Who

Selaine, A'idan, D'ean, L'xan, D'har, F'in, Akitith, Hajath, Ozzeth, Nokteryth, Searuth, Rhakanth, Tavuqth (puppeted by Selaine)

What

Akitith rises on a clear, moonlit night. Even the Southerners have come to play.

Flight content. Some language.

When

It is evening of the twenty-second day of the seventh month of the ninth turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Lake Shore, Igen Weyr

OOC Date 01 Dec 2016 05:00

 

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He is gesticulating wildly.


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Lake Shore

Sprawled out beyond the Weyr proper's hustling activity and ambling roads, the cool, blue paradise of the Weyr lake promises escape from the oppressive hammer of Igen summer's cruel climes; the asymmetrical, sandy white shores hook delicately around the deceptively still waters running deep and sure, greedy peninsulas reaching white fingers stretching in crooked lines towards its center. A sturdy shack, weather-beaten and brown as cured leather, resides in isolated splendor upon one such finger, screened shelving offering a variety of brushes and fragrant oils housed in colorful tureens. Out beyond a small and dusty paddock ringed by a white fence, a long rocky pier stabs out into the lake, providing a panoramic view of the Weyr itself, while the southern shores provide varied shrubs and grassed for the massed herds in their pens.


Ah, Igen summer evenings. Always the best time for a swim, because that's when Rukbat isn't burning your skin off. Also, the heat isn't so unbearable. Selaine seems to be coming out here a lot more often lately, and she's here now, a little more than waist-deep in the water, clad in nothing more than her swimsuit. Her things are in a pile somewhere on the shore and Akitith lazes about on the sand, watching her lifemate. Her hide glows brightly, especially so under the moonlight. Right now though, she's calm, tail twitching back and forth like a cat.

It might not be unbearable for the people who live here, but for two Southerners (both who originally come from places with snow), this is kind of hot. Especially given that it's winter at Southern Weyr. The foreign Weyrlingmaster comes along, walking with D'ean and dragging his coat with him. "It's too hot for these damn jackets. I should have remembered, should have left it on Hajath's straps." A'idan grumps, as friendly and good natured as always. His dragon, which is not old and farty by the way, appears in the sky above. "Last favor we do for Tiglon." He mutters to D'ean, gesturing above. "There he is-" Or not. Hajath twists midflight and decides instead to hang out in the air above where a glowing green waits. "Great. Just great."

There is a muffled thwump as massive wings catch enough air for a flashy landing. Never fear, Nokteryth is here! Oh, and he bought L'xan with him too. "But you just had a swim…" Said bronze-rider complains as he clambers down the darkly bronze hide, goaded by internal promptings. Apparently Nokteryth really didn't give L'xan much time for anything as he is clad only in a light tunic and shorts, not even boots to protect his feet from the dangers of Igen's sands. "Oh." It doesn't take L'xan all that long to join the dots together. "Thanks." A brief salute is given to his lifemate, who now that he has arrived, is content to loom smugly within reasonable distance from the moonlit green.

D'har certainly isn't going to argue the notion of an evening swim in this lingering heat. The evening is when Searuth is most active, and it may have been his suggestion that they go to the lake this evening. The midnight blue alights not far from Akitith, a rich rumble of admiring greeting rippling through the shadows as he allows D'har to the ground. One glance over to the moonlit green reveals his lifemate's ulterior motive, and the trunks-clad bluerider laughs ruefully, tossing his towel onto a nearby rock as he approaches the water. "Of course," he drawls under his breath, giving a stretch of lean-muscled arms overhead. He drifts Selaine's way, wading in at a what seems a safe distance. "Good evening, greenrider Selaine," he greets his former wingmate amiably. "Seems to be an evening for many similar ideas," he notes, flicking a glancing to the unfamiliar arrivals - and Rhakanth - not far away.

D'ean is in the process of peeling off layers of clothing as he follows after grumpy A'idan. "Oh, this is great! Last time I was here it was winter and it was absolutely freezing. It was right before I came down with the firehead, was out at some ruins with a smith journeyman.. woman? .. Raila. Her name is Raila." He overshares cheerfully, tucking his riding jacket, gloves, and sweater under his arm so that he's stripped down to a lighter cotton shirt. His eyes stray towards the lake. "You don't actually *need* me to go with you, right, cause there's a lake there… and Ozzeth really wants to go for a swim and I couldn't just leave him all alone with strangers." He gives A'idan a curious glance though. "What's great? Nothing is ever great with you." He peers up at the sky as his own blue Ozzeth is trailing after Hajath. The much younger, healthier, and less farty Ozzeth.

It's a regular weyrlingmaster hoedown! Though F'in is all but done with his first… crop? Is it a crop of weyrlings? He and Rhakanth are down at the water's edge with a few. He is gesticulating wildly and, if the pelvic thrusts are any indiciation, it's a late 'mating flight lecture. Well, one can HOPE it's a mating flight lecture. "Oh!" He points at Akitith (Akitith, Akitith) and beams, "We've an object lesson right 'ere." He backs up and leans against Rhakanth, "Weyrlings, mind yer dragons an' how they're feelin' ya don' wanna be caught by surprooowhooa!" F'in pitches forward as Rhakanth surges to his feet, whip tail lashing, wings flared at the interlopers. His lip curls and he interposes himself between Akitith and the other males… rumbling low. Searuth is not spared his the showing of his teeth.

It's as if they can sense it — well, they probably can, and she's quite visible, too — that Akitith is quite proddy. Dragons seem to be popping up all around the greenrider pair, though truthfully, Selaine doesn't seem so surprised as D'har greets her. "Good evening, bluerider D'har." There's a small smile for him, recognition apparent. Her gaze drifts to her restless dragon over on the shore and then to the new arrivals. There's a look for F'in as his voice drifts over to where she and D'har stand in the water. "So it would seem." She agrees, chuckling softly. Just as the words leave her lips, an expression of surprise washes over her countenance. A sigh. "Shards…" The reason for the word is clear enough…

Akitith obviously feels that there are enough males to entice for no sooner than Rhakanth is showing his teeth does she lift off into the sky, sending out her challenge. « Let's see which one of you can impress me! » Luminescent wings spread wide, swiftly speeding off into the sky without even blooding.

A'idan turns to stare balefully at D'ean and say, "Nothing is ever great with me?" He's clearly the Oscar in his revival of the Odd Couple. He makes a waving gesture up to where Hajath is just circling them in the sky, buzzing really. "That green over there is going to rise." As they approach, they're eventually close enough to make contact with the greenrider. He appears visibly relieve when Selaine is a Selaine and not a S'laine. "That's something at least." For all of the strangers they're not surrounded by, he offers them a tight smile and a polite, "Evening." F'in shows up and he squints at the man's knot before plucking at his own in a silent 'hey there friend' to the other man.

Hajath is just buzzing with energy, the level of his exuberance evident in the flutter of his oversized wings. She takes off like a rocket and zooms on by, he should chase immediately! But he doesn't, instead the brown flits here and there in startlement. After obtaining his bearings gain, « A chase!!! » He's so excited, so happy for this opportunity, it's almost endearing. Beating his wings with an extra showing of strength, the brown takes off at remarkable speed to catch up with everyone who's passed him already.

D'ean side-eyes A'idan, "I meant that you never see anything as great, not that-.. nevermind." His attention goes to the green dragon and the younger man groans. "Ohhh.. shit." The bluerider trails after the brownrider, his eyes mostly on the sky and his mind wrapped into some fierce mental arguing with the blue dragon, but Ozzeth is of his own mind tonight. D'ean barely avoids bumping into A'idan when he stops, sidestepping and looking around at all the strangers. "Uh… hi…" He offers weakly.

Ozzeth is barely over a turn old and makes tight circles while waiting. As soon as the green leaps into the sky, the blue is fast to chase after her. He's smaller than the competition, quiet and focused, but not without eagerness. His blue, unmarred hide reflects the moonlight.

L'xan stands awkwardly at the shores edge, pacing for a moment or two before that dragon-link pushes him into the water. "Selaine." It's part greeting, part identification, and part awkwardly creepy. Through a grimace he manages a relaxed salute for the other riders, his competitors. Oh, it's on! If it's all about displays, count Nokteryth in on that argy-bargy action! Hissing softly he stands, wings and neck extended…WAIT! Did she? Oh she did! Recovering with a tumbler's grace his lanky hindquarters bunch and he springs up, wings working for that all important first down-sweep. « Where you going pet? » The scent of copper dances with still burning ash in the winds of his mindscape.

D'har laughs and falls back gently into the water, though his expression when he surfaces to regard Selaine is sympathetic amidst the incursion of Searuth's intent. "Well, at least she's picked a lovely time for it," notes the Blooded bluerider, his focus remaining mostly on Selaine and and peripherally on the others.

Searuth couldn't care less about any teeth baring going on, or the random Southerners that've joined in. He's too busy focusing on Akitith's every move rather than watching them…and it works in his favor, for he's off like a shot in the green's wake, bugling for the joy of the challenge. Beneath a full moon-dominated sky, small, dark fliers dive and roll and dart beneath the stars of his mind to play across the scapes of all those around him - distraction, and a taste of what he means to display outwardly for Akitith. Searuth powers upward, racing for the altitude by which to accomplish the feats she demands.

F'in ambles up to the gathering knot. "Uh, weyrlings, yer dismissed." He looks over his shoulder. They have not fucked off. "Off! Unless y' want t' stay around fer strays. Nothing wrong with gettin' some leftover legover." He hollered that last bit with a hand cupped to his mouth. For some reason the weyrlings skedaddled. He shrugs at the others, returning Ai'dan's 'sup nod, eyes casting over D'ean who smushes into Ai'dan's back. "Evenin' gents. D'har." And then to Selaine. Dear Selaine. He beams at her, "Y' weren't kiddin' she was close t' goin' up."

Rhakanth roars, his voice is harsh, unpleasant. But at least it's loud. If one took a steel drum full of wounded pterydactlys and shoved it down a metal spiral stair in an empty grain silo, one would have an idea of the 'pleasantness' of the sound. He rears and twists, wings giving a mighty heave to battle him into the air, body trailing, sinuous, tail lashing as he gains height. The labyrinth that is his mind stretches out, stone grinding on stone, smoke from fires where bodies writhe summoning the Dwellers hazes the ways, footfalls on gravel sound faster and faster.

Even with the gaggle of dragons around, it seems another would join the fray as soon as the green lifts off into the sky. Tavuqth had been biding his time, knowing that Akitith had been proddy, to chase. Though he's around, his rider is nowhere to be seen, which is oddly common enough during these things. The brown takes off after the glowing hide that beckons, roaring his challenge to the other males. They shall not be the winners this eve! He's big, but he maneuvers through the sky that belies his size. He's not super graceful, but he dives and rises with ease as he flies around the others. Come here, pretty!

Selaine's eyes are momentarily glazed over as her mind melds with her dragon's, the feeling of flight something entirely different from riding between the green's neckridges. It is a brief experience before she's back in her own mind. The foreigner's greetings are met with a tight smile. "Good evening." Her gaze flickers to L'xan. "L'xan." Hands idly move over the surface of the water as she looks back to D'har. "Certainly better than rising in a sandstorm." Way better. Now with F'in's approach, she gives him a crooked smile. "I did tell you." Her head lifts up to the sky, though it's hard to see anything other than the dark silhouettes of the dragons as they fly overhead.

Akitith is overjoyed with all her chasers. At least one of every color… she couldn't have asked for more. She loops in the sky, dives abruptly and rises just as suddenly. « Somewhere you can't catch me~ » The forest breeze is playful as it enters each dragon's mind, dancing through as it teases and calls for them. Her body rolls through the sky, picking up speed as the males threaten to fly closer. Still, for her size, she's much more agile and speedier than they are. For now.

A'idan stumbles a bit when D'ean gets so close to him, side-stepping somewhat to create a bit of space between the two men. It would be rather awkward to start with the introductions now, so he just crosses his arms and looks up at the sky. He's been riding nearly a decade now and is familiar with the 'mating flight, stand here and try not to get into a fight' routine that has become such a common event in his life. Occasionally, his eyes will drop to regard Selaine in the water.

While others are bent on brazen displays of strength, speed and other sorts of tactical awareness, Hajath is a different. Peculiar even. The off-beat brown zips and zags, like a giant fly that's been given draconic form. « Fun! » He darts frantically out of the way of a larger chaser, avoiding him at the very last second. « Sorry! Can't stop! Won't stop! » He doesn't mean that to be rude, genuinely sorry even through the flight lust. « A hint. Give us a hint for the game. »

D'ean brings a hand up to rake his fingers through his brown curls, then the man just sighs and tosses the extra riding gear down to the ground. To F'in he offers a friendlier, "Evening." Then he's peering up at the sky again with a frown as he murmurs mostly to himself, "He's never caught before, doubt he will now." He's saying it like that's a good thing. Selaine? He completely avoids looking her way.

Ozzeth has agility on his side if nothing else, and the blue is taking full advantage of it as he starts to take measure of the larger browns and bronzes around him. He pumps wings hard, trying to close the distance to get as close to the green as he can, snapping at Searuth even as he rudely tries to cut him off. Maybe Akitith is in the mood for some Southern variety tonight.

L'xan barely acknowledges any greetings returned as he appears deeply focused on breathing in and out without panting. He's not doing so well, his breath is kinda ragged and gaspy. The tail ends of his tunic float on the lake, but otherwise he's busy concentrating.

High over the center ring of the bowl, the night-spankled wings of the newly transferred bronze work: Up-down, up-down -as regular as a heart-beat, or a child on a swing. His strategy seems to be on making his way higher than the pack to keep pace without tiring, at any moment ready to take that final free-fall plunge. The embers of his thought continue to dance and flare into bigger flickers of flame before plunging into darkness again. Not yet, not quite yet.

D'har dunks himself, slicking raven-black hair back and free of excess water as he rises to stand before Selaine with a lopsided grin. "Has she done that before? Risen in a sandstorm?" he asks, arms folding over the broad expanse of his chest as he strikes an easy leaning pose. Small talk to ease the rising tension, certainly…but the influence of his dragon grows evident in the traveling of his eyes over the greenrider. And the wary glances flicked toward F'in, L'xan, and the Southerners.

Searuth climbs above the pack and answers Akitith's assertion with a warble, translated to deep, rich laughter among shadowed trees flecked with moonlight in his mind. He suddenly pins his wings in a quick dive for speed, turning into a barrel roll that ends with a flaring of blue-black wings to bank him sharply into line with Akitith. No talking from this blue yet, only showing! Or showing off, more accurately.

F'in turns his face upwards, trusting his instincts to kick in should the other riders prove aggressive. Or perhaps he's just that trusting. Without looking away from the weaving display above he says to D'ean, "Oh, well, maybe e's due then. Enjoy some Igen hospitality." He coughs and looks their way, "I mean th' good kind. Not th' shiv in yer spleen an' dumped on the midden t' be gnawed by curs kind." He gives the interlopers a look, "'f yers does catch, an' Selaine say anything amiss after, y'll get a taste o' that too though, aye?"

In acrobatic displays, there's always the one tanky guy at the center of the improbable formations, holding station, whirling slowly while others gyre and flip around. Rhakanth is that tank and he stays hot on Akitith's tail, the golden cord of his mind dipping down to race amongst the trees, a labyrinth of its own, one that is as familiar as it is mysterious. « I know where. » He roars again, wheeling slowly, altering the paths of the others by sheer mass and power of presence, he has no hope to match their moves, but he can shape them.

When one dragon comes to close, Tavuqth's claws reach out, threatening. Teeth are shown to his competition as he bugles out his challenge once more. He's not so zippy zaggy, but he does tumble through the sky, diving when he can, taking advantage of his mountless stamina. Not quite as intricate as Akitith, that's for sure.

Selaine does not fault the foreigners for their lack of introduction. It is a tense moment for all of them. The greenrider attempts to keep calm and not let it be shown just exactly how tense she is. D'har's small talk helps, if only marginally. Her focus seems to drift in and out, as can be seen by that glazed expression every now and then. Once, her body seems to jerk as Akitith makes a risque maneuver in the sky. Muttering of incoherent curses when that happens. "Yes. She has." The answer is a bit clipped. Sorry D'har. Her focus on any other conversation is limited, though she glances over at F'in at his last. "What's that supposed to mean?"

« A hint? » Akitith sings, a visible breeze twists and turns within each mind. A fog seeps and envelopes. « I want to see if you can keep up! » Show her your moves, boys! The fancier the better. Emerald wings spread their full length as she glides for just a moment before bringing them close to her body for a spinning dive. It isn't long before her tail brings her back up and wings come back out. It's not your speed, it's what you can do! At least, that seems to be the message. It's apparent that she's slowing down, though.

A'idan takes a page from D'ean's book and drops his jacket down onto the lake shore. While the water is inviting given the heat, he's not about to join the swimming party. Instead after a few more uncomfortable seconds, he sniffs and looks at F'in. "Nice class." Yes, yes. He's going to start small talk about the damn Igen weyrlings. Right here. Right now. Except wait, the brownrider does a bit of squinting at the bronzerider. "I'm not sure exactly what you just said, given the accent, but did you just… threaten me?" That doesn't happen every day to him! He looks genuinely surprised, in fact, he glances around to make sure there aren't any other interlopers!

« Haha, whoops! No, good show! » Hajath calls, complimenting another before he drops into a corkscrew fall through some of the other chasers in order to arrive neatly by Akitith. « Someplace we don't know, a hint! To get the-» Oh, Hajath. Too much talking! She's gone again! There's a delightfully comic moment where the brown swivels his head side to side to search for her. There she is! And of he goes again.

D'ean pulls his attention from the sky to look at F'in, brows knitting together but he manages a smirk for the joke. "Some hospitality…" He muses, but soon frowns at that not-so-veiled threat. Then he gives A'idan a glance as he takes issue, "No sir, he's just talking." He'll say in an attempt to diffuse any possible ill will that might be happening. "Maybe we should cool off in the water." With the others, where Selaine is. And wow, now that he's looking that way she's a lot more interesting!

Ozzeth unfortunately doesn't have the built-up cache of fancy moves or tricks, but the young blue does some fast dives and twirls, dodging around the bigger dragons in attempt to trip them up and distract them from focusing on the green. When she slows, he'll swoop around while fanning wings out, trying to cut his own speed to match.

L'xan takes a moment from his heavy breathing to acknowledge the wise words spoken by F'in. "Truth." It may only be one word, but hey, it's interaction (of a sort). But then the needs of respiration make themselves known, and he's back to wheezing and occasionally squinting at the other riders. Those Southern guys look shifty.

As Akitith dives, so does Nokteryth. Watch out below! While their rhythms are not quite in sync, he does his best to push his body through the air in an amateur imitation of her aerial pirouettes. « Keep up? I'm waiting for you to get going » Smug flares of oil barrel flames brighten his taunt, but the flakes of rust that linger in the shadows of his mind voice betray his effort. And his desire.

Flights are flights no matter what Weyr one's at, and D'har has been through a few in various places. He's not about to take Selaine's clipped answer personally…but he is going to fit her with a grin that bears an unmistakably lascivious edge. When she gives that jerk, he nearly moves to catch her if she bobbles but checks himself at the last second, instead reaching down to cup some water and dash it against his face. "I think it means perpetuating Igen's stereotype would be worth defending your honor, my dear," he notes of the question about F'in's comment to the Southerners…though he doesn't think they look particularly shifty himself. They're just caught up along for the ride like those who call Igen home.

Ah, Searuth does like that! « And keep up, I shall! » the nyctophiliac blue declares, his deep mental tone laden with velvety seduction the whispers among the shadowed boughs of his twilit forest. He powers upward again…and suddenly shoots up and back in a tight vertical loop, twisting into a spiral dive to match Akitith's at the end, plummeting and veering between any slower competitors in his way. No bothering to intimidate, only to surpass, the picture of lithe athleticism bent upon making the best impression for this lovely green that he can.

"Ah, yeah, those knuckleheads." F'in's knuckleheaded weyrlings. "'ey're good knuckleheads." F'in's attention is well on the sky above and little on the weyrlings who may or may not have retreated away. They're also totally not betting on the outcome. Nope. That little knot of them over there hunkered together watching the flight keenly couldn't be standing over bit marks tossed to the rough scree. F'in dashes a hand at Ai'dan, "It's 'im. Got my blood all up." He takes a deep breath and looks at Selaine. Dear Selaine. Dear, sweet, curvy Selaine. Dear, sweet, curvy… do that hair toss again. Yeah. Uh. What was he talking about? He shakes himself, blinking and looking at Ai'dan and D'ean before training his gaze aloft again, "But she's a friend and I will thump yer skull for ya if ya treat 'er poorly." He scratches at his ribs, idly, voice distracted as he watches Rhakanth lash at a dragon that comes close, "Ya strike me as a guy'd do th' same." He nods at L'xan, marking him out in particular as someone to go shoulder to shoulder with.

Rhakanth's impressiveness isn't in his agility, but in raw power. By force of strength he rears up, backwinging mightily, the long lash of his tail whipping out and aiding a slow, controlled roll that arcs into a dive, wings spread, trimming the stately curve, holding the line against tremendous force pushing it to collapse. To pull a turn that smoothly, that slowly, with such grace takes enormous strength and skill, it is not flashy, no, but it is a bronze's athleticism on fine display. Amidst the fog, from the branches lanterns appear, casting pools of golden light amidst the forest, a colorful touch marking the path he takes chasing, chasing…

Tavuqth attempts to dive after Akitith, but his rise is not so easy. If any of those other dragons get near, it'll be claws and maws out for them! He twists and turns after her, wings making him go as fast as he can. The fact that she's slowing down does not escape his notice and he flies by some of the others in effort to get closer to her, ready to catch her as soon as the opportunity presents itself.

There's visible relaxation in Selaine's expression as D'har explains what F'in meant. Perhaps she's too tense and somehow misinterpreted what he was really trying to say. Regardless, shoulders sag slightly. Conversation continues, however… odd it may be for her to hear, despite the many flights she's had already. Hands clench into fists as she attempts to focus on Akitith for a moment, feeling her dragon lust and shivering as it spreads through her body. Pulling out of that moment, Selaine's gaze regards each man within her vicinity, blue eyes focusing just a little longer on the ones she knows well.

Akitith's stamina is quite short-lived really, for all that she boasts on speed and agility. Still, that last bit of energy she still has is spent on more spectacular aerial acrobatics. A rush of wind blows through Nokteryth's mind, attempting to cool down those smug flares of his taunt. It's apparent she enjoys it though. As she does with each dragon's desire to catch her. For every show that the green gets from the various dragons, so does she keep track. The forest fog clears, the breeze beckons each dragon to try and find it's center. So many… and yet only one may ultimately enter the depths of those trees.

If we're being truthful, A'idan does look like the sort of person who has been punched a few times. In the face. By people bigger than him. Totally a shady character! But still, D'ean is a nice enough guy! Great hair too. "Just talking." The brownrider repeats slowly, glancing at his former weyrling with an arched brow. He takes a deep breath, because honestly, despite Hajath's lighthearted antics, the fire is up in him too. "Of course." Not here to pick a fight, after all he's got… he's got more weyrlings back in the barracks than he cares to count right now. It might make him cry big ugly man tears if he thinks on it too hard.

For once, for fucking once, Hajath shuts up. It comes in that moment when he senses Akitith begin to flag, her stamina and speed beginning to drop. He musters the last of his own reserves, zipping underneath a bronze and coming up right in front of him and nearly causing the poor bastard to drop like a rock. There's no apology this time, no snappy remark. Instead he beats those oversized wings extra hard and surges forward, lunging to her. Go big or go home, as they say. In this case, FOR SERIOUS. Gonna go home if he loses. Like a continent and an ocean and some islands away.

D'ean has just enough presence of mind at this point to kick his boots off before he decides to wade into the water, the desire to get closer to Selaine overriding the knowledge that he has to get back home by morning and wet pants make for horrible betweening. He's not thinking about that, though. He moves into the water and it's soothing coolness while his desires are just more heated by the moment from the dragon-link.

Ozzeth stays closer now, but takes advantage of his smaller size to show off a few twists and twirls in the space that's rapidly getting more crowded. He holds back some energy, ready to dart in as soon as he sees an opening.

L'xan surges forward, the bulk of his torso causing little waves to wash out from his body. The game has changed. "I'd give it a good…m—UGH!" Nope, there goes rational thought. At least he isn't hissing this time. That was…interesting.

Everyone knows that wind only fans the flame higher. And that is the effect of Akitith's wind through Nokteryth's fire. FLARE . If she is not careful it will consume the forest, path and all. All attempts of subtlety are past. He's big, he's bad, he's totally willing to knock that cheeky weyrling brown bugger (totally npc) out of the chase. Like the flames need the wind to burn brightest, so does a flyer need a catcher to perform the most daring trapeze.

As the moment of Akitith's choice nears, D'har's easy amiability transforms more and more into a lustful, intense regard. Obsidian-dark eyes meet blue keen and sharp when Selaine turns her gaze his way, and his arms drop, muscles subtly tensing for quick movement. So close now…

The night-shrouded leaves of Searuth's moon-kissed forests rustle and whisper in the breeze Akitith beckons them with, the glinting wings of the tiny, dark fliers that dart and dive before the silver-faced moon adding subtle susurration to the shadowed symphony of twilight. Searuth aims to add his own sweet note to the night as well, spinning into a tight barrel roll beneath the rest of the chasers this time before flaring night-dark wings to power upward beneath Akitith in final pursuit, neck and talons stretching, reaching in hope of victory…

"Oh." Crap. F'in's dressed. He starts shucking clothes, pre-emptive perhaps, but he definitely doesn't need to soak his leathers. It's mindboggling how quickly he goes from clothed to unclothed. It's like his super power. Getting naked and hugs. Not usually in that order. Usually.

Finding the heart of a mystery is Rhakanth. Lord of the Labyrinth he surges ahead, the bounding cord ever-seeking, looping and winding, weaving between the trees, his path illuminated and when viewed from above describe a vast cat's cradle, mandala of mind, woven to catch the most alluring of prey: Akitith. Rhakanth's true agility is his mind nimble and strong, quick. Inevitable. Avalanche and whirlwind. And not a lick of hubris. No. He bellows again, stretching forward and he feints left, rolls right, reaching…

And there comes his chance! Tavuqth sees opportunity knockinig and he's after that green tail faster than anything. No more fancy maneuvering, except to get around all these other dragons in his way. He has his eye on the prize and he's determined to get it. Talons threaten to injure any of those that dare come too close as Tavuqth nears Akitith, ready to catch her…

Every dragon put up a good show, from familiar to foreign. However, Akitith does not discriminate in that regard. She'll take them all if she could (does that make her a dragon-slut?). They all attempt to get closer, to enter the sacred center of her forest. All fine candidates, but only one shall succeed. So tempting… each and every one. Akitith dives once more, only to be caught unawares by the flame that flares even more into existence, putting her right into Nokteryth's path. Satisfaction, only to further fan those growing flames. Now there is no other dragon in her sights but the bronze as they fall.

Heat rises through Selaine's body, despite the coolness of the lake water that surrounds her. The burning gazes of each man do not go unnoticed as the dragon lust permeates through each rider. Hands clench and unclench, tension rolls through her body as she senses the moment coming. Collision meets surprise as Selaine's gaze meets L'xan's. "Shit." Can be heard muttered as she wades through the water to somehow meet the bronzerider halfway. And then perhaps to somewhere more private… like the mirror cavern just over yonder.

"Now your dumbass has to between with wet pants." A'idan calls out to D'ean from the shore of the lake where he stands, still perfectly dry. Also perfectly pissed off considering his dragon just lost a flight. "GET DOWN HERE. DON'T IGNORE ME. WE ARE GOING HOME." And so help you, if you don't stop fighting I'm going to turn this car around and go home! Wait, what? Good night, that's all folks!

"Oh, fuck!" L'xan chokes out in the brief moment when the flight concludes. And that's precisely what's about to happen. Using his tall muscular frame to his advantage he hoists the greenrider to his chest and wades towards the more private Mirror Cavern. This complicates things, just a tad.

Nokteryth is the man! Or rather the big bundle of bronze that gets the girl! With a triumphant roar he covers the smaller green's body with his own. Flame-born carnage licks along the forest path, covering and consuming, but oddly not harming the gentle glowing growing green.

The moment passed, a spurned blue dragon's flash of frustration spikes and ebbs, and D'har pulls in a deep breath, letting it out slowly and urging the tension out of his muscles. He drops into the water again, eyes closed when he resurfaces, floating on the surface for a moment. "Not tonight, mate," is murmured aloud as Searuth veers away to go sit at the Star Stones and stare at the moons for awhile. D'har may swim a little bit before pulling himself out of the water. There's a bit yet to burn off…and he's got someone in mind who may be willing to help him do just that.

D'ean is still shaking off the barrage of dragon-feels and disappointment when he hears A'idan's all-too-familiar yelling voice permeating the mental fog. He just casually flips the Southern Weyrlingmaster off with an annoyed glance his way, then D'ean takes his nice hair and dives deeper into the water to take a good long swim.

F'in stands with foot in hand, pulling at the sock, last remaining bit of his clothes. "Dah." Rhakanth peels off from the chase, the Lord of the Labyrinth left seeking, but it is what he does best. He sets his foot down carefully, puzzling at the reaction of the two riders… he squints at D'har, "'ey're not cousins 're somethin' 're they?" It doesn't seem to make any different to F'in that he's buck naked. He stoops to gather his cloth, shivering with the shed thrall of Rhakanth's mating urge. He doesn't wait for an answer, but looks off towards the knuckleheads, "Who had L'xan?"

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