Difference between revisions of "Logs:Of Changes in the Air"

Your location's current time: 15:41 on day 26, month 3, Turn 59, of the Tenth Pass. It is a spring afternoon.

You backwing to a neat landing on the ground. You clamber down Leiventh's side to the ground, as the dragon warbles a greeting. Eastern Bowl, High Reaches Weyr(#840RJs) Standing on the eastern side of the bowl, you realize why this is one of the most striking Weyrs on Pern. Arrayed around the north rim of the bowl are the Seven Spindles: high crownlike points formed of old volcano flows which were eroded to sharp spikes. The bowl itself is a rough ovoid shape, with a large lake taking up a good portion of the southeastern part. The bowl seems to slant down to the lake shore, and the soil becomes a little looser in that direction. From the east, the slight aroma of herdbeast and wherry hide rises from the feeding grounds. The northeast section of the bowl is full of activity: training of dragons both young and old goes on in a large clearing near the entrance to the weyrling barracks and dragon infirmary. Several small boulders dot the area to the north, forming a winding path to the ledges leading into the weyrleaders' quarters. The afternoon is dotted with a few grey clouds. It is raining lightly. It is completely still, no winds blow and the spring air is warm enough, with only a slight chill. The ground beneath your feet is wet from the last storm. Contents: Leiventh Charis Kinzaith Obvious exits: Weyrleader Ledges Western Bowl Floor Dragon Infirmary Candidate Barracks Weyrling Training Room Feeding Grounds Lake Shore

From high up on the bowl wall above the lake, there's the movement of yet another dragon passing through the sky, though the cinnamon bronze appears to have a tad more speed than is strictly recommended. Leiventh's wings snap outwards as he descends to the bowl floor, slowing his descent enough that his landing is - mostly - soft. "What," his rider mutters, "Was that?" R'hin seems more bemused than anything, as he drops to the ground, eyeing the dragon sidelong.

Leiventh> To you, Leiventh seems not in the least apologetic. « Flying. »

In the sky directly above, Kyreth wings down to a quick landing on the ground. Kyreth has arrived.

Ayana slides down Kyreth's side to the ground. Ayana has arrived.

Josilina strides down the short flight of steps from the weyrleader ledges. Josilina has arrived.

R'hin's standing in the bowl, shielded from the light rain by one of Leiventh's thoughtfully outstretched wings. The bronzerider's doing what can only be termed as 'loitering', arms folded, eyes on the comings and goings in the bowl with a distant sort of look.

Kyreth and Ayana wink in from Between, making a landing right towards the lake shore abruptly. "We were suppose to land /outside/ the Weyr, not in the middle of the sharding bowl..." the brownrider is heard stating as she slides down. The light rain only deems fit to irritate her more, giving the brown a look. With something spoken in silence, she rolls her eyes and steps close to shield herself from the rain with a grumbled "Fine, have it your way...for now." This is all before she notices the loitering R'hin and Leiventh, which brightens her mood considerably as she heads his way.

S'rist meanders down the short flight of steps from the weyrleader ledges. S'rist has arrived.

Leiventh cracks an eye long enough to greet the arriving Igen brown with a low, bassy rumble, more felt than heard. It's enough to draw R'hin's attention with a puzzled glance, expression clearing as he sees the Igen rider. "Aya," he greets with an easy smile. "Didn't expect to see you here." He takes a step forward as if in welcome, though remains under the sheltering spread of the bronze's wing.

In the sky directly above, Niereth wings down and lands lightly on the ground. Niereth has arrived.

E'tyn slides down from Niereth. E'tyn has arrived.

S'rist wanders down from his ledge, a buckle of some kind in his hands that he's tugging at and eyeing speculatively as he strides out further into the bowl, getting the better light of the cloud filled sky rather than the dim light of the glows.

Josilina comes down the steps from her ledge with a look of vague irritation, muttering to herself. Maybe it's the rain. Or maybe it's the gold lounging on said ledge, her hide a very distinct shade of Unusually Bright. "Reaches duties," she calls to the landing brownpair, not going terribly far from the base of the stairs. As S'rist descends she moves out of the way, pausing before following the Weyrleader, asking, "Did you get my note about the traders?"

In the bowl, to the west, Melata meanders out of the living cavern.

M'hon walks over from the western side of the bowl. M'hon has arrived.

Insreth tromps over from the western side of the bowl. Insreth has arrived.

In the bowl, to the west, Verenth raises his head to look across the bowl at the gathering browns and bronzes. He wrinkles his muzzle and snorts. His rider pats him on the shoulder, "Yes, yes. We all know that you could fly that gold, any gold, if you wanted to. You just want to let the larger dragons have a chance every once in a while."

S'rist looks up from the buckle and over towards Josilina, "Was it the one about wanting to get those pots mended in the kitchens?" Then he ahs a moment, "Or, I remember now, the one about the seasonal route with the Dijilia. I gave it a quick read, seemed like you have it well in hand, and it sure seems like a good agreement to me, if they're willing to risk the weather to get here."

Kyreth is quick to return the greeting to Leiventh as Ayana moves to stand beside his rider with a warm grin. "Wasn't suppose to be /here/," she explains almost crossly, "but Ky wants to do what he wants today." She looks towards the other end of the bowl, probably figuring out the distance it would take to get out of here before Josilina's greeting gets her attention. With a curt nod towards her, "Igen's duties," she gives as she looks back to R'hin. "How's it been?" she asks, only giving the arrving riders a curious glance.

Niereth's arrival is quick: from betweening in to spiraling neatly down into the bowl. Instinctively, the young man tightens his flight jacket about his chin and casts a glance about from the perch of his dragon, thought furrowing the space between his eyes. The package tucked beneath an arm tightens, and somehow the Telgari bronzerider manages to slide down to the ground with a salute for the various riders he notes, and a mild, "Telgar's duties to High Reaches Weyr."

R'hin's attention slides sidelong towards Josilina, and it's not the shade of her dragon's hide that's attracting his attention; a brief frown of thought crosses his features before it smoothes away just as abruptly. The cant of Leiventh's wing is shifted slightly to provide shelter for Ayana as well, the bronzerider's lips curving upwards. "I should be asking -you- that. Is Igen well?" E'tyn's greeting earns a slide of eyes in the Telgarian's direction, lips twitching.

"I've already got a meeting set up about the pots," Josilina says, adding with a grimace, "Though if Cook comes after me about it again too soon, I'll just have her do it." Unusually snippy for this particular goldrider, perhaps, but you know. The rain. "Right. Well. They were thinking about maybe the arrangement including transportation aide from a wing. We'd have to talk to the wingleaders, obviously. And work out compensation, if they agree." - "Duties." She calls out to the other new arrivals, lifting a hand in greeting.

Insreth has been here, really he has... lounging off to the side now for some time while his rider was conducting business with one of the stationed crafters the Telgari bronzerider knows here at Reaches. The fact that the bronzerider came across a couple of cute girls while here has nothing to do with it, right? Suurre. But alas, M'hon had just finished up and has headed over from the general direction of the living caverns.

S'rist gives a nod towards the arriving visitors, "High Reaches duties..." then his attention is back to the weyrwoman, "I agree, we'll have to work out something with them. I suspect we'll have to see just how much assistance they'll need to make it work."

Ayana cants her head in a wordless nod of thanks to Leiventh's offer of shielding as her eyes roam about the various riders again with mild interest. "Igen's coping well," she answers R'hin as she does so, "but we lost an egg on the sands, found out. Has Rohzenth in a fit." The Igenite brownrider doesn't miss anything, however, as her gaze takes in the Telgari riders with mild interest before looking towards the other Reachian riders.

Catching sight of R'hin's familiar face, E'tyn halts the uneasy shuffling of his feet and straightens his stance along his back a touch. The saluting arm falls to allow his package to exchange spots, and as he hasn't spotted his fellow Telgarian rider yet, the young man steps towards R'hin and Ayana. "I'm looking for H'ten, if you might know of him?" Niereth shifts, discomforted and extends his wings in a split-second stretch that results in his wings snapped open and shut again, pressed closer to his side for the mini-exercise.

Satiet goes over from the western side of the bowl. Satiet has arrived.

"You lost--" a beat, R'hin's expression downcast. "I'm sorry to hear that. I hope you'll pass on my regrets to Kaeryna. The candidates?" he queries, eyes sliding past her to E'tyn as the other bronzerider approaches. "E'tyn of Telgar! How fares your parents?" if it seems like casual, polite enquiry, well, it's easy enough to mistake. "H'ten? Mm, I know of him." A sidelong glance to Leiventh, then, "I believe he'll be returning from sweeps shortly."

Josilina nods briefly, "Right. Someone's meeting with them in not too long. I think. So that shouldn't be too hard to work out." Her lips thin as she glances around the bowl, giving M'hon another brief nod as she spots him going by. "Busy day, today," the mutter seems more for her own benefit than anyone else's.

S'rist considers a moment the gathering crowd, "Indeed, quite a lot of people about for such a dreary day. Maybe I should invite everyone inside for some klah to fend off the chills."

The interlude between Igenite brownrider and Reachian bronzerider garners just the slightest upward lift of E'tyn's brow. But even more surprising for the young man is an affirmative from R'hin, large eyes blinking owlishly. "Ah-," he hesitates and then nods briskly, "Thank you, I'll have to wait as his sister said this should be delivered in person." He's silent a while, watchful of R'hin, and then, after dark eyes scrutinize the bronzerider for far too long, remarks cordially, "My parents are well. As well as can be expected."

In the bowl, to the west, Verenth snorts again as he watches several more browns and bronzes glide in and the crowd of riders grow. No one seems to be dispersing with any speed.

Satiet jogs up from the lake shore, a steady beat to her gait and sweat accumulating on her brow and neck. Her ponytail swings idly with her movement, and while she seems lost in the thoughts that an afternoon jog in light rain might bring, the sudden influx of both familiar and unfamiliar faces in the bowl stops the young weyrwoman short.

Above the bowl, to the west, Wydreth rises effortlessly into the sky from Dasmareth's ledge, low on the Western bowl wall. Above the bowl, to the west, Wydreth wings down to a quick landing on the ground.

Ayana nods slowly to R'hin's condolences, "I'll be sure to let Kaeryna know," she murmurs quietly as she looks across the bowl again briefly. "The candidates are well, including Kalliope," she answers simply as she looks E'tyn over curiously. "Got banged up in the wrist alittle, but it's healing well. Igen's duties," she adds, finally sending the Telgari a greeting with a nod as she listens to the exhange between the two.

In the bowl, to the west, G'non slides lightly down Wydreth's foreleg to the ground.

In the bowl, to the west, G'non swings down from Wydreth's back to a shoulder, and then to the ground. He winces just slightly as he lands.

R'hin's not unaware of the watchful scrutiny of the Telgarian bronzerider, if the brief curve of lips is any indicator. "Good to know," is his mild reply, "That you are a dutiful son." A sidelong glance is given Leiventh, puzzled almost, speculative, though Ayana's words are distraction, attention shifting back to her. "I'm glad to hear it. Have you met E'tyn of Telgar? Ayana, of Igen." The introductions brief, clipped.

In the bowl, to the west, Verenth makes room for the bronze. Melata looks around Verenth's neck. "G'non! Long time, no see...you have been a busy man, I hear."

Josilina looks increasingly edgy - twitchy, almost - as she stands in the bowl, watching the various visitors and locals. "Maybe." She answers S'rist, admitting in a lower tone, "Though I really don't know that - Satiet!" Her voice rises sharply at the junior's appearance. She goes towards the younger woman, already speaking, "Satiet, I think you and Teonath need to get out of here. Sort of now."

M'hon sends a jaunty salute to Josilina as well as S'rist as he passes on the way to his lifemate. He calls a greeting to E'tyn as well, but Insreth is behaving oddly in comparison to his calm and collected usual self.

Her name spoken, the younger weyrwoman's pale gaze veers sharply to Josilina and lingers there a beat, before turning up to the gold on the Weyrwoman's ledge. Her lips twitch, then thin and with a low exhale and wordless nod of assent, Satiet makes a continued arc about the bowl where she's met by Teonath. Fleeting in her gaze, however, are the variety of males gathered, the familiar causing more distress than the unfamiliar.

Satiet meanders towards the western side of the bowl. Satiet has left.

Above the bowl, to the west, Teonath launches into the sky from the ground below. Above the bowl, to the west, Teonath climbs higher in the bowl sky. High in the bowl, Teonath disappears into Between.

S'rist eyes Josilina for a moment after she speaks with Satiet, then glances up over towards the ledge he left just a few moments ago. He takes the buckle he was fiddling with and tucks it into one of the pockets of his jacket. "I suspect that we've just about conducted all the business we're doing to conduct today..."

"Impression doesn't change family," replies E'tyn evenly, his free arm coming up to scratch at his neck. A smile soon finds the young man's mouth, shaping his uncertain distance into a warmer, or at least more placid regard for Ayana. "Good afternoon, ma'am. Telgar's duties to Igen Weyr and her queens." For now, he omits the typical salute that follows those words, for somewhere in his periphery, the Weyrwoman's words to another woman captures his attention and his chin lifts, tilts, and pauses.

The call of the junior weyrwoman's name attracts R'hin's attention, too, the sandy-haired bronzerider's eyes sliding in her direction with a furrowing of brow, following her gaze to Lhiannoth's ledge a beat later with an exhaled, "-Oh-." Abruptly uneasy, he shifts his glance to Leiventh, lips pursed. No reply is given to E'tyn's comment, though he ordinarily would.

In the bowl, to the west, Wydreth gazes eastward with a longing expression. He flexes his wings experimentally, the left still stiff and somewhat unresponsive. "No," G'non tells him firmly. "You are NOT fully healed, you are NOT in peak condition, and you are NOT going to injure yourself chasing."

Ayana's gaze lingers on E'tyn for a moment as R'hin gives his query. "No, I haven't , but nice to meet you," she gives with a grin. Josilina's call to Satiet has the brownrider looking from her lifemate to the goldrider, a small frown forming as Satiet disappears. "Well what..." she begins in bemusement as her eyes return to Kyreth. "Ah, ofcourse," she just says to no one in particularly, dryly. E'tyn's words to R'hin about family doesn't go amiss as her focus returns to R'hin.

Leiventh> To you, Leiventh hears your unspoken request, and just as flatly denies it, as forceful as you've ever heard him. « We do not leave High Reaches today. »

Some of the tension in Josilina's stance relaxes as Satiet leaves with all due speed. "Sharding, ridiculous - shells." The junior's departure was well-timed, it seems, as on the ledge Lhiannonth raises her head, rumbling low. "Well. That's that then." Josi says, a bit grim and making her way towards the guest weyrs across the bowl as the gold launches into a low glide that carries her to the feeding pens.

In the bowl, to the west, Verenth sweeps his tail back and forth, then settles down himself. His rider rolls her eyes and thumps him once on a foreleg.

Lhiannonth lumbers over from the western side of the bowl. Lhiannonth has arrived.

Lhiannonth flies east across the bowl, over the fence and into the feeding grounds. Lhiannonth has left.

Dzurath tromps down the short flight of steps from the weyrleader ledges. Dzurath has arrived.

Dzurath flies east across the bowl, over the fence and into the feeding grounds. Dzurath has left.

Josilina meanders towards the western side of the bowl. Josilina has left.

In the bowl, to the west, Josilina goes up the stone steps onto the ledge of the ground level guest weyr.

S'rist gives a nod and tromps after Josilina, "I guess that is it... so much for reworking duty rosters tonight." And with that he makes his way towards the guest weyr.

S'rist meanders towards the western side of the bowl. S'rist has left.

In the bowl, to the west, S'rist walks up the stone steps onto the ledge of the ground level guest weyr.

In the bowl, to the west, Melata asks G'non, "It is Lhiannoth, and I see Dzurath over there. Do you think any of them have a chance against our esteemed Weyrleader? Of course, Dzurath is getting a bit long in the tooth...and there are a number of younger dragons over there...."

Insreth flies east across the bowl, over the fence and into the feeding grounds. Insreth has left.

Kyreth flies east across the bowl, over the fence and into the feeding grounds. Kyreth has left.

E'tyn blanches, pale and visibly forces his body to pivot and take in Niereth, who's been ready, who has known far earlier than his naive rider, who has taken off towards the feeding pens on Lhiannonth's trail. The visage of a golden tail in flight has caught his attention completely, and in spite of the straps that line his back, the bronze dragon means to chase: rider's disagreement or no. "Shades," he exhales and tears little nail holes into that package. Generally, he seems uncertain of what to do and just stares.

Niereth flies east across the bowl, over the fence and into the feeding grounds. Niereth has left.

Something makes R'hin's expression darken considerably, lips pressing together in anger, eyes focused on Leiventh. The dragon's oblivious or uncaring, withdrawing his wing as he tenses, and leaps over into the feeding grounds. With an exhale of breath, jaw clenched, his rider turns and stalks towards the guest weyr.

Leiventh flies east across the bowl, over the fence and into the feeding grounds. Leiventh has left.

You wander towards the western side of the bowl. You go up the stone steps onto the ledge of the ground level guest weyr. Ground Level Guest Weyr(#480RJs) The ledge at the front of the guest weyr commands an imposing view over the bowl to the north. A flight of stone steps links the ledge to the floor of the bowl. The ledge is shaded from the sun at midday. The weyr is lit by a few glows, and whatever daylight enters from the opening to the ledge. You can make out a couch, big enough for most dragons to rest comfortably on, and next to it an alcove containing a cot and press for the accompanying rider. Although this weyr is not permanently occupied, it is kept tidy by the women of the lower caverns, and a pitcher of water and a bowl of fruit bear witness to its constant state of ready welcoming. Contents: S'rist Josilina Obvious exits: Sky STairs

Leiventh> In the bowl, As the bowl empties into a hole in the wall, and Niereth is far too inclined to stay than leave, the young Telgarian bronzerider mechanically moves his feet to follow the crowd.

E'tyn walks up the stone steps from the the bowl floor. E'tyn has arrived.

Leiventh> In the bowl, Ayana just rolls her eyes as Kyreth heads off to the ground, then follow after the riders slowly.

Leiventh> In the bowl, M'hon wrinkles his nose and shakes his head, "Shells and shards." he mutters, striding off following the other maleriders. Despite his flirtatious ways he doesn't actually like flights.

Ayana comes up the stone steps from the the bowl floor. Ayana has arrived.

M'hon comes up the stone steps from the the bowl floor. M'hon has arrived.

Leiventh> Lhiannonth circles the pens, letting the animals below scatter at her approach. Her glide is surprisingly slow - leisurely, even - for the situation, up until she folds her wings and lands almost full on top of one of the slower herdbeasts. There's the token hesitation before she sets herself to blood, tail curling and uncurling somewhat spasmodically behind her, and it's a quick process before she's up again and after a wherry.

Josilina makes a point to make it to the weyr before the rest of the group, staking out her spot: a space of wall she can lean against, turning a redfruit over in her hands that she picked up from the bowl on her way.

Leiventh> Leiventh is in his element, the feeding grounds his familiar territory, the stampeding creatures eyed with a proprietary air as the bronze touches down inside the fence. Crimson-draped wings are spread wide, less for balance, more to give himself that edge: to make his lengthy frame look bigger, more fearsome, more intimidating. A low growl emanates from his throat, preceding a quick selection of meal, a short hop, a rending of ivory talons and a squeal of a young herdbeast that is cut short as the dragon begins blooding.

Leiventh> While the radiant queen takes her time, Niereth's already landed in youthful impetuousness and raked down a large buck; there's nowhere to run for the beasts today. A ripple of his musculature begins along his neck and cascades down along his hide to his back flanks as the exsanguination of the herdbeast courses new life through the younger of the two Telgari bronzes. Flattery lights up his lust-hardened eyes, as they sketch the gleaming figure Lhiannonth makes.

Leiventh> Dzurath takes down a herdbeast with a quick snap of his jaws and a twist of his neck. He may be the elder but there is no white in his hide and he's not going to let one of these young rivals show him up.

Leiventh> Kyreth is quick to land on the feeding ground and stake his claim on a wherry. Tail lashing a bit in agitation, he sets to draining it of blood as he tears into the helpless creature. He's more about getting it done as quickly and as fiercely as he can, eyes keeping on the gleaming gold with hunger.

Looking vaguely sick, E'tyn tramps up the stairs to the guest weyr and slumps against the wall nearest the entrance. While other riders might be watching Josilina, and through the eyes of flight, the dragon the Weyrwoman rides, the young man's eyes close and the little fingernail holes he's marked in the package deepen with renewed grip. Nerves, really, and fear that shows fleeting when he takes the chance to peek about.

R'hin's anger sloughs away reluctantly as eyes grow distant, pulled by his dragon's bloodlust and the side-effects thereof. He doesn't park himself in one particular spot, moving to the center of the weyr, pacing back and forth in the open space. He's restless, though it's not nerves that drives the movement, for each step is one of confident assurance, eyes inevitably drawn towards Josilina with an intent, possessive gleam of pale eyes.

S'rist doesn't get very far into the weyr, picking out a spot along the wall for himself. He leans back against it and starts to eye the other riders. He doesn't show the effect of his lifemate's blooding in his expression, the only clue that he's more than just observing from there the way his eyes linger for just a moment overlong on Josilina and her redfruit.

Ayana walks in slowly and finds a piece of wall to stick against as she scans the other riders absently. Her hazel gaze takes in Josilina every other moment before R'hin's pacing garners some of it, and it's evident that there's a mild irritation in her stance.

Leiventh> Insreth is also bleeding a herdbeast the bronze had taken down while the queen was choosing her kill, lapping at the torn jugular with military-like efficiency. His wings are partially spread and soon he's off to dispatch another beast.

Leiventh> Lhiannonth pays little to no attention to her suitors - competitors, at this point, until she's tired enough to consider them as otherwise. She only pays heed to them as she must, moving out of their way, or in amusing herself by throwing a drained wherry carcass - her second - in the path of one of the younger bronzes.

M'hon ambles into the guest weyr and looks around. He heads over to the dragon couch and sits on it cross-legged in calm silence, as calm as his lifemate is despite everything, although there's a hint of irritation around the edges of his mouth.

Leiventh> As one of those younger bronzes, Niereth looks taken aback first, and then only thinks to move a half beat too late getting a face full of wherry feathers that obscure his vision. Blink, blink. This does little, unfortunately, to swerve his desires as after a shake of his neck, a sinuous twist this way and that dislodging what feathers might still be stuck, he returns to his killing: another buck goes down with a swift tail lash, and with ease, the young bronze pounces backward onto his second.

Leiventh> The facets of Leiventh's eyes gleam a mingled red and purple, the cant of his head bespeaking clear interest in, and awareness of, Lhiannonth's presence in the feeding grounds. The need for blood uppermost in his mind right now, the young Reachian bronze is swiftly in the air, pulling down a slightly larger herdbeast, using the weight of his momentum to snap the creature's neck cleanly, before already bloodied muzzle lowers to drink deeply, crimson wings mantling over his kill. He's angling for a third when he's nearly hit by the discarded carcass of the queen, ruffling of wings bespeaking momentary perturbation, eyeing the other dragons nearby before seeking another kill.

Leiventh> Dzurath takes a wherry on the run with another snap of his jaws, draining it to add to the heated blood of the herdbeast. There is a ruffle in his wings, readying but not tensing, not yet. There is blood to draw yet before the chase.

Leiventh> Kyreth discards the wherry with a toss, not even giving any of the bronzes a glance as he launches onto another. Snag, tear, and drink shows he's to the point. No flourishing acts from this brown as he drains the life from the creature with deft smoothness.

As R'hin paces back and forth, pale eyes flicker to take note of each of the other riders, some dismissed immediately and others given careful, wary evaluation. Inevitably, his gaze slides back towards Josilina, his pace slowing for those steps that take him nearer to her position against the wall.

Ayana clenches a fist absently as her hazel gaze slides to each rider in her vincinity before returning to Josilina with intensity. There's that distant look in her eyes as she links more with her lifemate, along with an increase of irritation.

Once it's clear even wherries flung in his face won't deviate Niereth's fixation on Lhiannonth, E'tyn seems to resign himself to his fate and gives himself over to the flood of emotions of his dragon. The change is visible: the slump disappearing as shoulders roll back and the young man's regard shifting from fear into something just a touch sharper and discerning. With eyes open now, the young man's bovinish gaze skips across the other riders to hone in on Josilina, and his breath catches, making his one forward step bolder.

Leiventh> Insreth dispatches a third beast swiftly and with an elegance that indicates a lot of sharding practice...of killing herdbeasts anyway. None the less, he's quickly finished with that beast and with partially extended wings waits impatiently.

M'hon sighs and shakes his head, propping his chin on an elbow as he watches the differing reactions of the other riders. And if his gaze lingers a bit more on Josilina, it's not like the others would really notice.

Leiventh> Lhiannonth takes another wherry as her last kill, keeping her head bent over it until it's thoroughly blooded. Waste not, want not. There's no food-throwing this time, she simply discards the body and, with a sharp bugle, leaps upwards.

Leiventh> Lhiannonth rises up into the sky. Leiventh> Lhiannonth has left.

Leiventh> Niereth rises up into the sky. Leiventh> Niereth has left.

Leiventh> Dzurath springs powerfully into the sky. Leiventh> Dzurath has left.

Leiventh> Kyreth finishes his kill just as Lhiannoth launches into the sky. With a defiant shriek, he's in the air as well, flying after the few bronzes that launched before him.

Leiventh> High in the bowl, Dzurath gives chase with a bugle of his own, wings spreading to scoop the sky as he climbs upwards and upwards, chasing after the glowing form of Lhiannonth. His tail streams behind him straight, wings shifting just enough to try to catch a thermal and rise faster after his golden target.

Leiventh> Leiventh finds his third kill, a slow wherry that is dispatched with a messy swipe of blood-soaked ivory claw, the dragon unheeding of the carnage left behind in his wake. Halfway through blooding, his angular frame freezes, only the length of whipcord tail twitching, head unerringly canting towards Lhiannonth. A low rumble begins in his throat at the bugle given, and it's hard to say if it's challenge, warning or both. Wings snap outward with an audible crack, muscles tensing beneath crimson-splashed cinnamon hide as the Reachian bronze seeks the skies, locked on the queen's fleeting figure.

Leiventh> You rise up into the sky. Leiventh> You fly higher in the sky. Leiventh> Sky High in the Bowl, High Reaches Weyr Leiventh> As you soar high above the bowl, you find yourself at a most unique point in the sky; here, near the lip of the bowl, the southeast is fully visible - the open sky stretches to the Western Mountain Range. Behind you, though, to the northwest, you can catch only occassional glimpses of the landscape through the spaces between the Seven Spindles. Through the first and second spires, you can see out to the mountains surrounding the weyr. If you know just where to look, you can also glimpse part of the winding road leading to the Weyr. Ledges are hewn into the rock face in all directions, each with a dragon's weyr behind it. The winds here are usually calm, with the protection of the Weyr's walls to keep the worst gusts at bay. Still, flying can be a little difficult as an errant thermal sometimes crosses the bowl. Leiventh> Views: Weyrs Leiventh> Contents: Leiventh> Dzurath(#9819JQaeps) Leiventh> Niereth Leiventh> Lhiannonth Leiventh> Obvious exits: Leiventh> Lower Western Sky Lower Eastern Sky Star Stones Up

Leiventh> Quick to shed preparations for a third kill from his limbs, Niereth flings himself up to the skies with all his youthful energy, with the streamlined sleekness of his wings pressed to his sides and tail flattened in the air. When he's at risk of falling, only then does the wide green-striated wings spread to catch what little rain still falls from above, and a thermal that lofts him higher from below.

Leiventh> Below you, to the east, Kyreth wings upward in the bowl sky. Leiventh> Kyreth has arrived.

Josilina's eyes narrow at any and all who make moves of approach, still passing the redfruit from hand to hand. At one point she stops, holding it still and tense like she's about to throw it - not entirely unlike Lhiannonth's game of Catch A Wherry outside - but then it's back to the rhythmic back-and-forth.

Her gaze is enough to stop him, E'tyn's second step not bold enough to be followed by a third. But at least, at the very least, the young man's bolstered by his own strength than the support of the weyr's wall. The rise of dragons outside courses through the young bronzerider as ruddiness touches his cheeks - the cool spring wind that his dragon faces, seeming to blow over him physically as well. "Do you-," his voice hesitates as he finds M'hon nearby, and then he pushes forward, Lemosian accent becoming thicker and slightly slurred, "D'ya think this'll end good t'all?"

Leiventh> Below you, to the east, Insreth rises up in the bowl sky. Leiventh> Insreth has arrived.

There's no release of tension on R'hin's part as the dragons take to the skies, only a slight pause as he comes to the end of his path, his turn more slow, deliberate, pale eyes distant, locked on Josilina but undoubtedly seeing the golden form of Lhiannonth. With a deliberate exhale, the rider becomes more himself, less his dragon, and the pacing resumes, taking him closer to the goldrider. There's an unbidden curve of lips as if the woman's narrow-eyed warning is welcomed.

Ayana watches intently as it almost looks as though Josilina's about to throw that redfruit at those approaching. There's something glinting in her expression as her gaze passes over both R'hin and E'tyn's boldness with a feral look of a challenge before she looks back to the goldrider.

"Hard to say, E'tyn. Council your lifemate as best you can." M'hon says, his expression sober. It's all tactics for this brinzerider at the moment. His eyes note movement, commiting actions to memory both in the weyr and in the sky through his lifemate.

S'rist finds himself gazing into his eyelids, lost in the connection with his lifemate now, letting nothing show here as he experiences only the thrill of flight and chase through the bond.

Leiventh> Lhiannonth is all about the up-up-and-away in these early stages, focusing on distancing herself from the bronzes and browns - particularly those younger ones, with all their excess energy. It's not a particularly cunning strategy, but it has its merits. Her breath clouds pale in the colder sky air, where the light rain begins to turn icier as they go higher above the bowl.

Leiventh> For rain turned ice, Niereth has little defense, but the chilling spikes that pierce into his coppery skin doesn't seem to bother the young dragon. Instead, the shades of lusty lavender turn filtered as one set of his 'lids shut to protect his eyes. He banks on speed, a speed that attempts to outpace the others early on but still maintains his distance from Lhiannonth - instinct, lest the melodic shine of the senior queen's hide changes course, shifting when he might least expect.

Leiventh> Dzurath sideslips from warm thermal to cooler air, his wings beating powerfully, but as he beats and tries to chase after the golden Lhiannonth his right wing begins to shorten its stroke, just a little at first, but growing more pronounced. It isn't long before he gives a frustrated bugle and is forced to turn off into a glide down towards the ground, age and experience telling him when a strain in his wing is too much for him to continue, that this gold is going to be out of his reach and that it is better to land now rather than suffer permanent harm should he continue.

Leiventh> Kyreth is unfamiliar with the High Reaches air currents, apparently. He's off to a slow start, the currents much colder in flight than the Igen brown's use to as the light rain beats against his wings in the sky. Despite the climate, he's ever the tolerant one as he keeps the queen in his sights. Atleast, for now, he's positioned himself by a couple of bronzes, waiting for that moment to slip on by.

Leiventh> Leiventh, while perhaps not as fleet as some of the other dragons to take the skies, is not in the least daunted by the age and experience of some of his compatriots. These are his skies, the air currents familiar, each gust of cold wind and spike of rain, each thermal known, welcomed, and used to his advantage. He's firmly in the midst of the pack, low warning rumble given at the nearness of one of the Telgarian bronzes. Though the end goal is never forgotten, Lhiannonth is for now, far out of his reach, her other suitors the bigger concern for the time being.

S'rist starts to frown, then a low growl in his throat as he barks out a single, "Shards!" and then turns towards the entrance to the weyr, storming out and down into the bowl, without a single glance behind.

Leiventh> Dzurath flies lower in the bowl, towards the western wall. Leiventh> Dzurath has left.

S'rist goes down the stone steps into the floor of the bowl. S'rist has left.

Josilina's glare only narrows further at R'hin's continued approach and the redfruit stops its back and forth journey again. But it's Ayana's eyes she catches, as the brownrider looks back towards her, and Jos grins abruptly, tossing the fruit in her general direction with a somewhat distracted, "Catch." It's just on the heels of that that S'rist takes his abrupt leave and she blinks in surprise.

R'hin's lip curls slightly at E'tyn's hesitant question, pale eyes fixing on the Telgarian bronzerider and deliberately, obviously, dismissing him with a tip of head. S'rist's abrupt departure, however, causes a misstep, pale eyes widening and low-throated laugh following the departing rider.

Ayana bares teeth in a grin at Josilina's glare at the bronzerider before it vanishes at the redfruit toss in her direction. It's R'hin's laugh that catches her off-guard when she snags the redfruit, hazel eyes following S'rist out the weyr with an odd curl of lips.

Leiventh> Lhiannonth continues with the upwards approach, though she begins to level out eventually. As she slants to bank a curved turn one of the local bronzes moves to attempt a catch, but he's easily avoided. Not the oppertune moment, apparently. The gold vocalizes her scorn - abrupt, and brief - completing the turn and continuing outwards.

M'hon's words and R'hin's laughter sit uneasily on E'tyn's lanky shoulders and couple that with the exit of the Reachian Weyrleader and the young bronzerider turns pale. It's in this paleness that Niereth completes the bond, his rider's defenses down enough for the exhilaration of flight to settle into the younger of the two Telgari's shoulders.

Leiventh> Insreth makes for the thermal, pushing to keep up with the queen while keeping an eye on the other dragons. He's patient all plans and strategy although the scornful snort by Lhiannonth has him streaking after her.

M'hon watches the weyrleader leave with arched eyebrows, "Now that was unexpected..." he murmurs and shrugs fatalistically, "So turns the wheel of chance." Still positioned on the dragon couch, he has a good view of the other riders.

Leiventh> Niereth quests higher in unfamiliar skies with winds that completely disregard the recent lessons and drills of weyrlinghood. The wide stretch of his wings aim to encompass Lhiannonth; across the massive distance between the pair. That a bronze has dropped out of sight, one of many perhaps, is given no marked attention as he jockeys for a place near the lead of the pack. A bugle, clear and brassy in the Reachian sky, reaches across to caress the luminous queen with young promises, hopes, and desires.

Leiventh> Leiventh's crimson-draped wings flare red in the hazy light, beating against the wind and rain both with blood-fuelled determination. Dzurath's departure goes unnoticed by the young Reachian bronze, much in the same way those cast off and left behind have no place in his mind. It's Lhiannonth's scorn that focuses his attention, recognizing that dismissal and responding to it, redoubling his efforts to prove that he, above others, is worthy of attention. The facets of his eyes whirl with heady determination and desire, fixed on the golden queen's form as he slices through the air.

Leiventh> Kyreth finally makes that slip pass the couple of bronzes that he 'allowed' to fly with him, sending a challenge both ways as he flies by. While the Reachian air is still a deterrent for the Igen brown, he slices nearer to the queen now, picking up speed and letting Dzurath slip back down without another glance.

Josilina's narrow look takes on a new quality in S'rist's absence - more evaluating, and somewhat calculating, as it flicks from rider to rider, hands balling into fists briefly and then unclenching, and when she glances at Ayana she looks like she misses that redfruit.

R'hin's stalking path back and forth across the floor of the weyr continues, though the slight sheen of sweat touching his brow indicates he's not unaffected by the distant drama that's unfolding. Whenever his path takes him closer to Josilina, the looks he gives her are confident, certain, cocky even.

Ayana doesn't miss the altering of Josilina's look before she tosses the redfruit back to her. The other riders at this point, with S'rist gone, get calculting looks as though she's sizing them up. There's a tenseness to her now as she continues to clench and un-clench her fist.

Leiventh> Lhiannonth banks in a sharp turn, aiming - abruptly - to swing below some of the nearer chasers, just - hopefully - out of their reach. Amber and gilt glint with ice and her tail lashes in her wake as she rumbles - taunting? - at the pass, going steadfast in the new direction.

Leiventh> And now the true games begin; Leiventh is in his element, breaking away from the pack of males, rising higher, catching that thermal he -knows- is there. Height gained, the winds are a shade less fickle further up, the steady beat of crimson wings increasing to speeding rhythm as he closes the gap between himself and Lhiannonth, low, rumbling challenge issuing forth. Her abrupt change of direction catches him unawares, the tilt of wings altering his path to match hers, muscles rippling beneath lengthy frame as he seeks to regain the ground he's lost.

Leiventh> Undone by the taunting, Niereth bugles again, brassy and high. His challenge is too young, his desire inexperienced, and his wings seem to know not what to do when Lhiannonth banks sharply, despite the distance he's granted the gold. Shooting above and beyond, the Telgari bronze flies beyond where the Reaches senior queen once flew and the bugle turns into strangled distress as he attempts to make up lost ground by a swerve that's far too tight about the corners back down.

Leiventh> Kyreth catches Lhiannoth's sharp turn before he alters his own, staying beneath and to the left of her as his speed takes him closer to the prize. He's close to Leiventh as he loses ground from the queen's sharp turn, giving a bugle as he re-positions himself to attempt his catch. His wings beat against the light rain furiously as he flies higher.

Niereth's loss is E'tyn's loss and despair flies quick across the young bronzerider's face. The significance of the flight is meaningless now as the shaggy blonde hair is raked through with impatience. Low utterances, that only those near can distinguish, seem to be urging Niereth back into the game, and as if predetermining the outcome of what his dragon will do and claim, E'tyn takes further steps forward, fixing darkly glazed eyes on Josilina and drawing up midst the suitors closest the Weyrwoman.

A hiss of breath bespeaks R'hin's momentary frustration as Lhiannonth continues to elude capture, wide, almost wild eyes flickering unerringly back towards Josilina. A low, warning growl is given as one of the others pushes closer to him - and thus closer to the Weyrwoman, chin tilting upwards with renewed determination.

Leiventh> Lhiannonth makes easy work of dodging Kyreth, twisting out of the way of his claws. The twist, however, slows her down and she broadens her wingstrokes to make up for lost ground and pull out of the more densely populated area of sky. She swings her tail in closer, away from an older brown, and aims for a clearer stretch of air up and to the left.

Ayana is one of those keeping back, though the intensity in her eyes speaks volumes as she rakes them over the riders crowding closer to Josilina. Her fist stays clenched for now, along with a tightening of jaw, then suddenly hisses when she feels her lifemate's anger lace through her. The glare sent the golrider's way is all she throws.

Leiventh> Insreth is still in the running with the rest of the pack, although the gold's sharp turn was unexpected, but easily countered and is on track, lightning streaked hide bringing a storm of wingstrokes as he avoids the other contenders and makes for the queen's glowy glowyness.

Josilina's attempt at catching the redfruit is clumsy and the fruit hits the floor with a dull, bruising thud. It's a few moments until she reacts, distracted by all going on above. In a moment's return to the here and now she gives the fruit a kick and it rolls awkwardly towards E'tyn. Ayara's glare she meets with a crooked, if uncharacteristic smirk.

Squish. As E'tyn attempts to be more intrepid in charting a path closer to Josilina, much like his dragon above reclaims lost ground in his chase of Lhiannonth, the hapless redfruit dies an untimely death beneath his boot. Soon, he might note the stickiness when he walks.

Leiventh> Kyreth shrieks as his attempt fails, the queen's twisting maneuvers putting him now alittle ways from his target. Anger not yet abated, he uses it to fuel back into the chase, diving down in hopes to reclaim his position near her side.

Leiventh> The call of her taunts cannot be ignored, and Leiventh is far from immune to Lhiannonth's challenges, the young Reachian bronze fuelled by the heady promise of her elusive form. Whirling eyes are fixated on the queen with steady intensity, as each beat of wings brings him closer and closer to her. The slight turn of her body to the left, where he approaches - pure luck - and his own downward turn to meet her - pure instinct - brings him within reach of the golden prize. Red-stained talons curl, whipcord tail flicking out to seek to entangle Lhiannonth's with his own, a flick of crimson wings daring to brush towards hers in an attempt to claim her.

Leiventh> Young wings tire, the citrine-smattered brilliance flagging as Lhiannonth continues to obsfucate and twist away from his determined flight. Niereth, after a while, seems only to be propelled forward by instinct rather than any true competition having used the entirety of his energy earlier on. Instinct turns his wings left. Instinct causes the spread of his wings to tip just so to catch a thermal, and instinct is what finally causes him to stretch that bit forward in an attempt to force Leiventh's flight to the illuminated queen away.

As another seeks and fails, R'hin's lips curl upwards, though perhaps less a smile and more a baring of teeth as the competition gets fierce. His brow is dampened with shared exertion, his shoulder pushing in a deliberate attempt to manoeuvre E'tyn out of the way, as if the battle is being fought in here as much as in the skies above.

Leiventh> And in the end it's the tail that does her in, green-specked catching and tangling with whipcord, and Lhiannonth and her glowy glowyness are pulled away from the nearby Niereth and the rest, thoroughly caught by Leiventh with only a brief rumble of protest - the principle of the thing, naturally.

Leiventh> And now, everything is as it should be, as Leiventh claims Lhiannonth as his own, crimson-draped wings snapping outwards to slow their paired descent. His low, bassy rumble of warning to those nearby quickly mutates into an almost inaudible croon, whipcord tail twining firmly with the High Reaches queen's.

Leiventh> Kyreth shrieks in absolute horror as his target is claimed away before he turns on a wingtip and heads back down to the bowl.

Leiventh> Niereth's attempts to foil Leiventh's capture fails, obviously, and his distress calls high into the Reaches skies. His shriek entwines with that of Kyreth, but it's not to the bowl he swings, but a quick dive to the ice cold depths of High Reaches' lake.

Leiventh> Kyreth wings down in the bowl, towards the western wall. Leiventh> Kyreth has left.

Leiventh> Niereth wings down in the bowl, towards the western wall. Leiventh> Niereth has left.

R'hin has little regard for the others present, a sharp exhale of breath marking the moment Leiventh's attempt proves all too successful. Need rises up in the fixed, possessive pale eyes of the young Reachian rider, pushing past the last of the obstacles between himself and Josilina.

When Niereth fails to lay claim to Lhiannonth, the shriek seems to sever whatever connection there was beyond the norm between rider and dragon. He's himself again, a split second bringing everything back to focus, including the outcome of the flight, and with dark eyes for R'hin, E'tyn turns on heel to stalk out towards his dragon.

E'tyn goes down the stone steps into the floor of the bowl. E'tyn has left.

M'hon rolls his eyes and stands, pausing to stretch a moment before heading off to meet his disappointed lifemate, "Finally! I thought this would never be over. C'mon E'tyn, let's go find some willing lasses elsewhere." Yeah he's a little crude, he's felling the effects of the flight never the less.

M'hon goes down the stone steps into the floor of the bowl. M'hon has left.

Ayana sags as her eyes widen at R'hin, the shock apparent as she shakes her head, throws a look at Josilina, and stalks out of the guest weyr.

Ayana walks down the stone steps into the floor of the bowl. Ayana has left.