Phediath's Maiden Flight

Madelynda, eyes fastened on the floor of the living cavern, moves quickly to the serving table without a word and seems to debate between wine and klah as she stands frozen before it. The weyrwoman startles as Lusani calls, whipping around to face the bluerider with wide eyes. After a forced lowering of her shoulders and a nervous swallow, she finally answers in a low voice, "Good even."

Kyriel takes another small sip of wine. "Not bad, Germaine."

Xellia bows in greeting to all. "Good evening all!"

Lal shivers. "Yow n'firestone, th'room just go'cold."

Ista Bowl> Above you, Berizeth glides lower into the bowl, eventually backwinging gracefully near the living caverns to the southeast, scattering several firelizards on his way.

Lusani blinks at Maddy, waving to a seat beside her, "Nice to see you again." she keeps talking, apparently hoping this will distract Madelynda from whatever it is making her nervous. "How've you been?"

Germaine frowns as she watches Madelynda's progress through the cavern, eyeing the younger goldrider closely from behind her wineglass.

Ista Bowl> Above you, Channeth glides lower into the bowl, eventually backwinging gracefully near the living caverns to the southeast, scattering several firelizards on his way.

Germaine nods pleasantly to Xellia as she rises suddenly from her chair, draining the mug of wine and taking up the wineskin. She murmurs something quietly to P'ral and Kyriel before giving Madelynda another look.

Madelynda takes a step forward toward Lusani and the seat she indicates; indecisive, she looks back to the serving table again, motionless; after a long moment she turns around again and--feet hitting the ground hard with each deliberate step--makes her way to Lusani. "I have been..." she begins to answer, then starts to blink, as if she's suddenly forgotten what she was going to say. And so, she just stands there, staring.

Zarana watches Madelynda curiously and then looks over at Lusani.

Kyriel blinks at Germaine, "Oh fun."

Shast enters from the narrow corridor.

Lusani blinks, puzzled, and reaches out a hand. "C'mon, sit down. What's wrong?" she asks, concerned for her friend. "You want some klah or something?"

Xellia walks down the corridor.

Lal's face twists in concern. "Uh oh."

Germaine mutters to Kyriel, looking more than a little chagrined, "Sorry. It's not like I'd forgotten, but..." She glances to Madelynda, then finishes, "...Isadith...the flight."

Lal starts to cough.

Shast strolls in casually from the lower caverns, He naively smiles and waves to everyone he knows, oh sure Phediath's been getting brighter recently but he has no idea that she's close to rising.

Germaine nods to her tablemates then heads toward the Bowl, stopping beside Madelynda for a moment to speak quietly with the younger woman.

Ista Bowl> High above the bowl, Kemith emerges from Between with a blast of cold air!

Zarana watches quietly, also not sure what's going on.

Ista Bowl> High above the bowl, Nraith emerges from Between with a blast of cold air!

Kyriel grins at Germaine, "It happens."

Germaine sends a grin toward Kyriel before turning her attention back to Madelynda.

Ista Bowl> Above you, Kemith circles silently down from the sky, and his huge wings hold steady as he rides the air currents below the rim of the bowl.

Madelynda's brow furrows as Lusani speaks, eyes staring hard at the bluerider as if attempting to process the questions. "Um, sit?" she says hesitantly, her glance moving to the chair. With a nod, she moves to it and sits, resuming her examination of Lusani. "And...what was it?" Blinking, she glances at Kyriel, Lal, Zarana, and finally Germaine, repeating, "I'm sorry...what?"

Lal says "We was askin' how y'were, Maddy. Although I think I know th'answer........"

Lal whistles.

Germaine squeezes the younger goldrider's arm gently, repeating her murmured words, then, with a sympathetic smile, heads out toward the Bowl.

Shast looks at the mass cogregating around Madelynda and slowly begins to walk toward it, suddenly picking up what might be happening he walks faster toward the group.

Germaine walks outside, into the bowl.

Ista Bowl> Mounted atop Kemith, Channie looks over at A'lex, "I don't get to Ista often. I'm not sure where we should go to look."

Lal suddenly rubs her forehead, looking peevish. "Oh shut up Areseth..." She mutters to herself.

Ista Bowl> Above you, Isadith climbs higher toward the sky, her wings powerfully beating the air as she gains altitude.

Ista Bowl> Seated atop Nraith, A'lex says "Nraith is checking with his father..."

Lusani blinks, looks up, then sighs and nods. Looking over to Zarana, she grins wryly. "Congratulations. You're about to experience a goldflight."

Ista Bowl> Areseth has arrived.

Ista Bowl> Astride Nraith, A'lex says "Southeastish!"

Ista Bowl> Brassier takes off from his place on Areseth, who looks visibly relieved. He preens himself, making sure the pesky flit didn't muss his hide up.

Zarana blinks and her eyes go as round as saucers, "...a flight?..."

Ista Bowl> Nraith travels southeast towards the living cavern.

Shast sighs for a momment and then just stares affectionatly at Madelynda, not sure what he should do or say.

Lusani nods at Zarana, then says, "Myn is a blue and isn't going to get involved, and I thoughtmaybe if you want to go somewhere else for the duration, I can give you a ride.

Kyriel grins after Germaine, and takes a glance at Madelynda.

Ista Bowl> Kemith travels southeast towards the living cavern.

Lal keeps muttering to herself. "Aw buggers n'boiled grubs."

Ista Bowl> High above the bowl, Ularrith emerges from Between with a blast of cold air!

Zarana's eyes go even wider, if that's possible, "You would give me a ride Lusani?" She shakes her head, "No, I could not bother you with that, I will simply go back to the residents dorms."

Madelynda, still looking where Germaine had gone, finally realizes she's left and darts up and out of her seat. "Oh, oh, she's left...that means...." She frowns, pacing the distance between her chair and the serving table, bumping misplaced chairs in her way and sending them to teetering dangerously. "That's important, when she leaves...oh..."

Lusani chuckles. "Really, it's not a problem. I've got places I should be visiting anyhow...."

Shast walks toward Madelynda and holds her lightly trying to steady her, "Maddy? You alright?" He asks vainly.

Lal clicks her tongue. She gets up from her table then, to try to comfort Madelynda. "Aww jays, Maddy, s'awright..."

Zarana rises rather quickly and snags the teetering chairs, pushing them a bit away from the Goldrider. She looks back to Lusani, "Um, could you then? How would I get back though? Are you sure it's not a problem?"

Lusani's gaze darts from Maddy to Zandra, and she gives a silent thumbs-up signal to her friend before smiling again. "I'll pick you up when it's over, and no, it's not."

Madelynda looks blankly at Shast, as if processing that he's stopped her pacing, her foot lifted as if to continue the maniacal motion; slithering, she moves out of his hold, glance darting toward Lal. "Germaine...when they leave....that means that..." She swallows, her face completely white. Closing her eyes, breath quickening, she concentrates as if communing with her lifemate.

Shast watches Madelynda almost as confused as she. He decides to embrace her tell her that it'll be okay.

Lal puts her arm around Madelynda. "Tha' means y'get through it, dunna worry. Yeh'll barely remember a thing."

Embraces seem to be the -last- thing the weyrwoman wants, and she wrenches herself from it in a surprisingly smooth movement. "-No-." She says, holding out her hands. "I can't think. Tell me what that means. It's -important-." She looks around the living cavern, murmuring to herself, "...Anise would know...she would know..."

Zarana watches quietly and waits for Lusani, looking a little nervous.

Lal jumps, and growls, then claps her hand over her mouth. "Dumb move, Lal," she's muttering again.

Shast looks up at Lal, he seems to study her for a momment and then steps away as he is jerked back by Madelynda, he shakes his head and walks away from the crowd and pours himself some wine.

Kyriel takes a measuring look at Madelynda. "You'll be fine."

Marina walks in from the bowl.

Lusani gives Madelynda a reassuring glance. "It'll be okay." she says before leaving the caverns.

Lusani walks outside, into the bowl.

Zarana follows after Lusani.

Zarana walks outside, into the bowl.

Channie walks in from the bowl.

A'lex walks in from the bowl.

Marina steps to one side of the entrance as all the people leave and then says to those following her in, "The kitchens are over in that direction. You'll want to look for a woman wearing a blue dress and white apron."

Ista Bowl> Myndirth bends down to whuffle his lifemate as she approaches, and then to do the same to Zarana, and finally extend his forearm for them both to climb up.

A'lex looks about the Cavern and salutes, "Telgar's duties."

Ista Bowl> Zarana wows at the blue and follows hesitently after Lusani, "I just climb up?" She asks timidly.

Channie looks in the direction Marina pointed and nods to her with a warm smile. "Thank you kindly."

Madelynda almost jumps at the sound of A'lex's voice, eyes furiously blinking. She tries to say something--a formal greeting, or some such other weyrwomanlike response--but stands silently, the words just not forming or voicing. Suddenly, she remembers, her face breaking into a wild and wide smile as she calls out victoriously, "Ista's duties!"

A'lex smiles, "Madelynda! Good to see you again!"

Lal waves from a corner where she has decided to sulk. "'lo, Ista's duties."

Shast shakes his head again. Not wanted to watch this anymore he takes the wineskin and a glass with him out into the bowl.

Channie flutters her lashes at the tone of the voice and murmurs an overly polite, "Highreaches duty to Ista and her queens."

Shast walks outside, into the bowl.

Marina stops off at the juice table to get a drink before heading to the Belior table and dumping her straps down. Her head snaps up at Madelynda's curious greeting.

A'lex looks about, "Kitchen... right..."

Channie heads away from the seating tables towards the hearths.

A'lex heads away from the seating tables towards the hearths.

Carinah walks in from the bowl.

E'ryn walks in from the bowl.

E'ryn strides into the cavern, having a smile, and a friendly nod for each person he meets on his way in.

Lal eyes E'ryn. She flicks a glance at Madelynda. Eyes E'ryn again.

Madelynda glances to Channie and repeats loudly, "Ista's duties!" from where she stands in the middle of the room, the plastered smile fading as she seems to look inward for a moment; as Carinah and E'ryn walk in, she startles again, crossing her arms across her chest as if for protection. Her expression, should it be able to speak, would say something about bronze and brown riders closing in on her.

Carinah stops just inside the caverns, a set of straps slung over her shoulder. Before even looking about, she hangs the straps upon a peg in the wall, careful to arrange them just right.

Marina looks sidelong at Madelynda and then looks down at the floor as she bespeaks her dragon. Finally, with a nod she walks tentatively over to Madelynda. "Greetings weyrwoman", she says carefully.

Ista Bowl> Zarana grabs a riding strap and pulls themself to a seat on Myndirth.

Madelynda now looks at Marina as she nears, face still white. "Uh...good even'?" she says uncertainly, the greeting an experiment in responding in a noble and honorable way. Eyes dart around the cavern once more, and her arms tense as their cross tightens across her chest.

E'ryn doesn't seem to notice the way Lal's looking at him. Nor does he specifically look in Madelynda's direction. What he does do is greet some if the unfamiliar people to the weyr, and give them a kind word.

Dragon> Ista dragons sense that Parth crooons and thrums softly. His tail swishes back and forth where he rests in the sand as eagerness and anticipation seem to surge through his blood as moments pass. << Phediath is soooo nice and gold.. >> He says absorbedly.

Dragon> Areseth bespoke Ista dragons with << I know. I can always tell when a dragon is bright because I have arguments with my rider. >>

Ista Bowl> High above the bowl, Zmeth emerges from Between with a blast of cold air!

Marina takes a seat on the bench near Madelynda. In a calm and composed voice she says, "Madelynda, we're friends right? It'll be alright. Everything will be alright."

Ista Bowl> Twitter flies in from the lower caverns to the southeast.

Dragon> Ista dragons sense that Zmeth bugles loudly as he blinks out of between.

Ista Bowl> Myndirth flies up into the air

Ista Bowl> Above you, Genneth climbs higher toward the sky, her wings powerfully beating the air as she gains altitude.

Ista Bowl> High above the bowl, Genneth disappears into Between.

Carinah casts a long glance around the caverns now. Her gray eyes, eventually, settle upon Madelynda, but she chooses to give the weyrwoman her space. Glancing back towards the bowl entrance, her nose wrinkles mildly before she turns and heads back out into the evening air.

Ista Bowl> In the corrals, Parth backwings to land in a huge rush of air.

Ista Bowl> Above you, Zmeth glides lower into the bowl, eventually backwinging gracefully near the living caverns to the southeast, scattering several firelizards on his way.

Ista Beach> In the air overhead, Ularrith circles down into the bowl, water dropping off of him like rain.

Ista Bowl> Above you, Beltanth disappears into Between.

Ista Bowl> In the corrals, Berizeth backwings to land in a huge rush of air.

Madelynda nods slowly as Marina speaks, oddly comforted by her tone. "Yes....friends," she manages to say, arms still tightly crossed. A noise from the bowl distracts her, however, and her breath quickens. "Oh no..." she murmurs.

Ista Bowl> High above the bowl, Rhonneth emerges from Between with a blast of cold air!

Ista Bowl> Above you, Myndirth climbs higher toward the sky, his wings powerfully beating the air as he gains altitude.

Carinah walks outside, into the bowl.

Ista Bowl> Above you, Rhonneth circles silently down from the sky, and his huge wings hold steady as he rides the air currents below the rim of the bowl.

Ista Bowl> In the corrals, Kemith backwings to land in a huge rush of air.

Ista Bowl> Melina leans over the big brown's neck and slides to the ground.

Ista Bowl> In the corrals, Rhonneth backwings to land in a huge rush of air.

Channie walks over from the hearths.

A'lex walks over from the hearths.

A'lex looks at E'ryn, "I didn't know that..." He shakes his head...

Ista Bowl> In the corrals, Parth arrives in the corrals in a glory of mottled dark browns. Translucent wings flex wide as he gently wings over the animals below. Glowing eyes that swiftly turn to a hue of deep crimson stare intensely over those creatures just waiting below for the grasp of his claws. He dives, body sinking through the sky toward the ground, talons outstretched. He pounces on a bleeting herdbeast and brings it down with his jaws fastened at its throat. He savages it brutally as he clenches the ground with his hind claws to hold himself steady as he begins to blood.

Ista Bowl> In the corrals, Nraith backwings to land in a huge rush of air.

P'ral walks outside, into the bowl.

Ista Bowl> In the corrals, Zmeth backwings to land in a huge rush of air.

E'ryn pauses for a moment, eyes going unfocused. Slowly he stands and straightens. He looks at A'lex as the bronzerider approaches and speaks to him. Slowly he asks. "Didn't know what?"

Marina casts a distracted glance out to the bowl and then offers her hand to Madelynda. "Come, we have to go. She will wake soon. Just remember, blood only. It won't be easy but you must control her, now more than ever. Don't give in to her wishes." Marina stands but still tries to maintain her composure to reassure Madelynda.

Channie pouts out her lips prettily, "Guess the kiwi will have to wait." she murmurs.

Ista Bowl> In the corrals, Ularrith backwings to land in a huge rush of air.

Ista Bowl> High above the bowl, Solarith emerges from Between with a blast of cold air!

Ista Bowl> In the corrals, Nraith dives screaming for a runnerbeast, snapping its spine before it can even run. Landing, he tears his throat open, drinking deeply.

A'lex says "Flight... didn't know..."

Ista Bowl> In the corrals, Rhonneth darts into the corral, wings pinned to his back. At the last moment, they open, snapping loudly into the evening air. His claws snatch up a large buck and rends it, killing the creature in a squeal of the beast's pain. He lands and begins to lap up its scarlet lifeblood.

Ista Bowl> In the corrals, Channeth backwings to land in a huge rush of air.

Channie giggles and looks around for something to drink. Anything. It's too hot here for this little 'Reaches rider to begin with, and her dragon deciding he's going to go randy on her isn't making things easier on her.

Madelynda, silent, nods slowly and takes Marina's hand with her pale white one. "Blood her...yes. That's what Anise said." A slight smile appears on her mouth, and her body relaxes, as if that were the information that she was worrying over. "Thank you, Marina," she murmurs, then looks to the bowl.

Melina walks in from the bowl.

Ista Bowl> In the corrals, Berizeth descends upon the far end of the corrals, scaring several herdbeast from the relative safety of the corral fence, flushing them into the open. With little preamble, he falls upon a buck, lashing it open with a well-aimed bat of his foreleg. His tail flickers restlessly behind him as he dips his muzzle into the beast, drinking of its blood, and whirling eyes shade to a vibrant purple-red as they scan the territory surrounding him and his kill.

A'lex takes off his jacket, hanging it by the door. He looks a bit pale. Turning to Channie he says, "Grab something for me as well, could you?"

Melina smiles, "Telgar's Duties" She turns her grin to A'lex then takes a seat.

Ista Bowl> In the corrals, Ularrith skims low over the corral, wings beating strongly now and then to lift him out of the way of the males feeding there. He circles slowly back around before plunging towards the ground, jaws spread. With a mocking bellow he snatches a plump bovine right out from under a greenish-bronze dragon muzzle. A few more strong wingbeats carries himself and his prize over to a low, private ledge.

Ista Bowl> In the corrals, Channeth glides down and doesn't even bother landing. Instead he just continues sailing over the herds and snatches up an average sized ovine. Shaking it violently with his talons Channeth snaps the creatures neck and lands with the limp body ready for blooding.

Ista Bowl> Above you, Solarith circles silently down from the sky, and his huge wings hold steady as he rides the air currents below the rim of the bowl.

Ista Bowl> In the corrals, Zmeth narrows his gaze and snarls at the other males then snakes his head out to close his jaws upon a screaming herdbeast. He shakes his head vigorously and the herdbeast is silent after a sharp crack. He lays it on the ground and rips its throat open with a talon. Catching the first spray of blood on his muzzle, he latches on to drain every drop of energy from the carcass.

E'ryn smiles wryly at A'lex and nods "Well, Nraith didn't tell you when he came to Ista? We've known for a few days now.. " He glances at the young rider. "You going to be alright, A'lex?"

Ista Bowl> Solarith looms above, then backwings to a landing with a huge rush of air.

A'lex nods, "I'll be fine. And no, he didn't tell me."

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

Ista Bowl> In the corrals, Kemith snarls softly as he skims the feading grounds. He wastes not time in taking down the first buck that fumbles as he dives down. Tallons and strong jaws make quick work of the strugling beast as he bloods it neatly.

Ista Bowl> T'saren travels southeast towards the living cavern.

Ista Bowl> In the corrals, Rhonneth swings his head over the dead beast's corpse and slashes at its thick neck. More blood flows out into the pastures. Rhonneth dips his head and begins to suck loudly.

E'ryn nods his head and says "Well, thats a young dragon for you." He says this with a hint of wyrness in his voice.

Channie gets herself a glass of wine, and fills another for A'lex. With careful steps she wanders back to the bronzerider, extending his glass to him. "Careful." she warns, "Don't spill it."

Marina pats Madelynda's hand and looks at her face. "Alright then, we'll get through this together. Well, er, until the end at which point we'll see I guess." The last is somewhat cryptic but a grin and shrug follows.

Channie grins playfully at E'ryn and shrugs, "Kemith didn't 'warn' me either." she sighs, pretending to be put out.

Ista Bowl> M'rgan strides into the bowl from the direction of the beach. He wears only a pair of trousers and the rest of his clothes, boots, and Ularrith's riding harness are piled in his arms.

Ista Bowl> In the corrals, Solarith appears overhead as a dark shadow as he sails over the fence to backwing to a landing in the corral.

A'lex drinks, "They did it on purpose, didn't they?"

Ista Bowl> In the corrals, Solarith snakes his neck and head around, hissing at his rivals as he settles himself in the pens. Panicked beasts swirl past, and he whips out a forelimb, snapping the back of one quickly and immediately burying his teeth in its throat to suck at the hot blood within, fueling his lust.

Ista Bowl> In the corrals, Parth lifts his muzzle from his kill, his face bright scarlet as rivulets of blood stream from his jaws and down his throat to his chest. His tongue snakes out and licks at his nose before he leaps away from his previous kill, now drained and dead and lying slack on the ground. Lambent eyes gaze out over the herd once more as he takes his time in observing it.

Melina leans back a bit in her chair, neglecting to say that she wasn't warned. At least not very well. She was just coming for a visit.

Channie nods to A'lex, "More than likely. Nraith and Kem where more than willing to haul us off!" she arches her eyebrows and then takes a sip of her win.

E'ryn glances over at Channie and nods loosely. "Could it be that he thought that you wouldn't stay if you knew?" He voices this suggestion in a soft voice. His eyes slowly peruse the cavern, finally settling over where Madelynda is in an almost helpless manner.

Madelynda nods slowly, then stops, her body completely still. "She's awake." It is almost a whisper, but it is said with certainty. She turns toward the entrance to the bowl, expression resigned.

Ista Bowl> High above the bowl, Phediath launches herself off of the Star Stones' ledge.

Channie mmhmms to E'ryn quietly, keeping her eyes lowered to her drink so they don't stray just yet.

Ista Bowl> In the corrals, Ularrith rakes his talons back and forth across the bovine's throat, as if more wounds will give him more blood. He suckles for a few more seconds before pushing the dessicated corpse from the ledge with a sweep of his foreleg. Hungry, burning eyes sweep the corral, looking for his next prey.

A'lex jerks his head around at Madelynda's statement...

You walk outside, into the bowl.

Ista Weyr Bowl -- Southeast

Clusters of dragons group around the large entrance to the living cavern. Smaller entrances line up to lead to the lower caverns and the infirmary. Smoke issues forth from square holes cut into the mountain high above the living cavern. The bowl extends to the northwest, and high above, the southernmost points of the spindles reach for the sky. The sunset bathes the northeastern side of the bowl in red light.

Ruddy evening light filters down from the mostly cloudy summer sky, over the bustle of the active Weyr. Light breezes waft playfully around the peaks, through the forests, and along the beaches, causing frothy whitecaps on the surf. The temperature hovers in the warm range, while visibility is excellent. Weyrs and entrances to the lower caverns are visible on all three sides of the Weyr walls that bound you.

Contents:

T'saren

P'ral

Carinah

K'tel

Shast

Cyth

Nalimoth

Pryth(#282Jaeps)

Obvious exits:

Lower Caverns Center Bowl DragonWeyrs INFirmary Hatching Grounds

Ista Bowl> In the corrals, Channeth dumps the dry husk without a glance and lowers his sinuous neck to survey the herds again. His great head follows one beast around in particular and when the animal breaks away from the rest of the pack with a pair of its mates he launches into the air and dives down upon it, crushing it to the ground and killing it instantly.

A'lex walks out of the living cavern.

Shast watches as Madelynda walks out. He knows he shouldn't say anything so he doesn't, but he has an odd look on his face.

Madelynda, face a pale white, comes out of the living cavern, neck craning to look up above, not seeing the many people outside of the cavern.

Marina walks out of the living cavern.

E'ryn walks out of the living cavern.

Ista Bowl> In the corrals, Zmeth lifts his head slightly to let his glance dart about the corral, muzzle still latched to the herdbeast. After a moment, he opens his jaws and lets it drop. Without a second look, he tenses then leaps forward, landing in the midst of the herd. A bat and in the confusion, another beast drops. He snags it and drags it to one corner to drain this as well.

Ista Bowl> In the corrals, Solarith drains his first carcass of all its life juices, then whips it aside, flinging droplets of blood in all directions as he hisses at a brown which comes too close. His whirling violet eyes pick his next victim and with a sweep of one foreclaw, rips it open and pulls it towards him.

Ista Bowl> In the corrals, Rhonneth discards the dry beast like a dirty rag, tossing it across the pasture. He rises and launches himself at a galloping runner. He catches it neatly in his jaws and shakes it hard, snapping its neck.

Above you, Phediath circles silently down from the sky, and her huge wings hold steady as she rides the air currents below the rim of the bowl.

Channie walks out of the living cavern.

K'tel notices Madelynda come out and turns on his heel to look at her. Then his gaze is drawn upwards.

Above you, Phediath dives towards the ground.

Phediath> Like a bolt of golden lightening above the ebon-colored bowl, the great glowing form of Phediath suddenly streaks the sky as she crushes down from the Star Stones and onto an oblivious herdbeast--a massive animal, whose cry of agony stops dead as the lusty queen tears its throat in one mighty movement. Her bloody maw widens as if to consume the beast in one swallow, talons extended to their full, violent length where they grip the flapping flesh of the 'beast's shoulder.

T'saren blinks as he spots a few fellow Telgari, and then his eyes hit Madelynda's striken face. His jaw drops and he slams a fist into his thigh. "Of all the... And I thought it was some proddy green he'd taken it in mind to chase."

Phediath> Nraith bugles at the beautiful glowing gold, hurling another corpse from him, and lashing out to grab another trying to slip past him.

Marina lets go of Madelynda's hand to straighten the weyrwoman's shoulders. Quickly she whispers something into Madelynda's ear and then steps back with the other riders.

Marina whispers "Remember... control."

Phediath> Solarith lifts his bloodied muzzle and croonwarbles at the glowingly captivating queen, posing with wings fully outstretched before lowering his head back to the corpse at his feet and continuing to drain it of blood.

Channie can't help but smile at T'saren's comment but quickly averts her eyes towards the feeding grounds.

Phediath> Parth finally leaps out after a herdbeast. He's quick and agile. Lean body zips out and teeth and claws lash as he brings down his prey. His bulk covers the much smaller one of the beast he's brought down as sharp teeth rend through soft hide down to the life-blood below. His tail twitches in pleasure as soft growls emerge from his throat. His hide gleams with the energy pulsing beneath, tense in every sinew of his body. His head tilts slightly, remaining fastened still to the corpse of the beast as Phediath arrives. But oh yes, he watches her steadily, absorbed in watching her progress.

Phediath> Berizeth hunkers close to the cool ground, his gray-tipped muzzle dark with blood, tail lashing behind him now like a ship's rigging snapped about and caught in the wind of a gale. He seems to suffer the proximity of the other males, peering at them balefully, before he takes once more to the air. This time, he's found an errant buck, the animal lowing pitifully. He takes it in one truculent, frugal move. Only the arrival of Phediath causes the marbled brown to rear his head from the animal's carcass.

Phediath> Rhonneth pulls his attention from the beast at his feet to bugle at the glowing queen. His wings open and he rises to his haunches to fan them, bugling another challenge. Soon, he's back to blooding the runner, whirling eyes and attention now fixed on the gold.

Phediath> Zmeth forgets the beast he's draining to trumpet as Phediath lands. After that brief admiration, he returns to draining the herdbeast with renewed vigor. Even more quickly is it finished now. No fancy snags this time. This is serious. He reaches a foreleg out to almost flatten a wherrybuck. He yanks it back to his corner and begins drinking it's precious energy as well.

T'saren glowers faintly at Channie as his lifemate's bloodlust begins to cloud his mind. He shakes his head slowly, then turns to look Madelynda over, evaluating what he might have a chance at possessing this night.

Madelynda's eyes, staring hard at the corrals, see nothing but the form of the golden queen. "Blood....blood!" she murmurs, her teeth gritting audibly. "...Only!" she cries, her shout loud and clear to her lifemate, as if a verbal reprimand would serve best.

Carinah glances over at the young weyrwoman and the brownrider escorting her as they exit the caverns. She watches them for a long moment then steels herself with a deep breath before turning her gaze back to the distant blooding.

Phediath> Phediath's lifemate-inspired pause is as brief as a storm flash, and--with a piercing creel of defiance--she bends and gathers a large piece of flesh from the now-lifeless herdbeast's haunch, and prepares to swallow; at the last moment, as if struck by Thread, she spits out the meat in surprise before bursting into another contemptuous creel, her golden head swivelling toward the smudge of the living cavern in response to some unheard demand. Staring there, she pauses once more, tail lashing against the stone floor of the corral as her vocal protest fades into an angry hiss.

Phediath> With brutal nonchalance Ularrith leaps off of his ledge, stalking an ovine that tries desperately to escape him. Its hooves fly, kicking up a cloud of dirt, but its speed is no match for the oak-brown dragon. He casually lifts a forepaw, intending to end this chase that instant, when Phediath's arrival distracts him. Taking the opportunity given, the ovine dashes away, only to be caught in the grinding teeth of a sandy brown dragon. Ularrith growls lustfully as he looks upon the glowing queen, his neckridges rippling.

Shast watches Madelynda yell and cocentrate, holding back the private amusement he's always taken in this kind of behaviour, but the wine isn't helping.

Channie innocently ignores T'saren, or else she just doesn't notice the glower at all. Her pale eyes look at the feeding grounds, and it seems to take up her whole world.

Phediath> Solarith negligently kicks aside his second drained carcass and half-lifts off the ground in pursuit of another animal whose blood will slack his lust-born thirst. As his weight drives the beast to the dirt and breaks its neck with a resounding crack, he trumpets his prowess to the skies and the beautiful Phediath.

Phediath> Channeth crouches low to avoid the streaming form of the golden queen. With a trumpet over his right wing he salutes her and then hop-jumps over the corral sides and out of the way to blood his latest kill in peace (safety?).

K'tel wipes the sweat off his forehead with a hand then takes a few steps closer to the crowd about the goldrider.

A'lex stares towards the feeding grounds. He flicks a cautious glance towards Channie, but then quickly returns his gaze to the commotion...

E'ryn stands solid behind some of the other riders, though he takes time to take some steps forward to get a little closer to Madelynda. His gaze is only for her now, indigo eyes darkening with the burgeoning lust he's probably begining to share with his dragon.

Phediath> Rhonneth snorts in distaste as he finishes the runner. He tosses this one as unceremoniously as the first victim of his bloodlust and lashes out at a third creature, an ovine bull. This creature expires quickly, and he again dips his head to blood.

T'saren takes in all of the weyrwoman's form with his careful glance, then nods to himself approvingly. A bit small for his tastes, but those pale aqua eyes are entrancing with their sparkle. He moves a step closer, then stops again, almost uncertain.

Phediath> Zmeth finishes off the wherry, tongue snaking out to catch any last drops left on his muzzle. He moves out of the corner, closer to the beautiful Phediath, then crouches, glowing red-purple eyes fixed on her and only her.

Phediath> Kemith gives his head a shake as he lifts it form his kill and warbles sweetly to the glowing queen as she wings out over the feeding grounds. His tail lashes and he rocks to one side as his eyes track the progress of the glowing gold across the grounds to her kill. Her blooding seems to remind him of his duty to blood beasts of his own and he pounces forward onto an incomming beast, taking it down swiftly and cleanly.

Phediath> Parth snakes his tongue out as he licks at the last of the slow, sluggishly pulsing blood from his last kill. Once he gets no more, he surges forward, muscles rippling under mottled hide as he jumps into the midst of dragons and beasts in order to catch one in the confusion and fear of lesser creatures. One claw rips forward, tearing through its gut and spilling its innards, the other breaks its neck. He crows a trumpet of triumph as his jaws fasten at the warm wash of rust-red that floods from its throat. He drinks greedily from this treasure -- this feast, though he does not feed on its flesh.

Marina wipes her hands across her face with a sigh and then runs them back through her hair with a sigh. With a snort and a clench of her jaw she shakes her head in a no nonsense type gesture. "Be quick about it Channeth", she mutters under her breath. "That brown and those two bronzes over there are already one ahead."

Phediath> Berizeth watches the golden queen with intensity, his muscles growing taunt beneath a marbled hide, burnished to a soft gloss by the ruddy light of Rukbat that filters down into the corral from the evening sky. Disturbed by an encroaching bronze, he rears up onto his hidequarters, wings snapping open like a pair of billowed sails. Large for a brown, he stands solidly against the bronze, who takes flight for an easy catch. With an economical snap of his muzzle, the young brown bloods again.

Shast stands and walks to the center bowl, he can't stand how everyone's look at Maddy, anyway, there's a better view there.

Shast goes to the center of the bowl.

Phediath> Phediath tosses aside the mangled herdbeast, resentfully clawing at it as it falls to the ground in a -how dare you be empty already- movement. Neck snapping up sharply, the queen snarls at the too-close body of Zmeth, eyes whirling a violent violet. As if his nearness were the final indignity, the muscles in her haunches tremble as they gather strength to launch; and suddenly, she is airborne, with one great beat of gold wingsails, her glimmering form quickly diminishing into a flying, amber-colored moon as she rises into the sky.

Phediath> You leap into the air.

Phediath> Ista Weyr Lower Bowl Sky

Phediath> You climb with a powerful downbeat of your wings. The air is moist and scented with the sea, and the constant treacherous updrafts and cross-currents from the ocean blow around you as you climb higher above the bowl.

Phediath> Ista Weyr Upper Sky(#1280RLMae)

Phediath>

The light seems to be absorbed into the ebon spires of the Spindles that circle the eastern side of the upper bowl wall, clawing at the sky like a dragon's foot. Beyond the spindles to the east, you can see the lush green hills and mountains of Ista Isle, and far beyond that, the glimmering of the eastern sea. To the west, you can see the plateau, several hundred meters below westwards, and the vast, sparkling blue ocean beyond. Around you, dragons and firelizards sail on the dangerous air currents for which Ista is infamous. Here, high above the black caldera, the updrafts are less treacherous than they are further down in the bowl, but still dangerous to the unwary. The vast openings to the lower caverns are shadowed smudges to the south. The vast openings to the lower caverns are visible in the direct glaring sunset light on the southeastern side of the bowl below you.

Ruddy evening light filters down from the mostly cloudy summer sky, over the bustle of the active Weyr. Light breezes waft playfully around the peaks, through the forests, and along the beaches, causing frothy whitecaps on the surf. The temperature hovers in the warm range, while visibility is excellent.

Phediath> Antsy dragons can join the blooding at the 'flight' group in the corrals.

+lhelp sky map may be of further use.

Phediath> Contents:

Phediath> Myndirth(#4849OVes)

Phediath> Obvious exits:

Phediath> Upper Sky South Star Stones DragonWeyrs

Phediath> Nraith soars upward on the changing air currents, his wings powerfully beating the air as he gains altitude.

Phediath> Habrith soars upward on the changing air currents, his wings powerfully beating the air as he gains altitude.

Phediath> Rhonneth soars upward on the changing air currents, his wings powerfully beating the air as he gains altitude.

Phediath> Kemith soars upward on the changing air currents, his wings powerfully beating the air as he gains altitude.

K'tel snaps his head around to watch the dragons shoot skyward. His gaze pulls itself back to Madelynda almost immediately.

Phediath> Zmeth soars upward on the changing air currents, his wings powerfully beating the air as he gains altitude.

Phediath> Solarith soars upward on the changing air currents, his wings powerfully beating the air as he gains altitude.

M'rgan arrives from the center of the bowl.

Phediath> Channeth soars upward on the changing air currents, his wings powerfully beating the air as he gains altitude.

Channie sigh softly as she rocks back on her feet and stumbles a bit to correct herself. "Oh..." She scowls at the rider she bumped into and quickly side steps away from him.

Madelynda watches Phediath as she leaps into the sky, swallowing nervously. Suddenly, feeling the riders too close by, she shrieks softly. Eyes still concentrated, however, she makes her way toward the queens' weyrs, inevitability in her posture.

Phediath> Blooding, who needs blooding when there's the scent of gloriously gold dragon on the air, Habrith joins the chase, late but and behind many of the others, but he's here.

Phediath> The rising queen, as though the hot blood of her prey bypassed all organs and fused straight into her lust-surging ichor, shoots upward at an almost impossible angle, a high-pitched bugle tearing itself from her glowing chest in a defiant challenge. Phediath's sudden speed, arriving without warning, brings her fully forward of her bronze and brown pursuers. Wings spread wide, she climbs higher and higher toward Belior, its bright light swathing her golden form like a lover.

Phediath> Parth soars upward on the changing air currents, his wings powerfully beating the air as he gains altitude.

You walk into Phediath and Madelynda's weyr.

Phediath and Madelynda's Weyr(#11198Rh)

A weyr of simple, clean lines, it is spacious even for its size as a junior queen's weyr. Branching off the ledge, the cavern narrows to a natural baffle, beyond which can be found the living quarters with that appreciated rarity, a bathing pool of water heated by the same energy that warms the sands of the Hatching Grounds--the dry heat of which whispers through the large-arching tunnel leading there from this weyr, for the convenience of a brooding junior queen. The ledge is well-positioned, just barely above ground level, to catch the evening sunlight. Despite its amenities, the weyr is unpretentious, clean, and furnished sparsely: the massive, queen-sized dragon couch is softened by a thick bed of clean rushes; near it, a cot sits covered in a light-weight blanket and flat pillow; and a small chest sits in a corner, most likely containing the weyrwoman's clothing and other personal items.

An interesting thing catches the eye, however. Wedged into a narrow semi-circle chipped into the edge of the weyr entrance, three pieces of weather-grayed wood support a dangling dozen lengths of what might have once been harpstrings, positioned so as to whisper hushed music when the wind blew just right, although they're now sadly decayed and dirt-covered, the wood loosening from its tightly-wedged placement. A check through hides in the Weyrwoman's Records Room might confirm this, mentioning a junior queen of the last Pass-end and Interval, Shellin and her Aloriath, a pair as much famed for their skill at dragonhealing as for Shellin's boisterous parties and partnership with the Weyr's Harper. Nothing else remains to remark of their presence, they having been dead and gone for forty Turns and more.

E'ryn walks in from the bowl.

T'saren walks in from the bowl.

M'rgan walks in from the bowl.

K'tel walks in from the bowl.

Phediath> Ularrith soars upward on the changing air currents, his wings powerfully beating the air as he gains altitude.

Melina walks in from the bowl.

Phediath> Berizeth soars upward on the changing air currents, his wings powerfully beating the air as he gains altitude.

Phediath> Solarith beats his wings steadily, lifting after Phediath and her almost magnetic allure. He remains in the middle of the pack for the moment, letting the leaders tire themselves and cut the air for him while he saves his strength for the end of the flight.

Carinah walks in from the bowl.

Marina walks in from the bowl.

Phediath> Rhonneth wings after the glowing queen in smooth, almost tireless downsweeps. His bloodstained muzzle rises slightly after her and he bugles another challenge.

Channie walks in from the bowl.

L'tan walks in from the bowl.

A'lex walks in from the bowl.

A'lex moves to the center of the room and sits crosslegged, facing the young Queenrider.

Phediath> Zmeth is caught in the wake of the golden beauty. Almost on their own accord, his wings stretch forward, muscles strain. Slightly unused to the Istan wind patterns, he stays just outside the pack for now, concentrating all his thoughts and energy on Phediath's moon-bathed form.

Melina takes a seat right in the middle of the weyr. Her eyes are distant and she sways ever so slightly in her spot.

L'tan trudges in, a more than relucant look engrained upon his face. His shirt is half-in, half-out of his trousers and his hair is wet. One boot is completely missing. He mutters something about a 'sharding bloody bronze who doesn't know when to keep it sheathed.'

T'saren takes up a place next to the queen's couch, hands clenched into fists at his sides as he looks from rider to rider, checking attitude. Finally his gaze settles on Madelynda, and he runs the tip of his tongue across his lips, moistening them in a vaguely erotic gesture.

A'drin walks in from the bowl.

K'tel glances around then chooses a convenient wall to lean up against. He wipes his palms on his pants then sinks down, eyes drifting over to watch Madelynda.

Phediath> Nalimoth soars upward on the changing air currents, his wings powerfully beating the air as he gains altitude.

Phediath> Channeth bugles triumphantly as the chase starts. Whether that bugle is for the golden beauty so far away all of a sudden or the other males crowding around is uncertain. What is certain though is the joy in that outburst and the clear ring of challenge. Pushing his wings against the air currents he quickly gains altitude and dodges agily around a bronze.

M'rgan slowly makes his way into the weyr, having done enough flights over the past 8 turns that he is able to retain some small bit of himself. His eyes flick over the faces all around him until he spots Madelynda. He moves closer to her, water from his abruptly-ended swim dripping from his hair to the floor. With a lift of his chin he drops the clothes and straps he has piled in his arms in front of her, as if making her responsible for his current dilemma. He remains only in a pair of trousers, bare feet peering out from under the cuffs.

E'ryn follows Madelynda into the weyr. Indigo eyes narrow slightly and then focus on the weyrwoman. He stands -- not too far away from her, and within a good distance to where he could almost touch her.

Channie lingers in the doorway and then takes a deep breath and walks in, closing her eyes. She takes the spot against the wall, closest to the door. Hugging her arms around herself she keeps her eyes closed, centering all her efforts and attentions on her lifemate.

Phediath> Berizeth flicks his sorrel wings open with a decisive snap, catching the Istan's winds with a practiced ease. The light breeze running over the caldera below is no hindrance this evening. His wings fill, buffetting him up into the converging pack of males, and the shadows of the dragons that chase each other and one ultimate prize across the ground begin to dwindle as the flight gains altitude.

Madelynda blinks by the entrance, watching as the riders file in past her and settle in -her- weyr. Expression hard, breath in short gasps, her eyes dart from person to person as she murmurs, "...not catching her...none of you..."

Phediath> Kemith wings up in the thick of the pack. Wings beating easily and powerfully as he holds his small space between the flurry of bronze and brown wings that blur all around him. He cannot see her but he can feel her glowing like the sun ahead of them all.

Phediath> Parth soars up after Phediath as she climbs through the sky. He bugles again in a distinctly challanging tone. Wings spread wide as they pummel at the air, sails billowing with each thrust and push against the wind. He climbs relentlessly, all of his muscles working together in an effort to surpass every other male competing with him. Black-flecked brown hide gleams with murky glow as dim light splays across his body.

A'lex smirks.

K'tel lowers his eyes as the weyrwoman looks around. Abruptly feeling too warm, he struggles to pull off his jacket, laying it next to him on the floor. He glances back, not able to look anywhere else for long.

T'saren smiles to himself at the weyrwoman's words, almost an unspoken challenge. "Well one of them has to," he murmurs softly, "unless you plan on risking her by going between."

Phediath> Ularrith drops his shoulder, banking dangerously through the pack until he ends up just behind his bronze son, Solarith. Cannily, he remains in the bronze's slipstream, Solarith's tail mere feet from the end of his nose. His spread wings beat steadily as he lets the Benden bronze do all of the work. All that his impassioned eyes can see is a golden-bronze behind, but that will change soon. That he knows.

Phediath> Nraith pumps his wings, straining after the queen. Through the air, romantic Nraith glides, and discerns with keen, discriminating sight, black 's not so black,--nor white so very white as this Gold is lovely this very night. He moves himself quickly towards the top of the group, making for more altitude...

Carinah steps into the weyr, hurried along on both sides by two eager riders, their gazes already bright with unwarranted anticipation. She pulls back from the two, claiming the weyr's entrance for herself, ashen eyes narrowed as she glowers after the two riders.

Melina raises an eyebrow at the weyrwoman, and a grin plays upon her lips. Not a word escapes them though, just content to look at Madelynda.

Marina wanders into the weyr with only one distracted bump against a wall. She blinks several times to survey the surroundings and decides to lean against a wall. With a derisive snarl to T'saren she says, "May the best dragon have the honor."

Phediath> Nalimoth launches himself after the pack, a wings'beat or so behind but certainly not one to lose heart by this slight setback. Dark wings unfurl to pull at the air, sails filling with the winds and thrusting it away with each draw. Already his limbs draw tight up against his sides, streamlining his form, transmographying his silhouette into that of a dark bolt launched into the trailing radiance that is the queen.

A'drin scuttles in a tad bit late, rather to his dismay, hands tucked deep into the folds of his tunic for security or safety or simple need for some tangible substance Here rather than Up There. As it is, though, he draws a quiet breath, moving to take himself a place sort of out of the way, but still commanding a fair watch of where Madelynda's settled.

E'ryn shoots a dark look at T'saren. How dare that bronzerider from another weyr tell Madelynda what she must and mustent do? His eyes narrow, darkening to almost violet. Meanwhile he undoes his jacket as sweat beads his brow, as if hoping to cool off.

Phediath> Phediath, oblivious at first to the brown- and bronze-colored and looming forms of Ularrith and Solarith, slows her fervent pace upward, letting out a chitterful rumble of victory--as if she had already won, so lust-certain is the young queen of her own strength and wit. Her speed lessening, the mistake allows Solarith to near, almost foul her wings...but at the last moment, hissing in anger, Phediath shoots three dragonlengths ahead and evasively manuevers from side-to-side, resuming her harsh angle upward as she darts fiercely left and right in a herringbone pattern.

T'saren bares his teeth at Marina in an amused smirk. "And I'm certain the best dragon will, if my Solarith has his way." Subtle challenge it isn't, and he shakes his head mockingly at her.

E'ryn's look in his direction gets one that matches returned.

Phediath> Habrith struggles along at the rear of the pack, only a few browns trail behind him - the lack of blooding telling. Only the promise of shared delights (even if the prospect is looking even more steadily dim) keeps the bronze flying at all. He cranes his head up and up, catching a glint of moonlight gleaming upon golden wings.

Phediath> Sensations sweet, Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart drive Nraith forward after the beauty before him. Muscles strain and wings beat to the rhythm of his passion. Faster, harder and driven by mere will alone, he chases, weaving back and forth, higher and higher.

Phediath> Rhonneth flies straight and true, trying to wing just a bit higher the the beautiful queen's path. His eyes whirl in undulating tones from indigo to deep lavendar, shining brightly in the evening sky. How the fading light seems to pale at the gold's form. How she herself seems to light the sky. He croons after her and rises with smooth wingbeats.

Phediath> Solarith feels the presence of the High Reaches brown that is his sire behind him, but never takes his eyes off his goal. A low, growling hiss is a warning to Ullarith and the queen's other suitors that he will rake talons across them if they don't beware. He was here when Phediath hatched, and he must be here for her now. Nothing will stand, or fly, in his way. As the object of his desire comes within reach suddenly he reaches out for her with grasping forelimbs, but she's gone again before he can make good his attempt.

L'tan's bad-temper, worsened by the interrupted bath and the time-wasting flight, shows throw as he just finds the closest wall, limps over to it and leans against it, if a controlled fall into the rocky face can be called a lean. He sucks in a breath at the pain and grunts, "Oh, do bloody be quiet, all of you."

Madelynda seems utterly absorbed and inside the mind of her lifemate as they steadily--inevitably--become more and more one. Taking a few steps away from the entrance to the weyr, eyes still vacant, she slowly comes to her knees onto the cold stone floor. "...Yes! That's the way! They can't catch us, my love...no one can catch us..."

A'lex sighs...

Phediath> Parth flexes his wings in controled manuvers. He darts around some of the other dragons as best as he can -- either avoiding them or skirting around them as he follows in the chase for Phediath. Wings pulse through the air, vibrating with energy as they stretch to a semi-opaque fullness. Large wings pump at a punishing pace as he flies the fastest he can in order to pace some of the bronzes and keep up with them.

Phediath> Zmeth's eyes narrow and their color deepens as the young queen is almost caught! Too early! He redoubles his efforts, not wanting to be left behind in this chase. He shoots forward, bringing himself even with the front of the pack in a short time. Wings pumping and great heart beating ever harder, he pulls closer to the glowing beauty, length by length. He swings slightly to one side to avoid coming up on the tails of Ularrith and the presumptious young bronze that almost ended this too soon.

Phediath> Channeth bugles to Ularrith in approval of the maneuver and decides to try a different tactic of his own. He dips his wing down to quickly zig out to the left side of the pack. His great head swings back and forth in echo of Phediath's motions but he doesn't try to follow her, instead he sends her a series or bugles and trumpets like a draconic serenade. With a quick glance at Parth's forward movement he also darts forward to match wingbeats with the brown.

Phediath> Nalimoth banks slightly, letting himself be swept off to the left edge of the pack by errant winds, both those natural and born of the downsweeps of the wings of his competitors. This lines him up rather behind and to the side of a rather larger dragon than himself, but so long as that other fails to come between himself and the firey comet-brilliance he seeks, little mind is given. Indigo stains the orbs of his eyes -- indigo and violet, colours echoed in his hide, given warmth by the light of the setting sun -- whirling passionate and hungry.

Phediath> Berizeth pursues the glorious golden queen, made even more brillant by the slant of a slowly setting sun, with quiet, stalwart dilligence. Powerfully muscled wings beat the air, its excesses slipping over his wingsails like water through the scuppers of a ship, making him light, buoyant, urging him on. Neck strained forward, he watches Phediath soar, angling after her until another brown bursts through two larger bronzes, forcing him to bank left. His motility, surprising in a brown his size, works to his advantage, and he finds clear skies, gaining on the right side of the pack.

Phediath> Kemith rumbles his sullen frustration at being boxes in. A brown in this side, a bronze on the other, under and above him whirling, churing wings and tails. He reings in his temper, keeping his position in the pack, they will have to move as she moves, and then he will break free. Hopefully it will not be too late.

T'saren reaches out a hand towards Madelynda in an echo of his lifemate's own attempt, but it comes up short as does Solarith's. A grimace of thwarted effort crosses his face, but it's still early and more tries will be had later.

A'lex cranes his neck forward, mimicing his lifemate above, stretching...

Phediath> Ularrith darts -- well, as well as a 100 foot long dragon can dart -- out from behind his son's rear as Phediath comes in sight. He knifes forward through the air, struggling, reaching, stretching...But just as Solarith misses her, he does too. With a mournful croon and an answering hiss to Solarith, he drops back into position, still continuing to shadow the Benden bronze.

K'tel's face stills as all his concentration is demanded by his lifemate. His eyes are fixed on Madelynda but his mind is lengths above.

E'ryn pushes his jacket back, and then off of his arms, leaving him without it and pooled on the ground. He watches Madelynda -- saying nothing. No need to tell her that it is inevitable that her dragon -- and she will be caught. Why anger her? However, intent shines deep in his eyes and shows in the tenseness of his mucles.

Phediath> Phediath's wide wings, vigorously fighting the contrary air currents, are caught by a strong gust that forces her to diminish the angle of her ascent. With an angry trumpet, seemingly directed at both the uncooperative wind and the insolent dragons who defiantly pursue, she tilts her sunset-streaked body and soars purposefully eastward, managing to keep just ahead of the bronze- and brown-colored cluster behind. Suddenly, she levels her body and catches a windpocket that projects her heavenward like a lost, fiery star--the dark masses of Ista's islands becoming mere shadows far below.

Marina frowns at T'saren's premature gesture. "Really now young'un", she scoffs, "A little presumptuous aren't you?"

Phediath> Rhonneth dips his wing after the fleeting body of Phediath and bugles in frustration at Nraith so close to him. He pulls his wingtip back up and opens his wing to catch a thermal which propels him forward and up after the glowing queen. His eyes whirl faster and faster with each wingbeat. She must be caught. She must be treasured. Such a jewel, such a beautiful creature.

Phediath> She gave me eyes, she gave me ears And humble cares, and delicate fears A heart, the fountain of sweet tears And love and thought and joy. Nraith powers himself forward, trying valiently to pass those around him, but he only notices those ahead. Those behind are less than a memory since Phediath's glimmer absorbs so much of his concentration. He folds his wings slightly, using the drop in altitude to gain speed, then arcing up again as she is vaulted into the heavens.

Removing his hands from his tunic, A'drin first rubs them together, and then folds his arms tightly over his chest. Fingers dig into the flesh on the upper parts of those arms, tightly enough to cause him to hiss quietly before relaxing. Looks are shot to the other riders, distainful at best, dark and brooding: summation, perhaps, of the competition that belies his otherwise near-perfect silence.

Phediath> Solarith soars up after the brilliant idol of his lust, straining to reach her as he sends a ringing bugle of his lust to let her know he is there for her when she decides to choose. The cool night air slides over his body, fueling his lust instead of diminishing it. He starts to stretch out after Phediath, beating his wings strongly to get closer to her form, but weary of being pursued from behind, he drops back slightly and rakes out with talons in an attempt to slash his sire and send the High Reaches brown out of the chase.

Carinah's ashen eyes roam the weyr until they fall upon Madelynda. A tight frown knits her brows and creases her forehead, and she allows her back to settle against the wall behind her, letting that support her as she watches on and waits.

Phediath> Zmeth swells with hope as the gold is swept closer to him then puts that energy into chasing again as she is pushed upwards and away again. This time he gauges carefully, following the example of another competitor, and puts his broad wings over a helpful thermal. Despite the thermal's help, he doesn't lessen his efforts. Every wingbeat could mean the difference between dismal defeat and moonstruck glory!

Phediath> Habrith courses out of the rear of the pack, seemingly flying away from the chase, until he flies up over the airspace above the rim of the bowl. The air propelled by the ocean breezes, gives the bronze more lift and brings him closer to the gold. Closer in height, further in distance, to Habrith it seems a fair exchange. After all the prize is worth the struggle, the risk.

L'tan reaches down and rubs at his leg, leaning to the weight off the injury. He mumbles curses to himself, under his breath before finally giving in and sliding down the wall to sit on the floor, "Oh, yes, it'll be all better, bloody bronze, bloody sharding steps, bloody sharding wherry-headed healers."

T'saren narrows his eyes, biting each word off as he responds to Marina's comment, "Solarith and I have as much chance as any other here, and you know it, brownrider. We'll find out who the best is." He waves a hand negligently in her directon, dismissing her as he turns his attention back to Madelynda.

Phediath> Kemith trumpets as the dragon above him arches and banks awkwardly after the gold. He uses this as his escape banking as his fellow did, and then straining to put extra fire into his wingbeats to strive ahead of the base of the pack. At least now his burning eyes can see Her. Far off as she may be him, he might have a chance to catch up now, without all those bodies and wings closing in on him.

Phediath> Nalimoth sets his sites by that shooting star -- second star to the right, and straight on 'til morning, perhaps -- and keeps all there, letting the vaugest ebbings of gold to bleed in to overlay the ianthine hues of his eyes. Through his veins course his need for her, tempered with the perfect joy of this dance with her on the Istan winds, made hot by blood stolen from things now dead in a now-forgotten corral, and cooled by the knowledge that he must pursue her with all that he is. For now, however, he contents himself with staying in the wake of the one who lies most directly in front of him, letting that other tear open the air and grant him passage through.

Madelynda almost growls to herself, eyes still unfocussed where she kneels in the center, arms crossed tightly and around her. L'tan's grumble distracts her, and she glares at the Weyrleader, hissing in spite of his rank, "It will -not- be better! It can only be worse, and worse!"

Phediath> Parth is like the land comming up to meet the sky and stars, unless its simply that the sky is falling. His darkly brown body soars higher and higher, wings thrusting out to their full extent as he continues the struggle of rising. A soft growl emerges for some of the other dragons, as one or the other of them happen to get too close in the process of flight. He uses his lean bulk to attempt to slip through them or pass them or manuver around them. Wind buffets around him, brushing across his body and fighting against him. However, he means to defeat the traitorous Ista air and sets about doing so with some of the fantastic, almost daredevil manuvers that he's made a name of himself with. He banks, then rolls slightly, wings barely catching him before he starts climbing again as he tries to outmanuver strange wind currents. Phediath is above, a golden, fiery light just waiting to be banked, perhaps even by the earthy tones of this brown.

Phediath> Channeth growls as Nalimoth is swept into *his* airspace. With a tight swing to the the right, Channeth darts to Nalimoth's side and then levels out to catch some of the turbulent winds that are giving Phediath trouble. Straining his wings to their fullest he lets the air help his upwards ascent and pulls above of Phediath. Again he bugles to her in an attempt to catch her attention for if she were to spare a glance she would notice the impressive slender figure and rippling silvery highlights which would blend so beautifully with her golden highlights were they to have little dragonets.

K'tel breaks off his concentration with Zmeth to shoot a dark look at T'saren and Marina. He frowns, quiet is what's needed here. His expression soothes, however, as his gaze once again returns to the weyrwoman.

Phediath> Ularrith screeches in outrage as Solarith tries to rake him. His son...His own son betrayed him. He spreads his wings wide, pushing them against the wind as he backpedals out of range. The passion leaves his whirling eyes as now he flies to keep his flesh in one piece. He misses one foot only to come in range of the other. Flinging himself to one side, he dives out of range but also out of the chase. Faltering wings try to resume their steady beat but it is too late. With a frustrated bellow, he starts to circle down into the bowl, ignoring the pack of males that rise higher and higher above him.

L'tan wraps his arms around his chest and gives Madelynda a slightly lop-sided smile, "Sounds like a sound way to approach life, if you ask me."

Phediath> Berizeth stretches his lean, lanky form, warm sorrel wings spread wide. Though Phediath leads a merry chase, the young brown is true to his color, launching himself up after the radiant queen with obdurate and assiduous intent -- a particle, striving, ever striving. His resolute diligence is rewarded as he edges closer towards the front of the pack, disseminating a smaller brown and a larger bronze as he slips audaciously in between them, ever closer to the defiant queen.

E'ryn simply says, in that reassuring fashion he's always taken with Madelynda. "It will be alright, Maddy." He stares at her with intense, absorbed eyes -- a person affected completely by the emotions of his dragon, but combined with the innate personality of the rider. "It won't be that bad." He tries to say convincingly.

A'drin's eyes slide closed, squeezing fiercly shut for perhaps half a dozen heartbeats, which sound in his ears like the pumping of dark wings, high above and yet quite near in his mind. Then, re-opening them, he casts another cautious look around the room, attention pausing briefly on Marina and developing into a perfect scowl.

Melina pays no attention to all the talking in the weyr. Her face is set in a deep frown that denotes how deep in concentration she is. Her eyes are still trained on Madelynda, body leaning towards her slightly.

A'lex watches the Goldrider carefully, but hisses through his teeth as the volume of talking increases.

Marina shrugs to T'saren, "We'll see soon enough." Absently she starts running her fingers along her neck and hooking a finger around her collar she pulls at it to relieve some of the heat - all the while her eyes are rippling over Madelynda's figure.

T'saren pulls his gaze away from the weyrwoman to smile innocently at M'rgan as images of the chase above come from his own lifemate. "Looks like Ularrith crossed Solarith one too many times, brownrider. Too bad." He shrugs a shoulder in mock-sympathy. "Better luck next time, M'rgan."

Phediath> The queenly pride of Phediath, sufficiently suppressed until now by the instinctive, ancient urgency to fly fast and far, rears its inevitable head--the molten gold wingsails lessen their furious beating, lengthening outward to feel the glory of flight. For a few, blissful heartbeats, Phediath hangs in the air, that action immediately cutting the distance between she and the leading suitors: without warning, she is but a half-dragonlength ahead.

Only turns of training, of being a rider, restrains M'rgan from lashing out at T'saren. A glare is directed to the young man before Ularrith's need for solace pulls him back. He kicks the pile of clothes and harness towards the bowl, scooping them up just before he steps outside.

Phediath> Ularrith glides lower into the bowl, his huge size dwarfed by the immensity of the bowl around him.

M'rgan walks off toward the bowl.

Phediath> Solarith finds himself in a bit of clear sky as his sire is now out of the race for the gleaming prize before him. He stretches his gold and ebon streaked bronze body after the truer antique-washed golden shimmer that is the form of Phediath, knowing she is the mistress of this flight, and he is but her follower, going where she leads in hopes he can make her his. A quiet grumble of desire sounds from his throat; she is the one he must have, to parner her, to be there for her when she makes her choice.

Phediath> She was a phantom of delight when first she gleamed upon Nraith's sight, a lovely apparition, sent to be a moment's ornament. Her eyes as stars of twilight shine, like twilights too her dusky hide, but all things else about her drawn from spring-time and the cheerful dawn. Again Nraith furls his wings and drops, gaining speed. But then the object of his desire slows, and shreiking with pleasure, he angles himself upward, aiming straight for her Golden beauty. Wings picking up the pace, for this treasure must be his...

Phediath> The smell of crushed periwinkle blue flowers, sweet with the first promising breath of spring, a hint of warm earth turned over by grubs, the light sound of a brook rushing across a melody of rocks on its way to the sea - none of these compare in glory to just once glimpse of Phediath. Habrith concerns himself only with getting close enough to absorb her beauty, catching her, comforting her, supporting her, these are things to be dreamed. He gains slowly, the turns of fighting thread having given him stamina which he now taps.

Carinah's breathing grows heavier as she watches those in the cavern, her gray eyes grown bright, and she begins to clench her hands, knuckles white. She shoves them into her pockets, the growing tension in the air palable.

Phediath> Totally startled by Phediath's action, the brown Rhonneth trumpets in suprise and backwings hard as not to overshoot the queen. His talons reach out to touch, hopefully to catch the queen and his wingbeasts quicken. He must catch her. He must try harder.

Phediath> Zmeth can't hold back a deep croon to Phediath as she seemingly drops in front. Such a slight distance! He can almost feel the glorious beauty and immediately puts every ounce of whatever energy he has left into pulling himself towards her. Moonlight sliding on and off his wings and body as every sinew stretches towards her.

Phediath> Nalimoth hisses at Channeth as he passes the other brown, tail lashing out behind him in dark serpentine violence and steering him further left still. But his thoughts do not linger long on that which is about him: he is entirely more interested in that which is to come, and that which lies ahead: that which is now slightly closer. She, who holds the sun's glory in her hide, touched by the stars and bathed by the moons... she is where his interests lie, this splendid wind-dancer who lingers ever just beyond his reach. But the night is young, and the rivals, it seems, are already dropping out of the game, and when she lingers to savour the air, he makes a move, thrusting himself forward in the air to try and gain rank in the pack.

Phediath> Parth senses the closeness of Phediath made all that much closer as she continues to lag in her flight. Eager energy surges through his body, making him work ever that much harder in his flight toward her. He rakes out at Solarith as he nears that bronze, having vaguely remembered that this dragon is strong competition. His claws do not touch though as he darts to the side at the last moment, not really wanting to tangle with Solarith. His wings pulse through the air like a fast and furious drum-beat, creating speed as dextrous body helps him through the press of bodies. He slowly lists to the right as he flies foward with full speed ahead while keeping on even with the gold, and even, if slightly, above. He's not as close as some dragons, but he's not very far behind either.

"One down," T'saren murmurs to himself as he watches M'rgan leave. He takes in another assesment of the other riders around him, wondering briefly if his lifemate could take all their dragons out and thus assure himself of victory. No, better not. Better to win by strength and skill than violence. He tugs at the ties of his jacket, loosening them as the heat of Ista's air and the chase begin to take their toll on him.

Channie rubs her hands over her arms, as if she's cold. But her face is shimmering with a fine coating of sweat, the fire-red coils of her hair sticking to her flushed face. She half opens her pale eyes and sweeps the room with her hungry gaze until she locates the goldrider. There, that's what she was looking for. That's what she needed all along.

Phediath> Channeth well overshoots Phediath's sudden position but he turns with the agility of a brown. He wheels around and climbs above her to wait for her next movement. Although his chest is heaving in exertion there is still some strength left and his wings haven't faltered yet. Again he croons longingly to her like a harper trying to woo his latest interest with some romantic words of everlasting love.

L'tan begins his mantra, perhaps finally triggered by the fact that his dragon has finally gotten close enough that he has a slight chance of winning, "Slow, slow, slow."

As Nraith shoots upward, so does A'lex, onto his knees, staring intently at Madelynda.

Phediath> Kemith roars at a younger brown who wings up and into his flight path. The youngster over corrects and angles down and away from Kemith and out of his furiously beating wings. Oh yes, she's just right there! HE angles up and sails over a bronze who tries to cut him off. Stretching for all he's worth he strives towards her with a more zealous effort.

Phediath> Berizeth has begun to flag, as have some of the larger, older dragons. But, his determination remains fixed and unalterable, and Phediath's sudden propinquity urges him to greater measures of temerity. Impertinent males attempt to come between him and the lumionous queen, but his only deference is for Phediath. Riding a wave of reserved energy, he crests forward towards the golden queen and through the welter of dragons forced to confusion by her heartbeat of hesitation.

Dragon> Phediath senses that Solarith sends a single thought image, laced with the violet of lust and passion - An ebon streaked bronze and gold twined together in obvious ecstacy above a night-black caldera below. << Us. >> That one word conveys all his barely restrained emotion and longing.

A'drin bites furiously on his lower lip, gaze moving to and locking on the goldrider, who he watches with double sight. Again his fingers claw into his arms, kneading the flesh there, now gripping and now relaxing, and each breath hisses out as forced labour. All else is forgotten, save Her.

Madelynda, motionless on the floor, darts another contemptuous glance at the chanting L'tan, then looks acidly at the other riders in the weyr. Slowly, her expression changes to utter fear--but it's only a flash, and as if in response to a memory, she firmly connects with her lifemate as a moment of sanity makes its way through. "...Climb high, my love...as high as you can...you must..."

E'ryn says nothing as he paitently waits the outcome. Well, he looks patient. However, his stiff body and clenched hands might be clear tells to his inner anxiety. His face twists with sympathy, even if he's not completely aware of the emotion as he continues to gaze at Madelynda. He murmurs subconciously. "I hope its someone nice."

Phediath> Her frustrated bellow is lost in the buffeting wind as Phediath cries out, belatedly realizing her fatal mistake. Trembling wing-muscles underneath the golden hide, exhausted long ago by her fierce ascent, fail as she attempts to surge away from the mate-hungry males. Her will--still strong and pulsing, unlike her faltering wings--is not enough to keep her free, and she is surrounded on all sides by sunset-swathed brown and bronze.

Carinah remains silent, her thoughts far away. The flush of her cheeks is in sharp contrast to the white line of her mouth, and small beads of sweat have begun to dot her brow, dampening the short, dark hair along her forehead. She does not bother to wipe it away, her hands remaining clenched deep within her pockets.

Marina gives up with the stupid collar and savagely unbuttons the first couple of buttons of her shirt. Now she absently flaps the edge of her shirt to get some air circulation but stops and clamps the stone wall next to her as Channeth makes his final surge towards Phediath.

T'saren shivers, though not from cold. No, it is the sound of Madelynda's voice urging her golden lifemate higher that brings on his trembling. He sucks in a deep breath, closing his eyes briefly to let his mind fill with thoughts of her against him. Oh, wonderous vision! He holds his body tight, sensing by some deep wash of dragonbond and memory that the flight draws to an end.

Phediath> Rhonneth rises up behind Phediath, keeping just above and behind her shimmering tail. He croons to her, reasurring her, praising her beauty, her sheer glow. His wings strain to make chase and his talons reach out, searching, groping for the fleeting star below him.

Phediath> Finally, the prize is in sight, Habrith's slow and steady approach to this flight has stood him well and has brought him within striking distance of Phediath. She's above him, as the stars, the moons, and the sun are and as they do she provides beauty, inspiration, a reason to live to the mortals such as he who bask in the glow of her light. She has only to fall slightly to be entwined with him.

Phediath> Solarith knows that Phediath is the one he must have, and he approaches rapidly from her left side and slightly above, snaking out his neck and tail, wanting to entwine his form with hers. He gives voice to his lustful need to her, telling her that he is here and he is not going to give up his relentless pursuit until she is his. The strength and experience of his four Turns is on his side, and he is determined to prove he is the perfect match for her enchanting beauty.

L'tan bunches up his hands into fists, "Slower, give up you bloody idiot bronze."

Phediath> Zmeth croons sweetly to soothe the frustration evident in the young queen's voice. He doesn't hesitate to take full advantage of her falter and sweeps forward to add his strength to hers. His wings and eyes bright, he stretches towards her, neck and tail aching to entwine with hers as he tries to foul her right wing with his, crooning his soft song all the while.

Phediath> Nraith drives himself forward towards Phediath who appears so fair to fond imagination, and dost rival in the light of day her delicate creation. He dives and turns and wings hims self on, forcing his body to stretch with every fibre of his will towards the beauty that is Phediath. With a strangled cry he lunges, reaching with forelimbs and tail, trying to ensnare the delicate package before him.

K'tel takes a deep breath and holds it, all attention on his dragon again. His fingers twitch and twine with eachother as he awaits the outcome, gazing at the beautiful Madelynda as Zmeth watches Phediath.

A'lex stands suddenly as Nraith lunges, taking a half step forward, shivering...

Phediath> Channeth watches all the browns and bronzes try to squeeze towards Phediath and realizes this is the moment he's been waiting for - his opportunity is clear. Descending down from his higher position he meets Phediath half way and croons to her in reassurance and a tinge of lust. Reaching out with his long silvery streaked neck, he tries to encircle the golden queen...

Phediath> Parth crows out an almost gleeful sound which rings through the air as Phediath makes her mistake. He sweeps in like a seething bird of prey after a small, lost little swallow. His wings thrust up and then sweep against his sides for an affect that turns him into something fleet and streamlined. He drops toward Phediath, claws outstretched -- a shovel full of earth flung at a dying ember. He means to foul her, capture her, meld his body with her own. And he'll do it too, if another dragon doesn't get their first. He fights forward against the other males. Will he be the first one there? Will he be the one that grabs at her body first and actually holds her? All of his energy, all of his being is put into this one, nearly impossible task. He focuses on her, everything else dulled out into insubstantiality.

Phediath> Nalimoth slides his way through the mess, a river of iridine darkness amongst so many lighter shades, granting only enough awareness to his near surroundings to avoid any aerial collisions. Still left, and still behind, but now close to soak up the illumination emptying itself visably from her, to bathe in the flames that are Phaediath, flames that can only be quenched by eclipsing her glory in the near-blackness that is his wings, spread to ensnare her. The dance is near complete, and his play to make the finale as perfect as possible is given. Wings reach, limbs extend, his heart and soul go out to Her.

Phediath> Kemith snarls at a brown that faulters and nearly upsets his wings, but corrects and angles closer. He doesn't even notice all the other males clustering around now as he draws so much closer to the heated glow of Phediath's hide. Head tilted up towards her, eyes burning with longing for her, consumed with need. Arching with every muscle he reaches for her with wings hoping to foul hers and tail lashing for hers to entwine.

Phediath> Berizeth surges upwards, rising above the tide of males, each forerunner gathering way with the last of their reserves. Their backs and beating wings are imbued with the last, warm rays of Rukbat, but the young brown's questing eyes are focused on Phediath and Phediath only. Should she rise further, his strong sorrel wings will be there waiting, and he stretches his long, lean neck forward, every muscle growing taunt as he reaches for the scintillating gold, striving for that ineluctable conclusion.

Phediath> Phediath struggles among the myriad wings to break away: she escapes the seeking body of Nraith by dipping one wing and dropping barely out of reach...Zmeth manages to foul the shadowy-gold of her right wingtip, but doesn't disturb her equilibrium enough to fully catch her...and by sheer luck, the queen curves her neck away from Berizeth a heartbeat before he can encircle it with his. But that blissful curve, that beautiful neck-movement, proves fateful as she turns her violet-swirling gaze on Parth, whose smoky-brown muzzle wraps itself around her--and entwined with him, she prepares to spiral powerlessly, rapturously, ecstatically downward.

Phediath> Solarith creels his distress as what should have been his is claimed instead by brown Parth. He banks sharply to avoid collision with the new pair and spirals down to the bowl, his defeat and tiredness showing in ponderous wingbeats.

A'lex exhales sharply as he breaks from Nraith's hold.

L'tan struggles to his feet and says, with felling, "YES!!!!"

Phediath> Zmeth sweeps into a quick bank to the left, silent in his disappointment. He wings his way back towards the weyr.

L'tan limps out of the weyr, a grin painted widely across his face.

L'tan walks off toward the bowl.

Phediath> Berizeth lets loose a single roar, voicing his frustration and banks away from the falling pair, dropping quickly through the air.

Phediath> Nraith shrieks with frustration as his own Sire beats him to his prize. The spell broken, he backwings, drops and heads back towards the Weyr...

Phediath> Solarith glides lower into the bowl, his huge size dwarfed by the immensity of the bowl around him.

K'tel lets out his held breath softly and gets to his feet, hand grabbing his jacket on the way up. He walks quietly out of the weyr.

Phediath> Crushed, exhausted, almost gray, Habrith wings down into the bowl.

Phediath> Habrith glides lower into the bowl, his huge size dwarfed by the immensity of the bowl around him.

A'drin just -stares- for a minute, then shudders and turns to run for the bowl.

A'drin walks off toward the bowl.

Phediath> Parth wraps his claws around Phediath's body, his own wings stretching out to help support them both as he melds his body with that of his mate's. He is fairly intense and eager about this, his passion and lust culminating in this final, furious and savage bonding.

Phediath> Zmeth glides lower into the bowl, his huge size dwarfed by the immensity of the bowl around him.

Phediath> Kemith carefully arcs away from what could be a messy tangle of brown and bronze and glides earthward.

Carinah's eyes snap back into focus, and she exhales sharply, as if she may have been holding her breath. Without hesitation, she ducks quickly from the weyr.

Phediath> Rhonneth bugles in frustration that echoes Nraith's. He flies downward, defeated.

Phediath> Rhonneth glides lower into the bowl, his huge size dwarfed by the immensity of the bowl around him.

Carinah walks off toward the bowl.

Phediath> Berizeth glides lower into the bowl, his huge size dwarfed by the immensity of the bowl around him.

Phediath> Nalimoth trumpets his dismay to the winds, then furls his wings and decends.

K'tel walks off toward the bowl.

Phediath> Nalimoth glides lower into the bowl, his huge size dwarfed by the immensity of the bowl around him.

Channie walks off toward the bowl.

A'lex shudders once and spins, heading out of the weyr.

Melina's eyes grow wide, "Rhonneth!" She gets up and hurries outside.

Phediath> Kemith glides lower into the bowl, his huge size dwarfed by the immensity of the bowl around him.

Melina walks off toward the bowl.

A'lex walks off toward the bowl.

T'saren winces as Parth again beats his own lifemate for the victor's prize. He shakes his head and turns on his heel, walking out quickly to comfort his lifemate.

T'saren walks off toward the bowl.

Phediath> Channeth watches Phediath swerve away at the last minute and doesn't even see the result until he's already spiraling down towards the bowl. He knew his chance had slipped away and with that his strength went.

Marina's jaw drops and she starts as if she'd just been slapped - and in a sense she just was. Hugging her collar around her neck since she suddenly feels cold, she heads outside.

Dragon> Habrith bespoke Ista dragons with << Golds fly higher than greens but they are easier to catch. Greens wiggle. >>

Dragon> Ista dragons sense that Neith, emerging into Ista's air again, remarks cattishly, << That's a surprise. >>

Marina walks off toward the bowl.

Phediath> Channeth glides lower into the bowl, his huge size dwarfed by the immensity of the bowl around him.

Dragon> Ista dragons sense that Siaroth says sweetly << Golds can't wiggle. If they did, their rumps would cause earthshakes. >>

E'ryn takes only moments to stalk across to Madelynda in order to make her his as others fade away into the background and leave.

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