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Post by irbre on Jul 5, 2008 0:42:28 GMT -5
Night was the only respite from the intense heat of the day, the velvet darkness pulling away the dry warmth and replacing it with something much more bearable. It was the middle of the night and everything was still, save the various nocturnal creatures that dared to dwell so close to the Weyr. Tonight, though, it was exceptionally quiet and the night hung oppressive and black, only the faint glimmer of stars showing from behind the cloud cover. The moons, full and bright, hung low in the sky, the smaller half-hidden from sight. Despite the inactivity in the Weyr, one creature in particular stirred.
Whuffling softly to herself, Neisk rose, apparently uncomfortable with her position, ambling towards the door. Neirin hardly shifted or responded at all, for the stirrings of her golden wher were hardly odd. As it was, Neisk rarely stayed with her all night, even while she was awake. The Queen would often amble off to some distant room to cuddle with it's occupants. She had made herself quite popular with the Weyrbrats, her warm bulk keeping them safe and content during the night. Neirin allowed these escapades to continue without much thought, working on whatever it was she had to do while Neisk was away. She always returned as dawn broke the horizon anyway.
Neirin stiffened suddenly. Something felt...strange. She straightened in her seat, unable to place a finger on whatever it was that was wrong. Something stirred within her, an unfamiliar motion that set her heart pounding in a decidedly strange manner. Alarm suddenly blossomed inside her chest and she spun, eyes searching frantically. Where had Neisk gone, and more importantly, what was going on? A vague recollection nagged at her, something another member of the Weyr had told her about mating. Could this be...? Neirin shook her head incredulously, fingers curling into fists in an attempt to steady herself, a battle she was swiftly losing. No no no. Neisk could not be...Running.
Already the gold wher was on the move, silently exiting the Weyr without a glance back. Moonlight glistened on the Weyr, frosting the edges in pale light and setting Neisk's hide ablaze. The dull gold gleamed with an inner radiance as the Queen moved across the Weyr grounds, nostrils flaring as she caught the scent of the herdbeasts, slumbering soundly. Not for long. It took her a moment to cross into the sleeping beasts' pen and only a moment longer to dispatch one, a silent killer whose jaws bathed in blood. The other animals woke in fright, screaming and panicking as they searched for an exit while Neisk meticulously dismembered her kill, blood running from her jaws in thick rivulets.
Halfway through her kill Neisk turned, screaming a challenge to the Weyr, he keening voice rising high. This was her night and she would make it a night for only herself and the male whers. She would Run and they would Chase! She would only allow the strongest, most able, and quickest to win. She would make it a victory to be had, a challenge to all who participate. Calling again, Neisk returned vigorously to her kill, tearing at it with renewed fury, throat rippling as she swallowed the blood. It was time for the males to Chase.
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Post by randi on Jul 5, 2008 1:05:52 GMT -5
Since his meeting with L'ar, Oraru had been fairly content with his share in the world. The greenrider had been interesting in the extreme, and he hoped to see the older lad again when the nights were young and he was freshly awake, but he had still been content. Even grumpy Orask could not bring him down. The night felt good, and, though he had been awake for a little while, he was content to lay in his cot, a fat Breeze curled up beside him, humming quietly, content with the lad's happiness.
Orask being grumpy was not irregular, but his attentiveness to Neisk had become of particular interest. Lately, as she had left, he would watch her from Oraru's door, occasionally warbling softly in something that could be considered a sigh. As he had grown, the bronze had grown into his large frame, the rich, dark coloring making him easily attractive, for a wher. Now, the light from above caught him just right, and his hide almost glittered. He was being watched by His, which made his movements outside suddenly of notice.
Oraru was up almost immediatly. The wher did not, usually, go anywhere without Oraru. They may not be the perfect match, but they were inseperable, for the most part. "Orask," he called, reluctant to break the silence of the Weyr. The bronze did not even glance his way, pausing only slightly in his step, as though he might have misjudged what tonight meant.
Then came the call. Oraru, at first, had no idea what was going on until Orask's pace picked up, the wher loping faster towards the source. He was conserving energy, and, then, it hit him like a rock. Neisk's Run. Oh, no. In triumph, something surged over their bond, a single image, bronze Oraru holding a golden female figure.
Orask had no time to continue worrying about His, as the sudden spike in unhappiness from the other side definately meant Oraru was capable of worrying about himself. He spied her between the legs of fleeing herdbeasts, one of which he took for himself, standing on the carcass, announcing himself with a deep, low warble before draining his own kill swiftly as she did hers, his eyes whriling deep purple. He would need energy to keep up with the beautiful Neisk, the grounded star.
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Post by reqqy on Jul 8, 2008 14:56:00 GMT -5
A slender figure stood silhouetted against the moon. Whinny had no true purpose here, other than as an advisor to get the young wherhandlers started. Apparently there was a shortage of older handlers and their duties were going mostly undone - or unrealized. She was there as an invisible advisor, though, and would be heading back to Hyphen tomorrow night. Whisk growled low in his throat. He hated the open air. For over thirty turns, now, they'd spent most of their nights in the mines, and he did not like the openness. Whinny couldn't say she was particularly fond of it, either. Still, better than doing nothing in the temporary quarters they'd been given. Whisk had been restless since they came, and that restlessness was transfering to the older woman.
Her pale, pale eyes turned toward Hyphen and home. Then snapped over to Whisk, whose growl had changed in timbre. She knew that growl. Even before Neisk's howl awakened the weyr, Whisk was off, bounding down the hill in long strides. Whinny suppressed a tight, ironic grin. They were here for two nights, and he managed to find a wher to chase. No, she realized. A gold wher. Resisting the urge to smack herself in the face, the woman began her casual stroll downward, toward the wherhandlers' quarters. Whisk had been known to run a gold or two upon occasion, and Whinny prefered - though she'd long since become capable of controlling the urge - to join in with the brown should he succeed. Made everything simpler.
(Short. ^^; Didn't care to develop it too much, though, considering they're NPC. Hope this will help, Irby.)
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Post by ryanne on Jul 9, 2008 22:48:16 GMT -5
Mariaki sat at the desk, attempting to pen a letter to her brother. It was too difficult to attempt to tell him what was going on, how her life was. She just didn’t have the words. It would mean so much more to her just to hug him, see him, show him. She wished they would come to live with her. It was better at the weyr and they would learn that if they just spent a sevenday here with her. But they refused. Sure, they loved her, but Lighttower had been their refuge and it was too difficult for them to leave it now.
She understood, but it was hard to go day to day without having a calm refuge of her family to return home to. Even with her nocturnal ways, they were always there for her, even if it just meant staying up an extra candlemark to say hello to her before she went to bed. It meant a lot to her and it was difficult to have that detachment. She just felt so…scattered without them.
Suddenly something took hold of her. Confused, she looked around for Marisk. He usually stayed by her side or let her know if he’d found a playmate. It was unlike him to just wonder off. The feeling strengthened. It was suddenly very warm and her body was very sensitive. It was odd. She didn’t like it. She felt like curling up in a corner and attempting to sleep the feeling away, hiding from all of Pern. But then she felt a boldness that she wasn’t used to. Marisk had never Chased before. He was too young the last time his clutchmother had Run and they’d left just before her next Run. He’d always just had friends, played with other whers and never, never had they been near when one of them Ran. This was not okay.
Marisk didn’t care, quite frankly, what his bonded was thinking. All he knew was that the beautiful gold was getting ready to Run. He would Chase and he would Chase well. He’d left his bonded in their apartment, knowing she could figure it out. He’d couldn’t not give Chase, who would resist her call? He made his way to Neisk, watching her as she ate her beast. He didn’t need one. He’d fed yesterday and had more than enough food left in his belly to Chase his queen properly. Odd for him, he chirruped softly, letting her know that he was here and ready to give Chase.
Mariaki’s frown slowly faded into a small smirk as she left her apartment. She knew now that she had to find Neirin just as Marisk had found Neisk. They would Chase and they would try their best to Catch their queen. It was right, it was natural. Her feelings drifted from fear to eagerness, her wher’s thoughts driving her own.
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Post by irbre on Jul 9, 2008 23:34:41 GMT -5
Neisk looked up from her bloody feast, the blood on her glimmering jaws black in the darkness. She shifted slightly, draining the rest of the beast in a handful of greedy gulps before rising to her full height. Eyes glittering in the moonlight, she swiveled to survey those watching her, lips twitching back for a moment in distaste. There were so few males here to Chase her. Not nearly enough. Still, they were large and strong, creatures worthy of her, were they not? She examined them more closely, her gaze first falling on bronze Orask. He had been the first to arrive and, of the whers present, the one she knew best. He was an undeniably handsome creature, large and dark, a fitting tribute to her own antiqued coloring. There were others, of course, and Neisk flashed a bright eye in the direction of Whisk, inspecting the brown briefly. He was smaller than the others, of course, but looked efficient enough. She finally swiveled her sights to the last wher, a wiry bronze, whose build was undeniably gracile.Yes, they were all worthy of her, she decided, turning quickly away.
There was only a moment's hesitation and Neisk was off, her slow gait quickening to a swift canter, rolling effortlessly off of her dual toes. She didn't even bother to cast a glance over her shoulder, knowing full well that the males would follow wherever she led. This was her Run, after all, and in this, controlled all. Multifaceted violet eyes reflecting the moonlight, a blur of silver along her gold form, she leapt easily over a fallen tree, quickly taking the Run away from the Weyr. She would not be hindered by the strict confines of such a construct. She needed open space and freedom, an endless expanse to test the skills of her suitors. Already she was driving them towards the river, though her sights were fixed on a far more precarious crossing than she would normally dare to attempt. No doubt one of them could guess, though, for they were quickly running uphill, graceful bounds, fueled by a recent draught of blood, carrying Neisk swiftly from rock to rock.
Even as Neisk twisted her neck to call back to the males, Neirin flinched, some distant part of her recognizing Neisk's sudden movement. The Run-induced-lust hit her again, the blood boiling in her veins, the pace of her heart increasing drastically. Every touch, every sensation, felt agonizingly desirable. And there was nothing to block it out. Neirin pushed herself unsteadily forward, slowly realizing that she should not even attempt to leave her apartment, for the other handlers of those Chasing Neisk would no doubt come to her. And nor did she wish to have Neisk's Run end while she was somewhere...public. Even the thought made her shiver, repelling the lust, if only for a moment. It returned stronger than ever, Neirin twisting away from some unseen force.
She could catch glimpses, now, a strange muddle of images sent via the intense lust. Blurs of bronze and brown mixed with strange humanoid shapes, partly distorted by her wher's view. Still, it was enough. Neirin forced herself backwards, sensitized fingers brushing against the wall of her quarters only moments later. While part of her wanted to face the effects of the lust and the possible suitors on her own terms, more of Neirin wanted to merely escape the alien feelings and urges. No, almost all of her wanted to escape, to run away, to flee, but that wasn't about to happen. Neirin steeled herself, eyes narrowing to glittering slits, fingers wrapping into a fist. Yes, she would wait, for better or for worse. This would all be Neisk's decision, after all.
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Post by ryanne on Jul 10, 2008 9:51:33 GMT -5
Mirask kept his whirling eyes on his queen as she finished her blooding then examined her followers. He showed no emotion but calm lust through his eyes, standing still, waiting for her to move. He knew that he was a worthy competitor. His tail swished back and forth, the only sign that he was ready to spring into movement. He would Chase and he would Chase well. But first he had to wait, wait for her to be ready.
When she began to run, it took him all of one second to take his position behind her, trotting off before gaining a rhythm, racing after her. He stayed a bit to her right, instinctively trying to remain where she could easily see him. This was his first Chase, but his instincts had long since taken over. There was nothing awkward in the way he followed her, nothing out of place as he rolled behind her, his tail swishing and bobbing as he followed her over the rough terrain. The tree wasn't even an obstacle for him, he just took it in stride, leaping over it without a second thought. His eyes were fixed on his gold. Nothing could get in his way.
His mind didn't bother to try and figure out where they were going. All that ran through it was thoughts of the gold bounding in front of him. It was like a chant, over and over again. Catch her, catch her, catch her, beautiful, catch her. He knew what he needed to do and he continued after her, easily making his way uphill. He could run after her forever. The parts of the Run that would difficult for him would be the ones with tricky navigation. Anything straightforward or quick and lithe, he could do as well as any brown, bronze, or gold. As long as he had sure footing, he would do just fine.
In their apartments, however, Mariaki was having a hard time doing just fine. She was drifting in and out of her right mind, still confused because she couldn't find Neirin and so lustful that it was hard to think straight to get to the gold wherhandler. Taking a deep breath, she tried to concentrate, making her way out of the apartment and done the line of doors until something pulled at her. A triumphant gleam in her eyes, she turned into that room, catching sight of her female pushed against the wall. She smiled confidently at the woman, careful not to come any closer. Her mind had now given over completely to her wher and she knew better than to get close. No, she had to stay away, stay away until her queen Chose her.
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Post by randi on Jul 10, 2008 22:21:41 GMT -5
As he was being examined, Orask watched humbly, freezing as though she might take movement as an insult. He moved only for her, dear beautiful Neisk. His eyes bore, for once, no sight of a darkened gaze, a bright purple overtaking the color. He didn't bother to look at his competition. They didn't matter here, only she. She observed the others and Orask's muscles began to hum in his body, not out of impatience, but out of growing need. He needed to Chase her. At her turn, he fought to hold still. He would chase only when she Ran.
The moment she took off, it felt like a spring loosed, the bronze male taking off after her, feeling her pace beat through his body as he sped after her. He danced to her beat, leaping over the log with ease, the shadows flitting over him, no doubt making it hard to see him. She knew he was there, his deep color glinting any moment the light above hit him. He kept close to her, though leaving her enough room where he wasn't crowding her. Orask was, however, the slightest bit behind, though he was to Neisk's left instead, of his fellow bronze. The other was built to be faster than he, more wiry than his bulky form. It was the first thing he noticed when he dared to glance from Neisk's form for the slightest moment. As she leapt from rock to rock, he followed suit. She would cross the troublesome river, and so would he. He would follow her wherever she deemed they go. He would Chase the beautiful gold until they hit the edge of the world.
Before the running had even started, Oraru had felt something in his mind, growing, spreading, delicious tendrils wrapping around him. He felt himself being drawn into a mind far stronger than his own, felt flashes of him walking smoothly to Neirin's apartment before a flash of running, chasing the midnight sun. The open door was an invitation, and he almost walked into another suitor for the girl pressed against the wall. He stood to the side, feeling a deep urge to embrace, entwine with the girl before her, but part of him knew better than to move before she had Chosen. Was she afraid? Fighting off Orask's mind that furiously attempted to meld with his was hard, but he managed to croon gently: "Everything will be fine." The next surge from Orask swallowed his thoughts, his heart beating the rhythm of far away feet.
Orask crooned gentle encouragement to Neisk as His did elsewhere, slipping slightly on a rock, but continuing despite the two second delay, quickly playing catch up for her.
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Post by reqqy on Jul 10, 2008 23:59:24 GMT -5
Whisk stood as her eyes traversed him, waiting, every muscle tense, wanting to spring ahead and pursue his gold beauty. Oh, these others were larger, and displayed their muscles, but he was the more experienced. The swiftest. He knew his own measure, and he felt that it would more than suffice in this Run. So beautiful a gold. Had ever so gorgeous a wher graced Hyphen? If she had, he could not remember it.
Claws dug into the soft earth, a growling yip offered to his beauty, Whisk straining forward as if he were but held back from the chase by an invisible chain. His body - dark even under the gleam of starlight - absorbed the shadows, making of him a phantom creature. He waited a few extra seconds, allowing the bronze whers to nip in close to Neisk. His Neisk. Huffing softly, the male's hinds gathered power, propelling him forward in one great surge of energy as he fully joined the chase. Gleaming hide drew him on, winkling through the obstructions. Whisk diverted from trailing her directly. He leapt the opposite end of the log, skittering into a tight turn and dashing after her. One stride, two, and he hit his rhythm, baying his presence to the gold - in response to her call - should she forget him. He would never abandon this chase! Not when so glorious a creature led it. Whisk drew up, a few yards from her flank, following her path with ease and less likely to be fooled by the clever gold.
She had just started. There was no danger of the bronzes catching her so early. None whatsoever.
Whinny strode with purpose. Tall, slender woman, she was a rowan among saplings, her back unbent and her form almost never deviating from a straight line. She had little in the way of curves. In her fifty-two turns, she'd never had cause to regret it. Some did not age gracefully. Some sagged, stiffened, shrunk. This wherhandler simply grew straighter with the passing turns. Her short-cropped hair was a gleaming silver, her eyes the palest of blues, and though she was pale as most wherhandlers were, it was a pallor that suited her.
Whinny strode with purpose. She came upon the wherhandlers' quarters at a sedate pace. Whisk had been blooded some thirty turns before, and she was well-accustomed with separating one reality from the other, at least throughout the earliest part of the Run. The glimmering of golden and bronze hides barely distracted her in the slightest. She entered well after either of the others, with the same confident demeanor as her Whisk displayed. Cool, cool gaze as it fell on competitors, on the gorgeous one. Her golden. Soft, soft growl left her throat, almost a purr. Ramrod posture straightened. Upon each face, superimposed she could see the form of the wher. It was a curiosity that had only begun to happen the last eight turns or so, and she never tired of it. So young, these wherhandlers. Whinny almost felt a pang of remorse for them, but it vanished.
Whisk's feet, his devotion, bore her away from such thoughts and into the details of the chase.
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Post by irbre on Jul 14, 2008 21:46:45 GMT -5
The males continued to follow, just as Neisk had believed they would. Inwardly she crowed, congratulating herself on these fine catches. They were worthy males, all of them, but one had to be better. One had to be stronger, quicker, smarter, and more caring than the others. She did not worry a great amount about appearance. She was beautiful enough for whoever she chose, after all. Still, a bronze was considered better than a brown, wasn't he? She cast a quick glance over her shoulder, noting that they were all doing well. That was, perhaps, mere speculation on some parts. Bronzes glittered, though, and they were a compliment to her own shimmering hide.
She twisted her gaze back forward, eyes scanning the dark, multiple facets flashing, reflecting the moon. The stone ahead was a mere hindrance, slight and insignificant. Crying to the males, Neisk's leapt clear of the obstacle, her body a flash of liquid gold and silver in the moonlight. She landed easily, spinning in place, kicking up a cloud of debris and dust as she turned and lanced off to the side, her path now running parallel to the river, though not for long. Moonlight flashed off of her hide, dappled and bright, turning the gleam of gilded fire to palest silver. This was her time, and no one else's.
The trees suddenly opened on either side, their enclosing walls breaking apart to open the Run onto flat ground. Neisk cast another glance over her shoulder, calling encouragement to the males. The flash of the bronze males and the faint flicker of her phantom brown. All powerful, strong males, capable and worthy. But still, one was more worthy. They had to be worthy of her after all, not merely worthy of some pathetic green or a lesser wher Queen. They had to be worthy of her, Neisk, a beauty among beauties. She would not accept any weakling who might stumble in the future. Kicking up a spray of sand, Neisk dashed forward, laying on extra speed, her body rippling and coiling, a sculpture cast of living metal. This Run was not over, not even close.
Neirin stiffened as people began to enter her quarters, her whole body tensing. The first was a woman, who luckily kept her distance, waiting patiently for Neisk to Choose. Neirin had no idea how long the Run would last, though hopefully not too long, this being her Queen's maiden Run. Oraru entered suddenly, taking Neirin by surprise. She could see the lust in his eyes, in his features, plain and clear. He was waiting, just as the other woman was, just as Neirin herself was. Her eyes flashed as he murmured a reassurance, a spasm reaction jerking her away from him, another attempting to pull herself closer. The twitch somehow kept her in place and she watched between lowered lids as a third handler entered the room, this one practically exuding an air of experience. She stood taller than the others, straight and strong, a veteran in this war of lust. Neirin pressed herself back closer to the wall, her lower spine pressed as flat as possible even as she bent forward from her waist, the Run-aided feelings urging her closer.
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Post by ryanne on Jul 15, 2008 10:33:53 GMT -5
Marisk followed after her, silent in his chase. She was beautiful, his beautiful Neisk. He would have her and none other could. He wasn't going to knock out the competition or be violent, but he would show her that he was the best. His elegant lope took the obstacles in stride, weaving where required and jumping over branches here and there. He was a capable Chaser and he would show her that. It may be his first Chase, but he didn't even think of that as he focused on the gleaming wher in front of him. All that mattered to him was following her and winning her. He would use all of his tricks, his grace, his strength to do so. She would Run and he would Follow. That's how he knew it worked.
He leapt over the stone, mimicking her actions. Hoping to confuse the other males, he spun as well, adding to the large mass of sand and dust before dashing out of it, catching sight of her new path and following, losing very little distance. Her path was straight and sure and he followed her without a second thought. Low in his throat, a croon began without his knowledge. He crooned to his gold softly before the note faded. Marisk wasn't even aware that he'd made such a noise. He was too intent on following his Neisk. He had to show her that he was worthy. He was the only one that was worthy.
With her second spray of sand, Marisk dashed right through it, catching on to her faster speed. He could run and he could run quickly. His tail swinging back and forth, he ran, ran for all he was worth. His grace was maintained and his footing was sure. There was no way that he was stumbling. He was a bronze, the best bronze, and he would prove that he was worthy above all others. She would see that and know that he was the only choice for her. Confident in his first Run, he continued to run, run fast and keeping up with his queen. He would not lose her from his sight.
Mariaki didn't notice as the other competitors made their way in. Her eyes were focused intently on Neirin, a look of longing and lust filling them. She knew who her queen was and she wanted to claim her, be Chosen for the honor. When her wher crooned, she hummed as well, deep in her throat. She wanted this beautiful queen for her own, Marisk's mind clouding her own to any other thought. She had to win. They needed to run. Any hesitancy was long gone.
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Post by reqqy on Jul 15, 2008 20:28:41 GMT -5
Guiding star, lead me.
Flash of gold ahead, brilliant beneath the leaf-dappled moon. His pillars pounded the earth in primal rhythm, faster than hers, a driving harmony. He paced her. Fell back a little so as not to be caught off-guard, but not much. No, not much at all.
Golden star, guide me.
The shower of dust sprung up around him, and Whisk huffed to clear his nostrils of the debris, instinctively turning to follow the melodious song of her strides. Water sloshed against his legs unexpectedly, but he stuck with it, causing a spray to be caught up and hoping it might bother the bronzes near him, on Neisk's heels. Whisk veered inland to drier land, loving how the moisture made him nearly silent. Shadow chased star, and shadow intended to prove itself worthy to be at her back when the dust settled.
Shining star, dance.
Then they were breaking into the open. He dropped back for a few precious seconds to call out to her, his beauty. Let Neisk not forget her shadow! And then the phantom was off, a zephyr storming through the tall grasses. They rustled at his passage. Sung of his speed, his strength, just as they sung of hers ahead of him. Bronze, too, gleamed ahead, but he ignored that truth. He was faster. Legs stricking the ground in swift tattoo, he had just caught up to the other two suitors when a second cloud of dust erupted, and he leapt. Darkness burst through dirt, streamed over the back of one of the bronzes and landed going full-speed, his stocky frame stretching out. Oh, how glorious the air pounding through his lungs as he pursued his star! Oh, how entrancing her scent, the scintillating hide that called him as a syren might! He was helpless to fight it. Didn't wish to. For her, he could run until his heart burst. Yipping encouragement to his Neisk, he drew near her, though he veered aside so as not to crowd. It was her decision. If only she might choose him when the time came...
Brilliant Neisk, run!
And Whisk ran.
Whinny's hands curled lightly at her sides, her heart pounding in her breast. She saw the dual picture with something like awe, saw the Neisk-in-Neirin, the Neirin-in-Neisk. The bronzes were of no concern. Whinny/Whisk might lose to them, but not for lack of trying. No, the only one of importance was the golden star. Cooing in her throat, she trembled, a tree swaying in a light breeze, her soft blues alight with yearning. With desire. With worship. If Neisk-in-Neirin would but come to her, she'd show the ascendant what it meant to be Run by a veteran. What it meant to be loved and worshiped by a phantom.
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Post by randi on Jul 16, 2008 23:50:33 GMT -5
The momentary slip did not delay him, catching back up to his former place. It was easy, too easy to push his body's limit for her. Yet, he could feel that his body did have a limit that lay ahead, a hurdle that he would have to continue pushing against stubbornly if he wanted her. There was not a shred of doubt anywhere in his mind of that. Orask wanted her as much as his lungs wanted air, sought her like his heart sought a tempo that thundered along with his pace.
The stone ahead proved to be his next obstacle for her, which he cleared without much difficulty. Sand filled his vision, but he caught a glimpse of her darting to the side, skidding slightly in the sand as he changed directions after her. Thrashing his head, he cleared his eyes, remaining her worshipper not far behind. He would press on. The other males might try and take him down, but they were nothing, there was only Neisk to Orask, only her golden gleam this night.
The trees were open, giving her all the room she deserved, room to make him prove himself. Orask’s met her glance, determined even more by her encouragement, feeling more energy pour into him from it. He could Chase forever if she would only ask him to. The next spray of sand was met with an increase in speed. Orask darted after her, keeping his room, but making sure she could see him. He was the best, he was the only one worthy of her, not of her suitors but on all Pern. She must, surely, know that. She was the Queen of Whers, she had to know who was best for her, the best sire, the most worthy, and who would accept less? Since the beginning, he had been only for her, had given her the respect she deserved, had only wanted the best for her. She must know that, must have seen it, must see it now!
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Post by irbre on Jul 21, 2008 0:23:43 GMT -5
Her suitors will still following, diligent in their pursuit. They were handsome and strong, worthy of most females, and perhaps most Queens. But Neisk was not just any Queen, she was the Queen. She was the most glorious, the most radiant, the most beautiful. Those males behind her should be honored to merely have the chance to Chase her. Her bronze knights and her brown phantom, they were still following. Still, she hadn't even begun, and the hard part was yet to come. It was nearly time to test their strength and bravery, as well as their perseverance. It was time to fly.
Neisk lurched forward suddenly, pace increasing until her feet hardly even seemed to brush the sand, jaws cracked open, eyes wide in exhilaration. Her short wings unfolded, the sturdy stumps spreading wide, silken membrane fluttering as the golden form continued her mad race towards the waterfall, her whole body becoming an arrow of molten metal, flashing gold overlaid with liquid silver. It was time for a challenge, finally time for a challenge. The edge of the falls was coming ever closer, but that was not Neisk's intent. No, her's was very close, and rested in a decidedly dangerous place.
Every muscle in her body seemed to coil, rippling beneath antiqued golden hide that glowed with its own light. Then, with an explosive force, she leapt, sand exploding in a plume behind her. For a moment she hung suspended over the river before her short wings spread as wide as possible, the sturdy appendages blooming with air. It was a relatively short glide to the first rock that dotted the top of the falls and Neisk landed easily, bounding back into the air almost immediately, heading for the next rock. A longer distance, each and every time. Five stones in all, each larger than the next, the smooth surface wet with water, glistening and slippery.
Four leaps were down now and Neisk tensed for the last one, her wings ready, practically buzzing with intensity. She touched down on the last rock and paused for a brief moment, though she dared not look to see if her pursuers were still there. One more leap. Her body coiled and unleashed, golden form unfolding into the moonlit sky, wings incapable of true flight stretching wide. Neisk held the steady, watching with wide, flashing eyes as her projected path brought her closer and closer to the far shore. Too short, it seemed, until she gave her wings a mighty flap and inched ever-so-slightly higher into the sky. It was enough to carry her to the far shore, forefeet touching down in moist sand even as he hind legs impacted with the water, creating a glimmering spray behind her. She bounded forward, though only for a few steps before she half-turned, slowing down to a quick trot to wait a few moments longer for the males. She crowed to them, urging them forward, towards her. Those who could make it, at least.
She was truly lost to the lust now, truly. Neirin eyes flicked between each of the handlers in turn, part of her seeing them as they were, the other part, the part connected by blood to Neisk, seeing whers. Not truly whers, but the shade of their hide, the subtle overlaying of their build on their handlers. It was so...strange. Neirin ignored it, gaze flickering hungrily between each in turn now. She knew that time was almost up, for her Queen was tiring, however much she sought to ignore that fact. There would be a choice soon. One of these. One of these would be hers, just as one of the whers would be Neisk's. It would all work out in the end.
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Post by ryanne on Jul 21, 2008 10:53:15 GMT -5
When Neisk's speed increased, Marisk quickened his own, now running at the top of his speed, exertion pounding through his muscles and through his feet to the ground. In his mind, it was barely enough. He was barely keeping up. But in reality, he was following her, not missing a beat as they ran. He was far from gaining on her, but he wasn't struggling nearly as much as he thought that he was. He ignored the falls ahead of them, focusing still on his queen. If she chose to run them through the falls, then he would follow and risk whatever injury might happen. His entire trust rested in his queen, his gold. Somehow, he knew that she would never deliberately lead them into harm's way. That just wasn't how golds were.
Marisk noticed that her wings were unfolded, poised and ready. Hesitantly, he unfurled his own, not really confident in his ability to fly. He tried it once or twice and gotten a bit off the ground, but the act of leaving the ground scared him. He wanted to keep his feet firmly planted where he knew he was able to keep himself steady and level. But with the lust whirling through his eyes, he knew that he would fly if that was what Neisk called from them. He would do it clumsily and with much difficulty, but he would try and fly if it would please her. Because that was his goal; to please his queen and nothing could deter him from it including his own fears.
As she made her first jump, Marisk forced himself to keep running. If he stopped, he knew that he would never be able to leap to the first rock. Lust-crazed, he followed her over the edge, spreading his wings wide and pushing off with his powerful legs. He barely made it to the first rock, clipping the edge and giving himself enough room to take another tiny step before he pushed off again, the air surrounding them filling his wings so that they pulled him to the next rock shakily. He was two behind her now and he was running, running for her and flying for her, only her.
The next rock was easier. He had more room to land, but he hesitated less, bounding from the wider rock flapping his wings experimentally as the breeze took him to the next rock. He finally gained a rhythm, making it through her little obstacle course and to the other side. At the last rock, he almost faltered, seeing the distance to the next shore, but he refused to stop now. With a powerful leap, he thrust himself off the last slippery rock and glided towards the other side, pumping his wings when he got closer. He landed gently on the other shore, pride filling his mind for a moment before the golden beauty in front of him took over.
Crooning to her, he began to leisurely run after her, proud to be the first male across.
Mariaki's eyes were directed only towards the golden wher in front of her. The glaze that was poured over them made it very clear that she wasn't seeing Neirin; she was seeing Neirisk. The fear flashed through her eyes briefly when Marisk came to the rocks, but the lust quickly took back over. She made a low sound of longing in the back of her throat, eager to win this race, be chosen by her wher. But she kept against her wall, knowing better than to reach out to her prize yet. She would win, they had to win.
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Post by reqqy on Jul 21, 2008 11:40:25 GMT -5
He sped after her, falling into easy rhythm. Not so young anymore, this Whisk, and his endurance was not the match of the bronzes, of the gold, but he'd been part of many Runs. He knew. He saw her determination, his glowing, leading star - and he saw that she was beginning to tire. This was good. It meant that he could push himself, for if she was not, then he would be forced to drop back, because he did not have so very much left to give. The brown's lungs burned just in the attempt to keep his strides even, to keep his speed at a pace with the others. See how he worked for her! For his glorious midnight sun! Hunkering down lower to the earth, he elongated his body, making of his strides something larger, more powerful. It would tax him. He might, in the end, overestimate his ability to maintain the pace long enough, but if he didn't try? That would be worse.
Water thundered in his hearing ahead. She was making for the falls? His pace faltered for a moment, before he put on speed, attempting to overcome the shortcomings of his own frame. Likely she could make it. Her wings flared, casting faintly glimmering patterns across the water and the leaves. Likely she could make it, but why risk renting that perfect hide? A concerned croon left his throat. They knew she was perfect, the best. She had no need to leap from a cliff to prove that. Nevertheless, Whisk was confident that, where Neisk went, he could follow. Confident that he would follow. Who was he to question her choice? Of those here, he'd tested the air most often. Still, as her glowing form disappeared over the edge, he felt his hearts catch. Whisk was not so quick to plunge after her, watching both Neisk and one of the bronzes descend the stones.
His wings remained at his side as he followed, sweeping out in a snap when he surged forward to the next leap. The extra power of the unfurling buoyed him with ease. His wings would tuck into his sides at the descent of each arc and sweep out again, making up for his lesser power, his smaller size giving him more room to build momentum. Whisk descended the rocks with confidence, and, in the end, he nearly had to pull up to avoid striking the bronze who had gone first, which would have been quite disastrous.
His voice lifted in haunting strain, praising her jumps, her flight, even as he edged around his competitor. Such a wily, courageous beauty, his gold. Shadow wher settled into a lope that kept her always dangling out of his reach, a will-o-the-wisp dancing before the males. The descent and the slower pace had allowed him to catch his breath a little, though his muscles ached. No, no pain was too great. She was not the first gold he'd chased, though she was the most glorious. At this moment, he wanted her more than any wher in his thirty turns of life. His midnight sun.
Her arms had settled over a mostly flat chest, small smile of approval gracing her lips. Clever gold. Clever, clever gold. Whisk's lust increased past that of any Run she'd participated in for turns; he was desperate for her. It was almost enough to completely overwhelm Whinny's mind. But no, she'd seen and been through enough that she could still dissociate. Even as she noted all the handlers submitting to their beasts, she watched with mild amusement. So young, these people. So very young.
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