Maelstrom Wing Drills

[Avu]

Plop.
"They're so messed up..."
I've noticed, Mine, that you tend to throw pebbles when you're upset.
Plop.
"Sooo messed up..."
Shall I call for them?
Plop.
"Can you just kill me now and get it over with...?"
I'll call them.

Cyanth, Dohulth, Ruskeath, Jaxith, Hokth, Amorath[NPC], Hatreth[NPC], Calistoth, Aonith, Reysalth, and Tiaeth. Please report to the base of the waterfalls for Maelstrom Wing Drills. The call was spoken directly to the eleven dragons, starting with his second and ending with one of the greens on the wing. Then, huffing, the bronze dragon glanced over at His, who was still throwing pebbles at the river. I have called, he commented quietly. So please, do what you came down here to do, get up off the ground, check my straps again, make sure you've still got the patterns -- come on. Crouching down to make access easier, Corinth watched T'rid intently as the bronzerider pushed himself off the ground and made his way slowly towards the waiting dragon, dropping the handful of dusty pebbles and brushing off his hands as he came.

Tugging the bronze's flight straps carefully, T'rid nodded jerkily, signalling that all was intact, before he sighed, transferring his riding helmet from the ground to the crook of his elbow and squinting at the sky, bobbing up and down for a moment before he went ahead and picked up a stick, kicking at the grass to remove it from his chosen site, and then marked out a V in the dirt, starting to draw in the pattern on the ground. No need to stay on the ground any longer than they had to, and if he got most of the pattern drawn before the Wing (slow people!) showed up, he would have saved that much time. Right? Right. Good. He rode at the head of the wing, obviously, but he was going to ask P'nor to switch spots with him -- so he rode center and behind the rest of the wing -- so he could judge the rest of them. He already knew he could stay in formation, seeing as they had to follow him, and he'd had to lead the Blizzard Wing when S'rei had been sick -- but he wanted to see how well the other Riders managed.

He finished with a sigh, and then nudged a large pebble away with his foot to plop down in a moment in which his dignity had fled, directly in front of the pattern, Corinth moving to allow the other dragons a better landing space, before the bronze, too, flopped down on the ground, clearly not nearly as nervy as his Rider was. I don't see what you're worried about, the bronze commented, emphasizing this; It's practice. A test run. If they don't perform well with each other, you can /change/ the Wings. And then the first set of dragon wings blotted out the sunlight from above...

Wingleader: T'rid of bronze Corinth
Wingsecond: P'nor of bronze Cyanth

K'von of brown Dohulth
G'tor of brown Ruskeath
S'lain of blue Jaxith
Saraina of blue Hokth
F'all of blue Amorath
R'ise of blue Hatreth
K'lir of green Calistoth
Dorava of green Aonith
Lauranna of green Reysalth
Liassa of green Tiaeth

[glamourie]

Corinth's calls us...

"I don't care. He can shove it."

K'lir was in a foul mood. It showed in his appearance, his red hair for once out of his face. It was down to his chin and thus too short to be tied up effectively; he'd settled for convincing Beka to help him braid it all into teeny, tiny braids close to his scalp, so that it was out of his eyes. The process took several hours and he'd decided to keep it up for awhile as a result. In some ways he looked better for it, too. Unfortunately, several loose wisps fell from the braids around his eyes, down the slope of his cheeks -- he looked more feminine than he'd have liked because of it. Just because he preferred men in his furs didn't mean he wanted to look overly like a woman!

The greenrider held the slice of redfruit above his mouth and squeezed. Juice dripped down and onto his tongue. He ran it around his lips, then pushed the piece of fruit into his mouth and rubbed his eye with one knuckle. Beka had Kahrelir. He, by all logic, should've been sleeping. He should have. But he couldn't. Any time K'lir laid down to go to sleep, images of his son flashed through his mind and he woke up and paced around. He was going to go crazy from not sleeping right, but every time he was alone he worried incessantly. It was so ridiculous too! Not like Beka would ever harm their child; she loved him as much as he did, and anyway Showoff was with him, insistant on "Guarding Egg!" as the salamandyr put it. If he didn't trust Beka, he did trust the absolutely insane little red creature that, despite it all, really did love him and got runoff from his emotions. So technically, Kahrelir was safe.

He paced.

This new moody streak is annoying me, Calistoth informed her rider pleasantly before swinging her tail around under his legs. K'lir hit the ground before he knew what happened and she growled low in her throat. Just because the little gold thing is Running soon does not mean you will keep me from the chance to see Jaxith, Hokth, Ruskeath, Dohulth, Cyanth and Corinth. Listed in order of preference ,of course. Of all the things Calistoth forgot, males were not one of them. She wasn't close to flight... not really... but she fully intended to show off as if she was. She was beautiful and she insisted on being admired. Now get dressed or I will call Thoth and tell him to make His come up here and dress you the way you do your egg. Showoff's word. Calistoth understood that the baby was a baby -- but she liked referring to him as an egg. Hurry. We will not make them wait because you're in a bad mood. You're not sleeping anyway. I will tell Checkoth who gave His that egg if you refuse.

"Dirty rotten snitch, who's side are you on?" K'lir snarled and stormed away from Calistoth, stumbling to his feet in the process. The green rumbled her amusement, her gaze following K'lir as he yanked on his riding gear in a rush. It only took him a few moments; he was getting faster and faster at getting dressed, primarily from experience. When he was ready, he returned to Calistoth's side, gave her a swift kick in the side of her leg, and then climbed up onto her back. "I don't know why you even care, you don't like any of those males!"

It isn't about what I like. It's about the fact that they should like me, the dragon replied before promptly throwing herself off of the weyrledge. Her wings spread and carried her up and out of the canyon. Around Calistoth circled, before coming to the base of the waterfall. Her circling was quick, easy, elegant; she was showing off how fast she twisted and turned.

Backwinging, the large female swept down and settled on the ground several paces from Corinth. Her wings flared, showing off their size and balancing out any unevenness from the abrupt landing. Then she promptly flopped down - for there was no other way to describe the easy way with which she laid, as if she owned the place and had no problem allowing her mere minions to admire her beauty. Her gaze fell on Corinth and she crooned pleasantly to him - or as pleasant as Calistoth got. She wasn't a nice dragon, after all, and she made no secret of the fact that her affection had to be earned through trails of pain and punishment. Only the best were worthy of her attention. He was Weyrleader; that made him the best. For now.

K'lir climbed off of Calistoth and stood next to her for a moment before turning to look at T'rid. His bad mood showed, and he was determined to spread it -- and T'rid made the ideal target. "Greetings, bronzerider; why do you insist on wearing colors that do not remotely flatter you? At least your riding gear fits well." He let his gaze sweep over T'rid. Truthfully, he didn't find him all that appealing. Too scraggly and young; T'rid reminded K'lir of a child in a lot of ways, which was funny considering that he was the younger of the pair. However, whether he really was interested or not wasn't the matter up for debate. He took great delight in torturing the bronzerider and he hadn't wanted to stay on his wing. Nothing personal -- he just wanted to be on a wing with less greens if he could, because Calistoth was prone to picking fights every chance she got. Especially when she was close to flight. "The view is quite nice. I'm sure the others will agree."

[Rowana]

It is time for drills, Tor, Ruskeath reminded his rider. I know! I know! G'tor was struggling to get on the last of his flight leathers. He didn't usually wear the full gear if he could help it, unless he was going between. The boots were particularily uncomfortable as he probably hadn't warn them in weeks. Maybe you should wear clothes more often? Ruskeath suggested. I wear clothes! G'tor was horrified by the implication that he didn't. Just..not so many. He yank on the last boot and climbed up to the brown's back.

Are you ready? Ruskeath's eyes swirled with amusement. I'm ready, you tease, G'tor shot back easily. Let's not keep T'rid waiting. Ruskeath took to the air, his looping flight path taking him to the assigned spot by the waterfall. It was one of the pair's favorite places, in fact. Ruskeath choice to land on bank not far from Corinth. Good morning, Corinth, Calistoth, he greeted easily, as G'tor slid off his back. "Morning," G'tor smiled easily at the other two riders, surprised that he was still one of the first ones here.

[ravenmane]

StupidbigbrowndumdumBAH. Squee muttered darkly from his perch on P'nor's bed, glowering at the Brown fire-lizard sitting happily on P'nor's desk while the Bronzerider oiled his hide. "I said that's enough, Squee. You already know he is going to give you the reaction you want." Squidjim fluted an agreement and the sidled up to Squee and crooned playfully. The Blue blatantly ignored her and continued to glare at the newest member of the family. Squid and Athol had been bad enough with the Blue fighting with Squee and the Green constantly flirting with him, but then the Blue got himself killed. Instead of leaving it at that, His had to be stupid and get another monster. Now, Squee was stuck with a stupid Brown that didn't do anything, but Squidjim had warmed up to him very easily.

Can you tear yourself away from the new friend long enough to go to Drills with me, Mine? Sure. I'm sure I can do that. Not like I have anything else to do. Besides avoid our wonderful Wingleader? Cyanth chuckled and crouched down when his rider appeared on the weyrledge. As he quickly checked over the riding straps, P'nor wondered why he was the Bronzerider T'rid decided he wanted to torture. Maybe because he likes you? T'rid? Liking Someone? I would sooner jump a candidate then believe that, Cy. P'nor spluttered and whacked the Bronze on his shoulder.

After rechecking all the straps, P'nor swiftly mounted and provided Cyanth with the picture of where the Maelstrom Wing would be meeting. When they did appeared above, P'nor found himself muttering curses. He had forgotten that K'lir and Green Calistoth were on their Wing, and personally, the Bronzerider really didn't like the pair. Calistoth was downright annoying, and her rider was pretty much the same. Be nice, Mine. When she Rises, you better not Chase. I like Llath. She played with me. Faranth save me... P'nor attempted to put a half-smile on his face, but it wasn't whole-hearted and it showed. "P'nor and Cyanth reporting for duty, Wingleader." SIlence will not help you. I still like Llath more. Someone save him...

[kysseh]

"Don't make me sing...."

An odd threat, to be sure, but it got the brown dragon's attention. Dohulth found K'von's voice to be horribly offensive to his sense of hearing, and the brown frequently put up a teasing fuss when the brownrider decided to warble a note or two. It was a running joke between dragon and mindmate, and K'von used it to maximum effect, especially for times like now when the brown was scooting all around his couch and refusing to stand still for the straps. It was a game, like most of the interactions between them, but it was a poorly timed one now, with wing drills starting soon.

"C'mon, you. Settle down, and let's get a move on. We're on the weyrleader's wing. Aren't you excited?" the brownrider chuckled, and Dohulth blew out a massive snort of what was undeniably amusement. Both halves of the pair thought it was fascinating that they were older than the weyrleader and his dragon. Older... and more experienced. Still, if he was a halfway decent wingleader, they should survive, right? K'von tried to think positively about these kinds of things. Dohulth finally standing still allowed the brownrider to hook up his straps, and then he jogged back to retrieve his helmet, taking time to stroke Dania and tell her to stay and wait for him. The green was sleepy for some reason, so she had no problem curling up on his pillow and getting comfortable. So adorable. Well, she would not be moving anytime soon.

Corinth called. Let us go, Mine. the brown commented, flicking his tail back and forth and taking on the role of the responsible one now. They traded off. Neither could remain serious for very long without a real need to. K'von laughed aloud at his dragon's change of heart and adjusted the helmet on his head before mounting with the ease of long Turns of practice, mischievously granting Dohulth's neck a light kick when the brown started dancing on the weyrledge. Settle down and get a move on, wherryhead. As you wish, Fat One.

That should have alerted the brownrider to the fact that Dohulth was up to something, but distracted as he was with thoughts of his favorite greenrider, K'von was appropriately startled when Dohulth threw himself off his weyrledge and started a lazy sort of glide toward the gathering spot for wing drills. In short order, the brown was backwinging to settle near the other dragons present, though Dohulth was forced to leave a good buffer of space for his oversized wings. He minded little. Flopping down right next to another dragon during wing drills was not something he generally enjoyed. Greetings to you and Yours, Corinth. he said politely before lowering his neck to allow K'von to dismount. He rumbled softly at the other three present, though his gaze strayed a little longer on the green, mostly out of instinct than real interest.

K'von hopped down and nodded at the others, acknowledging also the bron. "K'von and Dohulth, here and ready to do some flyin'." Behind him, Dohulth snorted at his rider's idiocy. His rider's antics never failed to entertain him.

((Sucks, sorry, oh well. x.x))

[ryanne]

Wing Drills,[/i] Tiaeth commented simply. She was obviously content with the day's activity. She liked wing drills. She liked being in the sky and flying. The fact that there are others up there with her only made it better. Liassa grimaced; she was used to being left alone. Wing drills were simply a duty. Even though she was trying to socialize more, it didn't mean that she was going to enjoy being thrown together with an entire wing. She loved to fly with her dragon, but it was a more solitary event for her.

Cheer up love. It'll be fun. We get to fly,[/i] Tiaeth chimed in, nuzzling her rider softly. She wanted Hers to be in a good mood. She didn't want her bonded to be upset. It only marred the beauty of being in the sky. Lia sighed, laying her head on her dragon's for a moment before getting up from her position of lying on the ledge with her small green. "Let's get the straps on you and go," she murmured, almost to herself. Tiaeth always put her in a good mood, even when she didn't want to be. It was the beauty of their bond.

A few moments later, the straps were all secured and they were ready to go. Leaping from the ledge, they glided down and soared to join the wing. Their touchdown was smooth and Lia dismounted with an ease that was acquired from her time with her dragon. "Good morning," she greeted the riders around her. She was glad she was in T'rid's wing. He had always been nice to her. Her marred reputation was no longer a topic of conversation, but she had a feeling, however unbased, that T'rid wouldn't hold anything against her even if the topic did come up again. She couldn't even imagine that any of the other wingleaders would do the same. That could be her exercizing her newfound cynicism though.[/size]

[Tashe]

/Rainmine. Corinth calls us to Wing Drills./

Looking up from her painting, the Bluerider huffed in annoyance. The wing drills always seemed to happen at the worst possible moments for her, in this case, she was in the middle of adding color to her sketch of her two Firelizards. No one knew the utter hell she had gone through to convince them to stay still and in the same position, and now she'd have to go through the same process all over again after the drills. You aren't very chipper about them. /Yes. I like showing everyone how good we are, but I despise having to take commands from anyone./ Well I know that so you didn't have to explain it to me. Anyways it was a rhetorical statement.

Putting down her paint pallet and brush before untying the knot behind her back, the Saraina lifted her cloth apron from around her neck. She had to resist the urge to wad it up and toss it onto the floor, choosing instead to hang it up on the nail assigned to it. Scrubbing the paint off of her hands with a rag as she carefully collected her flying gear, putting them on when she deemed her hands clean enough to do so. /Faster Mine./ Whats with the snippy attitude. /You are slow. I bet the entire wing is there before us./ Hold your wings Hokth I'm almost done.

Unhooking the large amount of leather that made up her Blue's straps, Sara stepped over her sunning puppy and out onto her shared landing ledge. She didn’t have to worry about any of her pets while she was away. Her Flitters were smart enough to know that they weren’t to get into any trouble, and Soleil was on a makeshift lead, he wasn’t going anywhere soon. Waiting for Hokth to flatten out so she could sling the first strap of his harness over his neck, the Bluerider started to connect all the loops and clips. Harnessing a Dragon was oddly like tacking a Runner… maybe she'd start using the word 'tacking' instead of whatever she used now. /Faster./ "I can’t go any faster ya' big Blue annoyance." She was already going as fast as practice allowed her. Latching the last two free straps together, Saraina quickly checked all of the connections, tightening the loose ones and loosening the really tight ones. In reality, she knew that she hadn’t taken too long, but Hokth’s pestering made it feel like a lot longer. Adjusting her goggles, the Bluerider moved around to the other side, arriving in the process of buttoning up her jacket.

Using the male’s leg to pull herself into the harness, Saraina was able to strap herself in before Hokth decided to leap into the air. Faranath you could have warned me! I almost lost my knots. /I’m sorry mine love./ Its fine... where are we meeting the others? /At the base of the waterfall./ Oh... we’re close then. Twisting to look back at Hokth’s wings, the young woman absent mindedly ruffled her short hair, remembering when they first worked out how best to angle them to regain the speed they lost because of his large wings. It was an interesting experience to watch a Dragon’s wings flap from so close, it was a wonder she hadn't thought to look before now. Turning around as they began to descend, Sara leaned in closer to her Dragon’s neck, bending her arms in preparation for touchdown.

Landing was a little bouncy, Hokth having needed to adjust for the amount of room they were allowed, but otherwise it was smooth and embarrassment free. Here I go... Unstrapping herself and maneuvering to the ground, Saraina tapped the toe of her boot on the ground before pushing her goggles up into her hair line. She had worked with some of these riders before, but there were some new faces she’d have to get used to flying with. Quietly making her way over to where the Weyrleader was, the Bluerider stuffed her hands into the pockets of her trousers, a feat upon itself because of her riding leathers. "Saraina of Blue Hokth reporting."

Folding his wings along his back ridge as he settled down, Hokth tapped his tail on the ground, letting his eyes wonder among the Dragons assembled and present. He wouldn’t bother Corinth with a greetings, he didn’t feel like talking to the Bronze, even to say a simple hello. Focusing his attention on one of the Greens, Hokth reached out to touch her mind. /Hello Calistoth./

[hseru]

Wing drills, Mine, at the base of the falls. Corinth's requests it.

S'lain glanced over at the open end of their weyr, curious if Jaxith thought that the specificity of Corinth asking made it any more important than any other Wingleader's dragon asking the same. The blue remained silent on the thought though, launching up from the river's edge below to quickly land on their weyrledge, his eyes whirling amiably in hues of green and pale blue. Better hurry, the others are gathering quickly. "Working on it Jaxi, I'll have you strapped up in just a moment."

The bluerider had no idea why he'd been placed in the Weyrleader's wing. It seemed odd, but perhaps there was no specific reason for it, his name was just first on the list. Whatever the reason, he really had no harsh feelings for the several years younger T'rid, and he regarded the upcoming drills as a necessity that he'd perform just like any other duty he had as a rider. He knew Jaxith had the skill and agility to follow just about any formation, so even if he were worried about 'impressing' the Weyrleader, well, they could at least hold their own.

Snagging his helmet, S'lain adjusted his riding leathers, and moved to strap everything to Jaxith, well used to the saddling process by now. He re-checked that all the seams were secure, and he'd gone through mending a few places a sevenday or so ago, so everything was in working order. Preflight check complete, he vaulted up to his seat, settling in and strapping himself down with the complex mess of leather. "Alright Jaxi, ready. Let's go see what this is all about." With that, the blue launched gently off the ledge, gliding downwards towards the river. A few wingbeats kept them going at a decent clip, and the blue pair were soon settling down a polite distance from those already gathered to spare them a mouth full of kicked-up dust. Jaxith closed the short distance between himself and the others before S'lain vaulted lightly down to the ground, landing in a shallow crouch before he stepped forward to greet the others with a small, easy smile.

"S'lain and Jaxith here, sir, ready to work." He addressed T'rid, apparently un-phased by the difference in age between himself and the 'sir' he spoke to. He was the Weyrleader, after all. Some respect was warranted.

[dragon]

Time to go to drills. Aonith mentioned, to Dorava, who was sitting with her feet in the river. Normally, this would have been exciting news. Indeed... Aonith was looking forward to getting to actually participate in a drill with a wing, rather than sit on the gruond and stare up at it from there. Being ground bound was really annoying and stressful for the green who so loved to fly.

But all that was dimmed by one thing: her rider. Dorava was in a pickle of a mood. She wasn't even pretending to be cheerful, which was pretty bad. Dorava had a heck of a temper, but she always pretended she didn't have one. Not this time ... she was pissed, and didn't want anything to do with the rest of the Weyr at all.

Much less drills.

But there was nothing for it. Grounching without ever using any real words, Dorava hauled herself to her feet, kicked violently at a stone, and stalked over toward her dragon. The stone skipped off the water once, and then clanged loudly off another rock in the riverbed, sending it zinging erratically in a whole new direction.

Having wanted to get away from the Weyr entirely, Dorava had taken Aonith between to a place several lengths upriver. As such, she was already in riding gear, and Aonith was already wearing her harness.

Pulling her boots on, Dorava glowered darkly at the sky for a moment, and then crawled up Aonith's side to take her place on top. She really didn't want to go back to the Weyr. "Alright." She snapped, finally, snapping in.

Aonith heaved a sigh, and then leapt into the air. Taking a few wing beats to acquire altitude, she blinked between back to the Weyr, over a new point on the river. Aonith dropped quickly to land, in an avaliable open spot. There, Dorava slid off again, and stalked over to where the other riders were, never uttering a single word as she glared at the world in general. Coming to a stop, she crossed her arms over her chest and basically dared anyone to even try speaking to her. She wanted nothing to do with the lot of fools. And that included everyone who lived at Selenitas, not just the riders.

[Requiem]

At least try to be a little practical. Is it so much to ask? Reysalth was, without a doubt, more than just a little annoyed. Hers was being difficult yet again. Worse, they were going to be late if this went on much longer. The green was attempting to wriggle into her own straps to expedite the process - a feat that was, needless to say, beyond even so flexible and cunning a creature as Reysalth - when the woman bounced out in something that would do only because her previous choice of garments was so ludicrously unworkable.

"Better now?" the woman questioned, a smirk taking her lips. The skirt was altogether too short, but at least she was wearing thin leggings beneath and the fabric was split to make it easier to ride. Her shirt was hardly any better. Of course, the first time she'd come out she'd fully intended to go to wingdrills topless, just to see if T'rid would have the balls to say anything about it. Reysalth had, fortunately, intercepted that particular bout of insanity, but the lavender-hued blouse could barely contain the greenrider, the neckline scooping so low as to make it clear that she wasn't wearing any undergarments on her upper body. And no, Lauranna clearly didn't intend to fasten her riding jacket, either. Good, no. Better, yes. Now help me with these, or we'll never arrive at all, and your little game will be pointless. The greenrider pouted but obeyed, cinching up her beauty with expert swiftness, for all her earlier devilry.

Fast as Laurie's hands were the delay still rendered them last to arrive at drills, something that aggravated Reysalth no end and put Laurie in an even better mood. Now she could make an entrance! And what an entrance it was, too. She leapt from Reysalth's back before the green was even fully settled on the ground, long braid trailing behind her and showering flowers she'd threaded into it in her wake. Laurie hit the ground running and bounced all the way across the expanse of ground (Reysalth was too late to land particularly near Corinth without jostling some of the others) to fling herself against T'rid, thankfully knowing enough not to let the Weyrleader take her full weight or risk toppling him.

Grinning and still hanging on the bronzerider, she winked at several of the males ranged around. How she loved her men. "Don't tell me you're all here for me? How sweet of you!" Reysalth made a noise that sounded suspiciously like distress and immediately slunk behind the nearest body (which just happened to be Jaxith) so she wouldn't have to claim her rider.

[Avu]

T'rid had just scrambled to his feet when Calistoth backwinged to land next to Corinth. The bronzerider groaned internally, rolling his eyes to himself. Of all of the Wingriders that had to be prompt -- his least favorite one? Baaah, not fair. If K'lir kept his mouth shut, he might be able to ignore the temptation to remove the greenrider immediately from his wing, but -- but of course that wouldn't happen. T'rid blinked, clearly taken aback by the seemingly random comment. His...riding gear? It was plain brown wherhide: He'd never seen the use of dying it. And -- gah, bad. (And Corinth wondered why he didn't want K'lir on his wing?) Corinth, who had crooned a pleasant greeting to Calistoth, paused to glance over, and amusement whirled in his eyes. Don't. So he didn't. The bronzerider bit his lip and stared at the sky, praying for someone else to come. And quickly.

His prayers were answered in the form of Ruskeath and G'tor -- he wouldn't have recognized the brownpair, except that he'd been considering them as his Seconds -- and the bronzerider nodded silently to the brownrider, crossing his arms across his torso as Corinth responded with a quiet, Fair skies, Ruskeath. The bronze was still lying comfortably on the ground: He would not actually be required to move until T'ridHis was finished lecturing and saw no reason to get up. Then came their Seconds; Cyanth and P'nor. T'rid didn't know the bronzepair very well, but they were experienced, and from what the records showed, had been Wingleaders at one point in time. A very small point in time. Another brief nod as he mentally checked off the arrivals' names. Corinth, meanwhile, greeted his Second with much more enthusiasm than His had, dipping his head in a signal of respect. Greetings, Cyanth.

Followed by another brownpair that T'rid actually didn't recognize until the man introduced himself and his dragon, in a very...over-enthusiastic way. The bronzerider cleared his throat, nodding again to acknowledge K'von, and again, Corinth crooned a greeting: Likewise, Dohulth. The bronze left it at that, simply glancing back up at the sky expectantly. It was Tiaeth and Hers that landed next (they were one of the pairs that had gotten into T'rid's wing simply because of favoritism) -- and Corinth dipped his head again in a silent greeting to the green. T'rid glanced over at her and managed a wry smile before the next pairs landed; Hokth and Saraina, followed by Jaxith and S'lain. He didn't know either pair well, and though Corinth greeted them both -- Hello, Hokth, Jaxith -- he didn't acknowledge their Riders past a glance and a nod as they spoke their names to acknowledge their precense. Aonith and Dorava followed, and he couldn't help raising an eyebrow at the clearly foul temper the greenrider was in, but he didn't bother telling her off for it. He was in a foul mood, himself.

And then, last of all -- Laurie and Reysalth, the former of whom positively leapt from her dragon's back, and -- T'rid couldn't possibly describe it using any other word -- bounced towards them, and what was she wearing? Corinth gave a rumble of amusement as the greenrider flung herself against His, T'rid instinctively 'catching' her to avoid either of them falling and moving one foot backwards to brace himself, fully expecting her to release him. Since doing so hadn't seemed to register upon Laurie, the bronzerider reached up to tug at her arms. "You do know that we're going between today, don't you?" he asked, slightly amused despite himself. (He should probably have been despairing that his wing was going to /fail/. Any sane person probably would have.)

After disentangling himself from Laurie, he sighed, and raised his voice enough so that the few that were still a distance away could hear. "Come over here, please..." As soon as they gathered (around Corinth, since T'rid refused to sit down and be looked down on, and he didn't want to have to stand, and thus leaned against the dragon's foreleg), T'rid offered the wing pattern record to P'nor. "Pass this around," he instructed, "and once everyone's gotten a look at it, we'll get into the air." It was a simple enough formation, with the greens and blues switching in and out, and only one of the blues -- Hatreth -- lasting the entire Fall (he was hoping said blue was big enough to last). "If there are any immediate questions, comments, concerns, etc., let me know," he added as an afterthought. "Okay..."



"First, I think I'm correct in saying that Liassa's the only newly graduated Weyrling? So everyone here's probably familiar with how a wing works." Corinth moved slightly, his foreleg shifting under T'rid's back, and the bronzerider tapped the dragon's claw with his boot in an absentminded reproof. "Any personal problems that may affect flight, tell me. Or, if you're uncomfortable speaking about it, ask your dragon to tell Corinth. It's necessary," he added emphatically, one eyebrow quirking slightly. (Cue stating that a wing was like a big happy family, something T'rid would probably gag on having to say.) Ask them if any of Theirs is willing to teach the wing how to fight, Corinth inserted, and T'rid paused to blink up at the dragon. "...what?" Ask them, Corinth repeated imperturbably, If any of Theirs is willing to teach the wing how to fight.

"...second, does anyone here have any fighting experience that they're willing to teach? or am I going to have to suck up to someone?" Corinth's eyes whirled slightly faster at the thought, and a huff of distinct amusement left his throat. Sucking up was going a bit far: He'd just bribe them. "Third. I don't know how long this drill's going to last. It depends on how quickly we get through everything. We'll be starting with getting into formation, then turning as a full wing, then going between as a wing. The rotations will be practiced today. First rotation -- K'lir, S'lain, Lauranna, and Saraina -- I want you to go as long as you expect you'd be able to in a full Threadfall, and then warn the other parts of your rotation before you switch. That's basically all that's planned for this drill; it can be changed if something comes up or there's any particular concern. Next drill we'll be practicing for emergencies -- if a dragon gets Threaded, or something.

"And I think that's it. Any questions before we fly?"

I've one. Why, Wingleadermine, is it that you're perfectly capable of being mildly polite, and never are?

[dragon]

Dorava took the two steps neccessary to move over toward Corinth. She spared the bronze a slight nod of greeting; she rather liked the even tempered bronze, and thought he did good for T'rid's weird ways. Not that she minded T'rid either.

That ... thing ... with the no-fronted shirt ... was going to be sorry by the time they were in the air. Her boobs were gonne get frostbitten, and then have to be chopped off. Then what would she have to flaunt and bounce around at males with? Airhead.

She listened to the speech, and then looked at the parchment as it was passed around, sending it on after only a glance. For now, she was agreeable with it. Aonith was actually a green with endurance enough to last most of a fall, but after being grounded for six months? Aonith needed time to tone her wings back up. Aonith agreed with that assessment, in the back of her mind, still trying to smooth over the rough emotions banging around in hers' head.

And then T'rid asked for someone knowing how to fight. GAH. What a time to ask for that. RIght now? Dorava would like nothing better than to fight someone, kill them. Something. That emotion was squashed pretty quickly by her dragon. He didn't say kill Aonith admonished.

Maybe it would take some of the energy out of the vehemence she was feeling. Aonith nudged her for it.

Soo ... Dorava nodded at T'rid. "I've fought. Granted, I ride green, and have never led a wing, but I've been trained. And I've fought." She mentioned, trying her level best to keep the ice out of her tone. She didn't need to be thrown out of the weyr - or the wing. So she was trying very hard to put a cap on her emotions. It was hard, but with Aonith's help, she was managing. If barely.

[kysseh]

K'von had to perk up just slightly at a familiar sight, though she was rather underdressed for the occasion. As much as the brownrider enjoyed attention of the female sort, Lauranna was just a tad too flamboyant for his tastes. Amusing and attractive, yes. K'von was a whiny, possessive sort of men when it came right down to it, though, and the women who showed off their assets just weren't to his tastes. That... and he found himself on a relatively short emotional leash at the moment, though that was a situation he hardly minded. Kalierre was all the woman he needed... and could safely handle without losing his obviously-limited grasp on sanity.

Still, it was quite amusing to see their wingleader so assaulted by the rather inappropriately-dressed greenrider. That wouldn't feel well while flying, he was sure. Between would be a tad chilly. The wingleader--also a youthful and inexperienced sort of weyrleader, K'von noted with mild uneasiness--seemed to be skilled at dealing with Lauranna's energetics, though, and they were soon on to business. Leaving Dohulth to relax in his spot, K'von moved forward to join the circle near Corinth. His dark eyes flicked curiously up toward the bronze and then once around the circle of riders, looking for other familiar faces and seeing none that rang any significant bells. Hmm. Shame. Always nice to see familiar faces.

While the brownrider was a patient creature, he did wish that their wingleader could have gotten to the relevant bits a tad quicker. He had been on wings for Turns and knew the technicalities of it, though, obviously, the recently-graduated weyrling probably had no clue. His gaze drifted again, landing on the mentioned young woman and wondering if she was frightened yet. Selenitas wings were nothing in comparison to the north, and K'von often felt a bit annoyed by that fact. Sure, Selenitas was not actively fighting at the moment, but the somewhat lax attitude toward life, living, and drills grated at him. Or... well, the Selenitas riders did seem to do an ordinate amount of talk in comparison to action. Most Selenitas riders. He liked a few.

T'rid's query startled K'von, and the brownrider had to fight to not pale a few shades at that thought. Fighting. Violence. Death. K'von, for all that he had been raised in the north, was simply not of proper northern breeding. Weyrbred or not, he did not possess the Benden-pride that had been so apparent in many of his compatriots. He had never been given much attention there, either, likely because Dohulth was ill-suited to fighting, given his... oddities. Still, he and Dohulth knew how to do it. They hated it, but they had some experience. Apparently, one of the greenriders--a rather angry-looking woman that K'von wished was on the opposite side of the weyr from him, as he disliked and feared angry women--knew how to fight as well. Strange. She looked familiar. Did he know her?

"Dohulth and I were trained to fight," he spoke up when the greenrider was finished, trying not to make eye contact for fear that she irrationally pounce at him and start clawing. Women could be scary that way. "We weren't suited to it, but we did learn some basic moves, defensive and offensive. One of the greenriders on another wing is a trained fighter. She's just coming off maternity leave, but she and Tanith are some of the best I know." The brownrider shrugged helplessly. "Still, Dohulth and I can teach some of the basics... or, you know, give you the general idea."

[glamourie]

Ruskeath's greeting earned a flirtatious flip of Calistoth's tail, as if in acknowledgment; however, the green did not speak to him. It wasn't actually common for her to talk to other creatures if she didn't have something to gain from it, by her own perception. She wasn't friendly by any stretch of the imagination... and Corinth had the majority of her attention. That she actually noticed the brown at all was, for Calistoth, a high compliment. She did not look around to notice any others... until another green landed. Then her head swiveled and she watched Tiaeth with a burning intensity that was so far from friendly as to startle. K'lir put one hand on the green's flank to keep her in line (his frequent responsibility, unfortunately) and tilted his head up toward her. Given a choice, Calistoth would fight with any other female she could find; she detested other greens, with the lone exception being Phremath (who she termed 'not a threat' and thus not deserving of her ire). Tiaeth earned a particularly contemptuous look, but her rider's touch was enough to make the green still. The steady lashing of her tail was enough indication of her annoyance.

It was hard for K'lir to keep Calistoth in line, though. Liassa was not high on his list of people to socialize with. He had a problem with her based solely around the fact that she'd been pregnant as a weyrling -- something no one could miss at the time, even though he hadn't even known who she was. He recognized her well enough. He kept his behavior in check; just because he picked on T'rid did not mean he intended for drills to be disrupted. He was Weyrbred; he had a sense of duty... even if he didn't show it that well.

Hokth's words caught Calistoth's attention immediately and she swiveled her head around to him. A blue. A handsome blue. She crooned to him, her eyes whirling pleasantly. Nothing like a pretty, pretty blue to keep her in good spirits (they were, after all, her favorites; Calistoth did so love her blues). Greetings, Hokth. He had her full attention, effectively distracting her from her rage at Tiaeth for...well, existing. Are you and Yours ready for drills? Talent, Hokth had -- with that one greeting, he'd taken away all the malice the green dragon felt, and she did not even notice the arrivals of the rest of the wing. Fortunately, too, for Lauranna would have sent her into an instant rage.

Because Lauranna had K'lir's full attention. So much so that he missed any response T'rid may have offered him, his amber eyes going rather wide to watch the greenrider as she walked. He had a giant crush on her, he was not ashamed to admit; he'd liked Laurie for Turns, and ... and her state of dress, or close to lack thereof, was highly distracting. His head cocked to the side and he forced his eyes away from her form (or in particular, her so low-cut shirt) and then back again... then back to the ground, as if he couldn't quite figure out what he intended to do. The eighteen-turn-old fidgeted slightly. His fingers twisted against the bottom of his riding coat. He sneaked another glance, then a furitive look at everyone else. So many frowns. What idiots. Didn't they know to appreciate a good view? He decided right then and there that he was by far the most intelligent member of the wing. By far.

Wait. What? K'lir's attention was suddenly stolen as he looked at the skin being passed around. He was flying with Reysalth? "You do know, Weyrleader, that putting Calistoth next to other greens can be detrimental?" The dragon in question turned her head and snorted. "I can keep her in line, but you might want to consider that after today. I don't know how well she'll do. S'rei spoiled her putting her with only males -- and she doesn't play well with others." It was a surprisingly diplomatic response. He was willing to try. (Calistoth wasn't, but...) However, the fighting comment had him cocking his head to the side. He knew nothing about fighting, so... he didn't answer.

[hseru]

Only a couple of riders landed after him, and of the two, S'lain wasn't sure which one he wanted to avoid the most, Dorava or Lauranna. The former looked, to put it simply, pissed at the world, and the latter had thrown herself at T'rid without a second's thought, though the younger man didn't seem too annoyed with it. The woman was obviously aware of how she looked as she sent winks around. The whole thing gave the bluerider a peculiar mix of feelings. He was a little disgusted, but the view was advantageous.

Jaxith gave Reysalth a steady look as the green stepped behind him, unable to help sending her a gentle stream of soothing thoughts tinged with the ever-present colors of his mind.

S'lain stepped up when T'rid called then to attention, listening carefuly. He looked at the pattern when the parchment reached him, noting that he was to be switched out mid-fall. He frowned a bit. Jaxi could last a whole fall, why was he being switched? Well, they'd just show the blue's endurance during the first rotation practice. As far as he knew, there was nothing that could deter from their practice, or actual falls... he got off his scheduled night shift in the infirmary with enough time to catch a few hours of sleep, and an actual fall would increase adrenaline enough to secure wakefulness for a long while after all was said and done. All in all, nothing to note.

He was only mildly surprised when their Wingleader next asked for those with fighting experience. The dragonhealer had none, and he remained silent, though his eyes followed the sound of those who volunteered themselves. It would be different learning how to fight dragon to dragon, that was for sure. S'lain felt a bit uneasy about the whole thing, but mostly he felt an underlying anger at those who had forced them to not only prepare to protect everyone from thread, but also to protect themselves from other dragons who should only be interested in charring the menace from the skies alongside their kin.