The Late Blossom: Wymeth's Flight

[neeuqtar]

Boom da-doom ba-ba-boom boom b-boom-b-b-boom! The drumbeats rolled across the canyon, echoing slightly through the sinuous curves carved by the glittering Selenitas River. Vashti scrawled the measures down in a sand-tray, her stylus flying across the damp sand in clear and precise handwriting. She growled--another inane message, when she had far more important things to think about. The disappearances, for example... and the plague. She and the other drummers had worked out a shorthand series for each, but nothing had spread from the Weyr, it seemed.

With a sigh, the WeyrDrummer drummed out the "received" measure, waiting for the echoes to die before starting to send the message to the next drum station, prefacing with the station to receive and the final destination. At the back of her mind, she felt Wymeth stir. The green lady had been sleeping since dusk the day before, and it was hours past noon. As the received message came back (garbled, of course; the nearness of canyon and waterfall made Selenitas Weyr a difficult drum station to run), a flood of emotion hit her like a wall of water.

Vashti gasped, her drumsticks slipping from suddenly senseless fingers as Wymeth curled tighter around the drum tower, her claws sliding across the scored surface of the granite as her slitted eyes glanced across the Weyr from her lofty resting place. Her eyes slipped closed again as her form relaxed again, tail slipping from its death-grip on the rough stone of the drumtower. The Drummer staggered as the emotion fell away from her, gasping harsh breaths as she fell against the wall, mind scuttling from one thought to another.

What-- why--

Her thoughts roused Wymeth again, though the slam of emotion didn't hit her this time. It crept up, almost unnoticed, slowly swamping her mind. It took moments before she had no control, dashing to the edge of the drumtower, her blond hair falling from its pinned constraints to fly out around her face in rich golden curls as she stared blindly across the canyon. Unthinkingly, her tongue flicked out, whetting her slightly chapped lips before they pursed into a dolphineer's whistle, the clear tones cutting across the sound of water.

Below her, the red-eyed dragon stretched langorously, her hide brushing against the stone wall carelessly. With sudden motion, she unfurled from the drumtower, leaping forward to the edge of the canyon and launching from the stone with a toned trill, her powerful form stretching out across the air as delicately-colored wings flung wide. Rising, at last. They had thought that she might never take to the air in mating call, that the quirk of genetics which had taken her ability to feel pain had robbed her of the Chance to Fly.

They were wrong. They were all wrong! She called again, as Vashti clambered to perch on the stone wall of the drumtower, steadying herself on one of the columns holding up the slate roof. Her males--where were they? They needed to be here... NOW!!

Or she might get... angry...

[rii]

Golden eyes slitted open, glazed with sleep as they peered over dark furs and through long raven strands. A familiar flame burned warmly in his chest and as F'lix laid half-awake in his bed he grasped at the intangible link between himself and his blue. He followed that warm line to Saboth, feeling the bond thrum more strongly as their minds grew closer to becoming one.

"Now?" A soft inquiry as F'lix pushed himself into a sitting position. His gaze still stared at the stone without really seeing it, torn between visualizing his blue and seeing the skies through the dragon's eyes. "But I've been sick.."

You've rested enough, and my wings have become cramped lying here so long. I want to stretch them. It will be fun.

Maybe for you.

Idly F'lix ran his slender fingers through his rumpled hair to put it into some sort of order. He made a distasteful expression before gracefully rising to his feet. Barefoot he padded out to the ledge where Saboth remained perched, tail curled over his claws, snout lifted to the skies. To say F'lix did not like flights would be an understatement. He loathed the feeling of losing all control and not knowing where he would end up after all was said and done. The bluerider usually had a rather.. dark way of dealing with the flooding desire spilling from his dragon. But this time, he would not worry Saboth. The blue had been patient enough with him, it was time to return the favor.

A rush of wind and the blue was gone from the ledge, having pulled himself over the side. Wings only partial unfolded as he skimmed down the side, picking up speed. Inch by inch he opened his wings catching more air and angling his body away from the rock. Before getting too close to the ground he flared them, his body streaking out from the wall and skimming out over the river in the next instant. His blue hide shimmered with the moving water, nearly blending in as he made his way toward Wymeth. Slowly he began to turn in wide circles, gaining a bit of height with each pump of his large wings. Saboth returned her call, his rumbling bass echoing off the walls, here he was to chase, ready to see her fly.

Back on the weyr ledge, F'lix had let his eyes drift close as the last resistance fell between his own mind and his blue's. At once his stance relaxed, flowing with motion as he swayed to place weigh over one foot. He rolled his shoulders, felt good to stretch his wings again. Now where.. F'lix head tilted to the side as he listened to the whistling over the dull roar of the waterfall. Ah yes, his eyes opened, again glazed but no longer with sleep, and they directed their line of sight on the far drumtower. There.

F'lix set off down the stairs, a brisk pace, not quite running but he undoubtedly showed the graceful bounce in step as would a traveling feline. He would not rush like a fool because he was Saboth, and the blue was ever the patient, calm one.

[glamourie]

R’wignmine…?
Hnn?
Wymeth – I want to –
Go. I’m fine. I’ll be fine. Go.

Checkoth crooned nervously, his whirling-eyed gaze lingering on R’wign. The healer was sitting on the very edge of the infirmary weyrledge, his arms wrapped around his legs; for all appearances, he was getting well, but keeping him out of the infirmary was nearly impossible. Checkoth had resigned to hovering over his rider (literally) as if he was convinced that he’d wither and blow away on the wind. Though R’wign kept insisting that he was fine (and he wasn’t sleeping so much; after he’d gone black, he’d woken up covered in sweat and complaining of heat which R’wignHis swore meant that he was getting well), he was still nervous. His tails both wound around his rider and he nudged him gently, obviously meant in affection. R’wign patted his flank, and Checkoth crooned before uncurling from around the healer, his wings still nervously twitching. Would he really be okay…? He didn’t sound upset; in fact, he almost sounded relieved. Check squirmed, uncomfortable, and nudged R’wign again.

“If you don’t hurry, your green will Fly without you,” R’wign drawled, pushing his brown’s flank encouragingly. “I’m fine. I’ll be able to find… find… whatever her rider’s name is. Go. Please stop worrying about me.”

Never. I will always worry over you.

Just the same, Checkoth pushed himself up and off the weyrledge with a gust of wind that blew a few loose strands of R’wign’s hair out of his face. The healer leaned his head back to watch Checkoth spiral up and out of the canyon. R’wign watched his dragon ascend, his arms tightening on his legs as he sighed, grateful for being mostly-alone on the ledge. Other dragons came and went, sometimes some of the apprentices came out – he was technically free to go back to his weyr, but… R’wign didn’t want to. He felt safer in the infirmary with all of the healers, and felt like he had to be there, somehow; if he didn’t stay, what would happen? There was a good chance he’d get sick again or something. Never mind that he’d probably get sick by staying. Logic for the moment was ignored. R’wign was worried, and he didn’t like the feeling of being trapped… anywhere. He was scared, pretty much constantly, but… at least Checkoth’s hide was starting to look healthy again.

Sad, really, that he judged his own health based on his brown’s appearance. When he was bedridden, Check dulled to an almost gray brown hue, alarming off-color. The rich shades of autumn were rapidly coming back, though, and he looked a lot better. Even his natural luster had returned. R’wign’s gaze followed the dragon into the air and he wrapped his arms around his chest before turning and starting up the stairs toward the drum heights as a wave of feeling not his own washed over him; he knew, instinctively, where to go. Such a shame that it was so high up though. He still found himself getting child from time to time (hence he was wearing really long clothes which were unusual for Selenitas Weyr – he wanted to stay warm).

Checkoth beat his wings and flew up toward the drum heights, circling widely. There was still a slight burn in his wings, primarily bent from having flown right into a tree after Peppeth (embarrassingly enough), but most of the pain was gone, and with it a sense of delight. He didn’t hold it against Peppeth that he got hurt, and he wasn’t discouraged. Wymeth was one of his clutchsisters, like Uminth (he’d wanted to Chase her, but R’wignHis insisted no) and Oquith, and he liked his clutchmatches. They were all the best. He was a touch disappointed – did she have to Rise so close to His being sick? – but it wasn’t Wymeth’s fault that R’wignHis was sick. He’d show R’wignHis that they were the best, even Wymeth would see that. They’d beat the evil thing that was taking all of the others away – that made them the best there ever was. His eyes whirled and he crooned, rather than bugled, after Wymeth – ready to chase her all over if she’d have him. He just hoped she wasn’t insulted that he was a little off color. He didn’t mean to not look his best for her, after all!

[lokath]

The drumbeats echoed across the canyon, filling the Weyr with the sonorous sound connected in every person, Rider, Holder, or Brat, to messages. Not that R’el expected anything from home, except an oft considered demand that he be returned for execution. The cool weather of spring was starting to heat into the boiling jungle summers, and R’el, used as he was to the north, was already becoming uncomfortable. Taking it into his mind to become accustomed to the oddities of his new home, the bronzer had begun regular training sessions on the Hatching Sands. If they couldn’t get him used to the heat, nothing would.

He was shirtless and sweating, going through the movements of an advanced stave form, when his head tilted back, eyes locking on a green flash, radiating light and warmth. He hardly even noticed the drums stopping as he snarled, whirling to face towards his weyr. Kreyanth. What are you sharding doing? Wasn’t the last one enough for you? As you well know, R’el, I did not catch Aonith. Such a pity, she was nearly as beautiful as this one. You’ve interrupted my damn practice. Not that it won’t be a worthy diversion if you win, but… Why do greens always pick the most unfortunate times to Rise!

Kreyanth, down below in the canyon itself, watched Wymeth silently from his ledge. Only as r’el finally sent a single word of permisstionYes, did he take to the air. Powerful wings flapping as the much larger bronze began to gain alititude, catching a light thermal and using the updraft to approach the green’s height. As he circled upwards, closer to the green, R’el began an ascent of his own. Climbing up the stairs of the drumtower in this weather, tired as he already was, was no easy task. But his green awaited him at the top of the ascent. She was a beautiful green. And it would be a beautiful Chase.

[neeuqtar]

Wymeth's wings spread wide, her muscles slightly stiff from long sleep but mostly limbered from the heat of the stone on which she had rested. But Wymeth was a dragon who couldn't get sore, and though tiredness might slow her, nothing short of breaking her wings off would keep her out of the air. An updraft off the canyon wall buoyed her up, sending her scudding up towards the high clouds.

One. A blue, one she did not know by name. Fast, showing off; he skimmed water the clear color of his hide before calling back to her, a deep sound that sparked her to Rise higher, circling, waiting.

Two. A brown... not just any brown. Checkoth, who's rider had so oddly captivated Her's imagination from so long ago. The allure was not so strong, but she remembered somewhere in the back of Vashti's mind. He looked sick, yes, but hadn't His died and come back? She seemed to remember that. She could forgive him a dull hide if he flew well, him of the two tails...

Three. A bronze, and huge. Again, not one she knew personally, but a handsome male nonetheless. So. The whole rainbow of males came to Chase, did they? But.. only three. And where was Qualuth, her brother? Had he not sworn he would Chase her, as he had Chased her beloved Oquith?

Normally, Wymeth would have been delighted with her three--after all, here was a sampling of all the Weyr had to offer!--but this was not a normal Wymeth. With all her emotions and hormones at their peak, this was a Wymeth prone to... ire. She snarled silently, before bugling, a tone far more challenging than the lovely trill the green had invited them with to her maiden Rise. She had asked... now she would demand.

The sound still echoing through the canyon, Wymeth pumped her wings hard, shooting forward into a roll and side-slipping to catch a second thermal, her wings flaring wide to stall her forward motion while she shot upwards. With another snarl, she screamed her challenge a third and final time, before folding her winds and dropping towards the river, twisting sideways to shoot past the blue. The green dragon skimmed the cliff wall, legs tucked tight to her belly. She wouldn't even notice if they caught on the stone just next to her...

Vashti whistled again, sharply, before turning from her precarious perch and leaping down into the drum tower, landing in a crouch before taking off at a run, bounding down the long twist of stairs blindly, leaping over three and four steps at a time. She stumbled once, almost falling, but caught her step again and continued running, flying out of the drum tower at a breakneck speed. Her bare feet flashed on the hard-packed earth. She paused a moment, a confused look on her face, before turning and heading to the cliff stairs. Down... down there, she needed to be...

Just short of the river, Wymeth pulled up short, her pale wings flaring wide and sending her back up, over the river. She flapped hard, pulling up towards the cliffs again. There! A male, lounging, while she Rose!! Her whole body tensed, and with a dangerous hiss she veered to the cliff, twisting and skimming the canyon wall. She raked the air near the dragon, a feint more than a strike. Why dare they rest when she called! Was she not good enough?! But with or without them, she was going to FLY!!

[Requiem]

And who was that resting dragon? Inocenth was not interested in young little greens who didn't know how to use their own wings. He in fact preferred fighting greens, dragons with spunk. As well as a little dangerous. The dragon curled around the drumtower? So not interesting. In fact, he'd been far more intrigued by His, who was currently...having a small hissy. A very odd thing, to say the least. F'ur rarely showed much emotion - or let much leak through - and yet...

"Where did I put it, Ino?" What? "That..." He made vague gestures with his hands. F'ur was half-dressed, tossing his furs for whatever it was he was looking for, his wiry frame on the thin side after the bought of illness that had touched him. As amazing as this might seem to you, 'that' and flaling of your stubby limbs doesn't really tell me much. The bluerider shot him a glare. "He never told me what it was called." Inocenth had now taken to studying his green-tinged claws. Oh. That thing. F'ur turned slowly, kicking the chest he'd taken to rifling through closed. His eyes were slitted as he regarded his mindmate. "What did you do with it?"

Inocenth was devising a suitably evasive answer when the shrieking came closer, the blue glancing in the direction of the screaming loon. His tail flicked in annoyance at the interruption. The bluerider was just stalking out onto the ledge when Inocenth hissed at the green slashing at him, red overtaking his eyes before darkening to the purple...from a prone position to standing in a wingbeat, the small blue (he really would have consistently been mistaken for a green, what with his near-black hide, had he not been spotted randomly in lighter blue) flung himself off the cliff, twisting in the air and ascending straight up the cliff face, dragging his claws along the rock and sending up sparks.

A loop at the top, his wings flared, and then he twirled into a tight barrel roll, slashing downward in what could only be termed a violent motion. His path took him directly past his ledge at an angle, tauntingly, and he even caught a few of his mindmate's curses - what wasn't stolen by the howling of swift air displacement. Talons flashed as he banked around the nearest of the males following in Wymeth's wake. She'd challenged him. He'd have her. And the shards with the rest of these.

F'ur grumbled, shaking his head with a muted growl. "You did that just to change the subject," he muttered. His eyes drew up, inevitably, toward where he knew her to be. Fingers flexing, the bluerider paced forward a few steps before coming up on his toes, settling into a swift lope that carried him up the stairs carved into the cliff face two at a time. He didn't lose himself as some did...at least not in the traditional sense. F'ur simply didn't care to act human or listen to human reason anymore. He was hungry.

[rii]

She looked like she was going to–yes, Saboth tilted his flight only slightly as Wymeth shot past him in the opposite direction. His head craning and following her path with a rumbling chuckle. The blue flew too close to the river to make a quick, sharp turn without plunging a wing into the river. Up it was, Saboth sharply angled his flight up, long tail whipping forward, tip flicking through the cold water as he adjusted his slender body after the green. Nearly upside down. He curled his wings around his body, twirling to right himself with the land. Wings then flared and with one powerful sweep of his large wingspan, Saboth swiftly perused Wymeth.

What was she doing?

The blue followed, his eyes momentarily bleeding dark red as the green angrily slashed--and the dark blue returned the gesture. Saboth's tail spiraled behind him, the result of an annoyed tail flick while flying. But, he would not chaste them on their inappropriate behavior, not his problem, not really–even though a chase should be fun. Saboth preferred nice greens that were playful, but he had already joined the chase. Wymeth should enjoy her flight, not be bitter. Anger would only lead to one of them getting hurt..

Saboth pumped his wings again, earning more speed. He twisted, flying parallel to the cliffside with violet hazed eyes keenly watching the green-—

—Two bare feet landed on the shoulders of a man; whether a chaser or not, F'lix did not know, nor did he care. All he knew was the green was going down, so he needed to catch up, be on the same level as her before she could get too far ahead. Instead of snaking around the long way through tunnels and stairs, F'lix took the shortest and most direct route. He leaped down to a lower level, using some unfortunate man as a soft landing mat. F'lix was not all that heavy, as once his feet touched, the young blue rider's knees bent, body slightly curling around his landing spot as he naturally transferred the force of the impact through the length of his lithe frame. The landing pad staggered forward, but F'lix had already coiled and pushed off, temporarily landing on all fours before he was up on only two and quickly resuming his pursuit.

[glamourie]

Wymeth…? Checkoth actually flinched at the angled-sight of his clutchsister’s snarl, his head ducking in the air; he didn’t like that she was upset, no he didn’t like that at all. Checkoth squirmed uncomfortably, beating his wings to follow her glowing form on a burst of wind, ascending upward at a spiral. That sound was – unnerving. Not like Wymeth at all. Checkoth generally preferred nice greens (hence favoring his clutch sisters) and that wasn’t a nice sound like Wymeth usually made; it frightened him a touch and he faltered in his flight for only a moment. Those few quick seconds were enough to give him a view of the other dragons that were chasing Wymeth and the nervousness he felt increased. The blue, he didn’t recognize – he didn’t seem so bad. But the bronze… Bronzes were not fair in greenflights. He remembered being splashed and the water below was terrifying as a result. Checkoth shook his head quickly and pushed himself higher into the air; maybe Wymeth would stay up high, away from the water. That one wouldn’t get to splash him too. He wouldn’t fall for it again, he wouldn’t! Bronzes were mean.

His worst fears were confirmed when Wymeth dove downwards and Checkoth twitched his wings… but didn’t quite follow. Instead he soared near the top of the canyon, never quite letting her out of his sight, but far away from wayward splashes; he would not be caught unaware and tricked into flying into a tree again. His higher-up position gave him a better view of her tight path, so close to the wall, and a fresh blossom of fear passed through him; she was too close. She was going to hurt herself. Because she couldn’t feel it, that would be even worse. It took all of his effort not to whine after her, and against his better judgment, he dove, determined to distract Wymeth from such dangerous paths… if he could. If that made her mad at him, that was okay; he just didn’t want her to hurt herself, not at any cost.

He finally came to level out right as Wymeth rose upward again. Some might have tried speaking – he didn’t. Speaking in flights usually resulted in offending the female, and while he was quick to assume the best most of the time, Check really did want a chance to catch Wymeth. That meant not offending her, if he could. Eyes whirling both red-violets of lust and also hints of orange from anxiety, he crooned; it was a low, melodious sound, and he hoped that the noise would distract Wymeth from the cliffs, so dangerous were they. Cliffs and trees. Mustn’t stay near the cliffs and the trees; what if she hit herself, then she wouldn’t know and Hers would be so very upset, and he’d be very upset too. Away from the cliffs and – and the other dragons there? Confusion flared through his eyes and Checkoth looped wide, trying to keep a good distance from himself and the other chasers. Not to be trusted. Not them. They were scary. All of them. But – his focus was on Wymeth, perhaps fortunately; he didn’t even notice Inocenth come off his weyrledge.

The landbound of the two scuttled up the stairs toward the drumheights, his mind rapidly disappearing into the clouds. The freedom of flying was obscured by the worry encompassing Checkoth and despite himself, R’wign fidgeted awkwardly. He usually remained somewhat aware during flights, and indeed he wasn’t liable to go throwing himself off the stairs in an addled belief that he could fly, but… his muscles were tense, his head bowed, and the usual comfortable movements that trademarked R’wign had vanished in nervous walking that wasn’t quite as graceful or practiced, wasn’t quite as elegant – and was, by far, more innocent than anything R’wign himself could have mustered up without help. The posture was Checkoth all over; he lacked in R’wign’s private conceit, and the exhilaration of the flight had wiped it away from the human part of the pair as well.

He was nearly to the top when – collision. R’wign stumbled backwards, hands coming out to steady himself on slender shoulders and his own vision came into focus, distracting him from Checkoth’s feelings enough for him to recognize the girl he knew to be Wymeth’s rider. His hands quickly jerked away from her, as if he realized that holding her would be a mistake, but he spoke just the same – quietly, as if the words were somehow private. “Be careful; the cliffs are dangerous, and you don’t want to fall…”

[lokath]

The bronze slowly circled, rising upon his thermal towards the green beauty of Wymeth which was his goal. Whirling eyes, purple with the lust of dragon-kind, a lust unrivalled by that of man, fixed solely upon their goal, the green hide of the one their owner chased. The beauty in the skies, she who shone gloriously with a light surpassing that of any sun, radiating a luscious heat far beyond that of any mere jungle summer, would be his. On the ground, R’el struggled to keep his slipping grasp on the last veins of individuality left to him. His hands gripped the quarter staff lightly as he ran furiously for the drum tower, his actions less than half his own. His mind was focused on the ascent to the drum tower. And the struggle. R’el was fully aware of just how dangerous it would be to stand atop a tall drop, mind entirely lost over to that of a dragon’s.

And Wymeth called forth again, summoning yet more males to Chase her. Kreyanth was certain he alone was enough… But what was a flight without competition. As the beauty in the skies flared up, gaining yet more height, Kreyanth steepened his ascent as well, aiming to catch up with her. Her third and final cry echoed across the Weyrbowl, beckoning… R’el felt a tug on his mind, and the moment Kreyanth slipped into a dive, he lost it. The thread slipped, and the quarter staff fell out of his hands. His mind, now conflicted with the knowledge that Vashti was up, but Wymeth was down, froze, and he stood there for a moment until the object of his desires nearly floated into sight.

R’el nearly stumbled and tripped on the stairs, catching himself as he bounded down them in pursuit of his beauty. In the skies, Kreyanth fell, snapping his wings out at the last moment and letting out a fierce bellow as he began to swing upward. The sound of his powerful wings flapping echoed thought the canyon as he strained to keep up with Wymeth, hopping from thermal to thermal. But his heavy form was no match for the lighter green and the blues. He began to lag behind, falling to the back and bottom of the pack, straining all the harder to gain the lift necessary to gain the lead. R’el, however, was the closest of all Vashti’s Chasers. Less than a foot behind her as he followed down the steps into the Weyr itself… A sudden stop. R'el had far too much momentum to stop, so he was forced into a choice. Attempt to leap over the riders, or crash into them? One mind as he was, the bronze rider chose to leap, spreading his arms wide as he sailed inches over R'wign and Vashti's heads... Landing heavily on the stairs with a thump.

[neeuqtar]

She could almost taste Checkoth's worry saturating the air. The brown was following high, or had... then followed her down into the canyon. Oh dear. Was he afraid she would clip her wings? It was always a fear... He came close to her, crooning, before peeling out of the main pack. Saboth was behind her, agile, closer to the cliff than she dared to fly; the big bronze Kreyanth flew low and ponderously below her, left behind in the sharp turns. Well, he still had time. But first...

Wymeth pumped her wings, catching a thermal and shooting upwards, before executing a wingtip turn and turning 270 degrees around and slightly down, skimming on a direct line for Checkoth, for a moment chasing the Chaser. As she passed by him, she dipped her nose and thrummed at her Clutchbrother, just barely brushing him as she tumbled sideways, wing over wing, righting herself in the air just above the plane of the canyon, tipping sideways to pass the dark and dangerous Inocenth.

Hah! There, now he saw, the blue who had been sleeping while she Rose! Wymeth trilled in delighted victory, hitting another thermal and gaining altitude, turning her choices over in her mind--not that she was done, oh no!! She had far more tricks up her proverbial sleeves...

The waterfall flashed below her, the river plunging down below her, suddenly expanding the altitude between her and the ground. Her wings twitched, talons flashing, and in sudden decision let the downdraft just next to the falls drag her down for a moment, towards the treacherous water, tilting nose-down to free-fall for a glorious moment before powering forward into the accompanying updraft, shooting back upwards, her hide glittering with the spray of the falls. Then, lazily, shifting her wings to veer over the forest--high, yes, but the green below her, extending to the horizon in endless beauty.

A fitting vista, perhaps...

---

Vashti could feel the stone slapping beneath her feet in a detached sort of way. There was no pain--she couldn't feel pain. She wouldn't hurt herself, couldn't Checkoth see that? She was a good flier, good enough to fly and challenge and Rise, wasn't she? He shouldn't worr--oof!

A body appeared in her way, hands holding her, stopping her, jolting her mid-Rise. A human voice spoke to her, words she had trouble wrapping her mind again, but enough to bring a touch of Vashti to the surface. Checkoth's! Touching her, stopping her. She ducked as Kreyanth's flew over her head-- close, too, close! The movement brought her so close to R'wign to feel the brownrider's breath, and some feminine instinct made her catch her breath at the scent of man.

She nipped at him, teeth flashing and closing on his shoulder as she curled past him, her body millimeters from his. Saboth's was moments from her, Kreyanth's and Checkoth's close--too close! There were no stairs this way, but she had to get away from the males. They weren't supposed to be this close! Vashti crept along the slope, sliding down scree in a shortcut. There, stairs! She resumed her downward dash, flying down the cliffside, before angling to a ledge overhanging the river...

[rii]

Saboth followed her course diligently, catching the same thermal to rise up in the air. For a moment, as she veered directly for Checkoth, Saboth thought she may have already chosen. A faint disappointment filled him that the flight had been so short–oh, but no, she only skimmed by the brown. Good. Saboth pumped his wings with new vigor, taking a higher path to pass safely over Checkoth and Inocenth.

Higher still he rose, until he caught sight of Wymeth skimming down the cliffs next to the waterfall. His tail twirled behind him. One of his favorite things to do was rise high, tuck his wings in close, and nose dive. This he did, speeding down and choosing a path directly down the falling water–not expecting Wymeth to shoot up through the mist right in his path! He quickly twisted, wings flaring and pumping to move out of the way. His back and tail splashed through the waterfall while his wide wingspan momentarily formed a concave around Wymeth as she zoomed by. Saboth rumbled deeply in his chest, that had been a close call, but still fun. Having lost all momentum, Saboth steered away from the thundering falls and flew along the shore of the river--he didn't want to risk running into any of the other dragons that may have tried to follow Wymeth's trick (especially a brown or a bronze, that would be painful.)

One, two wing beats and he rose high enough to do a sharp barrel roll, flinging droplets of water off his body in a haze of tiny prismatic rainbows. It was annoying to fly while wet afterall. He craned his neck around–there she was, going over the trees now. Saboth winged over the green tops, staying low. His multi-hued hide stood out easily against the green tops, just as when he looked up at her, the green stood out against the pale blue sky—

—See! He knew she was coming down. F'lix nimbly dodged around the few weyrfolk as he approached the series of stairs leading down from the drum tower. He intersected the stairs at a point lower than where R'el and R'wign stood, not bothering to spare them a glance, but recognizing that they had been closer to the green, hn. F'lix feet touched stone he slowed his pace–but only to get his bearings. He quickly picked up his pace again because Wymeth's was running and her dash triggered him to chase. He would not catch her, because she had to choose, but he didn't want to get left behind either..

The river just ahead – Would she jump?

[Requiem]

Swirling back through her own chasers, was she? Inocenth's teeth flashed briefly - snarl? - but there was no sound to accompany it. Two-tail alone was enough to irritate Inocenth. Pathetic, weak thing, and that the green acknowledged that annoyed even more. But if she liked weak...that wasn't his problem, now was it? The promise of an interesting Flight seemed to have been...misjudged. Pity. He wouldn't cede to the other males now though, not after he'd already joined.

No possible way was he going to allow the pathetic Two-Tail, high-flying Sparkles (who clearly lacked in creativity), or the bumbling Coward down below to claim bragging rights simply because Inocenth had lost interest. He didn't necessarily believe he'd win otherwise, but he did believe that he could outfly the others. Whether Wymeth chose the best or not was her own business.

She came on a course directly for him, the budding spring-hued creature built noticeably larger and stronger than Inocenth when viewed so close together. Tucking his trim wings tight against his side, he showed his experience in reading her direction, banking the other direction and daring to allow his tail to trace lightly down one flank in their passing. The bank turned into a nosedive, Inocenth dropping low to keep himself from giving into temptation and shredding the pathetic one's wings. He had such little tolerance for cowards. But then...the bigger coward was down below. Another tempramental hiss as Inocenth slashed past, rounding beneath the bronze's belly. He reached out with one clawed foot, sooo tempted.

Flight. Chase. She wasn't a Fort green, to be Impressed by his marking the other males, though that wasn't an uncommon practice for Inocenth. Coiling around Kreyanth's underbelly, he shot back upward with the aid of a parallel thermal, sideskipping into a downdraft just as Wymeth rose towards the heavens again. Inocenth pulled a wing and circled her path and the thermal altogether, arcing in a loop over the stalled Saboth. He plunged to the very surface of the river, so close that his belly dragged the water, slowing him. Inocenth growled as an unseen rock caught his foreleg, spilling a small puddle of ichor that was gone before it could fully manifest. He thrashed, compact wings flapping at a speed that defied the eye, and suddenly he was rising at a breakneck pace back into the air.

Through the droplets Sparkles was getting everywhere.

Spring drifted high, as if she knew what an image she cut against the sky. Desire rose again (probably because she wasn't catering to Two-Tail anymore) and Inocenth climbed up past her before drifting to one side in what was a lazy barrel roll for the small dragon.

They were there before him...on another set of stairs. F'ur wasn't too upset; no, the Flight wasn't about to end just yet, and he really only needed to be near Sp..Wym...Vashti. Vasti. He only needed to be near her when it ended, really, in the event that she chose Ino. F'ur couldn't help but be amused by the male's malicious thoughts - and proud of the blue's self-control. Thus far the only one he'd hurt was himself, despite the opportunities he'd already had. He also couldn't help but battle with himself for a few moments, wanting to veer toward the other chasers and 'help' them down the side of the cliff. Ever-practical Inocenth insisted that Wymeth would have to choose one dragon, and if there was only one left...

But F'ur was not of that stripe, and Inocenth didn't command him so much that it was a real decision...it just caused him pause. That pause, however, gave him the idea, and he sprinted, clearing the distance to the nearest weyrledge. Rolling, the bluerider hardly slowed, taking the ledges in quick succession. Spotting one below, he jumped, twisting midair and catching the ledge he'd been standing on with his hands before dropping down. In this way he angled toward the fleeing rider, descending the cliff at the same time. Wait, was she going toward that ledge?

Without pausing to think, he increased his speed, the distance far enough that his heels hung in space and he pitched forward onto one hand, darting toward her from what amounted to a runner's start. Finally! Only...she was about to go into the water, wasn't she? He'd bet marks on it.

[lokath]

The lumbering bronze, while nowhere near exhaustion, was still lagging behind. The mindpair was beginning to consider… alternative options to Chasing. R’el in particular was bent on the idea of dropping out, for the sole reason that Kreyanth should never have started Chasing in the first place. No, he would not be able to return to the practice, but Kreyanth needed to learn that he could not simply take to the skies after every green with a bright hide. While Kreyanth was still focused solely on Chasing his Wymeth, the cold reality was beginning to sink in. Without a radical change in strategy from him or the green, the Flight was simply going to be impossible for him to win. A green would never Choose a dragon that had lagged behind the whole flight.

On the ground, R’el tried to dissuade Kreyanth by providing a mental resistance of sorts. Though all the bones in his body cried out to dive down the slope following Wymeth’s, the bronze rider somehow managed to resist, climbing to his feet from the fall and walking at a slow, although certainly not sedate, pace down the stairs. While a valiant attempt, any possibility of it’s success was shattered by Wymeth’s aerial decision to flip about. Being quite a bit behind the other Chasers at this point, the bronze now had arguably the best position, and a decent amount of wiggle room for impressing the green on his own. Ignoring Inocenth as the blue flew dangerously close, Kreyanth executed an excellent turn, spinning and flipping almost as if tied to an invisible tether in midair.

As Kreyanth turned, R’el suddenly lost all free will again, and slid down the slope as fast as possible. Landing on his feet, he sped towards Wymeth’s on the ground, the woman, in her own right a vision of beauty, by this time already by the ledge. Would she take flight as well, beside her other self? There was no doubt in the bronze rider’s mind that if she did, he would follow. As Kreyanth himself neared the waterfall, the bronze swept down, tail skimming and skipping against the river. Taking advantage of his strength and incomparable endurance, Kreyanth sank his fore claws into a rock that rested on the riverbed, just before the waterfall itself.

His momentum serving him well, Kreyanth lost little speed as the boulder came free easily, and what he did was quickly regained. As the waterfall fell below him, he dove, following his Wymeth closely, his nose very nearly touching the green’s tail. His wings pressed tight against his side, the bronze sped bulletlike, carrying his boulder and gaining speed that would be invaluable for regaining the height he had lost. As the river below rushed up and Wymeth returned to the skies, Kreyanth snapped his wings open, letting the boulder fall into the pool at the bottom of the falls. A tremendous splash roared up, the bronze seeming to erupt from the middle of it as he caught the updraft, nearly launching upward to catch his Wymeth, droplets of water falling from his hide.

[glamourie]

Eek. She was flying so… elegantly. He felt silly in comparison, and Checkoth wasn’t a graceful creature by nature. Especially not in comparison to most greens. The best he could do was a mingling of speed and agility that most bronzes couldn’t match and stamina to outdo most blues… a mixture of both worlds, but not quite special in either department. He wasn’t stupid: he’d learned not to follow greens exactly and also not to try and mimic their agile movements. He couldn’t compare. So he had to show off in his own way. Typically, Checkoth’s manner of showing his interest was just oodles and oodles of enthusiasm. Peppeth showed him quite well how graceless he actually was (though no doubt she didn’t mean to). Wymeth’s ascent drew a more pleasant croon from his throat and he swirled, twisting onto his side to give her a wider berth so as not to collide (in a comical imitation of their human halves, no doubt). The steady thrumming was encouraging enough and Checkoth’s eyes whirled happier shades, the hints of worry vanishing; if she was sure she’d be okay, and then he’d trust her. He just would never forgive himself if he allowed Wymeth to become hurt… and it would be his fault, because it was his job to protect Wymeth since Qualuth wasn’t there!

The light brush of her hide against his brushed away much of his worries, and Checkoth swerved, spinning around and around after the much more agile green. One thing could be said: he was good at spinning. And he liked doing that, simply because it made him look more impressive than he actually was. So it was that Checkoth followed Wymeth – albeit behind her, simply because he wasn’t as fast as the blues in the chase, though he was sure that he could surpass the bronze that he knew to be following in terms of speed. His gaze followed Wymeth’s movements, though it shifted onto Inocenth… and another trace of worry filled multifaceted orbs; this time, though, it wasn’t for Wymeth hurting herself, but rather for him hurting her. That dragon reminded him of the ones who hurt His. Dragons like that couldn’t be trusted. Those who hurt His weren’t even really dragons, they were monsters. He didn’t like the idea of being so near to a monster. They always hurt the people who mattered.

His eyes took on an uncharacteristically scarlet edge and Checkoth swerved, still doing quick spins as they approached the waterfall, but he didn’t drop with her to the water; instead, Checkoth zoomed at the side, still keeping Wymeth in his sights. He knew better. Water was evil, it was. It made him fly into things. He’d show her that he was worthy of her but not with the water so close. There were… other things… to consider. His gaze flicked to Inocenth, and just to be sure that he was safe, Checkoth actually swerved to put more distance between himself and the other chasers… and Wymeth by proxy. It kept Inocenth further away from him. Monsters couldn’t be allowed to come too close. He was just enough R’wign to be judgmental and in that moment he did not like the other blue. It might have passed – perhaps – when his mind was not as tightly woven with his rider’s. And it might not.

The flightpath took them closer to the forest, and Checkoth’s gaze dropped. He chose that moment to snap his wings in and drop toward the trees below. It was a risky move, but Checkoth wasn’t terribly worried; he’d almost been able to follow Amith right through the jungle, so why not graze it? A loud splash from behind almost drew his attention. Almost. But he would not be distracted by splashes and noise. Across the tree tops Checkoth turned, twisting into an over-and-under tumble that had his claws, wings and tails all clipping the leaves, tossing the loose ones up around him in a splay of green-and-brown. There was nothing aggressive above the movement, but it was playful – almost like the dragon version of leaping into a pile of leaves to watch them fly all around him. Any other time, he would’ve invited Wymeth to play in the leaves, too – but… the invitation was clear in its own way, wasn’t it?

Flying over head. Someone was flying over his head. R’wign turned his head to watch R’el go with a detached sort of amusement that was half him, half Checkoth; didn’t he know better than to try to fly? He was a human, humans couldn’t fly. The smile that went over his face was decidedly unpleasant and R’wign clicked his tongue softly. It lasted a second, before Vashti’s movements caught his attention and the feeling of her teeth brushing his skin made him shiver. The sound that escaped him was barely human, but it was entirely R’wign who enjoyed that contact. Checkoth didn’t relish the idea of being bitten… R’wign very much did. His eye narrowed into a slit as Vashti moved past him and he was tempted to touch her again – just to see if she’d bite him again. He didn’t get a chance, as she ran off ahead and he turned on his toes to follow at a much more leisurely pace. He was still R’wign enough to not want to go tumbling into the river, after all.

He also didn’t really believe Vashti would jump. The look on her face when he’d grabbed her was recognition; she had to still be in control enough not to think she could fly. The water below wasn’t safe for that kind of leaping. Optimism or practicality? Who knew – but R’wign had no intentions of going after her if she was fool enough to jump. He liked being in one piece, thank you very much.

[neeuqtar]

She wasn't tired. She didn't feel tired! Vash-hers always complained of soreness, but that term had no meaning for Wymeth. The green dragon was fully capable of flying until her muscles refused to move and she simply dropped, limp, from the skies, as physically dead as she could be while still perhaps being alive--provided, of course, that her lungs did not collapse, nor her heart burst. There was no "pushing past" the pain. There was merely flying until one could no longer support.

So it was that Wymeth's whole self rebelled against submitting, being carried. Was she not the strongest, the fastest, the best dragon in the air? Yet instinct demanded that she choose a male, and soon, before they grew too tired to bear her weight, before her muscles tore with stiffness and the pounding of her hearts became a thrum more powerful than the booming of drumbeats through the canyon. With a slight whine of annoyance (too quiet to be heard above the rushing wind, even by her own ears) the pale green dragon folded her wings and dropped, the air rushing past her as she free-fell.

---

They were so close! She had intended to pause, to back up and gauge the height before deciding to take the river or the stairs. But there was no time, no time--Inocenth's was right there on her heels, leaping for her, and she had to decide in an instant. Wymeth dove, and the force of her mind tilted Vashti's choice. She sprinted, running on the balls of her feet, hair lashing behind her in golden waves. At the lip of the ledge she took a half-skip step before leaping forward and out, body tucking tight into a flip before arching out into a dive, plummeting the twenty feet into the river and narrowly missing a rock jutting from the frothing river.

The blond woman appeared above the rushing river, tossing her hair back as she burst up to grab a breath. With strong strokes, she swam for the first land she saw--a small isle without any buildings, scarcely three dragonlengths back from the falls. She hauled herself up, glancing back with a sly smile. Let them come too close now...

---

Wide wings snapped wide long before necessary. She didn't want to fight for altitude, not when she would be falling again so soon, under the wings of another. A dragon of her choosing. Fluting a wild call, she raked in the wind at the leaves far below her, part of her wishing perhaps that she could play in the leaves as Checkoth did. But instead of daring to do so, she sought a thermal, finding one above a clearing and flaring her wings, shooting upwards, spiraling up into the sky, thinking swiftly as she rose into the air.

The bronze had lagged so long. His twists to evade Inocenth were impressive, particularly for a creature of his size, and to lift the boulder--impressive indeed! But he had taken so long to put the effort into her Flight, and that irritated Wymeth. He was Chasing, should he not do his very best to Win her? It did not seem like he cared much.

Checkoth--she liked Check. He was sweet, and made her laugh, and his two tails were very cute and endearing. She had a little bit of a thing for tails, and hers was rather boring and rudder-like. And he had been so worried about her! Though... she couldn't decide if that was good or bad. He didn't take risks, didn't challenge himself for her like the other did. And Saboth, too, was sweet. She liked sweet dragons--they were having fun, they were! And she liked fun. But she wanted them to fly to their fullest, and it seemed that they were playing more than... competing. Showing off, though, she liked...

...Inocenth. He was dark and terrifying, and though he had refrained at first from her Flight... he was clearly willing to do whatever it took to win her. And the prospect of whatever it took was as entrancing as it was frightening. But... it was a black creature she had awoken with her ire.

She roared her complaint at necessity to the sky, before folding her wings and dropping slightly, flicking them out to whip to the side. Wymeth had no desire to trust her form to another, to submit and twine, but instinct demanded actions so strange and so commanding. She needed it. She wanted it. Her eyes red-violet, she called to Checkoth. Carry me on the wings of wind! And she let herself fall to him.

---

Part of Vashti shied away from Wymeth's choice; part was delighted. It was her choice, too, was it not? She stood, knee-deep in the rushing water, soaked: her light dress tangled around her legs, clinging and almost invisible from the water. With a wicked smile, Vashti crooked her finger in the general direction of her males before grabbing the bottom of her dress and yanking it off. She wore no underclothing but a breastband; no shoes at all. And she had made her choice...