ULRIK! Wait! No! Hrykeluth would like to remind us that you are R'ik now! Hah! This boy knows his own heart, see, and he's claimed you for his own. No more moving to the Hold, R'ik, for Southern and Hrykeluth has claimed you… FOREVER. You will be chasing your tail - er, Hrykeluth's tail - throughout the entirety of your lives together, so welcome to the insanity! We hope you love him and want to squeeze him and call him YOURS!

Free Will Egg

No pattern at all to the tangle of colors mottling this egg, a dendritic riot of color as if smeared by a happy weyrbrat's hands into branches of sunny yellow and blue and orange that abut boxy hunks of murky browns and purples and grays, light crashing into darkness, curves crashing into rigid forms, all crashing one into the other and spreading, branching, with no design, no pattern, no apparent purpose other than discovering it.

You touch the egg's shell and nothing happens. You give it a little pat and look askance to K'lir and Hannah before turning to eyeball Rielle. Pat-pat-pat-pat; it is a particular sensation that floods through your body, centered at your fingertips where they contact the egg's shell. It's strange for you feel as if you could own the world: your life is patterned in a series of blocks and each block is a decision you made. You chose to sleep with the girl in the stables and thus open yourself to what came after. You chose to be close to your twin and live a life on the edge. You chose to hunker down and survive a life in the mines, the shadows of those demons chewing through your soul until you chose to be a better man and warn a woman of her marks in the middle of a dining hall where every convict was eyeballing her with the chance of theft. You chose to be the man you are and you chose the path you're on. In every heartbeat, blood flows and with that flow comes free will. The freedom of choice - not of opportunity or heights or rank. True freedom lies in the fact that there is always a choice, even if it is a choice you do not want to make. Before the grip drifts away, you see before you a series of choices: are they the right ones? Did you choose the ones that will lead you to where you want to be? In life, there is only choice. And no matter what, you win, but you'll always lose something in the process. The question is whether or not you'll be able to live with what's won… and what's lost. Ulrik… one last pulse from the egg before all goes quiet - what choice do you make?

Hatching Message

Free Will Egg shivers and thumps. The egg bulges and strains for a moment, its riot of colours shifting in the light. The branches that ensnare bend and wave as the dragonet inside seeks its way out, to discover its own path. Silence, a moment to rest and collect and then with one almighty push, Free Will shatters letting its damp inhabitant out into the world! At last! Freedom is made manifest in the birth of an ancient force when Summer's Wild Hunt Bronze Dragonet stalks the sands.

Summer's Wild Hunt Bronze Dragonet

Long-limbed and rangy: ash-grey chases burnt-umber across the sharp collection of bones beneath the stretch of supple hide to coalesce in the shaggy visage of wildness. Black-bronze sweeps across a large head with blunted, outward-angled headknobs that attenuates into a pointed snout, fan-brushed in winter's frigid kiss. Over-elongated fangs peek out over the shadowed-copper of a muzzle forever wrapped in midnight before spilling down his throat and across his chest in snow-touched burnt-umber. The rounded swell of ribcage and the padding of winter-fat 'neath reddish-bronze hide build the shadow of size while staying true to raw-bone power. Snow peaks jagged neckridges that fall into the length of whipcord tail with a tendency to drag. From ice-encrusted peaks, the long length of wing-bones are encased in tarnished bronze, glittering like metallic stars across charcoal-dusted wingsails. Mahogany caresses the underbelly where deep russet lights the fires of burnished copper to gild the joints of lanky legs. Savagery creeps into the hulking stance of suspicion, each wide-foot paw purposefully placed, their talons tipped in crusted ice; a wolfish reminiscence is held in the challenge lying in ecru-limned jewel-faceted eyes.

Public Impression Pose

At last! Summer's Wild Hunt Bronze Dragonet must Hunt no more, for the glimmer of raven-black hair has caught his eye. Without fail and without falling, the bronze dragonet slinks forward through the crowds, to the One whom he stalks. His prey. While the sleek, dark face holds an almost menacing air in the excitement of having found the object of his Hunt, all of that darkness falls away as something more comes to play. Joy: pure and simple. As Summer's Wild Hunt Bronze Dragonet falls at the feet of Ulrik, once convict, now Candidate, the playful roll in the sand gives hint to the duality of a life they’ll live together. And there’s totally a little nip at the man’s shins. Just BECAUSE.

Private Impression Message

A chill touches your spine, caressing your senses as the sands falls away; beneath your feet the pliancy is not sand, but snow. The snap of a broken branch falls to the forest's floor as a preternatural silence holds sway in a world held forever in winter's twilight grip. The shadows of trees rise around you as the forest shudders into existence, while overhead the twin moons of Belior and Timor cast their full and open eyes upon this strange and foreign land. A hint - a feeling - of watchfulness caresses your senses and as soon as you feel that subtle touch, a painful fist seems to cramp your belly. A hunger as you've never felt before burns through your senses and still there is no voice in the darkness. Indelibly, however, a name drifts on the eternal eddies of night, delivered in the soft rumble of a growl: « Hrykeluth. » Your own name is twisted and written in the snow-packed forest floor before your eyes, limned in moonlight and captured in perfect silence: R'ik. Thus you are re-made, made anew in the grip of winter's might. In the far, far distance the howling bay of a pack of wolves have begun the Wild Hunt that stalks the night, but you know in the deepest depths of your heart, that this is just the beginning.

Egg Inspiration

Free will can be chaotic!

Theme Inspiration

The overall clutch theme landed on the Fae Courts, specifically the Seelie Court for Khalyssrielth's and Denivoth's children and the Unseelie Court for Dhiammarath's and Dhioth's children. For your wolf-inspired dragon, the Wild Hunt seemed to be just perfect. They are a neutral Fae used by the various courts.

The Hunt usually does not leave its home on the Outlands. For it to go elsewhere, it must be summoned. To summon it, a powerful connection with nature is very helpful. This is why the Celtic powers so often use the Hunt; they are very in tune with nature, and find it particularly easy to call on it. Other pantheons also summon the Hunt, although much more rarely.


This wildness, the idea of being summoned, and of being apart from - and yet a part of - the Fae Courts seemed to fit perfectly for your lone-wolf bronze!

Description Inspiration

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The way the sunrise plays on the deep russet-red of the shaggy black-seeming coat is what caught my eye. The seriousness to the savage expression on snow-encrusted fur is what bloomed of his face, those brilliant blue eyes shattering the darkness with the vibrancy of color. His eyes will always stand out stark against the deeper darkness of his black-bronze hide.

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This is the challenging stance he bears, the eyes a pinprick of light set in the wide-shape of his face, down to the spindly muzzle with teeth forever exposed.

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And finally, this is what inspired the snow-encrusted coloring: because he is a creature of the shadows starred in dappled ice to alleviate the darkness.

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For all of his inky darkness, the shining metallic essence is seen across his wings, inspired by this. It's muted and yet set against all that darker bronze, it's rather striking. Like bronzen stars on a deep-velvet night.

Name Inspiration

Oh the names we went through for your Wild Hunt bronze! We went through iterations of Akela, but none of them seemed entirely right. So we started looking at the Old English words to give that ancient feel to this most ancient of Fae beings.

We wanted to hold true to your desire for Akela, but also give you something inspired by both the theme and your boy, himself!

So we started with 'hrydig' which is Old English for snow swept, which fits perfectly. Then we added the 'kela', to it and it didn't fit right. So we went back to your pronunciation of Akela: Ar-kay-luh.

This is how we settled on Hrykeluth, your snow-swept lone wolf!

  • El'ai pronounces it as: rye-KEY-looth
  • Arianne pronounces it as: ree-KAY-looth

Mindvoice

Crack.

Did you hear that, Ulrik? No, you're not Ulrik anymore are you? You're R'ik.

Crack.

Somewhere, packed snow falls unto the ground, the sound shattering the unearthly silence. Do you feel hunted? Can you feel the heart pounding in your chest? No, that's not your heart — or is it?

Snap.

These are the first sounds you heard when that moment coalesced on the sands onto a heart-thumping victory followed by the bone crushing reality that you are a dragonrider now.

Hrykeluth… Hrykeluth… Hrykeluth… his name reverberates through your bones as the bond tightens, connections made, the spindly silver tendrils of intent winding around you until all you can see is the endless expanse of a frozen forest of white-trunked trees. Closed in spaces? Think again, R'ik! Hrykeluth's mindscape is expansive: he is the winter forest at night and all of the enigma that comes with it.

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Hrykeluth is far more Khalyssrielth than he is Denivoth: the predator's chilling cold is his birthright, but unlike Khalyssrielth - whose snowy vistas are settled in the iron strength of her will, his is wilder, freer, more animalistic. You are his, now, and while you are not the prey in this relationship… he will stalk you like a brother. The bond between the two of you could be summarized as the orbiting of planets around a central star: sometimes you will cross paths, you know that each of you is there, but as winter needs snow, so then does Hrykeluth need you.

In fact, in those first days, you will feel as if you almost haven't impressed a dragon at all - Hryekeluth's aloofness will be disconcerting. Sometimes you will get a hint of a wolf silhouetted against the moon's light, but then he will disappear as quickly as you saw him.

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Does he speak?

Does he feel?

Who is he?

For see, Hrykeluth won't speak in those first days beyond sending his needs through the connection that bonds. While everyone is learning about their lifemate, you are chasing yours down. That gut twist? It could be hunger or thicktail - how will you know? The sudden bone-wrenching hunger that cramps your belly? That's probably hunger - you will learn to decipher what these physical manifestations of the mental link over the course of the first sevenday or so.

Those lonely, soul-wrenching winter landscapes of an empty forest will haunt your dreams, yes, but they are also so painfully beautiful that whenever you can prod Hrykeluth to open himself to you, you will wander these vast, empty spaces. Just touching the trees, leaving behind footsteps in the snow.

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In this, the Assistant Weyrlingmaster staff will be invaluable to you, because where the other weyrlings are chattering about their lifemate's landscapes, you will be having to hunt and chase down your Hrykeluth.

"What's Hrykeluth like?" A fellow weyrling will ask.

A glower you will give and stalk off for how can you explain that you don't know? Because you don't… until you do. And when that day comes, it will be beneath the full, midnight moon. How many sevendays have passed since you've started weyrlinghood? How many mindvoice lessons have you gone through? Sure, Hrykeluth seems responsive, and intelligent, but just as that fear starts to take hold that maybe he's broken…

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You'll find his vistas changing. Gone are the vast, perfection of a winter's forested night. An eerieness has creeped into his voice, but surely you will be okay with that. After all, you are kind of like a shadow, right? You'll find that the clear eyes of Belior and Timor have surfaced into his mindscape, held behind the stretching branches of leafless trees. The forest closes in, and for the first time you'll feel his presence. It is both strange and comforting, for while you sense the predator within, it means you no harm. It has watched and waited until now. Now, Hrykeluth has made himself known.

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No sound. No voice. Only the crack of a branch breaking beneath the weight of heavy snowfall, and the chill of winter wind winding up your bones are all that you feel. The cool spill of moonlight is all that lights up the darkness - but is that not the way of it? Is that not familiar to you, R'ik?

Crack: the branch snaps beneath the weight of snow, the sweep of a winter's wind chilling your bones as the days have passed into nothing more than muscle memory. « R'ik. » Your name, finally, whispered in the heated breath of a creature lurking over the shoulder, the eyes glowing blood-red in the dark. Hrykeluth has found you at last, called from the forests by your need. Your desire to know your bronze.

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If your life has taught you anything, it is that you are the predator that stalks the various demons of your life. Until now; R'ik, Hrykeluth is your stalking wolf. He comes to you on his own terms, on the softly padded feet mindful of the pitfalls and dangers of the demons of your past.

Yet, see, once he's found you - the glowing red eyes in the shadows of the trees will always be your clue that you've drawn him to you - he will always be there. His voice is growly, with more than a hint of heated, heavy breath and once heard, will not retreat into the absolute winter's silence unless he is angry. Extreme emotions: anger, frustration, rage - these will all chase your Hrykeluth into the darkness, the shadows of the link that expands like a foggy, winter's night. If you upset him (because you will, you are both strong males with strong opinions and it is natural that there be odds at times), you will need to coax him out of the shadows. What he teaches you, in doing this R'ik, is the engagement you need for the world around you. Never will he invade the other side of the link unless you willingly invite him in. Your demons, see, are your own to bear, though Hrykeluth will note them once as he howls at the moons that drift overhead.

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The shattering of ice against the dead wood of a frozen tree reverberates through the frigid cold forest held in winter's embrace. « You are not the same you as you were before. » Placidly and unafraid does he stare at the demons the man bonded to him has. They shadows that form the landscape, but they are not the landscape itself. « It is texture, R'ik. Not to be forgotten, but not to be clutched to either. » The rumbling growl of Hrykeluth's voice vibrates your bones and the damaged soul within - but is it damaged? For all of the rough edges, there is Hrykeluth. As damaged snow is made anew in the storm of winter, so too is the past left behind by the fallen snow of Hrykeluth.

By the time Weyrlinghood has ended, this snowy landscape will have become so familiar to you that you'll barely noticed it's started changing. As winter approaches, finally comes the dawn. See, R'ik, you cannot live your entire life in shadow and even Hrykeluth knows this. So the first hint of cold in the air will see light begin to shatter through the trees. Details come to life as dawn breaks over the horizon.

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You'll find yourself in a magical world that will take turns and turns to explore for Hrykeluth is vast. And within all that vastness, lies the essence of a dragon that's yours and yet… is as far removed as the east is from the west. You are together and needed, but you are not dependent.

It is during the winter months that you'll find the hidden hollows of his mind, golden-touched and laden with heavy, rounded snow. Gone are the winter storms, for there is only the clarity of the perfect Dawn that will last until spring.

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Sunlight shatters around the shapes of trees, golden at first until it settles into a soft blush that stains the show. A frivolousness has touched his voice, for when the dawn breaks, the puppy comes to play. « R'ik, » The growling gravel of his voice never changes, despite the tempo that exudes excitement. « I have heard there is a snowy place right here in Southern. I demand to partake. » Water rushes from a hidden source, buried beneath the fallen snow and far distant, the crack of a branch falls down to the earth. Even the ground trembles in the wake of his Hunt.


It is this time of the turn that will bring out that effervescent playfulness, but also the time when he truly Hunts. During the summer, he's dormant in the shadows, but during the winter, he basks in the glow of the dawn - but never will the day eclipse past the dawn. Forever is it held on that pinnacle moment where Rukbat hangs suspended just above the horizon.

Still, he is an elusive creature, using the trees to hide behind, thoughts broken like shafts of light behind a thin-trunked treeline.

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It is during these bright, winter's dawn days that you get a full appreciation for how vast Hrykeluth's world is. See… you have a lot to explore and what's been touched on here? Well, it's only the beginning.

As the first dawn of your lives begins to settle back into darkness…

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… There is still Hrykeluth there to stalk you, to drive you forward into the rest of your life.

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For you, R'ik, there is no past and no past regrets: There is only the future. For the dawn will come again, and with it all the beauty of the playful side of your lives.

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When you try your best but you don't succeed
When you get what you want but not what you need
When you feel so tired but you can't sleep
Stuck in reverse

When the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can't replace
When you love someone but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
I will try to fix you

~ Fix You, Coldplay

Personality

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When the last echo of Impression's howl, comes the realization that … you have the draconic equivalent of a puppy leading you around. And he's a willful little scrap of a thing right from the start. YOU think YOU'RE in charge? LOLOLOL. Let the battle for dominance begin!!

The first night, his boundless energy and playful exuberance to experience everything under the sun will mask the deep well of silence that comes from the mindlink itself. Like the young of any species, Hrykeluth is going to be naturally curious about his environment. And unfortunately for you, he has boundless energy. He will scamper back and forth between things that catch his att… SQUIRREL!!! Just kidding, Pern doesn't have squirrels. TRUNDLEBUG!! Yep, he will go chasing after whatever catches his eye. And it isn't just his sense of sight that will be involved. That would be too easy. He LOVES to sniff and lick everything. EVERYTHING. New shade of dirt? *sniiiiiiiiffff* New person?? *sniff* Pause. *liiiiiiick*.

Until you realize that through all of that excitement, there is nothing but the silence held in frozen trees and snow-swept visages of nature's cruel beauty. While you shove aside the worry that something might be wrong with Hrykeluth, you get to deal with:

Everything you thought of as yours? Gets torn up and chewed. You'll learn quick to put up the valuables.

"R'ik," one of your fellow weyrlings ask after discovering that you've put a high shelf in your couch, "What is that?"

"Uhhhh, well see… the last time I had my sketch supplies out, they…" You might gesture weakly to the shreds of coarse paper and hide, and the broken remains of charcoal pastel chalk.

The moment he finds his voice, however, is the moment that you'll have to deal with his … particular… demands. See, he has no care or knowledge yet of human notions of rank, so everyone from drudge to Weyrleader is going to wind up being stopped and licked at some point unless you get to him and sit him down first. And if you don't just let him get to know this new person by sniffing or licking them right away, well… he's absolutely going to nag at you until you ask if they will give him permission to do so.

Snow snaps. The trees shake. You sense more than see the running exertion of a young wolf's footsteps through the fallen snow. « But I need to know them. Nice people taste good. Bad people taste sour.» Each word coincides with the patterned footsteps you find in the snow, the rough, growly voice almost holding a yip-yip whine when it comes to… well begging. C'mon. Sad wolf here. NEEDS THIS THING NOW.

» People don't like being l.. it's rude to lick without permission. «

« Then ask. Can I!? Can I? Please ask! Can I, Can I, Can I!!! » He will play pounce-then-bite with you, mentally, until you give in. Or until you shut him out and then he will retreat. Silence will be your reward until you apologize.

One day, he is going to lick a needlethorn plant. Think of how fun that will be!!

But, he's soooooooo cuuuuuuuuuuuuute. He looks up at you, tilting his muzzle with those sweetly whirling calm blue eyes and it's hard to say no. Until you catch sight of a feral gleam of fang and a hint of slyness behind that blue whirl. Oh yeah, you've got his number because you both want to win this.

You will also find that as he is growing into maturity he learns best when lessons are presented as games of competition. Even if it's just something the two of you cook up yourselves. Like during that first flight? It will be a contest to see who has the smoothest landing or can glide the longest. He will insist on going last that first time, so that he can watch and wait and see what time or form he has to beat. Every time he wins his chest will puff with pride, though he won't boast aloud. He kind of expects that everyone is going to notice that he's a badass so there's no need to brag. His dominance over their puny efforts is -obvious-. But when he loses? Well, he is going to pout and sulk and be angry for DAYS. It will be up to you to teach him that when you lose, you learn from it. And you improve, so that next time you don't lose. He is always going to play to win. Now, as a weyrling. And later, as a fully grown beast of a dragon.

For all of that competition to show everyone who is boss, he sees his clutch-siblings as his brothers and sisters-in-arms. These are the dragons he will always be closest to, no matter which dam and sire's eggs they hatched from. Later on, his Wing will become a second family. And the Weyr, like an extended Pack. But those first 80 (80!!!) dragons are ones he will forever have a tight feeling of protectiveness and affection for.

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As Hrykeluth and you observe the bond between other dragons and riders, you will come to notice that the bond between the two of you doesn't seem quite as intimate as it is between some other pairs. You'll hear others talk about how their lifemate's know everything about them, and how close they are. For the two of you it's just a bit different. Like you, Hrykeluth often stands a little apart from others. And perhaps unlike others of his clutch he really isn't interested in digging up your past demons like they're bones previously buried just for the future 'joy' of discovery. No, to him your past is the permafrost embedded beneath you. It may have made you what you are, but he will help you become what you are meant to be. There is no need to dwell on what came before him; he may even buffer you from it from time to time, like a layer of fresh snow upon the ground. A reminder that what is important lies ahead.

And although his attention span is somewhat better than those first few frustrating weeks, you will still have to tug on that mental bond between the two of you from time to time when you need his awareness more focused on you. Or on the task at hand. At least, for anything OTHER than threadfall. This isn't necessarily a bad thing, as some riders find their dragon's mind a bit on the intrusive side. And the alpha tendencies the two of you have might otherwise lead to a mental tug of war for dominance. In this way, you both have that bit of distance you need. But, can always feel each other's presence and know you are not actually alone.

Unfortunately for you, there is one exception to this rule! (It's always the fine print, isn't it?). Once he has identified a the things that you fear, he is going to see them as a weakness. And, since an Alpha can never show weakness, he is going to push you to overcome these fears. He will be rather relentless about it, even if he is not nagging at you every day. Like, you know that thing you have about infirmaries? That's going to be fun. For while Arianne has already made the promise to come to you in a place other than the infirmary to see to any injuries your lifemate may have, that isn't to say that Hrykeluth is going to cooperate. The first time, obviously, he will allow this compromise. But the next time, he may just go to the dragon infirmary without you - but consistently ask for you to be with him. He's not unlike a Jewish Yenta in his approach.

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« All I'm saying is that I could use the strength of your presence. That's all, really. I don't think that's too much to ask. »


He will persist in things like this until he gets his way. If he ever does. But the first time you do overcome some leftover demon from your past? His pride in your accomplishment will rival the brightness of Rukbat at Noon.

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Hrykeluth will also, of course bask in his OWN accomplishments. And most of the accomplishments he will acknowledge are going to swirl around one central theme: The Hunt. There are several other predatory dragons who inhabit Southern's Wilds along with him. But, they seem to have a broader focus. Not that he won't enjoy hunting along with them, should they ever decide to begin armageddon and band together for some obviously mildly befarious purpose. But, your Hrykeluth has a tight and singular focus every time he goes on a Hunt. It's not just hunting to him. It's THE Hunt. Every time. If it is for food, he will pick one animal type ahead of time and only go after that specific breed of dragon-fodder. In fact, during weyrlinghood he will hate that timeperiod where you have to hunt for him. A predator doesn't require others to bring them food, shardit!

If he is hunting a missing person, a missing thing, a place to think undisturbed… it doesn't matter what exactly he is looking for, you just need to know that he will not rest until he finds it. It might take minutes, it might take hours… in fact, it might take days or weeks of searching. Aside from the time needed to rest and eat, he will be on the Hunt.And he is a veritable force of nature when he has his sights set on his goal; everyone better move out of the way or be swept up in his zeal. Do you have duties to attend to? Something *you* need to take care of? If the answer to any of those questions is yes, then it is you and your will and dominance that will have to force him to at least temporarily call off this Hunt he is on. The exception to this, again, being Threadfall. That is the ultimate Hunt. Every time. He is always eager to join his brethren in the eternal quest to vanquish their ceaseless foe.

Unless one considers an injury a trophy though, y'can't bring something back with you from threadfall to boast of your victory. So on every -other- type of Hunt, expect him to require a suitable souvenir of the adventure. Something out of the ordinary. If you find a shipwreck, he will somehow ferret out a piece of navigational equipment like a sextant that he expects you to bring home, clean up, and display. The rubble of an old, overrun Hold? There will be broken pottery of some kind there. It doesn't even have to be useful. It just needs to be transportable and displayable.

There are other, subtler things that you will come to know about him with time. Such as the fact that his favorite mornings are the ones just after a thunderstorm, when the smell of ozone is still in the air. Or that he tends not to go into any situation with an actual PLAN. The only plan he really has? WIN.

And the one thing you can always count on is the fact that he feels his first hard won victory was claiming you on the sands. For while your bond with each other may be unique, and you are both hard headed and stubborn, the both of you are at your strongest together. And that is exactly how it should be.

As a final note, Hrykeluth is a creature of family. His family first and foremost are his clutch-sisters and clutch-brothers: those of Khalyssrielth's and Denivoth's ilk. These are the dragons he is most playful with, will form the tightest bonds too, and will seek out if he's desiring of pack companionship. It is not that he doesn't see Dhiammarath's and Dhioth's dragons as family, he does - they are clutch-siblings - but they are like an extended family. You love them, but they aren't the ones you cleave to.

So be prepared to form those bonds as well, because Hrykeluth will insist that you get to know their riders too. Because you're family! And even should you not like them? You don't choose your family!

Hrykeluth is a blend of many things, and we think that you are both strong enough to have will to teach and train him, but in turn, he will soften you to some of the joys of life that you'll never have experienced without him.

If you yield, he yields - this is, in part, an important lesson for you both and as you traipse through life, it is one that will become the most life-changing.

"No, Hyrkeluth, I don't want to. It's stupid."

Darkness rides the dawn that shatters through the standing trees, lighting the snow in the most beautiful of golden caresses. « If it is stupid, then I am stupid. » Laughter is the music of falling ice, shattering branches and the howl of a pack of wolves far off in the distance. « And I do not think I am stupid. »

Hrykeluth is going to dance in the snow no matter what you do, but if you don't yield to him, he will not yield when it's important later. And after all, sometimes, when you go against your natural instincts, you find the most wonderful of experiences.

After all, dancing in the snow is the frivolousness that saturates joy into all of the darknesses of life.

Will you embark on this journey with him?

We surely hope you do, R'ik, because if you give into Hrykeluth, it will be a wild ride. Wilder than you ever thought possible.

Physicalities

From the moment he steps up to you on the sands, R'ik, you'll know you've got the world in your hands in the rangy shape of an overgrown puppy-like dragonet. It's not that he won't have the depth and gravity that your soul craves, it is that those first moments are full of boundless energy. Those first moments eclipse into days of energy. Where his silence will not yield, his physical presence will avail you of that patience that's forever just about to break.

The snap and crackle of a branch, the laden snow across a wind-swept frozen forest coalesces into something you feel in your bones: the drive, the need, the desire to run.

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Hrykeluth will have a suppleness to his spine that gives him an advantage on the ground. When in a full run, though, he is a loping creature that bounds to and fro and is more like to try and jump over a hurdle than extend his wings to try and lift or glide over it. He will have extremely powerful haunches that mean he can not only get away with this, his take-offs into the air will rival the most spritely of greens.

Not to mention, the grace of Khalyssrielth's off-spring is a nimbleness that yields hair-pin turns and quick leaping pounces that can take down those bigger than himself. And oh boy! R'ik! He will want to pounce-and-play with all of his fellow clutchmates. Even those who'd rather not: Nemekath is not going to be amused by her clutchmate's desire to pounce her EVERY SINGLE TIME she goes outside. Nor will Kabrianth… or Raveisuuth… or Lyracith… have you noticed a trend? He tends to pounce his female clutchmates the most, see. While he might toy with playing with those of Dhiammarath and Dhioth's ilk, it is these clutchmates - blood of his blood - that he'll be the most playful. So you better get used to it, boyo!

Because this is what Hrykeluth will want to do. He will lie in wait, and then… BLAM!

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(Yes: His clutchmates are the rabbit)

The howl of rage will be the only thing that alerts you to the fact that Hrykeluth has once again surprised one of his clutch-siblings with his desire to suddenly BE there and ON their tail or wing or body or whatever he feels he must play-bite at.

"Hrykeluth!" Oh how you'll yell his name, charging forth to find where you've lost your dragonet. Are you ready for wrangling, because you will need to wrangle him.

In the beginning, before he's found his voice, you'll feel the apology writ across the snow-forest in the soft spill of moonlight and the sense of his presence retreating… and when he can speak, he will wiggle out of blame by saying that of course the other dragon provoked it.

Dark and shadowed, the eerily lit forest shimmering in moonlight and fog rests in the cradle of winter's embrace. « But, R'ik. » His tone implies a lack of understanding, graveled and rough, growled through a throat as the gleam of red eyes peer from the shadows. « If they did not want to be pounced, then they should not have flicked their tail that way. » It is simple, is it not?

See, you'll have to teach Hrykeluth about boundaries. Especially, boundaries in the physical space. Not a large creature, by any stretch of the imagination, but there is power in that compact, physical body. As one of Khalyssrielth's hatchlings, Hrykeluth was never going to be the largest bronze to break shell on your fateful impression day, and even within his own group of clutchsiblings, he is not the largest. Of course, that is not to say, however, that he isn't the most powerful or imposing, especially as he makes up for that in sheer agility and speed. (It's not the size, it's how you use it AMIRITE!?).

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Hrykeluth is going to be lean and rangy, but with heavy bones covered by whipcord muscle. He will be neither too long nor too bulky, and his proportions are graceful in a predatory way. It's etched into every movement he makes. When he is moving slowly across the bowl it will be an almost creeping motion, with his muzzle sweeping back and forth and nostrils flaring as he ekes out both prey, and the other predators within the Weyr. And his tail, often indicative of mood alongside eye color, will be eerily still even as it is raised just enough to remain off of the ground.

From birth, his right isn't sleek power and innate grace: he will struggle against the gangliness of his own limbs. Think puppy clumsy with a strong will and a stubborn streak that even you, R'ik, will struggle with. You think you're stubborn? Well! Meet, Hrykeluth.

And he will looooooooooooove to cause a little bit of chaos. Especially if he feels he's being ignored. His golden sister, for example, exudes all of this golden, gilded nobility. So of course, the story goes like this…

"AAAUGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!"

Maybe you're reading or tirelessly cutting up Hrykeluth's meat, but that sound will send shivers racing down your spine, because it's a sound familiar to you. It's a sound that you will come to know, because it will mean that your bronze has done something yet again. And when you turn around and find him slinking out of Niatskivhiath's couch looking so well pleased… well, you'll know.

Because chances are? Ione won't be happy to find that your boy's chosen her couch to eliminate in.

Which means you will need to explain to Hrykeluth the importance of boundaries.

"You can't do that!"

Fog cups the bottoms of a darkened forest, gleaming red eyes watchful from the shadows. The howl of a lonely wolf baying at the moon yields a confusion that tempers into a whine. « But why? She just put those rushes down and they smelled so sweet, but I had to mark her territory as ours…»


"You… you can't do that… It's not ours…"

Hrykeluth whines. Does he understand? No.

It will take you more than a day or two to make him understand. It will take the entire weyrlinghood for you to school him on the boundaries of where it's okay to trespass… and even then? He's always curiously following the most intriguing scent.

Especially, when it's time to take to the skies. Your boy is a glory in the skies - not a beautiful flyer, per se, but he's striking. However, once he gets up there though, he is nothing but power. He has pretty much no finesse. Like, none. There are no fancy flying tricks, or loop-de-loops in the air in your future. Just plenty of G's pressing down on you as he abruptly switches air currents or dives and pulls up to meet threadfall head on. Expect absolutely no mercy from him up there either. Not for you, or any passenger that you may pick up. (ProTip: They should definitely never send the two of you to pick up a diplomatic visitor!)

Should you ever wonder if Hrykeluth's size will hinder his ability to catch the things that you - and he - desire? Have no fear, for as you watch him on ground or in the air, you'll soon realize that within the compact musculature of his body, that power hums in much the same way the really good predators are smaller than their prey. Evidenced by the way he hunts his prey: in a quick, clean kill before he consumes the flesh.

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He is, fortunately, not wont to eat excessively. Although he enjoys the hunting part of a meal way too much. So while you will never need to worry about him getting all pudgy and out of shape, you might have to worry about leftovers until he realizes he can bring an extra carcass back to the Weyr with him to either provide food for weyrlings after he is grown, or for the members of his pack that were injured during threadfall.

Now, if HE manages to be injured, expect him to deal with that to the point of ridiculous stoicism. You will know he is in great pain, but other than the red of his eyes and the stiff way he holds his tail, he will not show it to others. Only once the two of you are alone will he allow a 'yip' of pain before settling down for the evening.

On the flip side of that, the truly joyful side of your lives will only be shared with you. For you are his pack brother - even more so than his clutch siblings. Even beyond those first puppy-hood days, which he will eventually grow out of, you'll get a glimpse when he experiences something for the first time.

Seeing fallen snow for the first time:

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The first time he experiences rain or snow falling from the sky:

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Above all, R'ik, your Hrykeluth is an amazing creature of many aspects. Like the Wild Hunt upon which he's based, for every emotion or physical feeling that can exist, there is a wolf-like expression that goes along with it.

When he sees a field of flowers for the first time:

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Or when you come back to find all your shoes are CHEWED up:

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See, R'ik, Hrykeluth won't like you being too far away when he's younger (and to some extent, when he's grown to adulthood). But when he's a baby, well. He won't need you close, but if you happen to wander off far to get some alone time or to have that first bath in the living caverns?

You'll think, hey, fine, this is awesome! While your clutch-siblings are hurrying through their scrubbing, you'll be all male confidence and like, "Yeah, my boy? He doesn't need me like yours does."

Until you get to your couch. And see the UTTER DESTRUCTION that has gone down while you were away.

And his response to your anger?

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Seriously, R'ik! Can you even STAY MAD at that FACE?!

We hope you're ready, big boy.

Cause Hrykeluth will forever be a handful… but he will be YOUR handful!

Flights

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Oh, Hrykeluth. Such a complex motivation.

See, Hrykeluth will never be one of those dragons who chases after just any pretty tail. It's not that he's indifferent or lazy; he is a bronze of slow, deep passions and not every female who rises will stir his interest.

The greens, oh those greens. They rise almost every day, don't they? Where is the prize in that? Perhaps once in awhile, to keep up his reflexes, but on the whole, greens are like rabbits: you chase them when you're feeling like a snack, but there isn't enough meat on the bones to satiate the desires of his heart, which is to propagate his line. Of course, it helps that golds are the bigger game and thus the bigger trophy — er, well, is trophy the right word, R'ik? Perhaps, prowess, since he is not the largest bronze in the clutch. So catching a gold would be a feat in and of itself!

A good gold flight, on the other hand, is to be treasured and remembered, the memory buffed and shined once in awhile - and you'll have to remember for him. Even if he doesn't succeed, well that's part of the thrill of that chase, isn't it?

And if he does win the golden hind, oh what fun you'll be in for then. Starting with the moment after Hrykeluth wakes up, when he begins the duties of an attentive mate: to groom and cuddle and cosset until the gold is utterly up-to-here with his attentions and sends him out for lunch. He will want to be close to his eggs and be ready to explain to some goldrider and her dragon why your lifemate is crooning at her belly.

Should he win a flight and know that a clutch is in-coming, the end result will be the first time you don't have to coax him to you. He will be there in your thoughts and mindvoice - not rifling through your secrets, but watchful like an eager puppy to share the experience through your eyes as well as his.

The shadows of the dark are almost lit as if from within by the shimmering silver light of Belior and Timor, but you can sense the eagerness of that shadow'd wolf that pushes up against the mindlink, the essence distinctly draconic now that he's so close to you. « So they will recognize my voice when they hatch. » Hrykeluth is the ultimate involved father figure. (ghost clutching pains are up to you, of course, but hey. He might try to make it feel like it happens with a little too much herdbeast. His first clutch might result in him getting a lot of thicktail in his eagerness to try and round his belly out).

When the clutch is lain, you will have to remind him of why he must rise to fight Thread, to protect those precious eggs that he helped to create, that he has duties outside of the Sands. If the dam feels like taking a break?

« No, we'll be fine. I'll keep them warm. Have fun. Go stretch your wings a little. »

And all good things coming to an end as they must, Hrykeluth will depend on you to remind him of which ones he produced. He will remember through you each success they have.

Okay, so let's be real here. At first, he's not really going to know the difference between green and gold because he's grown up with his clutch-sisters (Kabrianth, Nemekhath, Niatskivhiath, Sahizath, all the others) and they are all kind of … strong-willed and girlie in their own way. If he chases green out of the gate, it'll be one of his clutch-sisters and when there are no resulting eggs (after all he came from an egg, didn't he?), the first question will be Why? to you.

And you'll have to explain.

And thus his love of gold is born - however, those first few flights are going to be… comical. Because until he gets his stride and power, Hrykeluth will be more puppy-like than big, bad wolf-like. In fact, it will take a few flights to get him into a spot where all of that power and grace and compact predator pouncing really works well for him.

In fact, if R'ik were a plotting sort… well it's easy to throw a flight if you just want the Hunt and not the Kill.

Of course, Hrykeluth doesn't need to know that right?

Right!

Thread

Ahhh, the hunt, the sweet success of the kill… This thrill, the freedom is what Hrykeluth was built for! This is when Hrykeluth runs in his pack, his wing, when nature runs its course.

See, Thread is the natural enemy of dragons and while there's nothing personal between Hrykeluth and Thread, it will just die. It's the order of things. If Maslow was Pernese, his hierarchy would involve Hrykeluth's need to kill Thread. It's just what he was meant to do.

And just as the Wild Hunt never misses its mark, Hrykeluth will be excellent at it. He has pinpoint accuracy and he never expends more flame than is necessary for a good, solid charring - such celebration is for after the victorious defeat of the Ancient Enemy and it doesn't do to be distracted mid-Hunt.

He is not the battle strategist nor is he the best at planning Threadfall, see your boy does it all by instinct. Hrykeluth can sense thread - maybe even a little more than his brethren - and when it's falling, he must be in the air Hunting it. It is when you and he are flying Thread, that the Hunter's essence truly shines. He is Khalyssrielth's child in the viciousness in which he pounces and dives for his kill. Sometimes this means you'll be out of formation or just a little bit to the left or up and down, but that's only to save someone else.

Or to flame a rogue thread clump.

Will you have to deal with the consequences?

It's going to take some work to overcome Hrykeluth's KILL KILL KILLL instinct with adherence to rank and order.

"You can't just fall out of line!"

Branches snap beneath an unseen wind that shatters and scatters ice across a shadowed forest. Red eyes loom in the distance, beneath the swaying twigs of a winter's bush. « If I didn't, then it would have escaped us and fallen below. » His tone, his thought, his delivery are all given in the growl of one who refuses to move, to budge, to yield.


"That's why there are wings down below!"

See, R'ik, you're going to have to work on getting Hrykeluth willing to yield by yielding a little yourself. The more you fight against him, the more he fights against you. The more you yield and become malleable to new ideas… the more he becomes malleable to these ideas.

And the end result?

The potential exists for you both to be the masters of Threadfall in your own right. Fighting Thread - this is your new purpose in life, and you should expect to embrace it.

It's not a life for the weak, that's for sure. Injuries will be inevitable in this line of work and you will have to watch your Hrykeluth for hiding smaller aches and sprains, inconsequential to his performance (or so he thinks). Pain is weakness leaving the body, right? And what is a little pain if it means the Hunt goes on.

Paltry injuries mean he can still fly Thread, and he will argue with you because he is certain that somewhere on Pern, Thread is falling.

« It's happening. »

“Wha..? It's past midnight!"

« THREAD is happening! »

Good luck getting him back to sleep after that.

Hint: You won't. He's a handful. But maybe you can keep him grounded by promising more Thread in the morning.

You just better hope there IS more Thread in the morning or else Hrykeluth will disappear into his frozen winter's scape and it will take you the better part of the day to coax him back to you.

Are you up for it?

We certainly think you are!

Welcome to Southern, Dragonrider.

Flavor: Inheritance

Oh, R'ik. Hrykeluth is his mother's son, much more than his father's progeny. The snows of his mindscape are plucked directly from the depths of his mother's frigid heart, and the will to survive against all odds are undeniably Khalyssrielth's influence. Yet this idea of getting caught and pushed forward, no matter what, possibly a touch of Denivoth.

Hrykeluth is a formidable force in the hunt, and that all Khalyssrielth and her sharp tongue and little care of the souls she disturbs with her words. Though he will not be as bold or as brash, the fact that Hrykeluth is more immovable than you are when it comes to teaching you how to yield… that is all Khalyssrielth, who has honed Bailey into the force she is today.


Oh R'ik, R'ik, R'ik! Did you think we would let you go? Ever? Well, we hope you've enjoyed all the bits of your Hrykeluth… he is a handful, but we think you'll be able to handle him! Of course, as always, this is but a starting point to your bronzen boy. Take any, all, or nothing of this inspiration as your own! Hrykeluth is, and always will be, yours to enjoy as you see fit! We do hope you've enjoyed reading him as much as we've enjoyed making him and we cannot wait to see what the future holds for R'ik and his Summer's Wild Hunt Bronze Hrykeluth!

Credits

Name: El'ai, Arianne, Yules
Egg Desc: T'ral
Dragonet Desc: El'ai
Messages: El'ai, Yules
Puppeteer: El'ai
Inspiration: El'ai, Arianne, Yules (and Hrykeluth)

Full Clutchmates: Bailey's gold Khalyssrielth and T'zaim's Bronze Denivoth
 

Clementine's Eye of Rukbat Gold Nemekhath

Z'ok's (Zolok) Death Before Dishonor Brown Varaeth

Keelie's Puritanical Protector of Innocence Brown Gruffith

Xia's (Xiamina) Illusion of Time and Space Blue Zafroxth

Hegiana's Heir to a Young Kingdom Blue Khenwyth

Halia's (Mahalia) Whither Way Walks What Wicked Green Kabrianth

Tia's (Tiala) So Say We All Green Lyracith

Ilissea's Thunder's Gentle Romance Green Minucovith

J'ran's Eternal Flame of the Sky Green Yerenath


 
Other Clutchmates: Hannah's gold Dhiammarath and K'ane's Bronze Dhioth
 
Ione's Sealed in Storm Glass Gold Niatskivhiath, Sa'mael's (Sammael) Wrath's Bane of Cold Iron Bronze Czhaevth, A'kehm's (Kehm) Until the Sun Falls Bronze Ahiardhath, Rielle's Hunter's Herald Of The Oak Brown Obhaeroth, M'noq's (Minoq) Cartographer's Ancient Sextant Brown Ravaith, Vi'ano's Waterlogged Wraith Brown Swyrrth, Loe’s Sleek as a Demon Blue Valmoth, Io'v's (Iovrar) Mistress of the Mirror Realms Green Ilhiannaevryth, Diya's Glass Frog Balancing On Solitary Sunny Leaf Green Kiyzenyath, Myziri's Twilight of Samhain Green Sahizath

Southern's First Double Clutch
Harper's Tale's 72nd PC Clutch
Southern Weyr's 4th PC Clutch