Dragonriders (Threadfall 1/25)

[Requiem]

Lauranna and Reysalth

The Weyrleader was still closeted with the Wingleaders from both Flights, and had been since just after sunrise. It had fallen to Laurie to find someone within Selenitas to look after the baby Miguel. Luckily, his original fosterparents hadn't taken her decision to hand the lad over to Shmee and S'rei to raise as offensive, and were willing to look after him for the next few hours. Reysalth's restlessness added to her own. She would be going Between with the rest of the wings, but she was to rotate in later on in the fall, and would be assisting with the groundcrew first. This was fine with both dragon and rider. Though Laurie wished she'd had a chance to talk to F'rah before this got started.

Reysalth snorted at her rider as the woman sent her a scathing glance, laying off on the fidgeting long enough for Lauranna to finish buckling on the riding straps. She looked to her clutchmate. He still hadn't stirred from his position at the foot of the falls. How could Salenth be so calm? Reysalth was excited, anxious to take to the air and do as she was born to do. Even Flight wasn't as fulfilling. Her gaze swept the assembled dragons and their riders as everyone prepared, the wingseconds of Alpha Flight combing through the dragonpairs under their charge to make sure everything was as it should be. It wouldn't be long now. Surely.

F'lan and Wrenth

So, what do you think? F'lan looked up from studying his hands. For hours now, the two had been ready. They always rose with the sun. About what? The wings. Do you think they're ready? Going back to scrutinizing the dirt under his nails, the bluerider shifted slightly to relieve the tension in his shoulders. Given what the Wingleaders have to work with? I'd say we're just about as prepared as is possible. F'lan managed to sound fatalistic, even in this. Wrenth knew better than to think the bluerider's nonchalant attitude was the truth, though. The man's nervous excitement was crowding into his mind, and would have been quite unwelcome had Wrenth's mood not matched that of His.

Spying movement near the base of the waterfall, the blue's anticipation spiked. Mine. The Wingleaders come. I noticed. F'lan stood slowly, taking the time to stretch out his muscles as he glanced at the new arrivals. They still had plenty of time to get everything situated just so. The bluerider was sure to fasten the bags of firestone securely, having decided not to burden Wrenth with the extra weight until they were closer to taking to the air. He tugged on his gloves with studied movements, settling the helmet and goggles in place. Taking one last tug at the straps, F'lan again settled in to wait. Wrenth watched Salenth and His avidly, waiting for the signal, utterly still.

S'rei and Salenth

How many times had he led a wing into Threadfall? Almost more than he could count. This time, though, it was more than just a wing that fell under his command. To say that he wasn't slightly nervous would be a lie, but the adrenaline beginning to flow through his veins outweighed the feeling. Salenth was utterly calm as the Weyrleader paused long enough to assure himself that the Wingleaders of Alpha Flight were all ready. Thing were not ideal for this Threadfall, but they rarely were. The winds that drove the storm over the ocean would cause trouble for the dragonriders, but the storm itself would be of no help; it was coming a good hour behind the Thread. There was nothing to do but make the best of it.

Salenth shifted, and as S'rei's fist pumped the air, the bronze leapt into the skies with a thunderous bugle, his wings powering him up above the level of the trees. They didn't need to look around them to be sure that Alpha Flight was falling into formation; that, at least, they were sure of. All the wings had been drilling tirelessly for this Fall. They hovered for a moment, listening to the steady rhythm of dragonwings, then, with a feral grin, S'rei drew up the image of the shoreline not far from Southern Hold. Salenth relayed it through the other dragons. In an instant, Alpha Flight passed Between, enduring the biting cold of nothingness before they emerged well above the candidates and weyrlings making up the groundcrew below. In the near distance, Thread.

Only self-discipline allowed Salenth to restrain himself. His natural enemy fell just before him, sending up a faint smoke as it hit the ocean waves.

OOC:

Ground crew has a thread elsewhere. I'll be rotating the greens and some of the blues in and out, so watch for that! After we get about three replies, I'll be posting a narration post - after two replies if I get particularly impatient.

Check out the wing formation thread, since that will give you an idea on orientation and what the Wingleaders mean when they call out a fomation name. ;D Wingleaders and wingseconds are expected to react to what's going on and direct the dragonriders, and wingriders should follow those orders, obviously. Failure to do so may result in injury, so be sure to read!

I'll divide the narration up into Martial and Solar, so it's easier to follow. Right now, the dragons that are working with the ground crew are Opeith, Reysalth, Eriannath and Bazeth. Watch for the rotations!

Just remember to have fun, guys. xD

<3 Reqqy

[missa]

Zadari and Sitath

As always before thread, Zadari was nervous, yet there was that ever same desire to fight along side the others. Nothing could change that, not being in a storm, and not flying with a lack of riders. Reaching up one gloved hand, she stroked Sitath's nose gently, stroking along the spiderwebbing of blue crackles on his hide.

"Think you can handle this, love?" Zadari teased softly, planting a kiss to his nose before moving to place the straps on him. A low rumbling chuckle came from the blue, and the great head nodded.
Yes. We can. I know what you are going to say. Be careful. You say so every fall. Despite his words, Sitath did croon affectionately, pressing his nose against Zadari's chest.

Buckling his straps easily, Zadari placed a booted foot on Sitath's foreleg boosting herself into her place, the one place she would always belong as she gently stroked her fingers alnog Sitath's neck. With Sitath, fighting an ancient enemy, that was where she belonged. Her eyes going to the Weyrleader and his Bronze, she smiled, a small, almost nervous smile as Sitath's wings spread and he launched himself into the air. As it had many times before the blackness, the cold of between surrounded them.

Like always, the fresh air was there in only three coughs. Sitath's whirling eyes focused ahead, muscles tense. They could do this...

D'ran and Thorith

The harness was placed on Thorith easily, quickly, teh brown standing perfectly still, first lids half closed over his whirling eyes. The very picture of contentment, even when he wasn't. He wanted to be up in the skies, wanted to be fighting already. Yet the Brown knew better as D'ran mounted, settling easily. Muscles tensed as the pair watched, watched and waited.

You shouldn't be nervous. We have flown Thread before. Many times. Thorith assured him smoothly, tail flicking absently, as though he wasn't bothered in the least sense.
Not with so few riders. Came D'ran's swift reply, one hand resting cassually against his dragon's hide. Yes, he would admit it, he was nervous. They'd never done this with so few riders, ever. He could only hope that it would be enough.
It will be fine. How he wished he could have the Brown's confidence.

The signal came and Thorith leapt into the air, the brown's eagerness helping D'ran's uneasiness as they hopped between. Maybe it wouldn't be that bad, they'd fought Thread before, and been fine, so what difference would it make? It was all fine. All good. He said nothing as the wnig seemed to hover, waiting as the silver Thread fell against the ocean. The slight hiss... It was beginning.

[Tashe]

F'rah and Styth:

Waiting quietly, save for the few rumbles of eagerness from Styth, the dragonpair stood near to the two Queens they hand in their Wing. Both of the males were fidgeting, the Weyrlingmaster checking his straps and buckles and the large brown in ernest to get to the thread fall. The raging wind high above them wouldn't make the battle any easier, but destroying the organisms had to be done and done well no matter the weather conditions.

Tugging on his leather gloves and checking the chain that held his firestone bag once more, the Weyrlingmaster quickly glanced over his shoulder at the Martail wing. He too wished that he could have spoken to Laurie before they had begun preparations, but now all he could do was quietly prey that everyone made it out alive. He'd like to see his charges again... and his cats. Whipping back into attention as the Weyrleader's bronze roared, F'rah quickly looked into his Brown's mind for the coordinates before letting themselves disappear into the between. Dark, frozenness erupted around them for a few seconds before they were plunged into the raging gale. It wouldn't be long now that they were in the air, all he had to do was wait for the commands given to him...

F'con and Jackreth

Pulling at the rider's mind, the large sturdy blue growled threateningly at the impending fight that they were about to head into. Jackreth was eager to destroy something, anything, he was ready to fight the thread with a vengeance. Although the Dragon was rearing to go, his rider looked almost as calm as the weyrleader. The Bluepair had been through Dragon on Dragon fighting at Fort, and thread was definitely easier to deal with, but of course that was their opinion. /Destroy... I must get to that thread quick mine... I don't think I can hold the urges anymore./ 'Just a little longer pal. The Weyrleader looks as if he's just about ready to lead us into battle.'

Watching as the bronze pair rise with a troubled, yet contented face, F'con glared at his brother before letting loose the reins on Jackreth's mind. Feeling the darkness envelope them, the search rider felt time pass slowly for them, but a few moments later they passed back into the real world. Grinning as he felt his Blue tremble beneath his body, F'con forced Jackreth to wait for their commands. Fighting thread needed a team effort, unlike some dragonback fighting....

Kaegan and Millieth

If she was anything at all, Kaegan was nervous, absolutely nervous beyond belief. She had never fought thread before, in fact she had never fought anything before, not even against the weyrlings that she knew when she staid at Benden. If F'rah had been fidgeting, the Weyrwoman was a twitching wreak as she obsessed over making sure her flamethrower nozzle was clean of all residue. Clearly ignoring anyone who greeted her, Kaegan immersed herself in checking over every single bit and piece of her weapon and her riding straps. Although her nervousness could not only be attributed to the impending thread fight, but to the fact that Millieth had began to glow brighter than she had been glowing before. At the moment, Kaegan wanted nothing more than to refuse the obvious fact that her dragon was indeed about to rise.

/Kaeganmine get your head in the situation! Stop worrying you'll do fine... we'll do fine and anyways. We have both the Weyrligmaster and his assistant Weyrlingmaster, plus Aslath and Shmee. Our team will win... we will prevail!/ Choking on her spit as Millieth growled loud and happily, Kaegan whipped the tears from the eyes that the choking had induced. 'You're right... but... I can't stop.... shaking.'

Then suddenly, the Weyrleader's bronze jumped into the air with a bugle. Waiting for Shmee to disappear first, Kaegan and Millieth then followed with the rest of their wing, it wasn't before long before they could see the thread as it fell into the ocean. It was about to begin... and Kaegan didn't know if she could even move.

(*shotkilled for the Highschool musical playoff line*)

[ravenmane]

His entire body was tense as he waited for the time Thread would fall across Pern's great skies. The rider had risen with the dawn, to excited to sleep past the sun's appearance in Selenitas's sky. P'nor had check and rechecked his gear an uncountable amount of times. Horrible simulations of what could happen to the dragons during Threadfall ran through his mind nonstop. Only knowing that his training would helped him kept the man from pacing nervously. His hazel eyes strayed to S'rei's current position. Seeing his Weyrleader prepare to leave, P'nor mentally beckoned to his beast to come. Thread was coming.

Cyanth had waited most of the day in a silent mood. Soon, he would risk himself to protect Selenitas, his home, and everyone who loved there. He crouched near the rest of his Wing, prepared for when they would all depart. At his rider's call, the great beast heaved himself to his full height. He waited momentarily for P'nor to reach the saddle before he leaped into the air. The giant Bronze hovered near his Wing, waiting for Salenth to relay their targeted position to the dragons. Then, he winked /between/. Cyanth entered above the shore with a might bugle. It was time to fight the ancient enemy that had plagued Pern for generations.

[Requiem]

(I won't have time to actually write in my characters right now, but we'll get things started!)

Narration:

Thread draws closer to the shoreline. Now the dragonpairs can make out details. All four wings of Alpha Flight have formed up in forward vees after coming out of Between. The wind is blowing into the faces of the dragons, so the wings are ordered to stagger on their approach, with Martial just ahead - and well above - Sterling, and so-on down to Solar. The Weyrleader gives the signal, and the wings advance toward the leading edge of Thread.

Martial (High-Altitude)

The wind is blustery, but, so far, pretty straightforward. Thread is thick, clumping and twisting in erratic patterns. The vee begins cutting a swath through it. Thread shrivels against the flame, turning to dust.

A clump of Thread escapes the first bursts of flame, nearly catching Salenth's left wingtip. The bronze veers just in time. Writhing, it is falling directly into Thorith's path.

Amidst the clogging dust, a single strand of Thread has survived the fires of the right leg of the vee. It coils, almost knowingly, falling directly for Cyanth's right wingsail. If the bronzepair doesn't notice in time...

An errant gust of wind sends a wall of Thread directly toward the flanks of Sitath and Wrenth. They will have to use all their skill to evade the silvery strands, though Rodonth's help might swing things in their favor.

Arvenith, occupied with a clump of Thread that has escaped the flames of Ranth, does not see the single strand winding for her spine. Will Jackreth notice and warn her?

Solar (Low Altitude)

Things are almost calm at this level. The other wings are getting most of the Thread, leaving Solar with less to worry about - but a wide area to cover.

A charred mass is falling toward the beach. It seems dead, but one might notice the gleam of silver amidst the black. The groundcrew has noted and dismissed it. It falls not far from Styth's flank.

One of Tempest's blues has made a horrible error. Seriously injured, he goes between, leaving a clump of Thread and singed dragonflesh in his wake. The clump falls directly for Millieth.

[Tashe]

F'con and Jackreth:

The adrenaline rush was enjoyable, the danger and the peril of thread fighting made the bluepair oddly happy. Killing the silvery strands of alien organisms with their fire, both F'con and Jackreth relished the challenge that the erratic stands gave them. So far it had been easy flaming, and it was a wonder for the man that they could be doing so well for such small numbers. 'Left Jackreth.' /I see it./

Watching as his Blue's fire erupted from his jaws, F'con continued to watch for stray strands of Thread that fell back near them. Constantly looking out for his dragon partner, the ex-Fort rider didn't bother to look at anyone else, effectively missing the strand falling for Arvenith. Although his rider might have missed the falling thread Jackreth had not, and even though he felt no attachment toward any of the dragons of his wing, he quickly wormed his way into the female's mind. /Above you Lady Green, a strand is coming toward your spine./

---

F'rah and Styth

It was calm down where his wing was flying, and if he hadn't known that the wings above him were killing off thread, the Brownpair could have been convinced it was only a training flight. Charred lumps of thread fell everywhere around them in varying thickness of clumps, each of them evenly blackened from the fire of the dragons above them. Occasionally one of the lumps required extra flaming, but those were few and not common, leaving the pair open to look out for the Queens. Barely noticing the large charred lump fall by them at a close range, F'rah was surprised when Styth slowed to catch up with it. 'What...' Noticing the small amount of silver that gleamed in the burned bundle, the Weyrlingmaster cut his sentence off and let his brown do his thing. /They marked this as inactive. They need to be more careful!/ 'Yeah...'

Urging Styth to catch up with the rest of the formation, F'rah helped his dragon maneuver around a falling piece of destroyed thread as they rejoined the group. It was only a few seconds before the pair noticed the large cluster of thread falling toward the Queen pair. 'STYTH!'

/Junior Weyrwoman! Millieth! Above you!/

---

Kaegan and Millieth:

It wasn't as bad as she had thought it would be, it wasn't fun, but it wasn't to scary either. At random times during their flight, Kaegan had to use the flamethrower for small pieces of thread that escaped the barrage above them, but it wasn't hectic as it could have been. For her first thread flight, everything was in optimal conditions, and so far she heard nothing about anyone getting hurt. But of course this was only the first part of the fall, there was still hours of flaming to do, and the harsh winds were making the thread above them hard to predict. /I told you. We'll be fine.../ 'Yeah. To your one o'clock...'

Feeling Millieth angle slightly so she could use her flamethrower, Kaegan felt the power of the machine rumble under her hands before it destroyed the rope of thread. It wasn't long before a report from the ground crew came, one of the tempest wing had 'betweened' and had become seriously injured. A few seconds later a voice erupted in her head... /Above you!/

Twisting around to look above her, Kaegan squeaked as she saw the rapidly descending piece of thread. 'Millieth!' Although her Queen hadn't needed another prompt to dive down and forward, bringing them out of serious danger and breaking the formation. Spinning around in a painful turn, the goldpair were able to flame the bundle of writhing thread. It took a few seconds of following it down before it was completely dead, but at least they had done it.

Feeling her dragon propel themselves back toward the Solar Wing, Kaegan let the tremor of shock pass through her before trying to expel it. Right now it would do no good to become afraid, especially since her team was so diligently looking out for her. The least she could do as put on a brave front. Rejoining the Wing after a few minutes, the young woman asked Millieth to thank Styth for her.

/Thank you Styth. If you had not warned us.../

/It is no problem. It is our duty to protect our Queens, that is why Salenth's mine assigned us to your wing./

[Administrator]

Shmee was excited, nervous, tense, and determined... Her first Threadfall. This was her truest duty, set in stone even before Selenitas was even conceived... The duty of dragonriders. To char thread in the sky, to protect their beautiful land of Pern! Shmee was excited to partake in this. To her, it was almost like a rite of passage. Yet it was also a frightening idea. What if she did something stupid and got herself scored? Well, she had been careful about learning her drills. She'd be fine, she told herself. She was a queenrider. She was smart. She could do this. Fortunately, Aslath didn't get that side of Shmee's feelings. Rather, she picked up on the excitement. For so long, Aslath had restrained herself from flying after Thread herself. But now, with another queenrider in their wings, she could finally soar, and destroy this menace! Shmee fidgeted with her flamethrower for a moment, turning to the others in her wing.

Vanishing between, she knew these few second would be the last without Thread. Taking a deep breath as they emerged, this very well could have been another drill... except this time, the threat was real. Leading her wing in the low altitude, the first Thread charred by her flamethrower was exhilarating. Aslath bugled triumphantly as Shmee basked in her victory. Take that, Red Star!

--

D'vin's scowl was hard as he emerged into the still air. This danger, at least, was a natural one. Numerous times had left D'vin flying against dragon, but Thread was a welcome relief and a better memory. This was good danger. Needing to worry about other dragons was a bad type of danger. Following in the back of the wing, he kept one eye on the people in front of him, but only one. They had trained; they knew what to do. All D'vin was thinking of now was of him and Hiriarth and the silver evils.

Dropping a hunk of firestone to Hiriarth from the sack, he watched anxiously at the gray sky as the brown chomped on the stone. Hiriarth rumbled, the firestone taking effect in his second stomach. Let's go![/color] the brown announced, and flew towards the first bit of Thread, keeping in their formation. With a heavy belch, Hiriarth charred the Thread, back in his comfort zone, his primitive desire purring in satisfaction.

--

Lura was... pissy. Wonderful way too kick off the Fall. Hands tightening on her straps, she showed no emotion as Anemith, glowing with pre-Flight, chewed on her firestone with the fury Lura was suppressing. Why she was so angry was a mystery, though it was probably because of how extraordinarily proddy Anemith was. She had been even more strict with Liralla lately, almost to an extent where she had to put her into Beka's care more often than not. No matter. Today would be a good release of tension.

--

Robika looked rather... listless. Yet she was quietly determined, her need to vanquish Thread as strong as ever. Since Kmarath's Flight, she had been solemn, to say the least. But at she had the spark to fight again. And that was what she was going to do! Stroking Kmarath's hide, she looked around at the other riders to see how they were doing. Kmarath was chewing stone, preparing herself to belch it up in fiery gas. Robika needed to fight. Kmarath shot flame at the nearest strands of Thread, and Robika's need to fight quietly fumed.[/size]

[lilliana]

((Have to go, I'll post I'ir later today.))

Mariyelle flattened herself on her dragon's neck as the green whipped around to flame the clump that had escaped the notice of one of the other dragons. Arvenith, preoccupied with charring this bunch of Thread, failed to notice a lone strand, making its way towards her spine. The dragonpair could not see directly behind them, and the silvery piece was nearing dangerously close to the green's spine...

Above you Lady Green, a strand is coming toward your spine.

Completing a small dive, Arvenith brought herself around, snaking her head towards the errant strand of Thread to flame it. As it shriveled and fell as charred dust, the green resumed her place admist the formation. Good work, dearest. Now -- watch that clump right there. I know. I see it. Tilting her triangular head in a brief moment towards Jackreth before going to char, Arvenith quickly sent out a few words. Thank you, Jakreth...[/color] But that was all she had time for before getting caught up once more in the excitement, in the adrenaline rush, of fighting her nemesis. [/size]

[saberlin]

R'ton and Rodonth were finally aloft again with a Wing of their own. Or rather, seconding to S'rei and Salenth. Still, the pair was happy to be in the air again doing what they did best. Flaming Thread. Rodonths wings pumped strong and sure, never wavering off course. When a stray strand or two of thread got through one of the upper wings he was there to flame it from the sky. If one of his wing mates needed an alert, he was the extra pair of eyes to let them know it was coming.

Sitath, Wrenth, evade now. Thread to your flanking side!

The large bronze and rider skipped between and to the outer edge of the thread flaming the stuffs from tail end forward as to not blast either dragon with his hot breath.

"Good job buddy. Keep it up. Nice easy spurts."

I know. We must last through the fall.

[Requiem]

Narration

The first few sweeps are fairly successful, but the wind is picking up, especially in the higher altitudes. The falling Thread is becoming highly unpredictable. It swirls in random eddies, coming from various directions as different gusts of wind pick up different clumps. In fact, some of the Thread is actually being blown upwards. As the wings emerge from the trailing edge, Salenth passes the order down the wings to go into more manueverable formations, before they lose anyone else.

Martial Wing (High Altitude)

Arvenith successfully evades the Thread, thanks to Jackreth. However, just ahead of her, Ranth is overtaken by a clump of Thread that suddenly changes directions. The green screams horribly, trained to go between, but too consumed by the pain burrowing into her to act rationally. She writhes, throwing herself directly into Arvenith's path - and disappears between with a raucous keen.

The order to go to the scatter formation is then issued by Salenth as the wing is passing through the trailing edge of Thread. They turn, the formation adjusting even as they wheel. Opeith is brought in to replace Ranth in the formation. Salenth, Hiriarth, Rodonth, and Corth lead their smaller formations back into their ancient enemy, Salenth's diamond leading the wing.

Corth is commanded to keep slightly below and behind Salenth's diamond. Rodonth and Hiriarth are given free rein to do what must be done; they can see more of what's going on than Salenth from their position behind him.

On Rodonth's end, a particularly nasty eddy comes into being, pulling the Thread upwards through a vague funnel shape and then spitting it out in random directions. If this problem isn't seen to immediately, there could be a lot of dragons going down, scored...and far too much of it will end up in the middle altitudes.

A gust of wind blasts a veritable wall of Thread toward Jackreth and Arvenith. Although they shouldn't have much trouble flaming the dangerous organism before it reaches them, it distracts Jackreth from the danger approaching on his left flank in the form of a single strand. Hiriarth is in a position to see this threat, if he happens to look.

Solar Wing (Low Altitude)

At first things are relatively sedate. The upper wings are doing a fine job of catching most of the Thread before it comes into the lowest altitude. But as conditions worsen up above, more and more Thread is getting through. Salenth's order to switch to more manueverable formations is passed down, but Solar Wing is small as it is. Their only option is perhaps going to a more defensible formation...though that is Alsath's call.

Not long after the Flight begins their first sweep after the formation change, Salenth blasts a warning to both queens. Bronze Haloth is in a freefall, seriously scored. Pandemonium breaks out in the middle altitude above, sending mass of Thread that the dragonriders have missed raining down on Solar Wing. Aslath is in a position to receive the brunt of it. Lenorath immediately twists upwards, trying to destroy most of it before it can reach the senior queen.

That leaves Millieth to somehow catch the falling Haloth while Thread continues to rain down around her, and Styth in the unenviable position of trying to watch out for everyone in the wing while the golds are distracted.

S'rei and Salenth

Shouting out for silence from several members of the Tempest wing, Salenth whirls sharply, bringing the diamond to bear against a thick clump of writhing Thread. Kliminth. You are the wingsecond. Take charge! Things are no better up here than they are down there. Exasperated, Salenth immediately availed Ermieth of the situation, in the event that Tempest would not be able to pull itself back together after losing their wingleader. Kliminth seemed to recover from his shock, though, and soon the middle altitude was functioning again.

Reaching out to Aslath, he was relieved to find her mind focused. She must have managed all right for those frightening few moments. Good. He had other things to worry about. Bringing his attention firmly back to the Thread falling around him, he stopped relying on S'rei's mental nudges as completely. Salenth dipped into a sharp dive, coming against Thread that had been caught in an updraft, even as he continued to listen to the steady stream of reports from his wingleaders and the Martial wingseconds. It had gotten off to a rocky start, but it seemed that these formations were working better than could be expected.

F'lan and Wrenth

Wrenth had noted the Thread quickly bearing up on him, instinctively twisting into a shallow dive away from the rest of the vee, coming up behind to attempt to flame it - and very nearly got his wingtip burned off for his troubles. With a sharp bark of surprise, the blue evaded Rodonth's flames, dropping lower and climbing back up steeply so as to flame more of the Thread before it could reach Sitath. Some still got through, but he was fairly certain his wingmate would be fine.

Tell me when you're going to do that! the blue snapped, the adrenaline making him sharp, as he fell back into place. He hadn't expected Rodonth to make that short jump between. And, at the moment, his hearts were still in his throat, and he forgot about rank. That was close!

They responded to Salenth's command with eagerness, Wrenth winging swiftly toward the edge of Threadfall again, barely keeping himself from moving out ahead of the rest. This was challenging, and an elation was sweeping through him. Wrenth sent out burst after burst of flame, waiting for Rodonth's direction, and content that the bronze would notice any danger he was in before it hit. Despite F'lan's opinion of R'ton, Wrenth and faith in the bronze. Even if Rodonth quite nearly had burnt his wing off a few moments ago.

[Tashe]

Now was the time that everything was happening, the winds made the thread fly everywhere, in fact the Blue pair had to dance around quite a few strands before they were able to flame them. 'Jackreth catch.' Watching as his Blue quickly swung his head around, F'con threw some firestone to him, it had been time to refuel. Imminently turning their focus back onto the fighting, the Dragonpair were able to see the wall of thread heading their way.

Instinctively switching their reliances onto the closest dragon and rider, in this case Arvenith, the bluepair wheeled themselves toward the oncoming wall. Training their attention on the thread and Arvenith, F'con and Jackreth began to flame their enemy, completely unaware of the strand coming straight for them.

=-=-=-=

Thread had yet to escape the upper layers of the thread fighting force above them, leaving the solar wing to glide and occasionally flame the random half charred thread. Though before long, chaos broke loose in one of the higher altitude wings, causing Thread to rain down around them. Veering away from the strands so that Kaegan could reach them with her flamethrower, the Gold pair had to break away from the formation just to get to all of the thread in their sector. What was in reality only a few minutes, felt like hours to the Dragonpair as they had to do some complicated maneuvers to get the flamethrower close enough to the thread.

As if the close range flaming wasn't hard enough, the pair got the information on the free falling bronze. Flaming a final piece of thread, Kaegan and Millieth angled upward and toward Haloth, narrowly missing thread while on their ascent. Twisting around in a tight turn as the Bronze and his rider hurdled past them, the large golden Queen pumped her wings hard. Passing by the bronze like he had done with them, Millieth took her time in leveling them out before attempting to latch onto the male. With a quick burst of speed and a cat like flex of her body, the Queen was some how able to catch the bronze, although it took some work to slow the four of them down. /SHARDS. Hes.... heavy.../ 'THREAD!'

They couldn't maneuver fast enough to get out of the way without dropping the dragon they had in their grasp... desperation began to take hold of the pair...

=-=-=-=-=

The subdued nature of the air in the lowest wing continued on as if nothing was ever going to go wrong, but that thought was soon thrown out the door with a vengeance. Something had gone horribly wrong with the wings above them, causing thread to rain down onto the brownrider and the rest of his wing. Switching their attention from one of their Queens to the other, Styth and F'rah quickly began to work on killing the thread that was falling harshly around them. Between tossing firestones to the Brown and pointing out thread, it was a wonder that the Weyrlingmaster even noticed the thread that was heading toward Millieth as she finished catching Haloth.

/Kmarath! Help Aslath if those two need it! Watch out for escaping thread!/

Veering off at a quickened pace toward the fair amount of thread that was falling toward the Junior Queen, the Brownpair burned the thread as soon as they reached it. To busy with the thread around their youngest Gold, Styth and F'rah couldn't help with the Bronze load.

[Administrator]

Following Salenth's intruction, Aslath told Shmee and the other dragons to change position. Keeping her position in the middle, she lead the others on, letting herself relax a bit. The upper wings were doing well, and there wasn't much need to exercise the use of her flamethrower. Flinching at the keening of Ranth's passing, she shook her head. Time for mourning was later. Hearing Salenth's warning, Aslath trumpeted in alarm, her second warning to her wing. Shmee looked up, paling immediately at the sight of all the Thread blowing her way. As she readied, the flamethrower, she panicked slightly, her hands shaking on the flamethrower. Aslath bugled again, bringing Shmee back to her senses. Aiming the flamethrower skyward, she paused. Lenorath?! And... was that Haloth over there, falling?! Trying not to be distracted, Aslath sent the call over to the blue, Be careful, Lenorath! She didn't want anyone to get hurt... Shmee shot the flamethrower to the approaching Thread, trying to avoid Lenorath, but hit as much Thread as she could. There was going to be no way it would slip through the skies on her watch.

When the ordeal was over, Aslath quickly touched Salenth's mind, letting him know that they were okay. But oddly, both of them felt good. They had fought Thread, and they flamed it to dust. They helped save Pern, even if it was just those few strands. People depeded on them to do it, and they did it. It felt good to be able to say that they actually were fulfilling their destiny as a dragon and rider.

--

D'vin, too, flinched as Ranth winked between for the last time. A death this early was not a good sign, especially at a little Weyr like Selenitas. But they needed to keep going. Charring a nasty tangle of Thread, the brownrider chanced a look up at the wing. All was in order, save for the moment when Ranth vanished. This, at least, could be considered a blessing. D'vin gave Hiriarth a firm pat, but the brown seemed to not have noticed. Something else had caught the dragon's eye. Something silver.

JACKRETH, behind you![/color] he trumpeted. D'vin's look did not change even after he realized the other rider's plight. Hiriarth was in no position to get it-- someone closer would have to take care of it, preferably Jackreth himself. They couldn't used another dragon death today.

--

Lura watched, wide-eyed, as the green went between. That green dragon could've been Anemith... Shaking her dark head, she felt Anemith give her gentle, loving mental-caresses. It is all right. It is not us,[/color] she replied soothingly. The greenrider clutched her riding straps firmly as her mind-partner charred another strand of Thread. She didn't like the idea of what would happen if it was them. No-- she needed to finish the day cuddling with Liralla. Smiling, she plowed through. All for I'ir and Liralla, her happy family.

--

Robika's eyes widened at the multiple accidents all at once. Torn between wanting to help N'call and defend Shmee at the same time as wanting to mourn the loss of Ranth and J'fer. Resisting the urge to submit to weaker emotions, she brushed her mind against Kmarath's, who crooned as soon as the last of the smoke trickled from her mouth.

It is all right, love,[/color] Kmarath told Hers quickly before preparing another belch of flame.

Grunting as Kmarath heard Styth's call, she paused, in wait, ready to spring forward at any moment to protect her queen. But she needed to stay back, as well. If Thread had gotten through her... She didn't want to be faced with the guilt.[/size]

[ravenmane]

((I'm such a lazy bum. Cyanth's gonna be horribly Threadscored. I feeling like having him wounded again.))

As Thread began to rain down on them, Cyanth bugled with excitement. He would char the ancient enemy from the sky and protect his home from destruction. P'nor whooped with glee as the giant Bronze blackened a patch over head. The thrill of Fighting Thread caught up with the fighting pair, and they made a mistake.

A single snow white strand of Thread drifted onto Cyanth's wingsail. The Bronze shrieked with pain as his wingsail was scored horribly. P'nor urged Cyanth to take comfort /between/ but the panicked dragon could only cry in pain. Finally blinking to the cold safety of /between/, Bronze Cyanth appeared over the Weyr. His right wing was horribly Threadscored from the small strand.

The pained beast drifted awkwardly to the ground, whimpering as he tried to fold his injured wing. P'nor quickly removed himself from Cyanth's back to inspect the damage. Already two drudges and a healer tended to the wound, slathering the wing with numbweed. //I should have see the Thread, Mine. I'm sorry. We should be in the skies instead of here.//

Cyanth crooned, trying to stop winching from the pain. P'nor shook his head before laying his hand on the dragon's shoulder. "Don't worry, Cyanth. You'll heal quickly and we'll be back in the sky fighting Thread like we were born to do." The man gave a weak smile as he watched the healer work on his friend. Cyanth would heal fast. It was something the Bronze was good at.

[missa]

Sitath swerved as the warning brushed against his mind, forcing the blue to twist almost unnaturally to avoid the snaking silver strands. Rondoth helped, then Wrenth, and finally the few strands that escaped were charred as Sitath let out the flame.

Would you remember to warn me? Zadari snapped unhappily, though obeyed in handing him more firestone, her fingers stroking his hide affectionately as the blue chuckled mentally.
I will try.[/color] Of course, he didn't promise, no Zadari knew Sitath better than that. Besides, she knew he couldn't promise that. Couldn't promise to warn her when he was going to snake to the side to avoid something.

~*~

Thorith- D'ran's senternce was cut of as Thorith moved backwards enough to flame the thread quickly, speaking very softly as he did so. As though trying reassure His as well as stop excitement leaking into his tone.
I saw. Stop worrying- The browns voice cut off as a green screamed, forcing him to whirl, D'ran's eyes widening at the sight.

She betweened, and D'ran's eyes closed for a brief moment.
Thorith be-
Careful, I know. Sadness laced the Brown's tone now, the excitement of the fight draining from it with teh first death.

[Requiem]

Narration

Despite the pandemonium that broke out for a few frightening minutes, things begin to go smoothly again. The upper and middle wings find their stride, and the lower one is again just clearing up the occasional missed Thread. Southern Hold is within sight when a dragon's scream pierces the air from the Queen's wing. It takes a few precious seconds for the Flight to realize what is happening...

Solar Wing (Low Altitude)

Lenorath never sees them coming. One moment, she is edging out away from the wing to flame an errant strand of Thread. In the next, a great gout of flame streams across her flank. The blue twists. Someone must have lost track of her! But then the claws slash her back, catching and impaling Meri through the chest. Lenorath goes between, keening.

In the next moment, three browns and two blues slam into the queens' formation. The browns immediately descend upon Millieth, Aslath and Styth, while the blues swarm Kmarath. Eriannath should be called in, but will any of the leaders think to do so?

The largest of the browns, heavily scarred and battle-hardened, rakes toward Aslath, attempting to drive her away from her wing in case one of his followers fails. He breathes a wall of fire directly at her face.

Millieth is being flanked by a brownpair just out of weyrlinghood. They care not whether they live or die. All that matters to them is the mission. He snakes forward to attempt to take a bite out of her haunch.

It is the eldest of the three browns that places himself between Styth and the rest of the wing. He makes no move to attack the brown, waiting patiently. Styth is duty-bound to protect his queens. The brown knows this, and he waits for the wingsecond to make the first move.

The two blues circle Kmarath, blocking any chance of escape unless she dares to skip between. They are closing in on her.

Martial Wing (High Altitude)

The shock of the attack on the Queens' wing doesn't have enough time to settle. Almost as soon as the message is passed through Martial Wing, another wing of dragons erupts inside their formations. A group detaches, taking Rathiloth in a wall of flame before the brown can react. He and His don't even have a chance to go between. The blackened lump that used to be the dragonpair plummets to the earth far below.

Another group targets the flighthealer's sub-formation. From pure happenstance, Opeith manages to get in their way, and their primary target is unaffected. The green, however, is slashed to ribbons, pouring green ichor. She jumps between with a resonating scream.

No one has time to grieve. Salenth calls for the wing to go to the Blossom formation, insisting that all dragonpairs of Martial who are in decent health come. He leads his flight from the falling thread, with strict commands that Ermieth take over and not involve his Flight in the firefight. Otherwise, the hold will be unprotected.

All around them, dragons. Flaming. Diving. Slashing.

S'rei and Salenth
Twisting and turning, Salenth struggles to evade the dragons that have painted him. He skips between to a higher altitude, attempting to get a better view of what's going on around him. It's a full wing, Salenth. Eighteen dragons at first glance. And Aslath... We can't do anything for her right now. A popping sound is all the warning they have. Salenth folds his wings into a tight dive, roaring to warn his own dragons of his plummet. He pulls up in a tight barrel roll, before passing between one of the dragons harrying Hiriarth's flank.

Wrenth and F'lan

The formations have broken up, at least for now. Wrenth attempts to maintain a loose circle around Salenth, but it's of little use, not when everyone is evading for their lives all around, locked in their own little battles. F'lan's eyes narrow as he recognizes one of the dragons winging straight for him. An old, old friend from the dragon wars in the north. Wrenth dips low, turning abruptly and skipping between in a pattern that can hardly be discerned or followed. The bluepair doesn't have the time to engage in old rivalries. His gaze seeks out Rodonth, the bronze beleaguered by dragons on all sides.

That is where he's needed.

Reysalth and Lauranna

Reysalth responds to Salenth's command immediately, erupting from between slightly above the struggling wings of dragons. For a long moment, the greenpair finds themselves disoriented, unable to distinguish their own wing from that of the enemy. The enemy? Reysalth has never fought another dragon before. She hesitates. The green that peels off from the battle and climbs toward her makes up her mind. Reysalth lets out a screech, twisting away from the spout of flame and diving downward, her talons raking forward to catch this other green along the spine.

As ichor sprays up from the other's wounds, Reysalth feels vaguely noxious, but she has no time for emotional reactions. Her dive takes her directly into the middle of a firefight between Hiriarth, Thorith, and a good four Benden dragons, scattering them. The green backwings, before seeking out Salenth. He must be in there somewhere...