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Rinath's First Flight


Date:  March 5, 2000
Places:  Telgar Weyr's Living Cavern, Southern Bowl, Central Bowl,
Feeding Grounds, and Skyspace
Game:  PernMUSH
Copyright Info:  The World of Pern is copyright(c) to Anne McCaffrey 
l967. The Dragonriders of Pern(r) is a registered copyright.

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Kassi's Note:  Step right up and place your bets!  Saskia's gold Rinath
takes to the air for the first time, with a full host of browns and 
bronzes in hot pursuit; Kassi makes a few marks and loses a few, 
plays at being a prophet, and finally spends a few serious moments in
conversation with M'kon.  Thanks go to I'sai for contributing the 
Guest Weyr poses. :)

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The Log:

You walk past the lintel and into the wide living cavern.

Pierron humphs thoughtfully as the Wingleader of Thunderbolt arrives.

D'ton stops by the DHL Feast Table to get an early look at what the
BakerCraft has prepared for the feast.

Lysseth> M'kon lands heavily on the ground after dismounting from Nioth.

Aurian fills a mug lightly. No need to go and drink herself into oblivion.
If there's hope.. well its possible that Rinath won't rise yet.

Lysseth> Ceria follows what promises to be a small crowd into the living
cavern.

Ceria walks in from the bowl.

M'kon walks in from the bowl.

M'kon makes his way in, rubbing the top of his head with one lightly
calloused hand, over and over, like there's a webspinner running around the
short stuff.

I'sai settles down his table with a thump of its own; china and cutlery
clatter, but nothing breaks just yet. And he sniffs, fastidiously; "Are you
certain this was a good idea?"

Aurian sips at her wine as she watches the varous arrivals. She arches an
eyebrow at the table.

D'ton sets down his end of the table with a relieved sigh. "Well," he says,
"It was nowhere near Ehath, and it would be a shame to let it go to waste."

M'kon looks up at the sound of the clatter, and quirks a brow in
curiousity. Distracted from his thoughts.

D'ton says ruefully, "You know, I had asked for some light refreshments for
the talk...not quite this."

"Y'know, these are *really* good," Kassi observes of the peas as she
polishes off another forkful. Somehow, despite her distraction, her side of
the table still managed to arrive minus splatterage. Never mind whether the
smell of the Infirmaries clung to the table. This is *mint* we're talking
about. "Don't be silly, Is. Try some. They're fine! And g'deve, malerider
contingent."

Ceria chuckles as she overhears D'ton. "Well it looks good," she comments
with a glance at the table.

M'kon chuckles, a deep chuff, "Evening, Kassima...all."

Saskia walks in from the bowl.

"Bakers," I'sai agrees with D'ton, if with approval; he steps back, links
his hands to pop his knuckles in a slow progression. "Thanks, Kassima. But
don't want to lose it later." Turns. "Evening."

Maylia steadies a bowl or two, as the Big Strong Men set the table down,
then sets about helping herself. After all, better get the food before the
masses arrive. Procuring a glass full of wine to go with the samples of
culinary delights, she heads towards Aurian, with a grin by way of
greeting. "Had a chance to speak with Mart, yet?" She inquires. No, she
doesn't glee in provoking her friend. NOt at all.

M'kon gives I'sai a bit of a wry smile...he's darker, if just a shade. Must
have spent a couple of days lurking at Igen again.

Saskia strolls in, smiling and whistling a jaunty tune. She waves and says
simply "She's asleep right now."

Kassima chides the bronzerider lightly, "If'n flights are making you lose
your lunch, methinks you have a problem... well, so, then--" She abandons
her fork to rub her hands together in an anticipatory fashion. "Given the
haste with which those Istan queenriders left, 'twill nay be long now.
Who's up for making bets while their minds are still clear?"

Lysseth> Above, From the Telgar Star Stones, L'klal's burnished bronze
Pteynth rears on hind legs and bugles a greeting to brown Farlioth and his
rider, Miritha of Fort Weyr.

M'kon's eyes dart over towards Saskia a moment, before he simply heads for
the klahpot and pours himself a mug of the stuff. Black.

Saskia heads straight over to the hearth and helps herself to a generous
portion of stew. Her appetite at least seems to be strong.

I'sai takes note, pale-eyed - and with one silver-gray shoulder turned to
where weyrlingmaster and wingleader confer. "No bets, no klah, no mint. But
thank you."

Lysseth> Above, From the Telgar Star Stones, L'klal's burnished bronze
Pteynth rears on hind legs and bugles a greeting to bronze Zyrieth and his
rider, R'lym of HighReaches Weyr.

D'ton says to I'sai, "Well, dunno about you. But I always try to eat
something before a flight happens around here. Otherwise I get lightheaded
as well as everything else." That said, he helps himself to some of the
food. Though it's a light helping, considering what he usually eats.

Akiko walks in from the bowl.

M'kon ohs after a moment, and makes his way over to D'ton, "Sir..."

Lysseth> Zyrieth backwings for a landing.

Lysseth> Farlioth backwings for a landing.

Ceria moves toward the table to sample its offerings.

Lysseth> R'lym lovingly pats Zyrieth's neck, swings his leg over the
bronze's neck and hops to the ground.

Aurian sips her wine actually, "Hmmm actually.. I had the report dropped
off this morning..."

Lysseth> Miritha slides down Farlioth's leg to his bent knee, and drops to
the ground.

"I'll be light-headed anyway," I'sai supposes, but even so takes his advice
and reaches for a token slice of hard-crusted bread to gnaw upon.

Saskia finds a seat near to Kassima with the remark "You're actually safe
at the moment. And I bet that Rinath will rise soon." She then begins to
eat with great gusto.

Lysseth> R'lym waves to Miritha, "Hello, Miritha." He smiles.

"Nay bets, nay klah--well, all right, 'twill grant the klah--nay mint, nay
fun," Kassima retorts, nose crinkling. "What happened to 'Eat, drink, and
be merry'? For tomorrow we shall die, and all that." She doesn't need any
such excuse to eat, of course. She's by now taken that whole bowl of mint
peas and is happily finishing it off. "Mmm-hmmm," she mumbles to Saskia
around a mouthful.

D'ton turns around when he hears someone speak to him. "Huh?" he says, "Oh,
hey there, M'kon. You don't have to call me sir, you know. Not like I'm a
wingleader or anything like that."

Telgar Weyr> Kassima tries to figure out why she has 'Joy To the World'
(the 'Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea; joy to you and me' version)
in her head at a time like this.

Lysseth> Miritha smiles as she slides off her brown. "R'lym! Hello, hello!
And hello to you, Zyrieth. You're both well?"

Telgar Weyr> Saskia says, "Aren't flights supposed to be joyful? :)"

Maylia flashes Aurian a smile, then darts a glance to Kassima. "I've no
intentions of dying tomorrow, mentor-mine." She remarks. "So I'll settle
for eating and drinking. For later," a meaningful glance goes towards the
goldrider, "The barracks will be in a tizzy."

Telgar Weyr> T'saren grins. Or fearful. ;)

Telgar Weyr> D'ton says, "They sure are if you win 'em. *evil grin*."

M'kon grins, sheepishly, "Anyhow...um...you haven't been around Igen a lot
lately, have you."

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "Well, that's one word for it. ;) Maybe this
means Kassi's destined to win a ton of marks. That'd make her joyful. ;)"

Lysseth> Solarith backwings for a landing.

Ceria eyes Saskia as she sits down with her own meal and begins to eat.
"Define soon?" she calls over to her.

Akiko walks towards the inner cavern.

Lysseth> T'saren slides down from Solarith's neck, using the bronze's
foreleg and riding straps for assistance.

Leya walks here from the Inner Cavern.

T'saren walks in from the bowl.

Pierron gives a respectful nod to the Weyrsecond.

I'sai suggests mildly enough - if also loud enough to carry Kassima's way
in the crowded cavern - "Tomorrow I'll have breakfast. Or lunch. A late
one." And suddenly looks back.

Saskia blithely ignores the various looks directed her way and particularly
Maylia's. No sense thinking about what happened last night. "This is very
good stew." she says between mouthfuls.

Aurian sips at her wine as she glances towards Saskia, "There something to
eat about here?" She grins and glances towards the table, "Oh look.."

D'ton chews on his snack thoughtfully for a moment before responding to
M'kon. "Igen? No, not at all," he says, "Have to confess, I'm way too much
of a homebody. Don't get south much. Why do you ask?"

T'saren returns Pierron's nod, then looks a tad surprised by the crowd in
the living cavern. "Evening, all," he calls to everyone, stepping towards
his weyrmate with a smile.

M'kon ums a bit, and gestures the other bronzerider away, towards a bit
more privacy.

Kassima's pea-muffled chortle is appreciative; she wonders, with the
slighest of eyebrow wiggles, "And so how much should I be placing on
Taralyth, then, and how prepared t'be coping with a grumpy green? Ah,
g'deve, Tas. You're just in time. As usual. Want stew? Saskia says 'tis 
good."

D'ton follows M'kon over cluelessly, plate still in hand.

Leya walks in from staying to talk for a bit with a fellow wingrider in the
infirmary. She stands near the entrance and just watches, trying to see
which are the safe places to sit.

Maylia glances up with a warm smile, as Tas approaches, one hand supporting
a plate rather laden with delicacies from the feast table, the other
cradling a glass of wine. "Evening, love." She greets.

Saskia shrugs at Ceria. "Beats me. Tomorrow maybe." then looks up and gives
Aurian her most charming smile "Ahh, yes. Glad you're here. There's plenty
to eat."

Lysseth> R'lym smiles "Oh yes, quite well. As are you and Farlioth, I 
trust?"

M'kon mutters to D'ton, "... of... that... impersonating...
Igen...they're... a... they wear a Telgari... they're... said the man's..."

Lysseth> Farlioth warbles happily, curving his neck and spreading his wings
as Miritha glances at him. She laughs at him and shakes her head. "Flirt!
Him, I mean. We're fine." The Fortian tilts her head and gestures towards
the living cavern. "I assume you were going there?"

I'sai's shoulders draw in, and he fastens up another button to that red
armor of a vest, for all that he leaves his tunic's throat-laces be; he
eases Kassima's way in lieu. "Hey. If one way it's with a hangover, well -
some decent seeds on the bread's edge, too. And wouldn't I be distraught if
you gave up more marks on my account," that with something of a smile.

"In time for what?" T'saren asks of Kassi with an upraised brow as he
settles into a seat beside Maylia. "And no thanks about the stew. Sol says
he'd like to go for a flight later and he gets all grumpy when I tell him
his acrobatics are making my stomach turn. Although I'm a bit surprised by
his request about a flight."

Lysseth> Nioth shifts his weight from foot to foot, almost idly, as if he
had nothing better to do with his big bulk.

D'ton suddenly starts coughing. Loudly. He must've choked on his food.

Aurian salutes T'saren playfully with her wine glass, "G'd eve
weyrsecond.." She grins and takes another sip of her drink, before glancing
back to Saskia, "So I see.. any recommendations?"

Lysseth> R'lym asks to Miritha,"Were you headed in.." He nods toward the
living cavern.

M'kon acks, and offers his fellow bronzerider a good hard pat on the back.
But he's still very serious.

"'Twill be sure t'be having some of the stronger liquor-stock available,"
Kassi agrees, with somewhat more sympathy. "Good hangover you can be
getting with that. As t'*distraught*, the day you mourn me losing marks is
the day the sun and the moons rise together in the west. Nice outfit, by
the by." Genuine approval there: she does like black and red. Turning, she
calls, "Tas. See the proddy goldrider? See the assembling maleriders? You
figure it out."

Maylia offers her plate of food to Tas, leaning towards him. "A flight?"
She asks. "As in, with you and away from the Weyr, or would it have
something to do with a certain glowing gold?"

Lysseth> Miritha nods, as she tugs at the sleeve of her tunic. "Surely was.
Shall we, then?"

Lysseth> Above, From the Telgar Star Stones, L'klal's burnished bronze
Pteynth rears on hind legs and bugles a greeting to brown Chaedanth and his
rider, Kandri of HighReaches Weyr.

Lysseth> Chaedanth backwings for a landing.

Lysseth> Kandri slides down Chaedanth's side, with a helpful forepaw, to
the ground.

"What?!" explodes D'ton, once he gets his voice back. "Why that..." A
subtle air of menace surrounds the last two words.

Ceria simply listens to the conversations around her as she munches on her
dinner.

Leya finally moves away from the doorway and goes to sit down next to
I'sai, "So how is it here?" She frowns at D'ton, "Is he all right?"

Lysseth> R'lym nods, "Yes, lets." He starts toward hte living cavern,

Saskia ducks her head and concentrates on eating her stew and does her best
to pretend that this is not happening right now.

M'kon startles back two steps. At least he's obviously not the /cause/.
"Twas what she said, Sir...she didn't know the man...but said he was being
right rude and unpleasant...she was pretty offended."

R'lym walks in from the bowl.

I'sai inclines his fair head, "It could happen. ...Harpers make all sorts
of comparisons to suns and such," this with a sideways glance to her
neighbor, safer with that other gaze downturned. "And thanks. It's clean;
it should be keeping me warm." And it's bright and dark at once.

Miritha walks in from the bowl.

Lysseth> Kandri swings down and off Chae's back with eases, landing with
barely a sound. Looking around she takes a moment to take a breath, then
grins. She heads forward now towards the living cavern, before she sees a
familiar head bobbing the same way. "R'lym!" she calls, sprinting into a
run after him.

I'sai adds in a lower murmur to Leya, "Crowded. Sorry I'm no help."
Kandri walks in from the bowl.

Miritha comes in with R'lym, holding back their pace a little so Kandri can
catch up with them.

T'saren might have a fourteen-turn old dragon for a lifemate, but it's a
definite look of surprise that comes to his face as he glances in Saskia's
direction. Then at all the maleriders around. "Oh shells. I should have
*known* he had something in mind when he decided he didn't want me to go
visiting down at Rock's Edge." The Weyrsecond looks vaguely troubled now,
turning to his weyrmate. "Maylia, love, do you think Sol and I should go
somewhere else? Don't need another night like last."

"What did his dragon look like?" D'ton demands of the unfortunate M'kon,
"Lightly built and blond, you say? I'm going to kick his ass!"

Kandri comes in at a light run, catching up to R'lym quickly. Her smile a
little brighter she reaches out to put a hand on the wingleader's shoulder.
"R'lym!" she says again.

Saskia lifts her head long enough to say with suspicious quietness to
Aurian. "The stew's very nice."

Telgar Weyr> D'ton wonders what the Pernese equivalent of 'kick his ass'
might be, but fails to come up with it.

M'kon shakes his head, "She didn't recall...and Tivukath didn't know
him...light, she thought, but maybe with a dark back."

Telgar Weyr> M'kon thinks that's pretty close

Telgar Weyr> T'saren says, "Stuff his bunghole? Cut off his flame? ;)"

Telgar Weyr> Ptodek says, "Drop-kick him *between* in his underwear?"

R'lym turns and sees Kandri, "Oh.. Hello, Kandri...?" he says, 
questioningly.

Aurian mmmms at Saskia, "I would believe you.." She wanders towards the
table and fills a bowl. Her eyes drift to the goldrider again.

Kassima's glance follows I'sai's in that direction. "Suns," she observes,
"are gold." And how's that for inane statement of the Turn. Arise, fair
sun, and kill the envious moon? "Should be? Does that mean 'tisn't,
or--see, Tas, 'tis like 'twas telling you. You're always in time for the
goldflights. But nay starting t'take your pants off in the Cavern this
time, all right?"

Lysseth> Nioth shuffleshuffles and then turns his orientation, to face
towards the opposite direction he was in...as if he were basking in the
summer's sun at Igen. Wings spread slightly, showing off their
ruddy-ribboned streaks through the bronze.

Telgar Weyr> Kassima gets Moxy Fruvous's 'Kick In the Ass' stuck in her
head now. Thanks, D'ton.

Telgar Weyr> M'kon giggles.

Telgar Weyr> Akiko says, "Send thy foot between the doorw-.. I'll be quiet
now."

Kandri chuckles at the wingleaders uncertainty and rolls her eyes. "No, the
names S'din." she teases with a grin. "What are you doing here? Visiting?"
she asks, glancing at the Telgari about in the cavern.

D'ton continues hotly,"And the temerity to go about with our knot on,
giving us a bad name to another Weyr! I'm going to shake his head Between
when I find him!"

Lysseth> Farlioth settles down somewhat as his rider turns away and goes
inside, but the teasing flirtatiousness merely transforms into an excited
restlessness.

Saskia swallows nervously and smiles faintly at Aurian "At least it's not
over Red Butte. And you were right. It did happen, and now after waiting
for it for thre e turns, I wish I could wait a bit more."

"My pants?" T'saren looks decidedly startled at Kassi's reference to his
behavior at Ista, then shakes his head in amusement. "Jays, Kassi, you
remember that? And here I'd hoped everyone had forgotten." A quick glance
in his weyrmate's direction shows exactly who he was hoping had either not
heard, or forgotten about, what he did at Neith's last flight.

M'kon nods, slowly, not quite so aggressive about it as the affronted
rider, "Yessir...I haven't been able to trace him...but I didn't feel right
going traipsing about looking either. At least I mostly cleared your name
at Igen..."

Ceria grins at Kassima and then peers at T'saren.

Miritha glances around too, lifting one hand in its sun-yellow sleeve to
wave a greeting to all the riders. "H'lo," she says, as she flashes a smile
around.

Leya pales and winces at all the talk of goldflights, "Umm, how soon do you
think it'll be? Do I have to time to attempt to drag Tovith off somewhere?"

D'ton's eyes narrow, "Exactly what do they think I did at Igen?" he asks.

Lysseth> Chaedanth ruffles his wings as he lays them back against his hide.
The brown glances thoughtfully at each of the other dragons assembled and
finaly rumbles. His neck twists up and around as he glances to the queen's
ledges. His gaze remains there for a long moment, before he once again
turns to look at the others.

I'sai twitches a glance over one unknotted shoulder as the noise level
rises, as the crowd closes in. "Tell me that wouldn't be till afterward.
Or, in fact, don't - what, Leya? Can't be too much longer, and..." he
trails off, returns the High Reacher's smile with a brief, unsettled nod of
his own.

Aurian pushes her spoon about in her stew. Her eyes trail over Saskia then
back to the stew and the way her spoon makes circles in it.

Kassima points out simply enough, "Tas, since when do I forget aught if'n
it involves malerider humilation. Duties t'Fort and the 'Reaches and their
respective queens," she takes a moment to call towards the entranceway over
the noise of the throng. "Saskia, don't be afraid... you know what t'be
doing. You'll do it. You *can* do it. And Leya... nay a *chance*."

M'kon wavers back a bit, "Well...ah...not so polite and a bad example of a
Telgari rider...sir. But I cleared that up...you're not exactly fair
headed, light eyed, or lightly built."

Kandri grins again at R'lym as she moves past, looking about for someone in
specific. Spotting Aurian she grins and moves over to the Telgarian.
"Aurian! Hello again!" she says cheerily, holding out a hand. Her blue eyes
glance at Saskia and she nods politely to the weyrwoman. "Reaches duties to
telgar and her queens."

Lysseth> Solarith ignores the other suitors, preferring to keep his
whirling gaze focused on Rinath's ledge. Only the twitching tip of of his
long bronze tail betrays his knowledge of how close his competition is to 
him.

Lysseth> Lysseth yawns. Widely. Showing off plenty of teeth. Somehow, she's
just not quite as antsy as various males nearby.

Maylia's sweet smile indicates she likely hadn't forgotten the tales of the
pants incident. "Have some mint peas, love. They're ever so good." She
offers, her tone syrupy.

R'lym chuckles and echo's Kandri's greeting, "High Reaches' duty..." He
walks toward the tables himself, then seeing the weyrwoman, approaches her.

Leya rubs at her forehead and sighs. "I should've asked Malia it I could
stay overnight at the Hall..." she mutters. She nods to arriving riders
from all the various weyrs, trying to dig a smile somewhere for them and
failing miserably.

Aurian blinks and lowers her spoon she takes the offered hand a touch,
"Telgar's duties to the Reaches and her queens.." The brownrider manages to
respond as if by route. She glances back towards the goldrider.

Lysseth> Imagine that. Taralyth stirs, then silences, muzzle lifted to
catch every dream of breeze.

Lanryi walks in from the bowl.

Lysseth> Nioth tilts his head just a slight bit, eyeing Solarith...then
bides his time by grinding his claw against a rough stone. *scree scree
scree* His tail too, twitches.

Kassima draws the bowl of mint peas closer to herself, giving Maylia a
*look*. Her mint peas. "Or mayhaps the smoked salmon and cucumber instead?"
she suggests.

Lysseth> Above, From the Telgar Star Stones, L'klal's burnished bronze
Pteynth rears on hind legs and bugles a greeting to brown Hollerith and his
rider, F'gon of Igen Weyr.

Lysseth> Above, Hollerith BUGLES loudly.

T'saren just snorts in reply to Kassi, then gives a slightly distracted nod
to the arriving riders. Polite greetings now over with, the Weyrsecond
turns his attention back to Saskia, only to get distracted again by his
weyrmate. "I think I'll skip the peas, dearest. I'm likely to have a
bellyful of wine before the night's over, and mint and Benden red don't
exactly mix well."

Saskia nods to Kassima "I'm sure I'll be fine." even as one fist clenches
and she pales slightly. Then looks over at the new arrivals "Telgar's
duties to High Reaches and Fort."

Lysseth> Hollerith backwings for a landing.

Lysseth> Kvasith stretches as he watches things. He twitches his tail from
side to side contentedly. He lies in wait patiently.

Ceria finishes her meal and stands to pour herself some wine. She pauses to
glance at Kassima's bowl off peas. "Those look interesting," she comments.

Lysseth> Chaedanth slowly begins to stretch out his wings and neck, looking
ready to yawn at any moment. Though he doesn't and instead turns about
where he stands and then sits again. The tip of his tail twitches as he
waits for something.

Lysseth> F'gon unstraps himself and discmounts...

Lysseth> Terryll jumps off Hollerith's back with one powerful, agile leap.

Lysseth> F'gon jumps off Hollerith's back with one powerful, agile leap.

"Well, no," agrees D'ton slowly, "I'm not. Well, thank you for bringing
that to my attention, M'kon. I'll see what I can find out about it." There
is a slight pause, then sotto voce, he adds to himself, "Then kick his 
ass."

"Too late, Leya," I'sai says with a sudden burst of cheer. "You'll just
have to make it through with the rest of us. And here," he lifts the
bread-slice in lieu of a headier beverage, "There's my toast on it."

Lysseth> F'gon wanders towards the LC, still distracted.

F'gon walks in from the bowl.

Lanryi strolls into the bowl and waves to familiar faces snagging a mug of
klah on her way to finding a seat.

Terryll walks in from the bowl.

Kandri smiles at Saskia and bobs her head. "I'm Kandri, Brown chaedanth's
rider. It is good to meet you, goldrider." she says, moving her hand to the
weyrwoman this time. Her blue eyes intense as they focus on the woman a
little more than polite company might.

"They are," Kassi agrees, while shovelling a few more into her mouth.
"Delicious, in fact. Are you *sure* 'twill nay bet, any of you? This really
isn't fair. How am I supposed t'be recovering m'marks?"

M'kon bites his lip, as if suddenly he has second thoughts...then steps
back with a nod. "Of course...." That said, he turns back and glances about
the cavern. Only to find his gaze landing on the goldrider without his
permission.

Miritha, in contrast to the tension and other reactions of the other
maleriders, has a spring in her step and is obviously at ease. She responds
to all the greetings to her, coming in several steps closer in Saskia's
direction. Stopping several yards out, she offers the goldrider a smile.
"Fort's duties, Saskia." Head clocking, she observes, "You look a little
ragged around the edges; not expecting it?"

F'gon limps in, a little distracted...he smiles as he walks in. "Ummmm....

Lysseth> Solarith seems to feel the gaze of the other males on him and
turns his head ever so leisurely. Whirling blue eyes focus on Nioth and the
big bronze opens his maw in a slow yawn. Or perhaps it's a snarl of
warning. Hard to tell, since he soon turns back to look at Rinath's ledge
again.

F'gon looks up and sees Saskia...noticing nobody else...even his weyrmate
in tow. He nods to Saskia and mumbles. "Igen's duties, Saskia...."

Saskia looks back at Kandri, her own blue eyes equally intense and
assessing. "Hello" she says a bit too brightly

Terryll follows F'gon, frowning faintly.

Maylia reminds her weyrmate with a soft chuckle, "Dearest, there are other
ways of easing yourself after a flight than wine." Kassi's given a flash of
a grin, then the younger greenrider remarks, "Just as well the bakers
outdid themselves. We'll have a lot to feed, I'd wager."

Lysseth> Nioth gives a quiet, but derisive snort at Solarith, and goes back
to sunning, no less massive than the elder bronze. Old and slow, taunts his
body posture. Flying rock.

Saskia grimaces at Miritha "Yes, expecting a flight, it seems." then turns
to F'gon "Telgar's duties to you."

D'ton abandons his plate, his appetite forgotten. He looks around the room,
his foul mood at the news M'kon's given him only fuelled further by the
unseen tensions.

Leya does manage to give I'sai a wry smile at his 'toast'. "Here, here. To
Tovith not winning." Her wrinkles her nose and winces, "Even though he
doesn't agree."

Lysseth> Hollerith stretches out his wings...the size of a medium-sized
bronze, he stretches them to their full length. Stretching them as if in
preparation for something.

M'kon says abruptly, "Kassima, you're taking bets, right?"

Lysseth> Farlioth spreads his wings again, first the one, then the other;
his gaze passes over the younger dragons thoughtfully, radiating amusement
at their antics.

F'gon sits down on a bench.

M'kon asks something obvious, just to speak aloud.

Lysseth> Kvasith shifts to rub his head against the ground. He rumbles
loudly as he still waits and waits.

Kassima's look to M'kon suggests he might as well have asked whether the
sky is blue or Rinath is rising. "A'course, Myk. You're wanting t'be
placing one?"

Ceria laughs at M'kon's question. "You need to ask?" she teases.

F'gon looks up at Terryll and smiles, a bit of surprise in his eyes....

M'kon nods, and moves towards the greenrider, "Aye..five against."

"You do have a point there," T'saren replies to Maylia with a look very
close to a leer that would rival one of L'cher's. "And I fully intend to
take advantage of that, along with a skin of Benden's best." Brown eyes
seem to have a mind of their own as they flicker to Saskia again briefly.

Lysseth> Kyoteth eases himself slowly out of his relaxed crouch, his own
wings twitching slightly.

Miritha says, with a cheerful smile, "I know. Farlioth said." She glances
around at the maleriders again. "Although, I'd be able to tell even if I
didn't know, walking in."

F'gon mutters to Terryll, "... he's... after a... in... LONG time...I
had...forgotten... I...Thank... for being here..."

Lysseth> Tovith backwings for a landing.

Kandri returns Saskia's bright reply with a bright smile of her own. She
bends over just a bit, as if to bow to the weyrwoman and then stands.
"Would you allow me to refill your drink or get you a new one, weyrwoman?"
she asks Saskia.

R'lym glances at Miritha, then back to Saskia, "Flight...?" He blinks.

Lysseth> Hollerith continues to stretch his wings...

"If you insist," I'sai supposes to Leya, and with a smile, and a lifted
chin to match; softly, softly, "They do crowd. I do wonder how much longer
she'll ...take it."

Terryll, still frowning faintly, lays a hand on F'gon's shoulder.

Saskia looks around at all the brown and bronzeriders with increasing
intensity. She nods to Kandri though it's not clear that she's actually
responding to her.

Kassima clarifies, just for the sake of precision, "Against Nioth." The
bowl of peas is already down, and she's pulling the wager-hide and marking
stick from her satchel. "Or against another?"
F'gon nods to R'lym. And then his gaze returns first to Terryll...and then
to Saskia.

Lysseth> Above, From the Telgar Star Stones, L'klal's burnished bronze
Pteynth rears on hind legs and bugles a greeting to brown Kheveth and his
rider, N'ren of Igen Weyr.

Lanryi,impossible as it seems, finds a corner in the cavern that's not
filled with anxious riders and quietly sips her klah just watching the
mayhem for the moment.

Miritha gives R'lym a slant-eyed look through her lashes. "You still
haven't learned the signs?" Suddenly, the eyes widen and her face lights
up. "N'ren's here!"

M'kon nods, "Aye...might as well make something out of this...he's decided
I'm not leaving."

Lysseth> Chaedanth crouches a little low as well, his wings stretching
towards the heaven's. Their full length and width being spread over his
head and body as he does so. That done he stands again and gives himself a
shake from head to tail. Slowly he goes back into a crouch, tail tip
twitching.

Dragon> Telgar dragons sense that Kheveth bugles a greeting to Pteynth and
the others as he arrives high over the Weyr.

F'gon mutters to Terryll, "... you... Holly... you...if he... just..."

Dragon> Flight sense that Hollerith croons softly to the lovely Gold.

Dragon> Telgar dragons sense that Nioth gives a loud greeting to Kheveth,
but it's far from as pleasant as poor wingtorn's Pteynth.

Leya grins just as wryly back at I'sai's supposing. She shifts a little in
her seat and peer around at all the people crowding around, her shoulders
hunching in a show of tension. "As long I have to be here for it, I hope
it's soon. Get it over with."

F'gon mouths He mutters to Terryll, "... you"  to you.

Lysseth> Solarith might be built like a flying rock, but that would also
mean he's as steady as one of those boulders and thus not likely to be
intimidated by a young upstart like many of the other males here tonight.
Another twitch of that ebon-streaked tail is given, one that's rather close
to the motion taken before defecating, and showing exactly what he thinks
of all the other suitors.

R'lym looks at Miritha, "Of course I've learned the signs. But..." He looks
back at Saskia for a moment, then back to Miritha, "Zyrieth has a mind of
his own.. That had nothing to do with my visit here. LEast not htat I'd
thought."

Dragon> Flight sense that Zyrieth rumbletests.

Dragon> Flight sense that Solarith checks in with a rumble.

Dragon> Telgar dragons sense that Kvasith rumbles drowsily.

Kandri turns and moves to the serving table. Taking up two mugs she pours
juice into each quickly. Just as quickly as that she moves back with the
mugs to Saskia's table and places one mug before the weyrwoman. "There you
are." she says, her voice emphasizing the vowels.

Lysseth> Carabeth keeps to himself in the midst of the others. He does
nothing to draw attention. There's time enough for that later.

Dragon> Flight sense that Nioth checks.

Dragon> Flight sense that Kvasith rumbles his hereness

Dragon> Flight sense that Chaedanth is ready to rock and roll!

Lysseth> Hollerith continues to flex his long wings, readying them, as his
eyes begin whirring a faster purple.

Maylia of course notices her weyrmate's attention waver, that flicker of
his eyes towards Saskia. With a patient expression, the greenrider shrugs.
"Or you might wind up not requiring such soothing." She suggests, 
unperturbed.

I'sai may study the bettors long moments, but then his gaze lifts as from
reflex, those other eyes on him, - and he fumbles to draw the laces of his
tunic more closely about his throat, though he can't quite secure the knot.
"We'll see. -So- many. Is it ... this is supposed to be Telgar, not this
warm at all."

Dragon> Flight sense that Kyoteth honks his presence.

Terryll moves to stand behind her weyrmate, placing both hands on F'gon's
shoulders.

Dragon> Flight sense that Rinath taps the mike If you could start blooding
now, please.

Lysseth> Kheveth backwings for a landing.

F'gon just sits there, quietly, watching Saskia at this point...
Aurian keeps stirring her stew. Her eyes narrowing.

Lysseth> N'ren slides quickly down the brown dragon's back to the ground,
after hugging his shoulder lovingly.

N'ren walks in from the bowl.

Lysseth> Kvasith pauses for a moment then suddenly goes up with a rushing
pump of air.

Lysseth> Nioth gives a sudden, agressive shriek, and leaps for the skies
without his usual ungainly flopping.

Lysseth> Kvasith takes flight, using the thermals rising from the bowl to
carry him aloft.

Lysseth> Nioth takes flight, using the thermals rising from the bowl to
carry him aloft.

Lysseth> Above, Kvasith flies towards the north end of the bowl.

Lysseth> Farlioth takes flight, using the thermals rising from the bowl to
carry him aloft.

Lysseth> Above, Nioth flies towards the north end of the bowl.

Lysseth> Hollerith begins to look around...and leaps up.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Kvasith flies downward towards the feeding grounds.

Lysseth> Hollerith takes flight, using the thermals rising from the bowl to
carry him aloft.

Kassima chuckles faintly at that. "All right. 'Twill put you in the pool
rather than a personal bet, Myk, if'n 'tis all right; five marks is too
high a stake against a single dragon for m'love of the odds. Is... 'tis a
flight thing. Nay help for it."

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Nioth flies downward towards the feeding grounds.

Lysseth> Chaedanth lumbers north.

Lysseth> Above, Hollerith flies towards the north end of the bowl.

Lysseth> Taralyth's lifted muzzle shades paler along his neck, shades
deeper into the muscle that leads to his leap once the skies are clear
enough to suit.

Telgar-Bowl> Chaedanth springs into the air for a quick flight over the
fence and into the feeding grounds, where he settles again.

Lysseth> Kheveth is only down long enough to drop his rider off, and away
he goes.

Lysseth> Taralyth takes flight, using the thermals rising from the bowl to
carry him aloft.

T'saren comes back to himself at the sound of his weyrmate's voice and
grimaces. "Possibly, but I wouldn't put any marks on it. Sol hasn't one a
flight in a wherry's age." His eyes shadow suddenly, and turn towards the
bowl entrance. "But then again..."

Lysseth> Carabeth carefully joins the others in the skies.

Lysseth> Solarith takes flight, using the thermals rising from the bowl to
carry him aloft.

Miritha chortles at R'lym, turning expectantly towards the entrance and
holding out a hand towards N'ren. "Hello, N'ren. Fancy meeting you here."
White shows again as she smiles.

D'ton looks around, glowering at all the men with light hair, for some
reason. "Too sharding crowded," he says, going over to get himself some 
wine.

M'kon gives an abrupt shudder, and doesn't hear the rest of what Kassima
says. He just nods to her, and turns pale green eyes towards Saskia.

Lysseth> Above, Farlioth flies towards the north end of the bowl.

Lysseth> Above, Solarith flies towards the north end of the bowl.

Lysseth> Carabeth takes flight, using the thermals rising from the bowl to
carry him aloft.

Lysseth> Kyoteth takes flight, using the thermals rising from the bowl to
carry him aloft.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Hollerith flies downward towards the feeding grounds.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Solarith flies downward towards the feeding grounds.

Lysseth> Above, Carabeth flies towards the north end of the bowl.

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Kvasith lands hard and swiftly on a
herdbeast. The beast breaking beneath him. Blood flows from the broken
animal as the brown starts to bend down to suckle the crimson from the
formerly living creature.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Farlioth flies downward towards the feeding grounds.

Lysseth> Above, Kyoteth flies towards the north end of the bowl.

N'ren makes his way into the room, and smiles at Miritha, "Kheveth was
insistent. Good to see you as well."

Lysseth> Kheveth takes flight, using the thermals rising from the bowl to
carry him aloft.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Carabeth flies downward towards the feeding grounds.

F'gon nods to N'ren abstractedly. "So was Holly..."

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Kyoteth flies downward towards the feeding grounds.

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Kyoteth flies over the feeding grounds
from above the bowl.

Aurian drops her spoon into the bowl. "Kvasith...."

Lysseth> Above, Taralyth cuts no corners, just now, cruising a long and
bright-winged sweep around his Weyr's bowl with his first destination clear
before.

Lysseth> Above, Taralyth flies towards the north end of the bowl.

Lysseth> Above, Kheveth flies towards the north end of the bowl.

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Nioth slams into a pale running
herdbeast and maims it on his way down, raking teeth across throat in a
fluid motion before he's even stopped

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Kheveth flies downward towards the feeding grounds.

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Hollerith flies over the herd...and
lands on a herdbeast, expertly snapping its neck with his pounce...he
begins to lap up the blood from the doned animal, slurping loudly as he
crouches protectively over it...as if daring another dragon to partake of
his same feast.

Lysseth> Tovith takes flight, using the thermals rising from the bowl to
carry him aloft.

Lysseth> Above, Tovith flies towards the north end of the bowl.

F'gon eyes widen and he just tenses.

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Chaedanth glides in without a sense of
urgency, yet, and takes to gliding over the grounds. His eyes have the
lightest tinges of red at the edges whilst he views the herds bellow. As
they scatter about at his shadow and the arrivals of the others he takes
his picks. Dropping with ease upon the back of an unsuspecting buck, talons
ripping into the fragile flesh. As the beast is downed he turns to watch
the others a moment. Then the hunger begeins to nag and he leans down to
latch upon the animal's neck.

F'gon whispers. "Blood only...blood only...."

Miritha smiles at N'ren. "Farlioth just said, 'Let's go to Telgar.' I said,
'Who?', he said, while I was dressing, 'Rinath.'"

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Nioth drinks from the font thus
raised, wings fluttering exhaltedly from his back.

D'ton empties his wineglass in one long swallow, his gaze suddenly distant.

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Carabeth joins the others in the
crowded feeding pens and pounces quickly onto a herdbeast, slashing its
throat with a claw. He immediately fastens his mouth to the wound,
ingesting the ruby liquid.

"And away we go," Kassima observes, probably needlessly. Rolling up the
scroll, she comments to Maylia--sister greenrider amongst the malerider
crowd--"This one should be interesting t'watch. Wouldn't you say?"

Aurian tilts her head as she gazes at Saskia, she doesn't speak. Her eyes
unfocused as she watches the goldrider.

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Hollerith is about to rip a huge chunk
of meat off...he throws his head up...bugles, and then returns to continue
to drink only...

Ceria stiffens suddenly and her gaze travels toward the bowl.

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Solarith plummets down onto an
unsuspecting bovine bull, raking the creature from head to tail with
knife-sharp talons. The bull has time to bellow exactly once before all
sound is cut from the poor animal's throat by a maw full of deadly dragon
teeth. The big bronze bugles his prowess to the skies, then drinks deeply
of the lust-feuling blood within the carcass.

Lysseth> Zyrieth takes flight, using the thermals rising from the bowl to
carry him aloft.

N'ren snorts quietly, "They really are transparent at times, aren't they?"

F'gon's eyes are unfocused, and his body is tense...

Lysseth> Above, Zyrieth flies towards the north end of the bowl.

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Farlioth banks into a slow circle,
snagging not one but two bucks and dropping with them down to the ground.
Both are dead by the time he hits; he lowers a muzzle to one while leaving
his claw entangled in the other.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Zyrieth flies downward towards the feeding grounds.

Kandri blinks a moment and her blue eyes narrow a touch. Slowly the line of
her lips draws thin as concentration of somewher else becomes evident. Her
hands squeeze about themselves, nails digging into flesh. "Blood..." she
whispers to the air, her voice husky.

Terryll just stands quietly behind F'gon, hands on his shoulders.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Taralyth stoops in a long plummet that owes its grace
to efficiency: down, down, and -

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Taralyth flies downward towards the feeding grounds.

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, - and _down_, a wherry's death throes'
flutter occluding talons and muzzle in a burst of flung plumes. Taralyth
drinks, low and fast and strong.

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Hollerith continues to slurp up the
last of the blood, letting the warm red fuel fire up his power to
chase...his wings stretching to their full length while he sits there,
draining che carcass dry....

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Kheveth descends to an equitable
landing, snapping head around to catch a fleeing 'beast. Not like there's
much place to run with this many dragons around.

Leya nods to I'sai, tugging at the neck of her tunic, "It is h... Oh..."
She closes her eyes and sighs again.

Lysseth> Above, Tovith flies towards the north end of the bowl.

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Kvasith tosses away the drained
corpse. His eyes gleaming with his hunger. His great maw stained with vivid
red. He snakes about the pen snatching at a bovine with ravenous hunger.
Blood slakes his thirst as the still dying beast cries out.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Tovith flies downward towards the feeding grounds.

Miritha murmurs, "Showoff." Her voice is tremendously fond as she speaks,
and her eyes not quite focused. Her voice lifts a little. "Oh, he wasn't
transparent. He and I have an understanding about such things, we do."

F'gon whispers. "Damn you, Hollerith. Blood only. I don't care how long its
been." His voice is stern despite the whisper.

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Zyrieth soars into the feeding ground
in a fury, quickly flying down a big herdbeast and snapping its nack,
landing imediately to drink in the fount of lifeblood from the wound.

Saskia rises to her feet and carefully sets down her spoon. She takes a
deep breath. "And so it begins." she says to no-one in particular then
hurries outside.

Saskia walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Kyoteth brutally rips his claws into
the back of a sweet looking herdbeast with large soulful eyes. The
herdbeast is torn nearly in half, such that its head falls towards its
legs, eyes still staring soulfully up at its destroyer.

Leya walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Nioth flings his drained beast away
and waits...saves his energy for the stampede that will drive another into
his talons. He hasn't long to wait as another flees foolishly into his
waiting claws. It dies silently, his jaws fixed upon it as his eyes turn
into whirling amethysts in the dark Telgar night.

I'sai swallows once, in the sudden heat - and is swift to discard what's
left of his crust, leaving but crumbs behind.

I'sai walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.

R'lym stops and stands straight, eyes unfocused, mind elsewhere. Without
comment, he follows Saskia to hte bowl

R'lym walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.

D'ton walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.

Ceria walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Hollerith looks up and pounces on a
herdbeast as it runs by, driven away from another dragon's wrath. He deftly
slices open the neck and begins to drink the blood from the creatures as it
the last of its life seeps from its eyes...

F'gon stands suddenly and walks out.

M'kon walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Kheveth bends his sienna man to the
throat of the beast. No questions, no resistance. Throat is ripped out,
spewing blood into the air. That, in turn, is quickly caught. Mouth suckers
the rest away, and the bloodless body is flung, high in the air, over his
back.

T'saren doesn't give voice to the admonishment of 'blood' as some of the
other maleriders are doing. Maybe because his lifemate is experienced
enough with pre-flight antics, or possibly because his full attention is
now on Saskia's backside as she walks out. Whatever the case might be, he's
quickly on his feet and trailing after the goldrider.

Dragon> Rinath bespoke Flight with << If you're not yet in the feeding
grounds, please page me. Also please page me if you want to win. If you
don't, you need do nothing, just sit back and RP. :) >>

F'gon limps heavily.

T'saren walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.

Aurian walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.

N'ren just shakes his head and goes out.

N'ren walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.

F'gon walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.

Miritha's lips quirk as she too heads out into the Bowl.

Miritha walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.

Terryll walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Carabeth finishes his first blood and
chooses another creature to provide his sustenance. With a quick twitch, he
snaps the neck of another herdbeast and starts in on it.

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Tovith drops right into the feeding
grounds from above, out of my way, coming through. Snagging a herdbeast in
his claws on his ways down, it's head off and the blood pouring into his
mouth by time he's on the ground. That's what he calls fast food.

Lysseth> On Rinath's ledge, Rinath emerges, her bright glow bathed in
moonlight, her neck arched playfully, ready to begin this new game. She
stretches seductively with all the sensuality of an unflown gold.

Lysseth> M'kon comes out, more slowly than the rest, if not less willingly.
A hand, idly undoing the thonging of his tunic as if already it were too
hot. Until the huge white shirt flutters around his arms like a pair of
wings of his own, in the cool night. Cool enough to help him concentrate.

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Kyoteth sucks the blood from his
herdbeast with great force. He spits out the the beast's heart as it is
drawn towards his mouth, and flings the rest of the carrion aside with his
claws. Casting about with his eyes, he seeks his second target.

Lysseth> Aurian reaches into her pocket with an idle gesture. In her hand a
flask is soon pulled, the young wingleader watches the dragons wearily. She
takes a slow swallow of brandy as she rolls her head about on her 
shoulders.

Lysseth> F'gon undoes the top button of his tunic, as well. Looking up at
the Gold....then down at Saskia again.

Lysseth> Above, Rinath leaps from Rinath's Ledge and flies into the air.

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Hollerith drains the last of his 2nd
beast and tosses the carcass away, looking around for his quarry....

Lysseth> Above, Rinath flies towards the north end of the bowl.

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Taralyth tosses his dark head with a
peculiar playfulness amidst the passion, sending his wherry-corpse flying
as if its wings hadn't been torn to bone - and for all that its landing's a
bonecrushing thud against the fence.

Lysseth> Ceria shifts her eyes between the direction of the feeding grounds
and Saskia's form in front of her. She's not quite certain where to focus.

Kandri walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.

Lysseth> N'ren just sighs, leaning against the wall. He shakes his head
quietly, and looks at Saskia, then back towards the feeding grounds. He
obviously can't see his dragon, but can certainly feel him.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Rinath flies downward towards the feeding grounds.

Lysseth> Miritha comes to a halt beside N'ren, lips still twitching in
amusement. The light mood is, apparently, no less a response than the
tension of the others; certainly the look she gives Saskia now is
interested rather than her earlier casual glance.

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Rinath looks up at the sky longingly,
but the lowing of the herdbeasts below calls to her more strongly and she
lands dead center in the feeding grounds. Nothing can stop her now.
Terrified herdbeasts stampede out of the way as Rinath sits for a moment
and her head swivels slowly looking around as though she hasn't quite
decided she is going to rise.

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Hollerith backs away, eyes whirling
rapidly, as he watches the Gold descend....and stares with hunger in his
eyes...his purple eyes intense as he watches and croons to the Gold.

Lysseth> Saskia brushes by several riders as she rushes over to the central
bowl

Lysseth> Saskia walks north.

Lysseth> R'lym walks toward the spot where Saskia stands, his arms warpped
tightly across his chest. He's seen this many time, yet never has found the
experience anything but intense.

Lysseth> R'lym walks north.

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Solarith drains his first kill very
quickly, as if he's been stuck in a desert forever and now getting his
first taste of that neccesary little thing called water. With another
bugle, this time intended for the lovely form of Rinath instead of the
other suitors, he whips his bloody head around, flinging crimson droplets
everywhere as he searches for his next victim. A wherry buck catches the
eye of the bronze and is quickly dispatched with a negligent swipe of 
talons.

Lysseth> F'gon follows saskia...

Lysseth> F'gon walks north.

Lysseth> T'saren walks north.

Lysseth> Kandri walks north.

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Carabeth moves his attention from the
herdbeast he's consuming to the glowing gold who joins them in the feeding
grounds. He watches to see what she will do next.

Lysseth> Terryll walks north.

Lysseth> Ceria walks north.

Lysseth> N'ren walks north.

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Kvasith rumbles a bugle towards the
arriving gold. Kvasith takes to the air over the feeding grounds, his
sinewy body hovering upon wings of umber, waiting for just the right
moment. As a beast separates from the pounding, frantic, herds, he sees his
opportunity, and descends in a rush of sandstorm brown. Talons make first
contact, sinking into the flesh of the buck, then all is concealed by the
darkness of wingshadow, violet glowing eyes visible above wingspars as
Kvasith bloods another kill.

Lysseth> Miritha walks north.

Lysseth> Aurian walks north.

Telgar-Bowl> F'gon sits down on a rock...watching Saskia carefully....a
glance every now and then to the Feeding grounds...but his eyes are
clouded. Clearly he's looking with other eyes...

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Nioth throws the second drained husk
away, and then spreads his wings wide and huffs at the gold softly, head
twisting to the side as he eyes her first with one huge orb and then the
other... His huffs become a low, soft, undulating croon.

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Kheveth freezes in place upon the
approach of golden Rinath. Then, striking like a tunnelsnake, a large
wherry finds its death in the maw of the brown dragon. Crunch. Suck. Throw.
Scratch one large wherry.

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Zyriethfinishes with his first 'beast
with a roar, he leaps into the air and quickly flies downs a second beast,
this time breaking its neck with teeth, drinking in the blood as it flows
from the very start.

Telgar-Bowl> Terryll moves to stand by F'gon, laying a hand on his shoulder
again.

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Hollerith croons deep in his
throat...as he sits on his haunches...waiting...his brown hide radiant, his
wings spread as if ready for anything.

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Chaedanth lifts his head from his
first kill and lets loose with a clear and ringing bugle to the skies. As
it dies, though, so does another beast to his ferocious rampage. Half
trampled, the animal breathes it's last when Chaedanth fixes powerful jaws
about the throat. This second kill is also quickly dealt with, it's
life-blood sucked dry. As the animals lies dead and sallow on the ground
the brown looks around the grounds full of dragons...and the golden queen
Rinath. As his claws find another victim his voice rings out in a croon to
the golden lady.

Kassima watches the last few maleriders trickle out of the Caverns before,
without word, abandoning mint peas totally to wander out towards Stores.
And when she returns, it's with a young serving lad lugging a whole case of
wine rather than with any mere armful. "I'm going out to the Bowl t'watch
as soon as it clears a bit," she remarks, signalling poor Petey to set the
crate down somewhere. "What of you lot?"

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Farlioth lifts his muzzle to watch
Rinath, blood dripping unheeded onto the grounds. After a moment, the claw
negligently lodged in the second of his herdbeasts is freed, spattering
gobbets of meat around, and he fastens his jaws on the new prey's neck 
avidly.

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Taralyth claims a young, doe-eyed and
spindly-legged herdbeast with one paw's taloned swipe, and then sinks back
to his haunches in a tumult of dark, sparked wings - and of blue-diamond
eyes that focus on Rinath alone, even as he waits for her. Drinks for her,
the blood filling his throat, the red filling his eyes to deepest violet.

Lysseth> I'sai walks north.

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Hollerith lets the blood from his own
maw drip onto the ground, clearly less worried about manners and more on
the beautiful Gold in front of him.

Telgar-Bowl> T'saren follows after Saskia as if he were a puppy on a
string, ale brown eyes on her alone. Because of this, the Weyrsecond almost
ends up on his knees after stumbling over one of the numerous rocks in the
bowl, but he quickly catches himself and mutters softly, shaking his head
in annoyance.

Telgar-Bowl> Aurian sips her brandy as she watches the dragons, "Good job
love.."

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Rinath abruptly and savagely leaps
upon a young buck. Massive claws rake into the glossy hide cutting through
to the white bone. Her nostrils quiver at the scent of heated flesh and she
opens her massive jaws over the soft tender underbelly. The herdbeast
struggles futilely for a moment and then freezes in shock.

Telgar-Bowl> Ceria moves with the others, following Saskia. Her attention,
like Carabeth's, is focused on the object of desire.

Lysseth> M'kon walks north.

Telgar-Bowl> Kandri follows after the others, her head high and proud even
as her lips are taught and in a thin line. Her blue eyes find Saskia among
the crowd and remain locked on her form, even as her lifemate's own eyes do
now.

Telgar-Bowl> Saskia steps closer to the feeding grounds, away from the
other riders, closes her eyes and clenches her fists. "No, Rinath. Blood,
blood." She says almost as a chant.

Telgar-Bowl> F'gon whispers..."Blood..."

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Hollerith bugles something to the
Gold...watching...waiting...

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Kyoteth snaps the neck of a fleeing
wherry and lifts it off the ground in one motion by clamping his jaws down
upon its neck. He shakes it violently as if trying to display his kill to
the newly arrived Rinath, then drains it dry after using one claw to
rearrange its position in his mouth.

Lysseth> D'ton walks north.

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, As golden Rinath arrives. Zyrieth
lifts his head and TRUMPETS loudly, challengingly to the other males and to
the lovely Queen! He lifts his great wings, furling and unfurling them in
anticipation, flexing his great muscles. He is ready. He is Zyrieth.

Telgar-Bowl> M'kon trails the crowd, and stays on its outskirts, watching
the others...then his gaze turns inward and he watches the dragons as they
rut, display, vocalize, court. A bloody thing, the mating of dragons, and
very unlike him in nature. And as unlike draws to unlike, he's fascinated
with it, rumbles with the other human voices, but under his breath.

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Hollerith ignores the other
dragons...eyes focused hungrily on the Gold, almost possessively, as they
continue to whirl a violent purple. His muscular wings ripple,

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Hollerith stretches them out to his
full 64+ meter wingspan...and then pulls them in...showing off for the
Gold, as he readies himeslf...focused on his prize.

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Kheveth crouches, wings half-unfurled
in readiness. Silent, the dragon awaits the launch of the Queen, so that he
may persue. And possibly catch her.

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Kvasith lifts his head, and the
shadowy curtain of his wings falls back, revealing the drained carcass of
his kill resting in a darkened patch of ground. He hesitates, fixated upon
the form of the glowing Rinath, before flinging himself after another kill.
This time a wherry falls before his talons, the rest of the brown's body
flowing in one smooth motion upon it. Greedily, he releives the avian of
its blood, this time not allowing a single droplet to touch the ground. He
only pauses to hiss at the near males, his teeth stained with red.

Lanryi grins, "I'll probably head out. I was just enjoying our moment of
calm with the rush of riders gone." she adds with an extra smile, "That's
an awful lot of wine for someone who can't drink any."

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Taralyth's wings flare up higher,
higher, as if in some invisible wind - or perhaps it's just the queen's
heightened musk, the kill she chooses. When he drinks again from his
beast's throat, the torn cartilage beneath the flesh, it's with an obscure
gentleness to the claiming. And he watches still.

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, A sinister growl comes soon after the
Brown chaedanth's croon, his eyes whirling the lusty purple mixed with red.
The growl originates from a bronze that has sidled too close to himself.
The younger dragon seems to take the hint and backs off from the fiersome
Reachian one. The one problem taken care of, Chaedanth soon finds another
to catch his fancy. A paniced and fleeing ovine bull, which conveniently
runs straight into his claws. The brown toys with the animal a moment,
letting it's death linger on ebony talons. As the bleating of the animal
slowly fades off, Chaedanth rips the head from the body. The fount of blood
that spews forth is soon capped by the brown's already crimson colored maw.

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Tovith tosses the remains of the
herbeast aside, bouncing off another brown to land a bronzes feet. He
croons sweetly up at Rinath, the tone incongruent with the blood dripping
down from his maw. Another herdbeast panic and runs against his side. He
twists around and bites it angrily in half for disturbing his revelry in
Rinath, that doesn't stop him from draining it of it's lifeblood though.

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Rinath screeches her defiance even as
she lowers her head to crunch the buck's neck. Blood flows, staining the
wisps of blue on her muzzle. Her long tongue snakes out to lick the last
few precious drops and then with a gleam in her brightly whirling eyes, she
tosses the drained herdbeast at a cluster of dragons nearby.

Kassima blinks at the familiar voice, and turns with a smile. "Lanryi,
g'deve! Forgive me for nay greeting you earlier, lass--the crush in
here...." Her eyes roll towards the ceiling. "Well, *you* saw. Here t'be
seeing Ryi and Ysaira? You've certes picked an interesting time for it. And
'tisn't for me, 'tis for the losing maleriders. They'll need *plenty*."

Telgar-Bowl> Aurian takes another long swig of her brandy. She watches the
gold with more than a hint of her own dragon's hunger.

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Solarith gulps down the wherry's blood
much more slowly than he did with the bovine's, eyes that are rapidly
taking on a violet hue focused on the gold as fixatedly as his rider's are
on Rinath's rider. With a soft, rumbling croon, the Benden-shelled bronze
lowers his head to her, acknowledging her preeminence and beauty for a
moment before crouching the rest of his body down to wait for the
inevitable flight to commence.

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Kheveth crouches lower yet, eyes
tinging purple and increasing in speed. Still, he sounds out not, except
perhaps for an impatient rustling of black-scored sienna wings.

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Farlioth draws back from the herdbeast
he's just himself emptied, letting the thrown one land without a reaction.
His wings spread, slow rather than swift, a stretching and a showing-off of
the rich coloring of his hide.

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Carabeth bloods one more beast, still
attempting to keep his eyes on the glowing glory before him.

Telgar-Bowl> Saskia focuses on Rinath hugging herself protectively and
staring out with unseeing eyes towards the feeding grounds.

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Nioth hisses, growls, rumbles, /boils/
with a soft but deep sound as he dodges the thrown husk of herdbeast, then
crowds another into a bad spot as he crouches and waits with fixated eyes.

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Kyoteth removes the husk of the wherry
from between his jaws almost daintily, with one of his claws. He flings it
to one side and doesn't look to see where it goes, even though that's
directly in front of Nioth. His eyes are fixed, entranced and drawn to 
Rinath.

Telgar-Bowl> I'sai draws in a long breath, the last of the fresh mountain
air, for even now it stills and thickens with the taste of blood and musk.
Even now; and he keeps his edgy place, his silence, not so much as looking
at Saskia - much less the others, nor any but his dragon in those crowded
pens - but with that neck-prickling awareness all the same. Not Red Butte
at all.

Telgar-Bowl> Ceria shifts a bit from foot to foot, her eyes darting from
Saskia to the feeding grounds. They linger longest on the queenrider, but
she gives scant attention to the surrounding riders as well.

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Zyrieth notices a wherry take the
mistaken path of right near him. No more! He lashed out quickly and drinks
deep of the wherry's blood. With another ROAR of challenge and
anticipation, he tosses the wherry aside toward a nearby Brown.

Telgar-Bowl> "That's it, make her blood only," T'saren murmurs as he takes
a single step towards the goldrider, growing lust making him uncaring, or
perhaps just unaware, that he already has a weyrmate and she's not Saskia.
"She has to listen to you."

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Chaedanth sucks greedily at the
opening where the ovine's head used to be. His eyes slowly loosing their
prominent red and giving way to a more lustful violet. As the flow from the
wound ceases and he is forced to suck harder and harder for the nurishment,
the brown finaly releases the limp corpse. Watching it lay limp for only a
moment it is forgotten at the glimpse of a luminescent form. Drawing
himself up now, the brown finds his scarlet and magenta gaze locked upon
Rinath. Not a sound escapes him, even as his wings snap out and at the
ready preparing for lift off.

Telgar-Bowl> N'ren hovers in back, probably near the older Fortian
brownrider. He looks almost complacent, though his interest is, indeed,
focused on the Queen's rider, Saskia.

Lanryi nods, "Of course now would be the time I would have to visit, just
in time to find a swarm of hormone-crazed riders." and with a grin says,
"But I did get to see Ysaira and she looks just beautiful."

Telgar-Bowl> R'lym closes his eyes for a moment, then reopens them. He
stands with his arms wrpped tightly around him, fairly close to where
Saskia stands, watching the weyrwoman with his eyes, but his mind on the
scene in the feeding grounds.

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Rinath needs no other instruction for
instinct has overtaken her. She quickly pounces on another herdbeast and
sucks its blood, tossing it again at those who dare to be near her. As the
heartbeat of the herdbeast fades, its rhythm seems to pulsate within her.
The amber of her torso glows a deep burnished orange while the emerald
sparkles brilliantly as she spreads her shimmering sky blue wings and
launches into the air.

Telgar-Bowl> D'ton steps in front of T'saren, his earlier unfocused
antagonism flourishing in the current atmosphere. "She doesn't need you to
tell her that," he says, "Or do you think you're her father?"

Telgar-Bowl> F'gon just sits there, quietly. As if he's done this a
thousand times. The only betrayal of any feeling at this point is his eyes,
as clouded as they might be, locked on Gold Rinalth's Rider Saskia....

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Rinath rises up from the feeding grounds.

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Kvasith tosses away the last of his
kill. He crouches down almost to the ground. His amber tinged wingsails
mantleing as his body tenses in preperation for the moment that will take
him to the air and after the gold. Every muscle and every instinct are
locked upon Rinath and her savage movements. He challenges the other males
with a menacingly low growl. His tongue laps up the few droplets that stain
his muzzle, perhaps in mimicry of the golden beauty so achingly near. The
brown stretches and snaps at a nearby bronze.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Nioth rises up from the feeding grounds.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Kheveth rises up from the feeding grounds.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Taralyth rises up from the feeding grounds.

Telgar-Bowl> Kandri moves closer in among the crowded bodies, trying to
draw herself closer to the weyrwoman's side. At last she is stopped by the
sheer press of bodies and remains where she is. Her eyes are on Saskia and
not, the processing of her mind in two.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Hollerith rises up from the feeding grounds.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Kvasith rises up from the feeding grounds.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Solarith rises up from the feeding grounds.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Chaedanth rises up from the feeding grounds.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Kyoteth rises up from the feeding grounds.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Zyrieth rises up from the feeding grounds.

Telgar-Bowl> Saskia lets out a soft sigh as she gazes upwards then she
turns and marches towards her weyr.

Telgar-Bowl> Saskia walks south.

Telgar-Bowl> R'lym walks south.

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Carabeth takes flight, using the
thermals rising from the bowl to carry him aloft -- much to the relief of
the wherries.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Carabeth rises up from the feeding grounds.

Telgar-Bowl> Ceria walks south.

Telgar-Bowl> I'sai walks south.

Telgar-Bowl> Kandri walks south.

Telgar-Bowl> D'ton walks south.

Telgar-Bowl> Aurian doesn't take a moment but runs.

Telgar-Bowl> Aurian walks south.

Telgar-Bowl> F'gon walks south.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Hollerith chases after the Gold, his wings propelling
him rapidly, close in the running, as he lets a croon escape his lips, and
a bugle to the Gold.

Telgar-Bowl> Terryll walks south.

Telgar-Bowl> T'saren winces at D'ton's comment, but only glares at the
rider as he follows Saskia to her weyr.

Telgar-Bowl> T'saren walks south.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Kheveth is among the first dragons off the ground, not
unusual considering that he was waiting. But, this is strange. He is not
straining after the Queen! No. In fact, the dragon turns to the side,
coasting into a thermal created by the terrain shift from land to water. He
spreads his wings, allowing them to fill with this air.

Telgar-Bowl> N'ren walks south.

Telgar-Bowl> Miritha's hand, curled slightly into a hook while Farlioth
blooded the first herdbeast, opens as he removes his claw from the other.
Still with that faint smile on her lips, she stands with her weight on the
balls of her feet, an echo of Farlioth as the brown crouches. She takes a
step forward as he springs upwards, catching herself gracefully at the
unconscious movement.

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Farlioth takes flight, using the
thermals rising from the bowl to carry him aloft -- much to the relief of
the wherries.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Farlioth rises up from the feeding grounds.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Nioth flings himself after, one of the first into the
air after the gold, and intent on using his bulk to block the rest from a
chance at her. Ever. Huge red-touched wings grab hold of the wind and force
it to take him higher after the lust-driven queen-of-beasts.

Telgar-Bowl> M'kon walks south.

Telgar-Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Tovith takes flight, using the
thermals rising from the bowl to carry him aloft -- much to the relief of
the wherries.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Tovith rises up from the feeding grounds.

Telgar-Bowl> Miritha walks south.

Kassima dips her chin agreeably. "Even though methinks she got that beak of
I'sai's, aye. The blonde hair alone will likely make her a stunner." Her
eyes wander back towards the Bowl. "Ah," she murmurs. "Lysseth says they're
aloft, now--riders going up to the weyr. Should be safe enough t'be going
out and watching, if'n you want t'stay t'be seeing who the next clutch-sire
is?"

Guest Weyr> M'kon steps in from the ledge letting the gold curtain fall 
behind him.

Guest Weyr> R'lym walks in and plants himself up against a wall, still 
'hugging' himself, and concentrating on the scene outside.

Guest Weyr> Ceria steps in from the ledge letting the gold curtain fall 
behind her.

Guest Weyr> N'ren steps in from the ledge letting the gold curtain fall 
behind him.

Guest Weyr> Miritha steps in from the ledge letting the gold curtain fall 
behind her.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Hollerith looks up at Kheveth for a moment and lets out
a bugle of challenge, and leans over, cutting off some of the thermal that
Kheveth is rising on, "stealing his wind" somewhat, as he catches the edge,
and rises in the same general direction as the Gold...gaining height...

Guest Weyr> Kandri steps in from the ledge letting the gold curtain fall 
behind her.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Rinath soars effortlessly into the night sky, her
autumn-maize hue lit by Timor's full moon and her own incandescent glow.
She reigns over those males who dare to chase below her, but she spares a
glance for them. Her neck arches against in a devil-may-care attitude.
Whatever happens, she will win this game, and perhaps she might allow a
worthy contender to win with her.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Zyrieth beats his great wings against the air, working
to gain speed and altitude as quickly as his powerful wings can muster.
Higher, higher, faster, faster. He flies hard and strong following the
beautiful Golden Rinath. He trumpets his challenge to the others.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Taralyth catapults high for the skies, as swift as
clean-muscled haunches and a surge of wings permit him on the crowded,
thickened winds: blocked for long moments indeed, efficiency sharpens his
route, daring to angle between earlier chasers: there, -there-,
light-winged with his fancy still free.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Chaedanth is quick to launch skywards, the blood of
four kills surging in his gullet. Drawing on it's strength for the initial
lift off, he slowly tapers off usuing the precious energy and lets th
telgarian thermals do the rest. His wings spread to their maximum width, he
pumps one...twice and one again. The hot air lifting him higher into the
night sky. Reaching an approvable altitude he veers off into a more
straight line course after the maiden. His wings sweeping forward and back,
drawing the winds past him easily.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Kvasith takes to the air his wings pushing hard and
strong. The amber sails billowing as they fill with the winds that will
carry him towards the shining creature of gilt. He arches and twists
against the sky. He is trying to ensure that he will the the closest at all
times to the gold and her beauty.

Guest Weyr> F'gon steps in from the ledge letting the gold curtain fall 
behind him.

Guest Weyr> Terryll steps in from the ledge letting the gold curtain fall 
behind her.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Carabeth rises with the others, in pursuit of the gold
who is lit up by the moon as well as her own glow. He bugles brassily to
announce his presence in the pursuit. His wings are spread wide as he
endeavors to make the most of the wind patterns.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Tovith leaps into the air after all the others, beating
his broad, powerful against the resisting air in an effort to fix that. He
rides the changing currents of air, dipping and soaring with them, but
using them all the same to rise after his burning sun, the golden ligh that
he longs for.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Solarith springs into the skies a moment behind Rinath,
but finds himself already near the middle of the pack of suitors. With an
annoyed hiss, the bronze banks to the left, perhaps hoping the male located
there will give ground to his much larger size. When the brown there
slashes out at Solarith, the bronze hisses again and maintains his spot in
the midst of everything, depending instead on thermals that will carry him
up in pursuit of Rinath.

Guest Weyr> Saskia backs against the wall, as her lips part and her hands 
drift upwards towards her dragon.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Kheveth falters slightly at the stealing of some of his
wind, but makes up for it by banking more into the thermal and *away* from
the path the Queen is taking. As a result, his height increases all the
faster, but the Queen gets farther away. Who knows what will be the end
result, though.

Guest Weyr> Kandri pauses a moment at the entrance, then ducks to the side 
and further in. Weaving around people and furniture, trying to find a  
suitable place to await the outcome. An opening against the wall catches 
her blue eyes as the brownrider quietly slips agains tthe curve of the 
stone. Before her is an un-adulterated view of the goldrider and a clear 
path to her.

Lanryi says, "I should be staying for a day or so more, I don't have a good
enough reason to visit very often so I'll want to take advantage of my
chance. And, if it's safe, I think we should head out there."

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Farlioth springs into the air easily, but takes his
time in establishing a position - like Kheveth, he reaches for height
rather than nearness, just yet.

Guest Weyr> M'kon shrugs his tunic down off his shoulders and into his  
elbows...then leans against the cold stone wall as if he needed it to 
quench the heat of his dragon above. Locks his eyes on Saskia...and waits 
at his distance.

Guest Weyr> Aurian takes another swallow of the brandy she has. The apple 
scent filling her nostrils ut all unoticed as she watches the goldrider.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Kyoteth dances his way through the gusty air, threading
amidst the wing-blown drafts caused by his competitors. He is utterly
silent and seems to slide between the changeable breezes, very much unlike
his usual self as he seeks to close with and pace the vision of gold above
him.

Guest Weyr> Ceria presses her way into the weyr and then moves to one side,  
giving herself some space as she leans against a wall.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Hollerith uses the edge of the thermal to rise above
the Gold, and now turns in a more parallel effort, moving with the Gold, a
ways above, but with her...mirroring her movements, only slightly
behind...waiting...silent except for a soft croon...eyes intensely purple.

Guest Weyr> I'sai enters as does one not entirely familiar with the 
setting -  but the _territory_, that's now another story. Territory: and 
he  chooses a chair, claims it with just a palm's knowing touch along its  
back, and from that standing vantage studies the quarters' true owner.

Guest Weyr> T'saren steps over to the left wall and leans his shoulder 
against it, only once gazing around at the other maleriders before letting  
his gaze light, and remain, on Saskia. Eyes travel the length of those 
long limbs before returning to her face, and the Weyrsecond wets his 
suddenly parched lips with the tip of his tongue.

Dragon> Flight sense that Rinath's mind glows as brightly as her hide
brilliant violet and gold as she carols delightedly. << Can't catch me! >>

Kassima's eyes unfocus, refocus, and she points to the wine crate,
signalling the long-suffering Petey to take it up again. "Lysseth says the
Bowl's mostly clear. All that's t'do is wait, watch, and when the
maleriders come out, watch *them* for potential amusement value." Gesturing
towards the Bowl, she suggests, "Apprentices first... 'twill take me and
Petey a bit longer t'get out there.

Dragon> Flight sense that Hollerith croons fo the Gold...projecting the
image of his brown body intertwining with hers...as he softly croons again
to the beautiful Gold...just waiting...waiting for the right moment...

Dragon> Flight sense that Kvasith doesn't have much words at the moment. He
simply sends visions of brown and gold.

Dragon> Flight sense that Zyrieth trumpets to the challenging Gold 
<< Beautiful and powerful you are! Never lovlier! You enjoy this time, It 
is your moment! >>

Guest Weyr> D'ton walks in distractedly, and heads towards the tapestry on 
the far wall. He reaches out to touch the image of the gold dragon on it,  
and just barely allows his fingertips to rest on it a moment before 
stepping away.

Lanryi walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.

Dragon> Flight sense that Nioth answers back, mindvoice a sensual purr of
mica-flecked black and warm, ruddy oranges << Will. >>

Dragon> Flight sense that Kheveth remains silent, even here. From him, just
a cold feeling of menace, confidence, and strength.

You walk down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.

Dragon> Flight sense that Tovith rumbles in rich, earthy amusement. <<In
time, dearest. In time.>>

Dragon> Flight sense that Chaedanth casts out his own mind like a fishing
line. The end of which is glowing a bright and pulsing purple. The sliver
that connects him to the prize a glowing version of his own autumnal hide.
<< Catch you? Not yet...later...I promise >>

Guest Weyr> N'ren pulls his knees up, and lowers his head. Fingernails 
begin to dig into his palm as he focuses his concentration.

Dragon> Flight sense that Solarith's mind broadcasts a violet mist that
enshrouds a large bronze and the gleaming gold, both dragons twined
together until it's difficult to tell where one body stops and the other
starts. << Us. >> A single word-thought that says it all.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Rinath races ever upwards, reveling in freedom and the
open expanse before her. But then perhaps deciding that this game is too
simple, she abruptly folds her wings and drops like the massive barge she
is, falling heavily towards..on top of the hapless males directly below 
her.

Dragon> Flight sense that Carabeth only sends his single-minded
determination to catch Rinath, along with a hint of enticement.

Dragon> Flight sense that Taralyth sees; flares with the touch of only so
distant a glance, a prickling of those sparks along his own nerves: << Do
you then hide, Rinath? >> comes the vivid return, and even so he'll seek.

Dragon> Flight sense that Kyoteth's mind tone sparkles as merrily as
sunlight on water with delight at this game as he replies <<I'll catch 
you!>>

Once outside, Kassi gestures again, this time for Petey to set the wine
crate down close to Lysseth. He does so with great relief, and proceeds to
flee the scene. Settling down with a sigh beside her slightly grouchy
green, she quips, "Much better view from out here."

Guest Weyr> Miritha watches the others choose their places, many claiming 
spots against the wall; she takes her own place a few steps away from a  
wall, not leaning against anything.

Guest Weyr> M'kon swallows dryly, draws his hand over his eyes...over and 
over and over. A soothing, repetative motion...always drawing his gaze  
back to the goldrider. Always.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Carabeth beats his wings to an internal rhythm, evenly
and strongly as he follows after the gold in front of him. He keeps to the
middle of the pack for now, convserving what energy he can for when it's
really needed.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Hollerith continues to rise...not diving as the Gold
dives...just gaining altitude, and waiting, gliding over the mass of
dragons...above all but Kheveth at this point...now silent. Watching.
Waiting, Muscular wings extended to their full length as he conserves his
strength...and waits....

Guest Weyr> Ceria looks upward for a moment, seeing through Carabeth's 
eyes. Her gaze is rather blank, but it shifts in Saskia's direction.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Farlioth, one of the higher-flying males, banks to the
right just enough to not be beneath the gold, and reaches even as she
drops, a reaching usually left for later in a flight.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Zyriethcontinues his straight, upward flight after the
beautiful Queen, keeping his distance in this early satge of the Flight. As
Rinath drops, he is there, ready to correct his flgiht to meet her
direction. She will play her games, but he is strong and experienced. He
can follow at an appropriate distance, waiting for his chance at the Golden
prize.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Nioth settles himself into a more moderate course,
watching the gold rather than trying to anticipate her...over-long wings
suiting him now, as he claims his airspace amid the others. Not too close
now...nono...not too close at all. But not too far either, that he couldn't
make up the distance in a fluttering heartbeat.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Solarith finds himself, like many of the suitors,
suddenly faced with a plummeting gold and reaches out with neck, wings
never stopping their forward thrusting as he attempts to entangle her
before this flight can truly get started. Not that he's likely to catch her
right now, since he's at least a dragon-length too far to the right. But
it's worth a shot.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Kheveth's tinge all the way into purple finally,
whirling violently. Swerving off of the thermal high above, he tracks the
Queen. Patient. Calm. He is the hunter. She is the hunted. And he
recognizes this for what it is: the Queen's game. Surely, there is a chance
for the flight to end here, but the canny older brown doesn't think that
will be the case. Now, powerful wings push forward in high-altitude pursuit
of the glowing Rinath.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Kvasith surges onwards in a flurry of wings, hurtling
his deep sandy body upwards after the rising Rinath. Swerving to avoid the
thick of the pack, the slender brown's wings crack with the sharp retort of
a crossbow's fire, to the beat of his pulsing heart. Higher and higher the
winds of Telgar bear him, so familliar to him yet so much more -vivid- on
this night of nights, the depression of the Weyr's bowl dwindling unnoticed
below. For below matters naught, nor do those males with their close-packed
bodies nearby, only the glowing sun of Rinath high above is of importance,
now. There is a sudden bellow from the brown as the gold plunges from the
night sky. He doesn't take more than a moment to change his path and drop
and drop and drop after her.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Tovith dives out of the way and after the falling
golden, comet that is Rinath, but his dive is not as deep. He keeps his
bulk falling at a shallower angle. She can't fall forever, she has to pull
again. He keeps an even distance between them, ingoring all the other
males, they aren't worthy off his notice. His rapidly whirling eyes are on
Rinath alone, the moon reflectingly palely from his warm reddish brown hide
as he pursues his love, his lust.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Taralyth scatters not, for not even threatened
sitting'd now be incentive to flee - till one of the foremost bronzes
falls, and he must dodge in a scurry-flurry of those sharp-stroked wings,
breathless less at the tactic than the queen's sheer close-flown passage.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Rinath crows with delight as at the last minute she
spreads her great wings again and banks, narrowly avoiding Farlioth,
Zyrieth, Solarieth and Taralyth by perhaps sheer luck. She catches a
thermal and climbs again, though the buffeting winds of the bowl made this
ascent less steady than the last.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Kyoteth plays and spins with the air as he takes
advantage of Rinath's sudden drop to gain a little momentum for himself
without losing too much relative height in a slight dive. His wingstrokes,
though not as wide as some of the others' are full of energy and zest. He
knows she'll come back up, but watches carefully for where.

Guest Weyr> Ceria slides to the ground, keeping her back against the wall. 
She draws her knees up to her chest as she concentrates on the sensations  
she's receiving from Carabeth.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Nioth praises his middle ground now, knowing that the
fall preceeded a rise. For a split moment, he's beside her, then obliingly
falls back to let her flee. Fly fast, fly far...Nioth has wings enough to
follow.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Those below her consist of one persistant brown from
high reaches. As she drops her tilts his body to the right, veering that
way and out of her collision course. Not dettered by this tactical change,
he surges forward after her drop. Chaedanth is not one to be put off and he
shows it by the quickening pace of his wings, and his own slight drop to
give him momentum. The slight dive bringing him just a touch closer to
Rinath and her illuminated self. As she catches a thermal he flies into it
a moment afterwards, his wings filling with the hot air. Upwards it lifts
him and after the prize that all the others wish to procure. Smaller in
size and perhaps thought to be weaked by bronze and gold alike her
persists, when other browns have already broken away...exhausted.

Guest Weyr> Though he's already clearly staked out his personal space, 
D'ton continues to glower at those persons nearest to him.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Zyrieth responds in kind to Rinath's flight and
spreadss his wings to catch a thermal. High into the air he rises on the
strength of the thermal, then he beats his wings hard again to follow the
antics of the glowing Queen.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Farlioth, bank reversed by the reach he made, ends up
more to the left than before. His bugle, faint to those below but clear
above, is full of delight at the maneuvering, at the flying, and he puts
that delight into his wings, gaining more height as he, too, slides into
the thermal.

Guest Weyr> M'kon shudders quietly, and crosses his arms over his chest...
and for a moment lets his gaze falter. Wander away, to others across the  
weyr...D'ton gets a grim look. Some of the out-of-weyr riders, an outright 
snarl. I'sai, a very strange look indeed...and then it's back to 
Rinath-in-Saskia.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Hollerith uses this moment as she's rising, and dives
for her, diving past the other dragons below him, right at the glowing
Gold's back....on a collission course, hoping his speed will let him take
her unawares from the high height at which he was waiting...

Guest Weyr> Kandri shifts slightly as her frown draws downwards, clouding 
her eyes. Though she doesn't wave from looking at the weyrwoman, till a  
rider beside her jostles her. Then said rider get the full force of her 
glare and she hisses through clenched teeth, her folded arms dropping and 
preparing to swing. The bronzerider, noting this, quickly backs from her 
and she snorts, turning back to her former stance. Arms crossing, gaze 
narrowing till it encompases naught else but Saskia.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Kheveth bagins to bank again, perhaps trying to predict
the way Rinath will go next. See, he knew she'd be coming back up, up
indeed. He adjusts his course to take him downwards -- but not on a
collision course with the Queen as might be expected. Not that it could be
seen from this far up, but his course will place him in front of the Queen.
Where better to catch a Queen but to let HER do the work. But still, far
far away.

Guest Weyr> Aurian takes a sip of her brandy then blinks to find it empty.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Tovith snaps his wings back out, pumping them after
Rinath as she rises up before he. He catches the same, strong thermal a few
wing beats after her, riding the rocking winds that try to toss him from
the air. He has a goal, he wants to win the Gold, and all his energies are
intent on that, no tossing, bucking wind is going to throw him out off this
rodeo.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Solarith grumbles as his attempt becomes an obvious
miss, and beats his sails even more strongly, fighting both the winds and
the bit of ground he lost when he focused on trying to catch that streak of
golden glow. Let her wear herself out leading them all on this merry chase
through night-dark skies - when the time finally comes, he'll be waiting to
snatch the prize from the twisting tails of the other males.

Guest Weyr> Miritha stays, as she was in the Bowl, on the balls of her 
feet, smiling with a gleam in her eyes. Despite the welcome given to N'ren  
earlier, she appears unaware of him down, the blue gaze focused entirely 
on Saskia.

Guest Weyr> F'gon stiffens...and his hands curl into claws...

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Taralyth, for the moment pleased enough to have simply
avoided Solarith - not to mention that sudden glimpse of Rinath's
underwings, the scent of her that still tills the air - plays that game
with no twenty questions: though he muster winds of his own, when she
climbs, he climbs... and where they'll stop, nobody yet knows.

Guest Weyr> R'lym presses his back harder against the wall. He hadn't 
planned on being here for this, but such it is. He lets his eyes pass over 
teh forms of the oter maleriders in the weyr, then land on Saskia. Still,  
though, his mind's eye is elsewhere.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Kyoteth plunges through the air above the bowl with a
series of accelerated wingstrokes. He streaks towards Rinath in a direct
line as he closes on the vector of her climb. The time to play with the
wind was earlier, for the moment he must overcome its whims till he's in a
better position again.

Guest Weyr> Saskia sways slightly as her head twists around to look at 
those around her. However her eyes are closed, so she isn't seeing with 
her eyes.

Guest Weyr> Fingernails finally crack the roughened skin of N'ren's scored 
hand. The scent of blood mixes with sweat in the room.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Kvasith twists again to continue his pursuit of the
gold. He revels in the touch of wind upon his body, that wind which oh, so
recently had the honor of caressing the lithe form of the golden one. Air
currents part before him, like sisal curtains giving way. Finally, the
descent of the Lady ceases, as she veers away, and he allows his wings to
flare wide again. A shoulder drops, and the sandstorm brown follows her.
She is a tricky one this gold, and he will have her.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Hollerith is silent as he plunges...hoping the wind
ahead of him won't give him away...as he gets closer...closer...

Guest Weyr> F'gon licks his lips as if in anticipation.

Guest Weyr> T'saren bites at his lower lip, ignoring snarls and nasty 
looks from some of the other maleriders. Only one thing could pull his  
attention from Saskia now, and that is the end of the flight. Brown eyes 
try to ensnare periwinkle ones, but since the goldrider has hers lidded, 
this isn't very successful. Not that such a thing would stop the 
determined Weyrsecond from continuing to try.

Guest Weyr> I'sai momentarily - intuition, coincidence - reflects peridot 
eyes in his own, for all that then motion shifts gaze to shuttered 
periwinkle; his palm's still flat on the chair's back, smoothing the wood, 
as if he could sense its grain - sense the winds - by fingertips alone.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Rinath shows no signs of tiring as the thermal carries
her aloft in an erratic pattern. She leans into the wind and snakes her
long sinuous neck to look down at the tiring males, with a regretful cry
for those who drop out of the race.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Carabeth continues at his steady pace and he moves up
in the pack a bit as others drop out. He still doesn't make a move to get
ahead though. He moves only fast enough to keep his position. He moves
after Rinath, attempting to follow and even anticipate her moves.

Guest Weyr> D'ton sits down on the floor with a sudden thud, as if his 
legs decided to give out on him. He covers his face with his hands, though  
he's trembling with nervous energy rather than fatigued.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Zyrieth does not tilt or twist his flight to follow the
erratic path Rinath takes. Rather, he flies in a fairly straight line,
across the twists of the Gold's flight, determined to outfly the others and
t obe there when the lovely object of his desire finalyl tires and can be
caught.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Kheveth abruptly alters his course, furling his wings
and stretching his neck out so it seems he's pivoting on his tail when he
is, in fact, beginning to drop like a proverbial stone. Once his angle puts
him as arriving right above the Queen, wings flare and blur. Drop becomes
powered dive. Still, however, no sound from the dragon, except perhaps the
sound of wind passing his wings as they slam against the air.

[Editor's Note:  Got disconned briefly here.]

Guest Weyr> Aurian sighs breathlessly. She reaches up to rub her eyes 
shaking with every move with in this weyr.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Farlioth tilts his wings slightly, left and then right.
There is, from this, no measureable improvement in his position - below and
behind - but matches the happiness he's thrown into the flying. The small S
he makes, in fact, should have him falling behind slightly; but as there
was no improvement, neither is there a loss of position for the Fortian 
brown.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Nioth slices through the air, and tempts his luck
again, pressing the envelope as he draws closer to the gold yet
again...flings himself into the corners of her vision and then fading back
out again reassuringly. He's there...oh yes. But not too close. Not
/yet/...the others he ignores. No slashes, no confrontations. There might
as well be only he and Rinath aloft. And that is how he would have it end.

Lanryi nods and glances up at the sky with a grin, "The veiw is much
better, and it's a very nice night too. How are the bets looking?" she
asks, "Not that I have any marks to wadger, but who's the favorite? I mean,
it doesn't hurt to be informed."

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Chaedanth still lets the winds from behind him do most
of the work, but as Rinath enters into a more eratic pattern he is forced
to change tactics. His once slowly beating wings now take up a much more
steady and obvious tempo, though not yet matching his racing heart. The
added beat lends him more speed and gives him a boost forward after the
gold. No signs of tiring yet, his strength still evident in the muscles
that bristle below his hide. His small size, however, has left him at
somewhat of a disadvantage. The fact that he is quicker and one of those at
the head of the pack. Still, though, it is worth the sight of the golden
tail snaking ahead, teasing him and the others with it's seeming persistant
wiggle.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Kyoteth lofts himself up and to the right to avoid
crashing into a competitor who's falling backwards. It alters his course
somewhat, but his own flight path seems almost as random as the fall of
rain on water, following some sort of internal instinct that tells him it
will bring him closer to Rinath.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Tovith continues on this wild ride upward into the
night sky, racing toward the moon in an attempt to catch the sun, the
rising sun. He doesn't waste any of his pity on those to weak to last
through the race, only the strong deserve to win and get the prize. His
wings angles and arch as her manuevers through the buffeting air, their
auburn pinions a flash in the moonlight, complementing the warm, golden
glow emminating from Rinath.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Hollerith continues to stream down, right at the
beautiful Gold, almost on top of her now...silent and straight as an arrow,
feeling the break in the thermal where her body is rising now, and using
that to guide him...claws extended...brown wings folded back...

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Kvasith is an autumn leaf, parched by the wonderous
light of the sunlit Rinath, skittering helplessly in the winds of passion,
propelled onward by the gales of desire. His slender body ripples with the
effort of the continued climb, his voice echoing the golden one's cry, not
with regret, but with challenge. Others fall away with out a thought, only
one thing remains. He's still here!

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Taralyth finds new obstacles in those that fall; this
time when one wingtip nearly brushes dragonhide, it's not cloud-brushed
golden but a deeper brown instead, and a sudden arch of spine twists him
willfully out of the way. Not there - there; and slowly he traverses those
inverted comets even as the ground drops even more distantly away, seeking
at the moment to match not Rinath's path, but the endpoint of that
swift-skewed line.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Hollerith reaches out for the Gold, his tail moving to
twine around her as he moves past...dead on target but not trusting the
thermals...

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Solarith doesn't even try to follow the sunlight and
earthen-dotted gold's erratic - and erotic - path, preferring instead to
pursue the straight and narrow for this moment. The shortest distance
between two points is a straight line, but it's difficult to draw such a
line when the destination has wings of its own. But that's no matter to
this bronze, and so he continues to streak through the Telgar skies like a
shooting star chasing a supernova.

Kassima drawls as she plays idly with one of the wineskins, "Well, most of
the maleriders were too busy t'be *placing* bets, alas--M'kon put five
against Nioth, so I suppose that makes him the anti-favorite. A few marks
on Taralyth, a few on Tovith. Bets do seem t'be favoring the younger dragons."

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Rinath abruptly drops out of the thermal. She flexes
her forelegs in a contemplative gesture which slows her enough to let the
pack catch up to her. She surveys the males around her with a playful toss
of her head. Which one to twine with to end this game and quench this
pulsating heat? She brushes her wingtip tantalisingly against a young brown
and lightly taps another on the back.

Lanryi grins, "M'kon put five against his own dragon, well I see he's
pretty confident." Then she lets out a little oh like she suddenly
remembers something, "I hear you're having twins," she say with a grin.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Hollerith reaches out and misses as Rinath drops out of
the thermal, his dive taking him well down, but he pulls up and uses his
momentum to gain most of his height again, rising up...up...up....coming up
from below, his wings now beating hard, as he uses thermals, but also the
brute force strength of his wings....

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Farlioth takes advantage of the queen's slowing to put
on a burst of speed, putting himself below her; the violet eyes look
upwards, as he transfers his strength from forward motion to height.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Nioth turns, twists with an agility not commonly seen
in a bronze so large...thank his long, lean frame for the sinuous motion as
he flicks himself into a gap left by two not so fast or lucky...and draws
close to the slowing gold...spreads his wings beside her like a huge
stormcloud threatening to sheath her midnight sun with its darkness. The
browns, of course, are lucky for her touch--he'll do his best to see it's
all they get of her.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Zyrieth allows Rinath's flight to once again drop past
him. This is not a setback, but a benefit! He fies with determination and
strength, keeping his altitude for the opportunity to dive in at catch the
lovely queen.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Carabeth snaps his wings to his sides as Rinath drops
lower in the skies. He dives in an attempt to follow, but he quickly
stretches his wings again, lest he fall to far out of reach of the
tantalizing queen.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Kheveth, still in a power-dive, blows right by
Hollerith as Rinath descends out of his reach. Gang Way! Coming Through!
Wings reverse in a braking maneuver, placing him above and to the port side
of the slowing Queen. But he is wary. He knows the Tricks That Females
Play. And he is watching for them.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Chaedanth moves forward as the gold lets them approach,
trying to parrellell her in the air. As her gaze sweeps across them all he
turns to try and catch it. His powerful wings managing to keep him up with
the gold despite her greater size. No croon, though, is waisted from his
throat to catch her attention. The way he tries to catch her attention is
by the snapping of his wings as they brush the wind is their carressing
flight. Up and down through the air he weaves, managing to keep pace for
far longer than one might acticipate. Yet the blood of four hearty beasts
and his own natural vitality and strength keep him there. One more snapping
of his long wings to trya nd catch her gaze and then he quiets, keeping the
pleasure of attempting the parallell to heart. One might note he does not
try to squeeze in yet and take her from the air...oh no...he seems to be
waiting for something. A signal from the queen perhaps?

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Solarith rumbles softly, but with much annoyance, as
that shimmering vision of loveliness toys with some of the other suitors.
'You're too good for them,' his tone seems to cry out in Rinath's
direction. 'Let me soothe your burning need!' The bronze banks slightly now
onto a course that would allow him to intercept that gold's entrancing form
if need be, but still maintains enough clear space about himself in case
another shift of direction is called for.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Hollerith doesn't give the streaking Kheveth any notice
as he moves past, gliding in above the Gold...quietly...silently
hunting...silently watching...waiting for the chance for the next
move...about one and half dragonlengths above now, his head just over her
midsection.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Kvasith surges forwards and upwards, not relinquishing
his momentum for a moment of flirtation. It is to twine with the glorious
Rinath, not a mere brush of a wingtip, that he desires. Rising alongside,
yet slightly behind her, the sinewy brown pulses his wings, again and
again, the snap of the sails catching the wind only punctuating his
urgency. Now, so close, that wind which caresses the golden hide before him
moves rapidly on to his own body - and he snarls that he must share this
delicacy with the other males.

"Confident he'll lose, aye," Kassi confirms with a grin. "If'n Nioth *does*
catch her, I can't wait t'be seeing his face when I collect the marks...."
She trails off, glances down at herself, then back up with a rueful smile.
"Aye, I am. Who told on me? I'm guessing 'twas Ryi?"

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Taralyth fleets within the pack, those other browns may
be newly tagged, but she's surely _it_ - and a sudden wing-surge sends him
roundabout, shadowed by whitewashed clouds close with that darker storm
more distant: reaches - neck, tail, will and all - and sweeps; game, and
match.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Tovith drops out of the thermal almost in time with
Saskia, his eyes on her every movement he follows her like a relentless
rust colored shadow to her rich autumnal gold self. He reaches toward her,
his neck outstretched as far as it can as he pumps his wings with all his
might through the air, diving recklessly through the browns and bronzes.
Weaving through the maze, his tail flicking in concentrated excitement, his
eyes brilliant violet, he suddenly dives down below in an attempt to by
pass the other pursuers and rise to come out on top.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Kyoteth twists forward, trying to come into Rinath's
field of view. There's anticipation in the air, and challenge. He darts in
front of Solarith playfully, showing off his agility, but doesn't stay
there long, not wanting to even risk the chance of a collision this close
to Rinath. Or jeopardize his position with the pack.

Lanryi nods, "She told me yesterday when she was showing off her new crib."
then she shudders slightly, "Shells, I hope I don't have twins if I ever
spawn. I'm more than happy to wish twins on others but I certainly don't
want to have them myself. I know how terrible Rylan and I could be."

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Hollerith goes to drop, coming in from the opposite
side as Tovith as he makes his move, just a moment behind...waiting for the
movement away from Tovith by the beautiful Gold form, ready to catch her as
she makes that move...

Kassima gives Lanryi a rather wry look. "You're being terribly reassuring,
you realize. Don't know whether t'conjecture that you will or won't--and
you should spawn, y'know; Ryi wouldn't mention it, but she's hoping for
plenty of grandspawn, and y'know how F'hlan is about that. Seems t'be
running in families. Two of m'cousins had twins just this season, though on
opposite sides."

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Rinath creels with surprise that modulates into a deep
croon as Taralyth enfolds her tightly. Her golden glow dims against his
darker hue, but deep abiding joy reflects in her whirling eyes that at last
she has won the game.

Telgar-Bowl> Chaedanth backwings for a landing.

Kandri comes down the short path from Rinath's ledge.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Kheveth, surprised by the catch, actually blows by the
Queen as well. Hey, at least Holerith's in good company for being bypassed,
eh?

Chaedanth lumbers here from the north.

Kandri hops onto Chaedanth's back, using his upraised forepaw as a boost.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Carabeth veers off as Rinath is caught.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Solarith snaps his teeth at Kyoteth in a warning,
despite the other bronze's positioning putting him out of reach. Let that
young upstart come between him and his goal again, however, and... Well,
that's a thought that will have to wait for another time, as Taralyth
attains what should have been his. The bronze gives another grumble, then
banks off, spiraling down towards the Weyr he calls home.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Tovith bugles the loud, disappointed bugle of defeat,
then drops like a falling star from the sky.

Telgar-Bowl> Tovith backwings for a landing.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Farlioth banks sharply, almost too quickly, spinning
right away from the pair; just below the queen as he was, the maneuver is,
despite the unwise tightness of it, all too obviously necessary now that
the flight is won.

Aurian comes down the short path from Rinath's ledge.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Kvasith bugles furiously.

Ceria comes down the short path from Rinath's ledge.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Nioth gives an oddly toned bellow and breaks away, off
into the night.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Hollerith veers off....

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Zyrieth roars his frustration as the Flgiht ends, the
great Bronze turns his flgiht abruptly and cicles toward the bowl.

R'lym comes down the short path from Rinath's ledge.

Leya comes down the short path from Rinath's ledge.

Nioth backwings for a landing.

M'kon comes down the short path from Rinath's ledge.

T'saren comes down the short path from Rinath's ledge.

Zyrieth backwings for a landing.

M'kon comes out, but the expression behind his eyes is far unlike his usual
demeanor.

Carabeth backwings for a landing.

Solarith lumbers here from the north.

F'gon comes down the short path from Rinath's ledge.

Ceria hurries over to Carabeth as he lands and she buries her face in his
side.

Terryll comes down the short path from Rinath's ledge.

R'lym climbs up and settles himself comfortable on Zyrieth's neck. His
loving pat is greeted with a quiet rumbling from Zyrieth.

Zyrieth croons to R'lym as he settles himself on his neck.

Zyrieth takes flight, using the thermals rising from the bowl to carry him
aloft.

Tovith lumbers here from the north.

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Kyoteth stops racing and lets himself drift downwards
in a glide.

F'gon limps to the central bowl.

F'gon walks north.

Terryll walks north.

M'kon stalks to Nioth's side, bare shoulders tighter by far, than his
dragon's disappointment.

Aurian stares up at the star stones numbly.

D'ton comes down the short path from Rinath's ledge.

Kassima whistles sharply, squinting up skywards. "That was relatively
quick," she remarks, even as Lysseth rumbles a decidedly displeased note.
"Oh, hush, wench. Myk--" Singling out the one bronzerider in the crowd, she
calls over, surprisingly gently, "There's wine over here. If'n you need."

T'saren walks over to his lifemate and reaches up a hand to console and
reassure the big bronze. "You did good, lump. There'll be another time."
Solarith lowers his head and nudges his rider gently, rumbling deep in his
chest as if to return the gesture his rider gives.

M'kon's gaze is enough to feel like a blow, when it seeks Kassima out. He
just hisses, "I don't /drink/ Wingleader."

Telgar-Bowl> Above, Taralyth twines so deeply, mate and match, and for all
that that the game's won - her gleam dimming from hide only to light his
eyes - his own throaty croon's certain promise that, on this new playing
field, more games may be had.

Aurian snaps, "M'kon go to Ice lake.. you don't act like that towards any
wingleader and I don't sharding care if it's after a flight is loss.."

M'kon turns away again, and fumbles to readjust Nioth's flight-mussed
straps, muttering darkly under his breath.

Jenni emerges from the infirmary.

Lanryi says to Kassi, "I'll try my best. I'm sure you'll need lots of
reassurance, so it's a good thing I'll be around for a few days." and
grins, "I think I'll let Mehlani take care of all the grandspawn for now.
I'll try and wait awhile."

"Perhaps," Kassima replies, unfazed, "this would be a good time t'start.
Don't fret it, Auri. I'm nay going t'be calling him on it."

D'ton walks slowly through the crowd, no longer in a foul mood. It's more
as if he's drained, or numbed.

Ceria simply leans against Carabeth's side. She props her face against him
with her arms.

Jenni prowls for riders after the flight. Prowl Prowl.

M'kon snarls back at his wingleader, "Oh go stuff it, Aurian...that's not
YOUR weyrmate in there...after giving you the cold shoulder because the
goldrider flirted with YOU."

Leya walks stiffly over to Tovith, taking short measured breaths. Once she
reaches Tovith she flings her arms around his lower neck and her shoulders
can be seem shaking as she releases all the tension that built up during
the flight.

D'ton mumbles indistinctly as he passes by the crowd, "Going to join
Kyo..glad..we don't..fly Thread too soon after these."

M'kon grabs Nioth's straps, and swings himself up. "I'll go where I please
and /do/ what I please."

M'kon mounts Nioth with relative ease.

D'ton walks north.

Aurian smirks at M'kon, "Geee... how many times did I have to see my
weyrmate go and bed Kindre M'kon.. I'm perhaps the only other one who
sharding understands that.."

Atop Nioth, M'kon's back and shoulders tighten that much more, but he holds
his tongue...he must have gotten that trait from his father. Nioth growls
warningly, and backs up to ready himself to take off.

Nioth takes flight, using the thermals rising from the bowl to carry him
aloft.

T'saren pulls his attention away from his lifemate long enough to blink at
M'kon. "Lovely things flights do to us all," he mutters against
ebon-streaked bronze hide. "Remind me to take you away from the next one."
Solarith gives a snort that could be agreement or disapproval and nudges
Tas again.

Jenni asks, dumbfounded, "Who's M'kon's weyrmate?"

Kassima snorts, only snorts, at this scene between Aurian and M'kon.
"Bloody, bloody glad I don't have a weyrmate at times like this. Makes for
naught but trouble. Want wine, Tas, or should I just ask Lyss to ask Tierth
to ask May t'be getting out here?"

Aurian snaps, "Oh shard it all.. I threw my flask back in there.." She
glances towards Jenni, "Oh wake up.. I'sai.."

Jenni looks back at Aurian puzzled, "He is?"

Jenni frowns, "I thought I'sai and Keara were together."

T'saren sighs and turns to Kassi, giving a shrug. "Doesn't much matter," he
answers absently. "I think I'll be heading somewhere I can calm down as
well, though hopefully I won't run into M'kon wherever I end up."

Leya's shoulders finally stops shaking, she turns back around, leaning
Tovith who whuffles dejectedly at her hair. She wipes at her face and
shakes her head Jenni, "No. Aurian's right, but they're..." *sniff* "still
in different weyrs."

Jenni shrugs up her shoulders, it's not as though anyone tells her anything
anymore and she's certainly been left out of the inner circle of those who
were her clutchmates and well...pretty much everyone else. She nods
slightly and then shrugs. "Whatever."

Aurian grumbles under her breath, "You do that Tas, I'll go borrow your
weyrmate.." She stalks towards the living cavern.

"For some reason I *still* don't understand. I'm going t'have t'be asking
Is directly, I suppose," Kassi mutters, with another snort. "Suit yourself,
Tas, though I'd hurry if'n you want t'beat Auri t'May."

Jenni sighs and wanders off.

Jenni walks beneath the lintel and disappears into the living cavern.

Aurian walks beneath the lintel and disappears into the living cavern.

"Borrow my weyrmate?" T'saren bares his teeth at Aurian's comment,
narrowing his eyes at her back as she heads into the living cavern. "Maybe
I should drag both of the up to the weyr right now. Wouldn't be the first
time, after all."

T'saren walks beneath the lintel and disappears into the living cavern.

Miritha comes down the short path from Rinath's ledge.

TGW-LC>> Aurian growls at Pierron, "Oh go and..." The brownrider then
proceeds to explain to Pierron what he can do with an entire roast bovine.
She is soon away from the man and stalks towards the weyrlingmaster.

Kassima watches Auri and Tas go with more amusement than anything, and
confides to Lanryi, "This is why I always come out here t'be watching.
Scenes like that aren't t'be missed."

Leya takes a deep breath and straightens up to stand on her own unsteady
legs, she pats Tovith then turns to Kassi, "Kassi, you have anything
that'll make all this go away?" she asks in a small, shaky voice.

Ceria whirls around at Kassima's words and simply glares before stalking
around to Carabeth's other side.

N'ren comes down the short path from Rinath's ledge.

Miritha walks down from Saskia's weyr, with the fingers of one hand
entwined with N'ren's.

TGW-LC>> T'saren strides into the room hot on Aurian's heels, and headed
for the same destination. "Bloody shards if you think you're going to take
Maylia away from me," he grates out at the Dawnslight Wingleader's back,
recahing out towards Aurian's shoulder as if to drag the brownrider
forcibly away from his weyrmate.

Lanryi grins, "I can see where you find the amusement in the post-flight
drama," she says and watches the riders.

"Wine," Kassi agrees, thumping the edge of the crate to make the 'skins
within slosh. "Or if'n you prefer something stronger, I've m'own
brew-liquors hidden away yet."

Telgar Weyr> Maylia yays! they're /fighting/ over May! ;) ... back to my
pose-writing...

Telgar Weyr> M'kon heehees.

Telgar Weyr> T'saren giggles.

Telgar Weyr> I'sai laughs!

TGW-LC>> M'rgan smiles his thanks to Maylia as he takes the napkin from
her. He first wipes his mouth but he runs into trouble when he tries to
wipe his hands as his left hand is completely filled with the remaining bit
of sandwich and his mug of juice. He considers this dilemma for a second or
two and asks, "Taralyth?" before downing the juice and putting the empty
mug on a table and then stuffing the sandwich remains into his mouth. Now
his hands are free for wiping.

Telgar Weyr> Leya grins.

Telgar Weyr> Aurian sighs, "Its cause she's soooo dreamy...

Gaiath backwings for a landing.

Miritha protests, as she sees Kassima slosh the wine, "Don't mistreat good
wine that way, Kassima! It _is_ good wine, isn't it?"

Kassima quips, "Good blackmail material, too, on occasion. Or just
blush-inspiring material. Tas turns all sorts of pretty colors when you
mention him undoing his pants in the Ista Living Cavern, say--oh, aye,
Miritha! Benden Red, I told Petey t'be getting, though there may be a 'skin
or two of White mixed in."

TGW-LC>> Jenni settles into the seat, watching the happenings dully.

TGW-LC>> Maylia glances up at the unmistakable grumblings of Aurian, and
suggests, "You forgot, 'sideways', hon," with a flick of her green eyes
towards Pierron. Her weyrmate's words draw an attempt at a frown, but the
greenrider's lips betray her, changing the expresison into one of humour.
"Taralyth," she half asks, half confirms. To the two disappointed riders,
her friend and her weyrmate, she inquires, "Wine, or...?"

TGW-LC>> Aurian lets the bronzerider grab her. This has been a long time
coming, "Think? I'm going to do it. You ruddy idiot." The redhead snaps
out. She pivots on one foot with her fist clenched as she takes a swing at
the weyrsecond. Yeah long time coming.

Ceria sighs and clambers onto Carabeth's back.

Miritha gives a relieved sigh, holding one hand out towards Kassima; her
eyes go pleading. "Can we have one?"

TGW-LC>> Maylia scrambles out of her seat at this latest event, the wooden
chair tumbling backwards to land with a crack on the stone floor of the
cavern. "Wha -- hey now, this is the living cavern, not a brawl at a..."
Her sentence is finished in an 'ughhhh.' "Mart! Jenni?" Yup, a plea for help.

Kassima nods at once, working a 'skin free from about the middle of the
crate and checking its mark. "Seventeenth Turn of the Present Pass," she
reads off, before offering it over. "Will that serve?"

N'ren is being decidedly quiet for now, looking around the Weyr wistfully,
as if reliving old memories.

TGW-LC>> T'saren doesn't even see the punch coming, and Aurian's fist
catches him square in the right eye, causing him to stagger backwards a
bit. "You bloody wench!" His grip on her shoulder tightens. "I've half a
mind to... No, I think I'll do it. Get your sharding rump up to my weyr,
and you too, love." His eye is quickly swelling shut, so his gaze as he
turns to Maylia is pretty squinted.

Miritha accepts the skin with a light sigh. "Mmmm, that will suit quite
nicely, Kassima. Thank you. I always did say the Bendenites were the best
thing to happen to Telgar Weyr."

Ceria climbs up Carabeth's side onto his back.

Carabeth takes flight, using the thermals rising from the bowl to carry him
aloft.

Lanryi grins at Kassima, "You sound like you have had experience with the
blackmailing and the blush-inspiring both." then motions to the wine and
says to the other riders, "It'd be a shame if you didn't have one after
poor Petey had to haul it all out here."

Telgar Weyr> T'saren thinks the entire Weyr should be glad that Tas at
least had the sense to request taking this to his weyr. Could have been
right in the LC... ;)

Kassima chuckles quietly at that, leaning back against the shoulder of her
warm, if grumpy, lifemate. "Bendenites and Benden wine," she agrees
readily. "One we are and one we have. I should, Lanryi--I've made a
practice of it for over half m'life now."

Miritha slants a look at N'ren, as he looks around, then asks Kassima,
"What's this about someone undoing trousers in a living cavern? Why wasn't
I invited?"

"'twasn't me, Miritha," N'ren says. Very calmly, and inscrutably, he adds:
"I always invite you when I'm undoing my trousers." He coughs for a moment.
"... in a Living Cavern."

TGW-LC>> "Faranth isn't going to stop anything," T'saren replies to Aurian
huskily, releasing her shoulder just long enough to let his fingertips
trail down her back instead. "You don't have to come if you don't want to,
love," he murmurs in his weyrmate's direction, one-eyed gaze never leaving
Aurian's face.

There's a snerk of stifled laughter from Kassi's direction before, clearing
her throat, she explains, "'Twas a'fore one of Phediath's flights--the
first, methinks. Tas said something about letting me castrate Solarith, I
said something about there being nay gelding job too big t'handle--nay
innuendo *intended*--and... well, it sort of degenerated from there. He did
turn fascinating colors when people yelled at him t'save it for the guest
weyr, though."

TGW-LC>> Aurian glances over her shoulder at Maylia, she idly slides a hand
down the bronzerider's chest. "May, love.. please come.."

TGW-LC>> Maylia thinks for a moment, and snags a second skin of wine. "Not
gonna waste southern wine on flight-addled wits," she grumblemutters, then
chuckles. "Love..." a pause. "Loves, I'd not miss this for all the marks in
the world."

Miritha chortles quietly. "Pity I missed it." She lifts the wineskin, and
an eyebrow, in N'ren's direction.

TGW-LC>> Jenni flops down into her seat, "oh yeah Jenni, real good you
Idiot." She scowls at herself and looks down at the table for a long while.

Above, From the Telgar Star Stones, L'klal's burnished bronze Pteynth rears
on hind legs and bugles a greeting to bronze Nioth and his rider, M'kon,
welcoming them home.

TGW-LC>> T'saren shudders under Aurian's touch, then nods absently in
agreement with them both. "Let's get up there before I do something
drastic. Can't take much more of this." And he shivers again, taking a step
towards the bowl.

TGW-LC>> Maylia, her attention not quite so focussed as the other two,
flashes a quick smile at Jenni, though it's possibly missed as the
bluerider's eyes are on the table. And with that, she heads after her
weyrmate and Aurian.

Kassima then turns her attention to Leya. "Leya, were you wanting some of
those noxious brews, still? Or d'you wish t'be making do with plain
grape-pressings?"

TGW-LC>> Aurian just slinks along with T'saren with an almost catlike
movement.

TGW-LC>> Jenni drums her fingers on the table's surface, waving just for
the sake of waving after the trio.

N'ren nods at Miritha, then glances towards the central bowl.

Farlioth lumbers here from the north.

TGW-LC>> T'saren, in contrast to Aurian's slink, struts through the living
cavern like a bantam rooster before disappearing outside.

T'saren comes out of the short tunnel from the living cavern.

Aurian comes out of the short tunnel from the living cavern.

Miritha glances that direction, too, just in time to see Farlioth to hop
into the air and glide over.

Maylia comes out of the short tunnel from the living cavern.

Kheveth lumbers here from the north.

Now this is a scene that's been played out before - T'saren strutting out
of the living cavern with Aurian on one side and Maylia just behind.
There's one thing different this time, however, and that's the darkening
black eye Tas sports.

Kheveth, for his part, just lumbers this way, instead of flying.

Maylia's not behind Tas and Aurian for very long. Two wineskins swinging at
her side, one limp and half emptied, she soon slips herself beside her
Weyrmate, one arm reaching behind his broad back towards the redhead's
shoulder. Yes, this looks familiar, almost predictable. But from the
expression on the greenrider's face, this is anything but boring routine.

Kassima waves cheerfully at the trio as they sashay past, not seeming--go
figure--particularly surprised. "Tas, one of these days you're going t'wind
up getting Auri pregnant, doing that," she yells to him. "And then M'hryn
will kill you, and May will have t'be cleaning the blood off the ledge. I
hope you realize!"

Telgar Weyr> Maylia wipes tea off my brand new monitor, and finds a
kleenex, Kassi!

Miritha eyes the trio of riders just emerging from the caverns, looking
amused; but as Kheveth approaches she takes a step or two towards him,
still holding N'ren's hand.

Telgar Weyr> Kassima radiates innocence. 0:)

Telgar Weyr> M'kon drats. I want a log!

Telgar Weyr> Leya throws M'kon a big heavy log, "This about the right size?"

N'ren glances towards Aurian and the others. He shakes his head and turns
to walk towards the two browns, Farlioth and his Kheveth.

"Maybe, but the process of getting her that way will certainly be fun!"
T'saren calls back to Kassi with a one-eyed leer as he heads for his
lifemate, women in tow.

Telgar Weyr> M'kon oofs. Out.

Telgar Weyr> I'sai says, "Good for carving?"

Telgar Weyr> M'kon says, "Ow even."

Telgar Weyr> Kassima will post one in due course, she promises. But
notnotnot tonight. Must resist temptation to do things other than study for
the genealogy midterm.

Aurian yells towards Kassima, "Oh just have your baby already and spare the
weyr Kassima.." After the yell she flicks her gaze back up at T'saren with
a slow grin.

Telgar Weyr> Leya gacks, "Don't remind me of those dreadful things."

Tierth swings her head to regard her weyrmate, and her pair of partners,
with whirling eyes. "Tierth's less exhausted, I'd wager, than the boys,"
Maylia suggests to Tas and Aurian, wiggling her fingers in a wave to
Kassima. "And why would I wish harm on Aurian, should that happen?"

Telgar Weyr> Maylia's got a log, too, starting back in the DHL lecture,
actually.

Kassima flips a rude gesture at Aurian without so much as batting an
eyelash. "Incorrigible people. You should all three just weyrmate and be
getting it over with. Invite M'hryn, too. I'm sure he and Tas would make a
cute couple. What, May, did I say 'twould? I only said 'twould have t'be
mopping blood!"

Leya silently watches T'saren, Maylia, and Aurian go by from where she sits
leaning against Tovith, a wineskin cradles in her hand.

M'dei slides down to the ground from Gaiath's neckridges, landing with a
soft *thump*.

N'ren glances at the group again, and turns back to Miritha, murmuring
something quietly.

Farlioth warbles at his rider, though as she tends towards Kheveth rather
than himself he arches his neck again. The woman laughs up at him. "Stop
flirting," she tells him, "I'll fly with _you_ tomorrow. Or later tonight."
The brown warbles again, eyes whirling cheerfully.

Telgar Weyr> I'sai lauds you both.

T'saren nods his agreement with his weyrmate's words, although he's a bit
distracted by Aurian's presence beside him and trying to shoot comments
back to Kassi. "I don't think M'hryn would like what I can give him," the
Weyrsecond mutters as he changes course to Tierth instead of his own lifemate.

Miritha chuckles at N'ren's whisper and nods, starting up Kheveth's side
confidently.

Maylia breaks apart from Tas and Aurian, regretfully, as they near Tierth's
side. "We've got to get a ground weyr, love." With that, she reaches up for
the riding straps on her lifemate, and hauls herself up.

Maylia swings up to her place astride Tierth, her lifemate welcoming her
with a rumble.

Aurian brushes her lips against T'saren's jaw and then follows Maylia up.

Aurian scrambles up Tierth's side making use of the politely offered leg as
the dragon watches curiously.

"Most definitely," T'saren replies to Maylia as he clambers up Tierth's side.

T'saren scrambles up Tierth's side making use of the politely offered leg
as the dragon watches curiously.

M'dei slides down from Gaiath's neckridges, landing with a soft *thump*. He
lingers, one hand resting softly on Gaiath's smooth flank, and surveys the
assembly for awhile, motionless.

Kassima only shakes her head at the entire assemblage, waving a general
wave. "'Twill take your word for it, Tas. G'deve, M'dei. You missed the
spectacle."

From astride Tierth, Maylia greets Aurian with an assisting arm, and a
gentle brush of her lips against the redhead's pale cheek. A lingering
assistance is given to Tas, though neither would've really needed her help,
with Tierth being much smaller than their own mounts. Silvered wings spread
behind the trio, and Tierth prepares to lift skywards.

Miritha steps up onto Kheveth's proferred foreleg, and swings herself up
onto his back with the help of the straps.

M'dei's gaze flickers Kassi-wards, and one corner of his mouth tugs
upwards. "I think I'm glad for that," the greenrider says, then adds, "but
it seems as though it's not quite over yet. Rinath's risen, then?"

Lanryi turns to Leya with a grin and wonders, "So are you feeling any
better? Is the wine helping or do you think you'll be needing something
stronger?"

Seated between Tierth's lower neck ridges, Aurian blushes happily. She pats
Tierth fondly.

Seated between Tierth's lower neck ridges, T'saren brushes his fingers
along both womens' neck, then settles his arms about thier waists.
"Whenever Tierth is ready, love. I really doubt she'd appreciate having us
do what I'm planning on right here on her neck."

N'ren follows up after Miritha, swinging in behind her.

N'ren steps up onto Kheveth's proferred foreleg, and swings himself up onto
his back with the help of the straps.

With a sweep of raindrizzled wings, Tierth lifts into the night sky of Telgar.

Tierth takes flight, using the thermals rising from the bowl to carry her
aloft.

"Aye," answers Kassima, "and caught by Taralyth, interestingly. I must
thank I'sai. He won me marks, sort of. It was an *interesting* scene, in
any event."

From Kheveth's back, N'ren reaches over to put on his straps, and then
looks around to check Miritha's. Normally he probably wouldn't bother, but
it's a valid excuse if someone not completely familiar with the individual
dragon is riding as well.

Leya frowns down at the wineskin as a simple tipping of it doesn't result
in any wine going in her mouth. She furrows her brows in concentration and
lifts it higher this time and suceeds in getting wine down her throat. She
smiles lopsidely at Lanryi, "Better," she says the single word slurred. Her
eyes widen and the wine skin flops into her lap once she sees..., "M'dei!"
She lifts her hand in a clumsy wave. "Be glad you have a green."

From atop Kheveth's back, Miritha has, apparently, merely clipped a line to
her belt and done no further securing.

Atop Kheveth's back, N'ren shrugs. "Up, Kheveth."

The ex-Istan, ex-Benden, ex-Telgar brown crouches, spreading his wings.
With a push, he's off the ground and abruptly spiraling upwards.

Kheveth takes flight, using the thermals rising from the bowl to carry him
aloft.

M'dei seems about to make some comment to Kassima-- but then, Leya catches
his attention, and his brow furrows in concern. There goes his attention
span. He returns the wave, at least, and pushes away from his lifemate to
approach the brownrider. "Should I be asking why, or just taking your word
for it?" he asks, before smiling an absent greeting to Lanryi.

Farlioth takes flight, using the thermals rising from the bowl to carry him
aloft.

Above, Atop Kheveth's back, N'ren blinks in surprise, "Whoa. That's
Yasinth. That brings back memories."

Above, Kheveth apparently doesn't remember. He keeps going up.

Above, Farlioth leaps after Kheveth, flying close enough that he's _almost_
crowding the other brown's wingspace.

"Tovith chased," Kassi clarifies for Leya, as she herself stands, joints
popping. "And greens don't."

Above, Kheveth banks into a turn, and then is suddenly gone, vanished from
Telgar's airspace without even a hint of seeming preparation.

M'kon walks here from the north.

Leya smiles almost dreamily up at M'de. Yes, that wine skin is just about
empty. "Greens don't chase sharding proddy dragons," she says slowly and
carefully, then giggles. "They are the proddy dragon, or at least one."

M'kon comes stalking up, looking a bit chilled around the gills. Couldn't
be that the idiot went *between* in just his flight jacket, sans shirt...or
that he came back the same way only wet...so now he looks wet, cold...but
at least a bit cooled off moodwise.

M'dei casts a smile of thanks over his shoulder to Kassi, before crouching
down a bit. "Mmm, I see." He declines further pursuit of that line of
thought, however, and asks instead, "How's the wine, then?"

Kassima, while stretching arms skywards in a stretch to clear the rest of
those joints, espies Myk and pauses mid-motion. "You realize you'll catch
your death doing that, one of these days?" she wonders. "Water in the Lake
should be cold enough t'be serving, this time of Turn."

M'kon wanders over to the gathering, and lurks like a small bit of bad mood
on the edge. Kassima gets a tolerant smile; don't you just love teenagers?
"Yes'm. I'll remember that the next time."

Kassima casts her eyes skywards, letting arms and shoulders drop. "I'm nay
a ma'am, Myk, and never have been. I'd ask whether you're feeling better,
but if'n you went and soaked yourself cold, you must be feeling at least
*somewhat* better, so the question's likely moot."

M'kon huffs out something that's not quite a smile...and looks up to the
ledge to see if I'sai's dragon's returned yet. When Taralyth isn't there,
he just shrugs. "I'll be alright. If Aurian doesn't skin me tomorrow."

Leya pokes at mostly deflated wineskin, an overly concerned, almost comical
expression on her face. "It's almost all gone." She lifts up the limp sack
and holds it out to M'dei. "It's good, but it's almost all gone," she
repeats forlornly.

"She'd *better* not," replies Kassi, with a snort. "Given that from what I
hear through Lyss from some of the dragons of other riders in the Cavern,
she went and socked T'saren, which is a good bit worse than a bit of yelling."

"We can find you some more," M'dei tells Leya, though he declines the 'skin
with a quick shake of his head. "If you'd like, of course. Me...I wouldn't
advise it. You'll wake up with an awful headache."

M'kon winces a bit, "She hit T'saren?"

M'kon chuckles, "Still...her perrogative...she is my wingleader." The big
young man kneels down at Kassima's side.

Kassima reports with some relish, "Gave him a black eye. Then went off with
Tas and May t'go get pregnant or some such thing. And that's nonsense...
nay even I've skinned a Wingrider, and I have *L'cher* flying for me. You
know I've been tempted." Flicking a wry smile at the young man, she mutes
her voice some. "Seriously, now. *Are* you feeling any better?"

Leya nods very seriously to M'dei, but perhaps nodding a little to hard.
She takes the wineskin and squeezes what little that's left in it into her
mouth. "I all right," she smiles her wide, lopsided grin at M'dei, leaning
toward him. Oops, leaned a little to far. She begins to fall toward M'dei,
she's either going land against him or hit the ground.

M'kon shrugs his big shoulders, "No...but I can think now. I just have to
get over it." Kind of flat toned, really. "I should be happy for Is, really."

Kassima settles back to a ginger seat beside the bronzerider, folding her
arms. "I know--well, and I *should* know--that Taralyth's won flights
a'fore," she thinks aloud. "And I somehow doubt you're jealous of him
getting Saskia, though you can correct me if I'm wrong. Is it that 'twere
hoping Nioth would have a chance t'be siring a clutch, then?"

M'kon chuckles, "I'd be content knowing the big lump wasn't a complete
failure...but really. He's got everything now. Beautiful daughter, lots of
friends...now Taralyth's going to be a sire." He shrugs a bit more, a
rueful expression he doesn't realize comes from his mother. He's just not
old enough to hide it yet. "Guess I'm jealous over all."

Quick reflexes are a good thing, it seems. M'dei, not much inclined to let
Leya hit the ground when he can prevent it, catches Leya with strong arms.
A glimmer of amusement flickers through his expression before concern takes
hold again, and he peers down at the brownrider curiously. "Are you alright?"

M'kon starts a bit, and glances over at his clutchmate in concern. "Leya?"

Lanryi winces slightly at M'dei's close save and says, "It's a good thing
you didn't get anything stronger Leya."

Kassima aims a light poke at M'kon's ribs. "*Nay* dragon is a complete
failure," she points out, rather firm. "And if'n such a thing could happen,
that dragon would be dead in its first Fall. Nay having a sex life isn't
being a total failure, or at least, I should *hope* nay; doesn't bode well
for me otherwise." A faint smile flickers to life at the shrug; she
probably can recognize it. "You've friends, too, y'know. And if'n you want
a child, I've nay doubt you could find a woman t'be obliging. Shells, Ryi
probably would if'n the Healers didn't say 'twasn't safe for her. Then
you'd really be even." A concerned glance is shot towards Leya, too, and
she mutters, "Her rest day didn't go quite as I'd hoped, methinks."

Leya blinks blankly up at M'dei, then giggles, "Good catch." She turns her
head as she hears her name spoken, looking at both Lanryi and M'kon, with
that silly grin plastered on her face. "I'm fine, really," she slurrs.

M'kon smiles a bit as Leya 'recovers', then shakes his head a bit, "Can't,
Kassima. I promised I wouldn't." Even if I wanted to, the tone says.

"Promised you wouldn't?" Kassi sounds confused. "What, promised Is you'd
nay be having children? That's... well, that's one I've never heard a'fore,
'twill confess it."

M'dei's hands move to Leya's elbows, without really releasing her at all.
All traces of a smile are gone as he looks down at his clutchsib, then he
looks over at Kassima and M'kon with a helpless shrug. "Are you certain?"
he asks, his attention turning back toward the brownrider yet again.

M'kon chuckles, just a little, and flushes. "No...that I wouldn't go off
with anyone else, outside a flight. Which I think is why he was so mad at
me...I didn't mean to....Saskia was just uh...persuasive. He gets sad, at
the idea." There's a stupid sort of melacholy to his tone, blind even. "I
even promised him I wouldn't talk to anyone about us being us...but he
talked first and didn't tell me."

Leya completely relaxes in M'dei's arms, her eyes beginning to drop a
little, though her eternal grin is still on her face, "Sure." Well, at
least she is right now, but wait until the morning.

Kassima assimilates this, brows slowly dipping down to crease a furrow
between them. "Myk, if'n you're monogamous, then why aren't you in the same
weyr, anyway?" she wants to know. "When I figured out the puzzle of who he
was sweet on--and it took me longer than it should've, 'twill admit, but
life's been distracting lately--I wondered, but I've nay gotten a chance
t'be asking him yet. Mayhaps now he'll be understanding." A flicked glance
weyr-wards. "Or mayhaps nay. He wants you t'be only his; that's a good
sign, if'n he means it t'be reciprocated... and really, I don't know why
he'd ask the last. Naught t'be ashamed of, after all. Naught 'tall."

M'kon shrugs a bit, helpless, "I know...but he thinks so. So..."

M'dei shifts his arms once again, now holding close rather than holding up.
There *is* a difference, after all. "All right, if you're certain.
Certainly can't argue with that smile on your face," he says finally, with
a helpless sigh and a shrug.

M'kon shrugs a bit more, "And I dunno...he was like this after Taralyth
caught...greens. I'll never understand holdbreds, I don't think."
Notice...he avoids the question of one weyr.

Leya moves her shoulders, snugling in closer, her face turned up to M'dei.
She giggles suddenly, "You look cute when you do that."

Kassima points out with a half-smile, "I'm Holdbred, Myk. And I don't
understand wanting t'keep it secret, anyway, even if'n I can certes
understand wanting monogamy. I never did really get used t'E'vrin having
Sabra as his other lover, and we weren't even a real pair." Tilting her
head, she asks, "Like what after Taralyth caught greens?" A brief, shrewd
glance would suggest she did notice that evasion.

M'kon considers a moment, before explaining, "Was more worried...about me
going off with someone else...and I haven't. Ever." Another shrug, a mix of
helplessness and newly sprouted frustation behind it. Ah,
complexity...doesn't suit a simple soul well.

M'dei, predictably, colours at Leya's remark, and shakes his head. "Mm-hmm,
remind me of that again tomorrow and I'll believe it," he says teasingly.

"Afraid that since he'd bedded someone else, you'd feel a need t'be doing
the same?" Kassima hazards, bringing her arms forward to prop against the
wine-crate and lean against its support. "Methinks you and he need t'be
talking out that tangle, Myk. Distrust will kill a pairing like naught else
can. Like rust on metal or acid on glass."

M'kon shrugs a bit, and looks doubtful of the wisdom. "I don't want him to
/leave/ Kassima..."

Leya reaches up to playfully bat at M'dei's nose. "All right," she giggles,
again. "If I 'member." She moves her hand over a bit to run a finger
lightly down his cheek, before she lets it fall back to her side.

M'dei attempts, and misses, to catch Leya's hand, and ends up just shaking
his head. Dimples flash briefly, and he suggests, "I could always remind
you?" His brown-eyed gaze catches the wineskin again, which prompts his
next question. "How much of that stuff did you have, anyway?"

Lanryi yawns and says to the riders, "I'm heading to bed - I'll have to
chat with you some other time." and wanders off with a wave.

Lanryi walks beneath the lintel and disappears into the living cavern.

"Well," agrees Kassi, sighing, "you wouldn't, but think; if'n you keep
upsetting each other, isn't it likely that one of you will eventually
leave? Can only stress a blade so much a'fore it snaps." And trust her to
use a knife metaphor. "I could talk to him about it, if'n you'd
like--without mentioning that you talked t'me. I doubt strange conversation
topics from out of the blue from me would surprise him. Wouldn't be the
first time."

M'kon looks up as Taralyth and Rinath return, and manages a valliant effort
to keep his expression from falling. "If you want, Auntie...but I
don't...well...maybe you shouldn't. I can't keep him if he doesn't want to
stay. Never could."

Leya doesn't look at the wineskin, her sapphire eyes glued to M'dei's face.
"Do that." She does answer however, "Much wine? Oh, all o'it." Her eyebrows
lift, "Did you wan' some?"

"No, I don't," M'dei tells Leya, with a quick shake of his head. "I'm just
trying to figure out how long it'll be before you fall asleep, and how bad
that headache of yours will be in the morning," he says, with a quiet chuckle.

Kassima watches the dragons with no more than mild interest, though beside
her, Lysseth makes another disgusted sound and tucks her head beneath a
wing. "Shut up, beast." That almost certainly to the green rather than to
Myk. "Nay. You can't keep someone who wants t'be leaving. But mayhaps, if'n
you told 'em ere they left how much you wanted them t'stay...." Pause.
Retreat. "Well. Just a thought, anyway."

M'kon sighs a bit, and puts his chin in his big hands, looking out towards
the sleeping bulk in the far bowl that is his dragon...the world 'failure'
written strong in red-crayon guilt across his still young features. He
opens his mouth three, four, five times...but fails to say anything.
Doesn't even 'um'.

Leya reaches up to poke at M'dei's chin, or at least that's were she's
aiming. "I'll be fine." She grins, and teases "You don' wanna headache?"

M'dei does manage to catch Leya's hand this time, and, in one of those
completely unconscious, yet very telling gestures, he lifts her hand up to
his lips for a soft kiss before he grins. "No, I've got to get back to the
Smithcraft Hall in the morning. I most assuredly do *not* want a headache
for that."

Kassima frowns at M'kon, certainly adept enough by now to read that word.
"Myk, you don't really think less of Nioth because he didn't catch a gold.
Do you?"

M'kon looks up at Kassima for a minute, then looks away, "But if he'd
impressed my brother or something...he'd've had a better chance."

"Says *whom*?" Kassi asks, with a trace of sharpness. "Says someone who
hasn't a clue what they're speaking of, whoever 'tis. Nioth chose *you*.
For good reason. You're his, he's yours; he couldn't have chosen your
brother, would never have wanted to. You're the one he's meant t'be with.
And why are you thinking you make it harder for him t'be winning flights,
then?"

Leya's lopsided grin, softens at M'dei kiss, her expression dreamy. "That's
nice..." Whether that's to the kiss to her hand or him going to Smithcraft
in the morning is up to you to figure out.

M'kon's expression as he looks back up at Kassima says it all without
words: Because I'm a Loser? Note the capital L.

Kassima rolls her eyes, a 'Shyeah, right' without words. Look, it's turning
into Valley Telgar. Like, y'know? "Myk. You underestimate yourself, y'know.
And shouldn't. Da has a saying, one of his few that make sense--'Argue for
your limitations, and sure enough, they're yours.'"

M'kon frowns just a bit, "What's one thing I've done to say otherwise?"

M'dei smiles warmly at Leya and releases her hand in favor of putting his
arm back around her. "I hate to say this, but...I really ought to go. I'm
due back at the Hall early."

"You've fought Thread. You've done so well. You've been a friend, a good
son t'your mother, a good Wingrider, a good *person*, a good lifemate
t'Nioth--" Kassi lists, ticking off fingers. "That's just staying general,
too."

M'kon sighs a bit and mutters, "But that's what /anyone/ should do...."

Kassima points out gently, "And that's what makes you a good person, Myk.
Thinking so. Accepting it as just what should be rather than as something
that makes you special. You're just taking it too far. Look at it this way,
mayhaps--can you be denying that you're a major improvement over, say,
Myklarr?"

Leya's smiles finally disappears at that. She pouts, her lower lip sticking
out as she blinks up at M'dei, "You do? You have to?"

M'kon sighs a bit, and announces suddenly, "I haven't eaten all day...and I
owe you those marks." He seems to have forgotten what his bet was...just
that he always looses them. He didn't inherit THAT from his mother. "I'll
uh...see you after Aurian skins me." In other words...run away. Run
awaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!

Oh, great. Now she's pouting. With a pained smile, M'dei says, "I really
ought. I'll be dead tired in the morning otherwise."

Kassima gives M'kon a peculiar look. "Myk, you don't owe me marks. I owe
you marks. But I can be getting 'em t'you later--eating is good, eating is
very good. Sleep is also good. And the bratlets and I are overdue for some,
I must confess. Just remind Auri a'fore she does it that socking a
Weyrsecond's worse than yelling at a Wingleader, hey?"

Yes, Leya's pouting, and sniffling and giving M'dei big, sorrowful puppy
dog eyes. She doesn't say anything just looks up at him with that pitiful,
pathetic expression on her face.

M'kon stretches his huge frame a bit, until muscles and bone pop most
impressively. An almost embarrassment of riches, in the physical sense.
Then he's gone, high tailing it to the living caverns for something to eat.

M'dei winces visibly this time, and is absolutely no match for that pout.
Or those eyes. Or any of it. "Oh, alright. I suppose it wouldn't hurt me to
stay up for awhile longer, hm?"

M'kon walks beneath the lintel and disappears into the living cavern.

Kassima, were she anyone but Kassima, would probably leer after Myk. As is,
she only gives an amused grin, waves to the other riders who probably are
too busy to notice, and climbs aboard her own dragon. "Come on, Lyss. You
can resume grumbling once we get to the weyr."

You place one hand on Lysseth's neck and she warbles down at you fondly.
You grin and scratch her eyeridges once before climbing up onto her lower
neckridges, using the riding straps and Lysseth's thoughtfully offered
foreleg.

<*> Lysseth spreads her wings to their full extent, bringing them down with
a rush of wind as she leaps nimbly into the air.

You spring into the air and catch the thermals rising from the bowl floor
to carry you aloft.