The following is a log of roleplay on Threadfall MUSH, logged by Z'vind.
All references to the world and characters of Pern based on Anne McCaffrey's fiction are copyrightę 1967 by Anne McCaffrey, all rights reserved. The Dragonriders of Pern« is registered U.S. Patent and Trademark Office, by Anne McCaffrey and used here with permission.
Weyrling Barracks - Ista Weyr(#57RAJ$)
Smooth stone walls slope upward to form an almost perfectly domed ceiling, barren of decoration but lively nonetheless. It's a massive cavern, hollowed out with a few smaller protrusions that seem to imply various sections with various uses. The largest of these caverns the one furthest from the entrance must be the sleeping area, where there are nearly a hundred cots tucked beside rush-lined depressions of various sizes, all large enough to play host to a growing dragon. Adjacent to this is a lesser but still impressively large outlet with slate boards and various items with instructing purposes.
Smaller demi-caverns delve into the depths of the mountains, some used for storage and some for instruction and some for multiple purposes. Oil vats with rows of buckets, paddles, cloths, and rags hover about in one of these areas, the ground continually cleaned that little of the slippery substance clings to stone floors. Just beside this is a pile of what appears to be straps-in-the-making, a tangle of leather and buckles thrown over benches and hung from metal hooks in the walls. Despite the ordered chaos of the interior, there is a homespun quality to these barracks - an escape for those who are set here to learn and grow together.
Weyrlingmaster's Weyr Bowl
It is currently late at night on day 1 of the 5th month of Turn 199 of the 10th Interval.
Ordeal over, Z'vind and Kealath share space on the dragon's couch, human with a pair of straps he ponderously fingers, dragon with a smug expression on his brown muzzle. The rest of the barracks isn't stirring much besides the occasional early sleeper tossing and turning on his cot, along with assorted other squeaks of a tool turning on leather.
Stubby, short but stubbornly black hair sprouts scalp-close from generally clean-shaven features, boyishly tanned with a frail line of stubble to demarcate chin from cheek. His face is highly angular, jaw etched with sly lines of woe or laughter. Grey eyes and clipped chin straggle casually together with the rest of this youth's sturdy, slightly lanky form, long legs claiming a wide stride as an obscure slur marks alto voice.
His outfit appears smart, for its a uniform: jet-dark shorts underneath a bright gold tunic that matches his Istan Weyrling's knot exactly. The tunic is untucked, it's shimmering threads loose over a non-existent belly; leather boots cap his feet, and a knot's loop intrudes upon his shoulder, tangling a single cord of earthy brown.
He is 14 Turns, 8 months, 8 days old.
Kassandra and Didarath come back into the barracks, both dragon and dragonrider looking quite damp. Upon seeing Z'vind and Kealath awake and aware, she waves, and grins. "Hullo there, Z'vind, Kealath. How're you this evening?"
Statuesque, well-proportioned, with a face so full of character that mere beauty becomes superfluous. Thick amber-gold hair tumbles to mid-back when not confined in a tail or braid of some sort. Lean, athletic figure, with enough curve to display gender but not enough to be considered buxom, could be that of a runner or dancer of some sort. Brilliant cornflower-blue eyes, shaded by long sandy lashes, glitter at you from a face of smooth ivory porcelain. Pinky-mocha lips are quick to smile, and a hint of humor lingers around their corners. Her carriage is distinctly aristocratic, her demeanor refined and gentle--every inch the lady of nobility she was born and bred to be. She appears to be 16 Turns, 2 months, 12 days old.
Kassandra is clad in the uniform of a weyrling at Ista Weyr. Her black shorts are rather short indeed, showing off a pair of long, well-muscled legs. Said shorts extend about four inches beyond the hem of a fitted white short-sleeved tunic, laced up the front with matching white cords. The outfit is completed by a pair of low black wherhide ankle boots, turned down at the cuffs to show a softer wherhide lining. Her shoulder-length amber hair swings freely, brushing at the back of her neck.Looped around her neck is a slim gold chain, from which depends a small pendant of translucent green jade, carved artfully into the shape of a jumping shipfish, with a tiny black diamond chip set in each eye.
Pinned to the shoulder of Kassandra's outfit is a knot of orange and black, twined with blue--a blueriding weyrling at Ista Weyr.
On the contrary, Z'vind is completely dry, though the towel tossed on his cot attests to a history of wetness. "'Lo Kassandra," says he, lazily flicking grey eyes to her, the arm going to behind his head for cushioning. "Could be better, but I'm not complaining. And it's all Nimoth's fault."
Didarath lumbers up to his couch, and settles down in what is as close to a flop as is possible for dragonkind, eyes fixing on one of the weyrling greens. Kassandra rolls her eyes at her lifemate before raising an eyebrow at Z'vind's answer. "What makes you say that?"
Kassandra just glanced your way.
Z'vind pulls a shoulder back, then rotates it carefully: exercise. "It's nothing," he scowls at the gloom directly in front of the pair; glances back at the blue weyrling. "Kealath-- I don't understand why he has to be so /nice/ and stuff. He ganged up with Nimoth against me."
Kassandra raises -both- eyebrows at that one, and stifles a chuckle. "Nice? Nimoth's a born prankster, and if you ask Vesta, she'll list his pranks categorically...but what d'you mean by ganged up against you? That seems kinda odd."
"I was practising my swim," Z'vind ripostes, and the secret's out, but he barely cringes. "They were talking among themselves, and he got curious," he shoves at earthy shoulder with an elbow. "Does yours ever do that?" He shakes his head, gaze grey-blue across at her.
Kassandra ponders. "What d'you mean by curious? Didarath asks a lot of questions that he really shouldn't ask, but mostly he asks 'em of Morpheth rather than the other weyrling dragons. So what happened, and what does swimming have to do with anything?"
Z'vind hooks furs up to chest. "Wanted to know what a basket was, as I heard." A heartbeat's pause for scrutiny before he parries back with "what's with you -- Morpheth and Didarath, they are close? I don't recall Kealath being particularly fond of any particular weyrling."
Kassandra chuckles softly, a certain light in her eyes. "Very. They talk almost constantly. Most of the time it's cute. About a third of the time it causes Major Trouble." Yes, those are audible capital letters. "He has a tendency to spill things I'd rather he didn't tell, y'know?"
Z'vind curls a snicker. "--Things?" he prompts, "about you and him?" He points a digit at the gaping entrance; drops a droll laugh. Kealath, he just chooses to fall asleep just then.
Kassandra rolls her eyes. "You bet Kealath's straps. Anything else I probably wouldn't care about." She grins. "It's probably only gonna get worse now that Didarath here is starting to discover Girls." She jerks a thumb at the blue, who is watching yet another green with interest.
Z'vind glances at said straps. "No, I spent too much work on them to bet them away, not that I'd lose," he adds absently. "Girls?" Shudder. The look travels back to Kassandra, and he coils the furs into himself, clutches to them. "I can see it already. Dragon chases girls. Gives them dainties. Sleeps with 'em." It's nonchalant, almost.
Kassandra shudders delicately. "The longer he takes to actually start chasing 'em, the happier I'll be," she says honestly. "That's just one more thing on my platter that I really, really don't need."
Z'vind gives a lopsided smile. "You could always use a substitute. Or so I heard," he suggests, as lightly as before. "There's nothing to worry about. Although the male greenriders can be quite a platterfull."
Kassandra chuckles absently. "I dunno about substitutes. I'll worry about that when the time comes...and I'd rather deal with a male greenrider than a female. Something about that...well, they're just not my type."
Z'vind plays his arm on the cloth's edge; buries his chin into the mix momentarily. Voice comes up muffled: "Not your type. I'd say--mmfff--" He pries himself loose. "I hope it won't be a rehash of post-Hatching, that's all."
Kassandra raises an eyebrow in confusion, and tips her head to one side. "Post-Hatching? What happened post-Hatching? I think I might've missed this," she says, curiosity alive in her voice.
Z'vind tosses aside the furs suddenly, swiftly, and half-rises from the draconic depression, causing Kealath to rumble in his sleep. "--Sorry. Well, it's nothing that matters, anyway. I mean the burning," he averts his gaze, as the explanation bumbles out, "of losing all control. Hate that."
Kassandra arches both eyebrows right into her hairline at that one, and crosses over to the younger boy's cot, an expression of concern on her features. "Y'wanna talk about it?" she asks softly.
Dragon> Didarath and Kealath sense that Meriath temptingly offers. << Your lifemates and yourselves are kindly invited to the northern bowl for a manned flight exercise. Please have your straps on and make sure your rider has used the latrine if they haven't flown before >>
Z'vind starts to grimace, starts to grin, and pauses again, achieving balance on the rush-clad floor of his cotside. "I'm fine," he appears startled for a moment, glancing up at her. Normality returns in a banal nod, and he clicks heels together. "Ready for flight, Kassandra? I'll race you to it."
Kassandra grins, and darts to her cot long enough to scoop up Didarath's straps and rouse the blue with a thump to the shoulder. "I'll win," she points out with a grin. "You've gotta wake Kealath up first."
Kealath bounds to his paws and the towering elevation, from whence he looks on Zar -- the lad's expression melts by degrees into something a degree below his glazed rictus of a moment ago. "All right, Kea," and he rushes to the 'ling, putting on straps and all, and it's all for out.
You head out beneath the arched exit to arrive in the bowl.
Northern Bowl - Ista Weyr(#21RJa$)
Huddled into the narrower end of the bowl, separated by the jagged interjection of mountainous inlets from either side of the caldera, this area boasts one of the most breathtaking views throughout the Weyr. South, there lies the wall-encompassed bowl with the shadowed pockmarks of countless draconic habitations and the glow-illuminated interior of the lower caverns. The finger-like issuances of the long-since dormant Istan volcano shoot crooked and irregular spikes into the skyline, casting definite but oddly shaped shadows along the length of the bowl.
North, there lies the precipice at the edge of the bowl, a sharp but easy slope that trails down to the beach and all her environs. Glittering sea lies at the farthest reaches, enveloping the island in a cool, sapphire embrace as far as the eye can see. The weyrling barracks like to the southwest from here, their gaping entrance almost perfectly across from the large pool that drops off the sheerest side of the cliff to form a frothy-white waterfall. Adjacent to this pool but rimmed by a wooden fence are the feeding grounds where the distant shapes and sounds of herbdeasts filter across, echoing gently between the walls of the bowl.
Southern Bowl Feeding Grounds Waterfall Pool Weyrling Barracks Jungle Path
Kealath comes out from beneath the shadowy, arched entrance of the weyrling barracks.
Kassandra comes out from beneath the shadowy, arched
entrance of the weyrling barracks.
Didarath comes out from beneath the shadowy, arched entrance of the weyrling barracks.
Kassandra pads out of the barracks, straps in hand, and trailing in Didarath's wake. The blue isn't quite as enthusiastic as he has been in the past for this exercise, but is laden with a different sort of enthusiasm--apparently he wants to show off.
Jalani leans against Meriath, counting outloud. She quirks an eyebrow as the weyrlings appear. "Took you all long enough." She gazes at Kassandra, then winks. Looking directly at Z'vind, she asks. "So, I suppose you wouldn't be adverse to actually getting on that hunk of a lifemate of yours and go for a spin around the bowl?"
Kealath struts along proudly, trailing just enough to allow Didarath to catch up. He comes to a halt, Z'vind sliding up alongside. "Any time," Z'vind himself replies without requiring any extensive discussion. He salutes too, belatedly.
Kassandra salutes Jalani, grinning at the greenrider's wink, before going to work on the straps. With motions that speak of practice, she slings the wherhide straps over her lifemate's neck and tightens and buckles them in all the right places, tugging to make sure the fastenings are secure and no stitches have come undone due to the recent activity they've seen.
Jalani nods to Kassandra. "You and Didarath can go after Z'vind. Meriath and I will show you what to do. Z'vind, pay close attention, alright, and double check your straps. You will only go half way around the bowl, then land. You will NOT go very high. Is that clear?"
Z'vind shrugs a shoulder. "Understood," he mutters, and kicks at a stone that rattles away. He pats Kealath on the rump, then kneels to tuck a slit of leather into place. "I believe everything's snug so far."
Jalani walks up asking. "May I check his straps?"
Z'vind looks up, slightly shifty-eyed. "Go ahead, Assistant Weyrlingmaster."
Cymber has connected.
Jalani smiles up at Kealath. "This won't hurt, I promise, but you don't want your lifemate falling like a sack of tubers down to the bowl floor, now, do you?" She tugs -hard- against the straps in two or three places. Satisfied, she says. "I will go up, show you what to do, then when I land, you can take off"
Jalani steps up to Meriath's bent foreleg as the Green crouches low with a gently whirling eyes. Jalani swings up easily and settles between two neckridges.
Z'vind studies Jalani's mounting, and Meriath too. He turns his face into his sleeve, briefly, to gulp, then looks up to the pair. "Got it."
Kassandra grins at Z'vind, before grabbing Didarath's straps and swinging up to the blue's neck with only a slight bobble. She's getting the hang of this, see?
Kassandra climbs up Didarath's forearm and swings into her customary position on his back, favoring his shoulder with a loving pat.
Meriath rises up with out any hestitation, unfurling her lapis wings out against the moonlit sky. She and her rider seem to be one as they gently bank in a half curve around the bowl. The green slowly lifts her head, longingly crooning to the stars, before she reluctantly lands, pillow soft, on the other side of the bowl.
Cymber has been listening with all the intensity that she can muster. Genevrath's straps are checked for the twenty-fifth time.. her hands tugging and smoothing as her gaze drifts to and remains with Jalani and Meriath, not missing so much as a wings'stroke.
Z'vind watches, gaze intent on the pair so far up above. He'd leant back against the brown shoulder to watch, jaw agape in awed wonder. "Good one," he decides, and closes the distance to Kealath's back in one quick upward clamber.
Conclusive perfection is depicted in every mottled nuance of this divinely crafted brown dragon, his form a complete depiction of the verdancy of a newly born world. Raw earth drifts in darkened crevices across the landscape of his back, broad and deep with the bluish shadows of networking subterranean caves tinged only faintly with the stubbornly clinging fingers of finely dusted emerald lichen. Curving wingbones arch with finely honed precision to support the chaotic imagery of his nearly translucent wingsails, themselves animated to depict the fiery flow of amber-touched lava across the mahogany of virgin soil, rich tresses of curling bubbles that erupt into splattered droplets of illuminated gold. Trickles of these more livid hues creep along the sinuous line of his belly, slowly hardening into duskier hues of obsidian that flicker with mirror-like polish over the warm cinnamon of his heavily muscled hindquarters, a powerful compliment to the chaotic vortex of creation. Thick fronds of burnt sienna billow along his extremities, swirling as if caught on the first breeze of existence to envelop the elegant spade of his tail, the fierce curve of his talons, and the gentle slope of his muzzle in the warmth of a newborn embrace. The crest of the surf clings to his forelimbs, paling the jungle of silvery cedar where waves might lap against a seaward forest, the soft azure dappled with milky brown shadows of a thick canopy's web of overhanging branches.
Kealath is approximately 0 Turns, 8 months, 1 day, measuring 22.0 metres in length, with a wingspan of 33 metres.
You approach Kealath just as the crouches for you, one foreleg bent to allow you an easier mount.
** Still she must wait, though by now Genevrath's excitement is transmitting itself to her rider. The green beauty watches as Kealath makes himself ready, and tilts her wedge-shaped head to whuffle at Cymber, who still is watching.. eyes narrowed and intent. "Soon, beloved. Our turn will come," is lowly murmured as she rests her hand on her lifemate's shoulder.
** Jalani slips deftly down to the bent foreleg of Meriath, the Green lowering to a crouch and watching with gentle eyes as the she hops to the ground.
Now that he's actually there, Zar looks down -- and down -- at the vast expanse of ground below, then gazes resolutely upwards as his lifemate swings his head back and up in approximate trajectory. "We must-- must fly--" he can be heard to mutter. The brown dragon bends his haunches, then launches /them/ violently to the skies, the weyrling's head lolling back in the process. "Whoa!" A shout, and they lift off with a dark rumble, tracing a wobbly curve of the bowl's rim.
** Jalani calls back across the bowl. "Cymber, while you are waiting, double check Kassandra's straps and Kassandra, do the same for Cymber please? Good test for you both."
Dragon> Meriath bespoke Ista Weyr dragons with << Now land little one. You do well. >>
** Kassandra loosens the fighting straps and slides down Didarath's shoulder, landing lightly on the ground below.
** Kassandra nods, and salutes before sliding down Didarath's shoulder and crossing to Cymber with a grin. "Pull on 'em hard," she says with a wink before looking over Genevrath with a grin.
** A deft nod is aimed toward Jalani as Cymber moves around Genevrath's pensively waiting bulk, trailing her fingers over soft green hide before she comes into sight of Kassandra. "I really hope you don't find anything wrong," is shared as she passes, winking with a nod. Then it's over toward the waiting blue, to whom she offers her most charming smile before going to do just what his lifemate told her to do.
** Kealath flaps: once, thrice, before they locate their thermal and glide, Z'vind a small figure bent low over the monstrous back. Ground ahoy! -- Kealath brings his 'mate to a landing that's far from smooth, dusting a mighty cloud of midnight sand in their wake, metres from where the others are. Zar flops, pokes his head down shakily, fiercely. "We /did it/--"
** Jalani looks over at Z'vind and Kealath. "Shaky take off but the landing was quite good. You can go up again after the others have a turn. She calls out yet again. "Kassandra? If you are satisfied with your straps, mount and take off. Half a bowl, please, no more."
** "Look good to me, Kass. Look better than good." Cymber's call can be heard after Jalani speaks, voiced as the young lady steps away from Didarath and gifts him another smile.
** Kassandra salutes briskly, before giving Cymber a thumbs-up and a grin. Without further ado, she mounts again.
** Kassandra climbs up Didarath's forearm and swings into her customary position on his back, favoring his shoulder with a loving pat.
Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Kealath sears a blaze of lightning, bright across the group consciousness, awash with the taste of pumping ichor and blood's drumbeats. << Once. >>
Dragon> Kealath senses that Meriath warbles brightly. << You did very well Kealath. You first flight with your lifemate is always tense. >>
** Didarath makes a soft sound as he sucks in a massive breath. As soon as Kassandra is firmly in place and buckled in, both rider and dragon crouch, and Didarath takes off, powerful haunches sending him hurtling into the air. One flap...two...and Didarath does the half-bowl circuit with some ease, before backwinging to a careful landing. Kassandra, not nearly so jarred on this try than on some of her previous ones, grins cheerily.
Dragon> Kealath senses that Genevrath's excitement is a ripple-shimmer of gilt light across the whispering play of emerald and mossy leaves which subtly shade her thoughts. <<Soon, we too shall taste the wind. Well done.>>
Dragon> Meriath senses that Kealath colours his tone with a tinge of humility's tension. << But we could have done /better/. We shall next time. I promise. >>
** Belena comes out from beneath the shadowy, arched entrance of the weyrling barracks.
** Jalani grins. "Much, much better, Kealath. No neck jarring this time!" Raising her voice, she calls out. "Cymber, when you are strapped in, please, take off!"
Dragon> Genevrath senses that Kealath tunes your light into his prism's full glory, and from thence, into the volcano's core. Oceanic splashes form the backdrop, lapping joy. << We fly with the wind. Better than the wind. >>
** The green seems more at ease about all this than her rider, rumbling her eagerness as she leans down the instant Cymber's step bring her close, extending a forearm in the fashion of her elders. With a very deep breath, and a very solemn expression, the young woman takes hold and by dint of will and strength more than grace or elegance, manages to pull herself up and settle down. Almost forgetting.. she hastily straps herself into place.
** Cymber steps up to Genevrath's bent foreleg as the crouches low with a gently whirling eyes. Cymber swings up easily and settles between two neckridges.
** Aiareth comes out from beneath the shadowy, arched entrance of the weyrling barracks.
** Jalani calls out. 'Breathe Cymber and pay attention! I don't want to be picking up pieces of you off the bowl!"
"Maybe if I bend lower, hang on tighter--" Z'vind tilts back to shout at the casement air, his own straps a keen restraint on any unnecessary movement. The mighty have fallen, but not off Kealath -- the lad drops his own litany to grin at the next weyrling to launch. "Go, Cymber!" he hisses across.
** Jalani notices the shadowy figure of Belena and calls out. "Belena, get your straps and get your lifemate ready, if you want to be taking off with her for a short flight tonight." She raises her fist to Cymber in the tradition "take off" position.
** From Genevrath's neckridges, Cymber breathes.. listening to Jalani, because she's honestly forgotten to draw in air the instant she managed to climb up. Several moments does she compose herself before grabbing hold and nodding.. voicing something that is lost to all but a joyful Genevrath, who strides forward to a clear spot and crouches backward. Extended are emerald wings..and the timing is there as she kicks off and thrusts them downward launching both she, and her rider in truth, into the air. She doesn't wobble so much, she's been practicing, and smoothly makes the half-bowl circuit before zooming in for a landing.. that doesn't go quite so well. The green stumbles a little, nearly knocking her jarred lifemate from her back.. but rights herself quickly and looses a glorious bugle of triumph.
** Aiareth pads out from the weyrling barracks, eyes whirling excitedly as she watches her clutchmates in the air. She turns her neck only for a moment to prod her lifemate along. "Okay, okay, Aiareth, I'm coming I'm-" Belena stops at Jalani's hail, "Me? Oh, wait just a moment!" she cries and dashes back into the barracks and returns after a few short moments with her riding straps.
** Jalani quirks an eyebrow at that one. "Cymber, check your straps, you should be in tighter than that. You took off great, both of you but next time around, work on that landing?"
** Aiareth, once again, is carefully watching the other weyrling dragons, already practicing the motions in shadow.
** Jalani calls across to Belena, the night air carrying her voice across the bowl. "One you are satisfied with your straps, tell me and I will give you the go ahead to take off. You will soar at low altitude in a half circle around the bowl, ending up landing near me. Is that clear? Just a very short flight.
** Kealath cages his talons on the ground, eyes glow-bright from sockets in the night's depths. He arches his neck; lowers it to watch Aiareth, and there's a croon of proud proclamation.
Dragon> Kealath senses that Genevrath's triumph is echoed herein, magnified and cast back in a series of cascading ripples that pick up the force of wind-driven waves wrought liquid from argent and gold. Scattered are reposing shades of emerald and jade, broken beneath the glory. <<We -were- the wind!>>
** From Didarath's back, Kassandra remains astride Didarath, watching the others' flights quietly while tugging experimentally on her straps, and waiting for the cue to go again.
** Belena places the straps onto her lifemate, carefully checking them to make sure they are on correctly...oh, better tighten that there, "Too tight over here you say?" loosen that up a bit...there. Belena smiles and then turns to Jalani, "Okay, we're ready. Now what?"
** Jalani grins. "Mount up and take off! Make sure to strap yourself in. She knows what to do. Hold on tight and pay attention, you will be fine."
Dragon> Genevrath senses that Kealath mimicks the wind's rapid gusts, and fails to, but reflects your selfsame ripples. << You were the wind. Beautiful, Genevrath. But /we/ were the first. >> He's proud of that, is Kealath. Surges break from the depths, the mountain's very glory.
** From Genevrath's neckridges, Cymber regathers herself, shaken.. and pale, but eventually her smile returns as she leans forward and wraps her arms joyfully around whatever part of Genevrath she can reach. Windblown, she is as happy as she's been since the hatching, and her eyes glow as she grins to her fellows and adds a call of support to Belena. "You can do it, Bel."
** Belena looks with surprised green eyes at her lifemate, "You do?" Aiareth answers her with slightly mischievous eyes. Bel shakes her head, "My, my, I can't keep anything from you but this great knowledge that you seem to have is okay to keep from me?" But her tone is filled with humor. She moves to mount her little green.
** Belena climbs up to Aiareth's back.
Dragon> Meriath senses that Kealath threads, /treads/ liquid fire -- and wonders if he can try it again?
Dragon> Meriath bespoke Kealath with << After your clutchsis takes off. Be patient my little one. >>
Dragon> Kealath senses that Genevrath 's thoughts sings forth a supple song of joy, winding the thread of warmth around the soaring core of her being and refracting it in a scaling crescendo that breaks apart in a smashing display of colours and hues before easing down into some semblence of musky, shadowed composition. <<First, yes. But we shall fly faster than you when we have practiced.>> Teasing is that, a slinkiness in the thought that still bespeaks her joy.
Dragon> Aiareth senses that Kealath blazes crisply: << Fly well, little one. >> And belying it all, the threads of a swift, glowing stream, quite unlike /your/ mountain brook and it's rustles, yet equally o'er-swelling.
Dragon> Meriath senses that Kealath rustles his wings restlessly, but stays. Earthbound.
** From Aiareth's back, Belena shifts herself in the straps a bit and tightens her little form in. Bending over Aiareth's neckridge she asks, "Are you okay?" To which the green merely croons in calming comfort. Of course she's okay, silly red head.
** Jalani raises her fist yet again. Maybe Belena will see it this time. "Whenever you're ready.."
** Aiareth bends her knees, taking a few practice sweeps and then, with a gentle spring she lauches herself into the air. The pair waver a bit at first...not so easy with extra weight on you, is it now? Belena looks about as nervous as she can be, holding tight and trying desparately not to shut her eyes completely.
Dragon> Genevrath senses that Kealath watches the aerial display with soaring fascination, his own a single, intense thread. << Z'vind says that we shall be the best. I have always thought so. We shall /race/. >> He, too, seems happy in that thought; in the molten glow that breaks forth suddenly into sharp wildfire.
Dragon> Meriath bespoke Ista Weyr dragons with << Remind your lifemate to breathe and open her eyes Aiareth. >>
** Aiareth glides for a few shaky moments and then backwings, like in practice, and comes to the ground -slightly- harder than she did when she was flying alone. Both dragon and rider are a bit jostled by the landing but Belena's windswept hair and wide eyes clearly show that it was not as bad as she'd thought it would be. In fact, it was wonderful. "Oh, good job, Aia. You did well," she encourages, not perfect, but well.
Z'vind sometimes finds lethargy hard to effect, and idleness, and this is one of those times. He shifts on Kealath's back, scoots ahead to peer over the dragon's soaring shoulder. He shouts something, wind-lost. "Everyone okay?" he twists over to say, once Aiareth lands.
** Jalani grins. "Good one, you two. Keep your eyes open Belena it will help your lifemate." Looking at the weyrlings gathered round her, the greenrider continues."This time, a full circle around the bowl. Same altitude. Work on the areas I pointed out. Z'vind? You can go first, as soon as he lands, Kassandra take off, as soon as she lands, Cymber and as soon as Cymber is safe and sound on the ground, Belena! Is that clear?"
Dragon> Kealath senses that Genevrath pauses in the flow of intense feelings that reflect the pumping throb of her elation-fed heart. <<Yes. You were very handsome, very quick. I shall watch you more when you fly again. Will you beat the wind this time?>>
[Missed in the Spam. But the answer is, of course, Yes Yes Yes!]
** From Aiareth's back, Belena waves, "We're fine. A little tossed around, but fine." She rubs Aiareth's neck and, listening to Jalani's instructions, she nods, "Clear."
** Aiareth pads over and joins the lineup.
** From Genevrath's neckridges, Cymber nods.. she's just too excited to do much else.. though she has tightened her straps at Jalani's suggestion. She flashes a grin of support and encouragement to Z'vind first, lifting a hand as his turn comes first.
** From Didarath's back, Kassandra nods, and tugs straps one more time before watching for Z'vind's second attempt.
Z'vind sets his hands to the flight straps, and grins, boot against Kealath's shoulder. "Hear that, Kealath? We get to fly again--" The brown has heard of course, and bunches his muscles for a tight leap upwards. He flies! wingsails arching wide to embrace the bowl's contours within wingspan's grasp. Zar gets hit by the breeze's coolness, and swung back against the dragon's back, but hangs on by dint of straps, and they circle the bowl. Umber wings slicing the air, they backwing--too hard--to a sudden landing that sends Zar's head forward, into the broad neck. His fist rises, though, pumps the air. "Done!"
** Jalani gulps, looking a bit pale at Z'vind's caper. "Good thing those straps are tight and well sewn. Now you know why we are so fussy on them. You didn't get a bloody nose did ya?" She raises her fist for Kassandra to take off.
** Didarath crouches down, and as soon as Kealath touches down in the bowl again, he springs skyward, wings sweeping to push him further into the air. The blue executes the requisite three wingbeats with a growing ease and confidence, and makes the arc of the bowl neatly, backwinging to a graceful landing as his rider cheers out loud. "That was great, Dar!"
** Aiareth bugles a note of congratulations to Kealath while Belena looks with concern and waits for the answer to Jalani's question.
** Jalani grins at Didarath. "Much much better! Good landing." She chuckles as she checks the field, notices all is clear and gives Cymber the same gesture.
** Kealath turns his snout to brush Z'vind's hair as the lad mutters something, then raises his voice, "not a problem!" He gives a vague thumbs-up, then leans back to rub his nose. "Just a bruise, no more."
** Jalani hmms. "Well, the pair of you, try not to be so cocky on those landings. Soft knees, Kealath and keep your head up, Z'vind."
** From Genevrath's neckridges, Cymber's waited her turn, securing herself in place.. stroking her lifemate's neck and murmuring a constant litany that balances between praise and consternation. The green croons praise to her fellows and waits until Didarath has landed, and Jalani has signalled, to poise her lithe body and thrust off into the air again. Graceful wings extend and thrust, downdrafting air as she leaps and takes to the currents. Graceful is she above, teasing the wind with her tail as she swoops upward and arcs deftly about the bowl. Her problem are landings.. though this one is noticeably better as she backwings and lands far more gently than at first. No stumbling this time, just a single, short hop.
** Jalani nods. "Good clean flight, Genevrath and your landings are improving. We will work on them this month, don't you worry, you will be landing on a mark in no time flat." A nod of approval goes Cymber's way as she gestures to Belena to take off when ready.
Z'vind murmurs, "good flight" to no one in particular.
** Aiareth moves into position, replacing Genevrath. Belena holds on tightly to the straps and reminds herself, "Keep your eyes open, keep your eyes open." She gives a silent okay to her lifemate. Slowly bending her knees, taking the ritual practice bounces, Aiareth gently springs into the air, slightly easier this time both because of her own small frame and that of her riders and also because this is her second try. Wings sailing along, catching the wind, Aia begins to feel some of the ease of movement that comes with being so small...in fact, she gets a bit caught up in it as she comes around the bowl. It is a strong command by Belena that reminds her to backwing and land. The little green immediately complies but, as a result, the landing is a bit rushed and she stumbles slightly. Belena makes a face at the landing, "Who said you could keep going? I certainly didn't," she reprimands.
** From Genevrath's neckridges, Approval brings the widest smile that the woman possesses, Cymber grins at Jalani, and then lifts both hands triumphantly over her own head before proceeding to stroke and pat and admire her preening lifemate. Her eyes eventually dart to the others, filled with an approval she signals with a wave to each. But it's back to Belena and Aiareth that she eventually turns hr attention, flashing them a grin at flight's finale.
** Jalani listens to Belena's scolding with quiet approval. "You got to keep greens toeing the line, so to speak. You took control admirably."
** From Aiareth's back, Belena nods her head, "I've been practicing. Ever since the, you know, k-i-s-s-i-n-g incident," she spells.
** Jalani calls out. "Dismount, check your dragons for any rubbing of the straps against their hide, you can't tell the stress until you actually ride. Then you are dismissed. Your dragons might be a bit peckish if they didn't eat earlier. They are free to try to catch something live, if they want from the feeding grounds. Meriath can give a demonstration."
** Jalani grins at Belena's remark."Good and even better."
** Kassandra loosens the fighting straps and slides down Didarath's shoulder, landing lightly on the ground below.
** Kassandra slides to the ground, and de-strapifies Didarath quickly, running her hands over him carefully to check for chafing.
** Kealath is distracted by talk of feeding, and pauses, looming bulk lowering to deposit his weyrling on the ground.
Deftly, you lower yourself to Kealath's bent foreleg, pausing a moment as your lifemate crouches to allow you easier access to the ground.
From Genevrath's neckridges, Cymber doesn't much seem to want to dismount, but she does.. lingering atop Genevrath's neck for as long as she can before stealing one last hug and sliding down to the earth once again.
Cymber slips deftly down to the bent foreleg of Genevrath,
the lowering to a crouch and watching with gentle eyes as the she hops to the ground.
Cymber has arrived.
From Aiareth's back, Belena rubs Aiareth quickly and then
loosens the straps and slides down.
Belena climbs down from Aiareth's back.
Meriath warbles. Late night snack? Wonderful! Barely waiting for her lifemate to remove her straps, the green heads over to the feeding grounds, intent on some night hunting.
Jalani heads beyond the fence into the pen of the feeding
From the feeding grounds, Jalani comes from the bowl on the other side of the fence.
Z'vind ducks under a trailing 'sail to finger Kealath's straps. "Any pain there?" he checks, then shakes his head, emerging from beneath the brown's stomach. "He's hungry. So am I, actually."
Genevrath's appetite has also been roused by the flight that's left her shimmering hide almost glowing. She rumbles before dipping her head to nudge very gently at Cymber, whose in the process of checking the green's hide for chafing. "He's not the only one," she drolly adds, looking at Z'vind.
Kassandra chuckles idly, and loops the straps carefully over her arm. "Didarath already hunted earlier..." She pulls a face at the memory of the mess he made doing it. "We'll go back to the barracks. Enjoy yourselves."
From the feeding grounds, Jalani :nods to Kassandra, "Then take care." She asks the rest. "Anyone else whose dragons might be interested in trying?"
Belena takes the straps off of Aiareth and carefully she checks for any chafing on her lifemate's forest green skin. All set and she turns to the others. I'm not hungry myself but Aiareth certainly is. She gives the dragon in question a good rub. "Go on then, eat."
Kheri heads over from the southern end of the bowl.
Kassandra waves at everyone in the bowl before heading into
the barracks in Didarath's wake.
Didarath heads in beneath the wide archway to disappear into the Weyrling Barracks.
Kassandra heads in beneath the wide archway to disappear into the Weyrling Barracks.
Cymber lifts a hand with a, "Later, Kass," then finishes tugging off the last of her lifemate's straps. Seemingly unphased by any stress that might have resulted from their first flight together, Genevrath extends her wings to their fullest, shivering their seafoam-flecked tips before turning to head off toward the place where the snacks graze, all unsuspecting.
Genevrath heads beyond the fence into the pen of the
From the feeding grounds, Genevrath comes from the bowl on the other side of the fence.
Cymber heads beyond the fence into the pen of the feeding
From the feeding grounds, Cymber comes from the bowl on the other side of the fence.
You beyond the fenced pen and into the feeding grounds.
Feeding Grounds - Ista Weyr(#63RJ$)
Enclosed by a high, multi-barred wooden fence, this is a massive meadow that houses all manner of short-haired herdbeasts. Wherries run at leisure through the grassy environs, their shrill calls echoing with high-pitched reverberation off the walls of the bowl. Herdbeasts add a lower, bellowing note to the cacophony of sounds, their deeper calls rising and falling at random across the green plain.
Built so that Northwestern edge is rimmed by the waterfall's pool, there is always a small cluster of animals milling about there, drinking from the clear water or nibbling at the fresher grasses that grow nearby. Shade comes from the bowl walls, for there are no trees to dot this expanse of land. Smaller pens have been sectioned off for the Weyr's runners, each of these pens with access to the stables and the pool alike. The stables stands in the southwestern most corner, a fence to keep the animals away from it and a wide doorway leading within.
Stables Bowl Waterfall Pool
Kheri comes from the bowl on the other side of the fence.
Kealath has arrived.
Still maintaining somewhat of an odd walk, even though the distended stomach is no longer there, Kheri slowly, and carefully, makes her way into the area, glancing over her shoulder. Grumbling underbeath, "Oh hurry up, why don't you? I wanna see some blood'n stuff.." Yeah, so descriptive is Ker.
Meriath comes from the bowl on the other side of the fence.
Kealath -- and Z'vind -- swagger in, looking more pleased with themselves than is their wont, but with ragged edges to their bearing and a droop to the brown's tail. Perspiration glints off Zar's hair as he sweeps its coarseness back into his scalp, stretching his arms. "Ahhh," says he, "and there are the herds."
Dragon> Genevrath senses that Kealath basks contentedly in your light, sharing the shade of his bulk. Mid-lunge, he wonders: << Which of these do you prefer? >>
Meriath rips into the entrails, after satisfying her thirst. Ah, now the appetizer! With a little excited trill she lowers her maw to feast.
"Who can know between dragon and man, Cymber--" Z'vind posits in return, his own hand splayed as if to take even as Kealath does. He follows the green weyrling's passage to her place, attention already elsewhere.
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