The World of Pern(tm) copyright (c) 1967 by Anne McCaffrey.
The Dragonriders of Pern(r) is a registered copyright.
An online session, recorded by permission of the author for the benefit of
members unable to attend.
============================================================================

August 17, 2000.  PernMUSH.  E'vrin's POV.
--
Autumn evening, Ista Weyr.  (IC +time unknown)
Cast:  A'zric, E'vrin, Tamina, Sonya, Lyree.

Ista Weyrwoman Germaine's Isadith rises in a mating flight, pursued by two
bronzes, three blues, and assorted peripheral NPCs.
============================================================================
You manage the unruly updraft originating from the lower west part of the bowl, and 
backwing neatly to a landing in the Center of the Bowl.
--
Ista Weyr Bowl -- Center(#900RJs)
The evening sun shines its reddish glow through the opening in the bowl wall to the 
northwest, across the beast corrals. Scanning around you, you can see the wide 
stretch of wall housing the Weyrling Barracks to the north. To the east of here, the 
reddish glow shines upon the entrance to the Hatching Grounds, as well as the 
queens' weyrs. To the southeast, activity is beginning to form around the areas 
leading to the lower caverns as well as the Living Cavern.
Ruddy evening light filters down from the clear fall sky, over the bustle of the 
active Weyr. Winds swirl around the peaks, through the forests, and along the 
beaches, causing frothy whitecaps on the surf. The temperature hovers in the warm 
range, while visibility is excellent.
You see weyrs all around you, many close to ground level.
Contents:
Tamina
A'zric
Myndirth
--

You slide down Sharath's shoulder and foreleg to the ground.

In the corrals, Gelth tosses aside the buck, not out of place amongst blues and 
browns alike, the smaller bronze taking a moment before thrusting himself upon a 
hapless wherry, slurping.

Sharath can scarcely wait for the time it takes his rider to slide down, slippery as 
oil, before launching again on hard, fast, tawny-gilt wings.

A'zric hurries to catch up to Tamina, unsurprised as another bronze arrives to join 
the fun, "Mina."

Sharath leaves northwest, toward the corrals.

In the corrals, Gaudiorth crunches rather juicely into his herbeast, his eyes 
swirling a mixture of red and purple. She blue sucks the 'beast dry, then puffs 
himself up and sidesteps in an attempt to muscle a nearby brown aside. Small dragon 
syndrome.

Sonya arrives from the southeast, near the living cavern.

"But we were going to visit -- oh, blast and flame." E'vrin straightens from his 
hasty dismount's crouch, tugs his leathers straight, and looks around with skulking, 
poking glances at everyone else. He's not here; nothing to see, nothing to see.

In the corrals, Sooth drains the last drops from his second bird, tossing both 
carcasses somewhat backwards, which incidentally sends them clear outside the pen 
fences. His attention is already focused on the next knot of paniced beasts being 
forced his way by the other feeders. A casual-looking swipe takes down a fat beast, 
which adds it's blood to the gory frescoes across his chest and arms. Yum.

Tamina turns as A'zric calls her name, the tension of pre-flight emotions and her 
dragon's blooding obvious in her expression, "Don't ask me, it's all his idea. You 
know how Gaudiorth has a crush on all the golds."

Sonya comes along side the other riders, bewildererd. "Pryth, shards and shells what 
are you doing?" she hollers.
Sonya leaves northwest, toward the corrals.

A'zric gapes, "This is going to be quite the Flight, she's enamoured half the blues 
into chasing."
A'zric leaves northwest, toward the corrals.

Lyree arrives from the southeast, near the living cavern.
Lyree leaves northwest, toward the corrals.

Tamina leaves northwest, toward the corrals.

In the corrals, Sharath appears overhead as a dark shadow as he sails over the fence 
to backwing to a landing in the corral.
In the corrals, Sharath eels up and over the corral fence and then pours his 
flashing momentum into dashing mortem: a herdbeast's death under daggered paws. His 
jaws catch the first gouts of throat's blood, and his bulk moves swiftly after, over 
atop the carcass to hide it under mantled wings -- to drink.

In the corrals, Pryth leaps up suddenly, a blue body soaring over the panicked 
animals. Swooping suddenly he drops down to snag a wild wherry in his talons. Over 
to a unoccupied section of the corrals he goes to blood this one, just like the 
first one."

You head northwest, toward the corrals.
--
Ista Weyr Bowl -- Northwest
The golden light of the evening sun outlines the corral's fences to the west. To the 
southeast, the bowl widens out as it approaches the far side of towering black rock 
and the high fingers, five jutting peaks, high above. The black and gray rock of the 
bowl is devoid of any green or colour, except for the hundreds of dragons seen on 
ledges all along the Weyr walls. The Weyrling Barracks to the north open wide in a 
double-arch.
Ruddy evening light filters down from the clear fall sky, over the bustle of the 
active Weyr. Winds swirl around the peaks, through the forests, and along the 
beaches, causing frothy whitecaps on the surf. The temperature hovers in the warm 
range, while visibility is excellent.
Contents:
Tamina
Lyree
A'zric
Sonya
Germaine
Taburc
--

A'zric just slowly shakes his head, watching the gore with the fascination of one at 
a wagon-wreck, "Quite the Flight, very much quite the Flight."

In the corrals, Sooth tosses aside the empty herdbeast, the opposite way this time, 
sending it *SMACK* into balck Weyr wall. Which now has a lovely red-brown spatter 
pattern there.

E'vrin trails belatedly after his flashfire dragon, looking only slightly less lost 
than -- well, Sharath doesn't look lost at all, does he? His rider can only hold the 
rope of their bond between both hands -- visible in his eyes' tightly couched squint 
-- and go on, go on, go on.

In the corrals, Gaudiorth leaves off trying to muscle aside the brown and his head 
comes up suddenly as his lifemate takes a hand in things. The blue gathers himself 
to launch, but at the sound of Isadith, he pauses and answers with a brassy bugle.

Lyree just blinks, nodding slightly at Sonya's comment, then grinning slightly at 
Germaine's. "True.. and he's always been particularly besotted by her.." Then she 
blushes as she catches herself giving Germaine a decidely appraising once-over.

In the corrals, Sharath slicks his tongue through his first kill's gape-smiling 
neck: a hungry kiss's promissory note. But he doesn't take down a second, not yet. 
Giddy carnelian eyes are whirling over the ... blues ... present on these hunting 
grounds, and his tail's lashing its own derisive comment for it.

In the corrals, Sooth pauses in his selection of the next victim, to watch the 
glorious rise of a new sun, named Isadith. He bugles admiringly.

E'vrin mutters, "Don't mind /them,/ just do it -- yes, yes -- so we can go--" 
Primitive manners breaks him off, makes him send a nervous look 'round at the 
Istans, makes him be quiet.

In the corrals, Gelth bugles in reply to the golden charm, tones ringing around the 
bowl, echoing into the tropical sky. Hunger, of multiple sorts, soon send him back 
to the hunt, leaving a herdbeast lacking of life and throat, red lifeforce dribbling 
down bronze jaw.

Sonya is still muttering about Pryth being too tired and this isn't what normally 
happens in a gold's flight. But she finally does just look resigned, standing there 
watching her lifemate blood the poor defenseless animals.

Lyree glances towards E'vrin, attempting a reassuring grin in his direction. You'll 
have to judge it's effectiveness for yourself.

In the corrals, Pryth crouches low, makeing a low growling noise deep in his chest 
as an out of weyr brown actually dare comes near him. Then suddenly one dragon only 
takes all his attention and he watches Isadith intently.

E'vrin forces a thin facsimile of a reply to his own mouth. "It's just..." He trails 
off, hunches his shoulders. What else needs be said?

Above you, Isadith sweeps long, graceful wings in a heart-paced rhythm, her golden 
tail a banner in the brilliant island sunset. With a scream of hunger, eyes whirling 
orange-red against the darkening sky, she plunges downward toward the hapless 
animals in the corral, avoiding the males, and taking down a fat wherry with one 
stroke of her claw. Her tremendous jaws fasten upon the beast, and her voice croons 
at the taste of first, hot blood.

Taburc has disconnected.

With all the players in the game, Tamina turns away from the corrals and draws 
closer to Germaine. As is typical for the bluerider during flights, she attempts to 
crowd the rider of the female and so takes a few steps toward Germaine, her gaze 
more intense.

Lyree nods, even as her attention is dragged relentlessly back to the captivating 
ritual being played out again, as it has been for unnumbered Turns, there in the 
bloody grounds.

Germaine seems utterly wrapped in the glory of her lifemate, though she seems also, 
instinctively, to move closer to the riders of the feeding males, her face flushed 
and expression one of exhultation.

In the corrals, Gaudiorth takes a swipe at a squealing beast sent his way by 
Isadith's disturbance among the herds, his attempt at masculine cool in front of the 
golden beauty. He crouches down to again slurp, but most of his attention is on 
Isadith.

"Blood my love! Drink long and deep!" whispers the Weyrwoman, the pounding of her 
pulse at her neck visible to anyone within a few steps.

A'zric glances around at the collection of riders, "Perhaps, it might not be unwise 
to head for the guest weyr sooner rather than later." his voice is careful.

In the corrals, Sharath falls back into a hind-balanced crouch, then springs forward 
and slaps a flapping wherry to the ground. Those goggling eyes lead his head's curve 
forward to nip open a drinking hole; that eloquent tail stiffens and stills with the 
first sucking swallows. And he watches Isadith, waiting on her fire, waiting on the 
fire, waiting.

[Quoting from William Carlos Williams's _Paterson._]

In the corrals, Gelth shows none of his lifemate's care, tossing aside the almost 
empty herdbeast with a spray of blood through the corrals. He croons softly, wooing 
the golden perfection that has joined the bloodfest.

Germaine gives the Weyrleader a distracted look, "Yes. Yes, of course." She glances 
back to the corral, to her lifemate and her suitors, then back to A'zric, "Perhaps 
you would like to lead?" she asks in an uncharacteristically sly tone, well aware of 
the double-entendre.

In the corrals, Sooth is quiet now, and with deliberation makes a short hop, to 
bring down a fourth victim, unusual for him, but then he doesn't go chasing golds 
often. He'll need all the strength he can muster.

E'vrin's breath loses itself in exhalation to counterpoint Germaine's exultation. 
Still keeping his shoulders in, he slices agreement at A'zric, the others, in a 
stiffly jerked nod: inside, good, now.

A'zric takes a deep breath, heading back towards the center of the bowl.
A'zric travels southeast towards the center of the bowl.

It would seem that all of Sonya's attention is on the scene of blooding dragons 
before her. But she can see Tamina drawing in closer to GErmaine out of the corner 
of her eye. Turning her head suddenly she actually snarls at the other bluerider. 
"Too close." she warns softly, just like her blue liefmate did to the brown in the 
corrals.

Lyree shoots a .look. Germaine's way at that comment, wondering if she's gotten in 
over head with this one. Well, more than she thinks she has, anyway.

Above you, Isadith barely pauses to let out a low moaning shriek of protest as her 
rider's attention is whipped back toward the corral. The gold moans again, then, 
obeying despite her overwhelming desire, only bloods the second carcass, gore 
dripping from her glowing muzzle.

With an answering moan to her lifemate, Germaine tears herself away from the corrals 
to follow the Weyrleader.

Sharath> Isadith senses that Sharath's mind touches light, light -- /is/ light, with 
hearthflame's purring, crackling heat. Go. Go. Go now. Fly!

Tamina jerks up as Sonya offers a warning, and she does take a step back. But she 
glances at Germaine again then gives the other bluerider a defiant look.

Germaine travels southeast towards the center of the bowl.
Tamina travels southeast towards the center of the bowl.

In the corrals, Sooth doesn't even bother tossing away this carcass, totally 
entranced by the ever-more-golden queen. He simply crouches, tense without being 
tight, waiting on her.

In the corrals, Pryth snatches down another small beast and begins to blood yet 
again. He snarls savagely at the dying animal as he tears into. Thirstily he laps at 
the blood, to get that fullfilling nurishment he so needs.

E'vrin scores a last look across his dragon and the other suitors -- and the queen 
-- then stalks after.

Sonya travels southeast towards the center of the bowl.

You travel towards the center of the bowl.

Germaine looks towards the southeast section of the bowl.

You walk into the large opening of the guest weyr.
--
Large Guest Weyr
This large weyr is big enough to hold a bronze, and is of the number of 'empty' 
weyrs that serve as places for wing-injured dragons to rest out of the elements. A 
wide cot is off to one side, and the dragon-couch fills most of the high-ceilinged 
Weyr. Several low tables and benches line the southwestern wall.
The warm hazy light of sunset can be seen filling the air outside.
The only exit is the huge archway to the northeast.
Contents:
Tamina
--

Germaine walks in from the bowl.
Lyree walks in from the bowl.
A'zric walks in from the bowl.
Sonya walks in from the bowl.

Sonya has disconnected.

[Weyr was OOC and so not logged.  Belatedly I slapped a +watch into place:]

Ista Bowl> In the corrals, Pryth is finished with the blooding. His eyes now take on 
a more purple hue. Down low he crouches again, watching and waiting. She will 
eventually go up and that's when he get her, UP there, in the sky!

Ista Bowl> In the corrals, Gelth stops before attacking another beast, instead 
launching himself towards the golden delight now above.

Ista Bowl> In the corrals, Sooth leaps after the glowing queen instantly, just like 
everybody else.
Ista Bowl> In the corrals, Sooth leaps into the air.

Ista Bowl> In the corrals, Gelth leaps into the air.
Ista Bowl> In the corrals, Sharath leaps into the air.

Ista Bowl> In the corrals, Gaudiorth tenses as the gold screams and he launches 
himself with a reckless-sounding bugle. The blue doesn't try for subtly and merely 
pumps wings in a brutal attempt to gain distance between himself and the ground.
Ista Bowl> In the corrals, Gaudiorth leaps into the air.

Ista Bowl> Above you, Isadith beats her wings, against the ocean headwinds, and 
sails out over the corrals.
Ista Bowl> Above you, Sooth beats his wings, against the ocean headwinds, and sails 
out over the corrals.
Ista Bowl> Above you, Sharath beats his wings, against the ocean headwinds, and 
sails out over the corrals.

Ista Bowl> In the corrals, Pryth bugles and leaps up. Hey, she's gone up alittle 
sooner than thought.
Ista Bowl> In the corrals, Pryth leaps into the air.

Ista Bowl> Above you, Gaudiorth beats his wings, against the ocean headwinds, and 
sails out over the corrals.
Ista Bowl> Above you, Pryth beats his wings, against the ocean headwinds, and sails 
out over the corrals.
Ista Bowl> Above you, Gelth beats his wings, against the ocean headwinds, and sails 
out over the corrals.

[Thus, they moved beyond the range of that +watch.  Sharath's pose, lost in
 transition:

Sharath courses slow to the chase, at least initially. Why hurry? Strength will win 
out, with stamina's bulling push, and never mind the quicksilver folly of speed. 
Staying low in the middle of the pack, he chooses his spot and defends it against 
all comers, lurking for the prize ahead.

 . . . Then I turned the puppet on to track things:]

Sharath> Gelth glides upon the thermals of the Istan sky, high in the pack, as if 
watching with a great deal of interest the blues in the sky, fascinating him.

Sharath> Isadith makes her way swiftly across the Plateau, heading straight as an 
arrow out over the sea, bright as fire against the deepening sunset. Glancing 
behind, she lets out another challenging cry, her rich voice echoing against the 
volcanic cliffs of her home.

Sharath> Pryth raises up into the well known Istan sky. His home, his area. His 
familiarity to this sky and it's wind currents are near perfect as the blue zips up 
and about, his blue wings sweeping the sky. No sound escapes the blue as he travels. 
His destination? That glowing, beautifull, lusty Gold up there. Yup yup.

Sharath> Sooth saves his breath for flying. He loses ground comically fast to the 
larger queen, so works instead on gaining height, pulling out of the pack to gain 
wing room, and climbing up the thermals and currents he knows so well in his native 
Weyr. Unfortunately, as most of the dragons here are also native, it's not much of 
an advantage.

Sharath> Gaudiorth eels through a gap between two browns, his attitude all 
eagerness. Too besotted to actually think, the blue bugles his excitement at chasing 
a gold, at chasing Isadith.

Sharath> Sharath, not native, can only navigate as best he can on those winds that 
so buoy Sooth and the others. Over the thermal and through the currents, towards 
shining gold he goes -- his wings know the way to carry the day though he moves but 
safe and slow.

[To the cadence of "Over the river and through the woods . . ."]

Sharath> Isadith screams throatily as Pryth's swift flight brings him close enough 
for her to feel the wind of his wings. Pulling strongly, her own wings pulse with 
sudden strength, and like a golden ship, the Queen pulls ahead and into a high curve 
away from her beloved Pryth, her violet eyes whirling in an effort to follow his 
darting trajectory, and not noticing that Sooth has climbed to intercept.

Sharath> Gelth bugles in delighted excitment, the lust bubbling over into pure 
enjoyment of the warm Istan sky, of the thrill of the chase, of the swift breezes 
through his wings and most of all, the captivating golden form fueling his delight, 
his very existance currently. He ducks in a bit, dipping and diving into the pack, 
heedless of the other dragons he's in the way of, showing off for his love.

Sharath> Rveth, a large brown from Igen, in his eagerness to follow the elusive 
golden banner of a tail, gets a bit too close to a bronze from Reaches, and wings 
tangle. Both dragons fall a gew lengths as they untangle, but neither seems injured 
and both return to the chase, working to make up the lost ground.

Sharath> Sooth leans into his wingstrokes as the golden beauty actually rises up 
/towards/ him, cutting the distance he has to make up to reach her. EAgerness 
shining from every inch of him (thought not as literally as from her) he lets out a 
trumpet of excitement as he nears her.

Sharath> Pryth lets one bugle escape him as suddenly she's close and then just as 
suddenly she's /gone!/ If he could he would wail out in anquish as the gold passes 
him. Would it seem he's lost his edge, his advantage? The blue doesn't give up yet. 
Another push of his wings and he soars through the sky.

Sharath> Gaudiorth gives a kind of disappointed groaning rumble as Sooth and Pryth 
appear to gain on Isadith. The other blue attempts to keep pace, his enthusiasm no 
less. He lags a little behind suddenly gains altitude as he catches a thermal.

Sharath> Sharath rolls to his right on a careful shoulder's flex -- and, oh, the 
scars glisten and glower, they do -- and presses forward just a bit. A bit. Aiming 
at the vanguard now, he is, with his foretalons clasping air to his chest and his 
tail flagging brightly behind in the choppy slipstream.

Sharath> A pair of bronzes roar at each other, tails lashing and claws bared as each 
thinks that that other is impairing his path.

Sharath> Isadith sails upward, her body glistening and golden, fairly thrumming with 
the joy of flight, the exhileration of the mating dance making her rumble with 
dragon-laughter as she nearly completes the arc that will bring her to collision 
with Sooth. Curving her neck around again, she shrieks in startlement at the sight 
of Sooth so close, and plunges suddenly beneath the trumpeting blue, heading for the 
glimmering azure sea and using her far greater weight to full advantage. A sudden 
thermal catches her fall, the same that bouys up Gaudiorth, and the Queen skims the 
younger blue in an aerial caress of wingbeat-breeze as she strikes back toward the 
Island, her lithe figure awash with Rukbats last fire.

Sharath> Sharath corkscrews his narrow form to follow. Let her toy with the blues, 
and let the blues toil for her. The bronzes abide, and the bronzes await. This one 
is stringing out his waiting time on tenterhooks of patience: his wings fence for 
better winds, and drag him into Isadith's new wake further ahead of where once he 
tracked.

Sharath> Sooth reaches, reaches... and misses by a length or two as she dives out of 
reach like a falling star. He crooons disconsolately, but refuses to follow her 
down. He curves around in a gentle arc, keeping his height advantage as it's the 
only one he has! Still, it hurts to see all those other male bodies between his 
sapphire self and the exquisite golden setting it longs for.

Sharath> Gelth gets caught up in a fresh thermal blast, bouyed up from his dive, the 
bronze trying hard to have the acrobatic skill of a blue, his bulk only making his 
antics clumsy, but no less enthusiastic. He gives a few good presses of bronze wings 
against wind, pulling back up into pack, again scattering blues and browns in his 
wake.

Sharath> Gaudiorth gives a thrilled kind of warble as Isadith "buzzes" him and for a 
moment it seems as if he's spured on to new heights. The distance between him and 
gold lengthens however, and Gaudiorth eventually gives in and begins to spiral down.

Sharath> Fly! Fly! That's all Pryth is doing as he zigs and zags his way through the 
sky. He's just got to do this soon, for though she can last alot longer then he can. 
He's got the speed and he tries to use it now. Just alittle closer. He strains 
forward when suddenly a large brown darts from above to cut him off. And since he's 
no horn, or even fingers all he can do is shriek in surprise and drop down suddenly. 
But quickly that shriek turns to one of pain. His favors his left wing suddenly as 
he heads downwards.

Sharath> Sooth circles again, still above the main body of the chaos of the flight, 
husbanding his failing strength as he watches the luscius form of Isadith sport 
among the males below, waiting and hoping for one more chance..

Sharath> Isadith croooons lovingly to Gaudiorth and Pryth, her desire underlying the 
reassurance of her liquid tones. Willing, however, to let the sweet blues leave the 
dance, she stretches her wings wide and, with a serpentine tensing of muscle-under-
golden-hide, launches herself against the stars just beginning to reveal their 
brilliance on velvet-darkness.

Sharath> Pryth descends towards the plateau.

Sharath> Sooth angles more sharply as, yes indeed, she rises once again, displaying 
her wealth of strength and stamina. This time he keeps his noise to himself, just a 
dark blotch against the star-stewn heavens.

Sharath> Gelth spirals down, closer to the gold and her blue harem, bugling happily 
as he plays within the air currents, biding his time, just enjoying the view, the 
nearness to Isadith and the flying.

Sharath> Sharath twists in reflection, the gold's more darkly burnished afterimage, 
which pursues her from the depths of stored strength now. /Now,/ now will he arrow 
after her, ripping through a slower brown's passage to forge his own right down from 
the stars; and their light moves softly oceanic over bronze hide, caught in bronze 
wings and tail and neck that curve forward to reach her, to catch her, to hold her. 
Oh, if only he could--

Sharath> Isadith soars ever higher, taking advantage of a monstrous thermal as she 
makes a wide curve around the top of the Bowl, just above the Star Stones, moving 
back toward Sooth and Sharath, the joyous warble of her voice calling out clear and 
rich in the night air. She moves suddenly and with a savagely ferocious thrust of 
wings, virtually pulling herself above the bronze magnificence that is Sharath, 
finding herself--oh! too soon!--directly in Gelth's flight path.

Sharath> Gelth bugles as Sharath gets too close to his golden prize, the smaller 
bronze quickly changing that bugle into a loving croon as she comes right at him, 
right to him, his wings opened wide to tangle her into their loving embrace, pushing 
himself towards his lovely lady.

Sharath> And -- no! Not to be, not now, anyway. Denied, denied, Sharath splits a new 
wind for his use, riding up high and away, past the mated pair, past Sooth, past 
them /all/ ... just away. Away.

Sharath> Sooth warbles in dismay as she moves, somewhat violently, out of his reach 
yet again. Not that she was that close to being in it, this time, but still. The 
warble dissolves into a soft croon, as he surrenders to exhaustion, and drops 
towards the bowl below.

[Sharath left, too, and he and E'vrin made their interrupted visit and then went
 home again.  Log ends.]