|
|
Josy - Tuesday, July 11, 2000, 7:02 PM
--------------------------------------
The following is a roleplay-log from SouCon MUSH (soucon.godlike.com 4201). The world of Pern is copyright to Anne McCaffrey.
You step out onto the sandy, shady, lushly vegitated path, the smell of the sea and soft Southern flowers invading your nostrils.
You follow the trail, back around the slight bend, toward the clearing for these western weyrs.
You walk toward the Landing Field.
Jeuneth ambles across from the Northern Weyrs.
Bryena makes her way into the growing crowd, eyes searching for Baelen while quickly ducking past one of those assisting stewards.
Telinda stretches out a hand, aiming to squeeze the newest junior's shoulder, "You'll do an admirable job, Aithne, just stick with the formation, but break if you need to. You've done the drills!"
Kayjay sighs and unbuckles her jacket as she checks Suriath's new straps.
K'tor prudently keeps Albanth between himself and Hannenth's rider, as weyrlings start handing out sacks of stone and the like among the ranks. He goes back over the straps, and snags a load to loop around them already.
Stella is checking over Reanth's straps, tugging and testing to make sure all is secure. The usually mischevious blue is unusually - for him - serious, obliging his lifemate as she fusses, and making no attempts to trip her up like he's wont to do.
Joslyn would NEVER be late. Oh, nonono. Why, she's always on time for everything - except anything that's either important or not important. Anyway, she's here now with Jeuneth sort of in tow, the queen fitted appropriately with the black straps that so suit her hide. "Erm, yeah," she says in lieu of a real greeting.
Hannenth snorts faintly, eyeing her rider for a moment as she starts to peruse the field--and the riders about it. "Weyrleader!" she calls cheerfully, the faintest of smirks on her lips.
L'mir walks briskly down the formation of Moonsweep riders, occasionally barking a directional comment or two to them. Finally at the end of the row, he turns, hastily returning to the forefront.
Kayjay takes a couple sacks from a passing weyrling and attaches them to Suriath. She then grabs another, in readiness to start feeding the brown inferno. She chuckles as she notices Joslyn's late entrance.
Cloudchase slowly ambles together, K'ryn and K'yae taking seperate ends, talking to each rider, checking on each dragon. 'stone is crunched, and stored, straps placed on, and readiness comes closer.
Baelen spins on his heel as his stewards clamber to a stop, and folds his arms over his chest, trying to glower more than is usual. This is a serious matter, after all. "You! Yes...Bryena. Right over here, now."
Imara smiles.
K'tor starts down the ranks of Skyfury riders, double checking equipment and stone supplies. "Afternoon Remarra. You and Hannenth are looking well." That pleasantry exchanged, he heads on past, stopping here and there to tug and wherhide.
Tahren busily falls into line with all the non-descript folk for ground crew. He's new, but he seems to know what end's up of the situation as he falls in for duty.
Bryena pauses in her steps, only to ensure that she doesn't step on or run into one of the stewards. Nodding quickly, she approaches towards the group at a brisk stride. "What do you need, Baelen." She's only helping where needed right now.
Telinda's eyes watch K'tor, just for the briefest of moments, head tilting to watch his progress through the wings, and then she's back to business again. "Flamethrower all ready?" she asks Aithne. "And don't forget, Tiarnath and I are there. You can bespeak us anytime."
Iesath shuffles closer to K'yae's Ghorth, low, husky croon emerging from her maw. Auralia frowns, scowls, glances at K'yae, and turns away. "Iesath? Dearly, we've got things to do. Stone to eat. Come here." Pleasantries with those around her are given, and she even chatters with a few Skyfury members, while Iesath, somewhat disgruntled, chews at her stone.
Remarra taps a finger against her lips, thoughtful, as she watches after K'tor. After a look to Telinda, she shakes her head, retrieving her flamethrower from Hannenth's side and adjusting it here and there. Instead, "And your wing looks excellent, L'mir." No favorites, apparently.
Baelen glances briefly down at Bryena, a small flickering shadow seeming to flash across his face as he does so. "I need you to go over there, by the residents," He flashes a finger in Tahren's direction, "And make sure everything is in order - all the teams assembled and all that. Allright? And my name is sir." As we said before. Serious matter.
Aithne nods her head as she raises the flamethrower, "Checked over...as did Remarra earlier today." Most likely Aithne checked it once an hour for the past day.
Busily checking this and re-checking that, Joslyn only looks up in time to note Kayjay's laughter and makes a face over at that particular brownrider. Then it's all back to checking the nozzle of her flamethrower and shooting a sidelong glance at Aithne to add, "Me'n Jeuneth are here, too. Not much use, usually, but we like to pretend." She grins in a don't-worry-be-happy manner.
Kayjay strolls down the line of her wing, smiling at most but frowning at one greenrider who is again flirting with a gardener. "Pay attention to feeding your lifemate. IF you make it back you can flirt later." She continues on her way, smiling ever so charmingly.
L'mir pauses near his bronze, leaning over to pick up two choice chunks of 'stone. He tosses one then the other to Brielth, the dragon catching each one expertly. L'mir's nose wrinkles at the smell, no matter how long he's been around it. Of course Remarra's comment brings a quick grin as he nods toward the goldrider. "Thanks, Remarra." Was that a wink?
A head cook calmly directs a group of drudges to deal with the broken pottery. He continues on his way, carrying a tray of wineskins, placing them near the healers station.
K'tor grins as he pases Auralia, clasping her shoulder for a moment. Then he is gone back to Albanth, the bronze already not waiting for his rider and sticking his head into the stone bag before him to crunch and pulverize. "I'm coming, I'm coming."
"Yessir," Tahren mutters along with several of said residents, watching earnestly and moving to take on activity as directed.
A well trained group of residents head toward the pile of sacks at a light trot. Immediately, they heft sacks in their arms, and toss them to nearby Wingriders, falling easily into the rhythm that they have been taught. Each motion is carefully timed to prevent any possibility of collision or accident.
Remarra's fingers move rapidly over the controls of her thrower, head lifting in Aithne's direction for a moment. "That was just after the crossbow lessons, hmm, Aithne?" she teases lightly. Then L'mir gets her attention again. Well, hers is definitely a wink.
Imara and Yishenth hurry out onto the field. After checking to see that Starflame is gathered and on task, she grabs a sack of firestone and heads back to her lifemate.
P'trad catches a tossed sack of firestone, and swarms halfway up Phereth's straps to tie it on as another sack is set by the dragon's feet by a useful weyrling. He shouts something vaguely comprehensible downwards, and gets another one thrown to him, which he ties to the dragon's other side, balancing the weight. Then he is on the ground again, a flurry of activity only identifiable by his speed of motion and his rather loud shouts.
Bryena knows it's serious, but nevertheless she musters a nod and a brief glance towards Tahren's area. "I'll make sure of that, sir," she replies to Baelen, making a quick adjustment of the group.
Auralia hedges a smile K'tor-wards as he passes, head bobbing almost inperceptively, before she turns back, securing another sack of firestone to Iesath's straps. She pats the green, firmly, noting, "All done. And NO, that does not mean you can go back to Ghorth. So there."
Reanth cocks his head at Stella, as she snags a couple sacks of firestone to attach to his straps. Curving his head around, the blue seems to be directing her where to place them, illiciting a "Yes, yes, Rea, I know, I know." Finally, bags affixed to both their satisfaction, she takes up another sack, and starts the process of feeding him the 'stone. Rea chews complacently, looking at everyone else as he does so.
A green dragon bursts from *between*, carrying a couple of Healer Apprentices, who look nervous and out of place. They scramble their way down and make their way to the healer's station. They desperately try not to look like this is their first threadfall assignment. One is nearly beaned when she walks in between firestone sacks being thrown.
Tahren slips in towards the beginning of the chain, snaring the bags from the pile, at least the smaller ones, and hefting them to the next person in the brigade line, only to yelp quietly and call an apology to the healer apprentice.
Imara feeds Yishenth some 'stone and smiles over at Stella. "Are you and Reanth all ready?"
A tiny girl, almost hidden beneath the bag of stone in her arms, runs headlong into a bronzerider from Nightveil who scoops up the lass, kissing her on the forehead and sends her back towards her mother.
Telinda grins at her wing, "So long as we don't loose this one's toe, right Josy?" she asks, and then wiggles a finger at Belira. "No. Uh-uh. No!" she adds at the other goldrider's look.
"Crossbow lesson, ayup." Aithne affirms, so soon she forgets that bit of her position. She carefully adjusts the controls on her flamethrower. "There, all set"
Kayjay begins to feed Suriath firestone and quietly shakes her head at Baelen's comments. She strokes her lifemate, speaking in a low soothing voice. She giggles again at the mention of the toe.
The air rumbles as more and more dragons munch away. Cloudchase, clustered around K'run, are firing up to the southeast, while Monsoon is looking serious as they gather together. Younger weyrlings and residents run back and forth with last minute preparations while healers frown and consider their stores.
As if seriously, Joslyn comments, "Hey, it's not like I've ever really NEEDED that toe. I mean, we could make it a goldrider thing. Like the crossbows. Southern Weyr's Crossbow-Toting Wing of Nine-Toed Goldriders!" Oh, and she takes hold of Jeuneth's straps, too, smoothing a curled bit that had to be rubbing most uncomfortably.
Remarra sets her own thrower by Hannenth again, bobbing up and down on her toes, all restless energy, it seems. "You'll do well, Aithne, m'dear," she announces cheerfully.
K'tor only catches the 'No' from his weyrmate. And like a good boy, he looks up, freezing. Then realizing the directive wasn't aimed at him, goes back to feeding Albanth stone and watching the rest of the wings. Cloudchase gets a thoughtful frown, as does the gold wing in general.
Baelen places his hands on his hips abruptly as the dragonload of apprentices come in, "Late, of course," He mumbles to himself, "And only apprentices? I thought they'd promised a master." He turns his head to one side, suddenly, as Tahren's bag collides with the healer. Almost as if he knew, or something. Frightening. "Excuse me. Please try not and injure the healers, hmm? Then who'll attend to the riders when they come falling out of the air and such?"
A mask-like film blots out the full light of the sky, but still no overt menace is in sight.
Stella turns towards Imara and nods, the seriousness of Reanth's disposition echoed in her own. "Yes, ma'am, we are." she replies, as Rea tries to warble affirmatively past his current chunk of 'stone.
Telinda waggles a finger at Joslyn, "We'll be the ten-toed, with an exception made for the nine-toed member of our wing, thank you!" she replies, "Otherwise next we'll have an eight-toed, or worse, in Belira's case she's likely to shoot off her entire foot!" From across the landing field Belira looks ready to protest.
Dragonhealers and healers are the epitome of calmness in the sea of the chaos of Threadfall preparation. They go about their business, directing tubs of numbweed and redwort to be stationed at different points in the landing field, double checking supplies of bandages, needles and water.
Brielth didn't really sidestep toward Hanneth, did he? It must have been the swirl of dust that the dragons are kicking up as they mill around, getting ready. That snout didn't poke at her side either, that's a given. L'mir just shakes his head, following along to tug at the bronze's straps, securing them while the bronze is preoccupied. "I can't believe you.." he mutters.
Really, it is hard to be a brownrider who is trying to control her wing when she has the giggles, as Kayjay overhears the goldriders. She bites the side of her cheek hard and continues on her check, tossing Suriath another stone with practised ease.
A group of Healer apprentices gather behind a master, chattering quietly until a cool gaze sends them quavering about, setting up the tables and tents, all ready for their own threadfall battle.
Imara grins, apparently able to act cheerful even during this serious time. "Glad to hear that." She pats Yishenth and gives the green another piece of firestone. She grumbles, but chews on the rock anyway.
Iesath curls, just slightly, tail flicking. She's ready, why isn't everyone else? Auralia pats her side again, turns, and chats to a Skyfurian or two. "Just remember those drills we did, hmm? Just stay alert. We want absolutely -no- fatalaties, if you please." Goldriders of various sorts are heard, but not acknowledged. Not with anything other than a quirky smile, that is.
Grinning, "I guess One-Footed Goldriders don't quite have the same ring," says Joslyn with the quirk of a grin. Could just be well-hidden, but she doesn't look exactly terrified - even when she somehow manages to unscrew the nozzle of her flamethrower at just the wrong moment. "Why does this always happen?" comes with a sigh while she resolutely hurries to correct the issue. Grumble.
"I'll keep my toes as they are. Thank you." Aithne points out before she turns her attention to Araneth's straps, the dragon waiting with less than usual patience.
A tall holder gathers his team of groundcrewers together, nodding his head firmly as they each test their flamethrower, and set off in their commanded direction.
Kayjay finishes the last check and starts to rock back and forth, toe to heel as she awaits the call.
Hannenth inspects Brielth thoughtfully then nuzzles him lightly back. her lifemate urns her gaze toward the nuzzling pair and then inspects L'mir again, thoughtful. Threadfall? What?
Aitara flashes her arms through the air to get her wingseconds attention. Once their eyes are on her, she makes the form up gesture while shouting the words and the command ripples down the ranks. Nightveil dragons begin to rise to their feet and shift positions. Tumalath ends up behind the blues on the left flank, one slightly larger green in front of her.
Bryena approaches the nearest person in the resident's group, eyes darting towards the flamethrower for a moment. Inquiring about it's status for a moment, she starts towards the center of the group to take a last moment check of all flamthrowers - including her own since it's been hefted this far.
Imara gives Yishenth one last chuck of 'stone, then does a last check of her straps and gear. "C'mon, it's about time to go."
Telinda calls over, "Remarra, grab your mind from wherever it's vacationing, please dear? We have thread to fight!"
Baelen nods lightly - an approving nod, no less - at each of his teams as he rounds on his heel again, and begins striding Weyrleaderwards. He's the one by that bronze over there, right? "Groundcrew assembled and ready, sir."
The ground crew seems to be ready for the last part of its preparation. Crewers pair up, or are paired up by crew leaders, checking the tanks and nozzles on the agenothree canisters. At last, arms go through the straps, crewers shifting and squirming until they're as comfortable as can be.
Finally, Reanth has appearently had enough 'stone, and he settles back to wait. Rather patiently, in fact. The time will come to fly, and when it does, he'll be ready. Stella, however, shifts her wieght from one foot to the other - not quite jittering, but close.
Most of the wings are pretty much mounted up, and waiting with quiet patience for the order to take to the skies. There are a lot of anxious faces all over, seasoned riders and newly tapped wingmates alike. The dragons rumble with anticipation.
Aithne glances over to spot Stella, offering her a quick grin before she fastens her helmet on, goggles perched on top.
Remarra jumps and turns, eyeing Telinda for a moment, grinning. "I'm ready, honest." She steps toward Hannenth, slinging her flamethrower on and making a few final adjustments.
K'tor nods crisply to Baelen, already drawing on gloves and buttoning his jacket closed. "Likely looking bunch, Baelen. You'll forgive me if I hope we don't have to use too much of them. Go ahead and take them on." He then turns and waves his arm in the signal to mount, before bellowing, "Riders! Mount up!"
K'tor thumps Albanth's flank affectionately and then steps onto his foreleg. With the bronze's help, K'tor vaults to his seat.
Telinda nods to the Weyrleader, and then gestures to the rest of her wing to mount up.
Telinda scrambles nimbly up onto Tiarnath with the help of a proffered foreleg. The Champagne and Pearl Gold warbles in excitement as her lifemate settles herself between her neckridges.
Imara echoes K'tor's command. "Okay Starflame, mount up!"
Tahren says "Yessir!" Tahren replies to the Steward, reddening all the way to the tips of his ears, then calling another apology to the healer. Hey, he's got the 'sir' thing right! He settles into the rhythm of the work, then."
Screwing up her face, Joslyn looks rather puzzled for the few moments it takes her to get her get the nozzle righted - brows furrowed and so forth. "I think I got it," she says to no one in particular, stealing a glance around to see if anyone was watching all that and then putting up a silencing finger at Belena. Their little secret. Up she goes. "You know the drill, sweetling," with a grunt from her lifemate.
Aithne nods as she turns to clamber up Araneth's side.
Kayjay echos down her wing. "Mount up!"
You approach Jeuneth just as the Queen crouches for you, one foreleg bent to allow you an easier mount.
** Aithne climbs up Araneth's foreleg using her straps to make her way up to her neckridges.
** Imara steps lightly onto Yishenth's outstretched foreleg, then swings easily into the comfortable place between her lifemate's neckridges.
** Kayjay hauls herself up onto Suriath with the help of a proffered foreleg, settling herself between the Sunrazed Savannah Brown's neckridges.
** Auralia nimbling swings up Iesath's side, barely using the straps to get up to the higher neckridges, while the young green warbles, watching her, eyes whirling happily. Once up there, Aura leans down to pat her lifemates neck, eyes full of love.
** Stella catches Aithne's grin, and manages to send one of her own in the goldrider's direction. And then she's jumping to get mounted at both K'tor and Imara's order.
** Stella hauls herself up onto Reanth with the help of a proffered foreleg, settling herself between the Deciduous Whimsical Blue's neckridges.
** L'mir gives a quick turn toward Moonsweep, sable eyes scanning each and every rider possible. He's learned to bark, days of working with weyrlings obvious. "Mount up, Moonsweep!" he calls out loudly, then mounts Brielth, himself.
** L'mir reaches up to take a firm grasp on Brielth's riding straps, and swings up into the seat between his neckridges with the help of his foreleg.
** From her spot between her lifemate's 'ridges, Auralia slides into place between Iesath's higher neckridges, strapping herself in quickly. A nod is executed, to no one in particular, but perhaps mostly to herself, and she settles back, jacket on, gloves shoved onto hands. Ready to go.
** Avan appears from *between*.
** High atop Albanth, K'tor waits until everyone is mounted, and then pumps his fist in the signal to rise, as Albanth crouches.
** Albanth spreads bronze wings misted with green. He gathers himself and springs into the air, the transition surprisingly smooth.
** Albanth flies toward the sky over Southern Weyr.
** Iesath soars to the sky over Southern Weyr.
** Hannenth flies toward the sky over Southern Weyr.
** Suriath soars to the sky over Southern Weyr.
** Araneth soars to the sky over Southern Weyr.
** From atop Yishenth, Imara straps herself in, and checks to make sure that the rest of Starflame is doing the same. Then she and Yishenth lead the wing into the sky.
** Seated atop Tiarnath, Telinda shoves her helmet on her head, even as she reaches back and adjusts the flamethrower harness on her shoulder. She nods to her wing, then glances over to K'tor, giving the signal as he does.
** Yishenth soars to the sky over Southern Weyr.
** Reanth soars to the sky over Southern Weyr.
** Tiarnath soars to the sky over Southern Weyr.
** From Brielth's bronze back, L'mir's hand reaches up to tug on the jawstrap, palm raised to signal his wing to rise.
** Brielth soars to the sky over Southern Weyr.
<Southern Weyr> Remarra blahs and waits for the spam to end.
** Baelen gives K'tor a little sniff, and a professional nod, and then the Steward's off examining his team again, for the umpteenth time. Jehren gets a nod - looks like that one shaped up well. Good.
Dragon> Southern Weyr sense that Albanth announces, << We go now to *Island river*. Everyone stay in formation and come out cleanly to show the holders. >> His tone is faintly bemused as he passes along the visualization.
** In the northern sky, Albanth disappears into Between.
** In the northern sky, Yishenth disappears into Between.
You fly toward the sky over Southern Weyr.
** Iesath disappears into Between.
** Jeuneth disappears into Between.
Between
Between is a cold, empty void of awful nothingness. You can hear nothing, see nothing, smell nothing, touch nothing, and it is only the knowledge that light lies on the other side, and that your dragon is with you, that keeps you from screaming. Silently, you chant the ancient talisman, as you hover in this place between places...
Black...
Blacker...
Blackest!
You suddenly emerge...
** Jeuneth emerges from Between with a blast of cold air!
** Reanth emerges from Between with a blast of cold air!
** Brielth emerges from Between with a blast of cold air!
** Suriath emerges from Between with a blast of cold air!
Dragon> Southern Weyr sense that Iesath's voice shimmers with fragrant oak, dappled in moonlight, and she notes, decisively, << Still in formation. This is good, so far. >>
** Araneth emerges from Between with a blast of cold air!
** Tiarnath emerges from Between with a blast of cold air!
** Atop Suriath, Kayjay looks behind and to the side, a grim smile on her face as the wing appears in perfect order.
** From Brielth's bronze back, L'mir lifts up to almost standing, head twisted to look over his shoulder at Moonsweep riders as each one blinks out of *between*. His lips twitch as he counts, eyes glued to their formation.
** High atop Albanth, K'tor twists about in the straps, checking the formations as the weyr comes out of between over the hold. He nods crisply, and then gives the signal to spread out into the layers, before turning his attention to the east.
Joslyn never does look very 'well' after going Between, and this venture is no different. Indeed, she looks customarily pale and very slightly green around the gills, but shakes it off soon enough to find her fingers absently fiddling with that silly nozzle once more. A deep breath later and she looks as collected as the queen holding steady 'neath her.
** From her spot between her lifemate's 'ridges, Auralia slips out of *between* straight into formation, rumbling her readiness, even if her tail twists towards Ghorth, far off as he is. Aura sighs, pulls her goggles down, and waits, leaning forward slightly.
** Between Tiarnath's neckridges, Telinda peers over her shoulder, nodding as she spots Sunblaze fall into formation below the wings, nodding and giving a thumbs up in Aithne's direction. She turns back, and waits for the grey sheet to appear on the horizon.
** From her spot between her lifemate's 'ridges, Auralia has reconnected.
** From her spot between her lifemate's 'ridges, Auralia has partially disconnected.
** From atop Hannenth, Remarra, made the final adjustments to her thrower, thumping her gold's shoulder as she banked into formation with the other golds below the fighting wings. Both gold and rider seemed to be anticipating.
** Suriath smoothly glides into place as Kayjay gestures Firedance into their formation. Lifemates lean forward, waiting anxiously, Brownrider soothing dragon with a calming slap.
** Araneth slips from between moving into formation. On her back, Aithne settles the flamethrower into position and checks it yet again. Her gaze moves towards Telinda as she returns Telinda's thumbs up.
** Iesath emerges from *between* straight into formation, roaring her triumph, her readiness, and yes, her affection for the brown whom she reaches towards with a tail that will -never- reach. Aura leans forward, resigned to this affection, no doubt, but half scowling. Ahem.
** Yishenth hovers in formation, waiting for the evil Threads to make their appearance.
** Reanth hovers smartly in formation with Starflame. Stella seems to have lost her jitters, and with a sound pat to blue hide, turns her full attention to the menace to come.
** From Brielth's bronze back, L'mir makes a final check of Moonsweep riders as they blink in, then scowls, sitting back between Brielth's neckridges. Two riders had veered outward too much, breaking a less than perfect formation. Ohboy. There will be 'words' tonight.
** The cloud is now directly before the fighting wings of Southern Weyr, more a solid shimmering wall than a cloud now, approaching, approaching faster and faster.
** There is a hissing sound against the silent afternoon, as the silvery sheets ripple towards shore and extinguish themselves on the waters edge. But the waiting is very short as the edge of the silvery rain ripples towards the front ranks of the wings.
** Sinuous silver strands begin their assault on the Flight almost immediately, raining down towards the dragons at an unpredictably oblique angle.
** As the fall begins, the clear skies whose tranquillity was broken only by the beating of dragon wings just a moment before become marred by the writhing silver strands of Pern's ancient enemy: Thread! The first clumps are swiftly approaching Firedance's Wings; one, Suriath.
** Jeuneth remains resolutely fixed in her position in the wing, hovering in tidy formation - a distinctly dark smear against the crisp glitter of so many wings. "Yes, it's fixed... Of course I wouldn't lie to you..." Now isn't a good thing no one can here Joslyn from where she's seated, squinting up at the sky expectantly.
** From between Araneth's neckridges, Aithne lowers her goggles as the first clumps begin to appear. A test of her flamethrower before Araneth tenses, waiting for the command to begin.
** The sky is now lit by intermittent flashes of Thread-searing flame. Intervals between the flashes at first can be measured in seconds, but in an instant, the leading edge has become a solid curtain, and the flickering is constant over the entire formation of airborne dragons.
** Between Tiarnath's neckridges, Telinda does one more check over her shoulder -- Aithne might be nervous, but so's Telinda when there's an unseasoned rider in the wing. Check goes above, to the pregnant riders, staying well out of reach of the flamethrowers. Thread! Attention focusses! The flamethrower wand drops into her hand with a solid thunk, and eyes are kept posted ahead.
** Finally! No more waiting. Suriath springs forward, gliding silently in pursuit of his prey, his flame pounces on the thread, charring it into oblivion. With a roar he wings his way back into formation.
** Albanth lets out a roar, already leaping forward to meet the silvery menace, surging enough that Kat checks him, instead watching and waiting. That does *not* meet with the bronze's liking, even though it is a necessity, to gauge the fall. As the curtain descends, Kat pumps his fists to Skyfury, before allowing Albanth to continue on.
** T'pilic's brown Juninuth emits a scream of pain as he is caught on his flank side, writhing in agony a moment, before disappearing *between*. A wingmate, a fellow Cloudchasian, pulls into position in time to kill the thread with a great burst of flame, moving out of the way as the brown pair returns, this time winging lower to the ground.
** From Brielth's bronze back, L'mir's hands are in motion in what seems to be random thrashing. Actually, it seems to be making sense to his wingriders as they break that not-so-neat formation to surge at the silvery threads.
** Iesath opens wide her maw, flame pouring out like some great river of fire, searing threads to little more than dust beneath her wings. She wings slightly closer to the dragon next to her, and then springs back. Someone's mind isn't -completely- on the fall, considering Ghorth is in that direction. Aura, not exactly happy, yells something lost in the noise.
Dragon> Southern Weyr sense that Albanth's tone is angry. << Focus Cloudchase! Fall has only begun! >>
** Reanth rumbles, a low, angry sound. Ready to flame, to fight. But waiting, not patient now, for the signal to begin defeating this dark danger. When will it come? He rumbles again.
** Suriath turns slightly as Kayjay makes adjustments to the wing with a series of handsignals. The browns move into their new position, bronzes coming to the front.
** From between Araneth's neckridges, Aithne may be nervous, but Remarra has taught her well. -Focus-. The wand settles easily into her hand, her gaze intently ahead of her as she waits for the signal to begin
** With many of the front-line dragons busy clearing the sky of a sudden spurt of clumps, it is little wonder that a few ragged patches manage to make their way towards Iesath and Auralia.
** Tiarnath soars, snapping her wings out to their fullest extension, champagne wingspars glittering in the light. A small tangly patch of silver threads is her targer, hissing through the wings, escaping their touch, and heading towards the ground, precariously close to one of the small orchards. Telinda gives the signal, her knees clamping firmly around the gold's neck as her lifemate banks hard right. Switch is toggled, and as the gold adjusts a fingersail a fraction, her rider lets forth a gout of flame, blasting the thread into nothing but char.
** Jeuneth would growl except that would be a wasted utterance. Rather than issue any sort of vocalization, she only glances expectantly this way and that, tracking clumps that are just as soon seared from above. Particularly when, in a fit of what might be panic, Joslyn just sort of starts beating on the handle of her flamethrower with a gloved fist - like that's going to do any good.
** From her spot between her lifemate's 'ridges, Auralia emits a yelp to Iesath, who manages to get herself flaming just in time to save herself and her rider from the ragged patches heading her way. Auralia narrows her eyes beneath goggles, concentrating hard, and with luck, only dust falls beneath.
** Yaneth wheels, ready to char, showing the agility characteristic of her size and colour. The blue directly behind her slows and dives suddenly, leaving the green to dart *between* just in time to avoid a collision. The tangled clump of thread slips though to the Queens' wing.
Dragon> Tiarnath bespoke Jeuneth with << You will have that flamethrower repaired immediately we land. Is it working enough to fly fall? >>
** From between Araneth's neckridges, Aithne leaps forward, as Aithne readies the flamethrower. A pull on the trigger, a flash of flame and a bit of char rains down from the pair. Araneth gathers herself for another slivery stripe falling from the skies, Aithne hanging on as she twists and turns.
** Yishenth rushes forward to meet an strand of Thread coming towards her. Opening her jaw as far as it will go, she sends forth an enormous burst of fire, charring the silver enemy to ashes.
Dragon> Southern Weyr sense that Tiarnath rumbles << Araneth, you should be in position to get that clump. Go for it! >>
** Albanth flames steadily, as Kat attempts to keep his attention everywhere at once. His scowl is fairly evident, as he starts bellowing instructions to Cloudchase. All he is doing is wearing himself hoarse, considering Albanth will relay the orders, but it clearly makes him feel better to yell.
** From Brielth's bronze back, L'mir's teeth clench, then he utters a series of curses, words hardly ever heard except for the Southern Skies. "Shard... " the rest is lost in the mingling of soot and small particles that swirl around him. "Let's go, Brielth!" he bellows, as the pair bolt directly before a young blue and his lifemate to sear at the Thread that was headed toward the inexperienced duo. The rider atop the blue cringes, both dropping to the side safely.
** Hannenth drops her shoulder, jetting off to one side and dropping below a particularily large clump of Thread. One blast of her flame thrower and its reduced to char. Remarra sputters a bit as the ash hits her in the face, even as the gold wheels about to get back into formation.
Jeuneth> Tiarnath senses that Jeuneth is duly irritated by this matter. << I am not particularly certain how *I* will have it repaired. But I'll tell Josy to look after it. She says she believes she can fix it. >> She sounds like she believes it, at least.
** Araneth folds her wings, diving as she twists to put Aithne at just the right place. Fortunately, all the girl has to do is pull the trigger and the clump turns to char. We won't think about how Aithne's back will feel later.
** From between Araneth's neckridges, Aithne has partially disconnected.
** A conflagration of burning sears across the sky, as several dragons in Starflame dart in to burn away a large section of thread, instantly disappearing as the sheet continues to cascade from above. Their job is mostly done though, the few strands remaining wriggling down through the wings towards Reanth.
** As Yishenth's flame begins to dwindle, Imara reaches into her firestone sack, and tosses her lifemate a fresh piece of rock. The green chews quickly, then wings over to a spiralling clump on her left.
** High atop Albanth, K'tor issues another blistering reprimand to Cloudchase, as Albanth pops between, cutting him off mid rant. The bronze chars more silvery-gray to ash, and Kat picks up right where he left off, yelling. Wings are shuffled around, and Cloudchase is directed to the lower levels, as Nightveil and Skyfury take up some of the slack, forcing the other wings to make adjustments as well. Once Cloudchase drops, he turns bellows to Moonsweep to close ranks and make the adjustment quicker.
** Tiarnath banks right, banks left, each time going after another stray patch, a conflagrational burst of flame accompanying her movements. One tangle is missed, but then spotted. The gold has it within her sights, the target set, vector angled, and her wings pull back slightly to give her the added velocity she needs through the air, cutting through to the deadly menace like a flame through oil. Close now, almost too close, Telinda leans over, letting her straps keep her in her seat, and incinerates the wriggling, deadly patch, letting it drift towards the ground, though this time only glowing dust.
** At the height of the fall, thread streams down endlessly, without a pause, a burning silver rain seeking to eat its way through the Weyr's defenses. Strands slide over tough dragon hide leaving scores and screams behind. Still more is decimated, ash dissipated in the wind.
** Iesath flames well, while her rider attempts to wriggle about and get another sack to replenish the green's slowly dissapating supply. Green head darts about, not really wanting this, but somehow, someway, Aura manages to get the green chewing once more.
** The soft hissing of thread burning through the air dominates even over the wings of a hundred dragons beating wings. The odd scream of agony as the deadly mass hits home, overwhelming the sibilant sounds, and the vacuum of *between* appearing and disappearing as dragons zip in and out. One clump heads down towards Moonsweep, heading right for Brielth.
** From Brielth's bronze back, L'mir would look a little green-faced with red cheeks if one could see him under all the dirt and grime that covers the exposed parts of his face. "Arrrgh!" he yells, lips pursed tightly as he nods to K'tor. He sure hopes his wing can accomplish the direction to close ranks. Brielth's hide ripples with muscle activity as he sweeps a tight circle around the wing, urging them onward.
** Reanth swoops up abruptly, hopefully in no one's way, jaws gaping wide as he meets his target - the twisting strands of sinister silver headed his way. Flame shoots forth from his maw with a roar, seering the deadly strands from the skies, to drift down only as ash. Then, seemingly turning on his tail, a manuever usually only seen when he's fleeing an angry recipient of a prank, he swoops back into place, to search out and sear more of the twisting menace.
** From between Araneth's neckridges, Aithne seems to dodge and dart through the air with the agility of a much smaller dragon, bits of falling char and ash a testiment to the pairs work. Aithne goggles are rather crooked as they begin to shift against her face, the rider not daring to stop to straighten them. She really doesn't need to see dies she?
** Araneth seems to dodge and dart through the air with the agility of a much smaller dragon, bits of falling char and ash a testiment to the pairs work. Aithne goggles are rather crooked as they begin to shift against her face, the rider not daring to stop to straighten them. She really doesn't need to see dies she?
** In silent response to Albanth's instruction, Suriath leads the Firedance Wing into place, closing the ranks and filling in holes, making sure to protect the Goldwing. Kayjay frowns, gesturing curt commands as she glances down.
** A dance with death, though borne from inert grace, Tiarnath heads after each thread tangle that escapes from the wings above. A downstroke here, catch a thermal there, flame. Turn. *Between*. Back again. Dip a fingersail here. Clump of thread charred to dust there. Each movement is coordinated, Telinda and the gold moving together as one. As Tiarnath banks, Telinda leans, testing straps to their limits. As she dips, she toggles the flamethrower, dealing out death, turning the organism to red embers.
** A scream of pain serves as a warning as a Nightveil blue disappears into *between*, his wingtip scored. What Thread does not go *between* with him continues its descent towards Remarra and Hannenth.
** From atop Yishenth, Imara signals her wing to follow her as she and Yishenth head closer to where Cloudchase Wing is. The green immediately goes back to work, flaming any Thread that crosses her path.
** Jeuneth seems to be doing little but keeping her place in the wing for the longest time, nothing from Joslyn to signify any sort of luck with her troublesome flamethrower. "Puckered feline rump!" declares the goldrider with a last irritated thump for the device, which only then decides it's a good idea to start working again and out comes a very comforting tongue of flame followed by a whoop of joy from Joslyn. Now she's armed again - go her!
** Brielth dips a wingsail downward, attempting to char a particularly large clump of Thread with one of the younger dragons. That clump that heads toward him catches his flank slightly, bringing a bellow from the bronze. L'mir yells, sounding like the bellow, his eyes now snapping with anger.
** Tangled threads fall, weaving their shimmering splendour through the massed wings, and dangling just out of reach of a few Skyfurian riders. Instead, the threads fall further down, touching on the outer edges of Starflame, tangling tighter and tighter as they fall lower in the sky.
** Albanth clears a wide swath, taking out his frustration on the thread that sears his dragons. There is too much falling towards the ground for his or Kat's liking and the bronze and his rider pop abruptly between, emerging higher up and out of formation above the flight. Another wide swath is cleared, as Albanth sweeps forward, Kat leaning in the straps and surveying below.
** Hannenth darts to one side, instintively aware of the descending thread. Her lifemate wipes at her goggles, gaze aimed upwards. A carefully timed blast of the flamethrower destroys the piece before the pair resume eyeing the skies, vigilant.
** Suriath moves with impossible grace as he catches yet another clump Cloudchase missed. He sears it to nothingness but roars his displeasure at the blue that missed this easy target.
** From between Araneth's neckridges, Aithne has not seen Joslyn's plight, the only thing in her mind the threads that falls around her. Flames dart out from the nozzle, leaving just trace of char. Aithne doesn't even have time to admire her work, for Araneth is off to another clump.
** Iesath emits a roar of command, taking command of the wing without duress. The formation flattens, a clump heading closer to the middle pairs, and thread is flamed, to char, to ash, that falls downwards without mercy.
** Perhaps it's to make up for lost time, but Jeuneth is just too prompt about seizing on the very first thing that floats her way and has Joslyn firing at the mass without a moment's hesitation. Unfortunately, it turns out to be a stray firestone bag and the goldrider ducks with chagrin momentarily: Oops. But now it's back to the serious work at hand, her shadow-cloaked lifemate banking after a REAL clump this time. Thread - flame - ash - yay!
** The battle is fought in earnest, failure meaning the end of the green below, victory meaning the chance to defend it again. Dragons dance through the sky, the roars of the giant, enraged creatures keeping time to their dance of death. A Cloudchaser's green is struck, a glancing blow, and she winks from existence, returning moments later. Yet that one brief instance allows a cluster of ominously twisting thread to slip through the formation. Only Aithne and Araneth are close enough to protect the full and vibrant life below.
** Albanth pulls up abruptly, likely going higher than truely advisable above the flight. In the thin air, his flame goes further than expected, and clears a wide lane in the deadly stuff. Displeased, Kat shoves more 'stone into Albanth's maw, the pair flickering between in the middle of the operation to avoid yet another sheet.
** The roiling Thread slants at an odd angle, falling swiftly, almost directionally towards Firedance Wing.
** Brielth blinks into *between*, emerging to the far left of the wing, safely. L'mir shudders, glancing over his shoulder to survey the bronze's hide. He raises a hand, signaling the need for a resupply of stone. A young weyrling catches the signal, promptly coming to L'mir's side. At least someone did something right for a change.
** Araneth is winging her way towards the clump, then her wings tuck into a dive as she chases the twisting danger across the sky. A moment later, a bright flash emerges from the end of Aithne's flamethrower and the clump continues down, transformed into char.
** Yishenth roars as a clump of Thread passes too close to her wing for her liking. She swivels around and spews hot fire at the offending Thread. It quickly morphs from threat to black ash floating on the breeze.
** Iesath slides forward, rainforest valley green wings beating a monotonous tattoo through the skies as she fills Albanth's recently vacated position, maw opened wide with a combination of roar and flame emerging from deep within. Aura, in all her wisdom(?) turns her head, calling a frantic warning to one S'himel and his blue Zhjath, who duck out just in time to miss their once impending doom.
** Kayjay snags another firestone sack and shoves more into Suriath's maw just as this new waves comes towards them. She directs her lifemate back, gesturing forward a bronze who sears the thread, and then another gesture as the browns come forward, reducing the sheet to nothing more than dark ash that falls like rain down on those below.
** Nearly worn out, many of the chromatic colored dragons slip faster and faster into *between*. Reinforcements are slow in coming as there are not that many to replace those that have gone. Young weyrlings of all colors are pale-faced with effort and exhaustion as they bring sack after sack to depleted riders. Like hope, life and other enduring things, the Queen's wing below seems immutable, untouchable. Their bravery is unmatched as they surround and char the dreaded thread clouds that slip through the patterns of dragons above.
** Flashes of flame appear all around, their colour a contrast to the grey mass of thread, and the ash-covered dragon hides, muting even their appearance in the sky. Shouts come from all around as a sudden gust of wind blows a sheet off course, sending a multitude of mycorrhizoid towards Albanth in Skyfury wing.
** Skimming through the air, with surprising agility for her size, Tiarnath skims low, barely missing the tops of the orchard trees as she heads after one elusive strand that's managed to avoid the death reigning down from above. Telinda throws her weight to the side, barely missing, or did she, another tangle that seemingly came from nowhere, the pair blinking *between* even as Telinda flicks the lever on the agenothree tank, widening the range of the resulting spray to catch the errant clump.
** Iesath keeps fighting: not yet warn out, and still with a job to do. She may not be good, but she's still brave, thank you very much, and untouchable, so far. So there.
** Albanth is still high above, and after a signal from Kat, Monsoon wing adjusts its position slightly to provide better coverage for Moonsweep wing. The bronze sears another wide swath in the falling thread, using the thin air to futher his flame. It seems to be a tactic that is working, though the Weyrleader makes no signal to the rest of the flight to increase altitude.
** Reanth slows, ducking out of the fight long enough for Stella to toss more firestone into his waiting jaws. With a twist and strong beats of his wings, soon he's flying gamely back into the fray, fresh flame ready to sear alongside his wingmates.
** The steady, sheeting Threadfall becomes more patchy
** Jeuneth doesn't bother with all the grace and agility nonsense. Oh, no. This is business and it's nothing but efficiency as she trails her way from one patch to the next, keeping distance to allow her lifemate plenty of room to manipulate that flamethrower of hers. A few sputters punctuate the bursts of flame, but otherwise things seem all well and good from Joslyn, who even remembers to duck out of the way of searing ash.
** The steady, sheeting Threadfall becomes more patchy, thicker portions here, thinner to none elsewhere. 'Fall is nearing its end.
** Araneth twists and darts as she chases the various clumps. Aithne has managed somehow to straighten her goggles, broad streaks of black soot and grey ash covering the rider.
** From Brielth's bronze back, L'mir raises a hand to Monsoon Wing's leader, his expression if anyone could see would be grim. There will be /many/ drills after this night for his wing. He's all business now, changing his tactic to provide an example for his wingriders. Onward Brielth charges, taking thread piece after piece, skimming the skies. After him come each member of the wing, using the coverage and Brielth's lead to lessen the fall. It's working.
** Yishenth is tiring a little, but not enough to quit. She continues to flame the silvery demons, always staying in formation.
** Hannenth blinks from *betwen*, Remarra shaking ash off her clothing. The great gold pumps her wings steadily, heading for a large clump missed by the upper wings, turning in a large arch as her rider leeeeeeans to the side, aiming the flamethrower as neatly as she aims a crossbow.
** The onslaught is pitiless, and even the bravest hearts can't hope to catch it all. Threads slides through the lines, and nearly a whole clump drops down almost on top of Yishenth, missed by the dragon flames from above.
** Iesath :flattens her wings, winging lower, and leaving Skyfury open for Albanth once more. Time to rest.
** Suriath blasts yet again, his lifemate barely controlling his rage at the folly of those who have been sloppy. Kayjay gestures to the hind end of her wing who are tiring and watches with satisfaction as they disappear *between*.
** Iesath soars downwards for a landing.
** Tiarnath trumpets loudly, a warning of caution as a badly-placed weyrling barely misses a tangle of threads. The blue blinks *between*, barely missing the silvery tangle, and leaving it instead for Telinda to burn it into nought but dust. On her back, Telinda tugs at her straps, quickly making an emergency repair, before turning her attention back to the endless bank and burn cycle.
** Albanth starts to descend as the fall becomes patchier. Kat rips at the cover over his mouth, before the bronze blinks between. He is gone for a long moment, and then emerges back on Skyfury's level, searing the topmost of the clump that descends on Yishenth.
** From atop Yishenth, Imara looks up just in time to see the clump drop. Shouting a warning even though it need not be spoken, she ducks as Yishenth veers away. The green then comes back around to char the clump, soaring through the remaining ashes with a proud bugle.
** Intermittently, Thread slips towards the dragonriders until the last Thread has fallen to be charred by the flame deterrents. Threadfall's over!
** Jeuneth skims along neatly, catching one or two errant strands as they trickle passed but - gradually - even the puffs of orange that erupt from Joslyn's flamethrower die away. Still, the queen hangs attentively in the dragon-cluttered sky, her attention called as by Yishenth's dive so that she wheels to attend these happenings. Then comes a quiet bugle of congratulations to the green: Saved her the trouble of chasing it down.
** Seated atop Tiarnath, Telinda glances over her shoulder, releasing a hand from her flamethrower to press against her leg. Relief. All there.
** From atop Yishenth, Imara breathes a deep sigh of relief as she looks to the skies, now clear.
** High atop Albanth, K'tor sweeps forward, and then wheels. Kat signals to Cloudchase to again scout leading edge, and surprisingly, Moonsweep gets trailing edge. Then he gives the motion to return to the weyr.
** Hannenth bugles in triumph. On her back, Remarra pumps a fist, her clothes and face covered in grat ash and smeared about. At Kat's signal, she thumps Hanneth's shoulder, releasing her flamethrower.
** From atop Yishenth, Imara turns around to face the rest of Starflame. "Let's go home everyone!"
** Atop Suriath, Kayjay gives the command back to her weary wing and heads back.
** Reanth speed and quickness is lagging slightly as the blue tires. But he's not ready to quit, not yet. But ready or not, the skies are clear, and he looses a disappointed grumble as he slips easily back into his place in formation. He had slipped out of it slightly, but hopefully no one noticed. And then, the signal to go home.
** Suriath disappears into Between.
** Tiarnath disappears into Between.
** Yishenth disappears into Between.
Dragon> Southern Weyr sense that Albanth announces, << Sweeps for Moonsweep and Cloudchase. Wingleaders from those wings, report findings to Iseath's rider to tell the Holder. >> Evidently, he's not staying behind as his custom.
** Araneth moves back into formation, Aithne dropping the covering over her mouth to take a deep breath. She offers Telinda a broad grins, before the pair follow suit.
** Araneth disappears into Between.
** Reanth disappears into Between.
** Jeuneth is one of the many who just cease to exist in this portion of the sky.
** Jeuneth disappears into Between.
Between
Between is a cold, empty void of awful nothingness. You can hear nothing, see nothing, smell nothing, touch nothing, and it is only the knowledge that light lies on the other side, and that your dragon is with you, that keeps you from screaming. Silently, you chant the ancient talisman, as you hover in this place between places...
Black...
Blacker...
Blackest!
You suddenly emerge...
** Jeuneth emerges from Between with a blast of cold air!
** Araneth flies toward the broad Landing Field below.
** Reanth soars to the broad Landing Field below.
** Nymath flies over from the Landing Field at Southern Weyr.
** Nymath flies toward the sky above the Ocean Weyrs.
** Nymath flies over from the Ocean Weyrs.
** Nymath flies toward the broad Landing Field below.
** Albanth emerges from Between with a blast of cold air!
** Albanth soars to the broad Landing Field below.
You soar to the broad Landing Field below.
** Stella jumps down off of Reanth, landing smoothly as her lifemate croons.
** T'las jumps down from Nymath's back with the help of the straps and a kindly proffered foreleg.
** Telinda jumps down off of Tiarnath with lithe elegance. She smiles as the Champagne and Pearl Gold nudges her hip playfully and her eyes glaze for a brief moment.
** Telinda carefully extends her leg over her lifemate's shoulder, and then slips to the ground, "Healer!" she calls out at the top of her voice, followed by "Joslyn!"
** Kayjay whips the helmet off her head, barely containing the anger she fights within. She carefully checks Suriath over, speaking soothingly once again, looking back towards her wing with more than a bit of pride. She takes a deep breath, calming herself before turning back towards the others.
** Jeuneth alights easily, finding a relatively vacant spot in which she can settle with a quick gust as she furrows her wings. "I didn't do it!" comes the immediate response from Joslyn as she hurries to unbuckle herself and find purchase on the ground.
Aithne sets down her flamethrower, leaning against Araneth to catch her breath. As she hears Telinda's call. She straightens and peers over towards the pair.
K'tor lands hard enough to stagger, though he quickly regains his feet. His voice is hoarse, though he bellows, "Wingleaders and seconds! Report after seeing to your wing!" He has to fight for breath after that bellow, and leans against Albanth for a moment afterwards.
In the northern sky, Brielth emerges from Between with a blast of cold air!
Telinda grasps out for purchase, using her lifemate's leg, "Joslyn, get your butt over here now! Not tomorrow, not next sevenday, now!"
Remarra slips her thrower off, patting Hannenth's shoulder and murmuring to the gold for a mment. Then she strides forward, giving Belira a hand and waving toward Aithne. "Good job, youngster!"
Stella leans - well, more like slumps - against Reanth, after thouroughly checking him over.
Joslyn gets her butt over there now! Well, not NOW, but as fast as she can possibly manage to scurry and not wind up somersaulting on the way. "What? It was an accident! I got it working again!" Gee, is it obvious where her mind is presently? "I'll get it fixed straightaway." Huffing a bit, she comes up beside Telinda.
In the northern sky, Brielth flies toward the broad Landing Field below.
Brielth soars over from the sky above.
Aithne is distracted from watching the other golds by Remarra's remarks. Her grin is bright against her soot-darkened face. "Thank you." She says quietly, "I don't think I even paused to breath."
In the northern sky, Iesath emerges from Between with a blast of cold air!
Remarra nods slowly, brushing her hair back from her face. "I usually avoid worrying about that myself."
Albanth's eyes are wheeling red and orange. The bronze is clearly as furious as his rider. The one whose lips are only just beginning to turn white after that lovely blue color. He starts through the ranks of Skyfury, checking over injuries and tired dragons.
L'mir swings his leg over Brielth's neck then slides down the bronze's side, pausing to give him an affectionate pat.
In the northern sky, Iesath bugles as she arrives, circling towards the landing field, her rider, and passangers, in tow.
In the northern sky, Iesath flies toward the broad Landing Field below.
There's a vein ticking at Telinda's temple as she ignores Joslyn's explanations, then points upwards to Tiarnath's side, where it's clear thread managed to score through the straps enough to injure the gold. Barely is the Senior rider keeping her lifemate from broadcasting the pain from the injury that's leaking ichor down her shoulder. "Deal. With. It."
Kayjay is more than a bit shakey as she sees how close so many of her wing came to serious injury. Again with the deep breathing as she does everything in her power -not- to look in Cloudchases' direction. She gestures a pale brownrider over to the healers, sticks a wineskin in the hand of a bronzerider who looks ready to pounce on another rider and shouts out. "Good fall, Firedance!"
From behind Auralia on Iesath's 'ridges, Tahren takes a moment to remember how to breathe, then rapidly unstraps himself and scrambles down from Iesath, then holds his arms up to help the smaller girl down.
From her spot between her lifemate's 'ridges, Auralia unstraps herself, suddenly far more silent and less smiling to her passangers as she surveys the scene in front of her. Iesath indicates her head, peering towards a certain brown Ghorth, who appears uninjuried -- thank goodness for Aura's sanity -- and the rider removes herself, stiffly.
Remarra immediately strides toward Telinda, looking as though she might pull Aithne with her. "Need me to do something, Tel?" she asks softly, serious for once.
Albanth roars as Cloudchase's wingleader appears on the scene, and then turns his baleful look to Brielth as well as the bronze lands. Albanth seems ready to rake both of them, and instead settles for fixing them both with those red eyes, tail twitching madly.
Imara dismounts, then hearing K'tor's order, quickly checks her wing. "Everyone okay?" After hearing a chorus of affirmatives, she jogs over to the Weyrleader. "Sir, Starflame came back intact. There were some ashburns, but thankfully no Threadscores," she reports.
Aithne removes her helmet and goggles, sighing with relief. "I don't think I knew what to expect...." Her voice trails off as she follows after Remarra. Just watching for now.
Kayjay passes by Suriath, slapping him affectionately and winks. "Calm down dear, we are all alright." One glanceTelinda's way erases that calm facade. She continues on her way to K'tor, knees slightly knocking as she goes.
Telinda nods to Remarra, "Get Hannenth to help with the pain, I don't know how much longer before I pass out from it!" She stretches out a hand, aiming for the other goldrider's shoulder, "And I need something for my foot! Numbweed, preferably a huge pail I can stick my sharding foot in!"
L'mir immediately peruses Brielth's side where the Thread scored him. Seeing how *between* aided the pain, he leaves the bronze to walk, no, stalk along the row of dragons and their lifemates. He says little, but for an occasional inquiry as to health and well being, then moves toward K'tor. He doesn't seem too eager to speak with the WeyrLeader right now.
Kayjay reports in that shaky wan voice. "Some ashburns, one green with threadscore on her tips, but other than thank, thankfully nothing serious."
K'tor nods crisply to Imara and takes a deep breath. "Starflame has earned a break from drills for the next three days. I'll talk to you tomorrow about mentoring Cloudchase." Did he actually say mentoring another wing? Oh dear.
In the northern sky, Enaeth soars over from the Ocean Weyrs.
In the northern sky, Enaeth flies toward the sky further south.
"I'll get the bucket." Aithne offers as she darts off to where she knows one is.
Tahren edges back slowly, rubbing more gray on his face, more smudging the ash around rather than removing it, then moves slowly out of the way of the riders and activity to sink down on the perimeter, giving Bryena a grateful look for helping the small girl off towards the healers.
"Deal with it?" repeats Joslyn, just taking a moment or two to gawk before she very promptly sheds those gloves in an errant heap on the ground. "Oh, shells," says she, and pauses to collect herself then says, "Something that starts with a V - lots and lots of ichor. This is pretty bad. Oughta clean it first, right?" This is Joslyn trying to remember things and getting nervous in the process. "I want redwort right NOW."
Auralia steps towards K'tor, Iesath curled up in a heap of green exhaustion. "All is well at the Hold. Groundcrews did well." She listens, eyes growing slightly wider. Cloudchase is not in good. "No fawning over Ghorth," she murmurs, head shaking, towards Iesath, "He's in the bad books."
Yishenth crouches in her spot, obviously not liking the level of tension in the air. She croons, her voice soft and soothing.
Bryena strides over to the Western Courtyard.
Remarra turns, holding a hand out to Telinda and eyeing Hannenth. The large gold swings her head toward Tiarnath, fixing the other gold with her gaze. "Hannenth has it, Tel. And Aithne's getting that bucket."
Kalirae comes running down into the field, looking around for Stella and Reanth...
K'tor turns his attention to Kayjay next and nods. "Two days rest for Firedance." The possibility of mentoring is not mentioned, however. "Firedance and Starflame did well. See to your beasts and you're dismissed." Angry gray eyes dart over towards Cloudchase and Moonsweep, as Monsoon and Nightveil make their reports as well.
K'tor leans to murmur something to Auralia.
Stella peers around Reanth's shoulder, looking alternately towards the Weyrleader, then the Weyrwoman. Still leaning heavily against her lifemate's side, worry for Tiarnath mixing with relief that Reanth was uninjured to make her knees too wobbly for standing.
Imara nods to K'tor. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." She quickly hurries back to her lifemate and her wing.
Telinda slumps a little as the gold's pain is taken from her, "It's alright, Tia, love, Josy's got you, I'm right here." Glance is cast, thankful one at that, to Remarra as she waits for the bucket, balancing on one foot.
Kalirae rushes over to Stella's side and touches Stella's shoulder.. "What's happened?" She seems nervous, a gut feeling telling her something's wrong.
T'las gets a small amount of numbweed and a bandage, wrapping one arm where some ashburns got the better of him and his jacket. For the most part he just stays by his dragon, waiting orders.
Aithne must have mugged a healer in the process of retrieving the bucket, for it is indeed filled with numbweed. Lines of worry mark her forehead as she slips the bucket by Tel's foot. "There you go"
Remarra just smiles reassuringly at Telinda, practically radiating calm, much like her lifemate behind her. "It'll be allright Tel," she replies. "There, see? Aithne's all quick."
L'mir's face is clouded and dark as he waits at what is his attempt at a crisp stance before K'tor. He says nothing, he knows what happened, that's certain. Best not to say a word, just wait for the axe to fall, hmm?
Kayjay nods, stepping back, glad mentoring wasn't mentioned. She grabs a wineskin on her way past back to her wing.
This, by the way, is the practical upshot to those beltknives riders are always toting. "They were probably shot anyway," says Joslyn as if apologetically, then very quickly takes her little knife and saw/slices her way through the straps nearest Tiarnath's injured shoulder. "I'd tell you to keep her calm, Tel, but I think you got that pretty good. And what happened to that stupid redwort? What d'we have Healers for if not to carry around useful things like redwort?"
K'laarn has arrived.
Stella starts, then turns and manages a wan smile for Kalirae. "Rea and I are fine, but several others were seriously injured. Tiarnath, the Weyrwoman's lifemate, was scored, but it's being dealt with." she answers.
Telinda flashes Aithne a *very* grateful glance as she shoves her foot, shredded boot and all into the bucket. A pause. Couple of seconds, and then she lets out a deep breath. "Faranth thank us all for numbweed!"
Imara picks up a wineskin and takes a long sip as she heads back to Yishenth. "Anyone want some wine?" she asks the Starflame wingriders as she sighs and leans against her lifemate.
Remarra smiles brightly at Telinda, nodding. "Feels good, huh? I appreciate that stuff tremendously." Her eyes move past Telinda to study Joslyn, watching her movements.
Tahren climbs slowly to his feet after several long moments of just staring blankly at the grass, then skims carefully between the riders towards the kitchen staff to start assisting with handing out wineskins.
Suriath rumblecroons his concern towards Tiarnath, even a reassuring caress by Kayjay does little to calm him.
Kalirae hisses a bit and frowns sharply and hugs against Stella tightly and murmuring to her
K'laarn furrows his brow a little, looking a bit charred still from the dust of flaming thread. He looks over the ranks of riders and combs his hair back restlessly.
Auralia leans towards K'tor slightly, and then straightens, heading towards Telinda and the other goldriders. A concerned pause follows, and then, a murmured comment. She mutters to Telinda, "... wanted... doing."
K'tor takes a deep breath and nods to Auralia. Albanth's eyes, however, are still wheeling red and orange. He rumbles menacingly at L'mir and K'run, as if honestly debating whether or not to eat them. He says to L'mir and the Cloudchase wingleader, "Give me your reports. And then after you've seen to your wing and cleaned up, I want you both in the council room."
Stella hugs Kalirae back, covering her with the ash that still covers herself. Murmuring back..
Aithne lets out a deep breath as she watches Telinda do the same. She steps back a step to keep out of the way, yet be right at hand should anything else be needed.
Telinda smiles at Auralia, "Oh, I'm fine" she adds, now that she has her foot in a bucket of numbweed. Hand waves a healer away, "Later, fool, can't you see my lifemate's hurt. Yes, yes, later." Concerned glance goes back to Tiarnath, "It's alright, love, I'm here, I'm not moving, it'll be fine. Really!"
Kalirae nods and smiles as she looks over at Telinda, frowning in concern.. "I hope she's okay.." She says to Stella, still holding her close.
"We have several injuries, sir, yes sir." L'mir would have given a more crisp salute were he not so tired that raising a hand one more time would incur more pain than whatever K'tor might do to him. "Several scores, a few muscle pulls.. and.." he glances toward Brielth, "a lot of anger and disappointment." He pauses, then adds, "We /are/ sorry, sir."
Auralia nods, managing a return smile of her own to Telinda, and, after a pause, turns away, sending a nod in the direction of both Iesath, K'tor, and pretty much everyone over in that area. But perhaps now isn't a good time. Eyes narrow, as she watches L'mir and K'run, and eyes seek out K'yae. Mm-hmm.
"Oh, give that here," says Joslyn irritably, seizing the eventual arrival of the redwort and squinting at oozing blood with a wince despite herself. "Shells, this is messy," she adds under her breath, then glances to Telinda just long enough to say, "Let's hope I learned proper, huh? It's that one that starts with a V, I think, so I'm gonna clean this up real quick." As quickly as can be expected, anyway. "And then put on some numbweed which *ought* to staunch the ichor."
Kayjay gives the signal for her wing to disperse.
Hannenth rumbles again, softly, eyes never once wavering from Tiarnath's. Her lifemate seems more content to divide her attention between Telinda and Joslyn. "Aithne flew well," she murmurs softly, an attempt to distract the other goldrider a bit.
Stella nods, keeping one arm about Kalirae, and laying a calming hand against Reanth, whose attention is on the ministrations to Tiarnath. "So do I.. both of them."
Tahren makes his way through the throng unobtrusively, handing a winesking over here, then there to the departing riders, then moving back to replenish his supply, then pauses near Auralia to offer over one. "Ma'am?" I've water here as well," he adds almost sotto voce.
K'laarn is checking over the ranks of Stormfall riders, taking inventory of hurts and injuries.
Aithne offers Tahren a quick smile as he passes by with a wineskin, "Thanks" She murmers as she accepts one of them. She turns her head back to Remarra, shuffling a bit uncomfortably.
Tiarnath whimpers a little, but is held above the pain by Hannenth's projections, her head turning a little to check on her lifemate. Telinda on the other hand is glad of any distraction, nodding to Remarra, "She did good" she adds, including the other goldrider in that.
K'tor's tone cracks sharply, "I'll give your sympathy to the other injured riders, Wingleader. They deserve it. I want to see all those not injured out in drills tomorrow morning at daybreak."
Brielth hears that rumble coming from Hannenth, drooping head rising to peer in her direction. He'd walk that way, but to be blunt, he's totally exhausted. Instead, he offers a soft croon gold-wards.
Kalirae nods and leans against Stella's shoulder before she continues watching the gold and those tending her wounds... and touches Reanth's side.. "Tell her that all of us are hoping that she feels better and she'll be ok.." She winces when she hears the gold whimper, and she nearly tears up..
L'mir nods slowly to K'tor, the pursed lips becoming an almost permanent fixture on that dirty, streaked face. "Of course, sir. They /will/ be there. Daybreak on the dot."
Remarra smiles faintly at Aithne then continues to hold Telinda up. "So--Hannenth has Tiarnath and Joslyn's fixing things up, K'tor's reaming out the wings and things seem to be progressing as they do." Rather morbid humor to this one.
"Hey, you! C'mere!" says Joslyn, beckoning over a healer who's just finished up with a grumbling bluerider. "I need that bag," she adds, pointing to the fellow's assortment of Healer-ly delights before she considers something. "And I need lots and lots more numbweed. And something to keep it off my hands." All of this, of course, arrives in a matter of moments as Josy finishes with a quick but thorough cleaning. Yes, she's going to be one messy girl when this is all over. But it's on with the numbweed for now!
Auralia moves away from the goldriders, towards the mostly collected riders of Skyfury, to whom she delivers a quiet chat, eyes drifting to K'tor ever so often. Injuries don't look bad, and slowly, Aura's real smile seems to be coming back. Iesath stands, waddles towards Ghorth, and collapses there, winding her tail around his. Twoo wuv.
Imara just sits by her lifemate, too tired to do much of anything. "Starflame, go ahead and get cleaned up if you've no injuries. And good job!" she calls to the other wingriders.
Albanth hisses quietly at L'mir and K'run both, before turning his attention to Tiarnath. The bronze blows through discarded firestone sacks, weyrfolk and riders alike to reach her side. Eyes change from the red and orange of anger to a bright yellow as he croons heartbrokenly at Tiarnath. His wings flair open and closed helplessly as he watches Joslyn.
Stella tightens her arm about Rae. She mutters to Kalirae, "Come... love.... and I... here... need... too... here.... go..."
Tahren can't help a brief, wan grin at Aithne despite himself, then veers away to stay out of the goldriders' way entirely after adding a few wineskins near them, a glance at the senior gold sending him shakenly solemn again.
Aithne can't help but look pleased at the comment, "Thank you" She murmers before her attention moves to Joslyn and her work.
K'tor nods to L'mir. He tells him and K'run both. "Go get cleaned up. And report back to me afterwards. We have some talking to do, the three of us."
Telinda grimaces, not grins, at Remarra, and nods, "Well, we're not dead. So things aren't as bad as they look. Never are."
You paged Telinda with 'So I get some numbweed on there, clamp off anything major, and go to with the stitches, right?'.
Tiarnath carefully extends her neck, but only a degree or two, even that simple movement pulling on the injured hide. She whuffle at Albanth most pitifully.
Kayjay strides over to the Western Courtyard.
Kayjay has left.
Hannenth doesn't even waver, keeping all her attention on Tiarnath right now. Remarra's eyes raise to stare right at her lifemate, nodding at Telinda's words.
Kalirae nods and hugs against Stella tightly, tears spilling down her face. She nods and looks towards Stella.. "Okay.."
L'mir replies with the proverbial "Yessir." to K'tor, then turns on his heel toward his wing. As he passes T'las, he barks sharply. "Well? You heard him. Get yourself cleaned up. Now." No, he's not happy at all.
Stella sends a tired salute towards Imara, before helping Kalirae up onto Reanth, and then following after. The blue sends a concerned warble towards Tiarnath, then stretches his wings for the short flight back home.
Stella hauls herself up onto Reanth with the help of a proffered foreleg, settling herself between the Deciduous Whimsical Blue's neckridges.
Slather numbweed - which makes Joslyn's nose wrinkle a little but she goes about it nonetheless, fingers catching ichor that proceeds to very tidily stain her tunic. "Feels better, huh? This stuff is great," she adds in what might even be a soothing tone, no doubt meant for Tiarnath. "You got clamps in that bag?" to the Healer, who just nods (not a great personality, this here Healer). "Good. Gimme those, too." Why, she almost looks like she knows what she's doing.
Kalirae climbs onto Reanth's back with the help of a kindly proffered foreleg and the straps.
T'las stands up straighter as L'mir comes back, salutes, and heads off to take a swim.
Nymath ambles toward the Lakeside Meadow.
T'las walks toward the Lakeside Meadow.
Albanth croons hard enough to make his bones rattle and reaches out his neck to twine with Tiarnath and support hers, so that she doesn't need to move at all. Distressed, his eyes turn to Joslyn, mutely pleading for her to make it better.
Reanth lumbers to a clear space, then launches himself back into the skies above.
Reanth soars to the sky over Southern Weyr.
Dragon> Suriath bespoke Southern Weyr with << Will she be alright? I worry. >>
From her pile of brown and green, Iesath raises a head at Albanth's croon. So loud, and yet, she adds one of her own. It's her dam, even if she can't remember, and her Senior Queen!
In the northern sky, Enaeth soars over from the Ocean Weyrs.
In the northern sky, Enaeth soars to the beach of the Weyr Cove below.
In the northern sky, Reanth flies toward the sky above the Ocean Weyrs.
Sorry, bronzie, but Joslyn's too preoccupied to go consoling every dragon in the Weyr. Clamp here, clamp there, and out comes the suture kit. "Er," is her none-too-comforting remark as she eyes the little needle, daunted. "Stitching, not sewing. Big difference," she reminds herself, and sets to at once. Here goes the stitching.
K'laarn doesn't, or at least tries not to show his great concern over Telinda and Tiarnath's injuries though he does occasionally glance in that direction. His brow furrows again before he continues to talk with Stormfall riders.
Tiarnath rests her head against Albanth's, a muffled sigh coming from her as she lets Joslyn deal with her injuries.
Tahren finally runs out of wine and water to pass out, and just isn't up to turning the latter into the former, so edges to the side to slump there again and watch from ash-shadowed, widened eyes.
L'mir reaches out to pat Brielth gently after making his final rounds of the Moonsweep wing. He sighs, then converses with his lifemate before turning toward his weyr. They'll clean up and be back, sure, but it's not something he's looking forward to at all.
Brielth ambles toward the Southwestern Weyrs.
L'mir walks toward the Southwestern Weyrs.
Auralia watches the dragonhealing process with a long face for a moment more, and then, with a firm nod to herself, slips off.
Auralia walks toward the Western Courtyard.
K'tor takes another deep breath, and snags a skin from a drudge. He manages to find a cup in the trip across the field, and pours wine into it, unsteadily sloshing it over his hand in the process. The red is offered silently to his weyrmate, as he shifts to offer her an arm to lean on instead of Tia.
Aithne glances over to offer K'laarn a quick smile as she sees him glance over, her helmet dangles from her fingers as she glances over to exchange a look with Araneth. The dragon is crouched, watching Tiarnath and Hannaneth carefully.
Joslyn's beyond a novice. She's not really even fully trained yet. But she pretends really well! Working her way through the wounds as quickly as possible, she does measure her breaths decisively to mind just how the sutures come out - even and tidy but not what can be called perfect. Still. Could be lots worse. "Don't let's forget these, huh?" she adds, handing the Healer back his clamps after a bit. "What's next? More cleaning?" Don't ask who she's talking to; you may not find the answer very reassuring.
Telinda shakes her head, "Not yet, I need to make sure Tia's fine first" she adds, though gratefully adding her weyrmate's assistance to Remarra's.
Remarra casts a cocky smile at K'tor. "Hannenth and I have been doing are bit." Even nowm the woman can't stop flirting.
Suriath lumbers toward the Lakeside Meadow.
Imara watches the Starflame riders drift away from the landing field, going to clean up and rest. Eventually, she pulls herself up and pats her lifemate lovingly. "C'mon Yish, you've earned an extra long bath and an oiling." The green croons, and with a glance towards the injured queen, lumbers away.
Yishenth ambles toward the Northern Weyrs.
Albanth keeps up the soft litany of croons as he watches Joslyn. As each stitch is made, his own hide ripples lightly. When Tel refuses the cup, Kat downs it in several quick gulps. He pauses and then says quietly, "Thanks, 'Marra. Is there anything I can do other than stay out of the way?" He pauses to catch his breath after that little speech.
Imara strides over to the Northern Weyrs.
Tahren finally pulls to his feet again as well, then, pausing to murmur at one of the other residents, nods thoughtfully, and heads off, reorganizing the grime on his face again.
Tahren walks toward the Western Courtyard.
Joslyn snaps her fingers with thought, taking up the rest of that redwort to once more cleanse the numbweed caked wound. "Er, let's get a bit of that off of there," she says to whoever, and goes about removing extranneous numbweed and, when that's done, finishes with the redwort with a scrutinizing eye. "Look, I really don't wanna screw this up, so that's decent, right? I mean, it's all safe to just finish the stitching and numb her up again, right?" Questions probably directed at Telinda or Remarra, or both.
K'laarn finally finishes up with the riders, sending them all off to get some well deserved relaxation before he too walks off but not before stopping b y the Weyrleaders, "I hope everything turns out alright Tel." He says quitely before continuing on.
K'laarn walks toward the Western Courtyard.
Remarra eyes K'tor for a moment then shrugs. "Just help me hold her up. Once Tiarnath's feeling a bit better, she'll be really exhausted." Her eyes move to Joslyn's work and she tilts her head. "I would think so." Her eyes move to Telinda for confirmation.
Telinda nods, "Looks good from here, Josy, it'll do fine. Tia, love, it's fine. It's done. It's not too bad." she offers in reassurance to the gold, "Estimate on recovery?" she asks Joslyn. Not that she needs it, she just wants to see if her junior knows what she's talking about.
Aithne's gaze moves to each person as they speak, resting in Tiarnath's shoulder as she considers it thoughtfully.
"All righty," continues Joslyn, running her mouth just because it's comforting. "No more stitches?" She really doesn't like that stitching bit, but keeps the Healer hanging around just in case. She does remember to coat the whole wound down again with numbweed, checking how the stitches fare during that process before she's really satisfied. As for the question coming back at her, she blinks a second and says, "Kick back at least a sevenday - maybe two just to be on the safe side." Her first 'patient', after all. "No flying or anything strenuous. Just wallow in the sun and be generally lazy."
K'tor nods to Remarra, and pours another mug of wine and has it at the ready for Telinda. He offers, "'Marra, if you'll take the wine, soon as she's ready to think about herself, I'll take her." He smiles tightlipped. "Not as though I haven't held her up before." Another deep breath is taken after this statement.
Albanth gives another one of those bonerattling, heartwrending croons, still supporting Tiarnath's neck with his own.
Telinda nods to Joslyn, "Sounds good to me, you did an excellent job. We'll talk later about the flamethrower." She glances to Remarra, "You can get Hannenth to let go now" she says with a smile, "and thanks!"
Joslyn starts to rub at the end of her nose and then thinks better of that idea, instead wiping her hands rather carelessly over the back of her trousers. "That wasn't my fault," she mutters grumpily, but tosses her head to dismiss the Healer who toddles off to handle some other business. "She'll be all right, right?"
Remarra takes the wine with her free hand, winking at Telinda before her gold relaxes. "Any time, Tel." She sips at the mug before nodding to K'tor. "Feel free."
Aithne lets out a deep breath as she slips back to Araneth, slowly beginning to remove her straps.
K'tor shifts to hold his weyrmate, not entirely swinging her up in his arms. He'll spare her dignity that, but clearly, he's ready for that healer to look over the rider now that the dragon is taken care of.
Telinda staggers a little as the hold goes, and Tiarnath rushes back to her mind, "It's alright, love, my foot is fine" she murmurs, "but I do think I need to get the book off. Kat? Would you mind?"
K'tor deftly draws knife and slices the laces through for the healer to ease the boot off as gently as possible. Primarily because the weyrleader's expression promises death by flaming if it *isn't* gently done.
"Wow," is all that Joslyn manages to say at this point, looking herself over and then taking a pretty deep breath. "That's messy business," is her blanket but not exactly brilliant statement. Now, to get her bearings again.
K'tor says quietly, "Josy? Thank you."
The healer gently eases the boot off the goldrider's foot, headless of the numbweed that's covering it, "Easy does it" he says. The boot slips off, revealing a jagged score from toes to ankle at which Telinda hisses at, "Oh my, it very nearly was nine toes!" she attempts to joke, though her little fit of lightheadedness sets her weight back to her supporters.
Remarra can't help a laugh at Telinda's words, nodding to Joslyn. "Good job, youngster," she teases, winking at her.
"Thank me?" Er. Wait. "Welcome," Joslyn thinks to return, tossing off a quick smile to the Weyrleader that very soon becomes a grin toward Telinda. "It's fun. You should try it sometime. Makes for a good conversation-starter." Wrinkling her nose at Remarra, she adds, "Youngster. Pft."
K'tor's jaw sets again, and he shifts. "That's it. Down you go." Telinda is swung up into his arms, and he sits on Albanth's tail, which curves back around to meet with him. Weyrwoman is put into his lap, and he holds her firmly, catching his breath once more through a tight jaw.
Aithne chews her lip, her face paling slightly as she spots Tel's foot. "Maybe we should make it an tradition, all goldriders lose a toe at some point in their lives?" A rather weak attempt at humour, perhaps.
Remarra eyes Aithne for a moment. "Well, you can go next. I'm not ready to."
The healer quickly, and deftly, examines the goldrider's foot, but thankfully it seems the boot caught most of it, and so he just wraps it in a bandage, "Now, you're to keep off that foot. You hear me?"
Tickled into another happy laugh, Joslyn tells Aithne, "I'll show you how it's done if you're interested. We could do it right now if you wanna." That last comes across almost jubilant. She's unwinding now. Too much stress for one day.
"But there must be a minimum of two turns between each lose or attempt," Aithne hastily amends. "We need to wait a few turns."
Telinda hisses through clenched teeth, "Josy, you are not teaching Aithne how to use her crossbow. Only Remarra or myself are doing that. I don't want her shooting her toe off, not yet at any rate!"
K'tor gives Aithne a strained smile and then assures Tel, "Not in the next sevenday you aren't. Let Marra do it." He looks up to the goldrider, enlisting her aid in keeping his weyrmate off her feet.
Telinda bats at K'tor's arms, "Okie, you can let me up now" she remarks, the healer ignored of course, "I can limp home!"
Mock dejection comes to the surface when Joslyn says, "I was gonna shoot off the toe *for* her, though." She kicks at the ground, probably with her four-toed foot. "I hope your dragon's a better patient than you are, Tel," she adds with a half-frown.
"Remarra has that under control. Telinda." Aithne reassures her while very maturely thppptting Josy.
K'tor does nothing of the kind, instead shifting her in his grip, much as he might Katelin. "I'm carrying you, or I'll make the healer get you a cane. Come to think of it, a cane's a good idea. Aithne, would you mind finding one for me?" Nevermind the trouble that's likely to get him in when she decides to beat him with it.
Remarra eyes the whole lot of them for a moment. "Aithne's my special pupil," she informs the bunch. "And since these crossbows are my idea...." K'tor gets a wink.
K'tor notes in an aside to Josy, "She's a *terrible* patient. And of course she won't admit it."
"Aye. One Cane." Aithne replies before offering Remarra a relieved smile and then off she goes, in search of a cane.
Telinda snorts, "I *am* not. I'm a loving patient. Heh, I'm not having a cane! I can walk, just put me down!"
Aithne walks toward the Lakeside Meadow.
Remarra just eyes Telinda sternly. "Healer's orders. I won't take no for an answer."
Joslyn chooses this particular moment to make her own escape, ducking off through the courtyard a few paces after Aithne. "I think something cold is in order," is her explanation as she tromps off toward the weyrhall.
You walk toward the Lakeside Meadow.