==== February 11, 2014
==== Danorath, Nadeeth
==== Nadeeth pays a social call on a stoic blue and much is discussed.

Who Danorath, Nadeeth
What Nadeeth plays a social call on a stoic blue and much is discussed.
When Reaching before and after [[[log:pretty-pretty-princess | Pretty Pretty Princess
Where Star Stones

nadeeth_default.jpg ice3.jpg

Star Stones
The climb up here on foot is steep, narrow stone steps carved high into the sandstone, and from the top the precipice-drop to the jagged-craggy stones far, far below is treacherous. It's a wide sweep of ledge, a dragonlength and a half jutting out from a rough cliff wall. The wind here is ceaseless, dusty-dry during daytimes and biting at night. But for those who brave the climb to this lookout perched high above the Weyr's bowl, the view from these sandy-red rocks is breathtaking. Igen stretches wide-wide-wide around, a vast expanse of deep blue lake and lush green swamp and the myriad rust-rich colours of desert and rock. The real purpose of this spot, though, is highlighted not in its view of what is below but its view of what is above. Three tall rocks stand, one balanced across the tops of the other two, at the focal point of the ledge, perpetually framing one slice of the desert sky beyond.

Cold blue hues that darken as they lengthen over stocky frame and thick musculature are warmed as the last rays of daylight spread their final touch over the world. Danorath watches from his perch up high, faceted eyes ablaze with sunset’s flair.

Upwards dancing in the cooler air floats Nadeeth. Dark emerald hide blends well into the shadows forming as the sun flees this side of the world allowing the temeratures to spiral even lower than their day-time high. Not icy by any means, but the chill is enough to finally send the little green in search of company. A familiar sea blue catches her fancy and she takes her flight towards the star stones and their comfortable pearch. Remaining above she rolls out a careful ribbon in greeting, seeking ocean breezes with inquiry- may she approach?

A quick snap of ocean-fed wind greets that tentative ribbon, laying out a stretch of welcoming breeze. Tide-crested muzzle tilts just slightly, bringing more of the darkening sky into view as he looks for the ribbon’s owner.

With the wecome giving Nadeeth twirls downwards to gently land yards away from the blue. Wings are settled as a lady might her knitting before she paces forward to brush just slightly against Danorath. Inwardly the ribbons wrap warmly against the breeze. «Lonely.» She muses at the fact that the blue sits alone.

Danorath tolerates the physical proximity stoically, his mental touch much more personal. «Watchful.» The single word is returned with a strengthening of wind, a surety of motion that brushes alongside ribbons protectively. On duty, always. «I can see much from here.»

Undeterred by Danorath's stoic acceptance of her touch Nadeeth settles herself right next to him. The barest wing flick would brush against him and her tail lays only a breath away from him.. Lifting an emerald head upwards she turns her gaze to the angry pulsing of the red star above. «More pleasant to look down.» Her ribbons spin away to instead settle upon the colorful hangings of the bazaar in the distance where glows light them from behind.

Salt-tinged zephyrs follow those ribbons, interest underlying the nearly clear hues. «Exactly.» The bigger blue might not draw closer to his green companion, but he does sit in a way that makes the most of strong lines and muscular curves, an innate sense that goes deeper than conscious thought wanting to make a good impression. «I watch and learn. Who comes. Who goes.» The slightest rustle goes through wings that darken to the blue-black of deep sea fathoms, his final words flowing on a flippant turn of winds that hint at a lighter humor. «The open air is not bad up here either.»

If dragons can be cuddle bugs, Nadeeth would be the first on the line to put her application in. If she wasn’t sure he would object she would move that last breath to lean against him against the chill of the night. She admires the lines of the blue beside her for a long moment, then turns her gaze back to the world beyond. Her entire frame lowers to the ground and she lays her head upon the chilly stone. Weaving together her ribbons form a living tapestry the weaving which moves swiftly along from scene to scene, sharing what the green observes. There is an openness to her sharing, as if she is hiding nothing at all that the blue might find of interest. Wing formations and drills as well as simpler, more pedestrian images of women chattering under a colorful awnings whip through their shared mind link. Behind it all is the steady hum of the loom at work, perfect serenity met for just a moment here upon the star stones. «Cleaner still above.» Swirling away from the swirling images curls a sky-blue ribbon, ticking the depths of that sea-blue with a slight cascade of fuzzball laughter.

Danorath observes, and takes note, the imagery passed on from the emerald green logged away in neatly organized files of information, catalogued and labled: This is Nadeeth. Her openness is appealing, letting him leave his naturally suspicious nature behind and draw on simple curiosity. Due diligence is a convenient excuse. Drawn by the ripple of bubbly ribbons his head turns slightly toward her even though he doesn’t need to see her to communicate. «You seem good. Is everything better now?» The reference to the most recent fighting between their riders that left him worried for the delicate green is framed in whorls of dappled blue; darker for uncertainty, lighter for hope.

«Better?» Nadeeth is confused by the sudden question,, her fuzzballs popping as suddenly as they had appeared. «There is always good.» With his attention shifted away from her mind imagery she slows the images, wrapping the lengths of story cloth to fold and be tucked out of sight beneath the gray silk cover of her basket. «You are good?»

Danorath’s head bobs in much the way a human would when in agreement only in this case it’s accompanied by a mental brightening of pleasure. «I am glad. I was worried about you and Yours. » More Nadeeth than K’vvan, of course, but Danorath includes him anyway. The blue may seem stern much of the time and hooked on the protocols of duty but he is always polite. It also doesn’t hurt ot do a little fishing since the green seems so open to chat. «I am very well.» Oceanic winds whip and whirl around his words with a freedom free from obstacles.

Nadeeth isn’t the fastest of dragons out there, but when the blue mentions her rider her mind ribbons pause, all movement suspended for long enough to notice, but then they are moving again, wrapping around the breezes as if nothing at all had caused them to pause. «Is yours healed?» Speaking, of course, of whatever injury it was which incapacitated the blond woman.

Danorath notices the pause, of course, but lets it slide for the moment, winds continuing to ebb and flow through their mental link with companionable ease. «She is good,» he says, using the word-of-the-day. An image of Erissa sitting on the edge of his couch and scratching his hide is cast in a warm sienna hue. «The numbweed just had to wear off.» A hint of violet sifts into the gusty exchange, wry frustration for the oddities of humans. «Why can they not get along like we do?»

Danorath hits upon the bane of Nadeeth’s existence. Her mental shrug translates to a phyiscal resettling that has Nadeeth’s wings brushing against the blue’s hide every so gently. «It is good to know she is well.» Silence for a bit as her ribbons twine themselves idly, finally, «He does not trust.»

That brush of wing, however slight, is duly noted. Danorath does not shift away, finding the lovely green’s proximity surprisingly comfortable. Sensing the distraction in those tell-tale ribbons the blue proceeds cautiously, keeping his curiosity to subtle breezes that duck and wind through them like fingers through a woman’s hair. «Why?»

The fringe of black that tints the edges of her ribbons seems to grow, the embroidery becoming more distinct as it grows and spreads deeper upon the green expanses. They move less confidently through his breezes, less graceful and more agitated. Finally, «Fear. Does yours not fear?» There is rustling in the backgound, as if something moves under the gray silk cover of Nadeeth’s work basket. This she attempts to hide, blocking the view with the twitching of her ribbons.

Danorath is quiet for a while, not asking more of the darkening ribbons but lingering throughout with a gentle warmth to passing winds. Danorath knew Erissa was frustrated by the skinny male that was Nadeeth’s and finding out more about him might help. Keeping his rider’s emotions in check was something the blue did often. And now, seeing Nadeeth’s bright, playful ribbons darken and draw inward makes him want to solve the mystery even more. He doesn’t push, however, but only coaxes with supportive trust. A chill edges winds of sharing, stormclouds on the distant horizon. «Not so much fear. She is angry.» Pause. «Why does yours fear? He is safe here.»

«Fear becomes anger. Anger is worse.» This Nadeeth is firm upon, her ribbons tightening into knots. Silk tears slightly, runs dancing their way down the cloth, only those black threads standing in the way of worse damage. The chatty green pulls back slightly, both in ribbons and physical proximity, distressed by the topic change. «He fears all. Touch. Love. Uncertainty. There is much to fear.» Nadeeth pushes upwards and begins to pace between the stones, claws creating a soft clatter as she moves.

Danorath can only agree, his mental touch flowing along the same lines as Nadeeth’s in mutual frustration. Great faceted eyes watch her pace, sparkling like stars in the night sky with the light of day gone. A soft rumble rolls from his chest in verbal comfort for her distress, though the winds that gust and twine and brush along ribbons are a much more intimate sympathy. Knowing riders to be a hardier sort overall, and also knowing that his own bonded’s issues stem from something in particular he wonders the same about Nadeeth’s. «Why does he fear? He has you.» In typical dragon fashion the statement is said with a strong whisk of confidence. What could possibly infringe on the bond between dragon and rider? Nothing!

The soft sound of hide scraping on stone is whispered out as Nadeeth brushes against the stars tones, twining around them as if they were a comfort object rather than the heralds of the coming scourge. Her tail flicks sideways; agitation still clear. Ribbons flick and roll, their thinness evident in the gusts that push them around. «He listens not to me. He has learned to cut.» The visual is glaring as each of those ribbons is suddenly severed, the lifeless ends fluttering to disappear into darkness which envelops them greedily. The stumps that are left are raw, their clean-cut edges looking sad as they pull back under that silk cover.

Danorath remains a solid presence nearby as the upset green winds around the rocks, his greater stocky bulk as still as stone but humming soothingly. The visual Nadeeth sends, however, stirs the blue to respond with an unfurling of wing and opening of sharp-toothed jaw. «WHAT?? Why would he do that?!» A protective sense of justice has Danorath instantly riled, wind-whipped ocean waves rising and crashing within a seething storm. To cross the line into the bond between another dragon and rider is not his normal modus-operandi but the stark cut of those beautiful ribbons is more than he can stand.

Nadeeth pauses behind one of those massive stones, still clearly visible, but stilled. «I do not remember.» She adds sadly, her connection to the blue a single spinner thread. Down upon the hard stone she sits, then curls in upon herself, all sense of playfulness gone between the unhappiness of memory loss and the onslaught of his violent storms. «He says it is necessary. And he still loves. But I cannot protect when he pulls away.»

«You are stronger than you seem» the blue observes, mental storm held at bay while winds buffer and billow supportively. «Despite all that troubles you are bright and positive. I would not have known things were like that for you if our riders had not interacted the way they did. That is good.» When the alternative is a permanent state of misery, such amiable playfulness as normally permeates the green’s colorful ribbons is definitely an admirable strength. Danorath keeps his thoughts strictly on Nadeeth, dark clouds hiding thoughts of stomping her rider into tiny rubble. Unable to stay reserved in the face of her sadness the bigger blue pushes to his feet and shifts over to where she sits, tentatively setting a cobalt wing over her hunched back.

Nadeeth does not pull away from the physical contact. She shivers just slightly under that wing before slowly pulling her composure back together. «He loves. And I love. It is fear which causes. Think not ill of him…» Whatever her opinion on her own strength is held back. Instead a single thread rolls gently through the winds, a lonely sentinel against whatever hides behind her basket.

Feeling that shiver Danorath leans more on Nadeeth, offering physical support to match his mental touch. «He should not hurt you if he loves you.» The statement is carried on a singular gust, his anger kept rolling in the distance so as not to upset her any further. «You should fly. Be happy.» Winds curl about that single ribbon invitingly. «Your ribbons should play on the wind. Not be hurt and hiding.»

«He is afraid.» She’ll defend K’vvan to her last breath, her words showing achingly clear how deeply she loves her grumpy and prickly rider. «He says it is for the best.» The shiver slows as he presses against her and she pulls comfort from his nearness. But only the single ribbon remains, she is not yet pulled from the desolation of her own thoughts. «I should say no more. Tell not yours?» There is distaste in her request, the green so hate secrets, but she knows that K’vvan would not wish the blond demon (has he has come to call Erissa in secret) to know of his particular disfunctions. «Please?»

«For the best?!?» For a second the clouds rumble and cyclone winds whips the words forward. «Hurting you is never best.» Pulling himself under control with effort the blue’s wings rustle and he pulls the one extended over the green back to his side. Stomping forward to the edge of the dropoff his eyes sparkle in the night as they scan the weyr below. Just let him see the one who causes such pain! Flurries blow over the dark basket of her thoughts protectively, no longer coaxing her out but instead offering the safety of a guardian.

Nadeeth’s urgent request redirects his attention, though he doesn’t leave his post. Sea-splashed neck turns slightly, just enough to bring her into the edge of his view. «If she understood him maybe he would not make her so angry. They could get along and he would not snap at you.»

The emerald green follows the blue at a creeping pace, her normal swift grace left sitting at the wayside in her agitation. «Do not be mad…» But he is, and the emotionally sensitive green can tell clearly. She has seen emotions which whirl as the blue does- is her love and mate not K’vvan? She stops just short of the blue and the edge not reaching out to touch him now that Danorath has moved himself away from the touch. «He does not wish to see yours. Understanding would not help; would not make it any better. I should not have spoken.» Her ribbon shrinks again to the single thread, her whisper. «I am sorry.»

«You should be mad!» Danorath insists. «It is not right to treat you that way!» He might have pulled away physically, a fierce loyalty and sense of justice slamming ichor through his veins, but mentally his fierce winds create a cone of safety, the eye of the storm, a place calm and quiet and peaceful just for her. «Do not be sorry. You reach out. You make things right. It is not your fault if he chooses to close himself off instead.»

«It is not his fault.» Something in Danorath’s tone has pulled the stubbornness right out of Nadeeth. The stubbornness that caused her to dig in and refuse to move even as a hide-scalding sandstorm moved in; the stubbornness which causes her to love her lifemate despite anything he might say or do. She will not leave till he agrees! A hint of that steel is shown as her ribbon widens and thickens- less silk and more rough canvas now. «He has reasons. And others agree.» The exact details might escape Nadeeth at the moment, what those reasons are, but they are there and she knows what they are.

Danorath recognizes the stubborn streak that creeps into Nadeeth’s tone and regrets the change to rougher, canvas ribbons. Her loyalty is admirable, on that he can agree. But it makes him sad to see her unhappy, just as it does whenever Erissa is upset. The calm of his mental envelope continues, a resigned breeze permeating the silence. «There is never a reason to hurt the ones you love.» the blue concludes softly. He can’t imagine who would agree to such a thing, but doesn’t want to distress the lovely green any further so grows quiet, letting a companionable warmth fill the connection

Nadeeth is caught between a rock and a hard place. On one side, yes. The truth of his words vibrates along her lengths of ribbon. But the other… her utter and total loyalty to K’vvan has her searching for some meaning in the mess. «I have made you sad.» A statement of fact. «I am sorry.» Rising from her crouch she flings herself into the sky, wings pushing against the thick night air. For a moment she stands silhouetted by the red star, her hide looking almost black as the red light surrounds her.

Danorath is surprised when Nadeeth launches from the ledge and torn as to what to do. The stoic, duty-bound part of him says to give her space and let her go. He has no special claim on her or her affections. But another part lifts his haunches and flutters his wings partially open with the urge to grab the wind and fly after her. That part sees the red-limned image in the sky and feels the burn of her pain through their connection. «I am only sad because I miss your cheerful ribbons. That is who you are.»

The simple act of hitting the skies does help. Nadeeth’s ribbons remain black tinged, rough and less than playful. But they also relax, just a touch. Reaching backwards they wrap around breezes and gently tug. In the sky there was no room for sadness, for fear, for anger, for pain. The sky holds freedom from all. Her invitation is left fully open to the blue to accept for not; for the green she cups the air, spinning slowly as she clears her mind of all but the thoughts of the blue sky and what dance she wishes to do next.

Danorath isn’t much for aerial antics for the simple pleasure of it, he enjoys them as a means to an end; a perfectly executed turn that flames a clump of Thread to ashes, an expertly efficient dive that cleanly pounces on prey and snaps it’s neck, a elegant twist and turn of tail that catches a green in flight. But this time it is Nadeeth that draws him from the edge of indecision and two quick steps forward drop him into the open sky where wings that were already prepped for flight snap to full width and fill with the night-time air. Those inviting ribbons are followed, mental connection kept, as he physically follows the emerald green through a web of shadows and stars.

Nadeeth keeps her distance for once as she flies, rather than attempting to draw close to the blue. Wings cup the air as she spins in wide turns that eat up the night sky. Several times her shadowed form crosses before the red star’s baleful glare. Though the carefree lightness does not return to those mental ribbons of hers- they do seem to settle, their agitated twitching moving back to a more natural flow. Flight does what speech cannot when it comes to her mental preoccupation with the dysfunctional antics of her rider.

At first Danorath makes a conscious effort to keep Nadeeth in visual sight, but as the joy of flight begins to settle into his bones he relies more on their mental bond to keep tabs on her condition and let the ebb and flow of nocturnal drafts caress his stocky frame instead. Easing from one gusting thermal to another he dips and soars, making wide circles as well as tight turns. Seeing the green’s elegant form framed by the Red Star he lifts his head in a bellow of appreciation. Energy and strength flow through sea-born zephyr's that encourage tentative ribbons to join the dance.

Nadeeth has nothing against sounds. Kehmath’s are copied whenever possible, though usually only in the company of the larger green. Danorath’s bellow is met with a soft purr, her murr only just audible. Cutting through the air the small green draws closer to the blue, though she does not brush against him, yet. Ribbons gain slight liveliness as they stream through the breezes keeping close tabs on his movements. When the sapphire blue turns Nadeeth joins, mimicking his movements through the air.

Danorath catches the mimicry and is amused, a slight whip of gusty wind twirling through the ribbons that flutter outward. Cutting upward suddenly, he banks into a sharp roll and comes around in a tight circle, bending his neck in Nadeeth’s direction once he’s straightened out. Air pockets tweak the ribbons in a playful tease, limned with a smug purple hue. «Gets the Thread every time.»

Nadeeth banks abruptly as he rolls upwards, seeming to hang in space for a split second before she tucks her wings to copy his moments, reveling in someone just as quick as her. The turn is just as tight as a drill sergeant could ask for, and overlaid with a sense of utter graceful ease. «Better to be quick.» The green agrees, ribbons darting about the air pockets, allowing them to direct the fluttering that they take. Issued has the challenge now though, and Nadeeth lays an embroidered gauntlet down to the blue. «Can twist faster.» she playfully claims, and turns, almost completely upon herself to dart away from him.

Danorath rumbles in approval for her tight maneuver, mental whorls drawing ribbons out to stretch and twist in even more complex patterns. Twist faster? He snorts in dubious amusement, sure she can’t out-fly him. But then she’s gone in a flash of emerald shadow and the blue reaches out mentally in automatic response, strong winds reassuring that the ribbons are still there. When they are not only present but playfully taunting his winds whip and curl like a water spout over the sea. Deep cobalt wings that disappear against the backdrop of night grab the air and pull hard, throwing the stocky blue after his elusive green.

Fuzzballs of laughter ring out though their mental bond, showering the blue with their rainbow hues. For a moment those ribbons lose themselves in the cascade of colour, only to reappear as she again turns upon her tail, this time darting abruptly sideways and downwards in the air heading for the lake and its cool drafts of air.

Mental winds turn to puffs of playful air, blowing and spinning those balls of color in all directions. Danorath over-shoots Nadeeth’s sudden turn but immediately compensates by grabbing the air and whirling on his tail like a human would on their heel, a move his muscular, stocky frame executes with perfect grace. The lake? Excellent! With a bellow of anticipation he dives straight down like a boulder from the sky, trying to make up a few seconds on her head start. As soon as the cooler air blasts up from below he spreads his wings and levels out, darting over the water’s dark, star-sparkled surface. After a few moments he dips suddenly and splashes his muzzle into the water, coming back up with a fish. It’s hardly a morsel compared to the amount of meat a full-grown dragon eats but the hues of his mental touch brighten, proud of himself and slightly smug about it. «Snack!»

Nadeeth allows the blue to draw ahead of him, her quiet murr sounding just like laughter. Rather than copy his abrupt departure into the land-of-the-cold-and-wet, she skims right above the surface of the lake before allowing her wings to lift her skywards again. It takes some effort for her to pull her whole body upwards into the sky, wings working for all they are worth. Once in the air she continues her more leisurely pace, turning in wide circles to take full advantage of the air currents lifting off of the water. A hint of wistfulness twines grey thread through her mind’s ribbons, many of the fuzzballs beinging to disappear slowly. «It is good to play. Does yours play?»

Pleased with himself for obviously impressing her with his snack-on-the-go maneuver Danorath angles upward as well, the wide spread of his wings climbing the chilly updrafts with swift ease. He catches up with her as she flattens her ascent and shadows her wide circles from just below. Grey touched ribbons are given a buffering wind and clear vista like the wide open sea, continuing to encourage her lighter nature. «She is curious about much. Sometimes overly much.»

An image accompanies the reply, the colors muted as if seen through foggy glass, but the snapshot of a woman who looks like a trader is clear. Wrapped all in cloth from head to toe like some of those seen around the bazaar just beneath Danorath’s ledge, the knowledge that the woman is Erissa is shared even though only dark blue eyes can be seen. She sits cross-legged upon something waist high, judging by those walking by her, with the organized clutter of merchant stalls surrounding her. Danorath seems highly amused and patently tolerant of whatever she was trying to do - like a parent watching a little child do something pointless.

«What does she do?» Nadeeth inquisitively asks, though her attention is more for the fuzzy fabric that surrounds her. «What is that?» Though their link requires no physical closeness to work, Nadeeth allows her next wide turn to bring her back towards the blue. As she does her mind’s fabric shifts, widening and thickening. If he pays close enough attention he’ll see the similarity between the cloth upon Erissa and the new fabric of Nadeeth’s mind as well as an undercurrent of Want.

Seeing that he has piqued Nadeeth’s curiosity, Danorath tries to clarify the image more, his raised level of amusement the day his rider had donned the getup skewing his memory. Noting that the green flies closer he steadies his soaring to a steady drift as he concentrates on their mental link. The fog shifts and the image seems to separate into two with one that was over-layed atop the other tossed aside. Colors become more apparent, the lop-sided turban atop Erissa’s head an obnoxiously bright orange, while the rest of her attire resolving into her regular riding gear; the all black ensemble having cloaked her in cloth-like shadows initially. The smoother blues of a more complete trader outfit seems to have belonged to the female Erissa was trying so hard to emulate that day, whose image Danorath thought of with that of his rider. «She sought to understand another by imitation. » Sloppy detective work, at best, in his opinion. She was simply having fun as well. Tsk, tsk.

The turban has Nadeeth’s full attention as she floods the blue with questions. What? Where? How? Want Want Want. The fact that Erissa was doing something detectivy is ignored completely. That turban is hot.

It’s a good thing Danorath wasn’t attempting anything fancy in flight because the sudden barrage of questions that fill his link with the green whip salty winds into a whirlwind. «Whoa! Whoa! Slow down!» Exclamations are coated in shimmery blue ripples of dragonic amusement, like when a stone is dropped into a pond. «I do not know where she got it or what she did with it. That was the only time I saw her with it.»

Brief sadness tinges the cloth as Nadeeth considers his answer. But, not to be put down for too long over something trivial, she is back soon enough. «Ask? Pretty.» The pretty please of the ribbons as they twine together into large bows goes without saying. «If she doesn't need…. Maybe I could have?»

Danorath is more than happy to ask about the cloth if it will make Nadeeth happy again, his pleasure at seeing those bows appear apparent in the way ocean winds pick up speed and dance among them in tight whorls. «I will ask her. She probably has it. She keeps everything.» A slight note of disapproval tinges his tone at the last. His couch is always neat and tidy and clear of clutter.

Oh this Nadeeth and Erissa are in complete agreement. «Pretty should be kept.» Their wide circles have slowly taken them away from the lake, to now be right on the edge of the bazaar. A colorful flutter catches the green's attention momentarily, before she focuses back on Danorath. «Better to have color than not.»

Color, yes. Clutter, no. Danorath doesn’t argue the point, however, knowing already that it would be a losing battle. He’s had the same conversation with Erissa enough times to simply concede the feminine viewpoint on the matter. He doesn’t sleep in her bed so isn’t going to complain how she decorates it. The thought of his clean, comfy couch makes him want to curl up into it, the thought spilling over into mental imagery and warm satisfied hues. «If she has it I will get it for you.» A bold statement, truth be told. His rider doesn’t like to give up her things. But she also has so much she isn’t likely to notice if something she never uses goes missing. The splash of color, noise, and activity that is the Bazaar draws his faceted gaze as it often has when he lounges on his ledge above it. «Another good place to watch. » The sense of guarding rises again, like it had atop the Star Stones, the blue’s sense of duty twining with it eagerly.

For just an instant Nadeeth's ribbons lose all their dark fringe, becoming perfectly light and carefree. «A favorite.» she agrees, though her mind thoughts are more focused on a particular corner arrayed in colors of all shapes and sizes, thicknesses and types. That is what to watch. The lightness only stays for a moment, when the her attention is abruptly shifted away from Danorath. The ribbons still then shatter into threads which reach out over the whole bazaar, and into the weyr. «Where?» is the abrupt inquiry, the normally quiet green insistent, the question is followed by a picture of K'vvan.

Between the stars above and the lights below, Danorath’s eyes are shimmering beacons as his gaze swings over the Bazaar. His mental touch is full of crisp, cool zephyrs that twist and roll in enjoyable agreement. But then Nadeeth is suddenly distracted and the blue cranes his long neck to physically see her better. K’vvan? She can’t find him? A dark sense of foreboding slips across his thoughts but he closes it off sharply before it travels the link to the worried green. «Ask the others,» he suggests, knowing the mental call will reach from one end of the weyr to the other via dragon faster than anything else. «We can look here. You go one way and I will go the other.» The last is a suggestion that includes himself without asking. Dipping lowering than he should over the rows of merchants below he scans for the missing rider.

Dano's words are promptly ignored as she continues to stretch her threads out to every listening mind she can reach. The answer and directions are not long in coming. «He is there.» The announcement is followed by a crisp picture. Cold stone of a ledge, with no protection from the elements. The thought is heralded by abrupt Acton as Nadeeth spins off and streaks toward the North Bowl, that empty ledge, and the minds of those she knows may help. Normally.she would politely brake away her mental contact, but not this time. Black streaked ribbons are focused, the blue left behind.

Danorath doesn’t see her go, of course, having sped off in the opposite direction, but he notes the moment ribbons break away to refocus. Not offended in the least, he would expect no less when her lifemate is in danger and as he turns on a leisurely wing toward his nearby ledge above the Bazaar his only thoughts are hopeful that the human is alright - even if it is K’vvan.

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