Cyclone Wing Drills

[llew]

It had been a few days since the other wings had begun their drills, but no word had yet come from Wingleader R'non; no summons for the Cyclone wing. It was as good a time as ever to exercise a little delightful authority for once, and as wingsecond, N'tia was perfectly happy to have the opportunity to play
substitute head-honcho. A little responsibility would be good for him: his days were getting to be more and more a dull routine of wash dragon, oil dragon, eat, sleep, wash dragon. . .

A light smack to the back of his head brought the bronzerider abruptly from his uncharacteristically cheery thoughts. He turned in time to see a bronze tail snaking back to its sedate coil in the sand.

:"Mine, you have been tightening the leathers for a good ten minutes now. I can hardly breathe as it is, and you will snap my ribcage at this rate,:" rumbled an irritated but bemused Kirayuth. He hadn't seen His so happy in a long time, and truth be told, it was slightly unnerving.

"Oh, sorry old man, I quite forgot myself." Smiling to himself, the bronzerider loosened the straps appropriately, and patted his dragon's flank.

Earlier in the day he had decided to embark on a little experiment, presumably in the name of science, but more appropriately a personal investigation of "what's a goldrider got that I haven't?" He shouldered a flamethrower he had pinched from the ground crews last threadfall, and smirked to himself as he hoisted himself onto his dragon's back. Firestone vs. Flamethrower. . . This would be fun.

"All right, Kirayuth, summon the troops," N'tia crowed good-naturedly. The bronze's eyes whirled a rapid green as he sent out a mental call.

:"Cyclone Wing, assemble at the practice grounds. Our drills have been long overdue.":

- - -

('cause Randeh said I should):

Attendance List

WL Bronzerider R'non of Rath
WS Bronzerider N'tia of Kirayuth
Brownrider K'von of Dohulth
Bluerider F'con of Jackreth
Bluerider NPC
Bluerider NPC
Greenrider Juliya of Eriannath
Greenrider J'fer of Ranth
Greenrider Lauranna of Reysalth

[reqqy]

Reysalth slid through the sky sinuously, enjoying the pleasant warmth and light breeze. They could have Betweened. What was the point, though, in such pleasant weather. Besides, it was Kirayuth, and they could take their time a little with him. Rath was another matter entirely. Don't tell me you're still upset that a bronze less than half your age is seconding. I'm not upset, the green replied cheerily. Just looking forward to spending the rest of my turns in Between because the poor thing can't tell his snout from his tail. Lauranna rolled her eyes at the happy lilt coming from her dragon. Reysalth was ever so much worse than her when it came to biting sarcasm. Or biting in general. Just behave yourself. Don't I always?

Lauranna was much more sober than normal, now that there was a noticeable flit-sized hole in the consciousness she'd grown used to. Depressed? Not really, but she certainly wasn't her normal bouncy self. At any rate, she wasn't quick to dismount when Reysalth came to a graceful landing a short distance from Kirayuth. She'd cut that landing pretty close, too, out of pure malice. No bronze could have managed that. Of course, Reysalth was no fan of bronzes. Arrogant creeps. Nor did she care for the overzealous, demonstrative blues who attempted to match her in the air. Silly things. Reysalth most definitely liked her solid browns. Oh yes. She cast a nasty little glance at the young bronze, bending to allow Lauranna access to the ground.

The small woman climbed down with less than her usual energy, sweeping off her helmet and shaking out the mass of curls bound in a topknot. Her green eyes flicked to the young wingsecond, then presently came back to center on him with her full attention, her mouth working for a moment. The woman was trying very, very hard not to laugh. Even so, her eyes completely gave her away, as they danced with amusement. N'tia had...a flamethrower? Now, she could perhaps find a reason for it if there had been any goldriders in the Cyclone wing, but of course there weren't. Reysalth and Laurie were never assigned to queen wings; they were far too valuable up at the higher altitudes.

Lauranna couldn't resist closing the distance between them, her eyes flicking up and down his torso for a moment before coming to center on his face. Oh, she'd always been bad about flirting with the young ones. He was, what? Ten turns her junior? The woman reached out and poked him in the bicep, her eyes widening artfully. "Wingsecond N'tia - is that a flamethrower I see?" Her hand drifted over to lie flat on one pectoral. "Huh. You seem to be all man, but..." Shrugging, she smiled slightly. "Apparently you have a secret wish to be a goldrider. Let me tell you something no one else has probably realized yet." Glancing first one direction, then the other, she raised up on to tiptoes, speaking in a stage whisper. "You're not a woman, Wingsecond."

Settling back on her heels, she smiled a smug little smile, and Reysalth snorted from her spot a short distance away.

[llew]

Did the entire planet realize they were young and green? Well, it was time to show Pern that they had the gut, if not the experience, worthy of commanding a wing in the absence of its Wingleader. However, the bronzepair was having a bit of rocky start to their first drill.

Kirayuth eyed Reysalth cautiously, his eyes flashing a murky orange for a splitsecond as she flaunted the lithe mobility that came with her color. But the steadily whirling green returned as his second lids flicked closed, then open again. He was not about to let himself be insulted by a mere green. . . but there was no reason to be uncivil. He raised his neck to its full height, nodded politely in her direction, then just as politely pretended to forget her existence.

N'tia, meanwhile, welcomed the return of his characteristic scowl to keep his flush of embarrassment at bay. First Savitri, now this. . . women had a knack for humiliating him. He had not entirely realized how out-of-line he was in imitating -- even lightly challenging -- the Weyrwoman, nor had he quite expected to be likened to her sex. He cleared his throat lightly as his mouth worked at its hinges and his mind hurriedly swept through possible excuses; the "experiment" had abruptly lost its appeal.

He admitted defeat. "Oh, this? This is my mistake. I had thought. . . rather, I had not thought. My apologies." He gently but firmly removed her hand from his chest, unslinging the flamethrower from around his shoulders. He briefly considered having Kirayuth whisk them between to someplace where he was not currently a fool of fools, but thought better of it. He was Benden-born after all, and he would man up. He tossed the device aside, making a mental note to replace it in storage and never touch the dastardly thing again.

He turned back to Lauranna and forced himself to smile weakly. "Thank you for the lesson, schoolmaster, I quite forgot myself for the second time today."

[glamourie]

We are to assemble at the prac-- JuliyaMine, I very highly doubt Kirayuth's will like it if we are late because you have to be a girl.

"Kirayuth's? N'tia? What happened to R'non?" Juliya inquired, ignoring the scathing tone her green took as she stood next to her furs and continued to elaborately braid her long brown hair. She'd just bathed and whether the Wingsecond liked it or not, she was fully intending to make sure her hair did not frizz up and resemble something like a creature from the forest; as the stories young Weyrbrats often told were prone to involve. She finished the long braid and then wound it into a knot, before securing her hair with a plain metal clip that held it up and far from in her face. Appearance was only half the reason of her primping; the other half was because if she didn't tie her hair back she might be scolded for her indiscretion. She didn't know N'tia, but bronzeriders in her experience picked the most asinine things to comment upon.

Satisfied with the way her hair looked, Juliya secured her riding gear and climbed onto Eriannath, earning a low croon from the green as she answered, Perhaps he is busy? Or you could ask Kirayuth yourself? She fluttered her wings prettily and then threw herself from the ledge of her weyr, gliding easily on the wind.

Juliya was in a bad mood. Anyone who knew her would be able to pick up on it. Only a day previous, her blue firelizard Rain had gone between for the last time, after nearly a sevenday of being rigid and tense, foaming at the mouth and refusing to eat. It was a stressful experience for the young woman, who had grown quickly fond of the firelizards -- both of her wonderful pets. Rain was gone, but Shine remained, although the brown would rarely leave his spot in Juliya's furs. He was depressed. Soon, he'd forget, but Juliya wouldn't. She didn't like feeling helpless, and having to watch all of her efforts to save her beloved pet fail so magnificently was one of the worst sensations she'd endured. She'd tried feeding him forcefully, and giving him water, she'd tried oiling him more and spending constant time around him, and nothing seemed to work. The firelizard just grew sicker and --

That thought was blocked from her mind, as Eriannath landed gracefully a ways away from Kirayuth and Reysalth. The green pleasantly crooned before bending down to allow hers to dismount, and the second Juliya was on the ground, she nudged her, causing the brunette to stumble and shoot her a scolding look.

I stand corrected. Primp all you like; we evidently are not late, Eriannath offered pleasantly, her eyes whirling. She was perfectly oblivious to any tension between the others that had already arrived, but then, when was Eriannath anything other chan cheerful? Her wings snapped to her sides and she flopped down into a lazy, sprawled position. She'd get up once they had instructions, but for the moment, she was quite content to lay around. She was also quite content to enjoy the fact that there were not very many others around. More room for her to stretch - and less chance of her and Juliya being punished for her rider's silly girly habits...

Righting herself, Juliya folded her hands behind her back and started toward N'tia and Lauranna when something caught her eye. She blinked, curious, and then started toward it before asking; she couldn't help herself. "Are we covering ground drills, Wingsecond...?" It wasn't meant to be malicious and, if she'd known that Lauranna had been teasing him only moments before it, Juliya probably would have held her tongue. Alas, ignorance was bliss.

[Tashe]

Stretching his wings with out a shred of true energy, the darkened Blue yawned decisively before relaying a message to his Mine. /Conmine, I believe we have wingtraining today. Kirayuth has called a Summons for the Cyclone wing./ N'tia? I wonder whats with R'non these days... Heh. Only the soft click of a man's boots alerted the Blue to F'con's presence as he appeared on the landing perch. "Lets get 'er done." Tossing his black hair before placing his foot in the appropriate spot, the seasoned Bluerider jumped his way up to his leathers. It didn't take long, a few moments to be exact, to get himself strapped in and ready to go. /Go time?/ Go time. Bending forward as Jackreth pushed himself off of the ledge, the Bluerider waited until they were gliding at a smooth pace before he withdrew a pair of tinted riding goggles from the inside of his jacket. Fixing them securely to his head, F'con sighed unhappily as their short flight began to come to an end, their landing place coming into sight. Kicking his boot into the Blue's side, the man used his hands to gesture where they were going to land, it was a language they were practicing for when mental speaking would be distracting.

Bracing his legs in the leathers as Jackreth stretched his limbs toward the ground, F'con bounced slightly as they touched down. Unstrapping his leg leathers so he could sit sidesaddle, the Bluerider swung his leg over so that he was facing the others. Lauranna and Juliya had already arrived, not to mention N'tia was already there, but what would one expect for being one of the first to arrive. /A flamethrower?/ What? Switching his vision toward the Wingsecond, F'con couldn't help but raise an eyebrow in wonder. I don't know boy, I don't know. I suppose by the look on N'tia's face, our dear Brother's gal just gave him a talk about it. /Huh! To bad Styth enjoys Reysalth's company, she's rather pretty./ Rolling his eyes at his Blue's statement, the Rider lapsed into a quite watchfulness. How he was going to serve under a barely-legal-dragonriding-youngster was beyond him, he would much rather have a seasoned Greenrider step in for R'non rather than the boy.

/I suppose we should give him a chance./ Snorting in response, F'con almost dismissed the notion, but the fact N'tia was at a higher rank drew the thought back in. At Fort, only seasoned Dragonriders were even considered for Wingseconds, but here even young ones were considered. /I wonder if he has any fighting experience./ Another snort was put forth. If that one has enough fighting experience to impress us... then I shall eat my shoe. /He did come from Benden... and by Farnath we know E'rro can fight as well as us./ He was specially trained... I suppose we'll just have to see.

[kysseh]

'Long overdue' might be a bit of an understatement. a very good-natured Dohulth commented to His after hearing the summons from their... wingsecond. Really, where was the wingleader? Dohulth remembered enough to know that an experienced bronze usually lead a wing. However, that did not sound like any wise bronze that he knew, and it rather bothered the normally easygoing brown. Strange their wingleader would not summon them, and K'von's thoughts echoed that strain. Mine, you had better be gentle on that hand.

Dohulth's remonstration was well-placed, for K'von was about to use the still-bandaged hand to work on the straps. The brownrider guiltily removed it. The stitches were long-since out, but the hand still needed careful tending, and yanking around on things with it was not likely to encourage good healing. With that in mind, he used the undamaged right hand to finish checking over his straps. It was paranoia to check it as many times as he did, but K'von had had enough near-falling scares to have a healthy fear of tumbling right off. His straps were always well-maintained, and he always took a few extra seconds to inspect every bit before mounting. "Forgot," he mumbled to his dragon before dragging the sacks of firestone--one-handed, of course--over to his dragon's side. That was a more difficult task to do with only one functional hand, but, thankfully, they only needed minimal firestone for drills. If it had been for Threadfall, he would have been in sorry, sorry shape indeed.

The gray-brown dragon offered up a snort of gentle recrimination and then lifted a foreleg, gratified when his rider mounted without a great deal of difficulty. You always forget. I'm beginning to think that your recent surge of energy in hanging around a certain greenrider is making your brain die. the brown teased as he flared open his massive wings and lazily dropped over the edge of his ledge. He so enjoyed picking on his, and the indignant mental 'splutterings' that K'von offered forth only added to the brown's amusement. Truthfully, the small brown could offer forth no real complaints on the topic of K'von's new..... interest. Her dragon was rather attractive, after all....

Laugh it up, Wherryface. You know you're enjoying it. K'von groused right back, grinning a bit as the brown gained some altitude and soared almost lazily toward their practice ground. As they drew closer, he noted that they were not the first to arrive. The flamethrower did not escape his attention, and he almost groaned at the thought of being ordered around by an inexperienced slip of a bronzerider. The man was.... maybe near his age? Probably much greener, though. Really... flamethrowers were for the queens, not for a bronze. The brownrider fervently hoped there had been some misunderstanding, though he doubted it. Even as Dohulth made a graceful landing and tucked in his wings, K'von tried to figure out a way to escape and came up... rather empty on ideas. The brownrider reluctantly dismounted and patted his dragon's neck, striding closer to investigate what was going on. Behind him, Dohulth offered a low rumble of greeting for the others, calm and laidback as ever. This could not be nearly as bad as K'vonHis feared, could it?

[llew]

"We are not, Greenrider Juliya," he responded crisply to her question. Realizing the rudeness that could have accompanied such a curt remark, he softened, lowering his tone confidentially. "It is an embarassing tale, actually, so I will spare you all the sordid details. Pretend it is not there. Gone. Vanished."

Now N'tia was torn: on one hand, it insulted him that his wingmates seemed to be taking their precious time in responding to the call. On the other, he was secretly glad they showed up at all. He surveyed the newly arrived dragons and riders, conducted a quick headcount, and deduced that they were only missing the greenrider J'fer, besides the obvious absence of R'non and Rath. Despite the missing pairs, he decided that they would begin, and he addressed the assembled riders in his best imitation of a knowledgable authority.

"As you all have probably noticed with dismay, I am not Wingleader R'non. In all honesty I have no idea where he has got to, but let's put on a brave face in his absence, eh?" He licked his lips nervously, too aware that he and his dragon were at least five turns younger than most of the wing. Thank Faranth he was not a man to stutter under pressure. But was he talking too much? Too fast? Should he skip the pleasantries, drape on the surliness, act the macho, capable bit? Kirayuth nudged his arm gently. :"Don't worry about them, Mine, but do get on with it before they stage a coup.":

"Anyway," he continued hurriedly, "to business." He squatted abruptly, and began to trace in the sand with a finger, narrating his plans as he did so.

"Nothing fancy here, as to format: we have an odd number of riders, so a traditional V will suit our purposes fine." His mind raced, swiftly recalling the formation R'non had used in the past. The wings had been shuffled since, but he knew the logic behind large-small dragon pairings in the formation, and he was a quick improviser besides.

"Wingleader R'non and Rath will make up the point of our V, naturally. Behind, on his left, will stem first Bluepair R'tier and Grenalith (NPC), myself and Kirayuth, bluepair F'con and Jackreth, and greenpair Lauranna and Reysalth at the left tail end." N'tia congratulated himself on his placement of the greenrider; he acknowledged her skill and experience, and hopefully she would recognize a peace offering when she saw it. Besides, it would keep her far away from him.

"Next, on the right, bluepair G'hol and Satireth (NPC), greenpair J'fer and Ranth, greenpair Juliya and Eriannath, and brownpair K'von and Dohulth at the right tail end." He stood, appraising the formation diagram himself before looking up.

"In the absence of R'non, we will keep to the formation as best we can, ignoring the point. It seems greenrider J'fer has also failed to make an appearance this afternoon, but we'll make due. Any questions?" His eyes half-challenged the ranks to object to their placement.

[reqqy]

Not allowing her to continue touching him? Oh, but that was a shame! Silly men. It wasn't as if she was looking to bed him, now. Had a quite nice younger man to occupy a weyr with, thank you very much, and he wasn't nearly as green as this kid. A brow rose mildly at his awkwardness. Man, oh man, she hoped R'non and Rath pulled it together and took over the rest of the training. By the egg, this was going to be interesting. And potentially life-threatening. See what I mean? Reysalth commented smugly. Okay. So the rider's kind of out to lunch. But maybe Kirayuth will be better? Who? The b- you wherry! You're messing with me! The green was attempting not to let her amusement trickle through their link, but she wasn't entirely successful.

Reysalth hadn't even bothered to return Kirayuth's nod, as he clearly intended to snub her by ignoring her existance. Well, two could play at that game, at least until they took to the air. It wasn't as if she had an ounce of respect for the hatchling, anyway. Bronzes. Arrogant twits.

Lauranna couldn't help but laugh at N'tia. "This has happened twice? Goodness, N'tia. That's not very comforting." Oops. She should have called him 'wingsecond,' but it was just so hard when he was such a - well, an adolescent. Or very nearly one. Didn't they have any other bronzes or browns - if they had to go by that silly color thing - who might be a bit more experienced to second for Rath? That was when Juliya walked up, clearly as amused as Laurie herself had been in regard to the flamethrower. The greenrider's nose wrinkled at the other woman's comment. Poor guy was probably going to hear something from every one of his wing. Strangely, she couldn't quite feel bad.

Ah, and here came F'con and a brownrider Lauranna only vaguely remembered as a transfer. Wait a second. She took a closer look, then suddenly broke out into a huge grin. That greyish-brown dragon with the long wings, and the tall man who seemed to be nursing a hand. That had to be Kali's K'von! Laurie suppressed a snicker. Oh, this could be fun. Too bad N’tia launched right into his explanation. She had fully intended to have some fun with these males. The way Reysalth was eyeing Dohulth clearly indicated trouble, as well. She had her Styth just as Laurie had her Rah, but neither half of the greenpair minded a little flirting. As the whole weyr seemed to know.

Lauranna’s brow rose as the wingsecond started talking about brave faces. That…was funny. Does he think we’re frightened of flying without the great bronze Rath? Oh dear, how did I ever manage so many turns without that bronze?! Laurie couldn’t help it. She snickered. “Be good,” she murmured to the green, under her breath. “You’re making me laugh at the poor boy.” Well, we certainly can’t have that. He might throw a fit, and since apparently Selenitas feels that bronzes are needed to lead a wing – even if they’re barely hatched – we’ll be grounded. She stretched her wings, quite accidentally brushing Dohulth and crooning an apology to the brown. And I’d be quite disappointed if I didn’t get to fly with this lovely creature. Her rider rolled her eyes.

They were so entirely absorbed in their own thing that they didn’t quite register what N’tia had done at first. Laurie blinked at him. She hadn’t at all expected the kid to use them in this manner, though it made strategic sense. Shards, because it made strategic sense. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all? Oh, Mine, you silly thing. You honestly believe Kirayuth’s came up with that? This has the hand of Rath’s written all over it. Well, yes, that did make more sense, didn’t it? Laurie prodded K’von lightly in the ribs. “Guess we’re going to be watching everyone’s backs, brownrider.” Then she leaned in, lowering her voice. “Hear you’ve been doing a lot of that with a certain dragonhealer lately. Don’t make me jealous, now!” And she was already darting around to Reysalth’s other side to prepare to mount, not giving him a chance to respond.