Isanath's Flight

Ista Weyr - Forest
The softest of breezes blows through here, causing the already humid air to grow thick and hot. The noises of the forest are all around, a hundred differing scents wafting slowly through dense stands of saplings and older, more established trees. Animal paths lead to and fro, winding and twisting beneath low branches and shrubs. Vines as thick as a man's arm climb skyward, tangling right to the top of the tropical canopy. Little light manages to shine down to the forest floor, but that doesn't stop a luscious undergrowth from carpeting the ground. Insects of every discription crawl and buzz about their business, likely hoping the avians whose calls echo through during daylight hours don't decide to make them lunch. If one looks carefully, it's possible to see the trail leading into a pruned back stand of shrubbery to the west that conceals a dark and forboding opening in the ground. Parts of it have been excavated, but work is clearly ongoing. Other gaps in the greenery lead deeper into the Istan jungle, while the barest sounds of the surf can be heard from the north.


A clear afternoon on the island of Ista brings with it a faint breeze from the water, a luscious smell from the gardens, and a goldrider with her sleeves rolled up poking around at the base of trees looking for… something. The other half of the pairing appears to be lounging on the beach enjoying the sun, eyes lidded, wings spread for maximum sun exposure.

While S'u has clearly had better days, it seems that Tzettenvonth has rather enjoyed the "rest" he has gotten while his partner has been stuck in the mines, being all important and liaison-y. Because while S'u is wandering into the woods from the direction of the mine - though this time looking rather too clean to have been doing any actual work - Tzet is perched on a ledge overhead, bronze hide smooth and shining from a long day already in the sun. Also in contrast are S'u's sagging, tired shoulders, and the almost eager way that Tzettenvonth is actively watching - not anything in particular, necessarily, but… everything at the same time.

With a loud "Hah!" of success, Aliona suddenly stands upright, takes a step back away from the tree she was harassing, and falls flat on her backside as her foot slides on some loose dirt. In her hand, clutched tightly as she falls, is a stick. Nothing more, nothing less, just a stick. Where normally a stream of curses would follow such a crash instead comes laughter, bright and happy. "One down, one to go."

The loud sound of a voice draws S'u out of his dragging distraction, and he's glancing over towards the source. And then a very familiar young woman is tumbling backwards and he's practically bolting towards her, getting energy from somewhere despite his worn-down appearance. "Ali!" He quickly spurts out, his inquiries cut off as the laughter erupts instead of cursing. "Ali?" He offers again, questioning this time, eyes resting on the stick in her hand. "Uh.." He trails off, blankly.

"Hi!" Aliona waves up at S'u from her place on the ground, "Give me a hand?" One hand waves at him, but it's the one with the stick and that just causes a brief explosion of laughter. "This ain't what it looks like."

A hand is quickly offers as she asks, blinking for a moment as she is laughing again, and then the other hand is held out instead, reaching for her free one. "So, I don't have to worry about you beating with me with a dirty stick tonight? I mean, if that's what you're in to today, maybe we could.." And he blushes even as he tries to tease her, bracing himself to pull her up.

A clear afternoon on the island of Ista brings with it a faint breeze from the water, a luscious smell from the gardens, and a goldrider sprawled on her back at the treeline waving a stick in the air and laughing up at S'u. The other half of the pairing appears to be lounging on the beach enjoying the sun, eyes lidded, wings spread for maximum sun exposure.

Aliona shakes her head, "Only thing I'm gonna be beatin' is Izzy at stick races. Need t'find another one, a good'n. This is okay, but too…." Her hands wiggle as she searches for a word, eventually settling on, "Twiggy."

"Twiggy?" S'u laughs with a shake of his head as he gets her to her feet. "Shouldn't she pick out her own? So she doesn't decide you cheated and gave her the bad stick?" The bronze rider grins, holding a hand out for the stick to inspect exactly what 'twiggy' means. For his part, he is looking a bit rougher for his time "helping" his dad, while Tzettenvonth is looking much finer for his time - currently perched on a ledge, keeping an active eye out for just what? only he knows.

Ista's skies are briefly darkened by the shadow of a large bronze. Rielth's wings are dappled with the pattern of leaves in varying shades, his hide kissed with multiple metallic colors, and he takes a slow descent, his rider seated easily on his back. At the moment, there's no rush to the ground. Perhaps he doesn't realize it would be prime opportunity to ruin a delightfully romantic moment. Either way, for now he stays aloft, circling slowly.

Another bronze pair from Eastern seems to be simply wandering around Ista, taking a break from the duties back at home. Though I'ro is in the forest, his lifemate isn't. Tiwazth is currently stretched out on the beach, seemingly relaxed but eyes swirling their natural red and speaking of alertness. "I…really need to get out more…" The tired looking bronzer stretches and appears not far from where S'u and Aliona are. His current attire consists of sandals, khaki shorts that are frayed at the ends, and a plain white t-shirt.

Aliona shrugs a little, "She picks her own a' she's gonna be droppin' a whole tree in. An' then I'll get yelled at f'r blockin' the river I'ro!" A new river? No, just a recognised bronzerider that's come into view. "Hi!" Hand and stick are waved towards the Easterner. "You here t'see the mine?" Poor S'u is abandoned as Aliona bounds off to greet the foreigner.

It's not often V'lad is seen out in the forest, although his most recent assignment from T'eo has had him attending all manner of strange events lately. This time, however, the Istan bronzerider appears to be on some other errand, heading through the forest from the direction of the orchards, though he's not carrying anything but a citrus, and a very green one at that. His lifemate, a dark bronze almost a shadow amongst the spires, has found someplace to curl up on the bowl rim beyond the trees. Tzimisceth absently watches the beaches, shifting with an irritable flick of his tail while V'lad frowns mildly at something or other as he goes, not terribly quiet footfalls taking him through some dense vegetation as he cuts across toward the beach, not following the less direct paths.

"Only if it actually -gets- stuck." S'u counters, and then he's shaking his head as "his" gold rider - at least least as close as he is likely to ever get to one - goes bouncing off to pay attention to someone else.. Someone else who at least looks familiar enough for S'u's face to turn into a scowl. A deep breath, and sagging shoulders are lifted and pushed back, the Istan attempting to at least look passable as he follows along after Ali, tilting his head to watch the interaction of the Eastern bronze rider, even as he is slowly folding his arms over his chest, hovering perhaps a bit too close to his friend. You know, just in case.

Finally, the autumn-kissed bronze of Eastern settles to the ground nearby, sunlight glinting off his bright, autumnal coloration and smooth hide as his rider swings sown, tucking long ginger locks back without a thought. He wasn't using straps, a bad role model indeed. He is, however, polite, inclining a bow to Aliona, "Eastern's duties, Weyrwoman." Other than that, though, he won't interrupt her conversation with I'ro, he respects the other bronzer to much to horn in just yet.

Moyrel, the aging Masterharper of Pern (and Weyrsinger of Ista), comes strolling down the foresty path, the stout cane in her left hand thudding against the ground with each step of her right foot, until she comes up to the gathered crowd. "Greetings and salutations," she greets cheerily, and dips a curtsey, and salutes the dragons, shuffling off to the side of the path to make way for the imminent stampede of dragons ready to fly.

"Hey," I'ro grins broadly down at Ali, an eyebrow raising at the stick. "Nice branch, but I'm just here taking a day off…wouldn't mind seeing the mind though. I've heard rumors about it." The bright blue of his eyes fall on S'u then, and the fellow bronzer hearts a faint nod, though there isn't much attention spared for him, or for M'ta despite being more familiar with the latter. The other Easterner gets a dip of the head before I'ro steps back and to the side just the slightest, as if that would allow him to keep a better eye on the entire group.

"Too twiggy." Aliona replies to the branch compliment with a laugh, "Ain't gonna win with this one, but best I found so far. You gotta see the mine, it's… oh Hi!" Another Easterner draws her attention, poor Moyrel being completely ignored in the process simply by way of being the wrong kind of important - today at least.

Down on the beach Isanath stirs, eyes snapping open and a burst of draconic laughter escaping from her. Her tail sweeps a shower of sand towards a nearby brown before she broadcasts «Tag! You're it!» and launches towards the feeding pens.

V'lad almost walks right past Aliona and the other bronzeriders - that must be some intriguing citrusfruit he's got there, really - but the sound of voices has him lifting his head, steps slowing as he makes his way out of the forest nearer the beach. "Masterharper," he does manage a greeting for Moyrel, although a slightly distracted one, perhaps about to say something more when there's Isanath launching toward the feeding pens. That brings his attention back from wherever it had been, or rather, Tzimisceth brings it back, the dark bronze stirring like liquid shadow as he stretches, gaze following the gold's path.

"If you say so.." S'u murmurs softly under his breath, a sigh managing to escape him as Ali's attention then bounces onwards yet again, this time to yet another bronze rider - And with each appearance, it seems that S'u's patience is beginning to wear thin. "I'm sure Laudin will be happy to show him the mine.. when they -aren't- working." He offers a bit more sharply than he intended, immediately looking sorry. And then, it seems that there's a realization flittering through his mind…

For at that moment, the active watching that Tzettenvonth has been doing from the overhead ledge has paid off, for as Isanath is launching herself in a spray of sand, he is following suit, the small rocks that had littered the ledge tumbling downwards, dropping through the foliage below. The frothy, green-toned bronze glides towards the feeding pens, a low rumble escaping from him as he backwings, wings continuing to be spread wide, attempting the same intimidation methods his life mate is trying near the mine.

Moyrel acknowledges any greetings tossed in her direction with a nod knowing that the riders are in an anxious mindset at the moment. She steps farther out of the way, casting glances around about herself, identifying any dragons whom she recognizes.

Strong flanks bring Tiwazth surging upwards, following after Isanath to the pens. Rather than pressing forward however, the bronze remains behind the majority of the group. He begins to circle slowly upon arrival at the feeding grounds, watchful eyes flitting between the males and the gold periodically, sizing up the competition warily in much the same way I'ro is doing below. "Twiggy indeed…" There's a slight smirk for Aliona, but S'u words earn a quick glance in his direction. Rather than budging, I'ro continues to bide his time, silent but muscles singing of alertness.

Isanath's playful challenge turns to a game of 'hop-squash' as soon as she reaches the feeding pens. Hop, hop, Hooooooop, CRACK! The first beast is felled thanks to a broken back as the gold lands squarely on it, the beast's cries of protest quickly silenced as she lowers her head and tears at its throat to drink. The brown she 'tagged' on the beach sidles a little too close and her head lifts, a noise somewhere between a hiss and a childish 'thbbbbt' directed at him.

Aliona's stick seems less and less important as her brain begins to fog-over and her attention moves from one game to something far more serious. Yet for all that there's a burst of laughter than almost seems to take her by surpise and she shakes her head, trying to clear it. "Need… somethin'."

Tzettenvonth, the bronze likely most familiar with the youngest Istan gold, is caught a little off guard as the normally prim and proper gold shows a different side, the bronze delayed for a moment as he stares. But then, that primal urge is kicking in, and his confusion is sidelined for now. Wings are folded as he gives a little hop on a beast - the first to lose the game to the bronze who hopes to be the most interesting - dropping the animal to the ground, and in turn dropping his muzzle to drain it quickly, faceted eyes whirling as they linger on Isanath, not willing to let her have another surprise.

S'u, meanwhile, is beginning to get more and more caught up with his lifemate, reaching absently for the twiggy stick, trying to take it from Ali - though at least he isn't up for brandishing it at I'ro should he happen to get it in his possession. There will be no beatings - yet. "Whatcha need Ali.." He offers softly, stepping closer, protective, hovering, waiting.

Slender brows lifting somewhat, V'lad regards the other bronzeriders, apparently having walked into this one without realizing it. Inclining his head to the gathered folk, almost in afterthought, he'll just quietly suppress a sigh, and find a tree tunk to lean back against, the man still idly turning that citrusfruit in his hands, apparently having now forgotten about it. Tzimisceth, meanwhile, watches Isanath with growing interest, the dark bronze stalking across the ledge he'd been curled on, until he's perched rather precariously on the bowl's rim, body hunched over to eye the gathering bronzes and the blooding gold.

Rielth is smooth and agile, especially for his size, and he darts down, plucking a beast and latching his strong yet gracile jaws onto its neck and sucking it dry, but his eyes never leave Isanath. As he lifts his bloodstained maw, he emits a melodic croon, smooth yet also challenging. He has his eyes on the prize. He doesn't bother to go for a second beast, instead crouching and watching, waiting for that moment to burst skyward.

M'ta, for his own part, seems to slip into his dragon's mind almost immediately. It's not that he's not aware of his surroundings, but he's significantly less interactive than most riders. No words, just looks and watching, imitating his dragon's mood.

Tiwazth finally finds a beast to his choosing and his hide ripples, like wind-blown fur, as he lands upon a beast and neatly snaps its neck. The bronze dips his head, beginning to partake of the creature but allowing the continuous swirl of his red gaze to remain on the glowing Isanath. There are no games from this one, in fact…the bronze is boring compared to most. Still, there is time.

I'ro is much like Tiwazth, hanging away from the group to wait and watch, his eyes more that of a predator's than anything else. A slow smile comes to his face as he glances to the other bronzer's, a challenge in his expression.

Isanath dives for a second beast, this one being dispatched without much care or toying and drained swiftly. The third she kills, however, suffers the worst fate of all. Her foot lashes out, slicing into it and bringing it to ground. This third she toys with, digging inside, extracting something squishy and best left undescribed. This… glob… of meat she bats at a fwe times before giving it a hefty swipe that sends it tumbling over and over towards the edge of the pen. This appears to be a distraction technique however as she crouches almost immediately and throws herself skywards leaving an echo of laughter far behind her.

"Huh?" Aliona blinks at S'u. Then I'ro. M'ta. V'lad…. "Oh. Um." Think, Ali. She has to force her way through the fog in her head, "It's time." She moves now, aiming to get further into the forest, pausing only to crook a finger at the gathered men.

Rielth's eyes follow her, follow her, then dart over after the meat glob, momentarily distracted, but after her a moment later, strong wings carrying his lithe form up into the sky. He tucks his legs in, streamlining himself as much as he can to make up for the lost time. And has he starts after her, he croons another one of those sweeping, melodic croons, trying to woo her as he can, and it's accompanied by the soft touch of his mind: a hint of guitar, the crisp smell of an autumn breeze, and the smooth taste of the bourbon his rider loves so much.
M'ta stumbles after Aliona, aware enough to not get himself killed, but that's about it. Still, it's time to imitate the flight above and he's ready to do it.

-That- was definitely unladylike! There's a loud, surprised trumpet from Tzettenvonth, the bronze having surfaced from his second beast - the sound both a shocked response to the gold's disgusting technique and a challenge to the other males as he moves to be the first one aloft. Fly, Isa, fly! Tzettenvonth is hot on her heels, each strong beat of green-tinged wings carrying him ever upwards, into the sky, towards the heaven's gate - merely a pawn in the game - for now. The other males are ignored for now - as they too are merely pawns - the Istan hoping to put his length to his advantage.

S'u hesitates for only a moment before he's hurrying up to chase after Ali, mimicking his life mate over head, not about to let this half get out of his sight - especially with all these foreigners around. Time to see if he can prove to his dad he's not worthless.

Tiwazth takes down his second beast, but the bronzed ors nothing more than break its bone. His tail sways to the side in deceptively lazy movements, yet his mind is alert. Attention never once shifts from Isanath and he is not far behind her journey into the clouds. The soft rustle of wings is the only sound from this dragons mind, no voice, no smell..simply darkness. Rather than wooing, Tiwazth's dance in the sky is a show of skill and strength. Each muscle moves in perfectly oiled harmony, his wings beating powerfully in an attempt to outshine the others.

I'ro plays the same game as his lifemate, moving forward after Isanath while keeping an eye on the bronzer's about. There's no mistaking the heat of competition in those glazed blue eyes.

V'lad's gaze travels from one bronzerider to another, watching them almost as intently as his dragon watches the blooding gold, night-black eyes meeting any looks cast his way, though it is on Aliona his attention finally settles. And focuses, the man moving only to follow her, though slowly, half his mind with the dark dragon that hunkers down on the bowl rim and eyes Isanath so intently. The toyed-with piece of meat is less distraction than what the gold is doing to that last beast, for Tzimisceth rumbles with what might be appreciation for the way the gold plays with that thing. And when she throws herself skywards, it was all the bronze had been waiting for, gathering himself and launching off the ledge in one liquid movement, wings catching the air to speed upward.

Isanath turns in a lazy barrel roll, giving just a flick of her carrotty tail as she taunts « Can't catch meeee! » and darts off suddenly eastwards. Ginger wings carry her higher and higher as she goes - away from the weyr, out over the water, an aerial game of tag that she intends to win. A slight dip in her trajectory has her bouncing off one thermal and looping around so that her chasers get a little closer for a second before she speeds off once more.

Aliona still has her stick, the realisation of which comes as something of a surprise to her. With a vague grin she looks at it long and hard, then tosses it off to one side. "Look, over there!" She points in the direction the stick went and then bursts out laughing. "A stick in the mud." Funniest. Thing. Ever! To her at least.

As Isanath barrel rolls, Tzettevonth pulls that much closer to that carroty tail, before it is snapped so rudely away as she darts off again. A low rumble, and he's climbing slightly higher, looking to gain some sort of advantage as he slips into first one thermal and then another. As she shoots off yet again, there is a little whimpered groan, but there is no hesitation as he shoots off yet again - his days of rest while S'u toiled in the mine seemingly paying off, as there is not even a flicker of exhaustion in the smooth motion of his wings. The lady can play her game - And the pawn creeps closer, not quite ready to be it - but not in the mood to be knocked off the board just yet either.

S'u's eyes follow the flying stick, something registering in the back of his mind, words coming out without much understanding "Isa won't forgive you for losing that.." And then his gaze is drifting back to the laughing Ali and he is just shaking his head, unsure of how to even respond to that. Oh, hormones.

The sun glints off the swirls of color in Rielth's hide as he rolls after her, orange, bronze, brass, gold, red they all glitter past in a rainbow of color. And his mind stays with Isanath's, still full of all the things that make autumn worthwhile, « I will in time, but the chase is always worthy. » He's trailing behind as he hits the thermal, glad for the added lift before giving his wings a hard beat to urge himself faster after her again. « Come away with me, o' dragon child. »

M'ta's just glad he isn't really processing Aliona right now. His lips twitch, but his mind is elsewhere. He may vaguely hear the joke and there's a hint of amusement on his face, but it may be Rielth's as well, as much as the bronze enjoys the teasing and banter portion of a flight.

«They are indeed slow…they cannot…» The deep rumble comes from Tiwazth as he surges forward, following her exact path down to the letter. There is no conserving his strength now, just the need to drive forward, and beat the others at this game she's put before them. Tiwazth drops in altitude, flying just below and to the side of her as if that might block the weaker males in their ascent.

I'ro smirks just the slightest as the stick goes sailing into the mud, but he doesn't let attention remain there for long. The bronzer's soon turns to Aliona once more, remaining there and holding that same fierceness as his life mate's.

Tzimisceth's muscles ripple across molten flanks, his hide catching the light and twisting in oddly reflected shapes as he surges after the gold, her playful teasing earning an odd sound from the bronze, almost a backwards hiss as he sucks in a breath, jaws parting in acceptance of the challenge. Far below, V'lad's expression almost mirror's his lifemate's mood, too distracted to entirely follow the joke, the man merely blinking at Aliona and, half-distractedly, at that stick. In the mud. His lifemate is far more focused, though no less lacking in humor, powerful wings attempting to make up in speed what he lacks in agility, the main bulk of him swerving widely but using the momentum to careen after Isanath, ever upwards. No words are sent toward his quarry, though flicker of fire and blood is evident in response, acceptance of the challenge, perhaps.

Aliona leans back against a tree, the laughter bubbling from her causing her to close her eyes tightly to stem the inevitable tears. Her breath comes in hiccups as the laughter calms slightly, eyes opening suddenly to stare at nothing. Her mind-fog has taken over almost entirely, the wind in her wings, the thrill of the flight, the panic as the thermal drops away from under her. Slowly she sinks down the tree muttering a quiet, breathless, "Izzy. Fly."

Isanath dances through the air, swooping and swirling, bouncing from thermal to thermal. Taunting. Teasing. Falling! One promising thermal suddenly ceases, taking the ginger gold by surprise and sending her swirling downwards out of control. Completely forgetting about her wings she panics, lashing out and trying to catch hold of something… someone… to stop her fall.

Suddenly, Isanath is the pawn on the game board of the heavens, the disappearing thermal shooting her out of the gate of the heavens and towards the ground. However, it is now that Tzettenvonth makes his move, ready to win the game, and become 'it'. Wings fold and he drops downwards after Isanath, descent far more controlled than the gold's, before amber-tipped limbs are outstretched, reaching, reaching… Tag!?

S'u is reaching for Ali, even as Tzettenvonth reaches for Isanath. "Get her!" He almost whimpers, stepping closer, closer, freezing with an arm outstretched, starting at Ali, eyes unseeing, all signs of exhaustion lifted from the bronze rider at this moment, caught as he is with his life mate far above.

Rielth aims to be higher than Isanath, it's how he do, and there's a moment of shock when she seems to suddenly plummet, then he tucks his wings back diving after her. As he draws nearer, his legs extend reaching to try to snap her out of the sky, « I'm coming, treasure, I won't let you fall. » As is necessary, he flares his wings at the last moment to avoid knocking her further from the sky, just hoping he manages to be the first to grab her, no, not hoping, certain he will be.

M'ta reaches for Ali in the same instant, he won't actually grab her unless Rielth succeeds above, but it's all part of the dance, his lips twisting into a smile as he lets himself hope, no, as Rielth's hope blazes through him, that maybe, just maybe, he'll win.

Tiwazth is careful in following, his movements less made for fluidity and more for the sake of showing strength. He continues to chase after her at a lower altitude, and unpon seeing her fall he surges upwards. His talons stretch out, reaching to catch her and bring her higher even while reaching out with his mind. « We must continue upwards…» The words are both fierce and protective, but there's no hint of trepidation.

I'ro himself steps forward, arms stretching outwards in much the same way as the bronze above while features soften just the slightest upon seeing her slumped against the tree.

V'lad finds his own tree trunk to put his back against, watching Aliona intently, almosy unblinkingly, as if he could stare at her hard enough to figure out what the joke is. Or possibly, he's not truly seeing her at all, mind racing with his lifemate high above. Tzimisceth isn't laughing either, although his wings continue to slice the air as he careens from thermal to thermal after the rising gold. Or is that suddenly falling? V'lad abruptly straightens where he'd placed himself, sucking in his breath in, admittedly, more than a little surprise, while his bronze up above lets out a more startled sound, raspy growl, wings snapping back as he rushes toward her - claws stretching forward with equal urgency. Apparently the dark bronze does have a chivalrous side.

Isanath lashes out with her talons, almost angry that there are males in her way but needing to use something to stop herself. Suddenly there's a slowing in her descent, a helpful embrace, and she clings tightly to Tzimisceth. Tag. He's it.

Tzettenvonth comes up empty - yet again letting Isanath slip between his grasp - and there's a croon as the bronze spirals to the ground - but it is nothing like that whimper that escapes S'u, the bronze rider slipping to his knees, hand closing around empty air, head dropping, chin resting against his chest. Failed.

Moyrel watches the flight, and observes the catch, nodding to herself as if making a mental note. Then, with a glance toward the riders, ah, ahem. Yeah, it's time to leave them in peace.

Rielth's claws catch on nothing but air and he rumbles, curling away and just flying for a while, leaving poor M'ta in the lurch. After a moment, the tall, lithe one simply melts into the foliage to wait for his dragon's return.

Tiwazth spirals to the beach now and I'ro begins to shake off some of that fog that has cleared his mind. He steps back from Aliona, looking a bit sad. There's a brief glance towards S'u and M'ta, sympathetic almost. And then, he's rubbing a hand over his face, letting out a small sigh and moving to join his lifemate.

This is usually the part where Tzimisceth gets an angry gold raking her claws across his flanks as he just misses her, so it's likely debatable who might be more surprised here - he or his rider. If V'lad seemed startled before, well, the look on his face now might be just short of priceless. Clearly, his dragon has spent too much time chasing the wrong Istan golds. The prize captured, V'lad's attention is all for Aliona, as me moves toward her, and really, there are worse things that could have happened on his turnday. Win.


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