this beautiful storm [open]

[Avu]

It was an ugly day. There was no other way to describe it. No rain, but the dark, heavy clouds that hung across the sky rumbled menacingly, promising in due time that it would, indeed, fall. It was uncommonly cold for the south, and the wind that cut through the Weyr made it seem even colder. In short, it was a good day to sleep in and that was exactly how Ahth was spending it. The dark, serpentine form was coiled up tightly on the dragon couch, his tail covering his nose and both wings drawn forward to cover his head to block out the sound of the wind and thunder; it was not something he wanted to hear. The speck of green curled on his forearm marked that Sylph had decided that Ahth’s idea of a good day appealed to her very much, too. Both of the draconic creatures were fast asleep. They had to be; it was the only way either of them would have not noticed that the weyr, save for themselves, was empty – their Bonded had decided it was a good day to run away, apparently.

The stretch of beach he’d chosen was empty of the moment, and it looked dreary. Extremely so. The waves that licked against the shore were not pleasant, cheerful, inviting ones. But the waves were ignored; the location had been chosen by R’ahre on purpose – because of the rocks that stretched into the sea, ending a distance out – relatively deep, too deep to touch bottom, certainly. The rocks were piled up, just above sea-level when the waters were as high as they were that day, perhaps four feet across; it looked as if some dragon had, someday, bored, started building a bridge to the North and had gotten bored after getting a dragonlength in. It was this rock that R’ahre studied curiously, standing a few feet away from it. He was barefoot, hair pulled back into a runnertail to keep it from whipping into his face (first attempt had been without the latter and it had been absolutely impossible), wearing a long-sleeved shirt and long pants to accommodate for the chill of approaching winter.

Both arms came up silently to his face so R’ahre could exhale against his fingers; he’d become accustomed to the warmth of the South, even discarding of most of his clothes to compensate for the heat, and it was actually surprising that it was…cold. Even vaguely so.

He wasn’t exactly sure why he’d come out here, except that he liked this weather in a twisted, perverted kind of way, and he wanted to get out – out of the Weyr. R’ahre had skipped the Gather; it hadn’t appealed to him in the least. Bare feet scuffed lightly at the sand as he half-jumped and half-stepped onto the first mossy rock. His toes curled automatically against the cold, rough surface underfoot before R’ahre tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing as he studied the path before him, before he started forward, out on the path of rocks towards the sea. His pace wasn’t slow by any definition of the word; R’ahre was generally overly confident in that he never expected himself to fall, but he wasn’t going fast, either; his mind wasn’t focused entirely on the treacherous path. His arms lifted slightly off of his sides to keep his balance as one foot slid slightly across the moss; the spray of saltwater dampened his feet and the hem of his pants, peppering his shirt.

For the moment, R’ahre was keeping his mind deliberately aloof from Ahth’s or Sylph’s. It went without saying that the blue would be terribly annoyed that he’d come out so far on his own. The blue wasn’t often irritated; his was more of a cold, calm, arrogant condescension – but he was annoyed when His did something so risky and walking out so far on moss-covered, wet rocks certainly fell into such a category. Abruptly one foot slid out from under him; his fall was caught by one palm and R’ahre pushed himself into a sitting position absently, about halfway out. The heel of his palm was scraped, and he absently brushed off the dirt with his other hand before he sucked on it to stop the blood. His legs crossed, his other arm draping across his knee. His head tilted slightly to one side as he focused on the horizon. The damp and cold were very much reminiscent of Benden and he wasn’t quite sure if he hated or loved that.

“Hmm,” he commented out loud, dropping his hand – it felt strange to talk to the wind and the rocks and the sea. Different from talking to Ahth, which he sometimes did out loud too – “I’ve missed the cold…”

[tarra]

What do you think they will do...if they find out?

I don't know. We'll find out if they do.

The chill of the storm struck them as they came from between, sending the lithe blue into a series of loops to find his wings in the driving wind. Jaws parted, grinning as his tail flicked for blance, he began the descent through the smouldering clouds. His rider crouched low over his withers, her frame streamlined with her dragon' against the blustery gales. Two loose sacks flapped at her knees, and with a flash of teeth she ripped them away, sending them drifting into the rumbling sky. Empty firestone sacks were useless in a storm - dangerous even, when they created drag from wind-shear and unbalanced a dragon's course. With a snort that blew tendrils of mist into the wind, the blue drew his wings back fully, a brief touch to his rider's mind his only warning before he went into a stoop.

Katar thrust her body forward with him, an instinctive action, and with coordination born of long habit they fell from the sky together into a near-vertical stoop. The ground rushed at them; the wind tore back the cloth covering her lower face. With a wild grin she let it fly back and away, lost on the wind in their wake. The streaming clouds gave before them, giving them their first glimpse of the restless, roving sea beneath. It was a storm-cast day to anyone on the ground, and a wild wind-tossed one for anyone in flight.

But then, that was what made it fun.

Finally, as the edges of waves began to define themselves to sight, Sonarth edged out his wings and levelled out. Within seconds he was in control once more, angling straight and fast for a series of stones branching out into the surf. In a few more seconds he would have lost enough velocity to look like he could avoid a direct collision with them - and the person perched atop them. Katar blinked as they overflew the rocks with a speed to rival the wind, realised what she had just seen, and clutched at her blue's neckspines even as she caught at his mind.

Wait wait, there was someone...and you knew there was someone!

Yes, laughter tinged the dragon's thoughts - the dive had woken his good humour, I knew. We are going back to find him.

Much slowed, though still moving at a considerable velocity, Sonarth tilted his wings back and his lithe frame curved as he angled his wings for a steep turn, doubling back towards R'ahre's position. His rider scanned the coastline and the looming bulk of mountain not far off, her body leaning with thought into the turn her blue was making. That mountain had to be the Weyr - it was in the same spot it had been when they ran their little scouting expedition two days past. They could always ask - and hope that the strange man would be civil enough to tell them. Just what they would do after that, however, and how they were going to ask acceptance from Selenitas...well, that was yet to come. One thing at a time.

Katar let a long sigh trail into the slowing rush of the wind, her eyes on the stanger, and steeled herself for what was to come.

[Avu]

The words hung in the air before the wind blew them away, and R’ahre crinkled his nose absently; his fingers tapped idly against his chin as he leaned back against a larger rock. It was by no means a comfortable position, but it wasn’t uncomfortable enough to make him want to leave, either. He liked the solitude. Liked it more than being in the Weyr where it seemed that, regardless of where you were, what you were doing, someone was fussing at you. It was even nice that Ahth and Sylph weren’t active in his mind; the muted dreamy feeling he received from both of them was calming. The cold air was nice, too, much better than the stifling heat; the sharpness of it was…better. R’ahre usually hated being near the beach because of the salt literally hanging around in the air, but it was nice today, even down to the icy water occasionally spilling over the rocks and dampening his pants and feet. And –

What was that? Those, to be specific.

R’ahre’s head tilted, eyes narrowing as they focused on…things. Falling from the sky. Confusion flickered across his face; only when he was alone did he not bother to censor his expressions. Firestone bags? Empty, fortunately – or unfortunately; if they were empty, that meant whoever had dropped them had probably ingested the firestone. Either that, or he’d just mistaken something else for the bags that were used so commonly in Weyrling Lessons, but he doubted it. What other bags would be falling from the sky, really? One hand reached up to brush his hair out of his eyes where it had fallen (his hair wasn’t long enough to be pulled entirely into a runner-tail), but R’ahre didn’t move, crossing his ankles and draping both arms across his knees. His gaze had lifted from the horizon to the sky now, frozen. Part of him knew that now would be a good time to wake Ahth and call the blue to him – there were people disappearing after all, and he did not plan on becoming one of them – but another part of him wanted to wait, wait and see, the part used to defending himself.

Blue dragon. Going straight towards him. R’ahre didn’t freeze; he’d been knocked around at Benden enough to know that just freezing was a very, very bad idea. The thought process didn’t quite arrange itself till later. The weyrlingrider twisted, half-rising to his feet in the same motion, to put a large rock directly between himself and the blue.

Fire could not go through rock. Teeth could not go through rock. He could still be grabbed, but it didn’t make for instantaneous death, and that was the whole point. R’ahre tilted his head to look back at the blue and felt a slight flare of confusion as the dragon just went…overhead. Was that…? The other disappearances had coincided with instant deaths; the dragons of the Riders who disappeared didn’t expect anything – they just went between and that was it. This was not…right. His mind brushed against Ahth’s; he felt the blue’s mind stir, a questioning touch, before R’ahre stood upright cautiously; his fingers slid casually to hook around the waistband of his pants, left fingers splayed across the hilt of his knife. That he was dominantly left-handed surprised most people, though he could use both hands when it came to knives and the like, which was why there was another tucked into his right boot, but it was still reassuring, to have the one.

She was watching him, and R’ahre stared back, expression unreadable. Ahth. Come to the beach. The words were ‘soft’, but brooked no argument, and he felt the blue’s irritated acquiescence and the flare of invisible wings before he tilted his head to look up at the bluerider who was a…woman. Odd. His eyes narrowed slightly. “Should I be shivering in fear?” he inquired, his voice just loud enough to carry; he didn’t want to get any closer to the blue or his Rider. There was a definite edge to his words nonetheless; R’ahre did not approve in the least of coming so close to an unfamiliar dragon’s claws and teeth. Ahth could get away with something like that with him; Baoth probably could too – the green could get away with a lot with R’ahre; he liked her. The same could not, alas, be said for her Rider. Seth had liked trying to scare him too, when she’d been alive. This strange, potentially deadly blue was not allowed to do such a thing.

“What are you doing here?” He didn’t recognize the blue as being Selenitas, or of Benden.

[tarra]

He had seen them. He had clearly dodged - wisely - behind a rock as Sonarth skimmed by, and now as they began the descent towards the stones he emerged to stand, watching them. Katar reached a hand to push up her goggles for a better view, and the driving wind made her eyes water a moment before it weakened with their lessening speed. Keeping her eyes on the stranger, she reached for her dragon's mind.

We should speak to him; he'll know about this place, and can help us.

Or hinder us. He could be a bronzerider.

And I must be the Weyrleader of Fort. We'll speak to Selenitas riders eventually, anyhow. We can start here.

Her blue's jaws parted in agreement as he angled straight for the young man by the sea. His wings drew up, ever so slightly, reducing speed further against the bracing wind. The ground loomed beneath them, and the scrubbing clouds fell away behind as the roar of surf began to drown out the whine of the wind. As the smell of sea spray covered them, Katar softened her hands on the blue's neckspines and let her right hand wander over her belt. A sharp tug loosened the belt-knife in its scabberd - a simple pull would bring it out now, though the bluerider refrained from doing so. The knife would only come into use if they were attacked; they hardly wanted to jeopardize their chances by playing the aggressor in any way. With a final upthrust of wings, Sonarth brought himself to a stall and dropped the last two feet or so to the ground, a scant dragonlength from where R'ahre stood.

Katar cocked her head at the man, her brown eyes quiet and unreadable as she took in his features. He was young, about her own age, and decidedly on the tall side. Stern black locks framed a long, thin face as expressive as the stone he stood upon. He was not afraid of her and Sonarth - or if he was, he did not show it. And, most importantly, his hands were lingering idly around his belt area. That in itself said something; this was no unnerved holder to be chivved and chased. He was used to dragons, knew how to behave around them; and to her mind, very likely to be a member of the Weyr they were seeking. He spoke just then.

“Should I be shivering in fear?”

Again, there was an edge to his voice that suggested challenge more than trepidation. The bluerider's lips pursed into a thin smile as she replied.

"Not unless you intend us harm."

Her voice held a hint of warning, more to give weight to it than to threaten. Sonarth raised his muzzle at her words, his gaze on the distant mountain and the sky above them, then lowered it again as his thoughts entered hers.

He is a rider - he smells of dragons.

What's he doing alone here, then?

How should I know? He might have called his dragon, but I see nothing.

Nothing yet, she thought grimly, the brows hardening over her eyes. She was about to ask his name when he spoke again.

“What are you doing here?”

She chuckled, "Well, that's my business unless you're somehow linked to Selenitas Weyr . Which I believe you are."

She eyed him a moment longer, a moment in which Sonarth shifted his feet and shuffled his wings. All idle movements to the casual observer; but the blue was now standing with the wind directly in his face. A quick snap of wings, a leap and he would be off with the wind blowing him backwards whilst his talons dealt with anything coming from in front. His roving gaze kept close watch on their surroundings, even as Katar kept her attention on the man before them. She spoke.

"Here: I'll give you my name and you can give me yours. I'm Katar, and this is Sonarth. Who are you?"

[Avu]

So now he was supposed to try and attack a mounted dragonrider? Landed or not (and R’ahre didn’t feel much safer with Sonarth landed; the blue still posed a very real threat) there was no way that he could honestly intend to leap onto the blue and kill his Rider without being completely suicidal. Which he wasn’t. Coming out to the sea and scrambling over slippery, moss-covered rocks alone might qualify as crazy, but R’ahre wasn’t that, either – he was just arrogant enough to assume he wouldn’t fall, wouldn’t need rescuing. The same could not be said for trying to harm either the dragon or his Rider. He wasn’t stupid. The weyrlingrider tilted his head to one side; both eyebrows rose, making his opinion on the matter clear, if she’d bothered to look. They were the ones who dove at him, after all. His gaze flicked idly to Sonarth himself, watching in silence as the blue raised his muzzle; a swift mental order was delivered to Ahth. Stay out of sight.

Ahth was not as…vibrantly colored as this blue was, not by far; his blue was dark enough to pass for black, large enough to look like a brown, but he was young. Very young, definitely not as experienced as this blue was, if his shifting around was any example. Stay out of sight now, come in when he was needed, though had he been flying in, he would have had the instant advantage of altitude.

The suggestion as to which Weyr he was from elicited no answer from R’ahre whatsoever. His face remained deadpan, his gaze cold; she hadn’t phrased it as a question and he felt absolutely no inclination to tell her. Selenitas was home now, yes, but she didn’t need to know that. Not really. As far as R’ahre was concerned, she could go her entire life without knowing that – and make all the guesses she wanted. Where else would it be, though…? He wasn’t wearing his knots (R’ahre rarely did; Weyrlings had no rank to throw around, after all, and that was the only reason that anybody wore knots, wasn’t it?) but the fact that he hadn’t screamed like a girl when Sonarth dove at him spoke for itself – he’d obviously been around dragons of some sort before. Admittedly, his appearance practically screamed Nerat – R’ahre resembled his father, the Lord Holder of said Hold, very much – but it wasn’t the North. Even when it was cold, it wasn’t that cold.

Her introduction made him relax – just slightly – as he passed the name to Ahth, more automatically than consciously. The query as to his own name, though, made him shrug before he responded. Very quietly, R’ahre spoke, but he did make sure it was loud enough to carry. Sonarth needed to get no closer to him. “R’ahre. Of Ahth.” He deliberately said nothing about Ahth’s color; if it suited this woman, this Katar, to think he was a bronzerider – so be it. He’d nothing against it. He candidly admitted that bronzes had more power than his Ahth ever would, after all. His head tilted, curious, before he added, “You mentioned Selenitas…?” By now, he was pretty sure she wasn’t Benden. He remembered faces well, even if he hadn’t known many names then, and she…didn’t bring any memories to mind. One finger slipped around the hilt of his knife beneath the hem of his shirt, flipping off the strap that held down the dirk, though his other fingers still remained hooked casually. After all, there was no threat to kill. Yet.

Back at the Weyr, Ahth actively rumbled in irritation. The dark blue dragon flared both wings, and then reached out for the one mind he cared to bespeak: His. I want to come. Why on Pern did you /leave/? MyR’ahre, this is absolutely ridiculous. The words made it clear that he intended to give His a lecture to remember when they were alone, when they weren’t in danger. He was curled on the weyrledge, tail coiled around his haunches, sitting with shoulders hunched and head low, eyes focused in the direction of the sea. He was possessive – he didn’t want any dragon save for himself and possibly Baoth so much as touching His. Not allowed. Might I bespeak him? Do ask for me. Because he really didn’t want the blue twitching and accidentally hurting His. R’ahre’s reflexes were good but better they weren’t even put to use.

A pleasant smile crossed the blank expression, though it had a decidedly malicious edge to it, emphasized by R’ahre’s words. “Ahth wants to know if he can bespeak your dragon without him getting startled and falling into the ocean…” Because they wouldn’t want that. Of course not.

[tarra]

Was he a sentry? A rogue? A rider just taking a stroll - weather nothwithstanding - on the beach? Katar could make little sense of R'ahre's presence alone on the coast; and the more she thought on it the more she was inclined to feel the entire situation was strange. The most likely explanation was that he was a guard, sent to watch the coast and report back on any disturbancese or unwanted activity. But he could just as well be a rogue; or worse, a shady character out to make a shady deal of some sort. It was far-fetched enough that she shrugged the thought away, and watched his response (or lack thereof) at her attempt to ascertain if he was of Selenitas.

“R’ahre. Of Ahth.”

She might have smiled, if the whole thing had been less tense: here was a man who knew his work, a man to be respected even if he annoyed her. A rider he was indeed, as they had surmised, but she rather doubted now that he was a bronzerider. A person of authority would have ordered her down by now, instead of standing around bantering. This was Selenitas, not Fort, and bronzeriders were (usually) more cocky on their own territory.

Unless he were garnering support before doing so.

True.

“Well met, R'ahre - or not,” she replied, brown eyes glinting the barest hint of amusement. She was tiring of this exchange - there so much unneeded secrecy involved - and her usual blunt nature was resurfacing, "At least we can agree on something."

“You mentioned Selenitas…?”

"Aye, Sonarth and me are bound for the Weyr," the dragon twitched his tail at the sound of his name, "If you're part of it, you could tell us, and we'd make things easier by explaining ourselves."

The young man's face changed - a smile broke the stony features, malice tinging its otherwise pleasant nature. Katar ignored it.

“Ahth wants to know if he can bespeak your dragon without him getting startled and falling into the ocean…”

Katar's eyes never lost their glint of mirth, though a brow raised now to emphasize it. Malicious mirth indeed. Well, at least they could now dispense with the pleasentries; the bluerider had never been one for subtle courtesies, anyway. Sonarth snorted amusement to mirror his rider's mood, one dark blue eye transfixing R'ahre as if he were judging the distance between the young man and his talons.

Of course he may - though it is also likely he would be frightened into between forever by the sound of my voice. We should warn him.

She held back a chuckle at her blue's words, which were meant for her alone, and laid a hand on the neckspine before her waist, Easy now, my love. We don't want to anger them just now. We must learn more first, and this lad might be the one to do it. Patience.

"We would be honoured, R'ahre," she said, the blankness of mindspeech fading from her eyes as she turned a cool gaze on the man, "Though I fear your Ahth might be shocked by the sound of Sonarth's voice. I will ask him to speak softly - for his sake. "

[Avu]

Bound for the Weyr, did she have to be? His expression fell back into impassivity, and R’ahre tilted his head slightly. The motion was small enough to go entirely unnoticed, but it was a habit he couldn’t break and he’d stopped trying to. Perhaps it would be rude to spurn her, perhaps even deadly, but he wanted to. Very badly, namely because he didn’t remember her from Benden and that meant she was Fort or High Reaches, neither Weyr of which he was fond. Besides, Benden had an alliance with Selenitas, not Fort, and there was a very good chance she could be a spy, and if she was…then Fort would find out about the alliance if they didn’t know already. Unlikely, that, but a very distinct possibility nonetheless. He didn’t answer immediately, opting to reach for Ahth’s mind, almost in an unconscious wish for reassurance. The blue’s cold practicality wasn’t exactly what he was seeking, but it was what he’d expected and in some ways that was more comforting than a sudden dousing of affection could have been.

The other bluerider went on and her words drew the barest hint of a smile – though it was a very condescending smile; as if anyone could frighten Ahth. Unless she’d just meant that Sonarth was loud. Ahth wasn’t at all; the blue was downright pleasant to most. The silky note in his voice only emerged when he bespoke His or Baoth, and that silkiness would have sent a shiver down R’ahre’s back had it been any but his Own. Darkly condescending, manipulative, far too intelligent, was his Ahth – not easily scared. His gaze flicked from Katar down to Sonarth before he spoke, still staring right at the blue, though his words were meant for the Rider. “Thank you, I’m sure.” The light emphasis on the last word was the only thing that was less than completely polite.

You can bespeak him, Ahth.
I can, can I? A flicker of smugness; R’ahre felt the phantom wind beneath Ahth’s wings and resigned himself to the dragon’s arrival. Still out of sight, he bespoke Sonarth, though; his ‘voice’ was quietly pleasant, almost laid-back, though the words he ‘spoke’ didn’t quite match the tone. You do realize Northern dragons are less than welcome in Selenitas skies? he inquired. Unless you’ve papers for your transfer…

Which Ahth doubted. Benden transfers might have papers due to the alliance; the bronze and green riders that had come did. But non-Benden Riders…? Probably not. Unless they were faked, but surely the Weyrleaders would be able to see if they were. Official seal of the Weyr or whatever had to be on it would be lacking, after all, no? His mind brushed, privately, against R’ahre’s for a moment before he glided silently out of the thick forests; he’d deliberately taken a roundabout way to take up time and to make the direct way to the Weyr harder to pick out. In the distance, he was dark enough and large enough to pass for brown, but as he twisted effortlessly higher, a slim ribbon caught by the wind, the highlights of blue danced across his hide. Still, he made no effort to land, slowing to glide into a slow loop overhead; his eyes glittered in dark shades of blue and green. Pleasant colors, though the darkness of the shades belied that statement; Ahth was just very, very good at pretending.

R’ahre shrugged then, finally responding to Katar’s first question. “As Ahth said. We are.” A slight flick of his head upwards to indicate the large blue, who finally descended to land smoothly on the beach; his wings were snapped shut against his sides elegantly and the dragon settled onto his stomach – he looked relaxed. “And I’ll take you and Sonarth there. Meet me and Ahth in the air. If you must explain, tell me through Ahth.” Some part of him was interested, but the other was simply impatient to get rid of her company. The old, stinging irritation that was associated with anything Fort was rising in his throat. A flick of his hand towards the sky, and then the bluerider turned his back towards Sonarth and started towards Ahth. He didn’t expect to be attacked. He didn’t. Ahth had already landed, which erased the threat to Sonarth himself, and he was, as far as he saw it, their best way into the Weyr. Wouldn’t take away a lot of the suspicion, but it might some if she came in with a Selenitas Rider. It’d be stupid and R’ahre didn’t think Katar was.

She might be. Lots of people are.
Don’t be so encouraging, Ahth.

[tarra]

“Thank you, I’m sure.”

She knew, from that barest of smiles on his features and the soft emphasis of his last word, that her statement had hit its mark. It was all she could do to keep from smiling herself. Had he thought he was the only rider who could imply insult with impunity, and get away with it? Well, let him think again, and consider his words with her. Both Sonarth and her had been less than pleased at being told they might be startled into the sea, and if they repaid in kind they were only giving out what was deserved. A pulse of agreement echoed from her blue's mind into hers, and then she felt him withdraw in the manner characteristic of his being bespoken by another.

Sonarth considered the other dragon's address a moment, sampling the stranger's mindtouch and tone with quiet alacrity. He sounded...genteel, cordial, even if the line of his speech was openly suspicious. If dragons had full facial muscles, the blue would have smiled. Nuance and layering were not new to him: he was a survivor, as his rider was, and knew an insult or a threat even when it was veiled. Knew too, the difference between threat and warning, but did not bother to probe too deeply now. There would be time for that later. The touch of Sonarth's mind, as he turned his gaze in the general direction of the mountain to reply, was nothing short of electric. Fresh from Threadfall, alert with the knowledge that they were attempting something potentially dangerous, he was in one of his sharper moods. His mindtouch, should Ahth have bespoken him in any other instance, would have felt like nothing more than mellow broodingness; they felt now like the spark of glancing lightning.

Greetings, Ahth, let the other dragon know he was being far less than polite with his curtness; a little courtesy never hurt now, did it? Yes, we are aware of that. That is why we have come openly, declaring our intent. We come in peace, not in war. As to papers, would the South even consider a transfer? Perhaps you could enlighten me on that.

His eyes, as he mindspoke, caught sight of the high, dark shape making its way towards them, and a light touch brought his rider's face around for a glance as well. Her first impression was that Ahth was indeed brown, and unconciously she was gratified again that her guess had been right: R'ahre was not a bronzerider, though he might ride a color of higher station than her. She had turned back to the man before him when Sonarth's mind tapped into hers.

He is blue - his hide flashes where the light catches it.

Oh? He is hard to discern from a distance. Like rider, like dragon - they are not easy to read.

No more than we are.

Yes, Katar rubbed one finger lovingly down the neckspine in front of her, and raised her head a moment to nod at the dragon now making a lazy loop over their heads. She felt the muscles brace beneath her, and knew that Sonarth would not be idle should the strange blue choose to make a dive at them.

“As Ahth said. We are.”

She made no reply as the dragon above them came in to land - there was no need to. She had been following her mindmate's conversation with the Selenitas blue, and knew as well as anyone that a Northern dragon would not have said what Ahth had to Sonarth. Their story matched up...unless the pair had meant to deceive them. She would not rule out that possibility: the rumour in Fort was that Benden had recently allied with Selenitas; and if this pair happened to be of Benden, well, Katar would make sure they understood pain before Sonarth and her were taken.

It was then, watching the strange blue, that a moment of realisation crossed her mind and startled her. It was echoed a second later by her dragon's thoughts.

Yes - he is a weyrling. He has not quite filled out yet.

How interesting, there was no denying the gangliness that usually marked a growing dragon: this blue's wings, in particular, were vastly large for his body. A weyrling, alone on the coast and quite apart from his dragon. Odd habits these Southerners had. Sonarth coughed a greeting and backed up a step as Ahth landed, giving the younger blue the space he might need to touch down without hitting anyone by accident. To the amusement of the ex-Fort rider, he proceeded down onto his stomach on the beach, looking for all the world like a dragon out for a picnic stroll and not a possible confrontation with an enemy. Were he of Fort or Benden, the move might have cost him dear. Katar turned back to R'ahre as he spoke again.

“And I’ll take you and Sonarth there. Meet me and Ahth in the air. If you must explain, tell me through Ahth.”

The experience of a weyrling and the arrogance of a bronzer, the bluerider mused to her dragon as they watched R'ahre turn his back on them to go to Ahth, Maybe he feels his dragon is watching his back, but he would likely last five seconds in Fort.

Three. Yet for a weyrling that dragon is surprisingly subtle. He will be one to watch, Sonarth backed up even more to give Ahth space for take-off. Katar did not bother to give the weyrling the satisfaction of an answer. Let him think she was a good little girl and would go through his dragon as he had requested. And since he seemed to feel it was an obligation for him to hear them out, she could withhold on her explanation as well. Male riders, in her opinion, were all alike when it came to dealing with the likes of her - he would probably twist anything they said and send it flying across the Weyr in a hundred different directions. The less said between them the better.

We should tell him something, still. He will have to report to his leaders.

Aye, he'll give them a biased report. He can just assume we have some business at Selenitas since we're going there. Let him ask if he must know more.

There is no need to be rude, the blue said mildly, He is bringing us in, after all. Nonetheless, I think you are right about the rumours. Let him ask as much as he needs.

The lighter-shaded blue inclined his head to watch R'ahre mount. But one eye stayed always on the distant mountain, with the open sky in its peripherals. Ever the courteous one, he inclined his muzzle to Ahth; giving him, as the host, the right of way into the sky, We thank you for your assistance. After you.

[Avu]

((OoC: Selenitas isn’t in a mountain, just so you know: omgaweyr.proboards.com/index.cgi?board=history&action=display&thread=3971 ))

There are exceptions to every rule. Ahth kept his voice light, pleasant; his claws were shoved idly into the sand like a young child digging. His muzzle lowered to nose at the pile of sand that was being created; he knew his youth was obvious and he was actually doing his best to emphasize that lack of experience. If this blue, this Sonarth whose voice was so invasive, thought him to be not a threat, then all the better. No, he didn’t know how to fight but R’ahre did and Ahth was graceful and coordinated enough that he was sure it wouldn’t be too difficult. However casually he was shifting the sand around, however, the youthful display was somewhat marred by his claws; long, dark, curved: Dangerous. His evasive words were exactly that, though – evasive. Ahth didn’t know about transfers. He wasn’t part of a wing yet and there had been no reason to ask before, so he hadn’t; simple as that. Not, of course, that Ahth was about to admit he didn’t know – he wasn’t stupid.

No response to his words. R’ahre brushed against Ahth’s mind questioningly, was met with a wordless reassurance and curiosity, as he leapt over the rocks until bare feet hit soft sand and the sudden change in material underfoot made him curl his toes under his feet awkwardly before he glanced back at Sonarth and Katar; one eyebrow rose, but he assumed that the bluepair was okay with his orders – and yes, they were orders. Ahth was next to him now, the dark blue dragon slinking up behind his Rider, his muzzle touching the man’s arm lightly. The touch drew no response from R’ahre, who turned and flung himself onto Ahth’s back, one quick leap; his legs closed around the blue’s neck ridges and one hand wound around the ridge directly before him. Ahth wore no straps but he didn’t mind; flying without them was more fun and much more – intimate. There was no relying on leather, only on the bond and the love, trusting that the dragon would not unseat – and he did. It was fine.

Sonarth’s words to Ahth made the dark blue turn to look at the other, but he made no response. Large wings flared and then the young dragon threw himself into the air, serpentine form twisting. A thermal carried him high into the air before he spun idly to allow Sonarth and Katar a minute to catch up. Ahth loved flying; he was dazzling and he knew it – feather-light, he glided into another spin, the motion turning towards the Weyr. He was fast and Ahth didn’t slow down for Sonarth; if the blue wanted to follow, then let him follow. He couldn’t wait to get back to the Weyr so he could lecture His in peace anyway; he ought to know better than to leave but it was difficult to be upset at His for long periods of time. Side effect of being sympathetically inclined towards him. Both wings cut through the air, efficiently; a quick look was stolen over one shoulder to make sure Sonarth hadn’t fallen behind by too much.

So. Weyrwoman’s in charge of out-of-Weyr things and transfers, is that right?
That is. Shall I call Hepaticath’s? You don’t like Millieth’s.
The slight twitch made it clear the words were correct. No. I don’t. But call her anyway; she’s Senior.
You like Hepaticath’s better though. Millieth’s won’t argue, I’m sure.
Better just go with Kaegan and get it over with. Go ahead and make friends with Sonarth.

Ahth made no response to His, but he did bespeak Sonarth nonetheless; his ‘voice’ remained pleasant, helpful; the dedicated, informative host. Which he wasn’t. Selenitas is just ahead. You’ll be wanting to transfer, or request an audience from the Weyrleaders for...other...reasons? The latter was much more inclined to be suspicious; as far as Ahth saw it, one that was not from Benden came to Selenitas for one of two reasons: Transfer, be it legal or otherwise, or to spy. It was one or the other, and female bluerider or not Katar could be a spy. And R’ahre was paranoid which in turn made Ahth slightly suspicious. The watchdragon will, as I’m sure you’re aware, inquire and it’s best if I spoke on your behalf, he went on, and what he said was true; a dragon born of Selenitas was much more trustworthy than a foreign one.

[tarra]

(OOC> Oops, think I missed that during my reading of the guides and such Thanks for pointing it out! Also, I took the liberty of stating the name of Katar's Wing back in Fort; this was based on reading a previous thread that mentioned a takeover by Fort's Delta Wing, which gave me the idea that their Wings are named after the greek alphabet. If wrong, just let me know and I'll correct it. Thanks!)


Ahth's supposed friendliness did little to detract Sonarth from his earlier observations of the weyrling. For all his innocence and playful demeanour, he had already shown himself to be nuanced from the first sentence; and his evasiveness now only strengthened the older dragon's sense of the subtleness with which the dark-hued youngster conducted himself. He was the blue who had looked brown from a distance; the easy-going one whose sand-covered talons showed dark and dangerous despite his casualness. Perhaps he truly did not know if Northern transfers were acceptable (and was trying not to show it), but Sonarth had known enough malicious dragons to know also that one should never take a stranger at face value. There was wisdom in the way his rider approached new relationships, new people; and he acknowledged that wisdom by adapting it into his own dealings with others. Whatever Sonarth or Katar might have been at heart, they were uniquely built and shaped by their situation for a life made bitter by circumstances.

He does not know, or does not want to tell, he said, for Katar's mind only, He only says there are exceptions to every rule.

Well, he's said as much as he should for a weyrling, the bluerider was disparaging as she watched R'ahre look back at them with raised brow one more time before mounting his Ahth, It seems I've hit another nerve there.

Yes, well you have, the blue cast his wings open as the weyrling took to the sky, But too many hit nerves might prove ill for us in the end.

She closed one hand on a neckspine as Sonarth threw himself skyward after the weyrling, wide wings snapping down once before catching an updraft spiralling into the looming storm above. The bluerider moved with him, crouched low to lesson the effect of her body mass on the upward plunge, and then flowing with his forward motion as he straightened into a proper glide. With light, soft movements the lithe blue let himself drift, the sprightly winds taking him easily after the younger dragon above them. Katar took the moment to ponder on her dragon's words, a wry smile quirking the side of one lip. Quite honestly, had R'ahre expected her to answer when he had so clearly dismissed her with his tone of voice and his turned back? But Sonarth had a point: they would have to be polite eventually, and much as it irked to her to be polite to a weyrling (arrogant, ignorant upstart...and male!), the reality was that Sonarth and her were the strangers, R'ahre and Ahth the residents. There was little good in courting dissent before one had even met the people who would be one's new Weyrleaders.

The weyrling before them looped into a circle, allowing them to gain sufficient height to catch up, and then set off at a speed that left no doubt he was not going to be more courteous than necessary. Yet for all his poor manners his love for flight showed in his wings, in his slim serpentine agility, twisting and twirling as he showed the way to the unknown Weyr. His pace hardly affected Sonarth; the lithe blue matched it, his flight elegant enough to be noted, but for the most part efficient. Every wingbeat was calculated, every sweep of tail and thread of wind effected to enforce and push him forward in the way he chose. Like most blues he was not a slow dragon, and the attitude he carried only served to give rhythm and capability to his flight. Not for nothing had he worn his wings to sinew and his body to leanness on the long sweeprides across the Fort protectorate. He stayed behind the younger blue-pair - as was courteous - but should Ahth have gone faster he would have found it no trouble at all to keep up.

Katar, leaning to move with the thrusts and twists of her mindmate, found her thoughts wandering to the odd way of riding practised by R'ahre. No leathers, no straps, nothing that might secure him should a fall occur in the midst of all that spinning. It seemed to the young woman that the weyrlings were showing their age more than ever: strapless riding was all very well when one was at leisure or at play, but to do such with a possibly hostile stranger about was plain folly. Trust and love were the staples of every dragon-rider bond; but even trust and love would not avail if an evasive twist or turn caused an inadvertant accident. That was what the straps were for: to give a rider greater leverage whilst her dragon danced the duels of life and death, and to give a dragon greater assurance that the flight or fight movements would not accidentally kill his rider (and thus him) in the process.

Yet for all her disapproval, the weyrlings' flight drew her eyes - and in some ways, her heart as well. She watched them dance across the sky, and knew that what she felt was admiration. Admiration and envy. She could not remember ever being so carefree, so...young. She had been strong since her youth; mature from her birth almost, it seemed. And disparaging as she might be about that strapless style of flying, she marvelled that the young man could keep his seat even as his blue did what he did now in flight. Sonarth's mind touched hers.

So could you, if you wanted to.

Yes, but he's a weyrling.

A most foolhardy one as well.

Katar chuckled, and then felt him bend away from her, as if listening to someone else. Still smiling, she tapped her fingers idly against the neckspine before her as she listened in on her dragon's thoughts.

Yes Ahth, we are here to transfer, Sonarth responded. Which was, as far as he was concerned, the truth. After all, wasn't a transfer just a move from one Weyr to another, and was that not what they were here to do? We thank you again for your courtesy in bringing us into the Weyr. Should the watchdragon request it, we are of Gamma Wing in Fort. We would also be most pleased to wait on your leaders if they should wish to see us.

[Avu]

((We never actually named the Fort and Benden Wings, so you’re good ^^))

That agitated him more than anything else the bluepair could have said. There to transfer, there to stay. R’ahre’s eyes narrowed slightly, focusing on the Weyr sprawling out beneath them. Fort was disliked on sight and bringing a Rider from that Weyr back to Selenitas went against his instincts. Guh. One hand rose to rub against Ahth’s neck, mostly as reassurance. It wasn’t his dragon that had him upset, after all; he was very much grateful for Ahth telling him, word for word, what Sonarth said to him. Ahth’s mind brushed against his faintly, and R’ahre found the prominent emotion in his dragon’s mind was a cold amusement. Sonarth was a Fort transfer. Fort was not as badly reputed as Benden was, though the latter had mostly made up for such with the alliance, but they were still Northern and that would hold against them. His ought not to worry so. Why should he?

I believe the Senior Weyrwoman’s approval will be adequate for a transfer. the young blue responded quietly to Sonarth, before he tilted his head expectantly. A second later, the watch-dragon’s bugle rang out, challenging, as expected. The green’s mind brushed against Ahth’s in a silent inquiry; even from a distance the aggressive position made it clear that she was fixated primarily on Sonarth. Ahth she was familiar with, after all – Sonarth she was not. Ahth hovered, tail flicking at the tip to warn Sonarth not to approach any further until approval was given, before he replied, allowing Sonarth to hear his words as well, Sonarth and His hail from Fort and wish to request an audience with the Senior Weyrwoman regarding a transfer.

The green grumbled warily, but there were no other challenges. Go to the landing pad outside the Main Hall. Do not leave them alone. I will bespeak Millieth. A flick of her head towards the Weyr, cutting off the connection. Millieth. Vasityth and R’ened reporting from Northern watch. Fort blue Sonarth and His wish to bespeak Yours regarding transfer. Brought in by Ahth and His. They will meet you on the landing pad outside the Main Hall, if it suits you and Yours. The green fidgeted visibly, wings flaring, but the crisp, efficient words gave away none of her agitation.

Great. Tell Sonarth, take us down. Why are /we/ stuck with them?
We’re ‘stuck with them’ because Vasityth does not trust them. I thought that would please you, Ahth responded calmly, before he brushed against Sonarth’s mind again. Vasityth has requested an audience with Millieth for us. We are to meet her on the landing pad outside the Main Hall. If you would. His wings flared, dropping to glide in to the Weyr he was so familiar with. R’ahre tightened his legs around Ahth’s neck, frowning slightly to himself as Ahth’s shadow appeared, racing fast over the ground, until he swept in to land neatly on the large landing pad across the River from the Main Hall. A quick hop brought him sideways to allow Sonarth to land, the dark blue tucking in his wings neatly.

R’ahre dropped from Ahth’s neck, crinkling his nose slightly as he brushed the back of his hand against Ahth’s shoulder. I’m still not happy. he commented grudgingly, flicking dark hair out of his eyes. What’s taking so long? An impatient sigh was cut off as Ahth tilted his head to look down at R’ahre, mind touching the young Rider’s warningly.

Millieth comes.

[Tashe]

It truly was getting to be winter. Sitting astride Millieth, the Senior Weyrwoman clasped her gloved hands together as a small breeze swirled by them. Although she didn't feel the slight chill that the wind bore, she could tell by how crisp her vision was. They were at the Drumheights hiding, though not very subtly, from a certain messenger who kept bringing her more work. She was tired, and swore that if she saw another piece of paperwork that day she would rightfully scream. Which of course, was an exaggeration, because she couldn't hide forever. Mine, I am bored. Why do we not fly somewhere. I hate just sitting here, despite the view. Kaegan lowered her hands to her Dragon's neck, giving her a reassuring pat. For a few moments more. I like it when the Weyr is silent. She picked up the faint ringing of a watch bell almost immediately after she finished... and sighed deeply.

Millieth swung around to stare in the direction of the ringing, waiting with only a twitch of her tail to betray anxiety. She unfolded her wings slightly as one of her Watchdragons contacted her with information. A Fort transfer? She twitched her tail again. Thank you Vasityth. We shall be there shortly. Your vigilance shall not go unnoted. Then switching to her Human, she continued. Kaeganmine, a Fort Dragon of the name Sonarth and His want so speak with you about a transfer. Nothing serious, but should I bespeak Salenth? No, we will talk to them later. Until I hear the circumstances of the Transfer, let them be. I will send a report to S'rei later and if he wishes to investigate he can. He probably already heard the Watchbell and will arrive anyways.

Picking herself up slightly as Millieth launched herself off of the edge of the canyon wall, the Goldrider frowned. The last time Fort had thought they were harboring transfers, more than one person had died that day. It was certainly something that made a person want to deny transfers. But, Selenitas had always accepted refugees and would continue to do so until she was outvoted by the other Weyrleaders. Grabbing the neckstrap as Millieth dove downward, Kaegan concerned herself with her Dragon's thoughts. Millieth, lets try not to be over threatening, yes? No response. Millieth. Yes, yes. Not too threatening fine.

Circling once in a tight loop over the main hall before descending, gave both Rider and Dragon a moment to inspect both of the Blues on the ground. Landing where there was room, Millieth shifted slightly before allowing her rider to dismount. She reached out to Ahth to say, You did well, though, next time maybe ask for another Dragon to help escourt a stranger, before withdrawing to inspect Sonarth from where she was.

Leaping down from her Dragon's foreleg, Kaegan landed as softly as she could, though the heels of her boots still made a hallow thump as they hit the ground. Removing her gloves, she tucked them under her arm before removing her flight goggles. Pacing quietly over to R'ahre, she nodded although when she noticed Ahth was not wearing leathers she frowned slightly. She wouldn't call him on it, seeing as the arrival of this Fort Dragon was unexpected. Who is this? Ahth's rider, R'ahre. And that is Sonarth of...? No name was given. Standing with her hands clasped behind her back, she waited for the woman to approach. "I was called...?"

[Requiem]

Growlygrowly. He paused. Really? Worm's stream of dialogue shifted back toward normal discussions. He began to walk again. Growlygrowlygrowly. S'rei stopped, glaring downward in the general direction of the salamandyr. "Must you do that?" Biglenthlenthsaynouncewarngoodwarnangrylaurieminemineangry, Worm responded innocently. It's official. I'm going to kill you. And why won't you tell me where they are again? he addressed Salenth huffily. Because if you have to find Millieth's you will talk to her in person rather than send another messenger. I really need to see if she has more up-to-date blueprints, Salenth, S'rei responded with forced calm. Which you can find out just as well face-to-face.

He growled in his throat, the sound lost in the pounding of the falls. Worm's 'growly's', however, were not. The bell sounded, drawing S'rei's eyes toward the skies. Salenth. Vasityth and R'ened reporting from the Northern Watch. Fort blue Sonarth and His wish to bespeak Millieth's regarding transfer. Brought in by Ahth and His. Mine thought you and Yours would wish to know. Very good. Proceed. The teasing was gone from Salenth's voice. A fort bluepair, requesting Millieth's only? Perhaps... No. I'll be there shortly. Watching the gold twist through the air, he grimaced. There won't be room on that landing pad for a green, much less you, Sal.

He wasn't too terribly late, and though he was the Weyrleader, he didn't wear any knots to indicate such. Never did. It certainly wasn't worth a detour back to his quarters to locate them, that was for sure. The towering man's features held the neutral warmth that usually touched them, but Worm wasn't about to let him get away with the polite mask. S'rei made a mental note to kill Salenth slowly for putting her up to this. Growlygrowlygrowlygrowlygrowly. Nice and loud. Healthy mindvoice the salamandyr had.

At least she didn't feel the need to continue when he stopped moving. Small blessings.

Incoming, Salenth whispered to Millieth, from his position on the Drumheights. Oh yes, he'd been in line of sight of Millieth the whole time, only the fact that he was lower on the hill and deliberately not thinking of where she was kept S'rei from knowing. Very cute, Sal. I thought so, the bronze replied smugly.

He quite deliberately did not consider all the stupid things currently going on here, lest he have a most visibile twitch fit, the bronzerider folding his arms across his chest and standing back and to one side of the Weyrwoman. He ground his toe idly into the ground. Sure, the dragons would serve as a buffer, but why was everyone else dismounting before this bluerider did? Really, he was going to have to start teaching common sense classes or something here. The line of his jaw twitched subtly.

[tarra]

(OOC> Thanks!)

The watchdragon's burgle echoed across the stormy air as they came in sight of Weyr. Braced though she was, Katar felt a shiver ran down her spine at the sight of the agitated green, already posturing on her ledge. The Selenitas dragons were said to be soft - weaker than their Northern cousins, less experienced than the senior weyrlings of Fort and Benden. But these thoughts did little to hold in the bluerider's mounting apprehension: she was about to fly into a Weyr full of possibly hostile dragons, there was no telling what might come of it. Sonarth heeded Ahth's signal to stay back and twirled away, looping into a meandering circle that would keep their distance. Katar, for her part, felt a frown prick at her brows.

An audience with the Senior Weyrwoman?

We did not say that.

Perhaps she handles transfers.

Perhaps.

Ahth's mindvoice came again, and Sonarth relayed the message to his rider word for word. She nodded, Thank Vasityth, then bring us down.

The lithe blue reached for the green's mind with just the lightest of touches, considerate and mild, coveying his thanks with the sense of it rather than any spoken words. He tilted his wings even as he did so, and came sloping in just behind the weyrling for the landing on the appointed ledge. His wings flicked back into a stall just above it, giving the younger dragon time to jump aside before he clapped his wingsails shut and fell the last few feet onto the ledge - as neat a landing as any studious flyer might perform. Katar reached to unclip her harness, her eyes roving to the massive shadow now circling across the ground near them, and then flicking up to the gold dragon that cast it as she came in beside them. The ledge was by no means small, though one gold and two blues was just...a mite crowded, if you were the kind who disliked proximity of any sort. Katar usually didn't; but these were strange dragons, and one was a gold.

Katar watched as the goldrider dismounted and went over to R'ahre, nodding once to him as she did so. She acknowledged her weyrlings. Perhaps that was just a courtesy too, but the bluerider was hard-pressed to remember anyone of this rank treating her with such regard in Fort. Snapping off the harness clip, his rider slid from her mindmate's shoulders and stood at ease beside him. It was discourtesy to remain mounted before the Senior Weyrwoman, and the last thing the blue pair wished was to court discord by some lack of etiquette. There were few enough goldriders that Katar, like most riders, knew all of them by name. It was harder yet to miss the Senior Weyrwoman - there was no reason for her to think that this goldrider would be anyone but her. She rather wished they might speak to Kaegan in private, but she could see no reason for the request to be granted. Beggars (and runaways) could not be choosers. She was already banking much on the rumour that Selenitas never turned away riders seeking refuge from the Wars.

"My duties to you, Senior Weyrwomen Kaegan," her voice, somehow, remained calm, collected, "My name is Katar of blue Sonarth. As your watchdragon would have said, we come from Fort Weyr seeking a...transfer."

Another man arrived just then - a gray-eyed fellow with enough height to appear imposing beside the others present. His coming gave her pause as her eyes flicked to him for the barest of seconds, considering his identity. He said nothing, and so left her in the dark as to who he was. No knots, and no dragon nearby either. What reason would a strange man have for taking up position beside the Senior Weyrwoman as he had? Two thoughts came at once: he was her bodyguard, or he was the Weyrleader. And hadn't she heard some rumour about the Selenitas Weyrleader being an exceptionally tall man? The thought almost made her gulp - though had she known all that was going on behind the scenes she might not have taken the situation quite as sternly. But it was always better to err on the side of caution, and Katar would rather err than annoy a Weyrleader by inadvertantly ignoring him. She felt Sonarth's silent approval of her train of thoughts, and decided to take a shot in the dark.

"My duties to you as well, Weyrleader," she repeated herself for the newcomer, "We are Katar and Sonarth of Fort Weyr's Gamma Wing, seeking a transfer to Selenitas."

Sonarth bent his head before the Senior Gold as his mind inclined towards hers, deferential and most certainly unthreatening. He could see no bronze dragon nearby, and though greetings might be in order he would only give them when he was certain. His mindvoice, whilst still tinged with the electricity of excitement that Threadfall always gave him, was a light brush of respectfulness as he bespoke the Queen. Like Katar, the lithe blue was a diplomat - albeit by imitation mostly - in the moments when need drove him to be one. And if he could somehow explain the reasons for their transfer privately (without that pesky blue weyrling listening in), so much the better for his and him.

My greetings, Senior Gold Millieth. We come in peace. I regret that I do not know your mate, to greet him, but with the permission of you and yours we will explain the reasons of our transfer.

[Avu]

Millieth was regarded steadily for a moment, before Ahth dipped his head in polite acquiescence – a gesture that he really did not feel. His didn’t like Millieth or Hers, and that in itself was good enough for Ahth. The suggestion of asking another dragon for help escorting this one was reasonable, he supposed, but he didn’t feel he needed that extra help. It was one dragon. Trained, yes, but dodging and actually fighting were too different things and he only ever needed to do the former. Easy. His mind brushed against R’ahre’s as the bluerider leaned against his shoulder to conceal the irritation he felt. Towards Katar, towards Kaegan and Millieth – if the Fort Rider hadn’t appeared he’d still be by himself. Alone. Like he wanted to be. Not here, not with the goldrider he disliked the most out of Selenitas’s three.

Still, Kaegan earned a slight bow of his head, if only to acknowledge her presence. Her words went unanswered by R’ahre. It was unnecessary, given that Katar had begun to speak – R’ahre intended to give her no help, either. Her problem if the Weyrwoman didn’t like her. At least she’d the sense to dismount, but…meh. The slight hesitation before the word ‘transfer’ did not go unnoticed; R’ahre tilted his head cautiously to look over at Katar. Transfer, hum. Transfer implied permission from the home Weyr. Transfer implied signed papers approving of said transfer. Right.

Salenth’s is here as well, Ahth commented, and there was no concealing the smugness in his tone. A smugness which startled R’ahre, though he didn’t let it show as his gaze flicked to S’rei and then back to Katar as she spoke. The blue’s gaze swirled idly before he turned his head slightly to look from Millieth to Sonarth for a glimpse of their eyes. Hard to hide emotion in dragon, after all, though Ahth’s seemed to be a permanent shade of very dark bluish-green – dark enough to be difficult to tell if he was actually happy or not. Which was his intent, to make it difficult. His wings rustled slightly before he caught the question from R’ahre and he responded idly, Vasityth could hardly /not/ inform the Weyrleader of a Fort Rider, could she? And now I expect Salenth’s is suspicious. You may thank me later.

…guh. R’ahre could practically hear Ahth’s amusement with it, though he felt decidedly superfluous. What was the point in his being there at all…? Sure, I’ll thank you later. Whatever. Ask Millieth if we /have/ to be here – or, know what…? Just ask if /I/ have to be here. If Sonarth decides to spontaneously attack, /you/ can jump onto his back or something. S’rei can take care of /her/. Hard to tell if ‘her’ was intended to mean Kaegan or Katar, but the emphasis on the pronoun was not a favorable one by any means. Be polite about it, too, if you could. Don’t make her upset with you.

Tsk. So antisocial. Don’t you know how many things we could find out by being here? Ahth replied, but he brushed against Millieth’s mind nonetheless, a discreet touch as soft and silky as his ‘voice’. If you would pardon the interruption, Millieth. R’ahreMine wishes to know if his presence is necessary here since Salenth’s is here now to protect Yours. I would be happy to stay in the case of…a struggle. The last two words were pronounced delicately; Ahth’s gaze never wavered from Sonarth. If he could make them even more paranoid, that would be good. It would make His happy, in any case.