Greet The Dawn With a Breath of Fire (Flight)

[shouriko]

It had been well known that Kyrieth's ochre hide was becoming seemingly more pale, more bright, more... shiny. The way it glittered in the early morning light this dawn was just a little more splendid than most. Actually, it was far too splendid. She had not been oiled the day before and she had been in the direct line of the very first rays of sunlight, yet still she was a beacon in the dim gray. Kyrieth's eyes had been a mix of blue and green, the colors of content and calm, but steadily there was a new mix of colors. It was first a quick splash of red, as if she was suddenly hungry, but there was also some orange. Slowly her sharp gaze intensified and she looked firmly in the direction of the Weyrbowl from her ledge. Her eyes were full of red and orange, anger and hunger and, perhaps the most notable for this morning, lust.

She glided from her perch and in the blink of an eye had a dozing wherry beneath the great bulk of her body. It didn't even have the chance to emit a death cry. Kyrieth's maw was soaked in the deep, dark red of wherry blood and she sucked at the creature with a new kind of desperation. She tore at the neck, hunger rising in importance and was aiming to eat to satiate it.

No! Kaelu's mind command was strong and insistent. She was sitting up in bed, a loose tunic hanging over one shoulder, her black hair a little tangled. Kyrieth! You musn't eat! This is your flight! Your flight! You've wanted this for so long! She scrambled from beneath her hides, eyes wide despite the sleep that remained there. Her tight leggings were cooling already in the cold morning air. Bleed only, you'll fly longer! Just bleed! Don't ruin what you've waited for! What we've waited for!

Kyrieth snarled, the voice of reason no longer came from her, but from her Kaelu. She was hungry, but deep down she felt the strong will of the rider and the sense in the words. She lept upon a wherry that was the closest, only now awakening to her beginning onslaught. This time it was able to squawk a warning to the others, but it would matter not. She buried her teeth in the feathered neck and sucked. AH! The warmth of the blood felt so good as it was swallowed, even that which dripped down her beautiful golden neck was luxurious. But two was not enough for her. She pounced upon another wherry, older and slower than the rest to rouse and get away. He was hers and she made it so by devouring every last drop she could get out of his, it was like leaving an empty husk behind.

Kyrieth, please fly well, please. For the Weyr. They are expecting so much of us! Kaelu tried to hold to her mind, but most of her strength went towards controlling the gold's urge to feed. Soon she would have no sense of self and she would think herself just as Kyrieth, Kaelu would not even exist until likely late in the night when both the flight was over and she had slept off the effects of it. For now, she just wanted to make sure that Kyrieth remembered that this was important not just to them, but to everyone.

The lust was taking over the hunger now. Kyrieth let out a loud, long, echoing bellow of a roar, louder than any she had ever previously emitted. She looked for a fourth wherry and found a young female, this one was hers as well. She would take the lifeblood from her and join it with her own and then call the sky. Kyrieth was so different now, a different animal altogether, even beyond words her animal instinct seemed to overrun her intelligence to speak.

[stolenhart]

You Can NPC this flight, but if your character wins they will be the New Weyrleader so a profile will need to be written

He leaned against the wall of his weyr's ledge, staring out at the grey tinged sky of the bowl itself. Even from this distance he could just make out the sounds of the Weyr waking up. The call of the drudges to their birds or bovines, the sounds of wood being split for a fire, and other noises of feed being put out. All very home-like, it brought to his mind memories of Ruatha. He always got up early there, there was always so much to do and never enough time to do it. In the Weyr there were often days where he had nothing to do, then he would think he was going crazy. On the hold there was always something to do, even if it was just weeding or taking care of an animal.

He pulled out of his silent reflection, turning his head to pinpoint a new sound in the pre-dawn morning. "Xyriath, Good Morning", the bronze's nose touched his rider gently. Morning mine. Contemplating the rising sun?, the bronze asked, stepping onto the ledge. He sighed happily at the quickly warming air, stretching himself in all his glory. The sun rippled over his oiled hide like a vein of gold struck with a light. A bronze dragon in shape was truly a sight to see.

"Just wasting a few moments of time", the sentence dribbled off as the explosion that was Kyrieth rocketed out of her Weyr and shot across the bowl. Rider and dragon watched in a state of confused knowing as the gold killed one wherry after another, tossing sanguinated carcasses aside. V'las jumped when Xyrieth's brassy roar cut across the once silent morning, proclaiming his right to chase and his intent to capture the golden queen. V'las watched the muscles quiver along Xyrieth's ridges as he crouched waiting for the moment the gold would fly, talons gouging out grooves in what had once been a nearly flat ledge. "Good luck", V'las whispered to his dragon, ducking back inside to find a shirt.

Suffice it to say he'd never participated in a gold flight before. Whistwyth was the only gold he'd ever known and both rider and dragon belonged firmly to J'kul. And not only was this his first gold flight but it was also the Weyrleadership flight. Only yesterday Delia had announced her intention to step aside when Kyrieth rose, though she probably didn't expect it to be so soon. Still one did not try to predict dragons, those that did so were often proven wrong. A shirt found, he headed for the lower level that was given over to the queens of the Weyr.

He found J'kul in the corridor, a somewhat amused expression on his face. "Whistwyth and Delia have gone to Benden for the day, I am following after", he looked about wistfully, "I just wanted to make sure it started well. Good Luck", he gave his grandson a hug, an action that gave V'las many dark looks from his fellow riders. Squaring his shoulders, V'las entered Kaelu's weyr, eyes adjusting to the darkness as he searched for her.

}I am here{, he joined with his dragon, finding the bond easier now than it had ever been before. There was a moment of surprise from Xyriath, as if the dragon had found something unexpected in his rider's mind, before the outpouring of lust began to conquer all. Together we will win this challenge, another roar shook the Weyr to it's core and V'las knew it was his own bronze that made the noise.

[lucius]

Mornings.

M'tias had a schedule that he liked to keep to in hopes he would one day become Wingleader and would be seen for his "true worth". It was simple: get up early, train ass off, whine at Yeskith, eat self into a coma, and then force self to do things to make himself seem productive. It didn't work yet, and the blue and green riders of his wings laughed as he tried to make something work.

It didn't, of course. While Yeskith was sheer power and size, the massive bronze creature that itsy bitsy little M'tias didn't deserve, M'tias was not the prime pick of bronze rider. He did more whining and bragging that doing, and he looked down not only upon chromatics but other bronze riders and even gold riders. That sort of arrogance, unbiased "everyone is beneath me" arrogance, was not as accepted as the metallic-first mentality.

But it would seem that today, the gold rose. Normally the rising of dragons didn't affect Yeskith, as the dragon was remarkably asexual and could watch with a nonchalant scowl as three greens rose at once. This time was different, however. There would be a decent shot at Weyrleader. That was power, and he liked that, yes he did.

M'tias was making his rounds about the Weyr, feet hitting the ground hard. And then the gold flew down, hide bright as damn. That alone was his signal.

Beautiful. Yeskith's voice was deep and strong, and today was not as loud and commanding. His comment was more of a note to the chase ahead than the gold herself; Yeskith was a dragon without passion for matters other than dealing his fair share of blood. Such a dragon could make or break a Weyr, and the question remained: do we need a fighter or a negotiator?

M'tias himself stopped. He was covered in sweat though not sore, and it didn't take long for him to figure out where the queen rider would be. "Can't rape an innocent girl, now can we?" he mused, chuckling under his break.

Imagine what a stain that would be, said the bronze airily. Do keep in mind that I plan on winning. None will outfly me. I am the best. There is no argument.

Overconfidence breeds disappointment.

Oh, I'm not being overconfident, I'm being honest. The bronze's tone became snide. Tell me you disagree, M'tias. Tell me.

M'tias did not answer; he believed Yeskith was as marvelous as he was, regardless of the opinions of others or whatever the truth may be. He made his way up the slope to where the other riders were meeting. He was three inches shorter than the Weyrwoman, baby-faced, and delicate-looking. There was strength in those muscles, but he was so small that he was often overlooked. He was not what you would expect from a bronze rider: the tall, strong-shouldered figure had always eluded him.

It had not escaped Yeskith. The bronze, light in coloration and almost golden in hue, sprung from his ledge, where he had been watching with an amused detachment as Kyrieth blooded wherries. He landed with a pat, blooding as neatly as he could. But he lost himself after the first one and nearly tore others apart.

Blood only, and no more than you need. The bronze fought, wanting to devour the entire stock like he always did while hunting. M'tias had to strain to control Yeskith, and finally he won. The bronze blooded until he was nearly full. And then he turned on the gold with a new light, one that was anything but condescension.

There was a reason he did not chase: it was because he was impossible to control. If that gold didn't get herself in the air soon, he would take her on the ground, breaking her wings if he had to. Yeskith snarled, pressing to absorb his rider's consciousness. Not yet, M'tias mouthed the words, already showing intense strain from keeping the mighty Yeskith under control. It would break soon, he knew it.

Yeskith drew back his wings, teeth bared as he managed to keep himself back, away from the gold. He would get her soon, he would chase her across the sky with dogged efforts and then catch her, for that was what was expected. But he did not want to. He, Yeskith, was superior and should not have to take such trials from a silly gold.

When I have caught her, snarled Yeskith to his rider, the Weyr will be mine to do as I please. He pulled his lips up higher in an insane draconic grin. Then he turned to the queen. May the wind guide your wings, dearest Kyrieth. To M'tias, She'll need it.



((oh it has been too long since i have used these two D:. thus, mammoth post.))

[icefire]

NPC
Da'im and brown Morth

A massive large brown form stirred from his fitfully rest. His darker brown muzzle rose into the air as if he were reluctant to get up. He stretched his length like that of a cat. A large yawn came from the brown's maw as he suddenly found why he was awake. His claws scratched his bed making gouge marks as he rose up to his full height. He was a surprise to many being that his build was like that of a smallish like bronze. Though his hide was clearly that of a regular brown with darker brown socks and a muzzle to show his true ranking. He stretched his sails are far as they could go in the small area that he claimed as his.

He stalked over to the ledge and looked out with blueish-violet eyes to see who was rising. He hummed with pleasure. "Da'imMine get up and dressed now!" he demanded of his rider. "I chase today" he hissed to his rider to make him move.

Da'im moaned at the first order from his dragon and put the pillow over his head "No." was his sluggish reply to his brown. When the word chase came into his head he bolted up into the sitting position knocking the pillow that had been on his face to the floor. "Who is it Morth?" He asked.

He hurried to put on a white tunic that came past his waist and brown pants on. He grabbed his boots and jammed his feet into them while he hopped over to his dragon. As soon as he had them completely on he jumped onto his brown with practiced ease.

"The beautiful Kyrieth rises"A roar was ensued by the great brown who now dove to the pens. his rider barely able to hang on. He landed beside the pens just long enough for his rider to dismount before pushing up and attacking a herdbeast and cleanly snapping it's spine in half.

Da'im stood there for a moment to make sure the Morth blooded the kill. "Blood only my dear Morth blood only we play for keeps" he said gently but firmly to his brown. A snarl was the reply before the command was obeyed. The rider turned and went to find Kyrieth's rider.

Morth had proceeded to blood three herdbeasts before letting an ear aching roar that could be heard for a couple of miles around. His eyes now had a tint of red added to the violet that was starting to rule his body. He crouched on the ground as if awaiting his prey to move. "I will chase thy beautiful self Kyrieth" He said with a purr to the gold. "May you fly straight and true and may you choose only the best of us." His eyes completely on her.

[shouriko]

If Kyrieth's mind was not so blinded by lust and covered in blood, she'd answer the voices of her suitors. Each and every word directed at her she normally would have responded to politely and happily, but not this time. This time she was so full of animosity, so ruled by her inner animal, that her mind had the not the strength to overcome it. Words were silly, feeble things to her now. Even feelings, no matter what they were or what they meant, broke into a thousand tiny pieces with just a poisoned glare. Kyrieth could feel their eyes, their hunger, their love for her, how they wanted her, but they could not have her! Not all of them, only one and even then, he could not have her yet!

She hissed and snarled and spat at them, bronze and brown alike, unprejudiced in their color and size. Kyrieth had normally judged them all and their riders, something Kaelu chided her for. This time, she held true to her rider's words. It did not matter to her what they looked like, it was all a blue in the colors of red and orange.

In a fury and with a savage chortle her massive musculature bulged and she sprung high into the air. Her wings opened up and her sail unfurled all in a split-second moment and like only a rising gold could, she was gone leaving the carcasses of drained dry wherries and a dust cloud. All she could hear was the echoing of her cry, the whizzing of air past her ear holes, and the steady fwip of her wings as it cut through the air. With the sun rising and warming the earth, new, heady and strong thermals were rising and she had hit one perfectly. It carried her high, straight up into the lower regions of wispy white clouds and she pulled herself even once there.

It was so quiet, so peaceful, and it seemed as if she were not soaring at breakneck speed, weaving left and right without pattern across the Northern sky. Kyrieth had never flown so fast, but it felt good and she cared not for her pursuers. Let them come. Let them try to claim her. She belonged to no one but herself and her Kaelu and who had wanted them before? No one had wanted Kaelu because she was too strong of will and too plain in looks and as for herself... everyone wanted her because she was so pretty and only Kaelu saw her for her true self. Could they see that? Did it even matter?

Everything was covered in red, she would strike out viciously if approached too quickly, too soon, by a male. She would not hesitate to harm even when she was of sound mind she would worry over such damage. Now, she was worse than a feline, worse than a wild Wher. Now she was a ravaging hormonal beast and there was nothing that could stop her, nothing that could hold her back, not even Kaelu's great will. In this moment as the air whizzed by her, Kaelu was there with her and was no longer human, she was a dragon, she was Kyrieth.

In fact, Kaelu was clinging to a chair tightly, her short nails digging into the wood. Due to the looseness of her sleeping tunic, it still hung over one strong, bony shoulder. Her green eyes of pine forest green glared feverishly at the men who had gathered in her Weyr. She'd not hesitate to give them a taste of her knuckles if they dared try to touch her.

[lucius]

M'tias actually had to force Yeskith down, because the bronze was ready to go long before her wings even spread. He snarled, wondering how long it would take to bring her down--catch her Yeski, catch her--Whichever. And then she moved. Yeskith shifted, lowered, and then sprung. Into the air, after the gold. But where was the strength?

M'tias kept himself at bay for a moment, fighting the urge to just submit. But he had to make sure Yeskith was in the air first before--there it was, the surrender, it was gone and he could feel the air around him. Yeskith's body was power, pure power, a machine designed for motion. Though their chasing was few and far between, M'tias knew that body. They became one in the air, a single monster designed for only one thing: destroy.

He didn't come too close yet. Yeskith was powerful, but a gold was a decent match, perhaps even more than a match. He would not move now, not while she could fight back. Acrobatics were lost; the two or three greens he had chased had seen him barrel-roll and circle, but now there was a guile that was... beyond unusual for Yeskith, to be honest. He approached it as he would dragon combat, taking the higher route and circling, where he would wait until she weakened or another attempted to pin her. Wingfingers spread and membranes beat as he inhaled. There was blood in his nose and that pushed him forward, screeching as he did so. What was the goal again?

Oh, yes, the gold. There she was, over there. He was following after. There was no adoration, no longing, no devotion. He wanted only to claim the power, to win this prize and say it was his. Pretty? Lots of things were pretty, but Yeskith hardly considered her beautiful. She could have had two heads, each one ugly as butt, and yet he would have chased if it meant the Weyrleader position.

M'tias, of course, was there, though he was mostly only a side to Yeskith's power. The bronze was strong, too much for M'tias, and that was a known fact. The bronze dived only enough to keep the wind in his wings and M'tias responded with a gasp and a cry, not sure what was happening or what he was thinking. He forgot how to swallow, and began to foam at the mouth until the briefest moment of clarity had him wipe his lips with his sleeve. This elation, this oneness... Yeskith had never taken over him like this; this madness...

catch her catch her i will you know i will

...who are you?

[stolenhart]

Yeskith. The name burned in Xyriath/V'las' thoughts, leaving a mark like the taste of burned bread in the back of their throats. The being they had become knew Yeskith's abilities, his tencity for violence and his determination to dominate. For the man it was the knowledge that M'tias was not the best suited for Weyrleader, other more worthy candidates chased Kyrieth. Afterall the man could not even control his own dragon. For the dragon it was the need, the drive to prove himself better than the one dragon in the whole Weyr he considered his equal and some days his superior in battle. And Xyriath would prove today just where Yeskith belonged his thoughts.

Xyriath watched the golden queen launch herself into the air, wings spreading on teh wind as she found and attained a thermal. It was his inexperience in such a flight that had left him unprepared for the quick leap into the air, but he adapted quickly and found himself joining the other's as the sun finally began to show itself. With the sun's appearance thermals began to appear as the rocks of the Weyr warmed up and pushed the ever persent air upwards. He could just out her golden shape in front of the wide-ranging pack of male dragons, he could the steady thump of wings colliding with air, the growls, grunts and roars from dragons fighting for position and air.

Using the draft created by the others, and the thermals that pushed him higher, he shot forward and rolled upwards finding himself just under and behind Yeskith. That bronze was not the only one who could strategize. Xyriath settled in just behind the more vicious bronze, using his draft to speed him along, saving vital ounces of stramina for the flight's final push.

The bronze was not just fighting for a chance to father a clutch of eggs, he was fighting for his rider. The two of them were joined as one, and just this once it was deeper than ever, every thought V'las had ever had was shared between the two of them. Xyriath could see into the corners of his rider's soul and the knowledge he found there gave him heart to win this contest. It will come to pass, the bronze assured his rider. They wanted this so much, so badly and it would be their's. It was their birthright afterall.

[Femisis]

It was still early when they woke, more out of habit than necessity. There hadn’t been any Weyrlings in a while even if they were still only assistants, but damn good ones, though. Aeyth had gotten up and gone to snatch a buck from the pen while he bathed and got dressed, returning just as his got his klah and sweetrolls for breakfast. The Bronze curled up on the ledge and positioned his foreleg to allow His to sit against it while he ate, watching the sun rise. “It’s a nice morning, isn’t it?” F’rir commented with a full mouth as he chewed contemplatively on a roll.

Maybe it would be if I could understand what you are saying. Aeyth commented, nudging his rider with his nose before resuming his sentry watch over the bowl.

Fen snorted in indignation, causing him to choke on part of his breakfast. It was a good five minutes of coughing and choking before he could speak again, and when he could, he turned and glared at his dragon. “Are you trying to kill me or something?” He whined.

Of course not. The Bronze replied offhandedly with a flick of his tail. Though maybe you will not talk with food in your mouth next time. He suggested, eyes scanning the bowl. It seemed quiet for now, but something was off. Something was going to happen, but he couldn’t quite place it, at least not right away.

“Kyrieth looks lovely today.” Fen commented casually as he watched the Queen head for the pens.

That's because she Rises. Aeyth informed His solemnly as he watched her blood her kill as the males gathered.

“Really?!” Fen gasped, looking between his dragon and the Queen in shock. “Aren’t you gonna chase her?” He’d never been one to obsess over becoming Weyrleader, but he liked Kaelu well enough, and it was his duty as a Bronzerider to chase, to help the Weyr in any way he could. Right?

Aeyth nodded. My thoughts exactally. He stood the moment His had moved away and leapt into the air after the Gold and her other suitors, leaving His to find Kaelu. It was his duty to chase, and to win, to do everything he could to keep the Weyr intact. It had nothing to do with his personal needs, though as much as he tried to deny it, Kyrieth was lovely. He hit the pens first, only blooding two animals before he was in the air once more. He was still full from his breakfast, though he hadn't eaten much and was confident that the meat in his belly wouldn't slow him down. Fly long and far, great Queen, and may only the best be chosen. He called to her, wings beating as he soared after the golden hide.

[shouriko]

The cool wind felt good, the thermals made the flying easy, everything was perfect even despite the red she saw, yet there was a flaw. Kyrieth didn't need to look anywhere to know full well how close her pursuers were and how many there were. There were some real contenders, as to who they really were, she was hardly aware, all she could sense was their strength, their determination, and their raw desire. It made her furious to know that she could not have this sky, but nothing enraged her like the young bronze that was flying so close, too close, to her right now. In a sudden movement, one almost too fast and agile for a dragon of her size, she barrel-rolled headlong into the bronze and raked her talons into his back. With that, she pushed off of him and launched herself off to the right and she plummeted towards the ground.

In the Weyr, Kaelu's hard-knuckle fist had struck out at a man about her age square across the jaw. She threw so much of herself into it, that after connecting with him, not only did he fall back, so did she. Kaelu was very nimble though and she retreated from the chair she had been at and went to the chest at the base of her bed. Her green eyes were full of anger and she glared without regret at the others in warning. Had she been herself, she'd have flung herself into apologies, but as she was Kyrieth now and not Kaelu, she'd have to wait until later to do so.

That would show him and be a warning to all the others to maintain their distance. Kyrieth was far from tired, she was strong and quite capable and with the sun up, the thermals were rising more than ever. She opened her wings again and in a sharp parabolic path she was catapalted back high into the sky. She whirled and twirled, lending to herself more speed before she leveled out again. It seemed she had lost some, mostly smaller browns, younger and much older dragons. Good, she had weeded out many of the less worthy.

No dragon could touch her yet and she would not allow them if they did. She bellowed out a deep, throaty roar declaring her freedom still. Kyrieth was still very much an unchained beast and the blood from the wherries fueled her still. There was still much of a flight left to go. She would test them all. She would weigh and measure each and every single competitor and only the one who could equal her strength and animosity could be found the victor. All the rest would simply remain in wanting of her and that was good. She could not be shared. Kyrieth was above all that like she was above the ground itself. Here the redness of her sights did not hurt and so long as they kept their distance, no one else would.

[lucius]

Oh, was that an ounce of respect that just appeared?

It was minuscule, but considerably more than what he gave anyone else. Yeskith was an arrogant monster; he saw flights as more of a challenge for the golds. When she struck the bronze, Yeskith actually bothered to acknowledge her as a creature and not just a prize. The smug contempt lingered, though it would never truly fade. Yeskith even had some degree of dislike for his rider, and the theory went that Yeskith chose M'tias so that he could mold the rider into his personal slave. Why else would he chose a rider that sniveled and cried on the sands?

Up she went, and for a moment he thought she was done. But no, she leveled herself out. Flying upward, oh dear. He responded with his own beast-like roar, waiting a moment for a few others to take their darts up before catching the updraft and bringing him higher with a few good flaps of his wings. Back up, still not close yet.

M'tias was gone, completely absorbed by the bronze. M'tias/Yeskith did not exist; there was only Yeskith, only pure monster, and M'tias's blue eyes were unfocused as he began to laugh hysterically. "Yes, Faranth yes! Run, little bitch, run! Make this fun, make me want it!" The voice was alien, unknown--it was Yeskith's, deep yet cruel. It sounded distorted from M'tias's mouth, for it was mixed with the rider's effeminate tenor. The result would have been terrifying had the others been conscious.

Yeskith once again fought the urge to get too close, though he was closer than he was before. He was caught between swooping in and grabbing her wings, dragging her down to the ground, and waiting to chase her as a proper bronze would. Instinct was winning over madness, and while he snarled at the other chasers, he did not waste his time tormenting them as he would in a green flight. A whirling ruby eye singled out Xyriath, though there was no other regard apart from a look. The others were a waste of his time, though should he lose, that brown...

[stolenhart]

He did not miss the blood colored eye turning his direction, there was an unstable malice there that chilled even Xyriath's heart. Had he been less of a dragon he might have faltered and given the flight to that dangerous creature but he would not do that today. Too much rode on this single flight, the hopes of one puny human. A human who could not even concieve of the glory of this flight, trapped to the ground by their legs and wingless bodies. Xyriath was too attuned to his rider to ever leave but he did wonder, on a few lonely nights, what it would be like if it were only him. Today, in the aftermath of the flight, he got an inkling of it and it shook him.

It was the snarl from his competition that shook him loose from his thoughts as he watched the great bronze scoot ever closer. It was his own roar that dragged from his mouth, shaking the air around him as he rose up, higher than Kyrieth, higher than Yeskith. Oh yes, higher was better. Yeskith could not reach him here and it was easier to look downward than upward or level. And if she dived, he had sufficient body mass he could gain more speed than the lower level bronzes if he had to. And since she wasn't done yet, there was the chance she would come back up. Instinctively he knew height was required for a good clutch and the gold was too vain a creature to merely settle for a small clutch, no she'd want the most glorious, the largest and ultimately the best clutch for her first time. Which meant her mate would be the most glorious and the best dragon of the chase.

[Femisis]

Aeyth could feel the wind rushing beneath his wings with every flap, carrying him closer and closer, but not too close, to Kyrieth. He could see the others around him, some strong and others not worth considering, like the Brown Morth. There were plenty of Bronzes for Kyrieth to choose from and with nothing spectacular about Morth, he doubted the Brown would last very long. He spied Yeskith and Xyriath as well and gave a snort of disgust. The two of them were acting like hatchling fighting over a scrap of meat. Kyrieth was much more than that, not that any of these fools would realize it.

He swerved easily to avoid the wounded, chuckling in amusement at the sight. Stupid dragon, trying to move in so early… He deserved what he got. Once Kyrieth plummeted toward the ground he followed, folding his wings to drop after her. He opened them once again to continue following and to slow his descent, but it cost him some precious energy in the process.

Fen wasn’t quite with his dragon yet, so he caught the warning to stay away from Kaelu. The chuckle that escaped his lips couldn’t be helped, but with Aeyth’s mind tugging so fiercely on his that he couldn’t focus on what was happening inside the room. Let’s do this.

Yes! Aeyth roared in his mind before loosing a bugle aloud, celebrating Kyrieth freedom and his own, the freedom to fly and chase and catch!

[shouriko]

There was a point in this flight when Kyrieth took stock of her pursuers and their locations. She did this now as she slowly rotated in her straight flight path. There were two high above her, just waiting for the right moment to ensnare her. There were a collection who had followed her directly and obediently. The browns who remained were the largest of their color, but she could see that some were beginning to reach even their limits. Among the main pack were a few bronzes who were gaining on her, thinking her rotation a sign of fatigue. Ha! As if!

The first bronze to approach was hit with the tip of her tail right across the muzzle, effectively stunning him long enough to fall back and lose precious energy and distance from her. Another was trying to approach from below, she dropped quickly and struck out at the edge of his wing tip, just grazing it enough to unsteady him. As for the one who attempted from the side, Kyrieth flung herself him with such force that the wing gust alone set him off and a graze of her wing tip sent him out of the chase. With another three foolish contenders out of the race, she increased her height on a new found, fast rising thermal. She was not so high as those hawkish bronzes, but enough that she could keep a better eye on them.

Kaelu’s own actions were not so very different. Her fist swung out at a few, a long leg nicked the shins of another. Nails, hardly even long, grazed the cheeks of those who leaned in close. Her eyes shot arrows at them, she hissed vehemently at them akin to Kyrieth. She was as brutal and harsh in her perception of the men and though she was not aware of it now, she had many apologies to make already.

Kyrieth’s shining hide of gold swung across the sky as she continued a very zig-zagged pattern that was more and more random and chaotic. She hung on thermals, glided down a few times, and rose again as the sky lightened and a pale blue began to cover it. The clouds were clearing and it seemed that when she was caught and descended, the entire Weyr would be an audience to it. Just like her to make such a display that she would still remain the very center of attention. It was exactly as Kyrieth wanted, though she had still yet to decide whom she favored, if she even favored any at all!

[stolenhart]

He paid no attention to the sky as he flew, the strands of the morning's orange and reds fading away to the late mornings pale blues and crisp whites. The clouds were slowly clearing away as the warm spring air from the south and the west pushed it's way over the northern Weyr. Spring was well and truly here and settling in for it's short allotted time. No Xyriath paid attention to Kyrieth's glowing golden form, watching her zig this way and then zag back. He grew nervous every time she rose and fell away, hide itching to chase her but he was set on his course, win or lose.

Then she rose again into a perfect spot of clear blue sky just over the Weyr. It seemed in the hours of the flight that she had finally picked a stage for the end. He wasted no time in dilly-dallying around in the the air, reaching deep inside he found the strength to speed up, gaining on Kyrieth slowly but measureably. He knew she was a vicious flyer, she'd attacked several already, but Xyriath was a veteran of patrols and battles while she was not, he hoped that would be enough to give him an advantage. Should she try for him, he'd try for her.

He felt like his dragon, wanting to step up and take her, hold her still and keep her from hurting anyone else. He felt a tenuous disconnection between him and Xyriath, felt the dragon slip a bit in the air as his feelings for Kaelu overwhelmed his mind. No, he told the dragon, firmly clamping down on his emotions, pulling his arm back where it had been reaching out to her. It was not time just yet, but closer would work, yes close was good.

In the air, Xyriath had faltered, skipped a beat in his steady surge on Kyrieth's golden form. For a moment he thought he was done but then everything came back, his strength, determination and desire to win. Fortified once more, rider in league with him, the bronze continued on, burning up precious amounts of energy as he pulled closer towards the object of his lust.

[lucius]

Enough games, Yeskith was interested and he would actually chase. She whirled, clawed, lashed. He hesitated for a moment, wondering if he could take one of those bronzes and tear at it. But M'tias would suit better, and he paced back and forth, snarling like an animal. But there was the gold, and M'tias appeared as well. It was that nice little dark side that only showed when Yeskith tore away the weakness.

"We'll have her--oh yes we shall--I want her--You will have her--Fly, dammit, move your useless bronze ass!"

Oh yes, there it was. M'tias/Yeskith. Finally. But it was worse than Yeskith alone, for M'tias hid his wrath beneath years of training and a sense of human "dignity". It was hard to fight the teachings of his youth, but now it was gone. It had burned, and M'tias was laughing and screaming and moaning with every other breath. His small body quivered as he continued his moving, the look on his face pure delirium.

Yeskith dipped, then swooped upward, showing off his massive wingspan. He was ugly, distorted, horrid, but his hide and wings against the sun made it vanish momentarily before he turned on his back and barrel-rolled over. The fun was starting! He flapped forward, almost leisurely, but then noticed the effects of his new attitude.

Hm, he was losing, then? Xyriath could try, let the others dream. Yeskith let out a deep, throaty roar that was mirrored by M'tias's own high-pitched war cry. He pressed himself forward, still behind Xyriath but not far enough to consider himself lost. Was this the last leg, then?

"Better be, I'mma cum in my pants if she teases more," snarked M'tias, eyes on Kaelu. Hungry. He never liked submissive, delicate women; they weren't as fun to break. Actually, M'tias was not fond of women in general. Any time but the present, he would not have cared. But now, Yeskith and he were one, truly one, and the monster be hongry.

[Femisis]

Animals, all of them, F’rir/Aeyth thought disdainfully as they watched the gathered riders eye Kaelu like a toy or a piece of meat. At least the woman could hold her own, and even lashed out at the offenders. They deserved their punishment, just as their dragons did, filthy beasts. It was a wonder that the woman didn’t kill them all. In the air, Kyrieth was doing much the same to weed out the weaker of her suitors, both in body and mind. One stunned with a blow to the nose, another with an injured wing tip and a third unsteadied in his flight. She was getting more aggressive, though whether that meant the flight was coming to a close or not was yet to be seen.

Aeyth followed Kyrieth up on the new thermal, staying a bit behind her and to the left. He wasn’t foolish enough to get too close to provoke her anger, but he was in a good position to swoop in and catch her once it was safe to approach. It was a great responsibility to continue this chase and see it to the end, even if the steady pain in his wings was telling him to give up. He wasn’t a quitter, not by a long shot, and nothing short of a grave injury would take him out of the sky now.

He paid attention to nothing but her now as her flight became more and more erratic, working to stay with her without expending the precious energy he needed to conserve. She wasn’t done yet and she might be nowhere near done. The sky was Hers, after all. He bugled once more, praising her strength and skill and will. She could do no wrong in his eyes, at least not right now, not when he wanted nothing more than to give her the strongest clutch he could and could tell that His was thinking the same thing about her rider.

[shouriko]

She could feel it, the very slight feeling of weight in her wings. No one creature was invinceable, not even she. Kyrieth snarled angrilly as the main pack swarmed towards her. Her gaze narrowed, but the only true open space was above her. Along with that precious open space were the two vultures up above her. They were smart to save energy, but they had dishonored her by refusing to chase properly, even if it had been done at the last minute. She hardly had much choice.

Kyrieth avoided the crowd and evaded their attempts to ensnare her so that one could snatch her away from the others for himself. Did they forget that this was her flight? This was her choice to make! She snarled and hissed and snapped as she rose higher and higher. She found that special second wind that all creatures find as they push the limits of their endurance. Higher she went, higher out of necessity and instinct. Higher so that she was now just a little higher than Yeskith.

Yeskith. He was a brute of a bronze. He was not pretty, but he was intense and had the same animosity running in him as she did in that moment. He had called out to her, claiming her as his constantly. She wanted to defy him out of sheer obstinance. Kyrieth was her own dragon and she only belonged to Kaelu and no one else. This was far too important to be about possession alone. Her chortle rang out in defiance to him, knowing that she had proven herself more than just a trophy or a path to leadership when she had denied others with her lashing out. He had liked that, she recalled. He was a beast.

Above her was the other dragon, bronze Xyrieth. He was a gentleman, he wanted her just as badly too, but he was quiet. He hardly did anything other than hover above her, watching her every move. It was if her flight hardly mattered at all and he was just waiting for when he could lazily swoop down and take her. It made her feel less important than she knew she was. Though he was good looking and she had known him well, he didn’t prove himself at all this entire flight. He practically ignored her and she hated it! If she chose him, it would be rewarding him for nothing but the height he was able to attain in flight! Useless!

Down below further was the bugle of Aeyth. He was good solid bronze, Aeyth, yet he had blindly followed her. She was not just satisfied with a follower. Did he expect everyone to follow him if he followed her? Kyrieth snorted, she didn’t think so. Her mate needed a little more strength than the goodness and kindness of the Weyrlingmaster Assistant’s bronze. Maybe if he was a little older, a little wiser, a little more daring and then perhaps more urgent in his desires for her she would consider him a little more. For now Kyrieth left him below her, but for now she was in a dangerous spot as she maintained her altitude.

The calm and quiet brooding Xyrieth above who anticipated her rise? The savage, blood-lusting beast of a bronze Yeskith below her? Or just the blue wide open sky before her? The weight returned to her wings and the red she saw began to fade. This was it, her chosen suitor had better hold her good and tight and make the fall last well else she’d not forgive him. He’d best not mar her hide, break the perfect gold that shone so brilliantly in the morning light, he’d best not cause her harm needlessly or she’d take from him what he took from her. Kyrieth’s rage would be taken out on the poor hapless bronze and with her being the biggest dragon on all of Pern, it’d be only too easy for her to do so. But for now she dropped slightly and made the initiation of choice in a swift whirl or aerial arts by snagging Yeskith’s sharp claws in her own and whirled both of them around as she twisted herself about him.

You leave one scratch and I will take an eye. Kyrieth threatened him, speaking for the first time in the entire flight, for the first time that day.

Kaelu felt it, the decision, her green eyes flashed wildly over the crowd and found the blue pair of her chosen mate. Like a feral animal she shot her tall, lithe frame at one very much like her own. It was one that had hidden strength in it as well as a hidden animal, a dark side that only seldom revieled itself. Kaelu’s thin lips pressed up against those of M’tias as she hungrily dragged him towards the bed of furs. He was hers now and maybe he would think of it as the opposite, as if she were his, but what difference did it make now? All she knew was that she need to be with him as close as she could possibly get, hodling him as tightly as her thin arms and delicate hands would allow.

“M’tias.” Kaelu’s still wild and unrecognizeable voice moaned.

No, we're never gonna quit
Ain't nothing wrong with it
Just acting like we're animals
No, no matter where we go
'Cause everybody knows
We're just a couple of animals

So come on baby, get in
We're just a couple of animals
Get in, just get in
Ain't nothing wrong with it
Check out the trouble we're in
Get in, just get in

Nickelback - Animals

[lucius]

M'tias hardly knew what was happening. He planned on pouncing her but she grabbed him. Yeskith too knew he was close, close enough to make this end. But it was her choice, and that, indeed, increased the size of the respect. She not only chose for herself, but she chose well. His body twirled about hers, the arrogance slipping just a bit. Bronze and gold, how natural, how fitting.

I wouldn't dream of it, he responded, and then said nothing else.

M'tias was small, he always knew that much, and now only made it worse. But she was his now, he had her and as the furs curled around him, he wasn't exactly sure what he moaned. Her name, her dragon's name, something stupid. Sex was usually frightening and disgusting for him, but now it didn't matter.

He'd be caught between pleased and horrified in the morning.

I can corrupt you
It would be easy
Watching you suffer
God, it would please me

I can corrupt you
It will be ugly
They could sedate you
But I wanna touch you with
my hands on your hips
It would be too much to
Place my lips on your lips
you'll be calling out my name
Begging me to play my games

[/i]

Corrupt, Depeche Mode

[stolenhart]

In all the chaos, all the flurry of activity as Xyriath watched the future fall away. No one paid any attention to V'las. Released from his dragon's death hold on his mind he stared, stunned at the sight that unfolded before him. It was not him who was pulled into Kaelu's bed but M'tias, that snivelling coward. A snarl so feral, so inhumane threatened to come out of his mouth but he caught himself, choking on the bile that threatened to escape. He left.

It was just as Xyriath came to the ledge, where else would he go, that V'las found him. No matter how tired the bronze was, no matter how weary his wings drooped, the silent pair fled the Weyr for the comforts of a place that had no ugly reminders of what they had lost. If only V'las could tell his grandfather to take all back, it might not be so hard, but it was too late. The Weyr had a new leader now and V'las wasn't sure if he trusted that man. He could feel the tiny tendrils of jealousy beginning and he killed them, choking them off.

He would spend the night and try to reason with himself that there was no need for jealousy, no need for anything but his duty. Xyriath was a pitiful hulk of mass but the bronze was there for him and he would be there for the dragon as well. They had always done well together and would continue to do so as long as they were together.