Fashionably Late [Hepaticath's Maiden Flight]

[kysseh]

Twitch. Twitch. Flick.

Were Savitri not about to have a small fit of anxiety over the state of things to occur, she would have been amused by the scene before her eyes. Hepaticath was, for once in her life, truly and deeply asleep on her couch in mid-morning while Vira, in her kittenish clumsiness, attempted to eat the queen’s twitching tailtip. The young gold was too far gone in sleep to even notice the little feline’s antics, an odd occurrence indeed considering how sensitive the queen normally was. Hepaticath never slept deeply. As a matter of fact, Hepaticath never slept inside after dawn. She was either out and about or napping on the weyrledge once the sun was up, and the mere fact that the queen was asleep inside would have been enough to alert Savitri that something was amiss. Of course… there was always the simple fact that the queen had woken at dawn, as was her habit, and stayed awake for a brief candlemark. During that time, Savitri had been treated to a litany of grievances, the ridiculousness of which had almost prompted her to laughter. Hepaticath… throwing a private temper tantrum. How precious, she had thought. Then the queen had retreated to her couch and curled up into a massive honey-gold ball to sleep, and Savitri had been left with an unusual silence in the back of her mind. Not. Good.

Mine says she has your hatchling that is not still an egg. a smugly familiar voice informed her, and Savitri’s face contorted into a mild scowl at the recognition of Tanith’s voice. Apparently, Savitri had been staring blankly at Hepaticath and Vira for long enough that she had not noticed Aliscia take temporary custody of Kalerary. Sharding greenrider could have warned her. With so much else on her mind, Savitri had had no real warning of what was going to occur within the next few candlemarks. Oh, of course, Hepaticath Rising for the first time had been an inevitable and almost overdue occurrence, but… really, did it have to be now?! Maybe Ka’rys had known or seen some warning sign--it would certainly have explained his… err… attentiveness--but inexperienced as she was, Savitri had been wholly unprepared for the much-anticipated event to occur… today. One of the goldrider’s hands strayed anxiously over her bulging abdomen, concerned for the child that was contentedly kicking her in the diaphragm. Surely, even in Flightlust, she could be careful, couldn’t she?

The sudden surge of hunger in her mind cast aside those fears in the new urgency of dealing with an awakened Hepaticath, and she instinctively moved toward her roused dragon in a feeble attempt to soothe the ravenous creature. The eye that opened and focused on her, though, was an alarmingly unfamiliar shade of bright purple, and Savitri suddenly felt very, very small in comparison to her mindmate. She had one hand extended almost plaintively toward the queen as the long tail uncurled with a flick, helplessly flinging Vira across the floor and sending the feline scampering under Savitri’s desk with a great deal of protesting yowls. Massive wings half-opened in the cramped space, the only warning before Hepaticath was out onto her ledge and airborne before Savitri could speak a word.

So shocked was Savitri by the suddenness of her gold’s exit and the utter lack of focus on Hers that she failed to realize that she was still standing dumbly in Hepaticath’s part of their weyr, dressed only in her nightshift and barefoot with swollen ankles and mildly tousled hair. Yes, quite the picture of leadership and order, she was, just staring in bewilderment and no small amount of fear after her mindmate. Only when she realized Hepaticath’s intentions toward the milling, bleating herdbeasts at the feeding grounds did the young woman come to her senses, face tightening with tension as she fought to get control of the snarling queen.

Blood only!

Any dragon--or human, for that matter--familiar with the younger of the weyr’s queens would scarce have recognized her as she swept gracefully and with piercing focus over the feeding grounds. Gone was the dignified yet amiable creature, the female who happily conversed with any dragon who strayed near. No, the predator who bowled into the herd was hellbent on bloodshed and chaos, and Savitri, still standing in her weyr, flinched slightly at the voraciousness that Hepaticath exuded. Hepaticath, poised over her prey, was tossing her head and screaming her fury at being forced to obey Savitri, but instinct and the goldrider’s stubborn and insistent orders won in the end. The second beast was less of a fight than the first, and by the time Hepaticath was snarling at the sound of male wingbeats and taking down her third beast, it became obvious that the young gold had given up on fighting that irksome command for just the hot, spicy, rich blood. The fourth and the fifth were snatched and drained without protest, and the fact that the queen’s hissing had stopped was indication enough of what was to come.

The shining, bloodied head lifted slowly, turned on an arched neck that was obviously posed just so for the sake of appearances. The wings opened slowly and then furled again, tucking into the queen’s back with deceptive ease and slowness as the hunger for blood ceased and the need to fly overtook the queen. Those feelings surged powerfully, and in the blink of an eye, Hepaticath flung herself skyward, screaming her challenge to those pathetic, slow little creatures that attempted to call themselves male. Ha! How scornful she was of their slowness, their little wings and clumsy movements, their tiny bodies. Dare they even try to catch the true queen of Pern? Oh, but she would show them what a true queen could do! She was already over the jungle and streaking up, up, and away with no regard for Hers, who had completely fallen into Hepaticath’s consciousness with the first issue of the challenge. No thought was for anything but for the sky and the flying away and the males who were-

…. Were they even off the ground yet?

[glamourie]

What a sight Ka’rys made, sprawled out in the furs still, face-down, arms wound around his pillow, drooling. To the casual viewer, he looked to be the perfect image of comfort, and from the way the blankets slung low on his waist, it was very obvious that a certain bronze rider was lacking in any kind of clothing. He had a late night -- trying to stake his claim on Savitri in a not-so-subtle manner. He’d gone to sleep nervous, though, being Ka’rys, he was too proud to ever say that he was anxious. It didn’t take a genius - or a bronze rider - to recognize the signs in Hepaticath. The fact that Ciceroth had so helpfully gone to sleep on Salenth’s ledge as opposed to in their weyr was the most blatant indication of what was to come. Salenth and S’rei were gone - who knew where - and Ciceroth was sure his fellow bronze wouldn’t mind sharing his ledge for the night. He’d rested, lounging on the far edge of the ledge, and Ka’rys… quite deliberately kept his weyrmate up all night. Perhaps not the most considerate of actions, but it was comforting in some ways. In the back of his mind, he couldn’t help but wonder - wonder if she’d even still want him if she woke up with someone else in her furs. (And a lesser part of his mind wondered where Ciceroth would be sleeping if that was the case.)

Once he’d fallen asleep, he was out though - out like a light. That was right around sunrise, when Ciceroth finally woke; ironic, really. The bronze sprawled out languidly, stretched himself out on his usurped weyrledge… and then he hunted. As was typical of a bronze before a queen flight, he’d hunted down and killed several herd beasts, and blooded them dry. The tender meat was flung aside, discarded; he would not be weighed down by gorging himself to the point of exhaustion. Interestingly, despite flinging the bodies around as if they were nothing, Ciceroth was a very neat eater. He kept the blood from his face, and when he rose back to his ledge to watch for Hepaticath below, he looked for all the world to be at ease. His front two legs folded over one another sphinx-style, and his tail twitched animatedly, eyes whirling. He made no effort to rouse His. Rys would be waking up soon enough anyway.

His wings twitched, antsy. He, unlike Ka’rys, was not so insecure. He knew Hepaticath adored him; she’d never made any effort to hide the blatant affection. His only concern was that, adored or not, he did not invalidate his competition. Yes, he was by far the best bronze to ever hatch on Pern - just look at his glorious hide! - but that didn’t change that other bronzes… existed. He would have liked to push them away, to holds nearby, or somewhere else - anywhere far from him. He didn’t know how he was going to do just that, but… Ciceroth loathed the idea of losing Hepaticath to anyone. Sharing was not one of his strong points, especially not where she was concerned. Part of that possessiveness was run-off; certainly not all entirely Ciceroth, but he still felt an odd sense of kinship; Hepaticath was the only dragon he spoke to often, after all.

So when a golden blur burst from the cavern, practically bolting toward the hunting grounds, Ciceroth gracefully stood up and sprawled as far as he could. He didn’t show off, though; the stretching was for practical purposes more than anything else. Last time he’d chased a queen, he sprained his wing. He was not about to make the same mistake. Each wing was stretched out carefully before he leapt into the air, a vision of grace despite his massive size. Serpentine and slender, Ciceroth wove upward and glided out of the canyon toward the hunting grounds, where he landed far enough away from Hepaticath as to avoid attracting her sire. He did not make himself comfortable on the ground, however; instead he simply gazed at her, purple filling his usually blue-whirling eyes. He twitched his tail back and forth like an agitated feline and admired her - for there was no other way to describe the way he gazed; a mingling of desire and definite fondness. She was his favorite dragon, after all… no matter how brutal and bloody she became. Surely she knew that, though.

Aware of stirring in the back of his mind, Ciceroth mentally brushed Ka’rys and found alarm. The bronze rider had rolled over and… yes, discovered Hepaticath missing. The feelings washing over him from Ciceroth were already close to overwhelming - but that was not unusual. Their connection was so intense that he was absorbed near instantly in every flight. Only a sense of nervousness kept him from completely falling into the sensations his bronze was feeling - nervousness wrought primarily from the fact that he was afraid he was going to lose Savitri permanently. Not entirely rational was that thought, but somehow he would have felt better if Ciceroth did not participate at all - at least then, losing was expected, and it wasn’t her picking someone else over him. He was weyrbred; he expected flights to happen. He just didn’t have very much luck with gold riders acting rational after their dragons Rose. Had Shmee not blamed him, accused him of brutalizing her to other people, because of Aslath’s flight? Savitri was no Shmee, but he was also a lot more fond of her. Her opinion mattered.

Where’s Kale -- Ciceroth, Kalerary is taken care of? She’s not going to come wandering in here, is she?

That thought alarmed Ciceroth enough that he almost swiveled his head back toward where Ka’rys was. But his gaze was snared on Hepaticath, stolen away. He mentally reassured his rider that the hatchling was, indeed, cared for… and neglected to mention by whom. Telling Ka’rys those details was liable to send his rider into a rage and make him fight their connection, which always made flights more difficult for him, as he became disoriented and felt like he was inside, or wherever Ka’rys happened to be. The vague answer was good enough for Ka’rys, though - a truly rare occasion indeed was it that he would accept a lack of details. Ciceroth stretched out again, his wings spreading, and watched Hepaticath. His gaze flicked to the number of herd beasts she’d polished off and a hint of amusement added to the purple. Five.

And then she took off, rising into the air with a challenge that he answered with a much more subdued bugle of his own; it wasn’t meant to be insulting, far from. He just was not normally that aggressive. Aside from a vague desire to push Corinth over the waterfall with his wings tied down (something he certainly would never have acted on), he wasn’t an entity that was violent. His wings spread and he leapt into the air after the glowing golden form, wings beating to keep up - but not too close, not too close. No insults would be paid, especially not so early. That one movement took all of the fight out of Ka’rys who laid sprawled out in the furs, his mind quickly becoming washed away in the thrill of the chase. She was his gold. He’d claimed her a long time ago. It was only a matter of making it official in the eyes of the rest of the Weyr.

[ravenmane]

It had been so long since he had Chased, but His seemed almost relieved that Triniath had not chosen to take wing after any of the Greens that leaped to the sky with their hides aglow and their voices hanging tantalizing in the air. It was not unusual for him to stay behind when females Rose for long periods of time. Once he was sated, that was that until his body became too deprived to stand it anymore and then he was Chase with his entire will powering him forward. The desire reared back its head suddenly, and Triniath visibly tensed. A Gold more gorgeous then the stars was about to Rise, nearing her time with every beat of her powerful heart. He could see it now in his mind’s eye. She would stir, stretching playfully from her perch before taking to the grounds to Blood. Her hide would glow like starlight had been rubbed into it and her body would be more agile than the wind. The sight would be a dance that no other could rival, more glorious than a perfect sunset, and definitely the greatest thing that Triniath could remember. She would pluck at his heartstrings like an expert musician, and he would be her obedient puppet.

He rose to his feet and stretched to banish the stiffness of his muscles. It all occurred in one fluid motion, a chance that Triniath took to display his physical attributes. His body was well-proportioned, befitting of a Brown like him, and his coloring was a true testament to what he was. A Brown, the dragons placed just between the higher-ups and the lower ranking dragons. No cry blessed the skies to warn the males of the oncoming challenge, but her hide flashed as she launched herself towards the feeding pens. Hepaticath. Beautifully regal Hepaticath. Only the best would stand a chance in her vibrantly colored dance full of passion and terror. He had not Chased a Queen ever before, but this time, this time he planned to Catch this beauty and claim her as his. Triniath soundlessly launched himself into the sky, wings stretched to their fullest length. There were already another male at the Feeding Grounds. Bronze Ciceroth was so far his only rival competing for the glorious Hepaticath. The bronze was older than him by many, but Triniath was strong and would prove himself.

Claws snagged on wriggling herdbeast hide as panicked cries of the doomed reached his ears. It was a merciless slaughter of these animals, but they were bred for food, bred to fill the bellies of the dragons of Pern. Teeth ripped open the throat, releasing the creature’s life force in a flood of red. He drank the copper flavored liquid greedily, his eyes whirling with excitement. Finished draining the creature before him, Triniath reached for another, and began the bloody work again. When a Gold Blooded, it gave her more strength and endurance to evade those that longed to hold her close. As her cry went up, challenging those that had come and those that hadn’t, Triniath crooned almost silently. He never spoke in a Flight except to hum. Sk'ler had never understood that the Brown held no urge to bugle or trumpet when answering a female's cry. No, he simply liked to sing her a song and do his best during the Flight. He launched himself after her, following closely behind Ciceroth. Any other males that arrived were not acknowledged for they held no importance in his eyes.

^{oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo}

Below, on the ground, Sk'ler was clinging to his sanity for dear life. He hated how Flights made him feel, and the fact that this was a Queen Flight was even worse. His position as Wingsecond to the Selenitas Weyrleader was good enough for him. There was no way that he wanted to be Jr. Weyrleader too. Soltun crooned anxiously and the rider waved a hand in an attempt to calm the fire-lizard. Why was His distressed? Wasn't it natural for one to Chase a female? Why was His being so stupid? Three other voices chimed in, Joolree, Voolli, and Skye, as Soltun voiced his question aloud. Then, when Sk'ler finally began to lose ground to the Flightlust, his fire-lizards abandoned him for safer perches. With a final curse, the Brownrider surrendered to his dragon.

[Rei]

Kaaoloth had blooded after Ciceroth, making sure the bronze was well and gone before he descended to feed. It wouldn’t do to meet another male when levels of testosterone where this high. Sucking the last of the remaining blood form his heardbeast, the brown sprang aloft and headed towards the back of the dusty grounds. The brown rumbled in anxiety as he landed not to far away from frightened beasts to wait. Hepaticath would rise today. Kaaoloth intended to give chase and claim the gold as his. One as wonderful as she should not be tainted by the arrogant bronzes. Kaaoloth could hear Sel'n cursing in the back of his mind but he ignored his bonded. All of his attention was reserved for the great gold.

Sel’n wasn’t worried about Kaaoloth catching. Hepaticath was far to big. Her stamina would outlast the brown by far. He was worried about how hard Kaaoloth would push to keep up. Immense stamina the brown had in flight, but still not as much as it would take to catch Hepaticath. Aslath had been puny compared to her daughter. Kaaoloth might have had a chance with her. Millieth was large but not as large as Hepaticath. It seemed size didn’t matter. His brown seemed to take leave of his senses every time a gold flew. The Weyrlingmaster didn’t have long to curse however as a surge of lust nearly bowled him over. Hepaticath had begun her late maiden flight. Sel’n didn’t fight it. He never had. He completely opened up to Kaaoloth, losing himself to the dragon’s emotions. Faranth help them both.

Kaaoloth would have pranced in place if he was physically capable of such an action. Intense whirling purple eyes followed the Hepaticath’s every movement as she viciously slaughtered the beasts to steal their life’s blood. Humming low in his chest the brown watched her. Ciceroth and Triniath’s positions where noted but he offered neither male more than a short glance. Kaaoloth’s eyes where all for the golden beauty in front of him. As she sprang aloft with a cry he echoed her with a bugle of his own. Let the games begin.

Sel’n made his way quickly towards the flight rooms. Where was his gold? His eyes where searching for the golden glow of her wonderful hide. She couldn’t hide for long. Oh no he would find her.

[Kisha-Ra]

R’aro pottered peacefully about his weyr, keenly aware that this was the calm before the storm. Idith had been down to the feeding grounds at false dawn, almost as soon as he was able to see properly. That was unusual for the bronze and R’aro had previously marked early feeding as a sign his dragon had his eye on a female. He had also previously learned that the bronze couldn’t be argued out of his chosen course, so rather than try R’aro had risen peacefully, eaten breakfast, fed Insi, and let Wrath and Pride out to hunt, grateful that the darters would return now that they’d learned where their new home was. Occupying his time with everyday things, and waiting, tensely, for whatever green it was Idith had his eye on to hurry up and Rise.

Idith lay out on his ledge, waiting. There was nothing further to do. Young though he was he’d gotten first pick of the feeding grounds, he thought, picking out three of the very best beasts to sustain him for Hepaticath’s Flight. R’aro did not need to be talked into submission, which was just as well since Idith was so tense he doubted he could be reasonabke, and he did not want R’aro to know it was time for Hepaticath to Rise yet. Not until it was far too late for his rider to try and hide under a rock and panic. That kind of behaviour could really damage Idith’s chances if it distracted him, so he simply wouldn’t let it happen.

Suddenly a streak of gold lit up the sky. At last! Idith hopped to his feet and flared his wings eagerly. This queen was surely meant to be his! But Idith could hardly win if he wasn’t with her could he? Idith neatly, and lazily, dropped off his ledge and made a great downward sweep with his wings to get himself flying rather than falling. He also stopped veiling his intentions from his rider, R’aro might as well know what a glorious queen his dragon chased now.

R’aro turned dead white. No, not Hepaticath. Not Savitri. That was wrong on so many levels, Hepaticath was not only Idith’s sister but also his clutchmate, and Savitri was another man’s weyrmate, another bronzerider’s weyrmate, and pregnant too. The entire idea repulsed and scared R’aro on so many levels. But R’aro wasn’t getting a say in this. All these thoughts and ideas flashed through his mind in the blink of an eye before Idith’s purouse and desire swept him along. He could no more call the bronze back than he could stop the tides.

Idith landed a respectable distance from Hepaticath, marking his rivals with his gaze but other than that ignoring them. They were not the reason for this Flight, and certainly he must have rivals, for if he did not then whom would Idith prove himself against?

After that brief glance around Idith allowed his gaze to settle on Hepaticath. She was primal, powerful, and so very attractive, pouncing on herdbeasts and blooding them. An efficient hunter she was too. Idith approved.

At last, at last the moment came. Idith bounded into the air with a joyous bugle. His gold was Flying!

[dragon]

At first, the young, burly brown hadn't a clue what was going on. But he wasn't as inobservant as he often appeared ... he noticed when all the bronzes and older browns started sitting taller, and almost en masse moving to eat ... but yet not eat. Either hunting or feeding, but never actually eating thier kills. This really interested the young brown. Why? It was peculiar behavior for the brown to suddenly take such a keen interest in. When Millieth had gone up, Frosstyth had been far too young to care or take notice. But now? It was different. Now the young brown was sitting up and taking notice. He was somewhat slow in figuring it out, however, as the glowing form of the said Queen was no where to be seen, sequestered away inside her weyr as she was.

However, once she came out of her weyr and flew with such glowing grace toward the feeding grounds, Frosstyth took notice, swirling eyes completely filled with the image of her magnificent form. A previously unknown desire raced through his veins, prompting him to suddenly move. Move, he did. Suddenly and swiftly, shoving off of the ground and taking wing even before he quite cleared the canopy. The sudden abandonment completely blindsided C'oar, who had been busily cleaning Frosstyth's leathers after his last spur of the moment mud roll.

C'oar blinked, and looked after his retreating dragon, completely confused. "Frosst?" He asked, waking Storm up. The bronze sat up and blinked a few times, also looking after the big brown. The new sensations coming from his dragon also were unfamiliar ... C'oar had heard people talk of such things before, but as he had never felt it before it took him a while to make a connection.

And then he swore up and down and dropped the leathers. "Shardit, Frosst!" He griped, before shaking his head and stalking back toward the weyrs. It was going to be a long walk - he wasn't up to running yet - and he wasn't even sure of where he was supposed to be going. Not at all. All he knew was that Frosstyth was very quickly and vastly taking over his mind. It was not something that C'oar even began to know how to fend off.

Frosstyth landed gingerly on the feeding grounds, enamored with the very sight of the glowing honey golden queen. He watched in fascination as she blooded, for a moment, before the hunger to do the same suddenly attacked him. Again, he noted that she, too, was not eating the meat ... akin to how all the males had been earlier in the day. He wasn't sure what that was supposed to mean or do, but Frosstyth knew there had to be a reason. Stalking around the edges of the scattering, frightened herd, he pounced on one beast himself, and ripped into it's hot neck. Sucking industriously on it, he laid his rump down, holding the body still with one brown hand, all while watching Hepaticath with adoration in his eyes. He wanted her! He wanted her ... it was a new sensation, but one he liked. He wanted her. He would have her!

Appetite piqued, he attacked, and hastily drained a second beast. Time for a third? No, there wasn't ... she was turning and taking to the air. Completely ignoring all the older, larger, and cannier males around him, Frosstyth took to the air to chase her. In silence he flew ... it never even occured to him to say anything, for he shared a trait with his: in his mind, actions meant far more than any words that could be uttered. Mentally or vocally. In complete silence, the young brown pounded at the air with his wings, taking to the air after her.

Never having participated in a flight before, he was not sure what he was supposed to do other than follow ... so follow he did. With some distance between his nose and her tail - all the more to see her better! - he followed exactly on her tail. Every rise, every turn, any motion she made, so to did he. Wherever she went, so to would he go.

[nightingale]

Our queen rises.

“Kei? You alright?” Iro’s thin eyebrows arched questioningly as she glanced down at the bronzerider crouched at her feet. He had been hemming a gather dress for her -one that she had ripped in some of the most awkward and ridiculous ways imaginable-and had been describing his latest tailoring project to her when he had simply frozen, stopping mid-sentence to stare blankly at the floor. “Yo Kei-nine? Hello~?” She repeated, prodding him gently in the chest with her foot. The boy flinched, and hurriedly staggered to his feet. “Queenflight. Don’t follow me.” He murmured, tangling a hand in his dark curls as he tried to remember where the doorway was. The sudden rush of heated blood through his mind was making that task exceptionally difficult...but there it was.
Before his cousin could ask any more questions, he was out the door and chasing after the golden beauty his dragon's lust was burning into his thoughts.

Jaymith drifted in lazy circles around the feeding grounds, the deep shades of blue and violet that swirled across his eyes betraying his tension as he watched Hepaticath tear into beast after beast, spraying the rest of their panicked herd with crimson war paint. How beautiful she was, the young bronze thought appreciatively. The way her magnificent body rippled with predatory strength, haloed in misty golden light as she drained the blood from her final victim. What a prize she would be when he caught her.

When at last she threw herself into the air beside him, Jaymith bellowed his deafeningly approval. Yes! Let the contest begin! He climbed after her, his broad wings and rippling flight muscles driving him effortlessly aloft. He would not be the swiftest or most graceful competitor in this flight by far, but in his mind, the simple fact that he was a prince among bronzes would be more than enough to earn himself a place by her side. His darkly lustrous hide seemed to grow even more dazzling in contrast to his vivid lavender eyes as he banked sharply left of his competition and crooned. If she wasn’t impressed by his sheer size and charisma, he would certainly willing to show her exactly what his fantastic body could do.

Had Ke’rin been capable of lucid thought at that moment, he would have rolled his eyes.

[kysseh]

Oh, but there was nothing like the glory of the wind beneath one’s wings, Hepaticath had decided. She had flown before, but nothing could compare to the enormity of the sensations that she experienced now. The power of the lift beneath her wings was thrilling, and the queen let out a delighted call to the skies, to her suitors. What a chase she would lead them on, and they would follow, her males.

And speaking of males…

Of all the clumsy, stupid, overly arrogant, beastly creatures on the face of Pern, that young bronze that had spent his time cavorting in the air before she had had her fill… oh, he was the worst of them. So enraged was she that his call nearly overshadowed her own that she positively screamed in his direction and then renewed her efforts to out-fly the pathetic beast. Young, he was. This was not necessarily a flaw--she had rather appreciatively noticed her similarly youthful clutchmate and his joyous response to her challenge; smart creature, that Idith--but in the case of this Bronze-Who-Would-Not-Be-Named, it was obvious that the arrogant weyrling had forgotten his place. Pitiful creature. She would show him who was the leader of this weyr, thank you.

Queens were not known for their agility, and at her size, Hepaticath could scarcely be called the most graceful and acrobatic flier in the skies. This was not to say that she was clumsy, though, and she snagged a brief moment to execute an almost flawless barrel roll on a dive, taking the opportunity to get a brief glimpse of her pursuers. Ahhh, Kaaoloth. What was that silly brown doing? Had he gotten bored with herding weyrlings around? The mere thought amused the young queen, who was somewhat flattered that the intelligent (if odd) brown would choose to follow. Never mind that he would never keep up. It was nice to see some males had possession of all their senses. The other fully-grown brown was unfamiliar to her by association, but she knew of him. Hmph. Well, fine, he would do, she supposed.

Her other two pursuers… well, they were marked opposites. Ciceroth was one she knew well, and if she happened to flick her tail just a bit more smugly at the realization that he pursued her intelligently, then it was certainly permissible. Good of him to show up, it was. Her final pursuer, though, was going to get himself injured. Weyrlings. Honestly, had none of them any brains? Young little browns were not meant for the pursuit of great queens, but his boldness was certainly appreciable.

They were all getting far too easy of a chase, though, and the queen blew out a snort through her nose and then beat her wings almost effortlessly for altitude. A quick fake to the right… oh, perhaps a turn back to the left? Yes, she thought that would shake the more impertinent chasers off her tail a bit. She hated their pathetic attempts to snag her tailtip, though that did not stop her from impishly flicking said appendage whenever she felt they needed an extra incentive. Their motions were far from impressive, and she was far from spent.

Her flightpath altered, angling upward to let her gain the altitude advantage she wanted. Yes, she liked going up, getting away. She taunted them again, a low lusty call in her throat. Were they faltering yet? They should have been. See how much more impressive her flying skills were than theirs? It was obvious they would never catch her, and she rolled over in midair just to tempt them. How easy it was to play with them, and how strangely fun it was too! Odd that she had never done this before, but Hepaticath was positively delighting in being in her rightful place in the center of their attention, even if said attention was unwelcome from some quarters and missing from others. Still, they would have plenty of time to learn to worship her properly. She had no intentions of playing easy-to-get.

[glamourie]

There were others there, he knew. Not enough to be worthy of Hepaticath, but others nonetheless. He didn’t look at them. In fact, he did not so much as glance in the direction of the other males, as his wings flared out to propel him upward fast enough to keep up… but with a significantly larger distance between him and Hepaticath than some might have expected. In fact, he was deliberately giving her a wide berth. The other chasers were not worthy of his attention. Notice, yes; he was aware of their presence, like a blight of bronze-and-brown in his vision, but they were not acknowledged as little more than obstacles to be avoided less he collide and make a fool of himself in front of the only dragon on Pern who mattered to him at that moment. The sounds they made, from their answering her challenge to anything else, was blacked out of his mind with brutal efficiency. They weren’t worth paying attention to. She was his golden sun, and she deserved to be the center of all focus. Not one hint of wavering would be allowed. He knew better. Just as he knew better than to fly too close to her so soon. He was no fool and this was no typical queen. Perhaps it was advantage that he was close to Hepaticath; he knew exactly how wily she could be, and he wasn’t about to underestimate her. Not giving her the respect a creature of her power and grace deserved would have sealed his fate. He had no intentions of being flown into a tree, thank you.

The anger of her scream actually made his eyes whirl nervously. Any other time, he would have been extremely upset by that one sound; he’d have gone out of his way to calm her, because that was what he did. But he was intelligent enough to grasp that he wasn’t welcome so close. What had happened? He glanced - and understood. One of her Chasers had done something to displease her. Which one, he couldn’t say, nor did he understand what they had done; he was casually paying very little attention to them, as little as possible. He knew that it was not him that Hepaticath was angry with. That horribly furious sound was not meant for him. That reassurance was all he needed, a mental awareness that he had not insulted his beauty. That sound wasn’t aimed in his direction, after all. Had it been… Ciceroth was not sure what he would have done to redeem himself and he did not envy his competition that plight one bit.

He flipped his wings and angled his body upward after her. Large wings gave him an advantage when it came to descending, but going upward was harder on him; it took more power than with a smaller dragon. He simply had more to pull up, and the wing did not act in his favor. But her wings were larger still than he was. Hepaticath was the largest queen in the Weyr; she was no Aslath, barely his size, and he was very pleased by that fact. His sheer size made him favor larger dragons, and while he would chase large greens from time to time -- golds were his preference. Specifically, the Gold he was Chasing, rather than just any. Hepaticath had been his favorite for a very long time. Ciceroth even remembered exactly when he decided that -- it was after the last time he’d Chased a queen, and she shared her weyrledge with him. She hadn’t kicked him aside. He didn’t want any other queen anymore, beyond a natural desire. Hepaticath was the only dragon he favored above the rest… and she surely knew that, as well.

Of course, half of his desire was bent on how long it had been since he caught any female. Not since Aslath - before Hepaticath was even hatched. But that was not truly in the forefront of his mind, it was a subtle urge to prove himself the best. Because he was the best… and he would not lose again. Not to that lot.

Rapidly moving upward, Ciceroth twisted, wings beating with some effort for ascent. He turned onto his side and flew at an angle, propelling himself further into the air - higher, higher. In all flights, he preferred to Chase from above. He was a natural at vertical drops, his wings made them all the more impressive. It was easier to descend after her than try and keep up, but unlike with his recent chases, she was moving up, too. The only way to gain altitude was to angle himself closer to vertical and Ciceroth curled, pushing himself higher and higher. The process put more space between the two of them - but that was okay; he was expecting Hepaticath to do something tricky, like try and dodge them. Further up would make it easier to judge her movements, to watch her and predict each action. It also would give him a better view of her entire magnificent hide, not simply her tail… even if it was a very lovely tail. She was sneaky, she was. He had not forgotten the tree incident, where she’d deliberately sat on a sapling to prove a point to him. He would not underestimate her.

As Hepaticath rolled over, he spied his chance and launched himself further into the air, and the wind caught beneath his wings, propelling him forward faster. Again he rolled, but rather than onto his side, he twisted into a quick barrel roll that showed off all the magnificent coppery highlights to his pale bronze hide, illuminating him in shades of red. The morning light did wonders for his naturally lustrous hide. He didn’t glow, but he didn’t need to; so pale was he, and with such rich, vibrant highlights that he knew he was a gorgeous creature to behold, and the spinning only emphasized all the high and low lights of his skin. He’d done it when she was watching on purpose, too. Vain? A little; he wanted her to see just how wonderful he could be. Not only was he graceful, but also glorious to look at. Surely she would recognize how gorgeous his hide was? Not as lovely as she was - but compared to every other dragon on Pern? Yes, he thought himself quite spectacular.

But he didn’t answer her call that time. In flights, Ciceroth had a habit of being very quiet. He didn’t bellow, nor did he dare try to talk to her. It was better, he thought, to show what he had to offer than try and convince her with pretty words. And he surely had a great deal to offer - couldn’t she see that? She had eyes; surely she knew just how perfect he was. He could be perfect for her, too. Rolling was just one of his many talents~

[Rei]

Hepaticath’s delighted call spurred Kaaoloth into a slow roll. Just for the sake of celebrating with her. Of course she should be happy. Look at the fine males who flew beside her. She owned the sky today. Everyone realized it. The gold’s scream of rage rankled him deeply. That weyrling bronze was a bit to self-absorbed for is own good. The large brown crooned low in his throat and glared crimson at Jaymith as he passed. Kaaoloth did not dare to attack. A glare would suffice, even that one glare detracted from Hepaticath and he mentally berated himself for it. No more attention would go to his competition. This he promised her with a loud croon.

Hepaticath’s brief attention was enough to make Kaaoloth dip and roll in happiness. She had noticed him! That he was worthy of her notice pushed a flood of adrenaline through his system. He would perform his utmost best for her he would. Not that she would expect anything less of her potential mates of course. Even so he would do his utmost to make sure he was still there celebrating her to the very end. Climbing up with he,r the large brown intentionally stayed at the back of the pack and conserved his energy. Keeping his eyes on key groups of flight muscles he predicted Hepaticath’s movements well enough and so the twists and turns where easily noted and followed.

As the gold’s flight path took an upward turn, Kaaoloth set himself to follow using updrafts and thermals when he could catch them to conserve energy. Stamina he had on par with come of the smaller bronzes but both Ciceroth and Idith would have him beat in that category. Kaaoloth was not a fool, far from it. He would have to play things carefully to stay in Hepaticath’s flight. Both Frosstyth and the other unknown brown would have to be careful as well. Jaymith was given no thought. He had angered Hepaticath and so was not worthy of even the slightest attention. Heapticath’s call caused Kaaoloth to bugle in response. He was still here and she looked oh so magnificent in her roll. He mirrored her roll effortlessly although it undoubtedly looked much better on her.

((Sorry work ran late. Kaao and I both apologize. It would have been up sooner <3))

[ravenmane]

There were others, yes, but the others were not important except when Triniath had to maneuver in the sky and not collide with one of them. For the first time in his young life, the Brown was attempting what many deemed impossible. He was Chasing a Queen like his Bronze brothers that could not resist her call. As a Brown, Triniath was not compelled to Chase Hepaticath let alone another Gold, but he had gone long without Chasing and his body demanded this of him so he soared after the golden jewel that held him by a thousand strings.

Her cry was like a wave of refreshingly water on his heated skin. She was happy, enjoying this moment in the sky and Trin was glad to be witness to it. A Queen's maiden Flight was a beautiful thing to experience and he had what could be considered a front row seat except the male was thoroughly startled when Hepaticath screamed. His head whipped around, trying to figure out what had caused the lovely gold's anger until he realized that she had looked right at the perpetrator. Bronze Jaymith. Triniath glared at the young male and then purposely forgot about him.

Hepaticath demanded his attention and so his attention he must give. He hummed happily and the volume increased for a brief moment as the female rolled across the sky. Wasn't she beautiful? Yes, very very beautiful. There was nothing else in comparison, and although he was just a Brown, small when beside 'Cath, he knew he was good enough, but would she realize that? Triniath grunted quietly when she changed direction suddenly. Sometimes he wondered why females were so tricky especially now.

The Brown followed diligently, angling his body upward to follow Hepaticath during her ascent. So different from Phremath's Run-Flights, this was so different. He could not honestly remember ever Chasing like this, but it was much more natural if not more challenging. Here, his wing muscles strained to carry him instead of his awkward legs that were not adjusted to land travel. No, he was a creature of the sky and not of the ground. Triniath crooned, his eyes fastened on Hepaticath. He would win this beauty for failure was no option.

[archenstone]

Step, two, three, step, two, three, step...

X'vier could perform the dance routine in almost perfect boredom. In fact...he was in desperate need of a challenge. Sweat glistened on muscle as he flowed from stance to stance. The dance pattern was similar to earth's Paso Doble, a dance that the colonists had brought with them and altered as turns went by. Now instead of the classic man and woman... wrangler and bull, the dance was a male only dance representing battle. The girls watching him were giggling at the bold, masculine moves as he danced the part of the victor while his partner for today was the defeated. X'vier was in Blossom Hold.

Mirazeth, however, was carefully trying to think of something other than Hepaticath. He her golden hide gleamed with coming flight and didn't want X'vier to find out. He yawned in feinted boredom.
Little one....are you in position? He asked the mandyr

Pretty...gleaming...gold..... Passion confirmed. The blue mandyr had snuck into the weyr to spy on the beautiful queen dragon. Pretty gold...gold want... Knowing the Blue would go nuts when she rose, Mirazeth contented himself to the rest of this early morning.

FLYFLYFLYFLYGOLDWANTFLY

X'vier barely had time to register his nutty mandyr before Mirazeth had him and was gone.

".......ing bloody dragon!" X'vier's swearing was finally heard as they appeared above the weyr and Mirazeth quickly descended. Now now Mine...you know I'm going to chase...be a good Mine and go to the flight room.

"You and that bloody blue mandyr planned this! I'm going to castrate the both of you!" X'vier's angst was pointless though as he could feel the desire in his dragon. That golden Hepaticath was already in the air. You're late anyways....you won't catch that!

A Queen deserves all the suitors who chase her. Was his reply as he dropped X'vier off and flew away. He pumped his wings hard and rose into the air, announcing his presence with a bugle.

He was somewhat away so opted for altitude over speed. Her gleaming hide was certainly beautiful. She has grown into such a lovely Queen...possibly the most beautiful I've seen.. He thought happily as he flew towards her. He trilled as she rolled, loving the playful, seductive nature of her flight. He was high up so he inverted himself, feeling the strange feel of air filling the wrong side of his wings. He stayed that way for a few seconds...the air rushing by him felt cool at this height even as the sun was warming.

He righted himself, feeling great in exhilaration as he flew closer to the Queen.

~~~

X''vier was forced to go as he was, shirtless and chilled from the abrupt journey through between. That dragon will get me killed...He thought as he felt the goosebumps all over his body as ice droplets of sweat began to melt. In a need to get warm he began running to the flight rooms. As he drew near his mind was pulled into the chase.

[dragon]

Frosstyth continued on in silence, even though he had for the most part been ignored. It didn't matter to him ... after all, he hadn't done anything noticable yet. Just followed. He dipped and swerved, tilting and canting his wings to make the motions. Not having spent a lot of time precticing any kind of aerial agility or stunts, Frosstyth had little to none to offer. All he had was what he was ... thick, strong, young ... and enamored.

As Hepaticath screamed at Jaymith, Frosstyth barely took note. Only that she hadn't screamed it at him. Though on another day the brown might have gloated in it ... that presumptious bronze brother of his, always stealing his limelight! Frosstyth was better than Jaymith, and he knew it ... convincing everyone else to look beyond color was a trick he hadn't figured out yet. He would have adored that Hepaticath had been perceptive enough to see the fraud that that bronze was. But no, he wasn't any of that. Too concentrated was his mind, too focused. No thought of the bronze flashed through his brain at this point in time. Only that while he had not garnered any special attention from her, at least there hadn't been any bad attention either.

Powering upwards as she started her ascent, Frosstyth continued to follow her. Where she would go next, he had no idea. Though closer than some of the other males, he was by no means riding her tail, either. Even so ... those seductive swishes of her tail sure had his interest. She feinted a few times with turns, and he had to scramble a few times to change beat and keep with her. Thankfully, smaller than she was, he could turn better and faster... which made up for a lot of his inexperience in the air.

Not quite floundering, no. He was doing well, in his own mind. He was still with her. He hadn't irritated her. No, he was doing well. She would come to notice him soon. It might take time, but she would notice. Climbing into the sky after her, he paid no thought whatsoever to any of the other dragons. It was all Hepaticath. Nothing else. He was traveling forward, and following her ... nothing would be in his way to crash into.

---

On occassion, Frosstyth's rampant emotional state would prod C'oar into a jog, as he tried to figure out where he was supposed to be, where to go. But invariably when that happened, the tendon in his leg started to spike awful pains, and it would drag him back down out of Frosstyth's euphoric high. And he would slow back to a walk, limping on the bad tendon. This process cycled itself over and over, C'oar never really getting completely swallowed up in the lust for it. Odd as it was, and how inexperienced he was in dealing with it.

Finally, his leg started paining him enough that he hit a middle ground, no longer fluctuating. He could feel every emotion, sense every movement and desire. Yet at the same time, he was not swallowed in it. He could see what was around him, too, and feel the driving pain in his leg. Shards ... this was going to set his healing back a few weeks!!

It was a very odd sensation for him ... such a funny feeling of being two places, two bodies, two minds ... all at the same time. Both of them warring for supremacy of his body. It was disorienting, to say the least, and C'oar desperately hoped that whenever this mess was over with, he hoped it would never happen again.

Complete submission to his dragon had to be better than this agony!! And what was worse, he still had no idea where he was supposed to be going...! To the flight rooms, he knew that much. But where by Faranth's first egg were those?! Wandering lost, that was all C'oar was. Wandering lost, driven to keep moving, to find her. Even if only at a slower pace than riders normally took.

[nightingale]

Angry? Why in the world was she angry with him? Jaymith was completely taken aback by the vicious reaction Hepaticath threw at him, so much so that his wings actually flinched mid-beat. Butbutbut.…hadn’t she seen how gorgeous he was?! How big and strong…and…and oh knew that he was glowing his brightest because he had been sunning himself for the entire morning in preparation for her flight! There had to be something wrong with her if she didn’t understand just how much he deserved her attentions! This gold was insane! She was…bizarre! She was…she was unreasonable…and oh…oh how he wanted her!

Completely undeterred by the veritable mosaic of anger being projected toward him, the young bronze crooned a low and lusty note. So she was playing hard to get then? This new realization enflamed his competitive nature and blocked out what little objectivity he might have been capable of using. Oh, he would make her realize just how much she wanted him! The others –not that he faulted the poor creatures for their shortcomings- could not come close to matching his regal perfection!

Tilting his wings, Jaymith pulled in behind Hepaticath and the rest of her chasers and watched her perform what was he was sure had to be the most magnificent barrel roll the world had ever seen. He did his level best to weave through the air after her, but a creature of his size was not built for high maneuverability. If anything, he looked like a glowing bronze kite getting tugged this way and that in the strong winds. As she began to climb once again, Jaymith pushed his strength into matching her inch for inch. He even mimicked her roll in a very slow and methodical way. The movement looked positively effortless –maybe even lethargic- but it was executed so absurdly slowly that he looked more like a creature suspended underwater than one flying.

Ke’rin himself had already managed to thoroughly bruise his shoulder as he took turn after turn at a graceless dash, desperately searching for his queen. He had been trying to find the flightrooms. Faranth he had been trying, and once he had been sure that he had found them save for the fact that his queen had not been inside. Now he had taken to searching elsewhere. Where could she be? Hiding? Oh, now there was a challenge if ever there had been one! He would find her first! He smirked with gleeful determination, and crashed into another wall.

No no nonono BAD! Bad brownpest stupiddunghead! BLEED! Freckle was practically beside herself as she scrabbled down the hallway as fast as her misshapen frame would carry her. As soon as she was near enough, she leapt at the back of C’oar’s knee, missed and dropped to the ground with an audible 'thunk'. The green mandyr shrieked in rage and tried the maneuver a second time. She fell short, and ended up clinging haphazardly to the bottom of his pant leg. Idiot shardspest BAD! She screeched, flashing a rather gruesome image of a severed leg into the brownider’s mind. Brownpest maul! Maul BAD brownidiotpest!

[Kisha-Ra]

Idith settled into the rhythm of the Flight, taking almost as much joy in being airborne as he did in the sight of the glorious young queen before him. He did so love the rush of air as he sped by, the feeling of having nothing but air around him, those subtle little airstreams that moved around him but weren’t powerful enough to effect him. Idith enjoyed every aspect of flight for itself but he never forgot the purpose behind the journey.

Ahh Hepaticath, she had grown into a fine figure of a queen had she not? Far bigger, stronger, and brighter than their dam ever was. And grace? Oh yes she had that too! Was there some admirable quality, physical or otherwise that she did not possess? Idith certainly couldn’t think of any. How was he to attract her notice? Idith knew he was a fine bronze, was his hide not the perfect shade of honeyed bronze, and marked perfectly? Under that hide he was a powerful dragon too, large and bulky. He would be the perfect match for her, if he could just somehow gain her favour!

The furious scream of the gold made him pause midair, gliding for a few heartbeats and inadvertently losing ground. With a start, he beat his wings a little harder to catch up, it was a fine balance, being close enough to be noticed and not close enough to annoy. Idith didn’t want to attract that kind of ire, never.

Idith crooned softly, letting his queen know how much he appreciated her tricks but he did not follow them. He would not slavishly imitate her every movement, if he did that he would forever be behind. No, far better to think for himself and maybe catch up sometime. When he thought he might have her attention he wrenched his heavy body backwards, twisting up and back over himself in an apparently effortless aerial flip. He hoped Hepaticath had noticed that, because it had cost him time and energy to prove that he had his own agility and grace. Not as great as hers of course, but clearly so much better than that of his rival bronzes and browns

Up, Idith did not enjoy forcing his great bulk upward as such speeds as his queen demanded to any degree, but for her it was worth it. Instinct prompted him to twist his flightpath about a little and take advantage of any available thermal. It took him further from Hepaticath than he really wanted to be at times but something told the bronze it would be worth it in the long run to conserve his energy for later in the chase.