Just testing for poison...

[dragon]

Noting that something was happening over at the Main hall, Kindrith nudged E'yan's shoulder. I think they found her. He said, stating the obvious. E'yan merely nodded, and hopped aboard his dragon for the short trip over to the island. Sliding off Kindrith's shoulder, E'yan took the stairs two at a time until he made it into the building. There, he stopped and looked around.

Surely, there was Shmee. Looking for all the world like she was taking a well needed nap on a table top. And E'rro ... and T'rid ... and many many others arrayed around. E'rro was the closest to the Weyrwoman, and E'yan couldn't help but be suspicious. But he held all those boiling emotions in check ... appearances could very well be deceiving. For all E'yan knew, E'rro had just been the first to find her. He was pretty sure E'rro was not a healer.

"What happened?" Having missed anything that had been said already, it was only natural that he ask. The question was liable to be repeated by everyone in the Weyr long before the day was over.

~~~

Something is going on over at the main hall. Aonith mentioned, as she glided over the Weyr.

"Alright. Let's go there." Dorava said, wiping the tears from her face with the back of one hand. Aonith glided to a halt under the tree, in space that was quickly becoming too crowded to do much of anything. "Wait here. I might need you." Dorava told her, before jumping down and sprinting up the stairs as fast as she could go, bypassing some other people. She couldn't get in the door, however ... it was too crowded, and she'd gotten out of the habit of elbowing ribs and or stomping feet to get through a very long time ago.

Faranth! She was a healer! They should let her through, if Shmee was in there! Granted, she might not be the best healer in the Weyr ... yet ... but that didn't change much! Picking up on Dorava's stress, Val scrambled out of her pocket and up onto her shoudler, and started shreiking and flashing at everyone around her. No! No! No! Keep! Val ... No! No! NOOO! He hissed, debating on whether or not he should start chewing on all those ears that were at his eye level.

[Avu]

Not...not sure? T'rid, for once, had no sarcastic comment, and simply waited, expectantly. He had to have some guess, something to go on...no puncture wounds, no blood, visible bruises, blows to the head, or really anything to show a violent death, the brownrider went on; well, he knew that. T'rid may not exactly be a Healer, but he wasn't unobservant and it was quite obvious...he simply swallowed, crossing his arms absently across his chest and staring blankly down at Shmee, as if the answers to every question that yearned to bubble up in his throat could be found if he simply sought hard enough. There was something in her expression that vaguely repulsed him, in that eerie smile, as if she had been happy for the end to come...another slight wave of nausea swept over him and the bronzerider carefully kept his face neutral.

"Poison?" Th word hissed from between clenched teeth, echoing E'rro, barely a second after the brownrider finished speaking, and quite nearly missed the instructions. "Poison? The sharding..." The rest of the stream of profanities became incoherent as he bit his lip, stifling them, and spun on his heel, only then registering what E'rro had said. Don't touch anything but...the Lady? Shmee? He didn't want to touch her, really. The Weyrleader couldn't help but clench his hands at the thought. Would she be cold yet, or would there still be warmth, lingering? He didn't know, and didn't want to find out. And it didn't matter. It wouldn't help unless she'd poisoned herself, and maybe had a package of powder somewhere on her, but he doubted it - she had much to live for; her Weyr, her Weyrmate and her baby, and Aslath. No; a Weyrwoman would not suicide when she still had her dragon, and they were more or less certain that Aslath had suicided because Shmee had died, and not the other way around.

"Uh, yes..." he muttered, waving a vague hand in the direction of the body and turning on his heel, jaw still clenched. "Look around, then..." Nobody. Let nobody in but Riders and healers - preferably not even Riders, as no doubt he'd have to hold some conference involving the Wingleaders and their Seconds and they'd pass on the information anyway - but too late; already a few Riders had made their way into the Main Hall. Old habits died hard, and T'rid instinctively scanned their knots. Bronzerider and two blueriders, and then the surge of Weyrfolk, pressing near the entrance of the Main Hall, each jabbering excitedly, anxiously; he could make out a shrill, terrified baby wailing, could hear bellows and screamed denials and a terror that enveloped the Weyr at large.

"If you're not healers, get back!" He raised his voice, still vaguely surprised that he would be obeyed as most of the Drudges obediently stepped back. "Get back and shut up!" the bronzerider added, yelling to be heard above the hysterical chatter. "Damn it, we don't know what's happened yet, so there's no use starting rumors yet!" With a glare, daring them to speak - T'rid swiveled back to the Riders that had gathered, rubbing his eyes wearily with the back of one hand as he stated crisp instructions. "If you're a healer, ask brownrider over there what you can do, but shells, use your brain and don't get in the way if you're only at apprentice level; if you're not, don't touch anything and give them space." The words dropped into a hiss, but then, at E'yan's question, the bronzerider shook his head wearily, his voice flat as he stated, "We don't know. Maybe poison."

Ismaroth. Yes. Corinth stared at Millieth as she repeated the brown's name, clearly surprised. Why should the brownrider matter? And then, as she spoke again, the bronze froze, muscles stiffening as horror tinted his eyes. Can wait? No, it could not wait. It simply would not wait. An ex-Bendenite, just happened to be first on the scene? True, there were many refugees from Benden, but His had mentioned poison, and who had better access to poison than a Healer? He hated doing this, hated pinning the blame on someone simply because of what might have been pure chance, but with something this big, this catastrophic and devastating, there could be no slip-ups. There was life and death, survival of the fittest, and Corinth intended for Selenitas Weyr to survive. The bronze dragon nodded slowly to the remainder of the queen's statements.

Calm the dragons. Yes. They have a right to utter tribute, he pointed out softly, And dragons are not unreasonable. It is their Riders, the Weyrfolk, who panic. Let them sing, and once they are finished, we can speak to them and help them. Corinth rustled his wings in agitation, his tailtip tapping the stone ledge anxiously. Yours has fainted? Where is she? She mustn't be in any position to be hurt. Especially not if there was a Benden spy...but Ismaroth's was with His, and His had a knife and by his account, there were large amounts of Weyrfolk and Riders clamoring to know what was happening. He would be fine, but nevertheless...the bronze's voice was low and urgent as he continued. Millieth, I don't want to blame Ismaroth's simply because of what might be chance, but I need you to tell me everything you know about Ismaroth and His.

[topaz]

Mallowth was startled from his basking position on the river bank and looked to the sky as the dragons of Selenitas keened. Aslath! Mother! She is gone! The blue screeched pitifully. C'vin, lounging nearby, was suddenly hit with a wave of despair, pain, and fear. "Oh Mallowth!" He said, running over to the frantic hatchling and throwing his arms about his neck tightly. If the queen was gone, that meant the Weyrwoman was most likely gone as well. How? What happened? They don't know. Corinth calls for a search of the Weyr! Even before the blue finished his though he bolted towards the nearest doorway into the Weyr proper, C'vin stumbling after him. "Wait Mal! WAIT!"

The pair searched for what felt like hours to Mallowth, and seconds to C'vin, who was practically sprinting through the halls after his dragon the entire time. Mallowth was in a strange state of mind, one that C'vin could barely discern through the overwhelming sadness. The blue was terrified. He raced on however, needing to find some reason for the untimely deaths. With every empty room they passed, he keened desperately, scratching the stone floors with his claws. From down the corridor, C'vin had seen a few people hurridly enter the Main Hall. Mal look. Come on. He said, changing his direction slightly and jogging towards the open archway. As he stopped and peered through the forming crowd, he could see a figure, slumped in a chair, an eerie smile still on her lips. It's her. Mallowth trotted over and sat down next to His at the edge of the doorway. He moaned sorrowfully, and slumped his hulk against his bonded's leg, exhausted from their frantic search. C'vin's eyes stung at the sight of the Weyrwoman, and one small tear escaped his bottom lid, which he hastily brushed away. It'll be alright Mal. It'll be alright. He said, trying to comfort his mentally and physically exhausted dragon. A hand reached down to scratch the blue hatchling's eye ridge, but there was barely a response.

The two stayed there and watched as others attended to the Weyrwoman. Ex-Weyrwoman. It hurt C'vin to even think of her in that way. They couldn't even move, or didn't want to. Breathing even felt taboo at a time like this, as the Weyrlings waited for...something. Anything.

- - -

Venus moved into the crowd of Candidates as they murmured frantically about the dragon's keening song. "What's happened?" "Did someone.." "Why are they doing that?" "Does anyone know..?"

The raven haired girl kept silent and just listened, trying to piece together the rumors of what might have happened into something believable. Just then, a brownrider hustled into the barrack and asked for everyone's attention.

The Weyrwoman Shmee and Aslath have passed? Why don't they know how? Venus was shocked. Her expression looked concerned and her eyes were wide as she looked at the brownrider. She instinctively glanced out the nearest window, as if the culprit or cause would reveal itself that instant. An almost inaudible whimper came from Venus' lips, and she retreated to the seating area in the common room to get away from the buzzing crowd. She crossed her legs beneath her on top of the couch, and clasped her hands together nervously. How long would it take for word to get around the entire Weyr? Would they just be sitting here for hours before they got a definite answer? Venus thought to herself, rather frustrated and anxious as she looked around the room at everyone.

[ladybug]

Burena had been walking to the dining hall for her normal dinner when the keen rang out. The sound shot straight to her heart, making it drop somewhere to the vicinity of her toes. Gasping, she looked up just in time to see the golden Queen vanish between. Somehow, Burena knew she wasn't coming back, and her suspicions were confirmed when the rest of the dragons voiced their mourning chorus.

In shock and disbelief, she ran the rest of the way to the dining hall, pushing her way through the crowd to see what had happened. She caught a glimpse of Shmee slumped over on the table, looking like she was asleep, but she knew that wasn't true. With a strangled sob, Burena turned away. She didn't want to see anymore. For once, the lighthearted girl was all seriousness as she searched the dining hall for a quiet place to be with her feelings. Whirling around, she began the process of elbowing her way back outside. She wanted to get back to the candidate barracks.

Recognizing a distressed draconic voice, she spotted Val on Dorava'a shoulder, acting as loud as he ever had. "It's too late," Burena told the greenrider dully, guessing that she was here as a Healer.

[Rei]

Danar open his mouth to speak after T’kal’s announcement, only to give a yelp as he felt a whack to his head. Who in the world had the balls to… “Pasine?” He queried adopting a confused expression as she berated him and then tugged him away from the crowd. He nodded at her statement about finding Shmee. Even if it was to late, she had been a symbol for the entire weyr. Her and Aslath were like the heart of some great beast and without them the weyr was going to take a huge hit.

He made his way to the boats and gestured for the other two to enter the craft. Once everyone was seated he picked up the oars for once silent and thoughtful as he rowed the small craft. At first the candidate was confused as to what direction to take but the dragons in the sky were all heading to one point in particular, the dinning hall. He turned the craft in that direction and quickened his pace making it to the dinning hall in record time.

Grounding the boat he stuck his hand out to Pasine and pulled her close into a tight embrace. “No matter what we find darling, I will be here for you.” He mumbled to her and released her, keeping a tight grip on her hand. Danar turned to face the dining hall. It felt as if they were on the verge of a turning point in their lives. Whether good or bad, it was still undecided.

-----

Kaaoloth alighted next to Ismaroth and rumbled a greeting to the other brown. Mine was worried about yours. Is he okay? The large brown asked the other dragon eyes betraying a slight edge of concern through the sadness. He crouched to allow Sel’n to dismount, the other rider not pausing as he strode into the building, shoving his way through the crowd, Vanity hissing and displaying at people as he passed.

He stopped at the forefront of the crowd looking first to Shmee and then to E’rro. He vaguely listened to T’rid yelled to the crowd. Keeping a rein on Vanity, although there was really no need, at the sight of Shmee’s dead form, the little mandyr skittered down her bonded to dive into his sling.

Sel’n cleared his throat and turned to the crowd. “You heard the Weyrleader! Get back, you can all wait outside if you are not healers. You can’t do anything to help here. So get back to your dragons and help spread the word to the rest of the weyr. Keep an eye out in case Benden tries to attack. You can be sure their dragons also know of Aslath‘s passing.” He spoke in a authoritative tone. Well used to commanding his own wing at Fort. Chaos required force. Give the weyr something to do. He gestured to the door and Kaaoloth roared from outside to further punctuate his bonded’s cry.

[Tashe]

Raising an eyebrow slightly as T'rid waved vaguely in the ex-Weyrwoman's general direction and told him to look around, E'rro inclined his head before turning to Shmee once more. There were three ways to poison someone effectively, inhalation, injection and ingestion. Being as the air in the Dining hall was clean, and that there was was no visible trace of powder under her nose or around her mouth, whatever had killed her hadn't been inhaled. Now the other two ways would be harder to disprove. Needlethorn left a small round puncture in the skin, but finding the site of entry was usually a long and arduous task, needing a healer or two to comb over the body. It would be like trying to find a needle in a hay stack. And for ingesting poison... there wasn't a true surefire way to confirm it, the detection methods were dodgy and it usually depended on what the person had been eating or drinking.

Moving Shmee so that she no longer slumped over, the Brownrider sighed before inspecting her neck. Taking a knee a moment later so that he could view the Weyrwoman's arm at a better angle, E'rro unbuttoned the cuff of her sleeve before rolling it up to her shoulder. If Shmee had been alive, the Brownrider would have hesitated in touching her or would have started to look else where. But for some reason, he could calmly deal with touching another human if they were dead or unconscious. Gently turning the woman's arm, E'rro recovered it before moving to her other arm, founding nothing on either to support injection... but there were far more places one could stick a needle.

Crouching quietly beside the chair, the ex-Benden rider rubbed his temples, trying to think through the babbling and shouting in the background. If it wasn't inhalation, and checking the body would take to long to do if not in the infirmary then... Immediately jumping to his feet, E'rro directed his attention onto the wine bottle and cup. "I need another healer... and I need fire."


Shuffling his wings as Kaaoloth landed next to him, Ismaroth swung his head toward the older Brown. /Ermine is fine... I worry for him though./ Shifting his gaze to the walls of the Mainhall, the male huffed through his nose before continuing. /Yours was worried about Mine?/

----

Of course the Dragons had the right to sing for the lost Queen, she wasn't that insensitive, he had misunderstood her. But it was a topic that needed to be dropped, for the next to come up was more important, ruffling her wings in agitation. /If Kaeganmine had been in a position I had deemed unworthy, I would not have sought you out. She is in the infirmary. She slipped and cut her arm earlier, and was still there when Aslath betweened./

Lashing her tail as Corinth spoke to her about Ismaroth, Millieth fidgeted as she tried to remember all she could about the Brown and his Rider. /Ismaroth and His didn't defect from Benden. Styth's knocked Ismaroth's out during Benden's attempt to Dominate Selenitas, and he's been here ever since./ She paused for a moment. /They were part of the Benden Weyrling wing... and... he's a healer. But, Kaemine doesn't have any memories of bad reports about him, except that he's rather anti-social./ The Gold paused once again as she tried to dig up more information from her mind and Kaegan's. /That is all I know. But if I remember corretly... he resides in your Wing./

[antinanco]

Pasine hopped into the boat and sat next to Lanthos, since Danar had already taken the helm. It was a relatively quiet journey, something she was immensely thankful for. She doubted any of them could make proper conversation without being awkward right now, herself included.

Actually, the female Candidate of the trio was relieved that she didn’t have to paddle, though she’d never admit it in front of Danar. She wasn’t the greatest boater in the first place, and as hard as she compressed her hands between her thighs they were still shaking from residual shock, sadness and anger. It took a lot of willpower not to begin crying again, adding her tears to the flowing river. Again she was thankful, this time at her parents for giving her such watery eyes, otherwise someone might’ve noticed how especially moist they were currently.

Her hand stopped shaking, however, as Danar grasped it, tugging her into an enveloping embrace. At first she tensed, not comprehending what was happening. But then she slumped into his arms and griped at his shirt, burying her head in his chest. “She’s dead,” was the simple reply. She wasn’t worried about him being there for her now. But would he be there for her a fortnight from now? A turn? A decade? Obviously his loyalties would only stray in death, that she knew for certain, but if the Weyrwoman of all people could be taken just like that, why not one lowly Candidate?

Then she was suddenly released. Pasine murmured a small apology to Lanthos, almost having forgotten he was there. All the chaos and the nearly instantaneous switching of emotions was making her head swim. She turned to the Dining Hall as well and surged forward, hand still entwined with Danar’s.

But their passage ended at the Hallway as they encountered a blockade of Weyrfolk. Pasine stood on her tippy-toes trying desperately to see at least the entrance to the Dining Hall, but to no avail. Either she was too short or the crowd was too big. Sighing with disappointment, the Candidate leant against a wall and gave up. Though the idea of doing that so easily, especially for Shmee, brought another round of salty tears boiling to the surface, anything bigger than a ‘mandyr wasn’t getting through that pack of people. Oh! Wait a minute!

Pasine turned to Lanthos, eyeing his blue salamandyr. “Ah,” she faltered right away, knowing his face but not his name, “Do you think you could send your ‘mandyr in there and see what’s going on? They can between, or scuttle or something, right?” Not her most elegant request, but it was something. She pointed at Pep, and then past the crowd to empathize her poorly presented point.

[/font]

[dragon]

As things started to back of and clear out a little bit, Dorava managed to finish shoving her way through to the front, with barely more than a nod to Burena. She knew Shmee was dead ... or had at least suspected it. The way the Queen had vanished like she had ... she'd just been in denial up until that point.

As she broke free of the crowd, Dorava hurried forward, even as Val slithered down her shoulder to hide in her shirt again. "I'm here." She said, coming to a stop next to E'rro. Hearing his request, she started moving again. Off to the kitchens ... she found something to catch on fire - a small torch that was used to rekindle one hearth from another one that was running already ... she carried that carefully back to where Shmee was slumped.

Dorava tried very hard to not let the sight of Shmee's dead form disturb her overly much ... she set herself firmly in the mind set that this was just a dead person ... not Shmee. Shmee ... if she thought of the body as Shmee ... she risked running into a wall of tears and fear again. But ... so long as she stayed busy and focused, she'd be alright.

"Here's the fire." She said, calmly, to E'rro. "What do you need me to do?" She asked, as the light from the flames flickered and bounced, casting strange shadows everywhere that wouldn't sit still.

~~~

At the orders from T'rid, E'yan turned and started shepherding people back out of the area, and back down the stairs. "Just go and return to what you were doing. As soon as we know what's going on ... an announcement will be made." He wasn't entirely sure about that, but ... it was something good to say to get people to calm down and back off. That tast accomplished, the sturdy bluerider stationed himself by the door on the outside. He could see what was going on inside, and hear, as well - but he was neither in the way, and could also keep non essential personnel out of the area.

Useful ... something the Weyr needed at the moment. Useful. Not flighty, not panic, not hysteria. Focused, and useful. Progress.

And the whole time, he kept a suspicious eye on E'rro.

[hseru]

It was a bit uncomfortable in the boat, not because of the boat itself, but Lanthos had the distinct impression of being that odd third person out. He wasn't usually so untoward, but the night's events and the unusual sensation of the dragons' deathsong had left him feeling out of sorts. Off balance almost. On the other hand, he was grateful to the girl for including him in their voyage to find the core of confusion. Maybe it wasn't the best idea, as they were only candidates, but he felt like he needed to do something. Pep peeked out of his shirt when he felt the motion of His change from steady steps to the flowing roll of the river, his eyes fading from color to color as his feelings about the events changed one after another. Why? Whywhy Lanos. Lanos going? Lanthos reached up to lay a hand on the mandyr, an attempt to still his questions.

He tried to take his turn at the paddle, reaching out and glancing meaningfully at the oar in Danar's hands. He didn't quite trust his voice to hold steady enough to actually ask the simple question. They had arrived too soon though, and he felt useless all over again.

He subtly turned away from the two as they embraced, trying to give them some sense of privacy while still sitting in the small boat, even though it was probably a meaningless gesture. Pasine's apology was accepted with a brief nod and a small smile laced with an attempt to look understanding. He stepped out of the boat after them.

The mass of confused and frightened weyrfolk blocking the doorway to the dining hall showed them an end to their journey and the whereabouts of their objective. Already, riders from within were shouting for everyone to disperse and return to their work. The compulsion to obey was deeply ingrained, but they were slow to move, and it would likely be several more minutes before the way was clear enough for anyone to pass or leave with ease.

Pasine's question caught Lanthos by surprise, and he blinked, silent for a second before snagging the little blue mandyr from his collar and holding him up for inspection. "Pep? I don't know if I can make him do anything. He's.. well, for lack of a better word, lazy." As if to emphasize his point, the little blue mandyr didn't struggle in the boy's grip, but just hung limp, watching everything with fading eyes. "I can try though. It's about time he did something useful." His poor attempt at levity fell rather flat, and he inched closer to the wall next to the door instead of continuing the attempt.

"Pep listen. I want you to go inside the dining hall. You know what that is? There, past all the people." Lanthos turned the mandyr so he could see the door. A change of eye color from blue to light green noted some acceptance in the little creature. "Can you go inside and look around? I'll give you the best cuts of meat from my breakfast tomorrow if you do." Lanthos had no idea if Pep even knew what he was talking about, but a slight flutter at the word 'meat' exhibited an understanding of -something-.

Lanthos turned to Pasine with a small shrug. "I don't know if he'll even be able to communicate what he saw when he gets back, if he goes in the first place. He's still really young." Pep squirmed a bit in his hands, showing some life as he wrapped his tail around Lanthos' wrist. Gogo. Gohigh Lanos. Meatmeatgoodmeathigh. Gogo. GoLanosgoLanos. GohighgoGO!

Lanthos suddenly realized what the little blue wanted, and raised his hands up high overhead. His height already afforded him a good view over the heads of many, so the several more feet his arms added created a good place for Pep to jump from. The candidate suddenly regretted his move, however, as Pep launched himself on wings too small to land his bulk safely on the other side, and he began leaping from head to head to get free of the crowd, causing many to yelp out in surprise. Pep disappeared into the doorway, slipping past the riders guarding there and slinking safely to the inside corner of the open door, hiding there.

[Avu]

Everyone was gathering, and not many people were listening. T'rid hissed quietly, forcing the shock away to deal with this new, unanticipated problem: The people. The Drudges, the Weyrfolk, were all right; they were obediently backing away, but the dragonfolk were not being nearly as cooperative as T'rid would have hoped. Shells, what was their problem? Couldn't they just shut up and wait? It wasn't like how close they got to the scene of death affected the amount of news they got. Actually, T'rid was hoping to leave that up to their Wingleaders. It was much easier to just tell those select few, higher-ranking riders and let them choose what their wing knew. Simple and effective, and panicking wasn't going to help at all. His head was starting to ache, from Corinth's anxiety, his own stress, and Stupid's shrill chatter in the back of his mind - and of course, the babbling of what seemed to be the entire Weyr, pressing and swarming at the double doors of the Main Hall.

The Weyrleader's lip lifted in a silent snarl as Sel'n repeated his orders. He had bellowed quite loud enough, thank you. There had been complaints about him, but never had anybody ever said he hadn't spoken loudly enough. Quite the opposite was the usual, and T'rid didn't need an echo. The actual words, though, made the Weyrleader lift his eyebrow as he ran both hands through his hair, gritting his teeth slightly. The nerve of the brownrider, telling everyone who wasn't a healer to get out when he himself was far from it. E'rro was a healer, and - the bronzerider twitched slightly as E'rro's demand for another healer and fire, but fortunately, Dorava showed up and took over for him. That duty dismissed, T'rid threw Dorava a grateful look, making a mental note to thank her later - or at least, get Corinth to tell Aonith to thank her for him, and then moved swiftly to the side to Sel'n, leaning towards the man to mutter, "That would include you, too, you know. So, please." He jerked his thumb at the door pointedly, one eyebrow arching expectantly. "Or - help the bluerider, over there," and he gestured at E'yan.

At least herding Weyrfolk was somewhat useful. The level of noise that shrilled around the Hall died down faintly, and T'rid rubbed his temples, exhaling in relief as he spun back towards E'rro and Dorava as the latter brought back a torch from one of the walls - it probably wasn't the most desired form of fire, being prone to fits and spurts, but it was the closest thing. So that was okay. T'rid made his way carefully towards the ex-goldrider's form, and, avoiding looking directly at her face, swept his gaze briefly over her - some poisons left - left traces, didn't they? - but she looked utterly untouched, as if she was simply sleeping...tearing his gaze away from her, the bronzerider sighed audibly, running his hand through his hair impatiently to push it away from his eyes. It was an old habit, one that he tried to stop, but when his hair fell so insistently across the hazel eyes...then it became almost instinct. Frowning slightly, something close to pity flashed over him.

S'rei? The bronzerider was sick, wasn't he? Sick enough, at Aslath's last Flight, that Salenth hadn't been able to Chase - or hadn't wanted to, or something; he couldn't quite recall. Nevertheless...he was without a weyrmate now. Just everything seemed to happen to the poor man, didn't it...? His train of thought was interrupted as Corinth burst in on his thoughts, sounding distinctly agitated. Mine. Millieth says that Ismaroth's comes from Benden, and he came unwillingly during the attack on Selenitas previously. Just...just watch out. T'rid stared at E'rro, and then took a few swift steps back. He knew nothing about healing, and he didn't want to come across as hovering over Shmee anyway. She was dead, and no amount of tears would bring her back. He could wait. He'd be the first to get a report anyway, he consoled himself absently, crossing his arms across his chest and watching E'rro intently through slightly narrowed eyes.

He'd ask questions later.


Yes. Corinth probably would have taken it for granted that Millieth had not left her Rider anywhere undesirable, but this was a time of panic, of stress and terror and heartbreak, and added to that mix, even a dragon could loose some usually common sense. The bronze shifted uncomfortably, nodding slightly. The healers, yes...they would take care of the new Senior Weyrwoman. Nobody would be willing to take a risk, not so soon after Shmee had...had died, and Aslath had followed Hers between. No...she would be fine. Corinth hoped so, in any case, and though he convinced himself of it, the agitated hues still swam in his jewel-faceted eyes. He didn't comment, and kept silent as Millieth went on about Ismaroth and His.

He wasn't familiar with Ismaroth. Yes, he was on the bronze's wing, but Corinth commented softly, almost to himself, There are things one doesn't tell a Wingleader. Besides, he couldn't remember them - it was T'rid who made the notes on the wing and anything that might affect their performance, and generally speaking, none of the Wingriders bothered telling them just because they felt like it - they only reported what might seriously affect wing performance, and that was just fine by T'rid and Corinth - until now. I'm letting Mine know about...about Ismaroth's, nonetheless... The bronze's gleaming eyes flicked across the Weyr, anxiety tinging the shock as he contacted His, briefly reported, unable to keep the anxiousness for His out of his tones before he turned back to Millieth. I suppose...all we can do is wait, now?

[kysseh]

"Let me through."

One of the weyrfolk looked like they might have considered backtalking the vertically-challenged woman that was elbowing her way through the crowd that was trickling out of the main hall, but the person wisely seemed to think better of it. Lucky for them, indeed, for Savitri was in no mood to be delayed or deterred. She had heard the deathsong the dragons had uttered, and her heart had nearly frozen with fear at the realization of just which dragon had gone between. Aslath. Aslath meant Shmee was gone. Senior queen and senior gold.... just... gone. Hepaticath had keened horribly, perched on her ledge and calling her grief to the skies until Savitri's own emotions, which had been magnifying the young queen's reaction, came under control. Now was not the time for hysterics. She needed to get to the bottom of this.

After sending her grieving mindmate to check on the weyrlings--a bit of a ruse on Savitri's part, since it would keep Hepaticath adequately distracted--Savitri had quickly compartmentalized her emotions and gotten over her initial panic, though she was sure the fear showed in her eyes. Fear of attack... fear of her own demise and Hepaticath's. Those feelings could be left for a time when there was time, and she left for the main hall in a hurry, her healer's bag draped over her shoulder as she made her way down to the boats, her direction focused by the mind-images her little pet was sending her. Hepaticath was just too large to land on the main platform and so could not take her to the site of the incident, and Savitri had taken the opportunity to take her frustration and over-excited energy out on the water, rowing with such ferocity that she knew she would hurt tomorrow. So be it. She needed to know where Shmee's... remains... were... and what had happened.

Now she was shoving her way through a growing crowd, hampered by her lack of stature and the fact that she was going against the pattern of the rest of the crowd's movement. There were riders near the door, and she merely raised one hand to point at her shoulderknots. Healer. Goldrider. She would have taken the time to be diplomatic and polite, but there just was not the time now, not until she was sure they were not all in imminent danger of dying. Her pitiful attempt at walling off her emotions was nearly undone when she finally gained entry and saw the former weyrwoman just... there. There were others present, and she recognized the weyrleader in her peripheral vision. After a brief handful of seconds to get her anxiety under control, she swallowed and moved closer.

"What do you know so far?" she asked, forgoing the ridiculous 'what happened?' question. Obviously, the weyrwoman had died. Also obviously, she did not seem to be bleeding from any major injuries. Natural death? The young woman doubted it. Not like this. It didn't seem reasonable...


Hepaticath, even in her grief, was aware of what Hers was thinking. The young queen tried to remain on an even keel, though, simply letting out soft moans of grief as she settled herself on the grounds outside the weyrling barracks. She was far too large to enter, but that did not stop her from sitting beside the entrance as if she owned it. Grief was quickly being replaced by a powerful protective instinct, and the mere thought of someone bringing harm to her weyr and the weyrlings in it... no, that was thoroughly unacceptable. Thus, the queen sat and crooned at the weyrlings inside, eyes whirling a pale gray interspersed with yellow as she watched the ground, the skies. Is everyone all right? No one.... else... is hurt? she inquired of the young dragons, not bothering to speak to Theirs. She did not speak often to those not-Hers.

[Rowana]

T'ke blinked at Ke'rin and his mind slowly returned to reality; sharp, painful reality. He nodded at his roommates suggestion. "I'll come." he said softly. Talking seemed even harder than usually, but at least but checking the others they would be doing something. Anything rather than dwell on the empty feeling that seemed to emanate from the entirely Weyr. T'ke stood and Garaeth hugged close to his side, as if by touching his rider he could assure him that he was still here. The blue dragon was unusually silent and for once T'ke wished for his cheerful voice to break the quiet.

~

It took Ruskeath and Jarcith more time than they would have liked to reach the Weyrling Barracks. The skies were crowded with dragons searching or simply crying out their distress. Finally, then landed outside and G'tor and Wynmuri ran quickly inside. The two dragons took up guard positions outside the entrance. Anyone daring to approach would have to deal with them first. They bowed respectively to Hepaticath, who was their queen even if she was much younger. They would guard both her and the young ones with their lives if need be.

When the two rider's reached the common room, G'tor and Wyn split up wordlessly, each heading for the boys and girls rooms respectively. As long as the stayed inside, the young riders should be safe. They just need to account for each one and be sure no one was missing. Wyn reached the room occupied by Saeo and Raylin first. She tapped lightly on the door, hoping the youngsters wouldn't be too frightened by her arrival.

"I'm Wynmuri of green Jarcith," she called, in a much kinder tone than she normally used. "Is everyone alright?"

G'tor reached C'oar and N'lai's room first. He too knocked on the door and called to the boys he hoped were still safely inside. "It's G'tor, are you two alright?"

[archenstone]

X'vier had been flying rounds when suddenly he felt Mirazeth take him Between.

Three heart stopping moments later he saw they where above a Weyr in pandemonium...their Weyr. Mirazeth! By the first Egg what where you thinking by blinking us between like that? The death song could be heard even up here and he shuddered. Whose death Mirazeth? He spoke quieter.

Mirazeth trembled as he glided in to land. He warbled high and low with the others. Aslath! Aslath! Our Queen....she's gone!As he landed he felt his rider slide off and move to embrace what he could of Mirazeth. Between...[/b]He said softly as he keened.

X'vier felt hot tears run down his face. How could this happen? Why did Schmee have to be the one always getting targeted for things? What where they going to do? The thoughts raced through his head as he held Mirazeth. "Mirazeth love....will you be okay as I see what happened?" He pressed his head against Mirazeth for a moment longer as the tears came freely. He had liked the Weyrwoman.

After a few too-short moments had passed X'vier wiped his eyes and began walking swiftly to the main hall. It seemed everyone had crammed in to one area. He moved to where everyone was and saw her. Shes...really gone. He felt stunned, grieved and outraged. Who would dare harm her? He looked at those there....T'rid and a Healer and E'rro. He watched silently for a moment before stepping forward. "If there is anything I may do to help. Let me know..." He spoke quietly.