Ista Weyr - Main Beach
The famous black sands of Ista spread out about the great cove upon which the weyr has been built, gleaming under the rays of both sun and moon, like diamonds in their own pristine beauty. Caught between the brilliance of the deep, verdant greens of the forest, and the crystalline blues of the shallows, gradually deepening their colour deeper into the great ocean, the beach is no less striking, truly beautiful in its own way.
The hot, heavy rays of the sun reach deep into these sands, forever blazing underfoot, although the water remains cool and refreshing even upon the hottest of days, never quite reaching the point of being tepid. Off to one side, coming from the plateau, a small, thin waterfall, empties into a catching pool that runs off into the water through dark sand and pebbles.
Early afternoon on a blustery day, not the best of days to be out sunbathing but then some people don't always do what's best. Despite the drier sand being blown around, despite the fact it's possibly not warm enough for it, despite the fact that there have been several people giving her very odd looks over the past hour Leslyn is doing just that - sunbathing. Stretched out on a towel, that she's occasionally having to pick off her and spread back on the beach, she is doing her best to ignore the world.
It's rare to find Aryll out of the Sands this early in the day, but lucky for the blonde she's got the day off! She's wearing a gray blue one piece bathing suit and carries a raggedy red towel as she makes her way down the beach. Obviously she's looking for just the right spot, and with the wind kicking up the sand into her eyes it's rather difficult. When she spots the sunbathing rider she pauses, pondering if Leslyn would be a good windbreaker and if she should spread her towel on the other side of the woman. "Uh, mind if I join you?" She asks, finally deciding that Leslyn would do just fine.
Leslyn cracks an eye open, squinting up at Aryll just to make sure that she's not a certain bronzeirder that's been banned from her company. While her immediate reply of "Sure." isn't perhaps the most enthusiastic in the world, it's followed up with a slightly cheerier, "Good to have someone finally admit it's too hot today. Everyone else has said it's too cold, but it's really too hot. Don't you think? Almost summer hot."
Aryll doesn't seem phased by the less than excited reply, but she does send the goldie a grin when she starts making conversation. "Thanks." She says before spreading out her towel on the downwind side of rider. "Well, I've swam in worse. I en't really that put off by the cold usually. Unless it's /really/ bad. Just like swimming too much." She says with a smirk, plopping down roughly before looking out at the water. "Shards, kinda choppy though…" She mutters darkly, noting the wave pattern before turning her attention back to Leslyn. "You do this often? I en't remember seeing you much."
"Only when it's hot." Leslyn replies, and to her credit she does seem to be acting as if overly warm. Turning her head she peers at Aryll once more, flattening her towel behind her once more. "I've seen you up at the… the thing though. The whatsit. Sands. You're Avril, right?" Well she's close at least, "Wouldn't have put you down for the swimming type, though. You good at it?"
"Ah," Aryll says thoughtfully, her eyes looking up at the sun. Today wasn't what she'd classify as hot at all, maybe a bit on the warm side but that was it really. "You alright? I brought a flask with me if you want something to drink. No need to worry, it en't hard liquor." Hey, the girl worked at a bar! Could you blame her? When Leslyn recognizes her she grins, but then when she mentions the name Avril her nose wrinkles up a bit. "Aryll, actually. And yah, I'm a bartender now, was a waitress before though." She puffs up a bit at the mention of her swimming skills. "Course I am! Been swimming since I was born! Istan after all, what else is there beside a good swim?" Her eyes dart over to Leslyn, a slight smirk creeping over. "Why, do you?"
Leslyn considers the flask for a moment, before shaking her head. "Shouldn't really, last time I drank anything on the beach I ended up getting lectured for about a day by the League." She and Aryll are sunbathing despite the distinct lack of heat and the wind that's blowing across the beach. "Course I swim." She grins back, "Wouldn't say I could swim to Fort or anything, but I don't drown."
"Well, if you change your mind just let me know." Aryll says with a giggle, taking a swig before covering the flask with a corner of her blanket. "Who lectured? And why? Did you get smashed and offend someone?" She asks bluntly, squinting her eyes shut as a particularly strong gust of wind sends sand right into her face. "Ah," She says after the wind has subsided, reopening her peepers. "Well, I en't able to either but, I can swim pretty far. And fast too! We should race sometime."
Leslyn laughs and shakes her head, "The only time I got massively drunk was when my best friend slept with my father. Well sort of. That was weird. Friends don't sleep with parents, you know?" She pauses to flatten her towel again, picking it free from her legs, "But the League can be… well were you around when they did that whole Sands blockade thing? When the kid fell down the waterfall? They were racing then, you know."
M'ori takes a deep lungfull of island air. "Oh where oh where did that seller go." He mutters. "I can't wait all day, its a big shipment!" M'ori grumbles aloud, checking a piece of paper with directions and a time on it. "I just don't get it. Mona is always very punctual. Especially when there are marks involved!"
Ankhepith> While most queens sleep before a flight, Ankhepith has never been like most queens. She has her rituals, her strange ways. Today she lies at the side of the pens, watching the sky. Every now and then there's a gust of wind that ruffles her wings, but her head remains tilted upwards, fixed on an empty patch of air.
"Well shards, that would certainly require getting drunk." Aryll says with a giggle, shaking her head a bit as she listens on. "Yah, I en't think that's right really. I know people are funny about parents and sex and all." She takes a moment to brush sand off her face, her nose wrinkling a bit before a small sneeze is covered up with a hand. "Sharding sand." She grumbles, tucking a few strands behind her ears. When Leslyn brings up the League she rolls her eyes playfull. "Yah, I remember that. Me and a few brats would dare each other to steal wine after that, managed it once or twice, me of course." Can't keep a good brat down!
Ankhepith> Zaruath's perched up on a ledge, watching the nervous herdbeasts move and the wherries go round and round. All his attention focused on the animals more than the queen, though there were the occasional glances her way so she wasn't completely ignored.
"You wouldn't believe how much it needed." Leslyn agrees with a laugh. M'ori's arrival gets a quick bheck, and when he's deemed safe she waves over at him. Her reply is back to Ayrll though, "Everyone's done that, just some people don't know when to stop. Course some people just enjoy spoiling everyone else's fun." Depsite another gust of wind swirling the sand around, she tugs at the neck of her shirt. "It's getting warmer."
Ankhepith> Uluameth has gone looking for a snack, and gotten more than he'd bargained for. Ankhepith is watching the skies, the herdbeasts are milling nervously, the bronze cocks his head curiously at Ankhepith, eyes beginning to whirl lavender as he moves to the edge of the pens, ready to spring should the queen begin to blood.
Ankhepith> Ankhepith's head barely moves as Uluameth arrives, gaze remaining riveted on that spot of sky. Slowly, impatiently, her tail beginning to flick, and it seems she's watching for something. Waiting for something. Her wings flick out then resettle. Waiting.
Ankhepith> Round and round… Zaruath's favorite past-time, staring at those herdbeasts and looking for the right one to kill if he didn't just go down and start killing them all. His tongue flicks out to like his muzzle, attention suddenly caught by the twitching queen's tail instead. He half-spreads his wings, staring intently for a long moment before he returns to watching the animals instead and looking uninterested.
Aryll smirks, taking a moment to grab up her flask again and steal another swig. It was just a cocktail after all, so basically like juice! "Well hopefully you drank enough to wipe the worst of it out." She says after lowering the flask, her eyes following Leslyn's over to M'ori. She examines the bronzer before giving him a wave too. "Yah think? I en't really felt a change… You en't coming down with something, is you?"
Ankhepith> Dhonzayth is at Ista, it seems, despite the best efforts of the young woman Leslyn to ensure that he and his lifemate are anywhere but at their humble home Weyr. While the other males have settled, watching the very gold that drew even him to this spot, Dhonzayth is attempting to look as inconspicuous as possible. Even the might gods require a disguise, to woo those ladies that are out of their reach, and the brassy bronze is no different. While the goddess Ankhepith waits, waits for the moment to begin her hunt, the brassy bronze lurks above on a ledge, though his hide is anything but gleaming. Dust clings to him, darkening his pale colors to an odd khaki hue, clinging to his translucent wingsails, and rendering him a brown, at least for the time being.
Leslyn shakes her head, kicking at the towel this time as the wind makes it determined to wrap around her, "Got me drunk enough to go yell at her about it. Not a good plan. Actually taking a hangover to the baths, that's a worse plan." There's a pause as she considers the illness idea, then she shakes her head. "I have bad luck, but I don't think it's quite bad enough to catch a dragon cough."
M'ori spots Leslyn and hurries over, maybe a junior weyrwoman will be able to tell him. "I'm sorry to bother you miss, I'm looking for a weaver named Mona? Green Pendraith's? She has a shipment for me for my store and I'm already running late." He tells her.
Ankhepith> Uluameth stretches, leg leg, arm arm, wing wing, curve the tail thats the way, now the neck. The bronze gets the kinks out and then focuses his gaze on Ankhepith. He waits, on the edge of his proverbial seat for the queen to begin blooding.
Ankhepith> Ankhepith's head moves for a second, glancing around the pens to make sure nobody is breaking rules they most likely don't even know existed. Pleased by the show of deference she stretches out one leg and gives a little warble. But the moment is just that, seconds long, and she looks back to the sky again.
While Dhonzayth may be a sneaky bronze, hide darkened by dust, L'ton has taken no such measures. However, even had he chosen to darken his hair, nothing could disguise that nose of his. And so, the Istan Weyrsecond has wandered down to the beach, drawn for some reason or another - though its probably a good thing that he has no survival instincts whatsoever. For now, he's still meandering, though he's moving closer to those sunbathing, not realizing just who it is.
K'ael is planning to join the party down at the beach! Actually, he looks rather ready to go swimming, dressed in just a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, with a towel over his shoulder. He's even sporting some dark glasses. This bronzer was ready for the warmer weather! Of course the first person he spots is blonde Aryll, moving over her way with a smile plastered to his face. He was supposed to be mad at her, but it was just so gosh darn hard. There's a nod to the rest of the riders about as he greets his blonde with a kiss on the cheek. "Hey, Aryll."
Well Ly'am had his visit with his Aunt Lisle, one of those family obligations one must deal with on occasion and he decided to linger. Well Ista is a fair bit warmer than Reaches especially this time of year where the lake still is as cold as ice. His bronze of course makes way for the beach, leaving Ly'am to trundle along in his wake, hands stuffed in his pockets as he ambles along. His shoulder chin length hair is a wavy tussle of hair that most bairly resist the urge towant to run a brush through.
Aryll watches as the Junior fights the towel, mentally high5ing herself for using the goldie as a wind shield. "Shards… you en't fallen or something, did you? Knocked your head on the floor or nothing?" When Leslyn reassures her she's fine she purses her lips, moving to help with one of the more stubborn corners. "Bad luck?" But her attention is caught up by M'ori now, the teen eyeing the bronzer curiously. But then there's another more familiar rider and she squints a bit, her eyes moving from L'ton to Leslyn. This would be interesting. She's so focused on the Weyrsecond that K'ael catches her by surprise. "Oh, hey Mikey!" Shards, it's getting kinda crowded, en't it?"
Ankhepith> Zaruath twitches some more at the queen's warble, but he doesn't make his move. Even if he /was/ there just to hunt, he wasn't going to make any move. Nope, not with all those big bronzes starting to join them. He sinks his claws into the rock of the ledge he was on, hunkering down low and deciding to keep to one target instead. And that's Ankhepith. Not quite interested, but not quite ready to step over her to make a kill of his own.
Ankhepith> Uluameth sits patiently, his eyes turn to the sky to try and figure out what the queen is staring at. His front talons twitch and tap, drumming the ground thoughtfully as he joins the queen in watching the skies.
Leslyn nods, "Bad luck." But she doesn't clarify, instead she greets M'ori with a bright "Hi. Nope, not seen her. This is Avril." She nods to Aryll, getting the poor girl's name wrong for the second time running. "Pull up a bit of towel, if you can keep the wind off it." K'ael's arrival receives a very small wave, which soon becomes a finger wave as she slaps the hand back down on the most stubborn of towels. L'ton, thankfully, is unnoticed for now.
F'yr, unfortunately, had to get some fresh air at some point! Especially since her lifemate was off doing his own thing instead of hovering over her, thankfully. Even for the gloomy brownrider. She was trudging along the dark Istan beach, too out of it to realize that she was heading in the direction of the crowd instead and apparently too lost in her own thoughts to catch any of the familiar voices.
L'ton tugs his jacket a bit closer, as the cold wind continues to whip its way down the beach, throwing sand to and fro. Nature, however, is taking care of ruffling his hair for him, though he still lifts his hand to run through his hair. Clasping his jacket, he's shoving his hands in his pockets, making a face as he spots the Weyrleader there, with Aryll. Only then to realize that beyond them is Leslyn - precisely the person who he should be avoiding. And yet, he stops in his tracks, opening his mouth to say something, but changing his mind and just edging closer, a smirk on his face.
M'ori nods and sighs. "Alright, thank you. I'm M'ori, bronze Uluameth's of Ierne. I run a clothing shop down at the market there. Its a pleasure to meet you." He introduces himself with all the energetic courtesy of a salesman. "If you see her can you let Mona know I was looking?"
Ly'am is lost in his own little world and has L'ton stops dead in his tracks, well the lad just walks right into the back of him, "Oh hey sorry there…" He calls out to the man, reaching out to steady him if his bump she cause him to fall. Odryth of course continues on unheaded toward the water, stepping carefully into as if testing the temperature then continuing on in when he realizes it is well warmer than his own lake.
Arriving from a somewhat unexpected direction perhaps is D'son, especially given the weather. A little fishing boat pulls up into the shallows, and Dels hops over the side, promptly wet up to the knees (good thing he's wearing shorts), as he walks the boat in the rest of the way. He's got rather a thoughtful look on his face as he goes, not overly aware of his surroundings other than the path needed to draw the boat in. Inimeth wings by overhead though, bypassing the beach and D'son lifts a hand to shade his eyes, watching him go with some puzzlement.
K'ael chuckles as Aryll is startled by his appearance. "Heh, hey. Sorry, didnn't mean to scare you. Hello Leslyn." The weyrleader eyes L'ton, but is sort of… confused by his hair color at the moment. And distracted by the younger bronzer that's just bumped into his backside. As Dels pulls up in the boat K'ael turns back to spot F'yr, offering her a wave, as well. Though he doubted she'd head over, with him standing so close to Aryll. Sigh. "Out for a swim?" He asks the weyrwoman and Aryll, mainly.
Ankhepith> Dhonzayth continues to lurk above, darkened body flattened upon the rocky ledge, his wings sagging as he sits, the tip of his muzzle sticking over the ledge as his faceted eyes - the only bright part of his form - keep a watchful eye on the gold below. As the huntess continues to stare upwards, the disguised bronze continues to watch, drawn in by her beautiful form as she sits there, a soft croon escaping him as he offers his sound of aweful wonder.
"Aryll." The blonde corrects, a bit of a frown when Leslyn gets it wrong again. She pats the towel, inviting K'ael to join her with a grin. "Course I am, well was. Then I started chatting with Leslyn." She asks cheerfully, having no idea she's in trouble. Stretching out a bit on the towel she finally decides to take in all of her surroundings and spots F'yr. "Heya, Fy!" She shouts over, not really noting the brownie's stoic mood. "Shards, this really is the hot spot today, en't it? Even L'ton found his way over." This of course is said mostly for the benefit of Leslyn, seeing that the bronzer is intent on sneaking his way over. She bobs her head at M'ori's greeting, one sent to everyone else that keeps popping up.
"Hiii." Leslyn settles on a verbal greeting since waving only sends her towel wrapping around her. At least with a number of people arriving her little bit of beach is getting somewhat less windy, though despite her nodding cheerily to M'ori Aryll's comment sends the temperature soaring. "What? Where?" This time when the towel wraps around her it's with the help of her own hands. "Make him go away." This last is hissed at K'ael.
Ankhepith> They say that when the time is right something will always let you know, and even with flights there is that same reassurance. From out of nowhere a large seabird flies into Ankhepith's line of sight, circles once, and then heads off towards the sea. There is her sign. Now is the time. With a single high-pitched note bursting from her throat, she leaps over the fence and downs a beast that happened to be nearby. The poor creature is slit the length of its belly, innards falling free onto the ground. Having suitibly carved her mark onto this creature the gold leaps again, ignoring this first kill and drinking deeply from the second.
"What, can't do yer dirty work yerself, Leslyn?" L'ton questions as he closes the distance, Aryll getting a glare as she announces his presence, leaving the Istan to deal with the consequences. "Ya've done a good job, the last sevenday er so, keeping me 'way… Yer just disappointed ya couldn't do it when it really matters." L'ton replies, smug and overly cocky, sort of meandering over to where Leslyn is sitting, wrapped up in her towel. Hands remain shoved in his pockets as he moves a bit, settled with the wild wind behind him, to look down at the goldrider. ""Ah'm right, ain't Ah?"
F'yr shoves a hand through her hair, tied back as it was yet still getting in the way because of the windy day. She still wasn't looking her healthiest, what with the lack of sleep and her dark circles, not to mention her hair knotted up. The voices were ignored, her direction still straight, until her name suddenly catches her attention and she is forced to look up. There's a mixture of emotions, mostly hurt and anger— the latter taking part as she fixes the other blonde teen with one of her worst looks possible, only to shift momentarily onto K'ael as well. And then her scowl only darkens. "What the shards do you think /you're/ doing?" Probably not directed to those present.
Ankhepith> Uluameth roars eagerly as he follows her, landing on a buck and breaking its back in two with the force of his weight. He opens his wings, the sails billowing out behind him like a lord holder's finest cape. He roars before plunging his head down and drinking from the buck. The creature is drained dry and, crimson liquid pouring down his glittering dark bronze chest he turns and dashes after another, a wherry, grabbing the poor creature by the hind leg and grabbing its neck. The bronze squeezes, tighter and tighter until the Wherry's head pops off and shoots a few yards over the ground. He sets the kill down and bends to drink again, his blooding having the ritualistic bearing of ancient nobility donning their armor for battle.
D'son wades on in for shore, bringing the boat in and grounding it on the sand. He turns and reaches into the bow to get the bucket of fresh-caught fish and his box of tackle out and turns to walk up along the sand. That's when he finally notices folks and squints against wind and light at the little gathering. It's F'yr his gaze settles on longest, then flicks to a couple of other faces. K'ael. Aryll. And his expression darkens somewhat as he sets down his things. "Hey Fy," he greets the brownrider, nods politely towards the goldrider then turns back to the boat to start hauling it up the sand towards where others of its ilk are often left overturned for general use.
Ankhepith> Inimeth cruises in from overhead on wide, bright wings, angling sharply for the feeding grounds once he's up and over the edge of the plateau. He warbles brightly on arrival, eyes tinged with lavender as he catches sight of Ankhepith. Another warble and it's down he goes to join the carnage in the pens, quickly dispatching a beast of his own. A tentative tendril of thought is wound outward, gauging the queen's mood.
Ly'am starts to follow his beast, starting to tug his boots off despite the wind whipping at his hair sending it this way and that. This still would be a far warmer swim then what he would have at Reaches. He has both boots off and his jacket before he notices the argument on the beach, half the words getting whipped away by the wind…but the wind carries something for Odryth and he looks back to the weyr proper with a curious warble, changing his direction to head toward the pens.
Ankhepith> Zaruath's wings give a flutter at the queen as she suddenly becomes active, answering her call with a bugle of his own. Oh, he'll be answering her challenge. This brown wanted a hunt! It just looked like he was going to become fixed on a different kind of hunt instead. He slides off the ledge, large wings opened enough to get him down safely onto the nearest fleeing best. Knocking it back he sinks his teeth into its exposed belly, making sure that its gurgling cry continued for awhile even as he lapped up what blood he was able to get before it was lost to the ground.
Ankhepith> Azaeth makes his way over to the feeding grounds just as Ankhepith makes her leap over the fence and onto a couple of poor beasts. He'd missed the part to show off to the gold, so it was right into the feeding. The large bronze gets a bit of air, gliding down to survey the scene, then he suddenly dives directly onto a large beast. The impact of the bronze's weight crushes the bones of the beast beneath him, and there's little struggle as the bronze finished the job to drink.
K'ael blinks between Aryll and Leslyn. Did the goldrider just… hiss at him? No wait, that was an instruction. "Huh? L'ton. What are you doing here? I thought Leslyn wanted to murder you." There wouldn't be much point in forcing L'ton to leave. It wouldn't matter much anyways, since he'd just sneak back in. He sighs and flops onto Aryll's blanket. He gives the blonde bartendress a serious look. "You might want to get out of here, Aryll. There's a flight brewing." Though he wasn't entirely convinced she'd have the time. The bronzer passes F'yr a sympathetic look and a bit of a frown.
Ankhepith> Dhonzayth is entranced by the gold, the sight of the fluttering bird missed by the bronze, though Ankhepith's trumpet is his sign, that the hunt is about to begin. The goddess is given the honor due to one of her rank, allowing her time to make the first kill, and in quick sequence the second, before the bronze is tipping forward, falling off the ledge to the feeding grounds below. Dusty wings quickly snap open as he backwings, landing on a herdbeast's back, showing his own hunting ability, before he's dropping his muzzle to the beast, draining it of its liquid energy, turning it into the first of many sacrifices, letting it finish draining in Ankhepith's name, before he's turning to quickly hit a second beast of his own, the blood of this one creating rivlets, running through the dust coating of his serpentine neck.
M'ori sighs and nods, looking out over the water for a moment before looking at Leslyn and then between the other riders in the area before he counts, bronze knot, brown knot, bronze knot, bronze knot. He rolls his eyes and sighs. "Ulu dear, don't be a show off." He growls. "How have things been at Ista lately?" He asks Leslyn cheerfully as she sits. A wane smile crosses his face, then a puzzled look at L'ton.
Aryll can't help but giggle a bit at Leslyn's struggle. "Maybe it's time to call it quits?" She provides, a bit of a smirk crossing her face when the goldie reacts to the news of L'ton's arrival. As for L'ton's glare she just gives him a shrug. She was just stating the obvious! When she turns her attention back to F'yr she catches the glare and just blinks. "What's gotten into her? She looks like…" Then memories of a certain Westerner come into her head and she gives a nervous chuckle. "Guess that en't gone as planned." But then what was D'son looking so angry about?! She just gives up. "Well, this place is getting too crowded for me… And I figured that's why, Mikey." She sends Leslyn a sympathetic look before heading further down the beach. "Uh, good luck?" But who that's directed to is a mystery.
Ankhepith> Ankhepith's mind is focussed on thing - blood. There must be blood. Blood must be given and taken, then and only then will they be welcomed into the dance of the sky. There's no ritual as her third beast is felled and drained, a single note of thanks given for the beast's sacrifice. A fourth beast is quickly dropped, though this time she is slower to drink, eyes whirling as she watches the males, judging the worth of these new acolytes.
Leslyn barely has time to reply, "Oh just perfect." to M'ori before she gets to her feet. "You're right, Avril. Time to end this. Now." Not the end most would want, however. WHAP her fist flies right into L'ton's face, knuckles cracking a little with the impact. In shock she stares down at her hand, "Blood." Finally she's catching on to what's happening. "Oh shells." With a thump she sits back onto the sand.
M'ori claps his hands over his mouth with an appalled look on his face at the punch to L'ton. His eyes wander over the junior weyrwoman but he stays still, lest she decide he needs a sock to the eye or whatever part of L'ton's face she managed to hit. "Hey now, no need to throw your fists. I'm sure whatever the problem is it can be worked out reasonably and fairly like adults work things out."
K'ael frowns at Aryll. Was she really asking him what was wrong with F'yr? He looks at her straight in the face and says, "She's mad about Xe'res." He nods to her as she vacates. Really that was the safest option for her. "See ya, Aryll." He assumes the 'good luck' is not for him. He's so busy watching her depart he nearly misses Leslyn give L'ton a nice hook. "Shards!" After a few blinks he looks down at Leslyn. "Er…" And then to L'ton. "You two… okay?"
Ly'am's undressing does pause at those words. A flight brewing? Did he miss the signs with his Aunt? No…she had eggs on the sands surely it was not her. Ok…worse scenario avoided. He glances around at the various riders. Bronze…Bronze…Bronze..bronze..brown..Gold flight. His gaze trails to his own bronze who is already halfway back up the platuea. His shoes and jacket get abandoned as he heads toward the gathering and then…FISTS? What kind of rider is this!? He just looks wideeyed on the scene before him.
L'ton is still looking rather smug, turning to look at Aryll as she excuses herself, the Weyrsecond quite ready to say something to her as well. However, the opportunity never comes, for Leslyn is getting to her feet, and L'ton is turning to look at her, hands on his hips as he smirks. "What ya gonna do, point yer finger and order me away?" Any such illusions of *that* being the outcome though, quickly disappear in a puff of smoke as Leslyn's fist connects with the side of his face, splitting his lip open and leaving a rather impressive pink spot on his face - one that's already beginning to darken. As she thumps backwards onto the sand, its all the Weyrsecond can do to lift his hand to his lips, staring at the blood on his own fingertips. Slowly, his gaze flicks to each of the other riders there, before it rests back on the goldrider sitting there. "Shards, Leslyn, Ah didn't realize Ah really was right." He pats the back of his hand against his lip a few times, before his sucking on it, shaking his head.
F'yr is looking positively murderous. And the flight wasn't helping any, either. Her plan to leave the group on their own wasn't quite going according to plan, so she's forced to sink her feet into the black sands and glare. D'son gets a glance and a stiff nod before she shifts her feet and starts stomping forward as if she had just decided on something, fists clenched. She was heading right for Aryll when she decided to get up and leave instead. "Bitch," she hisses after her, and then just stands there. "And you're no sharding better," she grumbles to K'ael. It looks like she'd say more, but her anger dissipates as someone else gets decked and her eyes widen at the Wersecond.
Ankhepith> Uluameth thrusts out his chest, striding fowards a few paces to a beast that has tripped in the melee. He looms over the poor, terrified, braying creature before reaching out and stepping on its head. Pressing it into the dirt and muffling its dying bays as it first smothers, then its skull breaks open and it dies. Uluameth bends, thrusting his wings out behind him and sucking up every drop of blood he can reach as it flows from the herdbeasts hemmoraging body.
D'son has the boat about squared away when he catches wind of what K'ael just said and his face sours further. He hauls the craft up the beach and dusts his hands off, looking up towards the Weyr as Inimeth dives into the fray and sighs, rubs at his forehead. Then Leslyn decks L'ton and he stares for a moment open-mouthed, steps over to stand next to F'yr. "Shells …" he breathes out.
Ankhepith> Azaeth has a tendency to chew a bit on his victims, and uses his body weight to squeeze them a bit like a tube of toothpaste. So the beasts are left behind quite mangled. The next beast felled simply gets a sharp thwack to the ground by an oversized paw. It's life is ended quite quickly, allowing the bronze to drink. He turns towards Ankhepith with the beast still in his muzzle, then tosses it aside, lifeless, before choosing a new one.
Ankhepith> Inimeth breathes in the scent of blood just spilled and lets its metallic tang tinge his thoughts, his usually vivid green tendrils taking on a darker color as if steeped in the stuff. It's a mental rather than a physical offering, even as he deals with ending his first beast and lashes out with a swift set of talons to reel in a second. Sacrifices do have to be made sometimes, in order to reach lofty goals.
Ankhepith> Zaruath focuses his attention too much on clawing out the innards of his beast that he was nearly loosing focus on the idea of the flight instead. He pulls himself away with a snarl when a bronze takes out a herdbeast near him. His tail flicks and he jumps away, growling angrily at the crowded pens before he finds a new target to sink his talons into. Much smaller than the competitors, this skeletal brown packed a lot of attitude though. His lustful whirling eyes fix on the big queen as he attaches his mouth to the neck of his new kill.
Ankhepith> Dhonzayth is at Ankhepith's side for every step of the hunt, draining his own beasts in turn, each kill an attempt to prove his own worthiness to the glowing gold goddess that graces them all with her very presence. And yet, at no point does he dare step out of line, to break the ancient rules of the ritual, even as his final beast has been drained, its life given up to further the draconic race, the animal left where it was, body undesecrated. It is now, now that the dust-covered bronze turns his gaze to Ankhepith and Ankhepith alone, faceted eyes settled, waiting for her next sign, her next call. He will rise to the challenge, he will take part in her ritual, and he will escort her through the hunt of the skies. Body poised, wings spread, he remains low to the ground - crouching, alert, like a hound waiting for the trumpet.
K'ael isn't feeling very sympathetic towards the weyrsecond. Not that he ever does. He wasn't sure exactly what had happened between him and Leslyn, but he thought he'd caught rumors of it involving Leslyn's mother. And that was more than enough information for him. He blinks as F'yr hisses at him though. "Wha? What did I do?" He talked to Aryll, probably. The weyrleader can't do much but sigh, though. He's not brought his little flask of escape. "Anyone got a drink?" He grumbles a bit.
Leslyn's finger does wag at last. "You… you need to leave. Now. Leave now. Leaving is good. We…." There's a visible forcing of thought in the right direction, of trying to make sense of everything. "We all should just leave. Leaving is good." A nod, "Leaving… leaving now." She gets to her feet, trying to choose a direction that's not going to involve going near people. As a flurry of wings suddenly goes up from the pens she turns and bolts for the waterfall.
((OOC - everyone type 'waterfall' and we can go lurk in the cave out of everyone's way. Don't want to clutter up the beach with dead bod… um… people.))
Ankhepith> Ankhepith lashes out, drawing her talons down the back of one beast, but leaving it very much alive - though slightly annoyed and definitely in pain. Blood has been taken, on the beach blood has been given. Now the the ceremony will truly begin. With a flick her wings are extended fully, her cry of challenge echoing around the bowl as she launches skywards, turning to head out over the sea. Let all who may follow show their worth, only one will be accepted.
Ista Weyr - Waterfall
A narrow cave is formed here in the rock, a curtain of water spraying down from the edge of the plateau in heavy stacato to drain into a stream that ripples down the beach to the sea. Mist surrounds everything— the cave is cool and dank, moss growing from the floor, about the damp walls, the sound of rushing water filling every corner - and echoing deep within, as if a passage led further into the gloom. Even so, it is peaceful within this cave, naturally, the water - and the occasional shivering echo from deeper within a gap in the wall - the only sounds that break the monotony.
nkhepith> Odryth finally makes it to the grounds and he is nearly too late only to pounce quickly on a herdbeast, though he barely has a chance to blood before the queen has decided to rise. The beast falls from his fangs with a thump to the ground before his thigh muscles bunch up to launch him into the air. Not a good start for the youngin.
Ankhepith> Uluameth bolts for the sky, pounding for all the altitude he can get. Uluameth has never had much in the way of athleticism, so the bronze struggles his way to the higher altitude of the chasing area, opens his wings wide and soars over the chasers and queen Ankhepith, watching for his opportunity to strike.
"Ah need ta leave, huh? Why's that, Les, why's that?" L'ton just isn't going to give it up, even as he's stalking along behind Leslyn, only a step or two back, talking loud enough for Leslyn to hear, though his words are probably too soft for most of the others there to pick up on. "Ya are afraid, aren't ya? That yer gonna find out that ya were horribly wrong all along, and maybe Ah ain't so bad." His lip has stopped bleeding, at least for now, but its clearly swelling, and his jawline is starting to turn a rather unappealing shade of purple. As she suddenly bolts, he stops long enough to glance towards the pens before his own pace is doubled and he's running towards the 'falls after her. He will *not* leave, not now. "Yer ta late, Leslyn!" He calls out after her, even as he's laughing to himself.
Ankhepith> Zaruath sacrifices beasts for his own pleasure, though he could pretend it was for the mighty queen as well. He leaves two mortally wounded herdbeasts in his wake, having only taken blood from one of them and pounced off the other in his rush to get skywards. His wings catch a thermal almost immediately, helping him rise up and over the pens after the gold and giving him a bit of a push that he can't get from being a full sized bronze like his competition.
Ankhepith> Inimeth fells yet another beast, draining the carcass dry as Ankhepith continues to slash her way through the herd. Bright violet now, his eyes lift to take in the sight of her, his own mind an excited whirl of lavender and green, though the latter has gone rusty-edged and metallic-smelling. That cry sends the bronze shooting upwards, his leap into the air eager, but smooth. He takes in the line that Ankhepith makes in the sky, admiration seeping into his thoughts to blend with determination to see it all through to the end, even as he tracks the gleaming gold through noon's skies.
"You did nothing," F'yr answers K'ael with a growl. Which seemed to be enough to anger the brownrider. She makes a face at the mention of drinks, wrapping her arms around herself and taking a few steps away, gently bumping into Dels. She looks up to the other bronzer surprised to find him there, quickly turning back to the main event. Which was Leslyn, of course. She doesn't hesitate in following after her when she bolts, happy to seek the seclusion behind the falls herself.
Ly'am looks upon the scene, well ain't this a mighty brawl just waiting to happen. Nope, do not want any part of this. With visable effort he starts back to his clothing only to stumble as Odryth takes to the pens, "Sharding dragon is gonna be the death of me today…" He mutters but yet he turns around to follow the others, though trying to stay some few steps behind. Hopefully these people don't know him well enough to hate him yet! He has got such a pretty face he would hate to have it bruised.
Ankhepith> Dhonzayth trumpets loudly as Ankhepith lashes out, maiming the beast, and causing the hopeful acolyte to croon a bit. And yet, as the beast becomes the final sacrifice, its blood dripping to the cold, dry ground below it, its cries of pain filling the pens, Dhonzayth can pay it no more heed. For now is the moment, now is the time - the ritual has begun, and he will participate. His lifemate's adrenyline only augments his own, as dust-covered wings of brassy bronze take that first all important downstroke, limbs gathering up beneath him to launch him skywards. The second portion of the all important hunt has begun, and only one will be deemed worthy by the goddess. Eager to finally join her, Dhonzayth turns shorewards, the sacrifices of the herdbeasts feeding him, as he moves to make a sacrfice of his own.
Ankhepith> Azaeth has left a bit of a trail of drained beasts in his wake. He's not as eager as Dhon is to remain right at her side, content to be simply in her line of sight. Once she's airborne, the last mangled mess of beast is dropped from his muzzle, and his own spectacular wings unfurl, their irony spokes pointing out at all the other challengers for a brief moment. Then finally with a leap, he's airborne himself with a deep bugle to try and match her own. Even thunder and steel can fly, at least they could for a treasure such as Ankhepith. The other chasers are forgot for now, as he focuses his energy into rising up after the queen.
M'ori snaps at L'ton. "Why doncha keep yer mouth /shut/?" He snaps. Then he mimicks L'ton's accent. "Ahm sure that you don't want another bruise to the jaw." He goes back to normal. "Keep your yapper shut and focus on the chase!" he tells the weyrsecond. "Don't /get/ her riled up!" The ordinarily calm bronzerider gets agitated, and when Leslyn bolts so does he, following the junior Weyrwoman to the waterfall and glaring at it a second.
Leslyn is quick, slipping behind the curtain of water and into a relatively safe haven. Relatively safe until now, that is. Sadly almost every Istan has discovered this place at some time, so as hiding places go it's not really best. As a getting away from other riders place it frankly sucks. As soon as she's inside she seeks out a big boulder, though not for throwing it's a much smaller rock she picks up for that purpose. "All of you. Over there." She waves the rock towards the wall opposite hers. "Nobody moves till I say." She's visibly shaking by now, trying to keep control over everything - and sadly that's a trick that's always doomed to failure.
Ankhepith> Ankhepith soars seawards, playing the wind at its own game and dancing through the gusts that are so much stronger here than on the ground. Angling upwards she turns a lazy spiral, weaving some sort of pattern in the sky before shooting off to the south. An odd noise from her throat heralds a change in direction, a brief dart left before once more finding her path.
K'ael sighs at F'yr. There wasn't much he could do now, he'd need to talk to Aryll in private. He's thankful when Leslyn goes running off, at least the exercise will keep his mind at ease, even if it is quite a short run. Once he's inside the cove he just furrows his brow at L'ton. "You /want/ another punch? Shards, L'ton." He doesn't bother arguing with Leslyn, just finds a spot where hopefully no one will come over and touch him.
Ankhepith> Odryth launches himself into the air after the gold, his bronze wingsails drawing heavily against the air. He will be at a disadvantage here, only half a meal, but he is strong and young, the smallest bronze in the flight though he hopes that will give him the maneuverability he will need to win this race. To her challenge he calls out his own, buggling a bass trumpet into the skies. I am here, you will be mine, all others move out of my way!
Ankhepith> Uluameth follows Ankhepith out to sea, he follows her pattern at a distance. Much higher up, his shadow falls over the sunlit seas as he soars. When she turns, so does he, when she drops so will he, when she rises so will he. In this way the bronze keeps himself on her tail and in the chase and conserves his strength for the final lunge.
D'son looks down at F'yr with a faint smile as she bumps into him and he takes a step back to give her space, then blinks as Leslyn goes running off. "Shoot …" he mutters under his breath, looks back to where his stuff is still on the beach. Before heading for the falls, he retreats to take the basket and bucket and stow them under the boat, then he jogs after everyone else, shirt-tails flapping in the breeze, bare feet leaving footprints in the sand until he ducks away out of sight.
As he follows in the crazy Istanites, Ly'am looks around the cave with a gaze of someone first seeing something wonderous, but that wonder is short lived as there are orders being tossed about and rocks being picked up. His eyes go rather wide and he holds his hands up in a defensive gesture, "I ain't meaning no harm miss…"
"Shove it, both of ya." L'ton's words to the other bronzeriders who dare offer any sort of observation of his plight are terse and almost angry, even as he's rounding on M'ori. "Besides, Ah happen ta like my women riled up. Just cause *ya* ain't enough of a man ta handle them, ain't my fault." A smirk crosses his face, though its effectiveness is rather diminished by his swollen lip, and the other bronze and brownriders are quickly forgotten, even as he's creeping closer and closer to Leslyn. Apparently the rock in her hand holds no threat to L'ton - who has had many things thrown at her by this very weyrwoman - for he's considerably closer than is probably safe. "Ah know as well as ya do Leslyn, that ya couldn't hit any of us with that if'n ya weren't shaking more than Honshu during an earthshake."
Ankhepith> Zaruath doesn't remain too far behind the pack, fighting at the wings and the currents that push against his sails to climb higher and higher and hopefully over much of the obstacles. His eyes never leave the queen, watching her up ahead but deciding to keep to a straight direct path, hoping to race out the other more eager males. This brown had high hopes, and wasn't looking too shabby at it just yet. The blood running through his muscles pump hotly, keeping him at pace with the other competitors.
Ankhepith> Inimeth slips through air currents nimbly, enjoying the feeling of the stronger winds, though there's some risk in playing this game when they gust so. Her path is upwards and so must his be, wings working those currents like the sails of a great ship to lift him up after Ankhepith. Her weaving is observed with keen interest, the young bronze taking it in and echoing a piece of it in the to and fro he makes across his little patch of sky. That sudden change in direction the odd sound are echoed by a warble from Inimeth, as clear and bright as his hide, and a pull to the left. He steers onward, course as sure as he can make it in her wake.
M'ori enters the cave hesitantly, and when Leslyn tells him to stay away he backs off. L'ton has him snarling and clenching his fists. "ENOUGH OF A MAN???? You pig! Aside from flights my Coselia is all I need. At LEAST I'm a civilized man, unlike you rutting hound dog who thinks with his…… GONADS!!" He snarls, trying very hard to keep from following Leslyn's example.
Ankhepith> Azaeth moves towards the sea with the rest of the pack. The wind up here only viewed as a deterrence at this point. Obstacles on the battlefield. The bronze works through them, and is able to spiral lazily enough with her as she changes direction. Slow, but hard strokes of his wings make sure that he keeps up with the surrounding chasers, giving Ankhepith a trumpet in encouragement as they move off towards her.
Ankhepith> Dhonzayth fights the wind, as nature dares to intervene in this sacred hunt, dares to interfere even as nature is the driving force behind each and every one of the dragons that has risen to Ankhepith's challenge. Fleeing out over the water, the bronze is finally turning the wind to his advantage, darting this way and that, using the powers of the sky to aid him in his chase. While Ankhepith's spiral is lazy, Dhonzayth's is anything but, and its without hesitation that he's settling into her new path, letting the huntess guide the pack through the windy terrain of the sky. As the winds whip to and fro, the brassy bronze is quickly losing his cloak of disguise, his true identity revealed over time as the dust is scoured from his hide, leaving the brassy bronze beneath oh so visible.
F'yr hesitates towards the goldrider at the sight of the stone, looking like she wanted to try her luck. Hey, at least she wasn't one of the bronzers she didn't like! But the brownrider huffs and falls back towards the wall, leaning her weight against it and dropping her head to her hands instead. Rubbing at her temples she tries not to look up at anyone else, though there's a snarl towards M'ori. "Oh, shut your sharding mouth."
"Don't… push it Ton." Leslyn is fighting against everything now. "You." A hand is waved at Ly'am. "Who are you? Never mind. They're… your problem." Every pause allows her to take a deep breath, and she backs up till she's against the wall behind her boulder. Out of nowhere she mutters, "We must be ready." and for a moment her grip on the rock wavers.
Ankhepith> Ankhepith swirls once more, echoing the wind as it moves over a tiny island below them. Without warning she appears to stop mid-air, sitting up on her tail for a brief second before shooting away to the West. The heated blood from the beasts is boiling in her stomach, all manner of images and ideas flicking through her head, but above all there is one overlying thought — up. We must be ready.
K'ael peers at L'ton. "You want another punch, be my guest. I wouldn't push her with that rock though. She don't need to throw it to do the damage." He peers at M'ori. "Calm down, rider." He moves back a bit from M'ori, just enough to bump into F'yr with a blink. There's no apology. Just a grunt.
L'ton has tuned out M'ori at this point, as the flight overhead has heated up, and the wind has forced L'ton to lend his strength to Dhonzayth. Even as Leslyn's words slowly filter into his thoughts, he's looking up at the goldrider, slowly taking a step forward, though its only to grasp at the boulder on which she is perched, taking strength from the earth. Nothing matters, anymore, nothing but the brassy bronze and his overhead pursuit.
Ankhepith> Uluameth turns with Ankhepith, mirroring the powerful queen's swirl through the sky. He hovers when she stops, is that it, is this the time? But then she shoots away again and Uluameth pounds the air, following her as closely as the bronze dares, he zigs, he zags, he whirls and catches a very nice following breeze that gets him about equal speed with the queen. He keeps her in his sights, as well as the other males, wary of the competitors behind and beneath him lest they obscure a straight down plunge after Ankhepith.
Ly'am just freezes in place as Leslyn looks at him hands still raised as if he was being held up, "Ly…" He starts before he is cut off again, green eyes just blinking at her before backing up blindly to get away from the crazy Istanites..surely he can find somewhere else to hide from this flight…oh but Odryth needs him. He backs into the knot of Istans, the Weyrleader and the feisty brown and jumps around with a start.
D'son is keeping a low profile and sticking close to F'yr, back pressed to the wall as the flight really gets into gear and his attention and control are starting to fracture too. He shoots a look over towards K'ael and L'ton and Leslyn and swallows hard. "Would everyone calm down /please/," he suddenly blurts out. "This is hard enough without everyone trying to kill everyone else."
M'ori turns his back to L'ton at K'ael's urge to calm down, and the bronze rider does as he's told. His eyes glaze over as they focus on Uluameth's progress above. He humms faintly, trying to tune the outside world out with a mutter a line from an old love song about 'ain't nuthin but a hound dog.'
Ankhepith> Odryth whirls up higher into the sky to catch up to the queen as she goes higher and further away. To the bronze so near him he extends his neck and snaps, issueing a snarl to his competitor before he against lets his wings surge against the wind to carry him closer and closer to the prize. Surely this one will be his, he has bedded a green, but this is what he has hoped for..such a lovely gold as this.
Ankhepith> Zaruath's wings give an unsteady lurch and he drops, just a bit, but it was enough to make him anger and roar out in frustration. His strange fixation on the gold wasn't going to wear off that easily, and he pushes forward more strongly. Starting to strain his wings he catches up to some in the back of the pack, snapping angrily at tails, veering after the queen. Always making sure to keep her in his line of sight, even if he wasn't quite managing like most of the others.
Ankhepith> Azaeth seems to lose focus just for a second. Instead of flying forward, the gold suddenly stops, which causes the gargantuan bronze to stop. He wasn't moving for anyone, so the poor dragons behind him might suddenly find themselves within tail whipping distance. When Ankhepith moves off to the west, he's keen to chase after her. Now was the time to close the gap, and with complete disregard to any of the smaller chasers (which of course, were all the chasers) he moves after her with a sudden spurt of energy.
Ankhepith> Inimeth has gotten the hang of that wind now and he lets it stream over him, lift him through the sky, his course charted for Ankhepith. That little island down below catches their shadows briefly but only briefly as dragons fly fast by. Her hesitation is not echoed, the burnished bronze taking a chance to gain a little. This means making rather a sharp turn though when she changes paths, heading for where the sun will sink into the ocean many hours from now. His own mind is extended, open, whispers of agreement with that one thought. Ready for it all. Ready for the moment to come. Unfurling deep within his thoughts is an offer, to be there, to be ready when she is.
Ankhepith> Dhonzayth pays no attention to the island far below, nor to the other males, attention only on the golden icon that leads them all. The brassy bronze continues to pull his strength from the air, letting the wind bouy him up as he conserves his strength, even as the earth is lending its help to his lifemate far below under the waterfall. While Ankhepith seems to stop, Dhonzayth trumpets loudly, a warning, as he remains in the strong winds, flying for her - as she starts off the the west, collison is avoided, but now he's left to recompensate. Its a moment before he's able to lift himself from the strong stream, large winds fighting hard, burning precious energy to do just that, before he's finally turning westward, chasing once more after the golden lure of Ankhepith. The blood of the beasts continues to serve Dhonzayth well, their sacrifice worthwhile, as he seeks to serve a new master in the gold.
F'yr's anger towards M'ori is short lived, though the mood doesn't leave her at all. Instead, it's only beginning to boil, her shoulders tense as her lifemate starts having troubles up above in the skies. She snarls at K'ael and his bump, instinctively her fisted hand swinging around to him, though not quite near his face as she was much shorter. "Move it, you, 'fore /I/ hit you with something myself," she says towards Ly'am now, eyes narrowed. "And don't tell us to calm down," she snaps towards D'son. This brownrider's feathers were ruffled up.
Leslyn aims a kick at L'ton, but it's rather halfhearted as she's more intent on edging away from him. Her gaze flicks immediately to D'son as he speaks, and there's a look that could be gratitude that flickers there for just a second before the flight finally consumes her. She stops, hands held out in front of her, rock still in one of them. her gaze fixes on the waterfall, but she's not seeing water. All that's there is sky and a group of male dragons she's heading straight towards. ((OOC - Okay, here we go. Catch poses please while I flail over picking a winner))
Ankhepith> Ankhepith climbs once more - there's no more time for acrobatics, for dancing with the wind. Now is the moment. Now one will be found worthy. Without glancing back she flips over, arrowing straight for the pack of males. One last challenge is called before she reaches them — Who dares to tame her now?
D'son clears his throat a couple of times, sweating liberally and lifts a hand to swipe the stuff off his forehead. "Not you, Fy," he mumbles an apology before his words cut off and he lets out a low whimper and pushes back against the wall again, breathless as Inimeth re-doubles his efforts above and Dels is carried along with him.
K'ael moves his head out of the way of F'yr's flying fist of fury. He's been punched enough recently, thank you. He tries to grab at her fist with a growl. "Keep your hands to yourself, or you'll end up with a punch as well." Channeling Azaeth much, K'ael? Perhaps. The bronzer seems to forget that F'yr is only equal to half a K'ael in size. And that a punch to her might do some serious damage. The bronzer is having a little trouble keeping control without some booze in is system, it seems.
Ankhepith> Uluameth pours on the speed. There is a time for action and that time is NOW! His tail whips the air, his wings lash the wind for speed. He folds his midnight rusted bronze sails to his back and plunges like a stone after Ankhepith. His front talons out, neck and tail poised to snare the queen the instant he's in range!
L'ton doesn't actually dodge the kick, Leslyn's half-hearted motion catching him in the arm as the Weyrsecond just stares blankly at the boulder infront of him, eventually lifting his gaze to look at Leslyn, perched there, hands outstretched. Slowly, slowly one hand is reaching out towards her, even as he's beginning to climb the boulder, inching ever closer at a snail's pace, as the culmination of the flight is unfolding overhead.
M'ori whirls, hand stretching out towards the waterfall in invitation. His eyes focusing on nothing but the air above the Weyr where Uluameth plunges boldly headlong towards the water. He doesn't hear L'ton anymore, he doesn't hear K'ael and is only vaguely aware of Leslyn in the cave with him. His face looks up to the cieling of the cave, squinting to try and close the distance between him and his lifemate.
Ankhepith> Inimeth finds another fast current to sink into, making use of relative bulk to keep control and not get battered to bits by surges of this airy 'ocean'. Surprise! Ankhepith just flipped around and is coming straight for the pack. A glint of appreciation for the tactic gleams in Inimeth's eyes and there's a push of his tail, using it like a rudder to angle his ascent as wings cup the wind to carry him high on an intercept course. It's stormy seas, so to speak, battling the wind like that, but his thoughts are bent on Ankhepith as he rises, as if to confirm that earlier claim to readiness. His voice sounds once more too, clear as a bell, a ringing thing to announce his presence as he sails on for the gold, everything in him reaching for her, laid out for her, for her choice.
F'yr's fist is caught! Which only seems to anger her more since her attack didn't connect. "You wouldn't be able to hit me even if I was in front of you," she growls out. Wasn't she in front of him? Technically. That doesn't stop her from tossing a dragon-induced angry glare towards D'son at the mention of her name before turning her body around to aim her other fist towards K'ael. She had two hands, afterall, though it was probably more of the frustration from her lifemate that was encouraging her.
Ankhepith> Azaeth emits a rather loud growl as someone brushes his wing. There's a brief snap at one of the other chasers, which is quickly cut off by the sight of the gold turning back in towards them. There was only this one chance now to claim victory at the end of the battle. He makes a push to make sure he's at the front of the black, and large back claws stretch out towards the gold as she flies in towards them. Just a little further now, and he'll try to pluck her from the sky!
Ankhepith> Dhonzayth climbs after Ankhepith, doing what he can to regain ground, though its not to the front of the pack that he is able to reach. Brassy wings fight the winds, fight the others, fight the exhaustion that is beginning to appear, the blood of the beasts beginning to fail as the ritual comes to a peak. As the gold flips over, heading back, she is met with a loud trumpet, a welcoming call, as Dhonzayth attempts to greet the coming of the golden goddess with open wings. As she nears, he's stretching out talons, stretching out serpentine neck, serpentine tail, as he attempts to give himself over to her glory. There is no taming, only the union of a goddess and an acolyte, and it is Dhonzayth that hopes to be tamed by her, taught of the hunt, and taught of the very wonders that the winds hold for them both.
Ankhepith> Zaruath dips between two of the back chasers, clearly not willing to give up at all. The brown struggles with his wings, fighting against the winks as he lifts himself up and up, after the queen, after his prey. And while she challenges them, he answers with a bugle of his own way back. As far as she was, he was still going to try to put a last effort into reaching out. Maybe he'll be able to rake his talons through the wings of some of the other bronzes instead of the queen, which will satisfy him a little.
K'ael has a good grip on F'yr's little fist. "I could beat you into a pulp right now! Don't you press me!" As she goes in for another punch, the bronzer uses her fist and arm to push her back out of the way. The second punch come up short by just a little, and K'ael is spared a second punch. "You don't even belong here!" Okay, now the bronzer just sounds angry. For a moment he looks to poor Ly'am, with a glare that makes him look like he wants to take the young bronzer and toss him like a bowling ball at the other chasers.
Ankhepith> Odryth surges against the wind, riding on the trail that leads to the gold. He will win her, this one shall be his. That is he is sure of. Then suddenly she stops and changes direction and he faulters, hissing to the bronzes around him in frustration. He gets a surger of energy from the fear of loosing the flight, the anger that some other may take his prize away from him so his wingsails beat fervently to make up for the loss, bumping one of the bronzes out of the way in the heat of the moment.
D'son cracks open an eye and the room sort of slides sideways. "Ugh," he groans out and then stupidly tries to flail an arm around F'yr's waist. "C'mon, Fy … leave it," he says unsteadily. "Mike … cut it out. Nobody's beating anybody up because … because …" and there goes his focus again as Inimeth makes his play for Ankhepith. "Oh Faranth …" he breathes out.
Ly'am looks to the fighting pair he has bumped into, again frozen in place that he may end up getting injured in a full on fracas that is bound to happen here. Then K'ael is pushing the girl down and well that does spur something in his own self, that competition and male protectiveness and he reaches a hand to the taller and no doubt stronger Weyrleader, "You shouldn't be treating girls like that!" He exclaims, well any girl is a focus right now and the other one is hiding behind a boulder.
"Try it!" F'yr, of course, has to have the last word. "And I won't," she grumbles at D'son, shaking at his arm around her waist. Second punch goes… wrong! The momentum makes her stumbles in her hazy contact between herself and her dragon, and the Weyrleader's push doesn't help at all as she meets the ground. It's only brief, as she's back on her feet, ready to stomp on K'ael's feet even as Ly'am comes in to her rescue. Wait, were those Fy teeth?
M'ori edges further and further away from F'yr and K'ael and Ly'am and closer to Leslyn, clearly unnerved at the fighting between Weyrleader and brownrider. The bronzerider growls, shifting irritably from foot to foot while Uluameth dives after Ankhepith with talons and wing outstretched.
Oop, Ly'am touched the weyrleader. He probably shouldn't have done that. The bronzer without even thinking shoves him off and gives a swing at him with a left hook. His fists still clenched, he snaps back to F'yr. Just in time for her to stomp on his sandaled feet. "OW! You little wherry-licker!" He first tries to kick her, then makes a grab for the little blonde's shirt.
When Leslyn spoke earlier about bad luck, she really wasn't wrong. Her luck couldn't get worse. Her rock should be, by rights, being thrown at L'ton. Not dropped in front of him instead. Maybe he'll get his own back in other ways.
Ankhepith> Ankhepith screeches as a talon catches her wings instead of her. Rolling away from a flailing foot she blunders into a bronzen body, her own legs flailing now in an attempt to get away from a catch that was not entirely her decision. Determination pays off eventually, though this will be one clutch that will guarantee drama. Though she fights for a time eventually instinct wins and her tail twines with Dhonzayth's. Bronze and gold. Queen and acolyte. Puncher and punchee. Oh dear, disaster for Ista.
Choice made up above and as Inimeth swoops by beneath the now twining pair, D'son snaps back a little, reeling. He takes a breath and then wades forward into the fray. "ENOUGH!" he says loudly, hauling out his best wingleader voice and reaches out to step between F'yr and Ly'am now. "Come on, everyone OUT!"
Ankhepith> Uluameth shrills in disappointment, opening his wings and gliding fast and low back towards the beach.
Ankhepith> Inimeth reaches, reaches and… whoops, ducks beneath that newly twining pair and peels off hard aiming for the beach.
M'ori backs away from Leslyn now, turns around and runs to try and escape the insanity of the fighting Weyrleader, young bronzer and young brownrider. "You guys are all nuts!" He exclaims as he disappears. "Ulu wait for me!"
And the punch certainly connects. Really Ly'am should have expected it, but well he couldn't just stand by and watch the girl get picked on. Well perhaps she was picking on the WL, but he didn't see it that way. The punch well…it does flatten the lad and down he goes onto the damp stone of the cave.
Ankhepith> Zaruath is just too far, too… well, brown. But that doesn't make him stop from screaming out in frustration at his loss, snapping his teeth at those falling away before he himself turns back around to glide towards the shore before his wings give out from too much strain.
Ankhepith> Dhonzayth nearly drops down, as the talon snags the goddess's wing, but then, her tail is twining with his, and then their necks are twining, and the brassy bronze and the golden goddess are left to soar through the sky, lessons learned. A disaster *indeed*.
Ankhepith> Azaeth watches as Ankhepith sails under him, and turns just in time to get a right nasty gash from his brother on his side before floating off.
L'ton won't complain about his luck, not right now. Not as the rock is dropping from Leslyn's hand, and he's moving to pull her down from the boulder into a needing embrace even as their lifemates join in an embrace of their own, far above. Split lip is forgotten, as are any threats that have been leveled - for now, none of it matters.
"Ya deserved it!" F'yr crows victoriously, only to hiss in pain when his own foot connects and one of her legs buckles but she doesn't fall completely. She groans just as her lifemate fails at catching, obviously, and starts on his return home. She grabs onto K'ael's hand that hold her shirt, glaring up at him stubbornly.
K'ael ignores D'son completely. At least he doesn't get a punch, so Mike must still be lurking around someplace in there. When F'yr grabs hold of him he just… stares at her for a moment. Then at D'son's insistence… drag her back out to the beach. And possibly other places.
D'son pushes hands through his hair and looks around to make sure no one /else/ is fighting and then tags after the Weyrleader and F'yr, face just a little stormy.
Ly'am is out cold for a moment before eyes flutter open and he looks up to find the cave empty save for the original duelers. He blinks once …then twice…before scurrying up to his feet, rubbing at his jaw with one hand and holding up a defensive hand with the other, "You lot are crazy…I am getting outta here…"
Leslyn hasn't completely lost control of her senses, just… mostly. There's still some fight in the goldrider yet, and while this coupling may well be willing it will not be free from pain. As he's pulling her down, she's ripping at his shirt and not caring if it digs in. In a move that she would probably deny if it were ever brought up she slides a hand into his hair, clenching her fist as she pulls him in for a long kiss. Anger mixed with lust is not a recipe for a comfortable night.
L'ton is smug as can be, even as he's reveling in Dhonzayth's win, too caught up in his lifemate's experience to notice as nails dig into him, his shirt tugged off even as hers is roughly pulled at as well, arms wrapping around her, kissing her deeply. Its particularly worse with both halfs have built up anger and frustration - but, she's already split his lip, what could be worse?