Ista Weyr - Sable Sands Patio
This is the patio for the Sable Sands Nightclub and Bar, what would on a regular weyr be the dragon's ledge. The ledge's surface here, however, has been filled and leveled, leaving a smooth floor upon which are set a number of small, round wooden tables and high-back chairs, all painted a glossy black. The tables are arranged to take advantage of the view, looking out over the broad plateau to the ocean beyond, a perfect frame for sunsets on a clear evening.
Small speakers set deep into the corners of the ledge's overhang relay an assortment of quiet tunes from inside, either recordings or live entertainment as the day offers. The entrance to the weyr proper has been walled off, and a wide set of double doors have been built into the wall. Mounted above the doors is a electric-lit gas sign, the blue letters spelling out the club's name: Sable Sands.
Dragons> Ankhepith waits quietly in the feeding pens, her hide showing only the palest of signs of a glow that usually accompanies such things. Every now and then she glances up at the sky, wings flicking out and retracting in irritation.
"To be completely honest I'd rather have a tooth extracted without Fellis." Leslyn replies with a shrug, sinking down a little more in her chair and drawing her legs up. "I don't care what she says." She takes a sip of her drink and then winces, "Times like this I wish I hadn't given up drinking."
L'ton shakes his head at her. "Lil'bit, ya're being silly. Yer dad would be sad, if'n he heard ya talking like this." And L'ton settles back in his own chair, pausing to listen to Dhonzayth, shaking his head before he looks back at the younger woman. "Though, maybe one wouldn't hurt. Canni get ya something… stronger?"
Dragons> Omasuth wings low into the feeding grounds, much like a schoolboy with his hand in the cookie jar. Growling softly he surreptitiously looks left, then right, to make sure there's no lifemate there to groan about embarassing flirtation, then pads a safe but friendly distance from Ankhepith and starts the discussion with a cheerful and winsome croon.
Aoriya is gulping a nearly gone beer, obviously in a hurry to finish up and get going. She's got some kind of wherry dish with hot peppers in it and crisply toasted, thinly sliced potatoes of some kind.
Dragons> Dhonzayth seems drawn to the feeding grounds, the pale Istan bronze gliding low to the ground as he backwings, staying a respectful distance from the pale glow, simply there to revel in the glory of the goddess, and participate in the eventual hunt.
Leslyn snorts, "Yeah, right. He's too busy avoiding my mother at the moment." Something it's been quite noticeable that Leslyn has been doing as well. "Honestly who comes to visit for a whole sevenday? That's not a visit, that's practically transferring back in." Eyeing her juice she shrugs once more. "I shouldn't. They'd kick me out of the League for a start."
"They don't need to know. Ah mean, ya dun even need to 'know' officially, if'n Ah go get it fer ya." L'ton starts to sit up, ready to fulfil the offer. "Besides, with yer mom here, Ah doubt anyone would blame ya. If'n mine was here, Ah dun think Ah'd /stop/ drinking." He offers. Though, that means he's a bad person, trying to convince her to drink.
Dragons> Ankhepith shuffles round a little to eye the men who've come to worship at her side. head tilts to one side as each is assessed and all bar one brown found acceptable. That poor brown is snapped and and sent running quite quickly, though he returns to watch from a safe distance into the bowl.
Aoriya listens to the talk, spearing hot peppers on her fork, eating them, grimacing, and then gulping either beer or wherry or both to get the spice out of her mouth. "yooooow!" She wails. "I didn't think it would be that hot…."
Dragons> Omasuth bows politely to the ethereal goddess before him, head tilting as he takes in the lovely lady. His eyes have just the faintest flicker of violet in them. And he's taking a good look at the competition, growling at the rejected brown.
Dragons> Dhonzayth crouches low to the ground, as if offering a bow to the golden avatar, pale wings extended for balance. Only after he is found acceptable does he straighten, though he remains ready. The trumpets may start at any moment, and then the hunt will be off. It would not pay to be unprepared.
Leona enters with a frown on her face, and an eye fixed steadily on the bar. All this fuss about drinking or not drinking, she has no dilemma to face. She'll drink, though she probably shouldn't. "A bottle of Tanner's Friend, if you please." she orders, leaning back against the counter to survey the crowd, with a bored expression on her face.
Leslyn turns to peer at Aoriya when she lets out the yell, then calls after L'ton, "Ton? Make it water? And get some for." She waves hand in Aoriya's direction, turning it into a wave halfway through so as to not seem too insulting. Leona is noted with a nod and a little half-smile.
L'ton shakes his head at Leslyn, tsking some. "Live a bit, lil'bit." He sighs, before getting a pair of waters, the first one settled by the visiting brownrider with a silent nod of greeting, and the second offered to Leslyn. "And, Ah promise, its just water." He watches Leona cautiously before turning back to his seat, and returning to nursing his own beverage of choice.
Aoriya chants to herself. "water makes it worse, water makes it worse, water makes it worse." She smiles shakily to Leslyn. "I was told drink beer instead." Gulp glup, "because water makes the spice worse."
Dragons> Lakareth rumbles at the rejected brown, with a mental snicker. Oh, he feels confident today. /He/ wasn't rejected, after all. The large autumn brown ambles over, his limp barely noticable today. The often grumpy old brown watches Ankhepith carefully, feigning the same bored attitude as his rider in the bar.
Dragons> Ankhepith glances up at the sky again, wings shuffling with a little annoyance. The faint glow of her hide isn't getting any more noticeable, most would consider her to still be some time off from rising but she apparently knows better. Rising slowly she wanders up to each of her new acolytes, peering deeply into their eyes. Another is chased off, a bronze rejected for no obvious reason, before a thougth is dropped into the mind of each of those remaining. « When it's time, you will know. »
Leslyn eyes her glass a little suspiciously, though a sniff test proves it to not be a lie and she murmurs a quiet, "Thanks." She quickly shakes her head to Aoriya, "Depends how much of it you drink. You'd be better off with yoghurt to be honest but they don't keep that behind the bar."
Dragons> Dhonzayth seems to know better too, drawn as he was, along with the others. As Ankhepith approaches him, he freezes like a priest before the goddess he serves, hoping to still be found acceptable. And, as she continues, he relaxes only slightly, not even sparing the discarded bronze a look. He will know, but yet, he will wait here.
Dragons> Omasuth steps politely back from the lady and sits down neatly. He growls softly to the rejected bronze. «Patience is a virtue.» Quoted absently, almost lazily. The brown settles down to wait. His fiery tail twitches back and forth, tap, tap, tap, tap on the ground.
Leona glances over at Aoriya, and shakes her head, "Don't touch the spices myself." she notes, idly. That doesn't really help any. Her ale arrives, and she tosses a mark the bartender's way, heading over to sit at a nearby table. Leslyn's nod gets a toast from Leona, a wordless raise of her bottle of ale to the goldrider, and the Weyr, and, well, it could be just about anything, she doesn't really specify. The brownrider looks curiously to L'ton, she'd noticed him watching her, but she doesn't say anything.
"That stuff any good?" L'ton queries Leona, as he glances down at his own, emptying drink, curious to a new source of well… intoxication. "Can't say Ah don't do as Ah'm told." Even though the water was apparently the wrong thing to get, he was just following directions. He nods absently to Leslyn, with another soft tsk. "Ah wouldn't put anything in it, when ya really didn't want anything."
Dragons> Lakareth really was just here for a bite to eat, but he couldn't help but notice the dragons being drawn to Ankhepith, the browns and the bronzes. «Not right now, it's not.» he rumbles hungrily in response to Omasuth, though he's not making any move towards Ankhepith, or towards food. He may appear cranky and impatient, but only the first half of that is true, and that only is because cranky seems to be his natural state.
Dragons> Ankhepith backs away from the men now, moving towards the herd but only so that they scatter before her. Her pens. Her Weyr! Well for not at least. She settles down to wait for something, front legs stretched out before her sphinx-like, head tilted upwards and eyes apparently focussed somewhere beyond the clouds.
Dragons> Dhonzayth relaxes slightly further as the idol settles down, though still ready to move at a moment's notice, should the mistress of the hunt deem it necessary. Wings are spread to ensure he maintains his personal space, choosing to ignore the other males, instead focusing on the gold who is focused elsewhere.
Dragons> Omasuth rumbles amusedly at the queen's show of power, eyes whirling appreciatively. «If it is not right now, then why don't you walk over there?» He suggests as if serious. He raises his neck, peering towards the pale golden form yonder. «Unless you'd rather get chased off like that bronze.»
Dragons> Lakareth settles in for a long wait. His eyes start to wander from Ankhepith to the food, but he's not really that hungry that he'd ignore the great sphinx-like gold before him. Omasuth is rumbled at, though no real reply is forthcoming, Lakareth instead craning his neck to peer up at the sky, trying to see just what it is that Ankhepith is focused on up there.
Aoriya shrugs. "My older sister always said that when I travel I should try local food, including spices. And this is the first one I've had of the evening." Referring to the beer.
Dragons> A cloud lazily makes its way in front of the sun, but apparently that's not the sign she's looking for because Ankhepith doesn't move. Even when she sun re-emerges she stays where she is. The men are ignored, the group having been sorted to her satisfaction so far. Her only movement is her tail, which swishes back and forth then stills once more.
Dragons> Dhonzayth has found a reserve of patience, for he continues to sit, waiting, unwilling to move and risk flushing the game prematurely. As the clouds float lazily, the rays of the sun coming and going much like the motion of Ankhepith's tail, still he waits.
Leslyn returns Leona's toast with a raise of her own glass, but it's L'ton who she replies to a little sheepishly, "I know, just you can never be sure of anything at the moment." She rolls her eyes slightly, this apparently a throwback to an earlier conversation. To Aoriya she nods, "Your sister's right, though you might want to work your way up the heat levels rather than just jump in."
Leona raises an eyebrow, then grins at the bottle on the table in front of her. "Any good? Good enough that I'm thinking of hiring help. I've been stretched a bit thinly lately." Leona nods, then points out, "Tanner's Friend is my own brew. Not many bars have it at the moment. More a problem with supply than with demand." She comments idly, nodding absently to Leslyn's replied toast, her mind now on her ale brewing operation.
Dragons> Omasuth growls, a little impatient, but trying. A fair lady must never be rushed. He quivers, bowing his head in her presence. Calculating gazes peer at the herdbeasts, their distance, the gathering males. His tail swings back and fort patiently, a leopard in the shadows waiting to strike.
"Sometimes, just cause its local, dun mean its good." L'ton offers quickly, apparently having food that he prefers to avoid himself. "Ah know, Ah know, but Ah'm not out ta get ya lil'bit. Ah dun want yer dad after me, once he's undistracted." Arching an eyebrow at Leona, he hms softly, finishing his own drink, and moving back to the bar. "Then Ah think Ah'll give it a try. Though, if'n its rough brownrider.." A teasing threat lingers as he orders his drink, and returns. "To new things." He offers quickly, taking an experimental taste.
Dragons> Lakareth shifts uncomfortably, adjusting the position of his weaker foreleg for greater comfort. While Ankhepith sits there like a solid gold statue, Lakareth is more like a tree. A big old gnarled tree, moving only slightly in the wind. He ruffles his wings a little, as if to warm them up before the flight, though it doesn't look like any kind of useful exercise.
Dragons> Ankhepith senses a disturbance in her neatly laid plan. Though she doesn't rise from position her head does swing round in time to see the rejected brown creeping closer once more. The snarl she gives is unmistakably a warning, and he has the good sense to not only back off but to leave entirely. With a slight nod she goes back to waiting and watching the skies.
There's a soft padding of feet as A'tien comes into the sable sands. Seeming driving by some unseen force. That force is probably Cereth, but, who knows. He offers a quiet nod to those scattered around, immidiately picking out Leslyn. The lad is quickly drawn to the goldrider, "Hello, Leslyn."
Dragons> Cereth flies down into the feeting grounds, not even bothering to touch down onto the field as he picks out one of the herdbeasts running around. His green whirling eyes quickly turn to a shade of purle as he grabs the first one in his claws, immidiately landing onto it and killing it under his weight. He latches onto it with his muzzle, lapping up the blood that oozes out of the animal under him, his eyes on one thing and one thing only, Ankhepith.
Dragons> Dhonzayth turns as Ankhepith does to offer his own hiss at the creeping brown. Wings spread protectively over his portion of the Feeding Grounds, protecting his place within the hunting party.
Dragons> Omasuth snorts. He stands, pacing back and forth. He regards the bronze who's gone ahead and blooded without the queen's permission. Then he joins Dhonzayth in growling at the now exiled brown. One less competition. So now he's sizing up the competition gathered to sky stare/foodstare/babewatch. A low rumble, like thunder, breaks free from his throat.
"It's not the one the kids got at a couple of turns ago is it?" Leslyn asks quietly, but as A'tien arrives she gets distracted which is a very good thing. "Art? Remember what we were talking about on the beach the other day? She's only gone and shaffing well done it."
Leona glances to her ale, and chuckles. "Indeed. I wind up all over Pern, and I do like to try new things, but when it comes to food, I'll stick with what I know, thanks." Leona does frown at the reminder of what those kids got up to. "Does it matter whose it was? The brewers can hardly be blamed for what they got up to. I blame the parents. My children weren't involved in that, they knew better. Security helps, and I changed my operation quite a bit after … that. I've a small part of it running out of my weyr now, and the rest in Ierne and Telgar, watched over by family members."
Dragons> Lakareth bugles a taunt as the other brown slinks off with his tail between his legs. «Go fly a green!» he teases, or insults, in better spirits now. He knows he's at least permitted to chase, even if he, as a brown, is at a disadvantage. So he sits, and watches Ankhepith, ready to spring into action, to kill and to blood, the very moment that she does.
Dragons> Ankhepith hisses at Cereth, ruffling her wings angrily at him. As her temper darkens so does the sky, though the two are most assuredly not linked. It starts quietly enough, one big fat raindrop splashing onto the back of a herdbeast near the fence. Now is the time. Now she is ready, whether anyone wishes to believe it or not. In one swift movement she launches through the now steadily falling rain at the anointed herdbeast, ending its life with one swipe of a forefoot and abandoning it bleeding on the floor of the pens. It's another beast that she fells and drinks from - sacrifice made, blood taken.
A'tien offers a comforting look to Leslyn, offering to put his hand on her shoulder, "It'll be okay." He assures her quietly, looking over at the others with a calculating gaze. "Cereth's all ready decided he's flying."
Dragons> Dhonzayth hesitates as the sacrificial beast falls, a token to the golden goddess, before the lean bronze is upon his own beast, this member of her loyal servants taking part in his mistress's ritual with eagerness. The herdbeast is taken down without hesitation, pale muzzle dropping to drain it, the blood of another strengthening this, to set the stage for the true hunt.
L'ton still seems to be pondering the drink in his hand, though it seems to pass his test for he takes another long drink. As the subject shifts, he shakes his head. "What happened, happened. No need ta get all upset about it." And he actually sulks slightly - so he might be a somewhat bad father, but. Glancing up at A'tien, he nods his head to the other bronzerider, before going back to nursing his drink, while Dhonzayth nurses his herdbeast of choice.
Dragons> Omasuth roars in excitement as he leaps into action. A firey bullet shooting through the pens towards the nearest bull. Sheerkhan the Tiger King has found dinner. Snap! The neck and jugular are snapped, spraying blood as the creature goes down with a bam. Feral, destructive as Kali's tiger messangers, Omasuth claws open the beasts belly. He dips his head to drink, fires stoked with a crimson explosion of life giving liquid. A snarl betrays barely contained power.
Dragons> Cereth lifts up his head as he's hissed at, letting out a quiet growl at her in responce, his tail curling ever so slightly and flicking. He's not afraid, he can deal with golds. And as she takes to the skies, he's close behind. His wings fan out, catching the wind as he surges upwards.
Aoriya shakes her head. Then she stops short, and then starts eating as fast as she possibly can and not choke. Gulp gulp gulp. She only interrrupts the frenzied eating with a few swigs of beer.
Leslyn nods quickly to Leona, "I was just asking. No blame. Just wondered." She lets out a sigh, reaching a hand up to pat A'tien's. A moment's hesitation, brief glazing of eyes, and she's on her feet and at the door, yelling out into the rain, "It's not time you stupid, stubborn, smokeless…" And here she adds in a description of Ankhepith that is not only unjustified, but would probably make a sailor blush.
L'ton, even, finds it hard to sulk and nurse his alcohol when Leslyn suddenly takes off, and L'ton's not far after her. "Leslyn, keep yer hold on her, lil'bit. Even if yer mad!" He hurriedly calls, despite his trust in her abilities its something he felt he needed to say.
Leona has gone fairly quiet now, sipping at her ale very slowly, as if it might be her last. "Well. There he goes." she sighs, and holds her ale at arm's length, her expression clearly one of disgust, as if a foul taste has suddenly filled her mouth. The disgusted expression seems quickly to be replaced by another, as the brownrider finds herself slipping away. She suddenly blinks however, brought back to the pub by Leslyn's string of curses. Well, that was unexpected. "Bad timing, huh?"
Dragons> Lakareth watches Ankhepith take a sacrifice, and springs into action, ignoring the sacrificed and abandoned beast in favour of a fresh one, the kill his own, the blood unspoilt. In fact, the blood doesn't even get a chance to spill to the ground, as he channels his hunger to thirst and bloods as he's never blooded before, with as yet unseen urgency, ferocity, passion, at least for this brown.
Dragons> Ankhepith slashes at another beast, but this barely gets a sip before she takes off into the air. Perhaps there was something to the lack of glow, but whatever mood has taken her is the only thing she can concentrate on. Up. The one thought practically echoes around the weyr as she strives for height, hide dark against the equally dark skies and wings pounding.
"She's got another month to go! At least!" Leslyn yells at the world. "She's just being… You're just being petty!" A fist is shaken at the sky, at the world, mostly at Ankhepith. Water? Not any more. "I need a drink."
Dragons> Dhonzayth is in the middle of his next beast, when the mistress of the hunt suddenly breaks for the skies, and Dhonzayth is quick to follow, pale wings spread to push him upwards, chasing the lead, not willing to let her leave him behind. He will participate in this hunt, he will. And so, he works to climb, despite the elements, to see the hunt to the end. Limbs are pulled close and faceted eyes sparkle in a bit of stray light as each wingstroke adds altitude.
L'ton hesitates where he is near Leslyn. "Maybe she is, but she's still up." And, probably against his better judgment, the Tanner's Friend in his hand is pushed towards Leslyn - anything to get her to relax, and focus on the surprising task at hand.
Dragons> Omasuth tosses aside his second prey, a wherry, and then leaps upwards, shooting up towards the skies for the ethereal golden goddess above him. Snarling he pumps his wings for all the altitude they can provide before leveling off and using the beach thermals to circle higher. The gold is still on his radar however, a glance cast for her position as he pulls for maximum altitude.
Dragons> Cereth leaps up into the air, his wings beating to catch the air under his wings to gain altitude. The others are ignored, there's only one thing on his mind, and that's the flight. He lets the thermals catch his wings, helping him to keep on the gold's tail.
Aoriya asks the bartender for more beer. "And no lime in it this time. And some bread to go with it, so that I can remember tonight." She grumbles as she starts on the last two slices of wherry and 6 hot peppers.
Dragons> Lakareth stops at one beast, finishing his first as Ankhepith kills and then discards another. He stretches his wings wide, then relaxes them slightly, and takes off for the sky. He must focus his attention on the dark dragon in the dark sky, or else he might lose her, and that would not do. The rain splashes off of his hide, doing very little to cool the passionate fire that the blood ignited within.
"Stupid, stupid…" Leslyn shakes her head before throwing back a slug of L'ton's beer. Whether it hits the sides on the way down is anyone's guess, but it doesn't seem to have any noticeable effect on her mood. "Fine." She glares round at those nearby, "If she can be stubborn then so can I. I'm moving next door and you can follow if you want. But the first one that touches me will get a black eye. If they're lucky, only a black eye."
Ista Weyr - Guest Room 1
This spacious guest room seems to be in a green theme. The double bed is covered in deep forest green comforter. The rug covering the wooden floor in the center of the room is in many shades of woven green. A wardrobe is in dark laquered green in one corner for the guests belongings. The walls have been painted a sage green complimenting all the other colours in the room.
Dragons> Troyseth is generally not one to lag behind or tarry. The dark hued Eastern bronze has a good record for being spot on in flights, but there is a time for everything and the younger bronze now finds himself launching in behind the group, much to his own inner frustrations. Always courteous to the golds and he was not lacking with Ankhepith, always formulating a plan under his 'gentlemen' ruse but all that was shattered and thrown to the wind the moment she found him unfitting. That certainly befuddled Troyseth and threw him off long enough for the competition to get ahead. But he's not one to give up too easily - not yet. There's still time. And so with a powerful sweep of his wings, he begins his chase. His plans have changed it seems, but his goal is still focused on one thing alone.
L'ton pouts slightly as he loses his beer, but it seems that its a worthy sacrifice, for he follows along behind Leslyn at a safe distance. He's had enough black eyes from Pi, he doesn't want to add Leslyn to the list of girls who've punched him. And so, he lingers slightly more than an arm's reach from Leslyn, hoping to encourage her the best he can, despite his own distraction.
Dragons> Ankhepith angles sharply left, aiming for the ocean and the emptiness beyond. As the rain begins to beat down harder she finds a thermal and lifts higher. A frustrated hiss escapes from her as already she can feel the effects of her haste. As stubborn as her rider she continues to climb, seeking to at least get to a safe height.
Aoriya sits at the /far/ end of the room, chewing absently on a large slice of buttered crusty bread from the bar. Aoriya sighs absently as her eyes go vacant in response to Omasuth in hot pursuit of a golden lady in the rain. "Just don't get burned." she says to nobody.
G'rism is much like his own lifemate - dallying behind, rather then being in the thick of things. So while he does arrive at the end of the group, he looks as though he almost ran to keep up with the rest of them. However he too keeps to the far side of the room, although his gaze is more or less fixed on Leslyn at this point. Nothing is said - the time has passed for that now, at least for this bronzerider.
Dragons> Dhonzayth drops one side to bank after the fleeing gold, trying hard to keep up speed, to stay in close pursuit. As Ankhepith gains height once more, he remains where he is, worried about the distance. After all, what goes up must come down. And any hunt that happens prematurely will likely end prematurely. As the gold issues a frustrated hiss, Dhonzayth slides into a thermal, rising a bit closer to her, edging a brown out of his spot behind and below her. And so, the pursuit continues, hunter and hunted, mistress of the hunt and her faithful servants, Dhonzayth amongst them with completely abandon to the golden goddess's demands, unable to withstand the draw of the queen.
Dragons> Cereth's lack of blooding takes its toll, the bronze dropping lower and lower and eventually returning home.
Leona isn't really sure why she's following, but here she is, drawn by Lakareth's own desires. She downs the rest of her ale at once, sighing at the empty bottle. "It's raining." she murmurs idly, though there's not a drop of water on her. "He's crazy, insane, he should stick to greens. Greens are more his speed." she's mumbling over and over. Leona's got nothing against golds or their riders, it's losing flights that she'd rather avoid.
Dragons> Rain streams off of Omasuth as he streaks after Ankhepith. He moves silently, his tail lashing like a snack. His front legs and back legs are pulled tight to his body, his wings are pumping like a madman (using every ounce of power they can derive from blood, wind and muscle.) The retreat of one of the bronzes results in a roar of triumph. One less competition as the bronze ruthlessly pounds onward, rain washing the blood clean from his throat, chest, and muzzle.
Leslyn begins to pace slowly across the room, pausing now and then to glare at either the roof or those who have followed her. Even when A'tien makes a quiet retreat she doesn't stop glowering at people, she just keeps drinking at L'ton's beer till it's gone and she's forced to find something else to do - she chooses to sit on her hands.
Dragons> Lakareth surges forward, barely noticing Cereth drop out of the flight. Lakareth has had enough to blood, he's sure of it. As Ankhepith heads for the ocean, so too does Lakareth. His efforts are put towards stamina here, not agility as they might be in a green flight. Stamina is truly what he was made for, stamina, and speed. His wiry body cuts through the air with very little resistance, simply because there's not much to resist, it's all length, long and skinny.
Dragons> Troyseth doesn't have much going for him, in his current situation. He'll be using a lot of his strength just to close the distance, but his flaw with determination and stubborness fuel him on - and perhaps his inexperience. The rain fall is ignored at best, as are the first males he begins to pass. As Ankhepith seeks out a safe height, he uses the familiar trick of the first thermal he can find. Now that he trails more or less near the back of pack, like a stalking shadow, he ebbs off on his madden pursuit. He's not as close as he'd wish to be, but to drive forward now would not be wise. No, he'll lay in wait, formulate a new plan and observe every minute move of the gold before him.
Aoriya growls in her throat. She can only see what Omasuth does, enraptured with his flight as she slowly chews her way through the piece of bread, oblivious to its presence.
Dragons> Ankhepith is failing, her wing beating slower and slower as she strives to get just that little bit more height. They always say pride comes before a fall and with a screech of frustration Ankhepith does just that. Through the rain she starts to drop, no longer in complete control, victim of her own pride and lack of blooding.
Dragons> Dhonzayth suddenly finds his preferred spot lacking, for as the golden goddess begins to falter, falling from the graceful goddess to her mere avatar, he's no longer below her. Instead, he drops his wings to fall after her, attempting to twine his neck with hers, talons outstretched to stop her fall, to pull her upwards through the falling rain. WIth a trumpet, as the quarry is near and exhausted, it seems the end of the hunt is at hand, and the party must support the mistress. And so, he stretches, hoping to halt her fall and to bring her once more back into full glory.
Dragons> Omasuth growls wings throbbing he falls into a dive, wings folded behind like streamers of fire. The phoenix falling after the sphinx. His hands reach out for the wisdom and strength she can offer, crooning melodiously to her. His blazing purple eyes smoulder with torchfire. Come with me, fly with me, love with me. Passion overflowing he rumbles like the thunder of the lightning above. Falling like a kite.
Dragons> Lakareth has been victim to pride in his own time, often his rider's, but with no shortage of his own. Now, for a change, he's seeing another fall for their pride, and he rather likes it. That is to say, he thinks he might actually have a chance, as he pumps his massive wings and maneuvers into position beneath Ankhepith, attempting to fly upwards from there and carry them both up, up, higher into the sky.
Dragons> Troyseth springs back to life the moment Ankhepith's screech of frustration reaches him over the sound of rain and wind. And in an unusual twist, the young bronze voices the deepest bellow of challenge he can muster before putting his reserved strength into play. His time is now and from his position behind and below, he breaks from the thermal he was coasting on and angles upwards, wings beating furiously to gain such an altitude at such a rate. But his desire is strong to capture the falling gold within his outstretch talons that the ache of tiredness can be ignored for just a little longer. He's determined to make up for his earlier judgement - to prove himself as worthy as any bronze can be. So now he fights against time and disadvantage, throwing all he has in the last crucial seconds, determined to be the one who carries Ankhepith safely to the heights she had tried earlier to achieve.
Leona paces the floor, back and forth, back and forth. Lakareth is up in the sky, Lakareth thinks he has a chance. "Lakareth… is a fool." she's still muttering on about that. "Come back down, Lakareth, come down, we've got work to do, Lakareth. Come on." she's mumbling, but it's definitely too late now. "Come on! He's not even /here/, Lakareth!" she cries, cursing the brown and his foolish pride. Her mate is not here, and Lakareth … he won't be in a mood to take her anywhere, win or lose, and she's /quite/ sure it'll be the latter.
Dragons> Down, down, down… Wings and feet fight against the inevitable, eyes colouring with a touch of fear amidst everything else. As Leslyn lets out a scream below, Ankhepith echoes it above as she collides with three chasers but keeps falling. Then there's lift. Then there's another to aid her plan. Rejected before, but now more than happily accepted, she twines with Troyseth and lets him carry her to safety.
Dragons> Omasuth growls, snarling as he overshoots the mark. Thank you upshot of aircurrent. The brown has been both thrown off his game and robbed of his prize in the process. A turn back to the Weyr is managed.
Aoriya jerks to alertness, the bread dropping into her lap. She drops it in the trashcan and beats a hasty retreat.
Leslyn has been mostly immune up till now, anger taking precedence. Even not there's not the usual clothes-ripping urgency flights usually bring, but G'rism is there and… well there is a bed. It'd be a shame to not use it at least once. Her head spins, a combination of beer and dragon, and she simply lies back on the bed and waits for him to come to her.
L'ton is out a beer, and out other things, it seems, and he's hurriedly backing out of the room.
Dragons> Lakareth cries out as he's collided with, all too suddenly to make a catch of it. He falls back a ways, and then there's Ankhepith, twined with Troyseth. Lakareth admits defeat, and spirals back to the feeding grounds to finish off that herdbeast.