let's others oil her?"

X'tan makes his way across the cavern towards Genevieve. His way is much less interrupted by random chair and tables, he manuvers through them all without hitting anything. "Genevieve, wasn't it, ma'am?" He asks. Then hearing his name across the cavern, he turns and stands, unsure of which way to go.

Jenna snorts at Sh'yar. "She's sleeping, so she better, if she knows what's good for her."

Yashira abandons the stain, shrugging and grabbing her mug again for another few gulps.

Genevieve glances up at X'tan, offering a shy smile, "Yes - and please, there's no need to ma'am me, Rider. Fort's duties." The Record Keeper murmurs in her soft alto. At Jenna's words Gen's blue-hued gaze flickers towards Jenna as she speaks of the hides - flashing there almost in a glare as she talks about the hides, wrinkling her nose before turning to look back at X'tan, "What brings you here this eve, Rider X'tan?"

Sh'yar chuckles, "I've never helped oil a queen before. I'd like to give you a hand. Hey G'rad, I thought that chubby bronze was Behemoth!"

B'var looks from S'lek to Jenna to the entering bronzerider. "Ohh," he says, as if this explains thing--even though he still looks a little confused. He covers it by nonchalantly taking a sip from his mug.

A'lex has arrived.

Jenna starts collecting the skins N'sales filled. "And there's plenty of klah here - hey, Norse, these don't feel very warm..."

A'lex makes his way into the Fort Weyr Living cavern with a package of scrolls under his arm, "Telgar's Greetings to Fort and her Queens. I've got a package for your cook."

N'sales looks over at X'tan when Jenna calls out his name then giving X'tana look before looking back at Jenna then to Sh'yar. Mumbling under his breath he starts to say something but then rather than mubling anything he starts to smile at Jenna again, not the malicious smile of tricking her again but rather a different smile all together. "Um Jenna, I can help."

X'tan smiles shyly at Genevieve, "Errands, again, m...Genevieve." He blushes, "But I saw you over here, and wanted to apologize for the other day." His cheeks are bright red now, and his eyes slips back over to Jenna. Then back to Genevieve, he waits for some sort of response.

N'sales looks to Jenna nodding, "Umm, maybe they have cooled in the skins."

G'rad strides back in from the bowl, looking every bit as if he's returned from a good run, though not at all winded for the effort, "Reaches Duties.." But he pauses to nod to Sh'yar, "Yes, Behemeth has taken it in his head he likes the dining at Fort."

Niyath> The air is thick, still and cold. Fog clings like petulant children to peaks, lingers in the dead air and dampens noise and light. Glows have been set out by the lake, hazy in the noisome air, only vaguely illuminating the near bronze gleam of Niyath's hide.

Yashira frowns in A'lex's direction. "Jays, how many sharding things is she requesting from us, anyway? I just dropped off some hides or something for her."

A'lex catches Yashira's eye and blushes a bit, "Well... actually, she sent me with duplicates. I think she was afraid you'd get lost or something." He grins and shrugs.

Jenna tries to wave to A'lex, and very nearly drops one of the skins she was showing N'sales. "Fort's duties - what is it? More ways to cook meat? Trader Rolan got rid of some of the surprlus the dragons killed, but not all of it."

S'lek shrugs, saying to B'var, "It's all just been a little weird, but... hopefully she won't be proddy much longer. Did you hear about Leah and P'ter having to lock up the records room? I don't know /why/ she's so fixated on getting rid of those hides."

A'lex nods politely to the Goldrider, "I'm not sure. I try to stay as far away from kitchen stuff as I can... After Masterbaker Ofira banished me from Telgar's, I... well, I just keep my distance.

"Locked the room? Huh," B'var says with a little shake of his head. He looks around the suddenly busy cavern, waving cheerfully to A'lex, and commenting. "Something tells me, no, she won't be proddy much longer S'lek."

Yashira immediately scowls. "Thought I'd get *lost* or something? Dimglow. Track a beast over tundra for days, get lost in another Weyr, my arse..." Mutter, mutter.

S'lek looks around, too. "Huh, you're right. Lots of riders from other places. You'd think someone'd beat out a drum message or something, wouldn't you?"

Kaylira has arrived.

Genevieve awards X'tan with a warmer, less timid smile, "Oh, there's no need to apologize, Rider. Everything was taken care of. Weyrwoman Leah and Weyrleader P'ter locked up the record rooms - only a few of us have the keys." She pats a key hanging from a string at her waist as evidence.

Jenna blinks at A'lex. Even that simple of a thing was too much to process. Four of her five wits went haring off, and now is the whole woman governed by one. "I'm going to oil Niyath," she says, regardless of what the Telgari rider asked or commented on. "I'm going to oil her because she needs to look good, and because she's not going to take me by surprise again. I'm not taking my eyes off her until she wakes up." Seems the number of riders congregating has pricked her thumb as well.

A'lex shakes his head, "Bakers... can't live with them, can't live without them... for long."

Lystra has arrived.

Kaylira cheerfully calls greetings and duties.

Yvera has arrived.

A'lex smiles and nods at the Goldrider, "Have... fun?"

Niyath> High above the bowl, Konnevath emerges from Between with a blast of cold air!

Sh'yar pulls off his gloves, "Anything to drink? It's warmer here than back at the reaches."

X'tan nods to Genevieve, his blush still a warm red across his cheeks. "I just," he pauses, "I felt bad about it. But I'm glad everything got worked out."

N'sales watches the other riders stream in with an amused smile before giving the new riders a duties as is custom. He looks at Jenna with a bumused smile.

Yvera, hair a mess all around her head, shrugs out of a riding jacket as she warily peeks into the living cavern. It's only a brief second before she notices Jenna and stops dead in her tracks before backing out quickly. Very quickly.

Lystra jogs into the cavern, a large package under one arm. It is wrapped in a thin cloth and gives off a sweet smell wherever Lystra walks. The woman stands on her tiptoes and looks around the cavern anxiously. "Where is he!" she asks.

Yvera has left.

Niyath> From the Feeding Grounds, Gyreventh swoops down on the small heard cornering a couple of heardbeats against the wall.

Divya has arrived.

Yashira frowns, head turning toward the bowl. "Oh, jays," she hisses.

Kaylira frowns as well. "I have perfect timing.."

Sh'yar looks outside, "Oh dear..."

S'niah has arrived.

S'niah, a swarthy bronzerider from Benden Weyr, swaggers into the 'caverns. "Where's the wine?" he calls, eyes drifting across the gathered throng.

A'lex looks at Yashira, "What?"

Divya wanders in from outside. "High Reaches' duties to Fort Weyr!" The different knots of the crowd sinks in slowly yet incorrectly and she says, "Uh-oh. I didn't walk in on a Weyr meeting did I?"

Niyath> From the Feeding Grounds, Decarath circles - once, twice, three times... hey. This isn't a good selection! He rumbles unhappily, mood darkening further.

Perhaps blushing is contageous - Genevieve's cheeks redden slightly, "As am I." She murmurs, placing a last spoonful of tubers onto her plate. "As long as *that*," and a glance is tossed at Jenna, "Weyrwoman doesn't manage to get a key, I'm happy, well, except for the not being able to do my work outside of the record rooms." She gives a fluttery sort of sigh and a shrug.

S'lek decides to drink some more wine. Yay, wine.

Yashira eyes A'lex. "Nraith hasn't got it yet? Decarath is trying to blood. And now I know why everyone's been giving Jenna funny looks."

Niyath> From the Feeding Grounds, Rhouenth lands in the feeding ground with an audible thud. He gazes around the grounds with sharp eyes. A wherry, not watching where it is going crosses the large brown's path. Rhouenth snarls and stalks toward it. Before the wherry has time to register what is happening, the brown dragon grabs it in his talons, shaking it violently before throwing it to the ground, it's neck cracking. The brown snarls once more before dipping his snout into the warm wherry drinking deep of its life blood.

Niyath> From the Feeding Grounds, Gyreventh snatches up one of his cornered morsels and quickly rips out the throat of the large animal. Brown lips fasten onto the spurting wound and quickly drain the carcass free of the sanguine liquid.

Niyath> From the Feeding Grounds, Orenth starts to drop down on a smaller buck, raoring angrily as a brown tries to get there first. He manages to get the buck before the brown carrying it off to safe distance where he summarily rips the throat open spilling the steaming blood into his open maw.

R'yat has arrived.

Kaylira mutters to herself, "I came for a quiet visit. I swear he's starting to sniff these things out."

Niyath> From the Feeding Grounds, Kannanth hops the fence and lashes out with a claw, catching a young herdbeast along the flank. It screams and stumbles, and Kannanth is upon it in moments, snapping its neck and dipping his head to slash open the throat and drink.

Sh'yar says "Uh... meeting no... I think plans have just been changed..."

Jenna eyes the maleriders as a group, backing off slightly from everyone. She stoops down to scoop up a skin she dropped, the fog beginning to creep in from the bowl. Today, what beauty she has and her brain go not together. She says stupidly, "I do not like your looks, I promise you. Have you no modesty, no maiden shame, no touch of bashfulness? She's not awake yet. Leave me alone."

Niyath> From the Feeding Grounds, Chanth eyes all the strange dragons with a surly possessive expression. Hissing at the nearest, a Reaches brown, he then takes to the air to circle and find a beast to blood.

A'lex fehs, "Nraith doesn't chase anymore... he hasn't since I gave up my Weyrleader's knot."

X'tan is still blushing, but suddenly he's distracted. He turns to stare outside, "Zerth! No! Shells, they aren't going to have any herdbeasts left!" There is a pause, a second, "Oh!" And he looks even more frightened now, if possible.

A'lex looks worriedly towards the bowl.

"I heard there was a junior gold proddy at Fort," S'niah agrees jovially, catching the last few words of Yashira's talk with A'lex. Eavesdropping? Why yes, he will thanks. "Niyath, isn't that her name? Which one is she?" He leers congenially at all the women.

Niyath> From the Feeding Grounds, Randoth arrives a bit late and hisses angrily at everyone and everything around. The fence itself gets a threatening bugle as he hops it. Then he lets out a growl-like sound before looking for a prey, his head swiveling. Soon he's grabbed and messily beheaded a small wherry he longingly sucks on...

A'lex says "Oh, fardles."

Niyath> From the Feeding Grounds, Pheirth espies a fat beastie for himself and quickly pounces, tearing with glee into the flesh and lapping up the resulting flow.

Niyath> From the Feeding Grounds, Nraith comes over from the east.

Niyath> From the Feeding Grounds, Zerth circles only once before falling upon a large wherry. He kills it with a jerk, breaking the beasts neck. Then he falls on it to drink.

Niyath> From the Feeding Grounds, Konnevath has abandoned his rider only moments ago, yet she is already out of his memory. He roars at the other males and selects a small, fat ovine for his first kill. Blood spurts momentarily before he sucks it up and drinks greedily.

Niyath> From the Feeding Grounds, Nraith swoops in, the typical old fogey trying to party with the youngins.

Yashira eyes A'lex. "You lucky --- heh. Heh, heh." She smirks at him, amused now.

N'sales looks at Jenna then mutters, "Shard it." He looks about the room then eyes dart to look Jenna squarly in the face. Grumbling he mutters, "No time for oiling now, the males are blooding."

R'yat strides in, wiping his face with the back of his hand, muttering words he formally forbid his brother to utter in other circumstances. "What the..."

Niyath> From the Feeding Grounds, Sandareth, a dusky Benden bronze, swoops over the fence with the same possessiveness as if he were back at home. He circles the group once, then picks his prey and his landing spot: a herdbeast stolen out from under the talons of a Fort brown, and right in front of that brown respectively.

Niyath> And yet, almost as soon as Jenna's finished scolding the riders, Niyath's eyes open. Frailty, thy name is woman. She's aloft in an instant, bounding over the feeding grounds fence this time, rather than crashing through it. Thank Faranth for that, given how few beasts actually remain at this point. She lands in the middle of the grounds, tail lashing. These few, these happy few, this band of brothers shall shortly her suitors make.

A'lex starts to shake his head, "I'm DONE with this... he's not supposed to DO this."

Niyath> Nraith trumpets a greeting to Niyath.

Kaylira rubs her temples. "They don't listen very well."

Genevieve blinks and follows the young Reaches' bronzerider's glance. "What? What's going on?" Oblivious? Well, she has been locked in the record rooms. She picks a tuber off her plate and sticks it in her mouth.

Niyath> Randoth spits the wherryhead he was sucking, mostly toward the arriving gold. Well, could be a present...

Niyath> Decarath circles again, finally choosing a wee chubby caprine to take out. It's no contest, really; with a precision strike, it goes down. Decarath clamps his jaws around its body and starts sucking the blood out.

Yashira stands up, laughing by now. "Awww, poor bronzerider," she tells A'lex. "No sympathy here."

Niyath> Orenth looks up from his kill as the gold comes in, giving a low rumble at the other males to stay clear as one gets to close to his kill before he has had a chance to finish it completely.

Niyath> Chanth swoops in, seeing Sandarath's theft. Even while the dusky bronze celebrates, this younger Fort brown steals the beast from under his talons. At least, that was the attempt. The result is the beast being ripped in half. Most of its blood spent on the bowl floor.

Kaylira blinks at Yashira, "If I didn't agree so much I'd say that was mean."

Jenna pales, running in Niyath's wake, out into the bowl. She screams out as she goes, with enough force to burst a blood vessel in her eye, "Don't you *dare* eat them this time!" She will chasten this high minded strumpet! For almost as soon as she finished chiding the maleriders, Niyath came awake and roared into the grounds. Frailty, thy name is woman!

Niyath> Rhouenth raises his snout from the long dead wherry and growls, looking around for another. He spots one, there! A much smaller brown from Ista stalks toward the same large wherry but Rhouenth snarls again, snapping his teeth angrily. He darts toward the wherry, grabbing it up in his talons and spreading his wings, lifting it about twenty feet in the air. With a bugle he drops the wherry, listening with satisfaction as the bones crunch as it hits the ground. His wings fold against his body and he falls to the beast, his still bloody snout quickly finding its way to the warm blood of his newest kill.

Niyath> Gyreventh tosses the first exsanguinated corpse aside and makes a grab for the second hissing at local wherry necked bronze that tries to snatch it away from him. What does he care, more of the crimson vitae for him to make him the stronger. He makes quick work dispatching the animal by ripping it's head off and drinking the poor thing down like the last of a six pack.

Niyath> There's a very odd shine to the Elder Telgari Bronze's hide. A shine he's not shone in many many turns. As if to prove that he's still 'got it,' Nraith waits until a nice happy something or other shreiks by (no matter to him, he'll eat anything) and pounces on it like he was a second year weyrling just learning to pounce.

Divya finally puts two and two together with help from Sh'yar and Jenna. She mutters her thanks to her fellow 'Reaches rider and looks around for something to drink to take with her.

Yashira glances at Kaylira, shrugs. "Mean? It's the truth, that's all."

Fort LC> N'sales rushes out after the goldrider, calling out to his bronze to only blood, followed with the same to Jenna.

Fort LC> A'lex rolls his eyes, "Well crap."

Fort LC> Kaylira shrugs and nods. "I know. But bronzers do have such thin hides." A glint of teasing in her beginning to strain voice.

Fort LC> R'yat rolls his eyes ceilingwards. "Great..." But he's hurrying behind the crowd.

Fort LC> S'niah almost languidly snatches a glass of wine from a nearby table, tosses it back, then strolls after Jenna. At quite a fast pace, mind, but a stroll nonetheless.

From the Feeding Grounds, Niyath lashes out, rending the fog to spill and bathe in blood. Shortly shall all her labors end and she shall have the air at freedom! But what's this? The males here before, and no sup for her? Shrieking her displeasure, she actually has to chase a beast down, lumbering comically across the grounds before she runs it into the dust. She fells the cow, and then bellows defiance, her will most malignant against her rider's. The scream is quickly cut off as she buries her maw in the carcass, blooding only. Once done, she splits the gray air asunder again, circling over what remains of the herd to pull down another victim to her lust. She is a stony adversary, an inhuman wretch, incapable of pity, void and empty from any dram of mercy. A third and then a fourth beast - wherries this time - are taken down as sacrifice to her lust.

Yashira nods to Kaylira. "They do. They need to toughen up some. That's like... help with toughening up. He doesn't seem to be crying, anyway."

From the Feeding Grounds, When the fancy is upon him to beget a lady, it takes but the work of a moment for the mightiest of bronzes to commence his blooding. Each beast he doth entrap with claw to the cause is dispatched with swiftness, but the cast of his eye would suggest that one should not tie up the libertine in a field of feasts: he may be a mountain of mad flesh, but such a keech can with his very bulk take up the rays o'th'beneficial sun, and keep it from the earth. 'twould take more than the humours of the distended vessels of the petrified beasts to render the calderic creature to the manner of a sluggard. And, so fuelled by bloodwyne, Behemoth prepares for the chase, eye ever upon the bountiful prize.

Lystra shakes her head, growling under her breath. "What nerve! You know I had business!" she yells to no one in particular. The package is still held under her arm, forgotten, but still smelling sweet.

From the Feeding Grounds, Sandareth sups of his chosen prey, draining it nearly dry before he abandons it for choicer flesh. There! He screams Niyath's beauty, rearing back on his hindlegs to vane his wings at her.

From the Feeding Grounds, Nraith pauses to admire the feisty Gold's style. This will be a fun chase indeed. WHAM! Another heardbeast falls to the lash of his tail and he buries his muzzle in it's sticky innards.

Behemoth bespoke Niyath with « Be not such an irksome brawling scold, golden lady! I mean to have thee, and I am sure though you know what temperance should be, you know not what it is. So, dip thy muzzle in the barrel of Behemoth, and drink deep of the liquor: fill thy vacancy with mine voluptuousness, I am more then man than ever the beasts that ate here e'er dreamed on. So to it! Fly as you might, you SHALL be mine! »

Fort LC> "Last time, they nearly..." X'tan trails off, staring after Jenna. Then he runs after the others.

Niyath> Nraith, Konnevath, Gyreventh, Behemoth, Rhouenth, Orenth, Pheirth, Decarath, Randoth, Kannanth, Chanth, and Zerth sense that Niyath's attention ranges over you all as she licks the blood from her muzzle. Lust roils in her thoughts, reaching out to each and every one of you. The kindling is set ablaze, the fire leaping aloft. She has journeyed in this undiscovered country but once before. Instinct drives her to assess you all in that split second before she takes to the skies. Oft expectation fails, and most oft there where most it promises; and oft it hits where hope is coldest, and despair most fits.

From the Feeding Grounds, Randoth keeps looking around for more but it seems something is restraining his urge for he keeps suckling on his carcass until there nothing left in it, clawing at the ground angrily, snapping once as an olderbrown gets too close.

Fort LC> B'var only reluctantly sets his mug down, taking his time as he gets up, straightens his jacket, and wanders out to the bowl.

From the Feeding Grounds, Rhouenth shoots quick eyes across the grounds and catches sight of the glowing gold. His head lifts as he considers her for a moment, but it quickly drops down again into the warmth of the wherry's blood. His eyes are still locked on her gleaming hide and he watches as he drinks.

From the Feeding Grounds, Orenth quickly makes work of a cow this time, oblivious to the lack of larger beasts and the need for the others to feed as well. Let them suffer he shall claim his prize. hHe splits the hide open with claws deftly making quick work of its vital essence.

From the Feeding Grounds, Konnevath abandons his first kill, and selects a nice fluffy ovine for his second one. It is rapidly drained of life-giving blood, and dropped upon the first kill. He picks another young ovine by grabbing hold of its neck and back. He uses his strong neck muscles to throw the animal toward the ravening gold, as a gift? bribe? incentive? He doesn't wait to see how she accepts it before killing and devouring a plump wherry, blood trickling out his massive maw.

From the Feeding Grounds, Gyreventh lies in wait, every muscle of his body poised on the edge of action. His whirling violet eyes focuses only upon the shimmering golden queen, she being the only other object in his universe. Let the others slurp on their stringy wherries and dirty porcines the strength from two blooded heardbeasts is flowing through him.

Niyath senses that Orenth is watching you with heat and intent in his eyes. « You shall not escape me this time. »

From the Feeding Grounds, What rubbish! What offal! A bellow of rage is given. The young Fortian queen absolutely detests wherry. The carcasses, after blooding, are torn apart in her wrath. Niyath glares around at the males. None here are good enough to suit her. Snarling, she leaps aloft in the fog, clearly desiring that they be better strangers. As she moves, Jenna pelts off towards the northeastern bowl, and the guest ledge.

Niyath> Randoth is already crouching while waiting and licking the mess he did of his wherry, purple eyes glued on the shiny golden hide...

Niyath> Chanth again looks for a victim but the pickings are scant. He finally spies a scrawny bovine through the fog. Wings displayed, he drops down on it and finally bloods.

Niyath> Decarath drops the caprine, letting it thump to the ground. He roars at Niyath, crouching again and leaping skyward to follow her.

Niyath> Kannanth roughly tosses his animal aside. Gone - she's gone! She can't have taken off so quickly. He leaps and rises into the air after her, roaring his eagerness to catch and win her.

Niyath> Nraith launches himself skywards with a roar that shakes the very foundations of the weyr. This old dog has some bark in him yet.

Niyath> Zerth tosses aside the wherry he just drained, then he leaps into the air with a strong push from his back legs. A roar of challange comes from him as he lifts.

Niyath> Orenth roars definace as the gold leaves the grounds to take flight. He springs from the floor with a powerful sweep sending for in the air swirling about the remaing to slow to keep up with her.

Niyath> Rhouenth raises his dripping snout from the wherry, glancing around for another. Something's wrong, something's missing! With a snarl, he notices the absence of the glowing queen. In a heartbeat he is in the air, searching for the one that he is pulled toward.

Niyath> Konnevath is not about to be left behind. He follows the pack into the air, determined to win the prize for himself!

Niyath> Sandareth flings himself up after her, his mist-shrouded queen.

Niyath> Up! Behemoth is up and after the queen like a vagabond from his master's purse on first encounter. Each stroke matches the gold beat for beat, his eyes sharp on her flank: spear to her shield, salve to her bite. And so, hot to catch, the bronze speeds away, thrust upwards by powerful legs and e'en more powerful pinions.

Niyath> Above the southwest area, Randoth is just a bit slow to launch himself as his forepaw was tangled in the dead wherry guts, and the whole damn thing is still dangling a few seconds before being tossed at whatever was below. Woops.

Jenna's nose wrinkles as the riders crowd onto the ledge. "Pray you all, stand farther from me." She glares at S'niah. "You! Out of my sight! You infect my eyes!" And her nose, but she's not saying anything about that at the moment.

Niyath> Niyath doesn't depend on the nearly still thermals to aid her in this sluggish, gray miasma. Instead she plunges directly upwards into its embrace, seeking already to lose herself in the haze. The air aloft is warmer than that below, sticky and clinging with vapor. Defiance, traitors, hurls she back in your teeth, even her scream deadened, the echoes curling oddly around the bowl walls and making it difficult to pinpoint her location or flight path. She climbs using brute strength and force, tatters in her wake the only hint to her location as she rises, cutting across the starstones and heading east.

Niyath> Nraith, Behemoth, Orenth, Randoth, Kannanth, and Zerth sense that Niyath taunts as she flees, her mental voice undiminished by the fog, « There's many a bronze hath more wing than wit - which category will *you* be in? Or shall I look elsewhere to the others who seek me? » Her lust and strength are palpable things this early in the flight, battering at senses and urging you all on.

Like at every flight before him, G'rad is linked to his dragon, and the baser instincts of the beast are upon him. Already loosening his shirt, he approaches the goldrider with every intention of having her for his own. "Fie to your tempestuous tongue, I'll woo this wildcat and have time yet to talk in my cups this eve. The herdbeast is made to bear, ridergirl, and so are you. Go to, go to. No more talk. Will you fly with me or lumber like an egg-heavy wherry?"

Behemoth bespoke Niyath with « Oh tiger's heart wrapped in a woman's hide! Go rate thy other minions: be thou a prey of mine, and let them see their difference. You live to fill the world with words. Taste instead of my deeds. No speed of wing nor curse of mind can keep my love from your tail. »

Niyath> Konnevath, Gyreventh, Rhouenth, Pheirth, Decarath, and Chanth sense that Niyath's voice drawls seductively back to you all. « Not shaped for sportive tricks, nor made to court an amorous looking glass - what good are you boys? Shall I look more at the bronzes? » The amethyst of her lust is nearly violent this early in the flight, her mental voice undimmed by the fog. « Or shall one of you catch me? »

R'yat strides straight across the weyr to lean against the wall and uneasily tug on his collar, very red and sweaty -- no doubt he'll be steaming any minute now. But so far he's only watching and breathing hard. His lips move quietly every now and then in a silent comment or advice, who knows...

Sh'yar pulls off his riding jacket, "Definitally hot in here."

Kannanth bespoke Niyath with « Ah, but the bronze who has both will best them all, and it is I, sweet golden lady, who will have you. »

Orenth bespoke Niyath with « is not impressed. « You need seek no further for I am right behind you. » »

S'niah grins ferally at Jenna, but the man does hie himself further away. Well, a step. Two, perhaps, until he collides with a slighter boy from Ista. S'niah rounds on him with a snarl and forces the younger bronzerider to give way, then takes his spot with a proprietary air. His. All his. But for the waiting.

A'lex merely looks confused. He's not been in this position for quite some time, and it makes him nervous. With eyes wide like a holder lad, he merely watches Jenna with a mixture of fear and desire. Fear is winning at this point, obviously.

Yashira snorts, dropping into a crouch by the exit. "Yeah, yeah. Like I want to be here, either," she mutters.

Kaylira's forehead glistens with heat, her riding jacket open but still worn. All but forgotten in this turn of events. Shifting from foot to foot trying not to stare. Somethign akin to distaste working its way over her features.

S'lek slides along the wall, trying to get close without /seeming/ to be any closer than any of the others. His eyes are wide and bright with the joy of flight, and his half empty wineglass is still in his hand.

Niyath> Orenth leaves off letting the others give chase into the haze above the Weyr. He bides his time conserving his energy. His eyes remained focused on the swirls of wind that the gold stirss up by the beart of her wings. He also uses his smell to smell her to keep tabs on her. He continues to climb but nota t the same pace as the gold.

Niyath> Rhouenth snarls fiercly, his teeth clashing together. He looks to and fro, scouring for any site of the glorious queen. There, a swirl in the fog. He darts that way catching a glimpse of her tail before she disappears again. His wings beat against the heavy fog, the strain having no effect on him this early in the game. He bugles sharply, trying to cut through to the heavy fog to reach her. At her mindspeech he growls and dashes off.

X'tan positions himself to one side of the cavern. His look is a mixture of uncertainty and outright fear with a touch of lust. He finds himself a spot that doesn't have too many people in it already, just managing to remain standing.

Konnevath bespoke Niyath with « No! You need not suffer the foul embrace of a lumbering bronze too big to see anything but his own large wings and ego! You deserve better than that. You deserve one who will cherish your beauty and give you the adoration you are entitled to. You deserve ME! »

Niyath> Kannanth follows close after, pumping his wings hard to make up for lost ground. Niyath's last was a short flight, and Kannanth means to make this one short, as well, lest he lose her in the fog. Not quite yet - he can't quite reach her just yet - so he strains, urging himself forward, flinging his body through the fog, heedless of risk or weariness.

Niyath> Behemoth strains after the fleeing lady, never to be outdone. Despite his bulk, he is a subtle, slippery knave, matching and approaching each beat of the prey with a sweet confection of his own: 'twere a feast of a flight, when each morsel thrown his way and snatched back is mirrored, letting others see that the male can make a pot akin to the woman. And so, he dives closer.

N'sales seems caught up in the moment his eyes darting here and there before eventually focusing in on Jenna. Wow, why was he so content on juts being friends for so long? Was he blind or something?

Niyath> These are not the Telgari skies, so Nraith's start may not be as good as those born to the Fort winds, but he forces himself to find the path between the downdrafts that will keep him closest to the glowing Niyath that taunts him so boldly. The mists form droplets of moisture on his wingsails, causing the tracery of silver lightning and remanants of threadscore to shine in the light. He notices this. He trumpets. He's sexy.

Niyath> Randoth is slow, right, but he's not going to be the first one giving up. His whole body is tensed, his gaze pointing straight at the fleeing gold, his neck like a bronze arrow aiming at a bright sun. No matter whether there is actually a dragon nearby, he'll have to give way. Randoth is heavy enough to bump a brown away almost casually. Just Niyath.

Niyath> Pheirth glides in the fog, letting instinct and freedom carry him along. The pull of rich violet drawing him through the tendrils of misted grey and forming ghosted images of his desire ever just a winglength out of reach. Brown he may be, but surely his hide glistens just as grandly as any other..

Lystra storms into the weyr shaking her head. She drops the package on the ground and kicks it slightly. The fabric falls back to reveal two large sweet loaves. She glances toward Jenna, her eyes flaming.

Niyath> Decarath's shadowy wings spread wide, pulling and pushing the gloaming fog around him. He doesn't seem to mind the extra cover - in fact, it suits him more than bright sunshine ever will. He beats his wings and follows, keeping to the left of the pack, slightly below... skimming under them like a shadow. He doesn't charge into the fray like a soldier, he pursues quietly like a hunter.

Niyath> Gyreventh allows the golden to rise higher and higher out of sight but not out of mind. His strong wings made even stronger by his strength of desire pursue the golden beauty into the upper reaches of the sky. He follows not the sound of her voice but the sound of her mind, where she leads he will not be far behind, above or beside.

Niyath senses that Decarath ignores the others, slicing them out of this contact. « Silence yourself. I will have you. » Gray and black, his tone is either the greatest of insults or a very rare compliment.

Niyath> Never let it be said Sandareth were not a cunning hunter. For though his lady is lost in the woods, he will be the huntsman to save her lest she fall to this pack of ravening wolves. He's captured himself a trail to follow: shame that it is Nraith's, but for now it will suit.

Niyath> Zerth does not bother to conserve his energy. He is young and strong. He may be smaller than most bronzes, but not many can match his pure determination. He follows the trail of the gold, part by sight and part by feel.

Niyath> Konnevath may not be the first in the pack, but this is on purpose. Let the big bronzes use up their energy showing off for the beautiful gold. When they tire and falter, he will be there. His color merges with the fog of the night sky, making him a shadow. One that does not give up, or fail. A faithful shadow, always there, always waiting.

Jenna taunts the maleriders, "Be not lost so poorly in your thoughts - or you'll never catch her." Cheeks are flushed coming in from the cold, hectic spots of color marring her skin. Manic eyes flicker restlessly around the room as she keeps her distance, hovering near the entrance to the weyr, ready to make a quick getaway should they come near her.

R'yat casts a circular glance, his eyes lingering only briefly on everyone in the room before hurrying back to Jenna. Is it a trick of the light or the bronzerider's eyes are showing as much lust as his dragon's?<re?>

Niyath senses that Chanth is lost in a sea of other dragons--brown and bronze alike. But from somewhere his dark thoughts reach yours. « I never sued to friend nor enemey. My tongue could never learn sweet smoothing word. But now, thy bueaty is proposed my fee. My proud heart sues and prompts my tongue to speak. You're mine. »

Niyath> Orenth watches with rapt intent the fog swirls his head darting back and forth following those he thinks are that of the queen. Having had enough of this now, he pumps his wings harder passing up now some of the smaller browns and weaker bronzes. With a roar and a warning to the others to stay clear he races into the Fort sky after the only thing that matters.

B'var fidgets suddenly, going a little pale. His hands wring, and he can;t keep still.

A'lex asks, not of his own volition, "How can I hope to catch a sunbeam streaming through a broken cloud?" Then he blinks and adds awkwardly, "Or... something."

G'rad pays little heed to those that would keep him from his prey. He simply laughs off the lady's rebukes. "The tongues of mocking wenches are as keen as is the razor's edge invisible; and so little do you think of my words? Tapers are they, with your sweet breaths puff'd out? Never more was idle breath wasted. My dragon will stay the course, Lady Disdain, and thine words shall fall into the pool of another to drown there in false scolding."

Niyath> Niyath takes the most direct course away from the weyr, banking abruptly north. She climbs steadily, reveling in the rush of vapor across her wings, leaving comet trails behind her in the sky. These eddies give her location away as she streaks out above the Fortian mountains, and towards the ice lake. Some Cupid kills with arrows and some with traps, for behind her, two browns, one from Fort, the other a surprise entry from Benden, grapple each other, each thinking they'd caught her in the fog. Down they go, out of the flight.

Niyath> Kannanth senses that Niyath directs, as her trail becomes visible, « Assume a virtue if you have it not, for that is the only way you shall catch me! » There is a crack of assurance as sharp as a tail across the face, as she seeks to tumble her suitors out by shaking their confidence.

Niyath> Orenth senses that Niyath screams sharp defiance at you. « You speak an infinite deal of nothing. Pray keep your silence more! » Yet despite this insolence, the burnished flame of her lust flickers in the fog, calling you onward.

Niyath> Randoth senses that Niyath jeers, her scorn sharp as her lust, « What shall I call you when you become a bronze? For you have yet to achieve that feat in mine eye! » Despite her words, that siren call of her hunger to mate is a powerful lure dangled before you.

Niyath> Zerth senses that Niyath is unable to resist a good insult. « The wicked fire of lust have melted him in his own grease! Where now are you, back in the pack? That will never do if you hope to claim me! » The purple froth of her desire is a buffeting force, taunting, and urging you on.

Sh'yar smirks as he wipes back hair slick with perspiration, "It is not her with which I desire to catch, but both maid and dragon alike are desirous."

Niyath> Behemoth senses that Niyath croons seductively, « You have been five thousand turns a weyrling. Come! I am waiting! Prove that you are a Behemoth and a bronze! » Her attention is there and gone in a moment, as she coyly flicks her wings at you.

Kaylira swipes the back of her hand over her brow, still not seeming to realize she's heavily geared and in this room with its numbers and the rising heat of flight-driven passion.. that its only going to get more uncomfortable before it gets better. Her gaze darting about, drinking in the expressions found on other faces before returning attention back to Jenna. Silent. Near-grim.

Niyath> Nraith senses that Niyath's taunt echoes back as she seeks to put more distance between herself and you. « Think you worthy enough to try me? You rise to play and go to bed to work. But you shall not 'work' me! » Yet threaded through this defiance is the bright plum of lust, twining them together in an unshakable shawl, thick as the fog around her.

Niyath> Randoth is getting a little astray from the main bunch and flies closer, gaining speed with his momentum and dismissively trying to get them all out of his way with threatening bugles and snaps of his jaws. He always keep an eye and a part of his mind alert -- though obviously foggy as well with lust -- to locate the escaping Nyiath. So far he's not falling behind, but he's not quite the closest either.

Yashira growls quietly, but remains otherwise silent, still crouched, still balanced. Blocking the others out, guiding Decarath.

Niyath> Decarath senses that Niyath rumbles in scornful amusement. « What a fool are you, a rampaging fool, to brag and stamp and swear! You shall not win me that way! » Yet the smoldering look she directs back to you could turn the key of any male.

Divya does not respond to Jenna's taunts, but can not resist getting a small dig at G'rad. "Pretty words, Wingleader. But I take leave to doubt that your lumbering bronze can live up to them. You will fail tonight, and I shall spare Jenna your presence afterwards."

Niyath senses that Kannanth responds not by being cowed, but with a flare of self-assurance. « I need not assume, for I am strong and loyal, and you are my queen, and I am your bronze. I would carry you through this fog on the strength of my own wings, so that you could save your own. Will you permit me to fly with you? »

Niyath> North! North! She's heading towards Nraith's home! Noisy beast bugles once again, offering to show her the way. As she dances between the clouds and fog he stretches muscles that have too long been used only for work. But this, this is torture... a pleasureful torture that makes him creel with anticipation and longing.

Niyath> Rhouenth senses that Niyath's laughter echoes back to you through the fog. « What? Too slow and full on blood? I'd say the gentleman has drunk himself out of his senses! If you can't fly fast, you'll never fly me. » Smug certainty tinges her last words, a teasing vent to her lust.

X'tan stares at Jenna. He does not respond to the challenge, simply stares at her. His eyes are very wide. It's almost as if he never expected to find himself in this situation. Silent, that's him.

N'sales starts to feel flushed, is it the heat from all the bodies in the room or maybe something more? His eyes seem lost although they are fixated on Jenna. "Your beauty outshines even the brightest star at night and I hope but to steal a glimps."

S'lek glares at G'rad. /Him/ again. "Shut up," he suggests, eschewing eloquence for clarity.

Niyath> Konnevath senses that Niyath's seductive warble sounds directly in your mind. « Have you never an eye in your head? Am I not beautiful? Am I not worthy of your effort? » Her voice cracks sharply, « Then try harder, for you'll never catch me unless you do! »

R'yat is still silent, making annoyed sounds at all this talking and somewhat S'lek's request seems to meet his full -- if short -- agreement. But then he's another rival so he's not given anything more than a quick glance.

Niyath> Decarath eyes the bulky shape in the fog just ahead of him; he swerves to the left, flapping more furiously, snarling as he passes the bronze with great effort, slicing in ahead of him, cutting him off, and slapping him upside the head with his tail for good measure. This is pretty standard for Decarath; he does play well with others.

Niyath> Folding his wings and diving to the earth like the thread he would fight, Behemoth seems to have lost wit like a fusty nut with no kernel. But judge not so soon lest the gavel land on thy thumb: he misses not much. Before the ground consumes the trunk of his humours, his wings extend once more. Twisted with skill, the velocity of gravity on his frame, matched by the beating, accelerates his frame and up! Up once more at greater speed and below the gold he goes, bellowing enough to do abuse on the ears of all who listen, as tail and talon reach for the queen he knows must surely now be his!

Nraith bespoke Niyath with « This is the chase, this is the play, this is the work of the bold. You taunt, but it only fills my wingsails with power, and my eyes with flame. »

Niyath> Pheirth plays along the ghosted trails, their ripple and wave against the air currents carrying the faintness of *her* - and her mind still ripe in his, there is naught to do but follow. Not blindly, but with directed purpose. No need for show. No need for fancy. Only steadfast and sure. A breath upon the air seeking her out, certain to find her.

Niyath senses that Zerth responds to the insult as his rider will not. « I am not that far from you, pretty on. And you will not get that far from me. » The taunt hit it's mark, though, and greater energy surges through him.

Niyath> Kannanth knows the way to the lake. He's flown it many, many times. He picks up speed as he falls into a familiar rhythm through familiar skies, watching and waiting for the chance to move in closer. He sends a rich warble Niyath's way, flicking his tail in anticipation.

Decarath bespoke Niyath with « I did not rampage. I said. It will be so. You will give me a good hunt. »

Niyath> Rhouenth flattens his legs against his body as he angles upward through the heavy fog. His wings spread out to their fullest, beating the heavy air away from his body and pushing him forward. He hesitates as he loses sight of her again. His eyes dart quickly until he spots the tell tale eddies and chases after them. It isn't long before he once more catches site of his the gold, glowing like a gem, lighting the way through the blinding fog. He sings out to her, his voice adding a baritone depth to the melody that already encompasses the skies.

Behemoth bespoke Niyath with « Fie, wench! Let the others hang in their own straps, what need have we for them? Fair lady, do you think you have fools in hand? Say not so. There is but one fool here and 'tis thou, if meanst to reject Behemoth. Come, let us beget the best of the beast, and I will prove perfection on thy body! You are the cruell'st she alive if you do not grant me thy loins. »

Niyath> Sandareth makes a snatch at what he hopes is Niyath... but no, it is naught but the tail of a younger bronze. Avast! He roars his disgust and surges forward, knocking the other male from his flight, his air, his hope. /Now/ she shall see him, twist and turn her pretty self doth she try. /There/ - now he sees her, his prize, his possession, and stretches forward greedy talons to snatch her from the others.

Niyath> Orenth pushes onward, watching the eidies from the wings of the nearby dragons disrupt his view of the golds flight. He takes a chance and with unfound strength, pushed forward by unseen force, her hurls himself at breakneck speed into a steep climb, not banking as sharply north as the others but rather taking a less sharp angle and choosing to climb faster to maybe get a better look at the scene and swirls from slightly above.

A'lex breathes heavily, exerting some sort of control over himself, but still his mouth rambles, "There is little work that would not be worth the pleasure of her embrace. I fear that... I... I can not fathom the depth of the magic that she plays over me. I fly. And fly... I will not stop." Oh yeah, he's gone. Poor sot.

Niyath> Konnevath stays on the course. He manages to avoid the grappling browns with a fold of his wings and gains on the fleeing gold. He falls in behind a bronze, using it as a windbreak for a moment to catch his breath. His whirling purple eyes are like tiny amythests in the night sky, as his mighty wings and long tail work hard to carve a path for him on his quest for the gold.

Niyath senses that Rhouenth sings sweetly, seductively, powerfully. « I bide my time sweet one. I will not tire, I will be here long, ready to support you should you choose to slow. »

Niyath> Niyath sees Behemoth's dive almost too late. The fog that aids her may also be her downfall. With a burst of speed she pushes ahead, spars angled upwards to shift her flight, just squeaking out of the way. Behemoth just brushes golden hide with bronze as Niyath concentrates on gaining a bit of altitude. That one was far too close. And then there's that sharding Benden bronze: Sandareth. She only just drops a shoulder joint, veering off to the left of the pack to evade him. Still, the young queen taunts her would be captors, her call coming back on the wind. They are as a glow, the better part burnt out by the wind of her passage.

Niyath> Gyreventh follows the eddies through he clouds they mark the queens trail as visibly as if it were clear and sunny. As the queen drops Gyr makes a first attempt aiming at a spot where she should be if she maintains her dive, if she doesn't well he is a brown and can fly rings around larger dragons. He reaches for her with all his might and skill in an attempt to end this early.

Jenna lets out a squeak of panic, sheering away and back from G'rad and S'niah, shaking her head violently. Then, after a moment and it registers that her queen got away, she beams and taunts, "Wise and slow; they that stumble who fly fast! - You all have pretty words, yet none have yet the wit to claim her!"

Niyath senses that Orenth is intent on only you. His heart is beating rapidly and he alreay pictures the two of you in free fall, the extasy of catching her forefront in his thoughts. « I am above you, come to me and we shall forever make history. »

Niyath> Zerth surges forward suddenly, responding to an inner challenge. His body moves at tremendous speed suddenly, speeding forward fast enough that it almost seems out of control. However, he is still changing direction to follow the larger gold. He does not make an attempt for Niyath yet, though, preferring to wait a bit longer.

Sh'yar smirks, "Yet."

Lystra watches Jenna, her inner desier lighting the flame behind her eyes.

Niyath> Decarath does *not* play well with others, even. This is further evidenced when he veers toward another brown, the bronze he cut off following him for what windbreak he offers. Decarath abruptly slices upward through the mist, leading the bronze and brown to suddenly realise the other is there. Decarath doesn't care if they collide; they're tumbling below him as he strives ever-onward. They are simply minor obstructions in his path, to be batted aside while he follows the true prize.

Konnevath bespoke Niyath with « Sincerity rings in Konnevath's voice as he responds to Niyath. «You are the most beautiful gold I have seen! Your body is supple, your hide as bright as the summer sun! Your wings are graceful, and your tail is absolutely perfect. I will adore you forever!» »

Niyath> Chanth emerges from the cloud of fog like a ghost. The lithe, sleek brown is quick on the turns and angles himself from below to gain the altitude of the queen. She's within his site suddenly, and with exuberance, he hisses again. Tail writhes, wings fly, talons get ready to snatch the prize.

Niyath> Do thou amend thy tail, Gyreventh, and Niyath will amend her flight! She easily avoids his grasp, dropping down and sacrificing altitude for safety. Leaving him behind, she risks a look back, trying to see where else the danger might come from.

S'niah steps forward to claim his lady - then snarls, frustrated, when both of she make good their escape. "You won't keep away for long. There's too many of us and too little of you."

Jenna laughs, spinning away from Sh'yar and calling over her shoulder, "Farewell, you are too dear for my possessing." Pleased with herself, she arches her neck and turns a coy look on the others. "Keep your distance - she will not yet be claimed!"

Niyath> She is a golden cabachon set into the white whispery pillow of the sky. She is a prize beyond any that has ever been. He longs. He fights. He trumpets out his name into the night. Or at least he tries to. Nraith may be older than most, but his flame is no where near extinguished, and this chase is only beginning. A downward swoop, a launch skyward on a thermal. He revels in the freedom of the sky, and the passion that emanates from the beauty ahead.

Niyath senses that Kannanth is there, in your mind! Close, so close the escape. And he urges you upward still, sending with all the strength in him a sense of safety, of being warmed and enveloped and desired and cared for. « The air is obscured because the envious moons do not dare to look upon your loveliness. I shall keep you close and do your bidding, your every desire. Come! »

Niyath> Kannanth surges forward, up and over the trainwreck that was almost Niyath and Behemoth twined together. But no! It is not to be. Warbling again, he extends claw and tail, not to seize her, but to invite her to him, to the shelter of his wings.

Niyath> Orenth spies the leading eddies from his new vantage point. Maybe the ploy has succeeded after all. He makes a sharp bank in the queens direction using the built up energy at the top of his assent transfer into to power and speed as he turns to intersect the gold on her new ascent. His roar causes the air around him to seeminly recoil as he is intent on only one thing and that one thing will be his.

The brownriders felled earlierturn to stumble out in the confusion, the Fortian muttering something about taking his leave of her. Jenna sneers, "There is not anything you could take from me that I would so willingly part withal! The rest of you should follow him. You're never going to catch her."

Niyath> Randoth is feeling the need to catch up on the rest, he's definitely falling behind. It's more than time to show off those big, shiny wings of his and prove he can be fast too, as heavy as he is. She's escaping those poor attempts but he knows better. After all she -is- from his clutch. And they learnt their tricks mostly at the same time. A kind of elegant swoop brings him almost at reach. A bit closer... And he has to bank to avoid a bigger bronze. Not fair!

Yashira is still silent, her eyes gone unfocused and glassy; she's not there in the guest weyr, she's up above with him, the only partner clever enough to replace the one she lost long ago; she flies, she chases, she hunts the only way she can now - through him.

Once again, Divya does not respond to Jenna's taunt. She stays right where she is, and smiles at the goldrider. A confident, slightly arrogant, yet still sweet smile.

A'lex smiles softly and says even softer, "Even the sun rests for the duration of the night. So will Niyath tire. So will she be ensnared." Wow, this guy needs a new writer, this is worse than a sappy Harper tune.

S'lek lets out a rasp of breath, clenching his hands, the one around the wineglass, the other on empty air, his eyes closed and his face flushed with the heat of emotion and of the bodies around him.

Niyath> Pheirth cants slightly off his path, searching for glimpses - Ah! There.. no, wait! There? Or.. The seethe of bronze and brown cluttering what had seemed straightforward. Unless.. His wings surge, carrying him forth, intent upon glimpses of gold that *must* be just there.

Niyath> There's small choice in rotten redfruit. And so Niyath apparently thinks when Kannanth tries to claim her. Not so, sirrah! That invitation has been sent return to sender She snakes one head back under her wing, checking for pursuit. You - you males! You tread upon her patience! For aught that any could ever read, could ever hear by tale or history, the course of true love never did run smooth - and neither does her flight. Dropping down to cliff skimming height, she twists in the smog, narrowly avoiding peaks and ridges. The line of ridges she drafts runs in a northwesterly course, the valleys boiling in a cauldron of fog. Her speed slows, though she doesn't seem tired yet, perhaps drawing the males in intentionally.

Niyath> Gyreventh screeches in frustration but breaks himself before he looses any more altitude. Wing beating strong and steady he regains altitude to stay above the queen with height comes the advantage.

R'yat's fists are clenched and he's trembling a little, eyes closed, the excitment of the chase clearly showing on his face between to hazy glances at the goldrider.

Kaylira's hands clench and unclench. "Shut up," she hisses. "Just. Shut. Up."

N'sales waits and bides his time, just as his bronze dragon does. He seemingly exchoes his bronzes surge with, "You won't be so far away shortly." he stammers as he inches his way closer to her.

Niyath> Nraith senses that Niyath's verbal abuse continues, « He speaks! Yet he says nothing. Oh, speak again, dimglow! » Her confidence and power in her mating lust is undimmed.

Niyath> Zerth is still going terribly fast, urged on by something outside of himself. He tilts his wings to carry him higher as he goes. Then, seeing Niyath tuck her head under her wing and slow, he surges forward and drops on the opposite side, trying to catch her unaware.

Niyath> Rhouenth snarls, lashing his tail out at a larger bronze that flies too close. He pushes ahead, the muscles on his body straining but not giving out. They bulge with every push of his wings, condensation from the fog dripping off his wingtips. He darts upward, coming up to the side of the fire that flashes through the sky. He croons to her, singing a song of lust, passion, heat, and strength. He watches the queen as he flies next to her, reaching his neck out to her as he sings his song. His speed drops considerably as she falls back and he takes up a position right above his queen.

Sh'yar grits his teeth and wanders closer to the teasing queen, "We can wait."

Niyath> Konnevath reaches out to grasp the gold as she rises toward him, but a visiting bronze gets in his way. Stupid, slow bronze Rock! He darts under the larger dragon and flashes in front of him. Too far to catch the beauteous gold, yet close enough to send a croon of adoration and love her way. He will coax her to his embrace, rather than forcibly take her.

Nraith bespoke Niyath with « In comparison to you, even the ball of fire in the sky is dim my sweet. »

Niyath> Sandareth tries for a slash at Gyreventh as the brown makes his attempt, but the effort slides the bronze out of his coveted place. Farther back in the pack is he, so cunning and wile will have to substitute for sheer blind luck. A fragment of hesitation and the Bendenite tries upward, wings cutting through the curling fog.

Niyath> Kannanth roars, a draconic wail of dismay that echoes off hill and mountain. He falters only slightly, but her dive gives him a chance to recover, and he drops his wings to follow after, to seek another opportunity.

Kannanth bespoke Niyath with « You deny me? Why? I am devoted to you. »

Niyath> Behemoth is not one to be a failure - and not one to fly in the face of misfortune. Once more he dives, twisting wing for wing, each roar of his lungs proving his determination. His expression wishes a plague on the pickle-herring males that chase HIS rightful mate. Yet again he reaches for Niyath, coils of tail and neck determined to take her for his own.

Niyath> Orenth senses that Niyath taunts, « Foul spoken coward, that thund'rest with your tongue, and with your weapon nothing dares perform! Catch me and prove your words! »

Niyath senses that Rhouenth croons with passion, white hot. « You are slowing. Are you tired? Do you wish the slower, less able males to catch you? » He adds tones of mocking, but in the background is still that dark seething passion.

X'tan catches his breath suddenly, "Careful," he whispers, his mind with his dragon, seeing something not in the weyr.

Behemoth bespoke Niyath with « The others must go - I discard them. I can hardly forebear laughing at their paltry attempts. Hollow they art, and echo with the flatulence of their blooding e'en as we shall resound with joy. Be not a feather for each wind that blows, turn thy wing to me and in finality dip your muzzle in the lustpool. »

Niyath> Rhouenth senses that Niyath jeers, « What a caterwauling you keep! Is this supposed to sway me? You'll have to do better than that! »

Niyath> Gyreventh roars at Sandareth and disturbers the air stream behind him in an attempt to make it more difficult for the bronze to regain any speed or altitude.

Niyath> Randoth shows his superiority by dodging and swallowing the most gracelessly between a tangle of wings and paws, straining his neck as if he could grab Niyath's tail with his teeth. Folding his wings is enough to get him past two fast browns and a powerful effort brings him just close enough, above Niyath's hindquarters and slightly askew, but enough to reach for her with all his appendages...

Niyath> Decarath holds his pattern, preserves some energy mostly by the will of the woman who is part of him now. Her instincts are his now, and when she says to wait, he waits. It is not his place to dive in and save the damsel; no, his way is to go alongside all the knights and heroes and offer a different option. All well and good, certainly, though the rogues do tend to miss out when the knights and heroes *act first*. Playing aloof has it's consequences, too.

Niyath> Niyath is violently carried away from grace, putting on extra speed and whipping first left and then dodging right in a frenzy to try to get away from Zerth. As a result, her flight takes her out of line with Behemoth's dive, on the opposite side of a ridge. The dodge takes her nearly right into Randoth and she screams her defiance - asses are made to bear and so is he! Wracking wings forward, she plunges just away from that reaching neck and tail.

Niyath> Orenth drops into a full dive now, sensing the gold is near at hand finally. if only she would... Thats it. He sees the swirls take a more northeasterly route and he makes a final bank, roaring his defiance to the other dragons letting them as well as the gold know he is coming and near. He comes at her from above and slightly to her right, making a sharp bank to scrub his speed dipping wingtips in an attempt to wrap the gold up in his outspread sails.

Niyath> Pheirth lets will and instinct guide him. Carried on the eddied currents of fog ruffled by stroke and beat of wing, he cranes his neck, certain, now, that *she* is within reach. Slipping past another he readies himself and makes his move.

Niyath> But what's this, how could this be? Is Nraith somehow ABOVE the Lovely? Has he gained altitude on the Precious? Collapsing his lightning streaked wings he lets himself plummet Niyathwards, only opening them again when he is near enough to reach out with his neck-- his tail-- every fiber of his being seems to stretchhhhhhhhhhhhh...

Niyath> Randoth wails angrily. Why didn't she let him? It was supposed to work and she was his. Busy as he is complaining he's being caught up and has to power his wings again dramatically, working himself to exhaustion but he -will- grab her. For now it's going to be hard...

A'lex looks a little taller, somehow.

N'sales crouches low, every muscle fibre stretched tight as he looks at Jenna, smile playing accross gritted teeth?

Niyath> Kannanth's eagle eyes are little good to him in this fog, but he listens, hearing the bellows and croons of missed opportunity. He'll claim his own, though, and he'll be more determined about it, this time, as he hurtles downward, snapping out of his dive just above the spot where Niyath /should/ be, and grabbing for her with all that's in him, whether she wills it or no.

By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes! And Jenna is as aware of it as Niyath is. She shoots the maleriders a look that clearly tells them to keep their distance. Fire burns in her face, blooming in her cheeks and brightening her eyes. But she shall not be claimed yet. Not yet. But panic is beginning to set in.

Kannanth bespoke Niyath with « Come! I claim you for mine - you do not wish to belong to some other queen's bronze. I am yours, and I am here to claim you. »

Kaylira's hands clench to tight, white little bundles.

Niyath> Rhouenth snarls, his song coming stronger and louder. He chases after the golden lightening, almost colliding with a poor bird that wasn't smart enough to follow his fellows to safer skies. A younger brown comes up under him. Rhouenth's tail wips downward, snapping in front of the brown's face, making him veer off to the side. With no desire to actually harm a fellow dragon Rhouenth is content to leave the other dragon still chasing but farther behind. His croon loudens into a bugle, long and drawn out adding to the harmonic chorus of the rumbling skies. He follows his hot fire and darts toward her, neck and tail reaching toward the object of the magnetic force that pulls him through the skies.

Niyath> Decarath presses a little further forward, keeping to the left and just below Niyath, still the shadow... but there. Very much there still.

Niyath senses that Orenth gives a mental picture of his decent. « You want me to come get you , well here I am. »

Niyath senses that Rhouenth lsughs defiantly. « My song will never cease. I sing of the skies, of the land, of me, of you. If you do not like it, why don't you quiet me? Or are you too slow for that? »

Niyath> Gyreventh closes in on Niath once again. This time from above the others, as she dives away from Randoth he also wracks in his wings and allows gravity to carry him forward and down, down hopefully into the arms of the waiting queen. This time learning from his last experience he dodges at the last moment in the direction he thinks Niyath is likely to try to get away from.

Niyath> From women's eyes this doctrine I derive--They are the ground, the books, the academes From whence doth spring the right Promethean fire. Thus is the gold before Chanth's eyes. Her wild elusive flight has brought her within striking distance! The fog veil between them lifted, he makes his strike. A lowered shoulder, a dart of the tail and the quick brown's talons come forward. She'll be his, or he'll be undone.

Niyath senses that Decarath extends his presence to insinuate a single tendril of smoke-thought to her, notifying her that he's there; and then the tendril withdraws, but he's still there, waiting just outside the very edge of her consciousness.

R'yat's lips curve in a wicked smile that turns soft and reassuring toward Jenna, no matter how futil it might be. Wordlessly he tries to make some kind of point...

Yashira has bowed her head by this point; sweat beads on her face, a drop slipping off the tip of her hawkish nose and dropping to her legs to make a round dark spot on her pants. Her expression borders on a grimace.

Sh'yar reaches... reaches...

Her desire flickering in her eyes, Lystra takes a cautious step toward Jenna. She bluntly looks her up and down, taking in every aspect of the goldrider's appearance.

Niyath senses that Nraith is soothing (or trying to be), « It is not fear you feel. It is the anticipation of pleasure. Your lifemate realizes the time is near. Do not give up, but do not believe there is no happiness to be found here. »

Niyath> Zerth is somewhat startled by this maneuver, but he dips a wing to turn and follow the gold. He has to drop to get under the barrelling Behemoth. For the moment, he's just trying to keep up with her rapid movement.

Niyath> Konnevath is Niyath's other shadow. He will not give up, not him. Orange highlight flicker in a momentary flash of starlight through the fog as his wings work to carry him forward still more. He sends another croon in the direction of the light, eager to claim the prize.

S'lek's wineglass falls unheeded from his hand and smashes to the floor, and he takes a step forward, his breath caught in his throat.

N'sales uncoils from his crouch position and starts to reach for Jenna now, pushing his way through the crowd to get to her, his eyes a bruning lust that seems to be out of charcater for him.

Divya's hand clench and release. She never did manage to find a wineskin, and her hands are restless without its familiar presence.

X'tan sighs with relief. His eyes flick away from Jenna, as if he could see through the walls to see what happens above. Then he looks back. The rest of his body remains standing stock still.

Niyath> Sandareth's finished his climb, the bronze gained a scant dragonlength from the rest of the pack. No further will he go, the distance 'tween he and Niyath already stretched like a groaning rubber band. Neither potential energy nor gravity will he scorn - nor Behemoth either, for it's the massive bronze's attempt d'amour he tries now, screaming down on Niyath like a thunderbolt.

Niyath> Randoth is a buzzing mass of lust, nerves and fluttering. At this rate he's not going to last at all but the prize is well worth his efforts. Scary thing is, it works moderately well and he might manage to reach the gold or at least to stay right behind her for, say, a few heartbeats. Quick heartbeats.

Niyath> If Niyath be waspish, best beware her sting! That tail cracks out, lashing in a fury at Kannanth, Rhouenth and Nraith, both reaching for her from above. She looks to be in danger of crashing into a peak before she abruptly hits the breaks and lets them all dive right on by. That leaves Gyreventh to outwit, outplay and outlast as he dodges in from one side. Lost with forward momentum, she banks off to the right, turning back towards the weyr, in a maneuver worthy of a green. Yet her dodging is not through! In comes Chanth and those talons. A scream of defiance and she labors on, pushing forward and squeaking by, though getting herself raked in the process. So close. So very close! And she is tiring.

Sh'yar bat's N'sales out of the way to keep him from getting any closer.

Jenna lashes out below as her mate does above, with an ill-timed and ill-aimed slap at whomever is in reach. "From hate's heart I stab at you - you shall never have her if I have my way!" But are the words said to the dragons above or to the riders at large?

S'lek ducks back. "Don't! Don't. Open to us. Let us give you... what you desire." He's too caught up in the moment to even feel selfconscious as he reaches out his hands to Jenna, palms upward, eyes wide.

A'lex takes a solitary step forward, "If my blood with satiate the anger in your heart, so be it." He tears open his shirt all Fabio style, "Have at me."

Niyath> Decarath strains to keep up - no fancy manuvers now, he just tries to keep up, keep his position to the left and a little down. She's tiring, and he's tiring as well; large as he is for a brown, he only matches the endurance of the very smallest of bronzes. He tries. He cannot try to catch her beyond stretching his neck out, and this he does, wings flapping more quickly to draw him up at her side. This is the last chance for him; this strain is too much. Here. Reward him now or reward him not.

Konnevath bespoke Niyath with « Noooooooooo! Niyath, your beautiful hide! I will protect you, and prevent it from happening again! »

Niyath> Kannanth gives a wounded bellow as the gold's tail cracks him across the flank -- too quickly even for him to seize her. With a flurry of wings, he struggles to recover from his dive and surge upward, placing himself on a trajectory to come up beneath her. Still he offers his steadfast support, despite her stern rebuke.

Yashira breathes heavily, eyes closed as she grimaces, part of Decarath's last effort, straining along with him, lending her strength.

Niyath> Nraith roars with the fury of a scorned lover. And with the fury of a Bronze dragon finding himself having to regain a lot of altitude if he wants to stay in this. Pummeling the sky with his wings he drags himself higher, moving slowly closer to the gilded wonder that is Niyath.

Niyath> Gyreventh roars in defiance, so close, he was so close. Gathering up his remaining strength he makes for a cloud and disappears.

N'sales snarls at the rider batting him away, he doesn't see who it is as he is so intent on Jenna. "How am I now, still like a rock!" No it doesn't make sense to most but he hopes Jenna will understand.

Niyath senses that Kannanth offers himself, silent and sure, wordless, but devoted.

Sh'yar growls, "Stow the fancy talk sonny."

Niyath> Rhouenth bugles his alarm and pulls around, his snout touching his tail for just a moment as he changes his direction to chase after the gold, shooting through the sky. His wings beat powerfully against his body, a spray of condensation from the fog coming off either wing tip. What's this? The same bird. He snaps his teeth at the bird as he flies by, the wind caused by this twists the bird around in a few circles. Wings beating faster and faster, extending to their full length before pushing back tightly against his body. He chases. He begins his song, tones of amusement clear in it. He sings louder and louder, deep with the baritone of his voice. There, he sees her. He dashes ahead, he snout pulling even with the base of her tail. He reaches for her, all the might of his body and spirit leans toward her. He knows what he wants and what he must do, this above all to thine, own self be true.

Kaylira's breathing falters, matching the stuttered clenching and unclenching of her hands; eyes darkening by the moment. An empassioned match for her grim features.

Niyath> Konnevath roars at the male who dared to mar the hide of the beautiful golden Niyath. Brute! Clumsy! Anger gives him strength and he surges forward, ready to attempt to wrap wings and tail around her to protect her. But first he has to get closer and force his way in front of the bronze Rock. Piece of cake.

Niyath> Niyath is just beginning to climb again, and then Orenth comes in from the right And Pheirth in. And Decarath as well, both browns straining their necks towards her. When sorrows come, they come not single spies, but in batallions! And here comes Rhouenth, a late arrival on the scene, and closing fast. But lo! There is a thermal! A weak one to be sure, but the tiring gold makes for it, straining uprwards and it rewards her with a shooting aloft. Out of their grasping, out of their attempts, out of their reach. Can one desire too much of a good thing?

Lystra laughs loudly, her head upraised, seemingly looking at the ceiling of the cavern. She glances back down towards Jenna. "You temptuous beast." she says under her breath.

Niyath> Randoth is probably going to complain for a sevenday about strained muscles but at this point he likely doesn't give a shard. Banking left. Banking right. Ye who chase here, abandon all hope, Randoth is once more attempting to get to this sunshine. Even being far his forepaws are extended, all claws ready to grasp or slash whoever will be getting in his way. The thermal catches him totally by surprise and he looks for the same one. No luck but he's still following...

N'sales groans, "How dare you, I will not be denied." and he lashes out at the other riders around as if that will make their dragons stop chase.

Niyath> Decarath cannot strain that much farther; he remains at the level he is, doggedly trying to keep up still, but even now the other browns and bronzes are passing him.

Niyath> Pheirth is certain.. so certain. Gold borne on silver - a misted gauze played along her wings.. she beckons and who is he to argue? He *must* have her. If she be out of reach, slipping through his grasp like the fog she rides, then he will follow.

Niyath> Kannanth is yet again disappointed as she flees his approach from below, finding that thermal to send her upward. He wings toward it as well, to seize the wind for his own wings, blocking her access to it in hopes that she might fall to meet his upward surge.

Yashira exhales a sigh, one hand stroking the floor of the cavern, eyes opening slowly.

Niyath> Oh, but how the sky doth lift her heavenwards like the shooting star she is. Oh, but how Nraith strains against the very earth below him forcing himself higher by shear force of will. Muscles ripple. Eyes swirl red-violet. The Thundercloud Bronze is one with the sky, and soon, Faranth willing, will be one with the beauty who teases so exquisitely.

Niyath> Gyreventh emerges from the cloud bank in another attempt at the lovely but this time with a different trick, he emerges from under the golden queen in an attempt to steal her thermal from her.

Niyath> Sandareth keeps aloft where he is - the height, for now, is a good place to stay. Niyath, Niyath, whyfor art thou not his? Surely she can see him up here - yes! that thermal is all for him, his, possessing. The bronze pulls up as she climbs, his momentum pulling him backwards in his quest for her fire.

Niyath> And though this be madness, yet there is method in't. For as a valley opens up below Niyath, bubbling with fog, she drops down into it off a ridge, twisting at the last minute to avoid Gyreventh. The fog swallows her whole, not a glimmer of hide seen to give a clue where she is. Seek her below, or blunder blindly on. Are those the only choices here?

Niyath> Behemoth gallantly will rise once again as if from the very ashes, for this battle est not surely lost ere she rests not in the embrace of another. This is a twist of fate he'll not accept! He seeks her once more through the encompassing cloak of fog's maze. Not yet as tired as others, his desire plain to carry her forth. He can make up for ground lost, he will and does. He ascends, holding beneath her flamboyant form, but reaching to carry her on, with wings and tail's tenure.

A'lex opens one eye, glancing down at his bared chest and shirt all akimbo. Apparently Jenna hasn't stabbed him yet. Maybe that means... can it be? "You love me! Faranth be praised!"

Niyath> Rhouenth roars with anger and frustration. He searches for the thermal but gives up after not finding it and exerts the entirety of his strength into beating his gleaming wings, pushing him up and aloft. He soon finds himself just under the golden glory, his song still rich. All the world's a stage, and all the dragon's merely players. They have their exits and their entrances, and one dragon in his time plays many parts. Rhouenth knows what part he plays and what part he must play. He croons to his sweet mistress, telling her of his strength, his passion, his endurance, his desire. His eyes whirl the red of the sun, rising on a clear day after many a day of rain.

Niyath> Pheirth beats at the air with harsh, firm strokes of wing. His size lending him power. Attention latched fully on Niyath and her golden glory. Up.. up..

Niyath> Randoth is nearly whimpering with exhaustion as he manages to get to Nyath's tail's level once more, probably the last one. To bite or not to bite? Surely a gentleman like him should try something subtler and then... She flees again. So never mind, he'll try pure luck and drops after Nyiath, aiming at a random spot where she could perfecly be... or not. At any rate he's ready to grab whatever will come, should it be a gold or the ground...

Jenna snaps at A'lex, "Love you! When you are best, you are a little worse than a man; and when you are worst, you are little better than a watchwher!"

Niyath> Orenth is foiled as somehow the gold catches a thermal and slips between his wingsails and out of reach, but only for the moment. He is lucky his decent was already slwoed and he is able to with great power sweep his great wings to carry him after the gold, just out of reach. He cries pitiously after the gold more intent now on having her. Toy with him she may, but have the final laugh he will. He beats his wings leaving no chance she will outpace him now, she is tiring, but so is he. She makes a dive and he fols wingsails in chase, oh no she doesn't. He drops like an arrow intent on catching her before she gets any further away, just climb once oh marvelous queen...

Niyath> Decarath? Ohyeah, that guy. He's still flying, teeth exposed in a snarl, still there. You know, if Niyath wants to pull a U-turn or something. Go Decarath! A'lex says "But when I am loved by you, I am mightier than all the dragons in the sky..."

Kaylira's hands unclench, her grimness lending itself to a hard smile at Jenna's words.

Niyath> Sandareth looks like someone hit him in the head with a plank as Niyath drops away from beneath him. /That/ wasn't in his plan! But never more mind, he can drop too! Tucking his wings he does just that, plunging after NIyath with every intent of salvation.

Niyath> Kannanth wearies. As she disappears from view into the fog, he gives a mournful cry, a bellow that tells his deepest longings, and he flings himself after her, down and down into the fog, reaching and reaching for her, the one he wants most. He spends the last of his energy here - he'll find her and take her, or be gone.

Niyath> Zerth shoots upward to follow the gold. He is, of course, tiring as all of them are. However, his youth is to his advantage, his stamina is great after the recent challenge of weyrlinghood. Coming from the side didn't work last time, so he tries coming up from beneath, turning slightly as he comes up to give him something to grab at the gold with.

Kannanth bespoke Niyath with « Lovely one! Where have you gone? I will find you. »

Niyath senses that Orenth is right behind and is pleading. « You grow tired, give in to your yearning, I am just above. Break you fall and join me. »

Lystra walks closer toward Jenna, not hiding the look of utter lust in her eyes. She watches Jenna, much as a dragon would watch a fat buck parading in the feeding grounds. She licks her lips, eyes flaming hungrily.

Niyath> For Gyreventh there is no choice he follows the violate haze of Niyath's mind through the fog bank, through, through, through to whatever is on the other side.

Niyath> The clouds below tickle the belly of the beast named Nraith. But only for a moment. Flying blindly, only his senses and lust to guide him, the Bronze lets the cloud envelop him. If it is her wish that she find him using his need alone, so be it. He will take up the challenge, and he will prevail.

N'sales turns hating eyes on A'lex and snarls. Completely lost to the emotions and feelings of the flight he has become.

A'lex turns towards N'sales with a smile, "She LOVES me!"

Oh yeah, he's gonna get his arse beat.

Niyath> The fog stirs and roils, coming off the mountaintops and streaming into the valley, turning the entire thing into a soup to hide Niyath in. She waits only long enough for the males to commit, and then reemerges at a near impossible angle, heading *back* along her previous path, and back towards the weyr. The climb is steep and punishing, taking up the last of her precious energy as she goes. Confusion now hath made his masterpiece! At least of most. She twists and turns, trying hard to shake Behemoth. She only just leaves him behind, though Rhouenth is left below in her punishing climb. Those that dropped: Orenth, Sandareth, Kannanth and Zerth all run out of luck. Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war! For this queen is near the end of her endurance.

Divya rolls her eyes and replies bluntly, "No she doesn't you idiotic wherry!"

S'lek stumbles out to see to his dragon.

Sh'yar smiles, the strong silent type.

X'tan watches a spot outside the weyr, "Careful...easy...you can do this." he murmurs to himself. He doesn't notice the rest of the discussion, or fighting, in the weyr.

Yashira shakes her head groggily, blinking and raising her head to eye the guest weyr. "Mmmph?"

Jenna laughs, her face coming alight, as she skips back a step from any who dared reach out to her. "Not yet, not yet," the murmur is almost a plea. "Don't let them catch you." Discretion, however, is the better part of valor, and so she retreats just to the weyr entrance, her eyes still glazed. Don't let them catch you, don't let one claim you, so Jenna can remain herself a little while longer.

Niyath> Pheirth fairly quivers in the air. wings outstretched at the top of a wingstroke, her hovers. One moment and one moment only. There. There she is. A golden glory ready to shed her robe of silver and slip into his embrace - but first he must catch her! Hold her steady.. With one powerful snap of wings he drops and reaches for her. She will be his or it won't be for lack of trying.

G'rad waits silent now, patient. His will entwined with Behemoth's own, to carry forth the bronze on his course. His eyes rest on the prize he would claim.

Niyath> THERE! Above! Whipping himself around at breakneck speed, Nraith chases after Niyath. He rises, but more slowly, staying below, out of her sightline. Yes, she loves him, but he still needs to be sneaky about it. Punishing the sky with his wings, he pulls himself along... closer... closer... until perhaps, just perhaps, he's close enough... and finally, with his last reserve of strength and then some, he launches deftly upwards in one final attempt.

Niyath> Randoth is just paralyzed, all limbs straining, reaching, aching. She might have forgotten him after all. And like this he might even look cute for her, she could pity him and let him catch her. Or maybe he might turn green with red spots. But then he doesn't care. Must. Catch. Shiny. Thing... Hope he won't grab another bronze first...

Niyath> Zerth follows hard, straining with everything that's left within him. He is young. He is strong. He can do this. His wings pump hard, the disturbed wind can probably be felt far below him, or so he feels. He comes up on the gold from below and to her left, making one last attempt.

A'lex says "Even stupid wherries need love..." A'lex sighs.

Niyath> Decarath flies still in the pea soup fog which rolls over him in tendrils, as if to comfort him by caressing him. The fog is cool and damp, and he opens his mouth to suck in a deep breath, slowly veering upward, slowly increasing in speed, and then he's clearly found his second wind and is pursuing with renewed vigour, swinging to the left again and straining his neck once more. And he is content in this triumph.

Decarath bespoke Niyath with « Are you tired of these fools yet? »

R'yat groans as he slides down to sit, exhaustion taking him already while his bronze is still being silly up there...

Niyath> Konnevath bugles as Niyath reappears! Joy! Triumph! She will be his! He may be smaller, but now is when maneuverability counts. The twist and return along his earlier path is difficult, but he manages it more swiftly than some of the bronzes still in pursuit. He calls upon his reserves and manages to get closer than he has yet succeeded this evening. He reaches out his wings and tail, crooning reassurances to the brave, beautiful, valiant and /stubborn/ gold!

Niyath> Gyreventh spies the queen heading back upwards towards his location as she rises higher and higher, he backwings in a last ditch effort using the last of his strength to entwine with the lovely queen and ensnare her in his loving embrace.

Niyath> Rhouenth roars long and hard, his vocal cords visibly vibrating from the outside. He zips after his queen, following the golden object of his desire through the inhibiting fog. His wings beat against the air, whump, whump, whump. His lungs push the air through his nostrils, thssh, thssh, thssh. It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves, and he knows his destiny. His songs echoes against the land below him, coming back to harmonize with itself. Everything that makes up his spirit, his body, his essence, pushes with his wings carrying him closer and closer to the fire that has ignited his desire. He reaches for her, mind, tail, body, neck, soul.

Niyath> Orenth doesn't give in that easy and sees the gold hide bank past him and what would tear a normal dragon apart. Furrowing his wings he tries to reproduce the feat, every muscle arching and the effort. He manages to break the dive and give chase, hoping beyond last hope to have her for his own. He follows her up, his only hope that she gives out before he does which won't be long now. Every fibre of his self startches out for her as he surges forward with reserves from who knows where? It is is enough though as he makes one last ditch effort for the queen as she climbs hoping to ensnare her in his wingtips wich reach out for her. heis croon is week as he doesn't even have energy for that.

Yashira is smiling now, smiling proudly.

N'sales screams in pain and drops to his knees arching his back. he looks up at Jenna, eyes pleading, red from the strain of the link between he an Orenth.

X'tan strains, his muscles fighting themselves as he wavers between movement and standing still. Those that keep him standing still are winning, but beads of sweat appear on his forehead and a flush on his cheeks.

Niyath> Only just behind, is still close enough for a final push on. Behemoth is not one so easily lost, and he will prove out. His size might slow him, but his endurance seems to know few bounds as he bellows out once more to the temptress and the fate she with holds from them. No, From him! He reaches out once more, neck stretched to it's limits, and tail lashing to entwine -- Ready, should she find her path to him!

Niyath senses that Orenth is aching for her embrace, pain searing through muscle and joints. « You flew well beautiful one, the chase is over, be mine. »

Jenna strains away from the maleriders, her face sheened in sweat. Abruptly hellishly aware that her mate's flight is about to be cut off. She holds up her hands to ward them off, and somehow, the gesture becomes confused. Instead her hands stretch out to one figure in particular. Who can control his fate? Jenna certainly cannot, though her queen tried her best. Better three hours too soon than a minute too late.

Niyath> Journeys end in lovers meeting, every wise man's son doth know. And this is no exception. Beset on all sides, she is snared first by the burst of speed from a surprising quarter. Yet too early seen unknown and known too late! It is Nraith who ensnares the prize, before the others can close in on her position. Gyreventh is close, only just missing out on the prize from above. Zerth below and to the left just can't quite get there in time. Decarath, for all his valiant effort, was just a fraction too slow. Konnevath and Rhouenth were just not quite close enough to grab her. Behemoth's size, though closest to hers, slowed him just too much. Niyath's scream of anger turns abruptly into one of capitulation as she is truly caught. It is Nraith - having nothing, there is nothing he can lose, and he has indeed won her, finally.

A'lex staggers for a moment.

Niyath> Decarath drops back, finally giving in to his weariness and spiraling down, down, down.

Niyath> It is not soit cannot be trueand yet.. tis! Over shot once again, Behemoth continues on his way, lost in misery as his supposed bride dallies with another. Will his time e'er come? Nay. Not today.

Niyath> Nraith wraps himself around the golden Queen, giving in completely to her, and to gravity.

Yashira rises slowly, still smiling a little. She glances at A'lex, biting her lower lip, and then staggers out of the weyr.

Lystra drops her head and looks toward the exit of the cavern, seeking the comfort of her dragon.

B'var makes a quick exit after one last longing look toward Jenna and an equally intense but definitely fierce and jealous glance A'lex's way.

Niyath> Rhouenth growls his frustration and flies lower.

R'yat stumbles out of the weyr as wuickly as he can...

Jenna's hands are still extended, eyes closed, breath held, waiting to see who it is that finally won her mate.

N'sales groans from the pain but manages to make his way up from his prone position only to make his way out of the weyr.

Divya is disappointed, but takes small comfort in the fact that G'rad did not win either. She stumbles outside, blindly looking for her dragon.

A'lex holds out his hand, like the cover of a romance novel and lets his hair out of it's runnertail. Where's the breeze when you need one?