Green Flown, Punch Thrown

Borrowed from Fort Weyr Wiki

Fort Weyr - Feeding Grounds
Milling herdbeasts dot this lightly grassy section of the southern end of the bowl. Fences keep them neatly secured on all sides, even extending into the lake, allowing the beasts ample drinking water without granting them an escape. Dragons young and old come here to hunt on a fairly regular basis, though not all come at once of course. From here you can easily make out the entirety of the Weyr's lake as it spreads out south and southwest to the tumbled rubble of the far shore, while the rest of the bowl lies beyond the fences to the southeast, east and northeast.

It's a crisp afternoon across Fort Weyr today with a typical chill to the air. The low lying, heavy clouds promise a rain storm that will surely last well into the night. For now all is dry. The morning found the Weyrlings occupied with many actives that continue well into the afternoon. However it seems that one certain Green Weyrling may have other things on her mind. In the midst of the activities within the Center bowl with the weyrlings she lifts up suddenly with very little warning. A call of challenge to all males is easy to figure out though exactly why. Anique though is caught completely off guard for she was assured that Typriaeth wouldn't yet rise for at least another seven day. With a cry of dismay and confusion the former assistant headwoman drops the bag of firestone she was working with an bolts towards the feeding grounds. "NOW?!" she is heard calling.

A sweet voice is heard cajoling to all the males around. « Let us play a game! WHo shall wish to try to catch me this fine day? »

At the challenging cry from the green, Rhyrith head snaps up immediately, the large brown leaping up from where he worked helping clean up the bowl to glide rapidly into the feeding grounds «Sounds like a lovely game to me.» As the dragon soars up K'drozen drop stabs the shovel he was using into the ground and curses under his breath, "Why Rhy….." turning to move in the direction of the feeding grounds as well, much more reluctantly then his life mate. His eyes traveling from the dragons to the riders present, ending this his eyes locking over onto Anique.

It is on mornings like this that Velokraeth enjoys lounging on the higher and unoccupied ledges to survey the Weyr below. He was up by the Star Stones earlier but had ventured more into the heart of the Weyr on a whim and fancy. At least, that is what he'd say if asked. Truthfully, he's been keeping a close eye on a certain vibrant green since a day or so prior. Surprised though Anique may be by Typriaeth's readiness for flight, Velokraeth is not. Neither is his rider, Th'ero, who now knows his lifemate well enough to recognize the signs. Thankfully, the Weyrleader isn't in a meeting or caught in some other thing he'd have to awkwardly excuse himself from. Velokraeth calls back, his rich voice rippling with amusement as he flares his wings and pushes off from his ledge to soar towards the feeding grounds. « A game is it? I do enjoy a good game and today is certainly a wonderful time for it. I'll answer your call of challenge, dear Typriaeth! »

A certain Eastern bronzer may have been a bit absent thanks to Eastern's influx of candidates and the associated craziness, but there's one thing he couldn't pass up. Rielth's flight sense tingled and M'ta dropped what he was doing to fly to Fort /now/. So quickly he rides without straps. As soon as his autumn-toned bronze has landed, he's off, emerald eyes scanning for and finding Anique, "Ani!" Rielth gives a musical croon to rider and green, an easy 'hi', his voice reaches to Typriaeth, all chill wind, guitar, and booze, « I don't play, I win. »

Niumdreoth can be found within the feeding ground already, a fresh kill grasped between his front paws as the large brown was just about to work on his meal. That sweet voice catches his attention and his swirling gaze drifts over the area until catching sight of others heading into the area, seems his a step ahead of the game! A deep rumble escaping him, greeting Typriaeth once catching sight of the green hide. « Oh games can indeed be fun to have I do look forward to this dear one. » His mindvoice a rich scene of a wintery forest, slight blue and pink lights flash across the ground. Abigail wasn't expect such things to happen, though the news was on the wind, and while her dragon was already in mid hunt the Wingsecond was making her way out towards the feeding grounds to join him. There is a slight pause as she catches sight of dragons flying overhead, and a slight sigh escapes her once her dragon is giving her an update. "Of course…" Is grumbled out as she continues on her way.

Typriaeth's mind voice is jumbled of emotions as instinctively she and Anique seek out each other's minds. Reeling a bit from the touch, Anique reaches the grounds and just stops. "Blood…" she whispers. As both riders and male dragons converge on the feeding grounds Anique looks around wildly a moment then dismisses them as she once more locks wills with the green. "Just…blood." she hisses under her breath.
A deviant screech is heard from Typriaeth as she suddenly lunges towards a kill. Taking it down cleanly she lowers her head and succumbs to the orders and drinks deeply from the life-force that rushes out. Her mind though reaches out to touch each male who comes to join her in her 'game'. Lightly she brushes a wide open mind to theirs, a vast cavern of thoughts and sounds that echo wildly around. « A challenge indeed! Who shall be worthy to catch one so quick as me and Anique? » for they are one together in this.

K'drozen bites his lip as he comes up to the edge of the feeding ground, muttering and cursing softly under his breath. His eyes looking out to his brown then over to Anique. The brown rider mumbles a bit louder, "Blood Rhy." he grits his teeth as he steps a bite closer to Anique
The skeleton form of Rhyrith soars quickly over the feeding pen dropping suddenly down on top of a large heard beast, sinking his massive fore claws into its sides. Drinking deeply of its warm blood as the life rapidly flows out of the beast, «All should vie for the honor in such a game»

Mur'dah and Kalsuoth are here from Xanadu making a delivery. And surely the dirty looks he got from the passing Roc greenriders were a coincidence, right, as he made that delivery and got a signature and tucked his paperwork into his satchel. Right. Then, Kalsuoth headed to the feeding grounds and with a heavy exhale and under his breath curse, Mur'dah jogged after. So now he's here, the young Xanadu teenager approaching the group slowly, eyes wary. He's in a foreign land, here. Kalsuoth though doesn't seem to care as he glides down and lands upon a beast, splattering his straps with blood. (Wince, goes Mur'dah.) « Me! » chimes in the brown's eager 'Wow I found a flight this is awesome!' voice, before he settles back into the forested regions of his mind. Hi.

M'ta's mind is already blurring with Rielth's as he falls in around Anique and snarls, "I am!" which is echoed by Rielth's bugle of challenge to the green before he clambers into the feeding pens and downs a herdbeast with lithe, graceful ease. He may be long, but he's not bulky, so he he has an odd flexibility to him. And he's a neat eater, draining the carcass beneath him and tossing it neatly to the side.

Velokraeth does not tarry or linger once he's soaring above the feeding grounds and once Typriaeth has made her first kill. Then he swoops down on the frantic and stampeding beasts and snares himself one with his sharp talons and another with a powerful strike of his tail as it lashes out behind him. Latching on to his kill, he drags it back towards the second as he begins to blood greedily, wings always held loose at his side and ready as his whirling eyes focus on Typriaeth but his competition as well. Niumdreoth and Rhyrith he knows, but Rielth is foreign to him but he observes all three as closely as he can when his mind isn't drawn to the vibrant form of Typriaeth. « Why, I'd never dare boast to say it is I who am worthy, bright lady! But I will certainly try and gain the honour of your favour. »

Th'ero strides briskly into the feeding grounds, dressed in a thick jacket against the autumn chill. His expression is grim set, brows knitted into a near scowl and he does not look entirely thrilled to be pulled into yet another flight. Yet he knows better than to try and stop things now that Velokraeth is so keen on it. Now he has no choice but to simply join the others, his eyes lingering on Anique the longest before they roam over the other male riders. K'drozen and Abigail are given stiff nods, M'ta a quirk of a brow and the same nod and lastly Mur'dah too. Formalities… are skipped.

Niumdreoth shifts, his swirling gaze taking in the others that have joined in for the 'game' and it quick to blood the kill that he has already taken down. The large brown shifts, wings fluttering at his sides a few moments. His thoughts are calm ones; the image of a snowy forest stretches out, the snow itself clinging to the trees that seem to go on for miles. « There are a few here who will certainly show that we be worthy to catch such a prize as you quick Typriaeth. » Abigail is quiet as she continues on her trek towards where the others are near the fence, a curious glance is sent towards the dragons within the pen before she looks to Anique, a faint smile caught before she is nodding to her, and then towards the ones that have 'joined' in for the games it seems. When it comes to flights she's not that talkative, unless someone specifically speaks to her she will allow her dragon to do all the 'talking' for now. Catching the nod from Th'ero she offeres a slight nod back while leaning against the fence, her gaze lingering on Niumdreoth. Thoughts roll in her mind, a flight that really wasn't all that long ago creeping back into her memories.

The sky somehow seems bigger as Cikitsakath wings in from above, his lithe form cutting through the air like an arrow and landing him smartly on the back of a young buck. It makes an audible crack and seconds later his elongated muzzle is at its throat, guzzling the hot fluids from its body. Eyes whirl a rapid red/purple, tail lashing in anticipation as his wings hang half open, ready to leap skyward at a moments notice. Yhri comes running in from the bowl, looking harried and tired. "Seriously. Now? Her? After all I'm going through?" The newly minted Wingleader is clearly unhappy with her dragon's timing, but seems powerless to dissuade him at present. His melodic tenor glides into the green's thoughts, colored a deep blue and bright bronze, with the faintest sound of a whirring/scraping noise behind it: « My dear, with your sense of adventure and youth we could travel the skies forever and never look back… »

There's little pause as soon the first animal, a much too small ovine, so Typriaeth snarls unhappily and does a small leap and jump upon another larger animal. This time it's a herdbeast that looses it's life with his back being cracked. Again there is a battle of wills that Anique wins and Typriaeth's muzzle sinks low into the flesh to blood and only to blood. Quickly the force of the blood soars through, heating her own blood even more so than it is. With just the two kills she settles back on her haunches to give the males who have answered her call a long stare down. With a bugle of defiance she leaps up. « None shall have my speed and skills. » she beckons them though…taunting and calling.

On the ground Anique is locked into the mind, soaring upwards as the lithe green leaps into the cloud covered skies. Unlike the 'proddy' figure she was several days ago today she is dressed in grubby, old clothing that bears the dust of firestone. Clenching her hand around her arm she cranes her neck to see the green cutting through the air as well as feeling as if she's up there as well. For now she pays little attention to the riders closing in on her and indeed she's hardly noticed that M'ta from Eastern is here or Mur'dah, an unknown brown rider from Xanadu. OF course she would be mortified to know that Th'ero is counted among the numbers as well.

Rhyrith tosses aside his pry as Typriaeth sent out her next taunt and leaps into the air, bugling loudly the skeleton brown, launches himself quickly into the air, «Lead the way it shall be a marry chase» his large wind driving him rapidly upwards, his eyes locking only on the green before him.
K'rozen take a deep breath and says softly, 'Come on Rhy you can do it, just watch her, learn her game" his eyes going unfocused as he watches the dragons begin to rise into the air.

Kalsuoth drains his first beast and quickly hops onto another one, moving with an awkward, loping gait. Still, he's successful in his second kill and he drains it of blood as well before sitting back on his haunches. The dark brown waits, wings stretched and flexing, stretching even though he's already nice and warm and limber from being in the middle of his duties. Oh yeah, duties. Those can wait, right? Not like they're on a /schedule/. Then the green is up and the dark brown surges up after her with a speed more befitting a blue than a brown, wings audible through the air as he pushes forward in the unfamiliar currents, relying on his swiftness and his strength of endurance to win him a Fortian lady.

Mur'dah snaps off a salute to Th'ero, not yet so far gone as to skip those formalities so well drilled into him. "Xanadu's duties, sir," he murmurs, hands deep in his pockets as he studies the other chasers for a moment. This his eyes focus on Anique and brows lift. "She's hot," he murmurs under his breath. Then he coughs, blushes, and shifts his hands in his pockets rather obviously.

Rielth doesn't even bother to blood a second animal. His eyes whirl ever-faster as they're locked on Typriaeth and as soon as the green rises, he follows. Light glints off his odd patterning of yellow, orange, and red, powerful leaf-patterned wings driving him upward behind the glowing green His croon is as melodious as always, meeting her challenge with his gentle charm. Again, his booze and breeze mind reaches out to her, a soft growl in his voice as he sends out « Perhaps not. But let me show you /my/ skills. »

M'ta's mind is locked with Rielth's. His only thought, his every action going towards claiming the woman he l- The fine lady for whom he has some feelings that he hasn't been able to show in quite some time. The other candidates are /nothing/ for she is HIS. Mur'dah's words just barely filter into his mind. Just enough for him to turn and snarl at the Xanadian brownrider.

Velokraeth tosses aside his first kill once it's been drained and buries his blunted muzzle into the next, drinking fast of the hot, vital fluid he will need to fuel his courting chase. It too is discarded and a third beast felled by the time Typriaeth rears back onto her haunches. With his teeth still sunk into his kill, the pale bronze unfurls his wings to stretch them to their full length. Lifting his oversized and misshapen head, the herd beast is forgotten on the ground as his tongue flicks out to scent the air and also clean some of the blood off his muzzle. He answers with a sweet, honeyed croon to Typriaeth's call of defiance. « We shall see, bright lady! » And then he is off with the rest, launching skyward with a powerful leap and his wings sweeping through the cold autumn air.

Th'ero is indeed there but he lingers a bit behind the main group of riders, standing tensely with his arms held close at his sides and his hands curling and uncurling. His dark eyes have turned to follow the exodus of the dragons after Typriaeth's rising form and with a gruff sigh, he smirks. Yet he too is feeling the pull of the flight and of Velokraeth on his mind and though he fights it, gradually more and more of him will go to the bronze as he soars after the green. But not enough yet to not cobble some reply to Mur'dah. "Fort's duties to Xanadu and her queens. You're far from home." If he had been more in his senses, he'd probably (really awkwardly for the timing!) ask after his sister. "Mhm?" Who's hot? His gaze flickers to Anique then and there is a low, gruff chuckle from Th'ero. "Good luck, lad." To M'ta's snarl, the Weyrleader only glares even if not meant for him.

Niumdreoth shifts, another beast is grabbed as he moves forward, pouncing onto it rather eagerly and crushing it to the ground under his bulk before the animal is bloodied and quickly. His been through flights before, greens tend to be quick paced but that is never a given. Other males show up, but he doesn't give them much of a look over, his gaze is fully on the prize which is Typriaeth at the moment. Soft rumbles, croons and bugles escape the large brown while his form shifts, tail lashing, and once she takes for the skies he follows with a deep rumble escaping him. His large wings snap open, and he is in the air with a swift ease. « Perhaps not your speed dear one, but I gather we shall at least try to catch your with are skill, and win you over with are charm. »

Abigail is quiet as she catches bit of conversation from the others around her, a curious glance is sent towards new voices to see who all has joined in when she wasn't paying attention.

It isn't a moment after Typriaeth leaves the ground that Cikitsakath finishes blooding the beast's corpse and discards it like a rag doll, legs jutting out in odd directions as the last vestiges of its life drain out onto the Weyr's ground. Haunches clench and wings snap open, the brown taking to the air like a rocket after his chosen companion. Altitude is achieved at a dizzying rate before the lord of time and space levels out and soars after the bright green, glowing like the mountains capped with snow during the sunrise. His mind reaches out for hers, endless and far bigger on the inside than out. « Your song is just beginning, but together we could make the eye of harmony our melody as we discover the stars together. »

The world around Yhri is growing dimmer, dimmer now. There is enough of her left to recognize the Weyrleader and give him a salute, a deeply ingrained habit that serves her well now. Her hazel eyes are glassed over, seeing through the mind of her lifemate now. Her breath comes in deep pulls and exhales, mimicking her dragon's breath as he takes in oxygen for his heart, beating so quickly now, as the Wingleader's heart thuds. They are of two hearts but one mind now, the joining of his passionate soul to hers lifting her among the stars even as he becomes Typriaeth to become his companion as well. And now the Journeyman can see the green in all her blazing glory and knows why there could be no other answer than to pursue her.

It's a quick path upwards that Typriaeth takes, spiraling and nearly dancing upon the thermals as she takes her pursers higher and higher until they are above the clouds that threaten rain. Here no there is no suggestion of the rain to fall upon the weyr later. Here it is just the vibrant green who beckons and taunts her chasers. She knows that one will eventually come close enough to entice her but it will her on her terms! Though she's reached her full length she's just barely over 20 meters in total and that means she is lithe and fast! With aerobatic maneuvers that rivals the Golden queens she comes from she soars fast with twists and turns. Often will she zig to the left only to barrel role mere second later to dive back to the right. She's finally free and enjoying every moment of it! For now her words of taunting fall silent as she simply lets her actions speak louder than words.

Shifting her weight from foot to foot, Anique is holding her breath but her expression is of utter fascination. Such freedom..such flight! Even flying upon Typriaeth's back seemed to feel nothing like this as she and the green spin and soar into the clouds and above. But…there are words. Talking. Struggling to lower her gaze she looks around her wildly at the different riders. Some she can recognize and as M'ta is now seen she blinks then looks relieved at his form. "M'ta…." she murmurs his name but seems locked in place. She can't move. Not yet.

Arches up though the air, Rhyrith soars quickly behind him his eyes on her all the time watching her, studying her, trying to learn her secrets, trying to figure the trick nessary to win this game. Winging over as she barrel rolls the larger dragon does his best to stay with her to not lose any ground, all other chasers ignored, only having eyes for the lovely one above.

K'drozen shivers slightly as he stand, shifting his stance slowly closer and closer to Anique, not approaching to close yet though it is much to early to near that close.

Kalsuoth is urged on by the green's wiles and nimble turns, and his rider's sudden dislike for another chaser down below. His mind reaches out towards Typriaeth, but he is polite, gentle with his brushing like a feather against bare skin. Ticklish, darting, intriguing. His thoughts are the musty scent of damp earth and things growing, flowers in bloom and ancient trees holding mystery within their branches - within his dark wings. And while she flies he hangs back, watching. Admiring. The support to her dance, the strong male lead she needs to truly soar. He is in the midst of the pack for now, not trying to mimic her every move. Knowing he can't. And not wanting to show off either. This is /her/ show and he is just a supporting player right now, though hopefully she will choose him to be her co-star (but her name still gets top billing of course!)

Mur'dah turns just in time to see M'ta's snarl, and he grins. Toothily. Lust taking hold as he links tightly with his midnight brown's mind, the young brownrider shifts his stance, predatory. "What?" he taunts the older man. "You got something to say, old man?" Because 34 is SO OLD. Dark eyes flick to Th'ero and he just nods. Yeah. I have stuff to say but there's this guy all up in my business and my dragon wants that green, so yeah. Just a nod. Then his eyes settle on Anique again, lustful and desiring, though he's holding himself back. For now. He is a gentleman after all and isn't going to start humping a fence post.

Rielth follows Typriaeth, not through every manouver as that would tire the bronze far too quickly, even small as he is for a bronze, he's not small enough to keep up his energy doing /that/ too long. But the autumnal bronze /does/ push through a few of the lighter manouvers like a champ, his crooning picking up speed and tempo in its melodic attempt to tempt her to his elven ar- er, wings.

M'ta's eyes settle on Anique, barely focusing, "Ani." His arm rises, reaching for her but rooted where he is. Until Mur'dah's words break through the haze, and the tall, androgynous bronzer with the swishy red hair and the dubious demeanor turns, cocking back one hand, and lets fly at Mur'dah while above? Above Rielth does no such thing. He's a gentleman.

Velokraeth is much too bulky and boxy for such fine aerial dancing. Even as a stunted bronze, he leaves the flashier maneuvers to those capable of them or foolish enough (in his opinion) to expend such precious energy. That's not to say that he does not admire Typriaeth for her efforts because he certainly does. Neither is he shy in telling the bright, bright green this. His words will flow, intoxicating and sweet like the clear, crystal taste of wine that mellows and warms as he compliments, flatters and just all out praises the young green for each daring twist and turn, dive and roll she makes. He does it for sincerity and he does it on purpose. All the while he tracks her, finding his own path in the thermals where he flies and glides when he can. Waiting, biding his time and ever mindful of the other males around him when his mind is not so focused on Typriaeth.

Th'ero is caught up in the flight and while some gaze skywards, his eyes are only watching Anique though from their unfocused look it's clear it's not him and more his lifemate's influence. Movement however does catch his attention and his scattered thoughts reform long enough to see M'ta raising his hand back… He hadn't heard Mur'dah's exchange of words but it's the behaviour from the Eastern bronzerider that sparks the Fortian Weyrleader to action. Flight or no flight, there's just some things he does not allow on his territory! "Enough!" he bellows in a voice that is not yelled but simply is said with force and authority as he attempts to put himself between M'ta and Mur'dah before the blow can strike. Regardless if successful or not, Th'ero is pulling rank, even if the flight is making his head so murky and it takes every inch of his strength to keep focused. Gritting his teeth, he growls at both riders. "Control yourselves!"

Niumdreoth follows, up and up, rumbling and crooning out all the while as he goes. The brown may seem big and bulky but he is quick and nimble wings stretching out while he continues after the chase of that beautiful green glittering hide that is teasing and taunting him so. « Dear one We could have such fun if you would only allow me the chance to catch your lovely hide. Oh the things I could show you, the adventures we could possibly have. » His mind voice is soft yet carries with it firmness, an eagerness to be here on the chase after the very beautiful Typriaeth. His forest within his mind has lightened some, there is a faint bit of sun caught on the horizon, snow seen falling lazily which make it catch and cling to the thick tree branches. Pale blues, greens and pinks are seen slowly floating across the star lit sky. He keeps as close as he possibly can, pushing and shoving other's that would do the same to him, but he will not lash out until it is done to him. He waits, watching and when there is an opening he will be taking it to reach the prize at the end.

Abigail takes in a breath and looks back towards Mur'dah as she catches what is said. A slight grumble escapes her and she shifts, the Wingsecond moving the few steps towards the younger brownrider and eyes him a few moments. "He might not, but best believe if'nn ye start something I will be finishing it." She has the luck of keeping her head with her, at least in the few moments that she is talking to Mur'dah Hopefully nothing will happen, a glance is sent towards Th'ero as she takes in a faint breath and shifts back a touch she won't get in the way not that the Weyrleader is going about trying to get them under control.

Higher! Higher! Reaching for the stars Cikitsakath climbs through the thick layer of clouds, the journey leaving his skin glistening with a thousand dew drops that sparkle in the light of Rukbat falls upon the multi-colored hides that rise above the dreary earth and seek the bright sight of the Venusian companion, consuming the currents and thermals like she owns the elements. The brown croons to the Silurian creature, beckoning her with his song. Mind fills hers with visions of all that could be, flying past in an instant and replaced by the painted wood and porous coral feel of his mind, echoing in bright timbre. « The whole of time and space, Typriaeth. It could be ours. I can feel Pern turning beneath us, hurtling around Rukbat faster than you can imagine. » Fog swirls and flashes to an image of the blue-green marble moving around its star. For all his size the brown is as agile as some blues, moving steadily closer to his chosen, flying just a few meters above her. « You deserve the adventure of a lifetime. »

Petite — and short — Yhri does somehow manage to keep her distance from the greenrider all though her own hormones have kicked into high gear in response to her brown's mental and physical quickening. Earthbound beneath the darkened sky, her mind is lost above the clouds in a weird dichotomy of body and spirit. Hazel eyes settle on Anique but that vision is overlaid with her lifemate's vision of the radiant damsel above the clouds. It makes the brownrider take a step towards her without realizing it, but she catches herself, raining in enough control to keep from moving closer to the rider, at least not until the flights outcome is determined. She swallows, closing her unfocused eyes to turn her attention inward and upward instead. She's not ignoring what's happening around her, per se, but dealing with her dragon's mind is simply overwhelming at present.

Time moves on either slowly or quickly as Typriaeth bugles out her continued challenge to those who still race the skies with her. It's perhaps a foolish move to waste energy but then she is quite young and overconfident that she can end this herself at any time! Catching a thermal she rises higher still before turning neatly on wingtip to dive down a ways. It's a taunting move as she changes direction suddenly to race towards them before pulling up high and back around again. Taunting… « Can't get close to me can you? My speed will always beat you! » flashes of colors streak around her mind voice as she calls out to each one, a distant echoey feel of her words as if they were being pulled from so far away. Still racing onwards she can feel the weariness building…growing. Perhaps she should choose soon? Each male mind is touched, lightly. Dipping down she continues her path forward but her speed isn't there as it once was in the start of this. Clearly this flight will be drawing to a conclusion soon. Who shall be willing to make the final move to snag the aerobatic and flirty young green!?

It is the single bellowed word from the Weyrleader that briefly snaps Anique completely free from the haze that has engulfed her up to this point. Flight. Riders. Right. What did she learn from the flight talk from the very one who is trying to intervene between two riders…? She can't remember! "No..M'ta!" one hand reaches out with hand splayed as if to ward off the raised fist from the bronze rider towards the unknown brown rider. A whimper of sound escapes her as she stumbles back several steps. "Don't…" she murmurs one more word before she's pulled back completely with Typriaeth once more.

Arching up though the sky as Typiaeth bugles and suddenly dives towards her chasers, sends Rhyrith into a spin, the large skelotal dragon rolling over to extend his claws forth, reaching tou trying to draw her in as she appears to get to close to him, «You are fast, but all games must come to an end.» K'drozen shakes his head completely lost now in his mates actions above. Licking his lips, his arms slowly come up reaching in Aniques dirrection, mirroring his browns action above.

Kalsuoth's thoughts brush back against the flirty green's, a tickle of dark wings and the scents of the forest, the ancient wood, mysteries and soothing glades to rest in. And the thrill of the chase, the hunt, as creatures dart between those massive trees, predators pounding after them, paws sending up soundless clouds of dust in their eerie wake. All that flickers through their link when she touches his mind while he flies, and he finally breaks free of the pack to surge forward when she dips down. With a sudden swerve, he abandons his watching and waiting position, and lunges forward after her. Like a runner moving from a leisurely walk to a full on gallop, he pushes himself forward, wings throttling the air into submission, as he does not have the aid of thermals. He does not know these skies, but he knows his instincts and he can /fly/. When she dips down he drops, folding his wings to sink through the skies before unfurling his wings once more and surging forward, seeking to sneak up beneath her, turn, and coax her into his waiting embrace. « Beauty, » is the only word he utters, softly whispered.

Mur'dah leans back, but Kalsuoth's sudden veering makes him unsteady on his feet and M'ta's hand connects with his jaw. "Sh-" he swears, staggering back and then giving Abigail a rather hurt look in his moment of pained clarity. "What? He started it!" Then Th'ero is there and the brownrider is taking a step back, nodding briskly. "Yes, sir, sorry, sir." But he started it. Rubbing his jaw, he looks down and his focus shifts, abandoning his body to link with his dragon high above.

M'ta's mind never left the skies above, so tight is the hold Rielth has on him. Rielth doesn't balk, he simply drives ever forward, certain, deep down to the pit of his second stomach, that he is going to win. He doesn't dive after her, staying high and extending his legs and, when her rider is momentarily drawn to the ground, he strikes, diving to try to snag her out of the sky.

M'ta doesn't respond to Th'ero's words. But he does pull his hand back with a wince after the way it connects, giving it a subconscious shake before Anique's words pierce the fog just enough to draw his attention back to her. He doesn't lunge, but with his dragon advancing above, he takes a step towards her as well. HIS.

Velokraeth does not voice an answer to Typriaeth's bugle of challenge this time, focusing even his breath on his flight. She is taunting them, toying with them and the pale bronze only feeds her with further sweetened words and compliments on her skill and beauty, among so many other things. Flatterer through and through but some sincerity has woven itself in there too. « Your skill is certainly unrivalled, bright lady! You have certainly enraptured me with your keen understanding of the subtleties of flight. Your dance is alluring and unlike any I've known! » Never say never, though! Velokraeth's mind ripples with amusement and once Typriaeth begins to tire, the pale bronze makes his move. She drops down and he surges forwards, wings sweeping as they strain under the relentless pace he sets himself. All that nurtured strength is poured into each stroke, fast burning but he only needs that one burst, that one headlong charge! Relief comes shortly as he too lowers, only to arch up in an attempt to snatch the green away firm and tight in his talons and embrace on his upward climb. Risky and a bit daring, but Velokraeth figures she's flaunted enough of her skill and now it's time for him to flaunt his with a bit of flare.

Th'ero backs down as M'ta and Mur'dah step back, though his gaze lingers in a narrowed glare on the Eastern bronzerider. He's loosing his focus rapidly and his eyes shift to the Xanadu brownrider, concern but a faint glimmer as stronger emotions are taking root and hold. "Alright?" he grunts, the only word he's capable of speaking coherently but it's enough. The hiss that follows has nothing to do with the brief confrontation, but of Velokraeth's move on Typriaeth above and Th'ero braces, jaw set and determination now clear on his features. Eyes fall back to Anique and she is pinned under his stare, his weight shifting and a small step taken…

Niumdreoth watches as males zip one way and then another, though his gaze snaps back towards Typriaeth's form. He shifts, wings pulling closer towards him as he answers her bugle with one of his own, it is a deep sound almost like a roar, or howl from some wild animal. His swirling gaze settles upon the bright glittering green hind, his front legs stretch out moving to try and grab, pull, and if needed steal the glowing green away from one of the other males should he get close enough. His forest darkness once more, light caught in flashes of reds and greens that streak across the night sky.

Abigail looks back to Mur'dah, there is a slight nod seen and she takes in a breath. "It's alright." Is murmured out to the younger rider, her hand moving to give his shoulder the lightest of touches to prove this before her attention is sent back to the sky. She cringes as she watches, and feels her dragon going in for a dive, there is an ache in her shoulder and arm and she is rather sure that is not her arm that hurts. "Niumdreoth…" Is murmured out faintly, tone worrisome over this new development though she can't pull him from the dive, the brown is very much in this.

Lord of Time, Cikitsakath follows after the green with nearly the speed of premonition as she soars he's riding a similar thermal, wingsails billowing as it carries his lithe frame upwards before folding in his wings, one more so than the other, executing a banking dive toward the cloud cover below, his whirling purple gaze ever on the glowing gem. As she reaches out to his mind she'll no doubt find a cave of endless possibilities and rooms, some lush, some wacky, always changing. He bugles to her as she begins to slow, using the thermals to conserve his strength for this final moment and then he bursts forward after her, full of grace and agility. « Run away with me, Typriaeth! We can run away and never look back! Your cleverness is ever a match for my own and together we can see everything! » He's closer now, so close, meters away from that bright gemmed hide and he reaches for her, crooning the song beating away in his heart.

Yhri's fists clench and the brownrider finds herself feeling the sensations of flight as it she were the one actually performing them. Her breath comes in sharp little inhales, clearly wrapped up in the sensations far above them, her face turning upwards toward the gloomy clouds and seeing beyond them to the chase above. As the Wingleader's dragon moves closer to the green so too she finds herself moving closer to Anique, her heart racing as she looks at the Weyrling, feeling compelled to take her even as she fights and tries to hold herself back from mimicking her dragon. It is simply coming to too much of a head inside her.

So close…no wait…she's not chosen yet. Frantically her mind reaches out to Anique's but perhaps there's simply no time to consider her rider's thoughts on the choice. Twisting suddenly she just barely avoids the Xanaduian brown who attempts to snare her from that way. Brushing past Rhyrith she is simply too fast for him to have any advantage for the catch, not can Niumdreoth get close as she twists yet again in midair to avoid that brown and she struggles to climb to break free of the males that converge. Her skills though aren't as clever as she thought however and even as she just barely manages to avoid one more male in the form of Cikitsakath she realizes that there are no more moves that she can do as Velokraeth is there and she's within his grasp and firmly too.

All that is heard from Anique is a gasp as her body tenses with each move now that Typriaeth does in the skies above. "Duck..spin.." she murmurs. "!" her eyes fly open suddenly as perhaps she and Typriaeth realize at the same time that even though the end is near they were not ready! This isn't to plan. Typriaeth was supposed to pick but with Anique. Together they would choose but….having tired faster than thought and the chasers drawing closer an unexpected victor emerges from this. Anique drags her gaze from M'ta and Mur'dah to stare unfocused at Th'ero, still having a hard time between being here on and the ground and up there in the skies with Typriaeth.

K'drozen jerks away sudddenly and closes his eyes and Rhyrith misses and soars off into the distance. THe brown rider turns to rapidly begin to leave the feeding grounds, to get away..

Mur'dah is slammed back into his body when Kalsuoth looses, the brown not sweating it too much as he glides down. Mur'dah's eyes snap open and he looks around, and he spots Anique looking at Th'ero. A resounding, sharp, "HA!" is torn from him and a wide grin spreads across his face as he looks at M'ta, almost tauntingly. Then he turns to stride off, snickering.

Rielth snorts softly, feeling the lack of the catch and deciding she just couldn't handle tha tmuch bronze. Yet. Next time. M'ta jerks out of the revere and stumbles towards Anique, "ANI!" He really doesn't want anyone else dragging her off… but he's not really all there, either.

Velokraeth is victorious and wrapping himself around Typriaeth in a possessive and tight embrace he will carry her off and away. Down below, Th'ero is jolted, reeling for a moment as his thoughts scrabble — no, no… he didn't want to! It should've been someone younger, and with his mind now lost to his bronze, the Weyrleader is but a shell of himself. Yet he moves all the same, guided mostly by instinct. Velokraeth has Typriaeth and so he moves in swiftly to snare Anique, gripping hard as he drags her to him. As M'ta stumbles forwards and calls out, Th'ero glowers at him and his lips draw back in a silent snarl. Don't interfere! All but pinning Anique against his body, he turns to put himself between her and the foreign bronzerider. Then he's aiming to usher her forwards to stumble to the guest weyr. Time to get out of the public eye.

Niumdreoth is so close, so very very close Then he is left pulling hard to the side to avoid a mid air hitting into another dragon, there is a deep rumble escaping him and he faults slightly before making his wing stretch as he glides downwards. Abigail grunts at the feeling, her form tensing and then well the flight is all but over, her shoulder aches along with her dragon's, strain perhaps, past wounds making themselves known. The Wingsecond stumbles slightly, leaning back against the fence and grumbling while her hand grips her shoulder a moment, a quick glance is sent towards Anique and Th'ero, though there is the voice that catches her attention and she sends a glance towards M'ta. "Let 'em be." Her voice holding no edge and just loud enough to be caught. She turns then going to see to her dragon.

Cikitsakath reaches for the green, so close, but then his claim is denied as she twists away from him, falling into the clutches of Velokraeth, leaving the brown to soar, looping backwards and switching over to head back to the Weyr, flying into the sunset. Meanwhile on the ground the fog slowly clears from Yhri's mind, causing her to shake her head and clear away the last lingering cobwebs, feeling flushed and unfulfilled now. She looks to Th'ero and then Anique and swallows, leaving them to finish without further word.

Anique is caught firmly and truly much like Typriaeth is above them. Her thoughts are barely formed to grasp the concept that it is the Weyrleader striding towards her when suddenly he is there and his hands are gripping her to pull her close. M'ta's anguished call of her name is barely heard though surely it'll register later. For now she's shielded from the Eastern rider by Th'ero and she's being ushered easy;y enough towards the guest weyr.

Mur'dah stops when M'ta calls out, turning to wait and see if he's needed to step in and intervene. Just incase the bronzerider gets some foolish ideas about substitutions.

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