Post by hseru on Dec 30, 2008 0:37:25 GMT -5
Deceased: Died in Selenitas Earthquake Plot
Humans:
Name: S’lain
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Rank: Wing Rider (blue), Journeyman healer
Physical Appearance:
Of middling height, S’lain stands some 5’7”, a well muscled figure of a man with wide shoulders and narrow hips that easily support long legs and arms with broad, nimble hands; the body of a swimmer and sprinter. Being neither by profession, his skin in deeply tanned from time on the wing, broad splashes of barely darker freckles still casting a childish look to him. His hair, originally an even-toned dark brown, has been bleached to a much lighter sandy hue in variegated streaks along the top. The bangs are short enough to never block his view, while the majority has been cut to end just at the base of his neck, protecting it from the sun and the harsh cold of Between.
His eyes are a light grey color, sometimes switching with the light to a more blue hue, however one eye is a bit milky, with scars covering the flesh around it in evidence as to why. The scars run in two lines, from just at his temple on the right hand side, to the curve of his jaw. The smaller of the two scars crosses his eye, leaving him partially blind on that side, able to see only vague colors and movement.
Personality:
S’lain is generally a fun loving person, sometimes a bit brash but with a fairly good head on his shoulders. Because of his upbringing, he is well educated, and loves it. He won’t go so far as to rub it in the faces of everyone, but it is relatively easy to start him animatedly talking on a subject, only to never hear the end of what he knows about it.
He is especially vociferous in his main subject of study – dragon anatomy and healing. He will generally partake in jokes and laughter, though it does not come as easily as it once did.
The incident in which he gained his scars significantly changed his attitude towards life and flying. Before, he was known as a bit of a trouble maker, and an unnecessary risk taker. To some, the change to a more somber, serious Rider was a good one, and just in time for the impending threat of thread. Any daring do was now done with careful thought and consideration, though no hesitation was given when another rider’s life lay on the line.
He has taken scars meant for others without regret, and likely will do so again.
History:
Born in Selenitas Weyr, S’lain’s mother, Kairina, was the leading influence in his life for the first twelve years. His father, Jeoffry was mostly absent, a trader specializing in the roads traversing the dangerous jungles of the Southern Continent. Kairina’s specialty was healing, of the human variety. A Master healer, she often brought S’lain, then known as Sylain, with her when she practiced her craft.
Fascinated by the healing craft, Sylain was apprenticed to his mother at ten, and found an aptitude for it. His hands, already too large for his growing body, were adept at the grinding of herbs and the delicate packing of a wound, or setting of a bone. Each of these lessons his mother taught him, demonstrating with each other the proper way to wrap an injury. Still an apprentice, he was not allowed to do such on an actual patient, but he watched his mother’s every move, cataloguing it for later reference.
Around the age of 13, a rider friend of his mother posed a thought to the both of him. Sylain was still young enough to start on the dragon healing path, and despite the fact that it was not a much needed craft at the time, without the injuries sustained from Thread, injuries still occurred nevertheless during a queen’s Rise, or the various recon missions going deeper south. Their friend went on to say that as a candidate, he would be able to even further the craft, continuously emerging himself in the ‘how to’s’ and ‘what for’s’ of the dragon body. He didn’t need to mention that they were always looking for more candidates to save the hatchlings from going Between.
It was intriguing, and Sylain had to say yes under those circumstances. Though unusual for a candidate to continue training in a craft alongside his rider training, Sylain’s mother was able to impress his aptitude for the healing arts upon the leading Master at the Weyr, who grudgingly accepted him. Though quite different from the ways to heal humans, his natural abilities sprang forth and soon the master was privately looking forward to the day when he would join the fold, rather than become a rider.
It was tough learning twice the lessons usually required of a candidate, but in this environment, Sylain flourished and blossomed. Blossomed into a prankster that is. More than one prank pulled on the older candidates was masterminded by Sylain, for which he got caught most of the time. For the rest, he claimed it was worth it to see the older, and sometimes bossier, candidates brought down a peg.
It was thus that he came into the hatching grounds half a turn later with a better than average understanding of the magnificent creatures he had come to love. Excitement thrilled through him as the thrumming of the many numbered dragons drummed all the way to his over-warm toes in the too thin sandals. Everything was bright and warm, and he was glad for the white robes, which were a bit thin but blessedly airy.
A few eggs began to rock, and the hatching began with a frenzy as three hatchlings broke through almost at the same time. Hatchlings stumbled about everywhere, finding their chosen and ambling off the get stuffed with fresh meat.
With the hatching of the last two eggs, Sylain was still standing in line with the remaining candidates, fear in his heart that he would not impress. It was with a sinking feeling that he watched the last male, a small brown, stumble into the arms of the boy two spaces down from him. A sense of envy overcame him as he watched the boy’s face change into wonderment at the new feeling of having a mind partner.
The hatching ended, leaving Sylain unsure of what he wanted to do next. It was not uncommon for candidates to stand for multiple hatchings, but it certainly was heart wrenching.
Three turns passed, and during this time Sylain’s confidence as a dragon healer grew as his confidence in becoming a rider wavered. Standing through two more hatchings left him feeling empty, and soon it became obvious that his chances were dwindling. At 17, he only had a few more years, and he wasn’t certain he could continue to face the rejections.
His fourth, and perhaps last hatching dawned uneventful as he once again put on the white robes and too thin sandals. Shuffling out, he caught the edge of excitement, but attempted to not let it grab a true hold on him. He’d taken too many disappointments to truly immerse himself in the experience to only yet again find himself sunk in depression afterwards.
Lining up in the now familiar pattern, Sylain started listing the parts of a dragon’s body to himself while the thrumming of the dragons gained in pitch, matching that ‘hatching’ level he could now recognize with ease.
A few of the eggs began to rock, and faint tapping noises could be heard from within. The first egg, one located on the outer rim of the circle of eggs, rocked for a moment more, then cracked fully open, and a thin, keening cry rose into the air, the thrumming of the dragons intensifying. A little blue hatchling tumbled from the egg, and onto the sands, keening again, and already searching for the match to its soul among the candidates, its eye swirling in a myriad of colors.
Overhead, adding their own tribute to the various dragons' thrumming, someone's flits keened in their own little singsong voices as the second egg broke, revealing the small hatchling. Kreeling, it staggered outwards, stopping as if unsure of where to go. While its hesitation was so prominent, another two eggs began rocking, one of them bursting to reveal a large brown, the other a mottled green. Though the skin tones were not as of yet bright, they would grow into their darker colors all too soon. Small wings flapping wetly, they both moved forward, keening again. Both the blue and new green staggered towards the female half circle, now out of the assorted boys' chances of impression.
Despite being somewhat distracted by the brown only a few paces away, Sylain glanced over to the eggs as another hatchling burst forth, another beautiful little green. When he looked back to the brown, it was with a bit of a sinking feeling that he saw the hatchling had already chosen its partner among the assembled boys.
He found that without noticing, he’d begun to hope again. There were quite a few eggs yet to hatch. Surely the chances were better for him with so many eggs.
With three dragons impressed, and one moving towards the line, two more eggs decided at that time to let their occupants out. A large, mottled egg let loose a bronze a bit bigger than the first brown with a crack, and it was followed shortly by the appearance of another blue, larger than the first.
With a muted keen, the bronze made its way over to the assembled boys, while the blue moved towards the girls initially, then turned to also lurch towards the line of boys.
The small bronze stumbled through the line of male candidates as he reached it, startling many of the boys into moving away from him. Searching about with swirling eyes, he then stepped confidently over to a boy just next to Sylain. His hopes fell again, his attention on the bronze, until something brushed none too gently against his side.
Sylain looked down into the swirling eyes of the large blue hatchling, who chirped upon being noticed, a higher pitched thrumming coming from his small, wet body.
~S’lainmine! I have found you. I am your Jaxith. Be happy.~ The words blossomed in his mind along with a vivid burst of color. Soothing blue, with a touch of red anger at whatever had his chosen so unhappy. That bright head tilted to the side, and S’lain was lost to words, kneeling down to encompass the hatchling in a hug. The small blue pressed up against him in a comforting way, and S’lain almost forgot what to do before the hatchling urgently reminded him.
~Hungry.~
Becoming a dragon healer soon took second seat to Jaxith and the life of a Rider. His training was continuous, and only in his spare time could he continue to learn more about healing. The way the Selenitas women governed became all too clear to him as he progressed in the ranks, and he disliked it immensely. He was certain that the holds joined to Selenitas Weyr didn’t deserve such treatment. Whenever he could, he attempted to give back, but there was just too much.
In this way, Jaxith grew into adulthood, with S’lain right on his heels. It was a couple of years later that S’lain was finally able to become a journeyman healer. It’d odd how fate makes these decisions in a person’s life, for his knowledge would be put to the test all too soon.
It was early in his fourth year as a rider that news of his family reached him, via runner. Paying an extended visit to Selenitas Hold, an urgent letter arrived concerning his father. Behind schedule at the Weyr, his train was supposed to have arrived two weeks ago. A thrill of fear for his father ran through him, and S’lain quickly returned to the Weyr.
A search was organized, though many believed he’d been claimed by the jungle, a fate that was overdue for someone in his line of business. S’lain would hear nothing of it, and threw himself into the search.
Two days passed with no signs, when the third day yielded results of the kind S’lain had dreaded to see. The scattered supplies were what caught his attention, and he signaled Jaxith to wing over the spot. Seeing nothing immediately dangerous, they landed in a nearby clearing large enough to hold Jaxith’s not quite grown bulk. Walking sedately to the scene, S’lain composed himself before truly taking in what he saw.
It was obvious that a large predator, or several large predators, had caught them unawares. The small traveling tents were trampled, but open as if they’d once been erect. There were no bodies, but splashes of old blood were dried upon the ground in spattered brown sheets. It was unlikely that any of the party members even survived long enough to run.
Taking a deep breath, S’lain accepted the fact that his father was dead.
Not a moment later, a ferocious roar split the jungle as five tan colored felines leapt out of the surrounding brush towards the two. Splitting up, only a single feline raced to S’lain, while the remaining four tested their luck and claws on Jaxith’s cobalt hide.
With no room to launch skywards, Jaxith was trapped, but hardly helpless. His horse sized fore hands snapped out, swiping a feline up and tossing it like a small rock into a nearby tree. The feline dropped to the ground, dead. The remaining three weren’t going to let up so easily, attempting to herd Jaxith further into the trees like a gazelle.
A scream split the still air as S’lain went down under the last feline.
Jaxith’s roar shook the very sky as the blue batted the felines aside like so many balls of fluff, racing to get to his partner in time.
~S’lain, I’m coming!~
A massive blue paw ‘thwacked’ into the feline so hard, it was dead before it disappeared into the dense foliage. S’lain rolled onto his side, blood pouring from multiple wounds, including a jagged rend across one side of his face, obscuring his features.
“I’m …ok Jaxi.” He mumbled, spitting blood as he sat up. Reaching back in his memory to when he was learning how to heal humans, he could tell that his injuries weren’t immediately life threatening, though they were very close to it.
Two of the momentarily forgotten felines leapt upon Jaxith’s wide back, tearing into his left wing with a vengeance. With mad, whirling eyes, Jaxith sank his teeth into one, while his tail snapped out to hit the one feline still on the ground. The last feline was soon dispatched as well, and the jungle grew quiet again.
The two of them lay panting side by side for a time before S’lain could muster the strength to push past both his and Jaxith’s pain to see to his partner. He was horrified to find that the felines had ripped most of the way through Jaxith’s flight arteries and some of the large muscles. It was a difficult injury to fix in the best of circumstances. S’lain dragged his pack off of the blue’s back, digging through for his supplies. If there was any chance of saving Jaxith’s wing, he’d have to work on it now, before the muscles lost more blood and died. Should he wait, the walk back to the Weyr would take far too long to leave any chance of Jaxith ever flying again.
Their return to the Weyr was heralded with happy shouts. Days after the attack, and days after they should have checked in, rumor had flown that the two had suffered the same fate as S’lain’s father. His mother was waiting, and watched in horror as her bloodied son rode in nearly unconscious on Jaxith’s back, his skin flaming hot with fever.
Amazingly enough, because of S’lain’s quick actions, Jaxith’s wing was on the mend, and with some ministrations from the Master healer, it was stated that he was likely to make a full recovery. S’lain, on the other hand, lay abed for the next month fighting the infection that tried to claim his eye. He won, but barely, loosing much of his sight to the point that he could still see light, and some color and movement, but not much more. It was with mixed feelings that he rejoined Jaxith a month later, and they took to the skies.
A hatred of felines grew in the both of them, Jaxith feeding from S’lain. Two years after the attack, a group for hunting the beasts was created, however the thought of hunting felines was driven from everyone’s mind with the first thread fall, and the impression of the new queen to a woman outside the Selenitas line.
S’lain was glad, for one, that maybe things would change with the new queen’s rider. After all, with the threat of thread on every horizon now, a new way of doing things would be welcome.
Dragon:
Name: Jaxith
Color: Blue
Age: 11
Physical Appearance:
Jaxith is quite big for a blue, both in sheer length and wingspan. The majority of his scales are a deep, rich cobalt with a few darker, almost midnight colored patches scattered along his back ridge. Along his belly, the colors are much paler, a viridian. The membranes of his wings match this color, while his tail slowly gradates from the lovely cobalt to the darker, midnight color at the very tip. The scar from his attack is plainly visible on the large muscles of his right wing. His limbs are long and lean, carrying his lengthy serpentine body high off the ground, while his over-long tail easily brushes the ground behind.
Best suited for long hours on the wing, Jaxith’s pinions are still well equipped for maneuverability during thread fall.
Personality:
Jaxith is overly protective of S’lain in almost every circumstance. He blames himself for S’lain’s injuries, and despite him saying otherwise, has vowed to never allow his partner to get seriously hurt again. Though overshadowed with his protectiveness, Jaxith is fairly intelligent and tends to like most people and dragons. His favorite thing to do is go swimming, and if S’lain joins him, the world seems right. A bit restless when he has nothing to do, Jaxith will take long flights over the herd beasts to watch them scatter.
Serenade Blue -Stalker
Color: Blue #00F0FF
Gender: Male
Age: Hatchling
Looks To: S'lain
Physical Appearance: This salamandyr is of average build for his species. His wings are proportioned well for his body, acting as tiny sails in emergencies but otherwise useless, while his tail is unusually long and excellent for curling around fingers. The tail makes up the majority of his body length, and if removed from sight, his size is drastically reduced. Little legs hold his body just barely above surfaces, emphasizing just how small salamandyrs normally are. Even his claws are perfectly formed, giving the impression that this little creature is more a model than a living entity. Even his color is a spectacular representation. Like his egg, his body is a backwash of blue with green low and highlights, as though the sea itself were woven into hide. All over his body are tiny white-blue spots like silvery sparkles, making him seem to glitter as he moves. When he sits still, the combination of his so mysterious color and sculpted build is to make him resemble some kind of crafted glass; fine art to be sure, as only the best Mastercraftsman could create. However, just because he appears breakable doesn't mean he is. Dropping him will not shatter him into a thousand pieces, but it might earn someone a good nip or two for their nerve!
Personality: A proud little creature to be sure, this salamandyr is not satisfied unless he is the most adored creature in whatever room (or location) he happens to be in. High perches where he is easily seen will be one of his favorite places to be, thus no one's head is safe - be it human or dragon alike. Nor will it be uncommon for him to abruptly, and quite defiantly blurt out one single word to draw all pairs of eyes to him. He's beautiful - shouldn't everyone be noticing that already? Bright lights are a particularly favored spot for him, for they bring out the sheen of his hide, and he likes to preen where all can admire him. Should anyone not realize how wonderful he is, they will be quickly reminded. If repeating words don't work (he is very fond of compliments paid to him and thus will often remember those most often), he isn't above stalking to prove a point. Never violent, his means of revenge are far more personal and exquisite: fools who earn his ire will find themselves waking up with a pair of eyes staring at them until they relent and accept that he's the best thing to ever happen to Pern. From his bonded he will require constant praise and, should he fail to receive it, the same sort of revenge will be bestowed in earnest. His should love him best of all, because he picked them -- and his opinion is the most valuable thing on all of Pern!
Name: Semi-Charmed Life
Looks to: S’lain
Age: Hatchling
Gender: Male (Brown - #673200)
Species: Fire Lizard
Appearance: This is a decent sized brown with a generous, but not exceptionally large wingspan. His strong muscled neck has a well defined curve to it, allowing him to hold his head high and proud. His neck spines are rather small and blunted, but rather than stopping between his shoulder blades as is typical on a flitter, they run all the way down his spine to the base of his tail. This feature makes him easy to recognize, and quite interesting to pet.
He is a warm and rich shade of dusty brown, not really striking, but charming in a disheveled sort of way. Far from pristine, this brown will always look dirty even when he’s been scrubbed and oiled within an inch of his life. The mottled quality of his hide makes him appear perpetually dusty, and a sprinkling of dark speckles across his face almost make him look as if he’s spent too much time in the sun and freckled as a result. He most definitely resembles an outdoorsy type.
Personality: Upbeat and positive, it will be hard to keep this brown down for long. He has a talent for finding the bright side of things, and a gently personality that tends to put others at ease. Finding compromises and meeting new people are some of his favorite pastimes, and he will do is very best to collect and maintain as many friends as possible.
He loves nothing better than a good game, most especially when it involves playing with round things that resemble balls. He will likely spend quite a bit of his time acting as playmate to the Weyr’s feline population, and will be prone to borrowing ‘toys’ from His if there are no apples or yarn to be found. It should be noted that this brown absolutely abhors red meat, and will fish for most of his own food. Crabs are his favorite, but he will rarely be able to catch them on his own. That’s what friends are for after all!
[x] By checking this box, I am saying that I have read the Rules and History, and will follow them.
Humans:
Name: S’lain
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Rank: Wing Rider (blue), Journeyman healer
Physical Appearance:
Of middling height, S’lain stands some 5’7”, a well muscled figure of a man with wide shoulders and narrow hips that easily support long legs and arms with broad, nimble hands; the body of a swimmer and sprinter. Being neither by profession, his skin in deeply tanned from time on the wing, broad splashes of barely darker freckles still casting a childish look to him. His hair, originally an even-toned dark brown, has been bleached to a much lighter sandy hue in variegated streaks along the top. The bangs are short enough to never block his view, while the majority has been cut to end just at the base of his neck, protecting it from the sun and the harsh cold of Between.
His eyes are a light grey color, sometimes switching with the light to a more blue hue, however one eye is a bit milky, with scars covering the flesh around it in evidence as to why. The scars run in two lines, from just at his temple on the right hand side, to the curve of his jaw. The smaller of the two scars crosses his eye, leaving him partially blind on that side, able to see only vague colors and movement.
Personality:
S’lain is generally a fun loving person, sometimes a bit brash but with a fairly good head on his shoulders. Because of his upbringing, he is well educated, and loves it. He won’t go so far as to rub it in the faces of everyone, but it is relatively easy to start him animatedly talking on a subject, only to never hear the end of what he knows about it.
He is especially vociferous in his main subject of study – dragon anatomy and healing. He will generally partake in jokes and laughter, though it does not come as easily as it once did.
The incident in which he gained his scars significantly changed his attitude towards life and flying. Before, he was known as a bit of a trouble maker, and an unnecessary risk taker. To some, the change to a more somber, serious Rider was a good one, and just in time for the impending threat of thread. Any daring do was now done with careful thought and consideration, though no hesitation was given when another rider’s life lay on the line.
He has taken scars meant for others without regret, and likely will do so again.
History:
Born in Selenitas Weyr, S’lain’s mother, Kairina, was the leading influence in his life for the first twelve years. His father, Jeoffry was mostly absent, a trader specializing in the roads traversing the dangerous jungles of the Southern Continent. Kairina’s specialty was healing, of the human variety. A Master healer, she often brought S’lain, then known as Sylain, with her when she practiced her craft.
Fascinated by the healing craft, Sylain was apprenticed to his mother at ten, and found an aptitude for it. His hands, already too large for his growing body, were adept at the grinding of herbs and the delicate packing of a wound, or setting of a bone. Each of these lessons his mother taught him, demonstrating with each other the proper way to wrap an injury. Still an apprentice, he was not allowed to do such on an actual patient, but he watched his mother’s every move, cataloguing it for later reference.
Around the age of 13, a rider friend of his mother posed a thought to the both of him. Sylain was still young enough to start on the dragon healing path, and despite the fact that it was not a much needed craft at the time, without the injuries sustained from Thread, injuries still occurred nevertheless during a queen’s Rise, or the various recon missions going deeper south. Their friend went on to say that as a candidate, he would be able to even further the craft, continuously emerging himself in the ‘how to’s’ and ‘what for’s’ of the dragon body. He didn’t need to mention that they were always looking for more candidates to save the hatchlings from going Between.
It was intriguing, and Sylain had to say yes under those circumstances. Though unusual for a candidate to continue training in a craft alongside his rider training, Sylain’s mother was able to impress his aptitude for the healing arts upon the leading Master at the Weyr, who grudgingly accepted him. Though quite different from the ways to heal humans, his natural abilities sprang forth and soon the master was privately looking forward to the day when he would join the fold, rather than become a rider.
It was tough learning twice the lessons usually required of a candidate, but in this environment, Sylain flourished and blossomed. Blossomed into a prankster that is. More than one prank pulled on the older candidates was masterminded by Sylain, for which he got caught most of the time. For the rest, he claimed it was worth it to see the older, and sometimes bossier, candidates brought down a peg.
It was thus that he came into the hatching grounds half a turn later with a better than average understanding of the magnificent creatures he had come to love. Excitement thrilled through him as the thrumming of the many numbered dragons drummed all the way to his over-warm toes in the too thin sandals. Everything was bright and warm, and he was glad for the white robes, which were a bit thin but blessedly airy.
A few eggs began to rock, and the hatching began with a frenzy as three hatchlings broke through almost at the same time. Hatchlings stumbled about everywhere, finding their chosen and ambling off the get stuffed with fresh meat.
With the hatching of the last two eggs, Sylain was still standing in line with the remaining candidates, fear in his heart that he would not impress. It was with a sinking feeling that he watched the last male, a small brown, stumble into the arms of the boy two spaces down from him. A sense of envy overcame him as he watched the boy’s face change into wonderment at the new feeling of having a mind partner.
The hatching ended, leaving Sylain unsure of what he wanted to do next. It was not uncommon for candidates to stand for multiple hatchings, but it certainly was heart wrenching.
Three turns passed, and during this time Sylain’s confidence as a dragon healer grew as his confidence in becoming a rider wavered. Standing through two more hatchings left him feeling empty, and soon it became obvious that his chances were dwindling. At 17, he only had a few more years, and he wasn’t certain he could continue to face the rejections.
His fourth, and perhaps last hatching dawned uneventful as he once again put on the white robes and too thin sandals. Shuffling out, he caught the edge of excitement, but attempted to not let it grab a true hold on him. He’d taken too many disappointments to truly immerse himself in the experience to only yet again find himself sunk in depression afterwards.
Lining up in the now familiar pattern, Sylain started listing the parts of a dragon’s body to himself while the thrumming of the dragons gained in pitch, matching that ‘hatching’ level he could now recognize with ease.
A few of the eggs began to rock, and faint tapping noises could be heard from within. The first egg, one located on the outer rim of the circle of eggs, rocked for a moment more, then cracked fully open, and a thin, keening cry rose into the air, the thrumming of the dragons intensifying. A little blue hatchling tumbled from the egg, and onto the sands, keening again, and already searching for the match to its soul among the candidates, its eye swirling in a myriad of colors.
Overhead, adding their own tribute to the various dragons' thrumming, someone's flits keened in their own little singsong voices as the second egg broke, revealing the small hatchling. Kreeling, it staggered outwards, stopping as if unsure of where to go. While its hesitation was so prominent, another two eggs began rocking, one of them bursting to reveal a large brown, the other a mottled green. Though the skin tones were not as of yet bright, they would grow into their darker colors all too soon. Small wings flapping wetly, they both moved forward, keening again. Both the blue and new green staggered towards the female half circle, now out of the assorted boys' chances of impression.
Despite being somewhat distracted by the brown only a few paces away, Sylain glanced over to the eggs as another hatchling burst forth, another beautiful little green. When he looked back to the brown, it was with a bit of a sinking feeling that he saw the hatchling had already chosen its partner among the assembled boys.
He found that without noticing, he’d begun to hope again. There were quite a few eggs yet to hatch. Surely the chances were better for him with so many eggs.
With three dragons impressed, and one moving towards the line, two more eggs decided at that time to let their occupants out. A large, mottled egg let loose a bronze a bit bigger than the first brown with a crack, and it was followed shortly by the appearance of another blue, larger than the first.
With a muted keen, the bronze made its way over to the assembled boys, while the blue moved towards the girls initially, then turned to also lurch towards the line of boys.
The small bronze stumbled through the line of male candidates as he reached it, startling many of the boys into moving away from him. Searching about with swirling eyes, he then stepped confidently over to a boy just next to Sylain. His hopes fell again, his attention on the bronze, until something brushed none too gently against his side.
Sylain looked down into the swirling eyes of the large blue hatchling, who chirped upon being noticed, a higher pitched thrumming coming from his small, wet body.
~S’lainmine! I have found you. I am your Jaxith. Be happy.~ The words blossomed in his mind along with a vivid burst of color. Soothing blue, with a touch of red anger at whatever had his chosen so unhappy. That bright head tilted to the side, and S’lain was lost to words, kneeling down to encompass the hatchling in a hug. The small blue pressed up against him in a comforting way, and S’lain almost forgot what to do before the hatchling urgently reminded him.
~Hungry.~
Becoming a dragon healer soon took second seat to Jaxith and the life of a Rider. His training was continuous, and only in his spare time could he continue to learn more about healing. The way the Selenitas women governed became all too clear to him as he progressed in the ranks, and he disliked it immensely. He was certain that the holds joined to Selenitas Weyr didn’t deserve such treatment. Whenever he could, he attempted to give back, but there was just too much.
In this way, Jaxith grew into adulthood, with S’lain right on his heels. It was a couple of years later that S’lain was finally able to become a journeyman healer. It’d odd how fate makes these decisions in a person’s life, for his knowledge would be put to the test all too soon.
It was early in his fourth year as a rider that news of his family reached him, via runner. Paying an extended visit to Selenitas Hold, an urgent letter arrived concerning his father. Behind schedule at the Weyr, his train was supposed to have arrived two weeks ago. A thrill of fear for his father ran through him, and S’lain quickly returned to the Weyr.
A search was organized, though many believed he’d been claimed by the jungle, a fate that was overdue for someone in his line of business. S’lain would hear nothing of it, and threw himself into the search.
Two days passed with no signs, when the third day yielded results of the kind S’lain had dreaded to see. The scattered supplies were what caught his attention, and he signaled Jaxith to wing over the spot. Seeing nothing immediately dangerous, they landed in a nearby clearing large enough to hold Jaxith’s not quite grown bulk. Walking sedately to the scene, S’lain composed himself before truly taking in what he saw.
It was obvious that a large predator, or several large predators, had caught them unawares. The small traveling tents were trampled, but open as if they’d once been erect. There were no bodies, but splashes of old blood were dried upon the ground in spattered brown sheets. It was unlikely that any of the party members even survived long enough to run.
Taking a deep breath, S’lain accepted the fact that his father was dead.
Not a moment later, a ferocious roar split the jungle as five tan colored felines leapt out of the surrounding brush towards the two. Splitting up, only a single feline raced to S’lain, while the remaining four tested their luck and claws on Jaxith’s cobalt hide.
With no room to launch skywards, Jaxith was trapped, but hardly helpless. His horse sized fore hands snapped out, swiping a feline up and tossing it like a small rock into a nearby tree. The feline dropped to the ground, dead. The remaining three weren’t going to let up so easily, attempting to herd Jaxith further into the trees like a gazelle.
A scream split the still air as S’lain went down under the last feline.
Jaxith’s roar shook the very sky as the blue batted the felines aside like so many balls of fluff, racing to get to his partner in time.
~S’lain, I’m coming!~
A massive blue paw ‘thwacked’ into the feline so hard, it was dead before it disappeared into the dense foliage. S’lain rolled onto his side, blood pouring from multiple wounds, including a jagged rend across one side of his face, obscuring his features.
“I’m …ok Jaxi.” He mumbled, spitting blood as he sat up. Reaching back in his memory to when he was learning how to heal humans, he could tell that his injuries weren’t immediately life threatening, though they were very close to it.
Two of the momentarily forgotten felines leapt upon Jaxith’s wide back, tearing into his left wing with a vengeance. With mad, whirling eyes, Jaxith sank his teeth into one, while his tail snapped out to hit the one feline still on the ground. The last feline was soon dispatched as well, and the jungle grew quiet again.
The two of them lay panting side by side for a time before S’lain could muster the strength to push past both his and Jaxith’s pain to see to his partner. He was horrified to find that the felines had ripped most of the way through Jaxith’s flight arteries and some of the large muscles. It was a difficult injury to fix in the best of circumstances. S’lain dragged his pack off of the blue’s back, digging through for his supplies. If there was any chance of saving Jaxith’s wing, he’d have to work on it now, before the muscles lost more blood and died. Should he wait, the walk back to the Weyr would take far too long to leave any chance of Jaxith ever flying again.
…
Their return to the Weyr was heralded with happy shouts. Days after the attack, and days after they should have checked in, rumor had flown that the two had suffered the same fate as S’lain’s father. His mother was waiting, and watched in horror as her bloodied son rode in nearly unconscious on Jaxith’s back, his skin flaming hot with fever.
Amazingly enough, because of S’lain’s quick actions, Jaxith’s wing was on the mend, and with some ministrations from the Master healer, it was stated that he was likely to make a full recovery. S’lain, on the other hand, lay abed for the next month fighting the infection that tried to claim his eye. He won, but barely, loosing much of his sight to the point that he could still see light, and some color and movement, but not much more. It was with mixed feelings that he rejoined Jaxith a month later, and they took to the skies.
A hatred of felines grew in the both of them, Jaxith feeding from S’lain. Two years after the attack, a group for hunting the beasts was created, however the thought of hunting felines was driven from everyone’s mind with the first thread fall, and the impression of the new queen to a woman outside the Selenitas line.
S’lain was glad, for one, that maybe things would change with the new queen’s rider. After all, with the threat of thread on every horizon now, a new way of doing things would be welcome.
Dragon:
Name: Jaxith
Color: Blue
Age: 11
Physical Appearance:
Jaxith is quite big for a blue, both in sheer length and wingspan. The majority of his scales are a deep, rich cobalt with a few darker, almost midnight colored patches scattered along his back ridge. Along his belly, the colors are much paler, a viridian. The membranes of his wings match this color, while his tail slowly gradates from the lovely cobalt to the darker, midnight color at the very tip. The scar from his attack is plainly visible on the large muscles of his right wing. His limbs are long and lean, carrying his lengthy serpentine body high off the ground, while his over-long tail easily brushes the ground behind.
Best suited for long hours on the wing, Jaxith’s pinions are still well equipped for maneuverability during thread fall.
Personality:
Jaxith is overly protective of S’lain in almost every circumstance. He blames himself for S’lain’s injuries, and despite him saying otherwise, has vowed to never allow his partner to get seriously hurt again. Though overshadowed with his protectiveness, Jaxith is fairly intelligent and tends to like most people and dragons. His favorite thing to do is go swimming, and if S’lain joins him, the world seems right. A bit restless when he has nothing to do, Jaxith will take long flights over the herd beasts to watch them scatter.
Serenade Blue -Stalker
Color: Blue #00F0FF
Gender: Male
Age: Hatchling
Looks To: S'lain
Physical Appearance: This salamandyr is of average build for his species. His wings are proportioned well for his body, acting as tiny sails in emergencies but otherwise useless, while his tail is unusually long and excellent for curling around fingers. The tail makes up the majority of his body length, and if removed from sight, his size is drastically reduced. Little legs hold his body just barely above surfaces, emphasizing just how small salamandyrs normally are. Even his claws are perfectly formed, giving the impression that this little creature is more a model than a living entity. Even his color is a spectacular representation. Like his egg, his body is a backwash of blue with green low and highlights, as though the sea itself were woven into hide. All over his body are tiny white-blue spots like silvery sparkles, making him seem to glitter as he moves. When he sits still, the combination of his so mysterious color and sculpted build is to make him resemble some kind of crafted glass; fine art to be sure, as only the best Mastercraftsman could create. However, just because he appears breakable doesn't mean he is. Dropping him will not shatter him into a thousand pieces, but it might earn someone a good nip or two for their nerve!
Personality: A proud little creature to be sure, this salamandyr is not satisfied unless he is the most adored creature in whatever room (or location) he happens to be in. High perches where he is easily seen will be one of his favorite places to be, thus no one's head is safe - be it human or dragon alike. Nor will it be uncommon for him to abruptly, and quite defiantly blurt out one single word to draw all pairs of eyes to him. He's beautiful - shouldn't everyone be noticing that already? Bright lights are a particularly favored spot for him, for they bring out the sheen of his hide, and he likes to preen where all can admire him. Should anyone not realize how wonderful he is, they will be quickly reminded. If repeating words don't work (he is very fond of compliments paid to him and thus will often remember those most often), he isn't above stalking to prove a point. Never violent, his means of revenge are far more personal and exquisite: fools who earn his ire will find themselves waking up with a pair of eyes staring at them until they relent and accept that he's the best thing to ever happen to Pern. From his bonded he will require constant praise and, should he fail to receive it, the same sort of revenge will be bestowed in earnest. His should love him best of all, because he picked them -- and his opinion is the most valuable thing on all of Pern!
Name: Semi-Charmed Life
Looks to: S’lain
Age: Hatchling
Gender: Male (Brown - #673200)
Species: Fire Lizard
Appearance: This is a decent sized brown with a generous, but not exceptionally large wingspan. His strong muscled neck has a well defined curve to it, allowing him to hold his head high and proud. His neck spines are rather small and blunted, but rather than stopping between his shoulder blades as is typical on a flitter, they run all the way down his spine to the base of his tail. This feature makes him easy to recognize, and quite interesting to pet.
He is a warm and rich shade of dusty brown, not really striking, but charming in a disheveled sort of way. Far from pristine, this brown will always look dirty even when he’s been scrubbed and oiled within an inch of his life. The mottled quality of his hide makes him appear perpetually dusty, and a sprinkling of dark speckles across his face almost make him look as if he’s spent too much time in the sun and freckled as a result. He most definitely resembles an outdoorsy type.
Personality: Upbeat and positive, it will be hard to keep this brown down for long. He has a talent for finding the bright side of things, and a gently personality that tends to put others at ease. Finding compromises and meeting new people are some of his favorite pastimes, and he will do is very best to collect and maintain as many friends as possible.
He loves nothing better than a good game, most especially when it involves playing with round things that resemble balls. He will likely spend quite a bit of his time acting as playmate to the Weyr’s feline population, and will be prone to borrowing ‘toys’ from His if there are no apples or yarn to be found. It should be noted that this brown absolutely abhors red meat, and will fish for most of his own food. Crabs are his favorite, but he will rarely be able to catch them on his own. That’s what friends are for after all!
[x] By checking this box, I am saying that I have read the Rules and History, and will follow them.
