Surrounded. (PLOT)

[Avu]

There is a stupid child who feels it necessary to take everything I say literally and yell herself silly, MeiraMyLove.

The chill in Jingth’s voice was almost painfully icy, and the look that she turned (if only briefly) on Yoalla was undeniably irritated before she swished her tail dismissively and turned back to the group of people who weren’t stupid. She knew it was kind of rich for her to be calling anyone a ‘child’ when Meira was actually so young, but that hardly stopped her. The gold coiled a little tighter, eyes half-lidded as she scanned the crowd again; she’d lost track of M’ta when the wherhandler had started – what, complaining, arguing? Millieth’s is also approaching, by the way, and I’m quite happy that at least Mimic’s ‘happyfixer’ has /some/ sense.

Too much going on at once. Just too much. Meira bounced slightly on the balls of her feet, anxiously, half-spinning around at Kaegan’s approach since X’rx seemed to be answering the wherhandler that had started arguing with Jingth (it would be a very one-sided argument if she expected only answers from Jingth, anyway, since the gold didn’t care to bespeak any random person) before she nodded gratefully at the Weyrwoman and at Erilena, taking a moment to arrange her thoughts as she hummed quietly for Riaren’s benefit, pressing a gentle kiss to the baby’s forehead again, soothingly. He was squirming, stuffing a fist into his mouth and whining softly, but she hadn’t the time to cheer him up completely at the moment.

“Okay, um – if anyone can help, then yes, please stay, but otherwise just – just move so that we have room – we are going to need people to actually bring the wounded back here if other people near them are…busy. If she can get, like – a jar of numbweed, or redwort, that’d be great?” she added, turning to R’ven and Bonnie hopefully; she wasn’t sure how much weight a green firelizard could carry but it shouldn’t be too much to ask.

’ruth’s, Jingth reminded her helpfully, and Meira pivoted again to face M’ta as the brownrider approached. His words made her eyes widen, startled; the Infirmary – but she was Senior Weyrling first, wasn’t she, and they had been told to come to the Hatching Sands. Not that the reasons had been explained, but she’d assumed there were reasons. Riaren hiccupped quietly against her shoulder, the baby’s eyes half-closed now as he nuzzled against her neck, and she shook her head in silent apology. They did need at least one actual Healer here, though she did feel bad about making M’ta come there, too.

“There’s not – not enough time to go back, is there?” she inquired softly, though even if there was – she wasn’t sure if she would. Over half the Weyr had to be in the Hatching Grounds; even if there were people who could provide first aide, it probably wasn’t enough. For Riaren, though, maybe; Kaegan didn’t have Kai with her and while it made her feel so, so much better knowing that he was there, okay, with her, the Hatching Sands wasn’t exactly the greatest place to be.

Sad, scary, babylove upset, Mimic replied to Dash as he scrambled from Riaren’s wrist onto Meira’s shoulder and rubbed his entire body against the goldrider’s neck, tongue flicking out to touch her jaw reassuringly. So scary, where goldyours and babyyours? He knew that Meira liked having everyone there, Riaren able to be touched and cuddled and Jingth physically close; why didn’t Dash’s have that too?

[kat]

Ari could hardly stand the sheer amount of people that were now occupying the sands. She was feeling restless and ill at ease, with a blind wher who was growing rapidly more irate by the minute, and a 'closed in' feeling. She had never exactly liked enclosed spaces or large groups of people. This felt like a dreadful combination of both, and it was too hot here for comfort besides. The night was her element, now, and this whole situation was just too much. She needed something to do, anything. As a wherhandler, she felt useless here. For the first time since she'd bonded Ariysk, she felt useless. The large bronze wher nudged her. Not useless, was the feeling she got from him, tinged with a defiant sort of resolution. She wished she had his resolve on that matter. To make matters worse, Roo was whimpering by her side, shifting from one paw to the next. But that was right! The sands would be too hot on her paws! Faced with the new problem, Ari suddenly felt helpless all over again. She had brought a pack, but what was in it? There was some hide in there, wasn't there? She had a piece of it that she played with Ariysk with, when they were alone. It was thick enough to protect against the sands, wasn't it? She took of the knapsack and sifted through it, finding pieces of woolen string and the hide, a knife that she kept on her at all times, like every handler. She could make do.

A few minutes later, there were pieces of hide, cut into rough squares, tied at the ankle around all four paws, tightly enough that they would not fall off, and the animal had stopped her restless, uncomfortable shifting. It looked kind of makeshift and silly, but it served its purpose. And none too soon, it would seem. The whers were to try and guard the other entrance? Her brows furrowed in concern. How would the mostly blind whers protect anything, when they were disorientated and couldn't even see to attack? Still, looking at Ariysk, she knew that he at least had a better chance at it than just about anything save perhaps the senior Weyrling's dragons. Maybe more, because ground fighting was what whers were best at. Besides, she could help, too. Still, she had to steel herself. This situation wasn't good. It got worse.

She could hear it even from inside the sands. Ariysk shifted, swinging his large bronze head around to look towards the direction of the sound. A dragon had broken the silence of the outside air with a scream, and she shuddered, her hackles raising. A tongue licked her hand as the canine by her side whimpered, tail giving a worried wag. She scratched behind the dog's ear, and quickly made her way to the entrance she and her wher were told to try and protect. Try would be the key word, for that would be all they could do. Besides, she was nervous, practically trembling in anticipation--and not of the good sort. She had heard stories of the battles that had occurred before her arrival, and they had been horror stories. Disasters. People had died, dragons had died. Injuries and tragedies, all over. Was she going to experience that first hand? She bit her lower lip as she watched, waited, and readied herself for whatever was to come. They would do what they could, and that was all anyone here could do.

~~~~~~

Kiana clutched the small crate that held the white feline in one hand, and the other lie on her young green's neck. The scream that had rent the air had caused the young Tuelzanth to tremble in fright, and only her mind-mates calm assurances that everything would be all right, coupled with a forced resolution of the truth of the fact, had calmed the green. Winter, in her crate, was not liking the situation any better. The feline was standing and peering out from between the makeshift wooden 'bars' with a plaintive expression on her pretty little face, mewling every so often as if to question why they were there, and what was going on.

"It'll be all right, both of you. The Cyclone wing is out there, and they'll make sure no one gets in. I'll never let anything happen--to either of you." Somehow, her voice didn't tremble, and managed to sound reassuring and full of confidence. Somehow, she managed to decide that she would not simply be a bystander, doing nothing but letting others protect them. She might not be a fighter, by any means, and yet that did not mean she couldn't help. There were hardly any healers present on the sands, and she could at least do basics, such as bandaging and even stitching if need be. Sure she could not set a bone or do anything more extensive, but if she steadied her resolve, she could handle the basics, and be of some use. It was better than doing nothing.

You will help Jingth's, mine?[/color] the pale green asked hers, suddenly seeming to grow calmer somehow. Right--the green liked golds, sort of. Thought they were 'pretty'. Even envied them their bright hides, if only a little, and never admittedly. 'Zanth was too sweet to ever speak ill of any or to be outright envious of them. Not her sweet, sweet green, who also always wanted to be of help to others. So, with a small smile, she nodded.

"That's right, I'm going to see if I can help. You be brave, because I'll need you to help me by staying calm and being brave, okay?" She scratched 'Zanth's left eye ridge, before walking towards where Meira and her gold were positioned. She hated to interrupt anyone, and yet it was kind of necessary to get the goldrider Weyrling's attention, and so, "excuse me, Meira?" She knew that the goldpair probably didn't know her from a trundlebug in the dirt, but still, everyone knew the names of Meira and Jingth, given their rank. "I'm not a healer, but I know basics. Can I help?" she offered, with a small smile.

Please let mine help! We can be helpful and I promise to be brave, too![/color] the small green quipped, practically dancing from one foot to the other, suddenly eager. It would also help take the young dragon's mind off of things, Kiana knew, but did not add. She hoped the answer would be favorable.

--T'lor and Shith are behind the whers, ready to do what they can. T'lor is angry at Fort's arrival, Shith is trying to act tough and brave, to 'protect his Jingth'.

--Talien is set to take on anyone who breaks through. With 'nothing to lose' as his attitude and a desire to protect his home, he wishes he had a wher by his side, even if he realizes that here they'd not be of much use, since it is daytime.

--Mihkal is quite nervous, and is nearby T'lor, wondering of what use he'll be. He can handle himself just like his cousin, as anyone who was of a caravan family can, and yet he doesn't know if he'd be able to take a life, or how useful he'll be. He feels very out of place here.

***feel free to interact with any of these characters!***[/size]

[glamourie]

If dragons could have laughed, Dreamyth would have. Oh ho ho. The bronzie had chased queens. Could a queen turn on her wingtip and tail? No, no they could not. Greens were more of a challenge for the sluggish brutes, and if he had two braincells to rub together, he’d know that. But of course he didn’t. Bronzes rarely did; it was why she loved toying with them. He went on to call them weaklings and cowards – it was highly amusing to Dreamyth. No, she was not going to drop to the ground and present herself an open target, did he think her daft? And her wingmates were not likely to either. They were not creatures ruled by pride and there were no bronzes among them. The group was led by a brown who thought with logic before emotion and it was why Selenitas would be forced to comply – plain and simple. She was not a creature who enjoyed pointless harms, but bronzie was going to be fun to make shut up. Really.

And letting her fly circuits around the hatching grounds had its cost: the green spotted the second, smaller entrance to the Stands and sent the image back to Ysaloth and the rest of her wing. That entrance wasn’t guarded by a gigantic lug.

Flame it, Ysaloth’s instructions came. We have trouble up here. Six dragons worth. Dreamyth restrained the urge to hiss. Six. There were almost as many of them, if she counted bronze lug. Fine. If they wanted to play hardball and not hand over the traitors, then they’d suffer. She turned on her wing, keeping the small, human-sized entrance in her sights. Her wings beat faster as Dreamyth circled the hatching sands quickly – so quickly that it was actually luck that kept her from being scratched by Inocenth. She danced clear out of his grasp, wicked amusement playing through her eyes before Dreamyth swiveled down and shot a steadily stream of flame into the unguarded entrance – the one small enough to hold only humans. To the blue, she silky said, Now see what you made me do? All your precious little protectees will burn, and all because you startled me. Silly blue. I remember you, Inocenth. And really, that was all that needed to be said before Dreamyth swiveled up – out of the reach of flames, near the top of the hatching grounds.

But those inside would be hard pressed to avoid the quick moving flames through the wooden stands built on the perimeter of the Sands. And that was the point.

High in the clouds, the Fort dragons assembled into formation. What remained (not counting Dreamyth) were two browns, two greens, and three blues. Ysaloth was acting leader. The arrival of the other dragons was analyzed with a critical gaze. What did such a small number hope to accomplish against them in the air? They were outmatched, certainly, but Ysaloth was not of the opinion that there was anything to be gained from a show of strength. Did he believe that he and His could destroy the disorganized Southern fools? Certainly. They hadn’t come with the intention of eliminating Selenitas entirely, though. They had strict orders, and he intended to follow them to the letter. That meant no fighting – merely… herding. And herd they would.

Do not waste your flame and claws on these fools! Follow me. And Ysaloth winked between – perhaps just in time to avoid Mirazeth’s attack. The cue he gave his dragons was simple: Lower. Now that they knew what Selenitas had to offer (fools had been so easily baited into revealing themselves…), they also knew what they were up against. It was obvious there were people in the Hatching Sands – perhaps their prey lay within. And they needed to come out. Dreamyth had opened the door; it was time to guide them all to walk right through it.

The second Ysaloth went between, so too did the rest of the Fort wing. The coordination was near flawless. The entire group came out of between directly above Morreliath, following Dreamyth’s visual aid. The pale brown immediately flamed – but not at Morreliath. It was directed next to him and trailed a steady, even line across the grassy ground – Selenitas was just perfect for burning. One of the blues followed suit on the other side, moving quickly, while the rest of the wing (save Dreamyth) assembled above, ready to strike. Dreamyth herself turned on her wings and flew ahead of the ‘pathway’ being quickly burnt into the ground. Her flames erupted to block off a path toward the weyrling barracks, limiting the amount of options for escape. They had to work quickly: Selenitas would be launching another ‘attack’ (the thought was laughable to them) any moment.

Our desire is not to fight you, Morreliath. What we seek is not aggression but merely compliance, and our request is not unreasonable. Those we seek are not your responsibility or burden to protect. If you comply with our requests, Selenitas need not lose any more dragonriders. You have given us your numbers; know that we are now at the advantage. Already your precious inhabitants risk burning and we have but begun. Your options are to comply or die. I would recommend acting quickly. Flames burn fast.

Ysaloth turned on his side and followed the ‘line’ of flames, making it longer with his fire. He stopped in the air, hovering, two of the blues at his side to protect from any and all attacks as he bespoke the dragon who appeared to be in charge. All perfectly reasonable, as far as he was concerned. He was not interested in any of Selenitas’s ranking riders, or anything special: he had very strict orders and he intended to follow them. The High Reaches fools were who they wanted – and a certain brownrider. Only one of them was Selenitas’s responsibility, and one person for the lives of hundreds was a very fair trade, in Ysaloth’s opinion. He did not want to have to kill them (they were but children in his eyes), but he and his dragons to command would if they were not obeyed.

[Ember]

Charming let out something similar to purr as his girl’s friend petted him. He rubbed his head against her cheek until she jumped slightly and he was forced to grip her clothes to keep his balance. Whoops. Much as he loved the attention he was distracting the girl at a rather important time, wasn’t he? He crooned to the others present and listened in on their conversation. A big man was among the group and he offered the assistance of his green firelizard. Charming fluted at Bonnie before he nosed Erilena’s neck and chirped inquiringly. Did she want him to get something too? He was a lot bigger than the little greenling. His had asked him to help if needed and it seemed important.

Kaaoloth asks us to listen to Morreliath, Nuoth informed Nephele. I think that means you are to listen to Morreliath’s too. The girl nodded and the pair got closer to the entrance but still behind the whers guarding it. What good, precisely, would they do? Everyone knew they were blind in the day. She jumped as dragons roared outside. Looks like everything was starting. She became aware of the stands on fire and grimaced. That couldn’t be good. There were a fair amount of people in them.

-----

Eikane sighed unhappily at Nautic’s tone. He didn’t like the bronzerider’s plans much either but there was little he could do about it. No matter what Eikask thought, a goldhandler didn’t have much authority at all. Not to mention the situation called for action and he’d provide what assistance he could. Between the crowds, the blindfold, and the fact that riders were attacking her weyr Eikask was beginning to get pretty annoyed with the whole situation. They were feeding off each other’s emotions and by the end of the day Eikane was sure he’d have a headache at the very least.

He was mildly surprised that his ‘orders’ were being followed. He watched the two people in the whole hatching grounds he hated to see put in danger most went to the stands entrance. He agreed with the majority view of wherhandlers so far: half asleep whers were not the best line of defence. He’d kill that bronzerider if anything happened to any of the whers or their handlers. The only thing that managed to rescue his mood at all was the reminder of the lunch Nautic had promised him. Despite the situation he grinned a bit. Be a really shame to die before that.

The bronze’s handler introduced himself as Piden and he nodded. “Could have wished for better circumstances though.” He was pleased to see that Eikask wasn’t trying to gain Pidesk’s attention. She knew there was something more important going on at the moment. She’d have time later, she’d make sure of it. Eikane shook his head. “I’ll take the middle -” he paused as S’kor gave them more orders, and he offered the bronze handler a slight smirk “- but could use your company too.” Eikane led his wher to the middle and waited to see whether or not Piden would join him. It was then that he noticed the stands were on fire. Shardit! His fellow wherhandlers better get out of there - and quick!

-----

Dy’shi looked at the knife in the sand for a moment before taking it warily. “Thanks,” he told the other boy genuinely. The thought of actually using it on another person made him kind of queasy truth be told. He didn’t like to hurt others, even if they meant him harm. He would put himself in harms way before allowing someone else to be hurt. Fighting really just wasn’t his thing. You won‘t have to fight, Chakraith told him gently. She wouldn’t let him get hurt. She wasn’t one for fighting either but she had no problem doing so to protect others, most especially Hers.

Dy’shi smiled sympathetically at his friend. “It’s not a bad idea. At least you probably won’t have to fight anyone and - whoa!” Chakraith was the one who had seen the flames first. She alerted Hers who in turn tugged at Eliah’s shirt. “Gotta move. It most definitely has started.”

[Ruby]

M'kai muffled a sigh as Megs stood up to Cry- now was NOT the time to prove a point. Luckily, his own approach seemed more useful. She might have yelled at him for a second, but more importantly, she was headed for Emoyan and the gathering candidates. As long as he didn't have to worry about her getting herself hurt, M'kai could worry about other things. Her profession of love was dismissed in the chaos, M'kai convinced he'd misheard.

Intent on the half-glimpsed drama unfolding outside (Why weren't the Senior Weyrlings who would volunteer ordered to attack the Fortians? They couldn't flame or dodge between, yet, but they had teeth and claws, and that would be much better odds for the Selenitas side. Why were the Fortians even here, anyway? Sel'n wasn't, as far as M'kai knew, and the High Reaches riders were in the infirmary, right?), it wasn't until people started screaming that he turned and saw the blaze eating up the stands behind them. He swung up a-dragonback, turning Futh sideways. Now was the kind of time he wished he had a bronze instead of a chubby blue- that way people would listen automatically.

"Stay calm, everyone!" he shouted vainly. It was much too loud in the Hatching Sands for anyone but those right next to him to hear. Stay calm, get down, and don't breathe the smoke, Futh offered, broadcasting as widely as he could within the stands. M'kai pulled his shirt up over his mouth and nose, peering out the main Sands entrance. There were lines of fire leading up to the grounds- looked like Fort was trying to lead them somewhere. Well, M'kai wasn't about to go anywhere until he heard from Morreliath, but he didn't want to aggravate the situation either.

---

Tenlie tacitly volunteered to be one of the people to fetch the wounded- any Smith-trained apprentice should be able to lift and carry a person unless they were hugely overweight. She shifted over towards the wall, intending to take a place next to a hulking Brownweyrling. He pushed off the wall before she reached him, though, and passed her on his way to the healer's conference. She'd seen his arms, though. His scars matched her own. With a small smile, Tenlie clambered up onto a bench to watch over the heads of the crowd for anyone to appear wounded. The healers would call her if they needed her; now, she kept her eyes on the flaming stands, vainly searching the milling crowd for anyone that needed help.

---

Piden barked a laugh. "Seriously. No, my favorite place to met new friends is in the middle of a disaster." It was also his favorite time for sarcasm. Pidesk was eying Eikask through Piden's eyes, but more to size her up than anything. She was slim and leggy like he was, which Pidesk didn't see as a disadvantage at all. Matching the Goldhandler's smirk, Piden took up a position a few paces to Eikane and Eikask's left, ready to meet anyone who tried to threaten Pidesk's family. He noted vaguely that the stands were burning, but as long as the Whers got out he didn't care. "Tell them to come here or stay in the middle of the Sands, away from the fire," he instructed Pidesk. The Bronze complied, then looked for his bronze and brown brothers. Huffing at the other Whers' delinquency, he swung his head towards Eikask, forgetting that he couldn't actually see without Piden's help. No matter. He knew that at least she, too, would protect her family.

[tarra]

(OOC> Sorry if I can't get everyone into the post personally, but I've done my best to get those inside the Grounds involved. Typing from work is a pain and /i hope this suffices )


S'kor and Morreliath

Morreliath leapt the moment the Fort dragons appeared above him, teeth and claws outstretched as if he would rend them; a tongue of flame erupted at Ysaloth, came perhaps near enough to lick him as he was busy flaming - and in the next moment the great bronze was gone. Iinside the Hatching Grounds the big dragon appeared in the cavernous space between roof and Sands, and immediately folded his wings as he dived to land with a thud in front of the entrance again. The curl of smoke at one corner caught his eye, and he snapped a curt order into the minds of both Jingth and the Junior Weyrlings.

Sand - use it, get rid of that fire. Jingth, organise them.

Blocking the entrance once more, Morreliath curled his tail tip in disdain as he eyed the Fort brown with his fighters. All brashness was gone now, and when he spoke there was deadly, mocking steel in his voice.

And what makes you think, all-knowing brown, that I have given you all my numbers?

Shifting just an inch more forward, he extended his neck to its fullest and flamed - long and steady in an arc that was extended with the extra reach of his neck, height and strength above the flames now shooting up. Any Fortian dragon caught in that arc would be forced to dodge, or at least to shift back in the air. The warning was clear: he was not as flameless as he had semed earlier - let the invaders keep guessing what he might still have in store. All this flaming was but a show - forest fire burned fast, and once they were burnt there would be nothing flammable left outside. In the meanwhile, those Fortian dragons were going to have all the difficulty staying low and steady in the heat and rising hot air from the flames. He drew back, saving his breath, wings mantled as he spoke again.

I agree, however, that needless bloodshed is unnecessary, his cool, aloof tones seemed hardly fazed by the flames just metres away, Just as your wasting of breath was unnecessary. Look.

He flashed an image of the Grounds he had so recently been in: frightened weyrlings, wherhandlers and Weyrfolk prevalent in the vision. If there had been any doubt that the image was false, it would be quenched by the fact that a fire in the stands was the cause of their panic. The same fire that Dreamyth had just set. Shrugging his wings in amusement, the big bronze rumbled as he mindspoke.

And all this while you thought they were here? Seek elsewhere, Fortians - we have no defectors amongst us.

Privately, to his own wing however, he spoke other things - Inocenth, Rinagth, Saboth, Sonarth, if they persist get amongst them: harry them, try to drive them skyward. Kierjaath, you will be above with Mirazeth and Frosstyth - as soon as they between above to escape, shred them. Or at least teach them that Selenitas dragons are not to be bullied. I leave that to you.

Within the Sands, the sudden shot of flames had left S'kor blinded a moment. V'rael spoke to him just then, and he jerked his attention back to the man.

"Yes, we need sand, and blankets or other things that can get rid of that!" he stared up at the whers now in the firy stands, "Tell your dragon to alert the whers up there to get out - they still have space to run."

Someone was shouting nearby, and S'kor turned to see M'kai shouting for others to stay calm. He shouted as well, to be heard over the din.

"You, get them to move back to the center, away from the fire! Then ask your dragon to tell any other Weyrfolk still meandering to throw sand on those flames; target the edges of the fire to stop its spread."

Targeting any number of nearby people, mostly wherhandlers, he sent them packing to help with the firefighting. The Senior Weyrilngs had to stay to protect the entrance. The real danger, he saw, was the smoke. Tapping into Morreliath's mind, he made a quick request. The bronze rumbled at the distraction but obliged with a broadcast for everyone in the place, Stay low as much as you can, the air is better near the ground.

And in the midst of it all, a plaintive wail arose in his mind, Crazy Mines, where's you?

S'kor moaned as he recognised Sky. Having followed his bonded up the river, he was now outside - and dangerously near the flames. He caught a quick thought toward the salamandyr, in a voice not to be disobeyed.

Sky run - run for the river! Fast.

The young salamandyr needed no second urging. Seeing the flames and sensing the panic around the Grounds, he turned tail and fled with all the speed his young legs could muster.

[Rei]

Fire! Mavenath’s nostrils flared as the acrid smell of burning wood assaulted his senses. The bronze’s response was instantaneous. Do not panic! He ordered to all dragons and humans who would listen. Humans remove yourselves from the stands and make your way to the middle of the hatching sands. Stay together and do not panic. Do not push. Do not trample. Stay calm. If you panic you run the risk of causing more harm. Swinging his head around he bugled for silence. Panic was disastrous. Dragons make for the outside of the sands and watch where you step! The juniors could fly into place if needed. There was enough room.

Touching the minds of all the dragons in the grounds he rumbled. Morreliath's orders where okay but there was more to do than just try and put the fire out with sand. they needed to stop it from spreading further. We need to try and stop the advancing flames. Break the benches in the fire’s path and clear them away. We need to try and control the fire. If it has nothing to feed on we can stop it. To demonstrate he leapt onto the stands and swung his tail into an intact bench shattering it. Picking up the pieces with his mouth he flung them away from the advancing flames. Two more please help me! The others try and douse the flames with sand from the grounds like Morreliath said. Use your tails to shower it, but be careful of the humans. The smoke would be a huge problem, but if they could stop the spread of the fire there wouldn’t be more smoke. Besides the ceiling was high enough and smoke rose. If they put the fire out in a timely matter, they could avoid smoke inhalation. At least hopefully.

Cr’oph had been aware of Mavenath’s orders and so it was to the bronze that he hastened. Along the way he guided those weyrfolk he could towards the middle of the grounds with gestures and soft spoken words. “Try and stay calm. Keep low.”


~~~

Erilena gratefully stroked Charming and provided for him a picture of the storage cabinet in the infirmary. His goal a jar of numbweed. They would need it. Sending him off with a grateful pulse of love she turned to Meira and R’ven. “Charming can get the numbweed if you can get Bonnie to get the redwort.” Giving the brownweyrling a half smile she gave a short bow to Meira and Kaegan. “I’ll do what I can to help.” Biting the inside of her lip she turned to help get things more organized.

That’s when hell broke loose, flames intact. Oh Faranth. “Grab what supplies you can!” She yelled suddenly while putting words to action. Grabbing handfuls of cloth bandaging she stuffed it into her bag. Leo scrambled hurriedly out of it to dive down into her breastband. Badbadbadbadbad. The blue spouted before curling between her breasts, eyes whirling in anxious yellows. His was in trouble she needed to move quickly. Hot was bad! Mavenath’s cry had her moving as soon as she had what she could carry. Throwing a worried look at the smith she scrambled down the stands and leapt over the rail to the hot sands. Faranth they where in trouble. People where going to panic, it was a natural reaction after all.

Feyrianth whimpered in worry and pressed part of her body against her brown clutchbrother, seeking comfort. The flames where bad. The green was versed enough in the ways of the world to know that. Hers and Tril’s needed to get away quickly she did not want either of them hurt. They where hers. She had claimed them. Hers. Whirling yellow eyes followed their progress.

~~~

Tynaris gripped his knife tighter as flames shot up in the stands. Time to move! Hurrying from the flames he tried to keep Emoyan in view. What where they to do now? He had no idea besides moving out of the way of the flames. Then a voice sounded in his head. Middle of the sands? He could do that.

~~~

Kaaoloth kept at his current altitude and snarled as he was forced to watch the invaders set flame to the grounds. Do not panic! Follow those orders that make sense. He sent into the mind of his weyrlings before circling once and moving further up into the clouds. Sel’n brushed across the brown’s mind lightly. I know Kaao. I know but we can’t do anything right now. Wait for Morreliath to give orders. A grumble was given in response but Kaaoloth would obey. If only because he had no other choice. Like it or not Morreliath was in charge. Quickly he took a look around and set in his mind the locations of all his current wing mates, including Frosstyth who was located behind him. The young brown was still new to this. Bad time for a crash course.

As the wing moved Kaaoloth hovered in place and Sel’n took stock of what was going on around him. What exactly was it that the Fortian’s wanted? He wasn’t sure but most likely it was the high reaches dragons. Who where not in attendance. No orders where given to him but it was obvious the Cyclone wing had been given orders. Giving a coordinate to Kaaoloth he had the brown blink between and reappear high above the hatching grounds.

The dragon’s hide was partially obscured by the smoke and mist giving them some type of cover. The brown would leave the wing with their orders. He had none at the moment. If there was room he would have transferred into the grounds but as it was panic was likely to sit in there. It wouldn’t be safe. How he hated to feel useless. Things where unraveling fast and Sel'n was getting angry at the way things where happening. It was unlikely that Fort would give up and leave that easily. They would not believe what the where told unless they saw it with their own eyes.

[midnight]

Meagen watched M'kai's retreat her eyes misting over as she gripped unto her knives hilts. Her eyes hardened and went to a rather harsh amber gold color. Her eyes closing for a moment as she tried to reach her calm. It was odd, suddenly there was a serene calm that slipped through her. The fire came in and she went into action. Orders were being shouted, and people were moving. Cry was right, they needed to get the people towards the middle, away from the stands. She braced her feet for a moment and started motioning, slipping to the side a little.

She would help, this was her home too! She looked around and nodded. Looking towards where the candidates where. "Calmly, just move!" She stated, her voice was strong and firm, the first time anyone had probably heard her like this. Her back straightened and her eyes scanned the crowd. "If there are any injured, get them towards the middle as well!" She called out. She took a calming breath and then strode silently through the crowd. Her hands moved from her blades to her hair. Her hands moving rapidly as the strands were braided.

Her eyes focused harshly on the area's around her. Her mind formulating things that she could do. She decided that the future of the Weyr. She knew how to fight, better then some. She would defend those gathering. But who else could fight? With all the Weyrlings working on the fire... Then an idea came to mind... how many firelizards were in here? Did anyone have blankets? The Rider was right.

"Anyone in the group that has thick fabric, like blankets... Things not being used for medical supplies, we need to get them out to the people that are working on the fire in the Stands!" She stated as she slinked around the group. Fear did not show on the girls feature, just sheer determination. "Any children and the older of the Weyr need to be put towards the middle of the group, as well as Healers! Anyone that can fight, get towards the outer edges of the circle!" She called out. Keeping her voice at an even tone, just loud enough to be heard, that was all that was needed.


They needed to build a defense in here, the fires were being cared for. "Cover your mouths with some fabric, pull up your shirts and stay low. Stay alert, but don't panic! Be calm!" She called out. Why was she like this? This serene calm and this ability to work the way she was. She was fine with following orders, but she felt that the Middle need to get a little organized. She may not be a candidate anymore, but her father had taught her some strategies, and she had learned a lot when she was in Benden.

This was her time to shine, her hands went to her knives and finally she pulled them from their sheaths. These were a shade different then normal eating knives, it was obvious these were made for fighting. She twisted one of the blades in her hand, spinning it rapidly and then catching it in her hand. This feeling, she could get used to it. "Move quickly! Calmly! Let's go... stay low, avoid as much smoke as possible!"

(( I Hope I didn't step out of line with this. If I did so please let me know!))

[Tashe]

Holding onto Nautsk's neck with his legs as he directed her over to the stands entrance, the Wherhandler rolled his eyes at Dmitri. "Oh yes, it looks very much like you'll get the chance to make history here." He tapped her shoulder twice with his left foot, guiding her closer to where they were supposed to be. Well, the upside of this was that they were finally doing something. The downside? They were doing something that boarded on insane. Twisting around at the waist to face the Bluehandler, Nautic offered him a smile. "Anyways I do--" And then he was in the air, no longer sitting on the little Wher he called His. The Greenhandler gasped as his head smacked against the floor of the stands, his sight blurred and seconds later everything faded to black.

When he came to, Nautic was baffled as to exactly what he was seeing, a large green and brown blur filled his field of vision. His eyes refocused, and realized it was Nautsk's face he had been looking up into. Sitting up, Nautic had to steady himself as the world around him swam. The Green wasn't helping, sending him images that couldn't be processed as fast as she was sending them. Coughing as he inhaled a billow of smoke, the Handler got to his feet as fast as his head would allow. The stands were on fire. But what had happened? The only logical thing he could think of at the moment, was that a dragon had blown flame through the entranceway and Nautsk had reared away to avoid it. Her heat sensing ability must have warned her to it.

Taking a step, the blond almost stumbled. His head was in pain, but he needed to get them out of the stands. Doing his best to focus, Nautic led the Green back onto the sands before collapsing onto his knees. Everything was too bright, he felt much like a Wher exposed to the sun. Nautsk was whimpering, she could feel his pain and worst of all she was blaming herself for hurting him. Using her side to haul himself up, Nautic asked Nautsk to help him block out Absinthe, who was screeching in anger. Tizzy had erupted from the back with the Salamandyr and was now on top of the Wher, and as for his Avian? He hoped that she was now circling somewhere in the rafters. Lifting his hand as his Wher helped him walk out of the way of the other Whers and Dragons, Nautic pressed it against the side of his head. He took it away and blanched a little. He was bleeding. It was by chance the Handler glanced to his right. "Oh Nautsky... you're burned..." The Wher tried to assure him that she wasn't as hurt as he was. And then he sank to his knees, the dizzyness overwhelming him again.

---

"You're welcome." He sighed heavily. "You never know, but I hope we don't have to use them." Turning to Rishin as she began to growl, Eliah tried to calm her down. All the roaring outside was upsetting her, and the Candidate knew that she knew something bad was happening. "Its okay Rishin. Shh." Rubbing her neck, he patted her gently. The poor Canine. She was confused and upset, this disaster had disrupted the routine Eliah had been setting up. It was something she had just gotten used to and was not appreciative that it had been broken so soon.

Flinching as Rishin flipped onto her feet, the older boy glanced between Dy'shi and the flames. Where had that come from? He rose to his feet at the Blueweyrling's words, nodding before telling Rishin to follow. Jogging away from the stands, Eliah fished around in his bag before pulling out two head bands. Unrolling them, he tied one around his nose and mouth, then pulling it down so that it hung around his neck. The other he offered Dy'shi. "If the smoke gets bad..." At this point, he wasn't sure whether or not they were going to evacuate or not. You know, what with the Fortriders outside and all.

---

Lovelymine here. The salamandyr popped his head out of his Human's curls. Hatchlingmine is with Birdlady. Safesafe. Over there. He pointed in their direction with his tail. Close by yes. Mine want help, she littlefixer. Not as good as Yours, only smalltime.

Untying her corded belt, Kaegan gave it to Azaran before she shooed him off of her shoulder. She pulled at the folds of her long skirt, shimmying out of it with a practiced skill. Stepping to the side slightly, the Weyrwoman removed her sleeved shirt over her head, being careful not to dislodge Dash from his position in her curls. From there she draped the outer clothing over her arm and took her belt back from Azaran, tying it around her waist and making the sleeveless tunic into a dress. Ferrying it over to the table upon which other garments had been laid, Kaegan returned to the little circle of healers in time to hear Meira talk about supplies. Piping up she said, "Azaran can help too."

And then there was shouting. Momentarily retreating from the group, the Weyrwoman sought out Meiriad and her son. Taking the fussing Kai, Kaegan returned to the other volunteers, her helper standing back by the edges of the area. Bouncing the baby, she held him close. Once he quieted down or she had something to do she'd give him back to Meiriad. Twirling around, Kaegan flinched slightly as her eyes met the sight of the flames. They made the skin on her back crawl, she might not remember most of what happened during the dominance display, but the scars spoke loud enough. Grabbing cloth with her free hand, Kaegan gathered as much as she could. "The Queen's couch. Its away from the Stands... "

[dragon]

That sound ... that was a very familiar sound. It took a moment to place, however, as Emoyan had not very often in his live been in front of dragon flames when they happened, more often being behind them. But he did identify it before it was too late, the sound roaring through the entrance before the flames themselves. Heat ran between sound and flame, giving a tad more split second of warning. "MOVE!" He ordered, getting the candidates away from the entrance before it was too late. "MOVE!" he repeated, for one sickening moment not knowing if they were going to get far enough away fast enough - that was a huge if. How big of a dragon was blowing that flame, and how focused was it? These were things that he could not know, until it was too late. Thankfully, most everyone managed to stagger out of the way in time, the one or two that didn't went running pell mell until they were knocked down and put out by other people.

Faranth, that was too close. Emoyan didn't even know how the whers that had been guarding the doorway had fared, he was too busy otherwise to notice. With a few shouted orders, he sent the kids away from the wooden stands and toward the center of the sands. "Get away from the fire!" He added, to anyone else who might be in the way of the licking flames.

There were too many people yelling orders at the same time, some of them contradictory. And other people screaming bloody murder ... some with good reason, some just cause. It was enough to render anyone deaf. There was too much chaos and by far not enough order. Of course, the roar of the flames wasn't helping any, or the smoke for that matter. He knew most had the sense to get beneath the smoke, and as such did not bother to add his own voice to the fray. Most likely, no one would hear him anyway.

For the millionth time in the short turn since Kindrith's demise, Emoyan wished his dragon was still around. Because he needed a dragon to work with now more than ever before. Someone who was big enough to move substantial amounts of sand ... or remove the fuel from the fire as one thoughtfully intelligent young dragon was doing. But he also wanted something with wings that could move a lot of air... the place was going to need to be ventilated just as soon as the fire was out, lest everyone die from smoke inhalation. Enough grounded dragons using their wings could move the air out in good time. But first - that fire.

Shovels were always on hand, at the sands ... mostly for cleaning up hatching messes and shards of shells. So getting his hands on one was no big deal. However, getting near enough to that raging inferno to be able to reach it with a flung shovel load of sand? That was a lot harder. It was too bad they didn't have a lot of water on hand ...

---

L'nu spun about in place when a whole lot of people started screaming and yelling. The appearance of fire gouting into the sands made his eyes widen up all the way. "Fire!" He yelled, stupidly. Just like everyone else. Shocked out of his wits, he just stood there. Which was actually probably a good thing, since he didn't know anything about putting out a wildfire anyway. The only fire he knew anything about was contained within an oven for firing pottery. That he could handle ... this? Not a chance. Beside him, Paglieth started busily digging a hole down into the scalding hot sands at his feet. Sand was thrown toward the wooden stands, as he dug deeper and deeper. Would he try to bury his own rider? Maybe. Maybe not. But he did understand that sand didn't burn. And L'nu would.

---

Frossyth wavered for a moment in the air uncertainly as new orders were issued. Shortly afterward Kaaoloth completely got away from him. Now what? Thankfully, C'oar still had a handle on things, even as they broke off of their previous attack run when the Fort wing vanished into between

Our orders are to stay up here, so we'll do that. C'oar told him, giving him a reassuring pat on the neck. His guts wrenched into horrible knots as he watched the fires gouting all over far below him, visible through the dense fog. A lot of it looked like hostile fire, too. Not good. But orders were still coming from down there, so Morreliath had to know exactly what was going on. If they were not needed down there, but rather up here ... then up here they would stay. And hope the bronze and his rider knew what they were doing. Not everyone was airborne, he knew. Several riders and dragons were still down there somewhere.

Kierjaath and Mirazeth will be up here soon. We'll wing up with them and wait. C'oar told Frosstyth, who started ascending the air again. He didn't see either of the other two anywhere around to be able to join up with them. Being already more or less in place, he sent a quick image of where he was to the pair, and waited for them to turn up somewhere. Being up here all alone was a tad alarming ... especially since Kaaoloth had abandoned ship on him. Where had the old brown gone, anyway? He hadn't said a single word at all before vanishing. Frosstyth and C'oar both were pretty sure he hadn't just turned tail and run ... that wasn't like them. Not at all.

But they didn't have time to ponder it or solve it. Until they managed to find their wingmates, they had to stay on their toes to forestall any attack that might come their way. It was mighty frustrating, to be up high, all alone, and forced to watch their home burn. It felt a lot like the enemy was being given free reign down there, while the bit was crammed up hard to keep them away. Both dragon and rider itched to do something. Anything. Cut the offenders limb from limb and roast them in a big pit would be nice...

[Requiem]

The blast of fire rolled over them both, Dmitri and Dmisk further ahead than Nautsk had been. It wasn't direct; they weren't right in front of the opening, after all. But it seared past them, the blue instinctively twisting to protect his eyes. Flame seared his entire right side, and though Dmitri was pressed tight to the wher, it caught his leg and part of his arm, too. Eating through clothing, boiling some of the skin before the air sucked in around the flame and cooled it almost as fast. Dmisk staggered, and Dmitri coughed at the smoke roiling about, the pain not registering yet for either wher or handler. They were still in a mild state of shock as the large blue scrambled to get away from the heat. Not so Dementia.

Her shrieks of fury were so loud, so unbridled and so overflowing with rage that they were completely indecipherable - and equally impossible to ignore. As Dmisk stumbled down into the sands, Dmitri yanked off the half-fire-eaten boot by what remained of the laces, hissing at the pain in his hand, and flung it straight at Morreliath for lack of a better target. Or perhaps because Dementia had found the ones she blamed. Faranth knew neither Dmisk nor Dmitri were thinking right now. Made more clear as the wher shouldered through the crowd, Dmitri's head swiveling toward S'kor's shouts. Finding nothing to throw, he launched himself at the man, which was...well, not the best move, all things considered. The harper passed out from that simple contact, Dmisk snapping at anyone around him with his deadly jaws to get to the handler, who he curled around, breaths coming heavy.

---

Flame. Wide-eyed, X'rx watched the stands catch fire, watched some of the whers come tumbling out and stared at the bronze. Panic everywhere, and it was hard not to become consumed by it himself. Eveyth growled softly. They will trample each other like that, Mine. Why are the dragons flaming at us? We are not Thread. "Not all dragons are good dragons, Evvie. It's sad, but it's true." He glanced at the two goldriders, hoping one of them would know what to do. That was their job, right? He didn't think...sand might put out the flames, yes, but wouldn't more people get hurt? He twisted his shirt between his hands. Nonsense. They just don't know we're here, X'rxMine.

Convinced that it was just a matter of oversight, the little green projected her voice as faaar as she could so that the foreign dragons could hear her. Stop flaming, foreign brothers! There are peoples and dragons and littles and whers all in here and fire hurts. I know you didn't mean to and we won't be mad, just please stop.

---

Oh sharding fucking and the stream got worse from there, entirely mental this time. He would've spared a moment for Meira, but everything was chaos. Not even bothering to attempt to scream in this mess, Behruth was the one who responded without any prodding. KEEP IT DOWN. His mental voice crashed into the hatching sands with physical force. Orders are being passed. If you don't have pretty knots saying you're in charge, or your rider doesn't, shut up and listen. Thank you. That wasn't to say he was pleased about what little he'd heard from Morreliath and S'kor. The brown's voice came with steady calm, belying the urgency as he addressed the bronze.

Fire eats air, Morreliath. Smoke puts people and dragons and all the little cousins to sleep. You cannot stay in there. Organize them, and get them out. I know it's not my place to say anything; I'm not even on your wing, but Mine is in there with Jingth's and Millieth's, and I will not let him die because you are distracted. Which was really just a nice way of saying stupid, though Behruth was never so rude. You will be exposed out in the open, but it's not as bad as if you stay in there with the smoke. If there's anything you need me to do, I am not far. Mine must try to keep the golds safe, though.

---

I don't remember her. She probably doesn't remember you, either. We missed. Pure luck. We won't next time. Didn't he just say to go? If they keep up the flaming. Spoilsport. Don't want you attacking alone. Inocenth huffed his annoyance, but maintained his spot, seriously wanting to get his claws into some Fort hide...particularly that green's. Slippery one.

[kat]

Everything became chaos faster than T'lor could have imagined it would. One moment, he and Shith were standing behind Morreliath, and in the next there was shouting and a distinct orange glow as the upper part of the stands by the secondary entrance began to burn. Shith turned in alarm, uttering a sound that was like a low growl in his throat. Where had the fire come from? Obviously, a Fortian dragon had broken through and somehow managed to flame the entrance! How many people had been there, and how many were injured?

"Shells an' shardit, them damn Fortians!" he cursed, eyes narrowing. Then the voice of another dragon assaulted his and Shith's minds. A shock, at first, but the instructions Mavenath gave were sound, and T'lor was personally feeling on edge just standing there. Guarding was something, but not nearly active enough for the Senior Blueweyrling. So, he and Shith were only too happy to oblige and get actually doing something proactive. "All right, yeh' heard 'em, Shith. Smash up the benches an' shove 'em away from the fire!" Shith was only too happy to comply, his tail giving a thump on the ground as he made quickly though carefully made his way into the stands. It was not easy, to fit a turn old dragon there. Even though he was blue, and not so large as Mavenath, he had to maneuver carefully to get up there, T'lor following at a safe distance. When there, however, the patchy young dragon set to work quickly.

His tail was unusually active at the calmest of times, and because of this there was a lot more muscle in there than one would expect, even of a dragon in fighting fit shape. Waving, wagging, thumping, swooshing along the ground, upraised and curled over his back--Shith's tail was never still, or unused. It was like a extension of his moods, somehow, and now? It was a force to be reckoned with. The benches didn't stand a chance. The blue's tail came down with a 'whomp!' on the benches, and wood splintered and shattered without giving much resistance. When it did, the blue swept it back from the spreading flames with his tail, sometimes bringing his forepaws into play if he missed chunks or pieces. Once done with one section, he hurried onto the next, not stopping in his assault upon the now dangerously flammable objects.

"That's the way t'do it, Shith! Keep at it, buddy," T'lor encouraged, watching the blue work away with pride. He himself often ran in and picked up stray pieces that Shith might have missed, though they were few. It felt good to be doing something, in all this chaos.

~~~~~~

Mihkal felt at a bit of a loss as T'lor and Shith suddenly took action, taking up the position in the stands to help clear away the benches that would otherwise spread the fire. Everything was such complete and utter chaos, and he felt completely useless. He had only a singular knife in his belt, a knife that really wasn't being put to use. He wouldn't be much help in dousing the flames, as he had no dragon to scatter sand on it. Still, he watched and waited for any opportunity he could find to help. Seemed at the moment, there was none, and he wondered if anyone else felt as out of place as he did.

~~~~~~

Talien had been too close for comfort to the entrance when those flames suddenly appeared. He stumbled back as a billow of smoke shot out of the entrance, coughing, his eyes tearing up. There had been people in there! Actually in there and not just near the entrance, as he'd been. Shells, how many had been caught in that blast? He spotted a couple staggering out, and wondered if they had all gotten out or if more were still inside. Being burned by fire seemed a horrible thing, and he pursed his lips together, wishing there was more he could do. Well, he might get his chance, and when he did? He might wish he could take those words back.

~~~~~~

Ariya turned in horror when she heard the shouts coming from the other entrance, the one she and Airysk were not guarding. Fire. Somehow, there was fire there, and there had been people inside. Ariysk gave an angry roar, his great head swinging to face the direction his looked, his blindfolded and sightless eyes unable to see but getting enough information from his bond's mind and eyes to fill in what was happening for him. He was angry. The bad dragons were attacking his Weyr. In this daytime he could not even do as whers should, and protect! He was helpless and angry for it.

Ari was aware her wher was growing more upset with each passing moment, and reached over, placing a hand on his large neck. She, too, felt the burden of being unable to aid in the daytime, and while Ariysk would have been great help in the darkness or evening, now he was reduced to frustration, as she was. Well, there had to be something they could do! They were not useless, and the only real enemy besides the Fort riders and their dragons was that sharding daylight! There just had to be a way around it. What if...then she had it, an idea, that just might work. It wouldn't be perfect vision for the photo-phobic bronze wher, but it was better than total blindness!

She had blindfolded him with the dark colored material, by folding it over and obscuring all from his sight. What if she were to not fold it over, but allow him to be able to just see through the first layer? Because she was sure he would be able to, the way the shirt was woven. Plus, if she tore it into strips there was enough for not just the bronze, but another one or two of the whers! The sleeves were long, and if she cut it in half, there would be a total of three makeshift folds to go around the wher's eyes. She could give these to two others, and then they could help fight, if need be, or douse the flames. Whers were not so big as dragons, they could be of more use in the stands or smaller areas. She had to try it, and if it didn't work...well, then she had another shirt in that bag, and could just re-apply a blindfold. Thank Faranth for an emergency pack!

Taking her knife out of her belt, she instructed the bronze to close his eyes. He complied, getting the gist of her idea from her mind, and she set to work, cutting the top half of the shirt off, and then separating the back and front layers, before making a single slit so that the bottom half was one longer slit. Then, she took the front of the top half and tried it against her own eyes. She could see! It was dimmer because the dark material didn't let in much light at all, but for a wher? That was the idea. Quickly, she secured it around Ariysk's eyes, and then instructed him to open them. The pleased sound of satisfaction told her her plan had worked. She had to find two others, then, to give the makeshift eye protection to! She didn't have another dark shirt like this on hand. It would only work for two more whers, and she quickly looked around to see who would be best. Of course, Eikane and Eikask! They would be first, likely the gold wher was just as frustrated as Ariysk had been, and her handler, too!

She jogged up to the goldhandler, the two strips in hand. Ariysk followed, reveling in his ability to see once more. She had gotten over her shyness at saying what need to be said, and now was not the time, besides, to feel any hesitation at speaking up about her discovery.

"Eikane, here. Try this on Eikask," she told him, offering him the back half of the shirt with the sleeves. She didn't expect him to question it, especially when he must have been able to see Ariysk jogging beside her, without her aid. She smiled encouragingly, and held it out to him, waiting for him to do so.

--Kiana is awaiting Meira's reply, but is worried about the flames in the stands and the people who might be injured from the blast. Tuelzanth likewise.

[rii]

Redwort. R'ven sent the mental image to Bonnie – who was busy crooning at Charming in a cattish fashion. The olive-green had stretched out to her full length, flicking her tail in a flirtatious manner as if inviting the lovely brown to join her. She climbed up the length of R'ven's arm to once again be on his shoulder. There she sat against R'ven's neck, tail sliding across the open space next to her..

"Bon.." The tone was stern, and the green instantly chittered in pure innocence of any wrong doing. R'ven again sent the image over, tacking in the importance of the task, and was satisfied when she winked between. Only to be assaulted by the snarling impression vibrating down the bond between him and his brown. Trilaranth's maw was open and directed at the sky – at the green setting fire to the stands.

If only he were strong enough to fly he would show her. R'ven gritted his teeth, warding off the anger feeding off of Trilaranth's mood. He began to take off after Erilena – grabbing the wrist of a fidgeting X'rx's – intent not to let either of them out of his sight. He understood Erilena's need to help others, but the situation was starting to look bleak. R'ven didn't know how to help...

Dmitri.

Taller than most of the heads around him, and still at the railing of the sands, R'ven caught the sight of Dmisk snapping out at the nearby crowd. The long haired... burnt.. harper was a familiar enough form to recognize. Releasing X'rx, R'ven jumped down onto the sands and pushed his way through the thick mess of weyrfolk to reach his friend. He paused at space Dmisk had created with the feral demeanor.

"Dmisk.." The smith eased down into the sands, sinking down to his knees to be at a more even – or submissive – level with the wher. He was out of immediate range, but he held up his hands to show that he meant no harm. "Dmisk.. there are healers here with us.. Let them see Dmitri, tend to his and your wounds. Please.."

His eyes left the burnt wher to view the harper, or what he could see from his vantage point. Dmisk wasn't making it an easy thing to do. He had to be alive, right? Otherwise the wher would be gone. Although, Dmisk didn't sound too good. Deeply concerned, R'ven slowly edged closer to test if the wher would allow him to get to Dmitri. "Just want to help him. He's my friend.."

Feysistermine. Stay with yours, keep her safe. Mine would be most upset if she got hurt. The brown nuzzled his green sister, pushing her in the direction of the sands to follow after the humans.

__________

The mental images came from Saboth, circling high above the grounds, as the Fort dragons made a ring of fire around the hatching sands. Trapping them inside. F'lix felt the corner of his lips curl in a light sneer beneath the fabric of his shirt. Whose idea had it been again to shuffle so many people inside of the open structure. They made such easy targets – but why had Fort not just continue on and flame all the vulnerable bodies inside. There must be something they want..

.. but even if they got it, what would stop them from ending the conflict with a hundred or more smoldering bodies as a message. And where was Benden's supposed aid when they actually needed it. Late, late, late, why was F'lix not surprised?

The young bluerider always had hated the idea of being in a large group. It gave off the distinct image of a flock of trapped, grounded birds slowly being picked off; one by one in a systematic fashion by the larger predatory avians. Everyone would have better luck if they just scattered into the jungle. Even a trained wing of Fortians couldn't hunt them down then..

Yes, F'lix would much prefer if they would come down from the air. So let them come, he mused privately to himself, fighting them off was only going to get more of the innocent harmed – burned rather. It was hard to protect such a large mass from dragon flame. F'lix eased out of his position and carefully began to make his way across the low branches to head in the direction of the smaller entrance..

[Lotty]

Kierjaarth was stalling, but to be fair even Mi'rah himself didn't want to follow orders right away. He needed just a minute, maybe two if he could spare the time to collect the facts and make everything fall into their orderly place. The bronzerider was sure that all situations were number games and puzzle pieces and that things could be fit together if you were smart enough. The Fortians, they always clearly understood this same philosophy. It explained their organization, their military prowess. If nothing else they would take the field because they had goals and the means to meet them...which was too often how they were able to beat the Bendenites. It was probably a good thing then that despite his own heritage, Mi'rah thought much more like a Fortian than one would expect.

So what was the story here? What could they work with? The hatching grounds were catching fire, and the people inside were screwed...at very least their lungs were. The fire could be stopped or slowed, but it didn't change the fact that smoke was taking up space where air should be. If it was a defector....a dragonrider they were after then they should have little business with those on the inside anyway. If they were to get out...and get to the jungle quick enough then there would be a chance for them. It was no good having them herded into one big target and both rider and dragon suspected that herding is exactly what the small wing was doing to them. The pair wove through the sky in a few circles, blinking between from time to time so that there was never a constant, so that there wasn't a way to keep an eye on them. They finally popped up towards Frossyth and Mirazeth and the bronze immediately touched the minds of the two browns, he needed to feel them out...he had the suspicion that - in the trademark words of his rider - that this wasn't exactly a good idea.

What are you thinking? Or maybe a better way to term it would be: What are your rider's thinking? Though both answers were of interest to the bronze. He wasn't sure of the other two's experience with these situations, but he was weary of the idea of the three of them left to take on whatever popped up to escape into their area. Fort wings didn't just escape, there wasn't just a retreat, everything was formulated, and if the wing went between then they would all come back into the airspace still united and strong. Highly organized. The best way to take them out was an age old tactic.... Mine is considering 'divide and conquer'. The dragon then mentioned off handedly to his cohorts. Sure a one on one battle would be tricky with such trained dragons, but the idea was becoming more and more plausible. It was another moment before reaching out to the other wingsecond, Why do you suppose this will work Morreliath? And what is to be done with the hatching sands...this is getting out of control quickly... The situation was growing dire if only because of the constant threat of dissent. If even a third of the wing was growing as restless as Kierjaarth then a disorder amongst the dragons could be at hand and that was bad. Very bad. Resting his confidence on the other bronze was over, he needed some transparency, he needed to know details.

[Shiny]

L'nu's horrified yell caught J'ash's attention, who also spun to look in the direction of the event that had caused mass panic. And, like L'nu, J'ash froze. A feeling of doom sunk to the bottom of his stomach, hitting the soles of his feet with the force of a comet hitting Pern. This... was bad. Really bad. But what could he do? He was just a weyrling that had only been through a few lessons. He and Craivaruth didn't even know how to fly.

A hand rose and softly placed itself on his younger friend's shoulder, trying to coax him out of his shocked state. "L'nu, c'mon. Snap out of it," he gently shook him a few times before taking a step back. The feeling of being caged in, terrified, doomed... they all served as a fuel for his determination to survive. To fight back and save his fellow comrades. He might not be able to do much or make a big difference, but shard it, he was going to try. Or die trying. Grabbing the edges of his shirt, he pulled it up over his head and tossed it on the ground.

Craivaruth had instantly gone over to help Paglieth. The blue and green beast was careful not to dig holes too deep; people (or other creatures for that matter) who were not paying attention to where they were going could possibly fall in and severely injure themselves. J'ash began to grab handfuls of sand and throw them onto his shirt. After a good amount had accumulated, he picked up the package carefully but quickly and flung the contents onto the nearest licks of the fire. Even if it wasn't doing much, it would hopefully buy the riders outside some time to come up with a plan, negotiate, or kick some ass.

J'ash darted backwards from the flames with his sandy shirt. A few of his hairs were probably singed. "L'nu, you gonna stand there all day, or are you going to help me?" he called, falling to his knees again.

I wish I could be out there defending Selenitas against Fort.

'We'll be able to do that when we've trained and you've grown up big and strong. For that to happen, we need to exist. So first thing's first; save our lives!'