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Lysseth's Second Flight


Date:  October 4, 1996
Places:  Benden Weyr's Living Cavern, North Bowl, South Bowl, Feeding
Grounds, Upper Sky, and Guest Weyr.
Game:  PernMUSH
Copyright Info:  The World of Pern is copyright(c) to Anne McCaffrey 
l967. The Dragonriders of Pern(r) is a registered copyright.

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Kassi's Note:  Many thanks go to all the dragons and riders who
participated to make it the best flight I've ever run (okay, so out of
two, that's not saying much, but still!  It was absolutely fabulous :).
Dragon chatter has been left in to provide comic relief. ;) So has
relevant knotchat.  Things prefixed by Lysseth> take place first in the
North Bowl, then in the Feeding Grounds, and finally in the Upper Benden
Sky.

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The Log:

Asrai smiles as she enters, "Hello there Kassi!"

Lysseth> Nicoth croons to the glowing beauty, Lysseth.

T'lar walks in from the bowl.

Kassima glares at the sky through the Bowl exit, muttering to herself,
"Sharding grey... hideous color, unpleasant to look at. Ought to be
*blue.*" She then starts and, whirling, turns to face the voice that
called her name, a knife already in hand. "Oh, Asrai," she says flatly as
she replaces the blade. "'Tis only you."

Lysseth> Lysseth runs her claws lightly over the Bowl floor as she
warblecroons back to Nicoth.

T'lar saunters in, smiling and looking relaxed. He moves quickly over to
where Kassima is sitting. Seeing the knife, he stops very abruptly. "Uh,
hi, Kassi, Asrai."

Asrai looks up and smiles at T'lar...she gives a start at the knife,
"Kassi...were you expecting someone else...someone you didn't like?" she
looks pointedly at the knife.

Without further word, the greenrider strides over to her common
destination these days: the nearest pot of M'kla's klah. The ample stein
is already sitting out in wait, which causes her to nod briefly in
satisfaction as she pours. "Enh? Nay, but y'startled me. Shouldn't *do*
that. 'Tis a good way to wind up with three thumblengths of steel in your
throat. Hey, T'lar."

Lysseth> Nicoth keeps a respectable distance from the green, but
continues to croon softly.

Asrai's eyes widen, "But Kassi, I only said hello..."

Kassima snorts as she picks up the heavy mug, pulling a small vial of
brownish liquor from some hidden pocket. "Y'said your greetings a'fore I
got a chance to see you. How'm I supposed t'know that you're nay an
enemy if'n y'don't let me see who you *are* first, eh?" She rolls her
eyes. "'Tis naught but common sense."

T'lar regains his smile. He takes a heavy tray from a passing drudge and
carries it over to a table full of hungry riders. He holds the tray
while she serves. She gives him a smile for his trouble and returns to
the kitchen. The bronzerider continues on to where Asrai is sitting.

Asrai frowns, "There are enemies around here?"

Kassima slugs back a decent helping of the spiked klah, then leans back
in her chair, eyeing the other two. "There're enemies *everywhere*,
Asrai. Can't trust anyone completely... well, 'cept Lysseth a'course.
The beast may be troublesome, but she's trustworthy."

Asrai looks around, "everywhere?"

T'lar glances from Asrai to the proddy greenrider. His smile turns
impish. "Yes. Enemies are everywhere."

Asrai blinks sinking into a seat, her face very troubled, "But...they
said it was safe here."

T'lar places a hand on Asrai's shoulder and squeezes gently. "Nothing to
worry about, Asrai. Kassima and I will protect you." He leans down to
whisper softly in her ear.

Kassima nods firmly. "Everywhere. Even most of m'fire-lizards are
traitors... except Quixote. And *he's* just plain crazed. Only time I've
ever Impressed a fire-lizard when Lyss was glowing." She tugs a few
spiderclaws from her belt pouch and crunches one of them, wincing as the
bits of shell get stuck in her teeth. "Safe it may be, if'n y'don't look
beneath the surface. But everyone's always... plotting. Something.
Whispering, behind the back, and looking when they think you can't see
them." She snorts. "As if 'twas a blind lass they were looking at, and
deaf to their words as well? Feh."

T'lar mutters to Asrai, "It's safe here. This is... talk."

Asrai looks over at T'lar and then sighs with relief, the tenseness
draining from her body.

T'lar smiles at Asrai and nods to Kassima. He sits down and leans forward
on one elbow. "Even the firelizards, Kassi? What with your fair, I
thought you'd trust them."

Asrai reaches up and scritches rose, causing her to croon loudly.

Kethran walks here from the Inner Cavern.

Salless sits down for a moment to rest her feet and take a sip from a mug
of Klah.

T'lar waves to Kethran.

Kassima shrugs as she gulps more of the noxious liquor-and-M'kla's-klah
mixture. "They all disappeared," she snarls. "Gone from sight... I've nay
seen more than a couple about 'tall of late. Sometimes they'll be in the
weyr when Lyss lands, but they all go zooming off soon enough!
Treacherous, unloyal, betraying... Kethran, heyla." She nods shortly to
the Assistant Steward.

Asrai blinks at Kassi before raising a hand in greeting to Keth as he
arrives. "Hello Keth, how are you doing?"

T'lar nods sagely. "I see. Wonder what could have gotten into them?" He
hides for a moment behind a mug of ale.

Kethran wanders out of the inner caverns, looking totally exhausted. He
waves wearily to T'lar, Kassima, and Asrai, as he drops into a seat.
"Heyla, all," he mumbles, his eyes seeming to have difficulty focusing.

Kassima shrugs, again. "How should I know? All I'm aware of is that they
do this, oh, about twice a year... even Zabreneva's left. Odd. They all
go at about the same time the headaches start, too."

Asrai looks upon Keth with concern, "Would you care for some klah, Keth?"

T'lar says "Really? Headaches as well? Anything else happen during this
time?" He manages not to let too much amusement show on his face. "Have
you spoken to a Healer?"

Kassima sighs and counts off on her fingers. "Lysseth's a pain in the
tail, I can't stand cooked food, and every liquor or drink in the place
mysteriously weakens. Y'know, I can hardly tell M'kla's klah from
dishwater? Then there's the temperature. Last time, 'twas cold... now,
'tis too sharding hot." She demonstrates by fanning her face with one
hand for awhile. "Then, everyone starts treating me really strangely.
If'n I didn't know better, I'd swear I'm the only normal one hereabouts
these days!"

Lysseth> Above, From the Benden Star Stones, M'nar's mint green Gelth
rears on hind legs and bugles a greeting to brown Ularrith and his rider,
M'rgan of HighReaches Weyr.

Asrai glances over at T'lar then down at the tables, trying to hide a
smile. she dare death and asks, "Kassi, how is Lysseth's color lately?"

T'lar quickly raises his mug and takes a long, slow drink. Setting it
down carefully, he fingers a scratch on the table, regarding it closely.
"Nicoth does seem a bit interested in her of late."

Kassima shakes her head then. "As to the Healer... bah, Healers can't
help. All they tell me is that the headaches come from stress. Stress!
Feh!" Then she blinks at Asrai and scowls. "Don't tell me you're going
to start insisting she's proddy, too. Everyone keeps saying that, but
I'd *think* I would realize if she were."

Benden Weyr> Alyssa ponders going into the LC and thinks better of it.

Benden Weyr> Kassima awwwwwwws, but Lys...!

Asrai nods, "I'm sure...but it /does/ happen every 6 months or so...
doesn't it?"

T'lar clears his throat and runs one hand through his hair. "Well, Kassi.
She was a bit bright"

Kassima shakes her head. "Nay... last time was nigh eight months ago, the
time before that five... enh. 'Tis naught but the sun." She waves a
dismissive hand at the very idea.

T'lar looks over at Asrai and smiles. "When did Lyss last rise anyway?"

Lysseth> Above, Ularrith returns the greeting with a loud thurble as he
flicks his left wing down, banking for a spiral taking him further down
into the bowl. The snow that lightly falls imitates his movement by
swirling around him. He spirals around the inside of the bowl, the snow
spirals around him, and all is complete.

Benden Weyr> Alyssa bwokbwokbwokBKOOOOK!

Kassima furrows her brow and says, reluctantly, "Now that you mention it,
eight moons agone... but that's just coincidence. Doesn't mean anything."

Benden Weyr> T'lar says, "Silly, Lys. Come help us convince Kassi she's
proddy."

Benden Weyr> Kassima strums her guitar and sings, 'Ghost Chickens in the
Sky' to Lys.

Asrai nods, "Some coincedence....."

Benden Weyr> Kassima isn't proddy! She's good, and sweet, and nice, and
nauseating, and.... :)

Benden Weyr> Asrai gigglesnickers.

Benden Weyr> Jehrina casts a vote for nauseating. ;)_

Lysseth> Above, Atop sturdy Ularrith, M'rgan holds tightly to the straps
as the darkness and the snow make it difficult to see. But the glowlight
from the living cavern light up the brown dragon's desired landing spot.

Benden Weyr> Alyssa grins at Jehrina.

Lysseth> Ularrith backwings for a landing.

Kassima nods agreement. "Coincidence can be a strange thing, wouldn't
you say? So many coincidences. But, nay matter." She sighs. "Shards, I
wish I hadn't used up the last of my hangover remedy. Could've used it
yestereve."

Lysseth> The snow stops following Ularrith as he lands lightly on the
ground. Instead, with a quick backwing, he sends the iridescent flakes
soaring high into the bowl.

Lysseth> Lysseth swings her head about and snorts, the cold causing her
breath to fog in the air as she rumbles a semi-cordial greeting to
Ularrith.

T'lar just sits and drinks his ale. A contented, slightly amused smile
graces his lips. One arm rests on the back of Asrai's chair.

Asrai looks over at the empty mug of klah, "Have you tried willow's bark,
Kassi?"

Kassima wrinkles her nose. "Bleah. *That* stuff. What good is it if'n it
doesn't mix well with brandy, I ask you?"

Lysseth> Crouching low, belly dragging on the frozen ground, Ularrith
swings his head in Lysseth's direction, eyes whirling a little faster as
he takes in the gorgeous sight of her. His croon is quiet and soft, as if
he has been starstruck.

Asrai frowns, "But it mixes well with wine.." She offers helpfully.

C'vadan walks here from the Inner Cavern.

Salless drains the Klah in the Klah pot to make some fresh.

Lysseth> Atop sturdy Ularrith, M'rgan unbuckles himself from the straps
with practiced movements. "The lake here is too cold so don't even think
about it, lump. You just stay here with the others and behave." He tugs
off his helmet and goggles, clipping them onto the straps, before running
his hands through his hair as he looks about. "Looks like the weather is
worse that the Reaches."

Lysseth> Lysseth rolls her eyes as best a dragon can, but does extend her
translucent, luminous green wings and fans them lightly to cause the snow
to swirl about her before settling back down.

C'vadan hums softly to himself as he arrives, not aware that he is.

Asrai looks up from her conversation with Kassi to wave at Cav.

T'lar waves his mug to Cav. "Join us, rider."

Kethran glances up and grins at C'vadan. "Heya, Cav," he says wearily.

C'vadan nods and grabs a cup of juice and joins the others.

Kassima snorts. "Wine? Wine! Wine's naught; 'tis nay worth the trouble it
takes to drink it. Only the Bottle and good, strong brandy are any good."
She glances out to the Bowl and hrms. "Mart's here, looks like," she
mutters, then nods to Cav. "C'vadan. Heyla. You're humming."

C'vadan stops humming when he sips from his cup. "I am?"

Lysseth> M'rgan vaults down Ularrith's side to the ground, using his
straps as handholds.

Kassima sighs. "You are, or were," she replies dryly. "You've since
stopped."

T'lar mutters into his ale. "Bad as his brown." His eyes twinkle over the
rim of the mug.

C'vadan arches his brow at T'lar's comment, but doesn't say anything as
everyone one knows bronzes are not known for their wit. Weyr- and
wingleaders notwithstanding.

Kethran finally, slowly, rises from his seat. "Gonna try get sleep," he
mumbles, and meanders off toward the inner caverns.

Kethran walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.

Kassima rubs her temples, setting down the stein of klah first. "Sleep,"
she groans. "Now that would be divine, but does Lyss ever let me sleep?"
Obviously, a rhetorical question.

T'lar waves down a serving girl. He quickly orders wherry, tubers and
greens. "Anything for anyone else?"

Lysseth> M'rgan grabs Ularrith's muzzle as the dragon continues to stare
at Lysseth. "I mean it, Ulie. You embarassed me enough at Igen." At the
dragon's slight whuffle of acknowledgement, he smiles tenderly. "I know
the water there was warm. Just behave yourself, okay." M'rgan's eyes glow
with fire of the rider-dragon bond as he enfolds the dragon's muzzle in
his arms before moving off towards the living cavern.

Kassima eyes the wherry. "Don't suppose there's any of that, 'cept without
the cooking?"

M'rgan walks in from the bowl.

Asrai asks innocently, "Kassi...have you tried mixing the willow's bark
with...the Bottle?"

[Editor's Note:  I should explain something here.  The Bottle is a sort
of strange, possibly hazardous drink that Kassi mixed in quantity one
day.  Aside from being extremely flammable, it also emits white vapor,
heats the bottle it's in, and hisses and bubbles constantly.  The
effects are varied, sometimes alarming, sometimes amusing.]

Benden Weyr> <C'vadan> Dulath thinks. o O (No Tzornth, no Prometh, Nicoth
a minor inconvienence... just get rid of Adonith and I have it made...)

Benden Weyr> Asrai gigglesnickers.

M'rgan stamps his boots at the cavern entrance, shaking off the snow and
mud that smear their shine. "High Reaches' duties," he calls out as his
eyes lazily drift over the people in the cavern.

Benden Weyr> <T'lar>  Nicoth gazes over at the niggling brown and snorts.

T'lar says "Heh, M'rgan. Come join us. Good food, good drink and good
company."

C'vadan stifles a yawn. "Hello again, M'rgan. Benden's to Reaches."

Kassima grimaces. "Now wouldn't *that* taste sharding awful? But nay.
I've already drank all the Bottle, and there's nay way they'll let me
back to Boll to brew more... shard it all. I should've thought of that
yestereve, before drinking my brains to dust... eh, Mart, heyla." Almost
as an afterthought, she adds a brief, "Benden's duties and all that
rigamarole."

Benden Weyr> Alyssa will be out in a few, honest.

The serving girl brings over a plate heaped with wherry, greens and
smashed tubers. "Here you are, T'lar. Anything else?"

Asrai's violet eyes widen with concern, "Kassi...did you just say you
drank.../all/ of the bottle??"

C'vadan finishes his juice and pours another.

T'lar says "Thanks, Marta. That's all for now. Unless you can get Kassima
some raw wherry."

M'rgan waves jauntily to C'vadan, his energy a sharp contrast to the
other brownrider's. "Evening, C'vadan." He pauses as he starts to walk
over towards Kassima, a bit taken aback by her words. "What trouble are
you getting into now?"

Kassima turns faintly green at the sight of the tubers. "That," she says
sardonically, "has got to be the most disgusting plate of food I've ever
seen in m'life. And *aye*, I said it! Did y'nay hear? I said I'd drunk it
all, for I did, a few nights agone. 'Twas *almost* a servable drink, but
still... a bit too weak."

T'lar catches M'rgan's eye and mouths 'proddy'.

C'vadan just shakes his head.

T'lar digs into his meal with gusto. Especially the tubers. :)

Asrai flinches back at Kassi's tone, flushing under the reprimand, "I
heard you Kassi...it just suprised me, that's all...You said that it was
powerfull stuff." She finishes softly.

C'vadan holds up the juice pitcher. "Anyone want some?"

Kassima lifts an eyebrow, folds her arms, and smirks. "Trouble? Me? Oh,
naught... I've nay been yelled at by Tria, at least, so I assume
Lysseth's steering clear of her wherry herds. I know I am. And d'you know
what a diet of raw fish does to m'temper?" She snorts. "Nay much for it,
'tis for certain. Nay raw meat, they say. Y'can't eat that in here, oh,
nay, nay matter how hungry y'may be--someone might see it, and be ill.
Like I really care." She slams her fist on the table, plainly just a
*wee* bit irked.

T'lar shakes his head.

C'vadan hmmms when Kassima mentions Caitria, but, again, remains silent.

Asrai shrinks down even more.

Kassima rolls her eyes. "I must've been sickened when I said that, Asrai.
Aye, 'tis a drink strong enough to at least be better'n citron, but
barely. Stronger than aught else. There's *that* I can say for it."

T'lar sits back and places a reassuring hand on Asrai's arm. His smile
lights his grey eyes to shades of silver.

Asrai nods, chewing on her lower lip.

Catching T'lar's mention of proddy, M'rgan twists around, scanning
everyone around him trying to figure out who is the proddy one. Kassima
doesn't waste any time in letting him know. His pleasant smile takes on
an aspect of fear and respect as he decides that humoring her is the best
way to go. "Nobody treats you as they should, do they, Kassi?"

Lysseth> Adonith backwings for a landing.

Alyssa walks in from the bowl.

Lysseth> Nicoth warbles to Alyssa.

M'rgan slides into a seat near Kassi, but not too close.

C'vadan raises his mug to Alyssa when she arrives.

T'lar sees Alyssa and waves her over. "Join us, Lys. We're having food
and drink and good conversation."

Alyssa enters, a trifle splattered by some redwort, and replies blithely,
"Good...I'm starving. Evening, all."

Kassima snorts, and applauds sarcastically. "The understatement of the
Pass, 'tis that. Nay anyone, nay 'tall--nay even Lyss, for she doesn't
let me sleep nor go even an hour without her complaints." She sighs,
shaking her head, but does remember her manners and offers the stein she
was drinking from. "Klah? 'Tis as weak as the dawn's sun, but 'tis
something to drink, at least... Lys. Heyla."

Asrai stands up, eyeing Kassi with caution, "If you all will excuse
me..." She turns and practically 'runs' from the cavern.

Asrai walks towards the inner cavern.

Benden Weyr> <Maarie> Zuseth thinks . o O (I'll distract Nicoth to chase
me and easily outfly Adonith and Dulath and then Lysseth will be all mine!
MUWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!)

T'lar watches Asrai go with some concern. After a moment, he returns to
his meal and his ale.

Alyssa smiles warmly and Kassima and replies with a shake of the head,
"Even weak klah is past me...thanks. Cider and some rolls will be good."

Benden Weyr> Maarie says, "And with that zany thought I must leave for
dinner."

Salless cuts a large hunk off a cooling loaf of soft, crusty bread for
Alyssa.

Benden Weyr> Alyssa HUGS Maarie too.

Salless takes a wheel of Fort's finest Cheddar and cuts Alyssa a slice.

Benden Weyr> <T'lar> Nicoth peeeers at Zuseth.

Benden Weyr> C'vadan laughs and hugs Maarie :)

Benden Weyr> <Kassima> Lysseth snorts. << You're not worthy! You're not
worthy! ;) >> *Snugs.* Night, Maarie-Aie! :)

Benden Weyr> Alyssa +quiets. :)

Benden Weyr> <C'vadan> Dulath sighs. << Every green seems able to outfly
me... >>

M'rgan mock-yawns to cover up his smirk. "I hope you gave them what for,
Kassi."

C'vadan smiles at M'rgan and resumes sipping at his juice. Again, he
begins humming softly.

T'lar raises his mug in salute. "You know she does. Our Kassima is quite
a woman, strong and feisty."

Kassima frows at her mug. "Shells. Shards. Shells *and* shards, where'd
all my headache powder go? And the hangover remedy? Couldn't find either
one this morn, y'know, and after that scene in here yestereve, I *quite*
needed both...." To Mart, she grins, a bit ferally. "Y'can wager on that,
aye!" A blade suddenly appears in her hand, though it was drawn too
quickly for the action to be noticed, and she starts sharpening her nails
with that. "A safe bet, I'd say."

Benden Weyr> Kassima giggles and thinks this is fun, even if she *doesn't*
get to disembowel wherries....

T'lar manages not to fall backwards at the appearance of the knife. He
remember that knife well only wielded by another greenrider.

M'rgan scoots his chair over and away as the knife appears. It seems
impossible but his smile gets even broader, threatening to split his
face. "Whatever you say."

C'vadan blinks at the knife.

Alyssa carries her bread and cheese from Salless, along with a mug of
cider, toward the table with the others, oblivious to what's just come to
pass.

M'rgan leaves off the 'please don't hurt me' though it does echo in his
head.

Amazing, isn't it, that Kassi picked out of her assorted weaponry the
knife most likely to bring to mind the memory of a certain other act of
proddiness, though not her own? Coincidence? Perhaps. But perhaps not,
in... the Proddy Greenrider Zone. "So, Mart," she asks nonchalantly,
"what's up at the Reaches? Aught of interest?"

C'vadan seems content to let M'rgan fend for himself. He continues to sip
at his juice and hum to himself.

M'rgan says through gritted teeth. "Nope. It's quiet. Real quiet. Really,
really quiet." Not a proddy greenrider around for miles.

"What's going on?" Alyssa asks as she settles down, loosens her riding
jacket, and looks around blithely. She's at the wrong angle, apparently,
to see Kassima's weapon of death.

T'lar places a hand over the mouth of his mug to prevent a server from
refilling it with ale. "Think I better switch to citrus. Thanks."

Kassima lifts an eyebrow. "Really?" She tosses the knife up in the air,
catching it neatly just before it can land and probably cut off her foot
in the process. "Knew I should've gone to visit there instead of Boll
yestereve, but ach, let's face it--Boll has better drinks."

C'vadan chuckles. "Better beaches, too."

M'rgan's gaze flicks over to C'vadan as he stamps out an SOS with the
blinking of his eyes and the furtive jerks of his head in Kassima's
direction.

Well, Alyssa would have to be blind not to see the knife that time. Bread
poised before her mouth, she swallows and says, without thinking, "Oh,
no, not another proddy one..."

T'lar smiles at Alyssa and chuckles. "Oh, nothing, Lyssa. Nothing."

Kassima snaps her head about to regard Lys coldly. "I am *nay*," she
hisses, thwacking the knife against her palm to emphasize each word,
"proddy."

C'vadan watches Kassima in facination.

Benden Weyr> Flannery Waveyhugs!

T'lar shakes his head at Alyssa's unintentional foolishness. He hides his
smile with a cough.

Benden Weyr> T'lar says, "Flan! Come save us from the proddy Kassi."

Benden Weyr> Kassima snugsaFlan! Can I borrow a cleaver, pretty
please?? ;)

Alyssa's amethyst eyes go to the knife, then Kassima's glare, then the
knife. And the knife blade. "Yeah, whatever you say, Kassima, you're not
proddy, though Adonith was just mentioning Lysseth's glowing, but no,
you're not proddy, not at all, and I'm babbling aren't I?"

Alyssa smiles innocently, winningly at Kassima, even as what she said
registers and she looks toward the bowl.

T'lar gives up and laughs out loud. Clutching his sides, his eyes water
with mirth.

Lysseth> Dulath warbles softly to Lysseth.

Lysseth> Nicoth grumbly warns Dulath off.

C'vadan blinks at Alyssa. "I think you should quit while you are behind,
Lys."

Kassima drags her nails along the knife's edge with a peculiar scraping
sound as she narrows her eyes, nodding. "You are," is her brisk reply.
"And Lyss is just in good health. Nay proddy. I'm nay proddy. She's nay
proddy. And I'd appreciate it if you'd all get that sharding fact through
your minds!"

Benden Weyr> Flannery says, "Of course, Kassi! Be my guest!:)"

Lysseth> Ularrith would have to be grey with death not to realize the
state that Lysseth is in. As the wind shift, Ularrith raises himself on
his haunches with a feline-like stretch. His great wings unfurl, sails
billowing in the opposite direction as he seeks to protect the sultry
creature from the snow and wind.

Lysseth> Dulath snorts at Nicoth and continues to warble to Lysseth.

Benden Weyr> T'lar says, "Darn. It stopped snowing. Snow during a flight
would have been fun."

Lysseth> Lysseth smugly enjoys the attentions, bright vermilion eyes
shining through grim overcast as she rumbles appreciatively.

Lysseth> Adonith crooooooooons to Lysseth in passionate and sincere
appreciation for her unique beauty.

Dragon> Nicoth bespoke Benden dragons with <<  Adonith, that was pure
sucking up. :) >>

Alyssa nods rapidly and notes, "Um, scuse me, I think I want some ...
some ... fresh klah, no, no...wherry. Yes. Excuse me."

Alyssa walks off towards the kitchen.

Dragon> Benden dragons sense that Adonith shrugs. Whatever works, bud. :)

Dragon> All dragons sense that Lysseth hisses, snarls, glows, etc, then
makes a brief OOC comment: << To whom it may concern, and contrary to my
rider's beliefs, I'll be rising at Benden Weyr in, oh, say, about ten
minutes now. Any interested parties are welcome to come join in the
Feeding Grounds gorefest any time, and of course, join the +flights
channel. Thanks! >>

Dragon> Tyrrath bespoke Lysseth with << Knock em dead, pretty one! >>

Lysseth> Tyrrath senses that Lysseth rumblechuckles. << I'll try to
outfly them almost as well as you do, Tyrrath! >>

M'rgan nods with Kassima's every word, totally and completely agreeing
with her whole-heartedly. He's only scooching his chair over to be closer
to the hearth. Yeah. That's it.

Dragon> Green dragons sense that Tyrrath crooooons encouragement and
wishes of fierce green splendor to Lysseth!

Lysseth> Above, From the Benden Star Stones, M'nar's mint green Gelth
rears on hind legs and bugles a greeting to blue Emmith and his rider,
J'bal of Fort Weyr.

Dragon> Benden dragons sense that Dulath grins. << You two keep fighting.
I'll catch Lysseth. >>

Kassima mmmms. "Wherry," she says, licking her lips. "Raw wherry. Bloody
wherry. Now there'd be a decent dinner, for true."

C'vadan hmmms. Raw wherry. Not a good sign.

Lysseth> Emmith backwings for a landing.

Lysseth> J'bal slides off Emmith, using the riding straps for help.

Lysseth> Nicoth gets slowly to his feet and stretches each rippling
muscle carefully. Making sure that Lysseth can see his every move.
Extending his wings fully, he flaps them, rising up onto his hind legs.
He bugles loudly, announcing his intentions toward the fair, glowing
beauty.

Dragon> Green dragons sense that Mallorith echoes Tyrranth's
encouragement.

Lysseth> J'bal slides to the ground, his 250+ pounds making a thump.

M'rgan comments, "Sounds delicious." Scooch, schooch.

Lysseth> Lysseth turns her faceted ruby eyes to the Living Cavern and
growls a sharp, unheard comment before sliding her gaze back to
warblecroon to Emmith in greeting, tail swishing about and stirring up
the light dusting of snow.

T'lar watches M'rgan and toasts him silently for his bravery in the face
of a proddy Kassima.

Lysseth> Dulath continues his soft crooning to Lysseth, ignoring the
other males that are congregating about the glowing green.

Dragon> Dulath bespoke Lysseth with << You are looking particularly
striking tonight, Lysseth. >>

Lysseth> Adonith pays no attention to Nicoth despite the fact that the
clumsy great bulk could block the moons. Instead he seeks to caress
Lysseth's hearing with a delightful serenade in his low draconic tenor,
his aural ministrations a testimony to his adoration.

Kassima rolls her eyes. "I don't care if I'm making you hungry, Lyss,"
she barks. "Now be *quiet*! For just this *once*!" She absently cuts into
her finger instead of the nail as she mutters curses; apparently, she's
been studying her notes from S'riv's creative cursing lessons.

Alyssa walks in from the kitchen.

Lysseth> Emmith warbles, then croons as he notices the skin color,
foregoing his usual slumber to look at the green.

J'bal walks in from the bowl.

Alyssa returns, looks toward the bowl, looks at Kassima, and takes a
seat..where? Skyfire table? Yes, that looks safe. And distant.

Lysseth> Dulath senses that Lysseth trills smugly, << Is that not as it
should be? >>

J'bal saunters in, smiling about. "Evening. Fort's duty to Benden."

Dragon> Dulath bespoke Lysseth with << I never said you weren't normally,
lovely one. But tonight you are just that much more. >>

T'lar says "Evening, welcome and Benden's duty."

M'rgan unhappily discovers that no matter how far he scooches, he's still
within knife range. "I'd better check on Ulie." Although it's a weak
excuse, he figures it'll probably get him out of a possible major injury.

Lysseth> Above, From the Benden Star Stones, M'nar's mint green Gelth
rears on hind legs and bugles a greeting to blue Verenth and his rider,
Melata of HighReaches Weyr.

Lysseth> Above, Verenth starts to sail downwards.

Alyssa runs her fingers through her hair and watches Kassima warily, her
gaze flickering every so often toward the bowl. "Ice Lake, Ice Lake, Ice
Lake," she seems to chant to her blue.

C'vadan looks at M'rgan. Chicken.

Kassima winces and drops the knife to peer at her gashed finger, wiping
blood from the wound on her slacks with ooh-ouch-eek pain noises. "Eve,"
is her short and to the point greeting as she looks up to glare at Alyssa.
"D'you *have* to back away like that? 'Tis nay like I'm going to suddenly
up and attack everyone here, sheesh! Will someone for *once* treat me like
m'*self* instead of like some... some... ach, I don't even *know* the
word!" She again bangs her fist on the table, this time meeping as it
happened to be the injured hand.

Dragon> Lysseth bespoke Flight with << Testing, testing, one two
three.... >>

J'bal smiles pleasantly at Kassi and Alyssa, eyebrow arched as he doesn't
even catch the drift. He blinks at Kassi as she cuts herself, furrowing
his brow a little. "Are you all right, Kassi?"

C'vadan blinks at Kassima. "I didn't say anything, Kassi. You don't seem
the least bit different to me."

Dragon> Adonith bespoke Flight with << Test!! I have a #2 pencil! >>

T'lar says "Easy, Kassi. They didn't mean anything by it." He stands and
comes over to her. "Need any help with the hand?"

Dragon> Dulath bespoke Flight with << Got it, chief. >>

Alyssa hurries forward to Kassima's side and says, "Kassima, I'm sorry,
sweeting, are you all right? Your poor hand..."

Dragon> Lysseth bespoke Flight with << Good, because this test will be
in Scantron... just kidding. :) Is everyone here? >>

Dragon> Nicoth bespoke Flight with << Hello, gorgeous. You too,
losers. :) >>

Lysseth> Ularrith trumpets a scathing comment to all the unworthy males
who continue to circle the lovely Lysseth, cutting of his view of such a
bodacious creature. With a sudden downbeat of his wings, he is airborne.

Lysseth> Ularrith takes flight, using the thermals rising from the bowl
to carry him aloft.

Dragon> Flight sense that Verenth returns the test as his rider slowly
lags her way down.

Lysseth> Nicoth raises his head and returns Ularrith's challenge.

Kassima hides her sliced hand behind her back and snarls through clenched
teeth, "Get away from me, all of you, d'you hear me? I don't *need* help,
I don't *want* help, just get *away*!"

Benden Bowl> Above, Ularrith flies downward towards the feeding grounds.

Alyssa backs away with alacrity and nods. "Um, fine, fine, I heard you,
Kassima, sure."

Lysseth> Verenth backwings for a landing.

Lysseth> Dulath bugles loudly, a striking departure from his normal calm
self.

T'lar backs off diplomatically, retrieving his mug. "Sorry."

Lysseth> Melata climbs down Verenth's side to the ground, as the dragon
rumbles softly.

J'bal blinks at her outburst, shrugs massive shoulders, and wanders off
towards the nearest klah pot, acting rather unconcerned.

C'vadan nods to Kassima.

Lysseth> Verenth looks about and snorts, seeing al the commotion.

M'rgan stands against the wall, as far away from Kassi as he can get
without actually becoming one with the stone.

Dragon> Flight sense that Nicoth looks at Adonith and wonders if he'll
need to bite blue tails tonight.

Dragon> Flight sense that Ularrith is more or less here and is worried
that it is less. ;)

Dragon> Flight sense that Kemith bosses his rider around till she goes
to Benden. Heeh.

Dragon> Adonith bespoke Flight with << You'll never catch me
lardbronzebutt. >>

Dragon> Dulath bespoke Flight with << Nicoth, biting Adonith will be the
*only* tail you will get tonight. >>

Dragon> Flight sense that Nicoth shakes his head. Hatchlings.

Dragon> Lysseth bespoke Flight with << Okay, all, blooding should start
soonish in the Feeding Grounds; if you don't know where that is, just say
the word and I'll give directions. Um, lessee, what else... oh, right,
I'll be joining the melee in about five minutes. If you don't want to
win, just be sure to page Kassi sometime before the end, okay? That is
all. Roger, over and out. :) >>

Dragon> Flight sense that Ularrith snorts at the lumbering bronze.
<< That's all you'll be seeing tonight. Everyone's butts. >>

Lysseth> Dulath lumbers south.

Lysseth> Adonith takes flight, using the thermals rising from the bowl
to carry him aloft.

Benden Bowl> Dulath springs into the air for a quick flight over the
fence and into the feeding grounds, where he settles again.

Lysseth> Emmith takes flight, using the thermals rising from the bowl to
carry him aloft.

Benden Bowl> Adonith springs into the air for a quick flight over the
fence and into the feeding grounds, where he settles again.

Lysseth> Above, From the Benden Star Stones, M'nar's mint green Gelth
rears on hind legs and bugles a greeting to brown Kemith and his rider,
Channie of Fort Weyr.

Benden Bowl> Verenth springs into the air for a quick flight over the
fence and into the feeding grounds, where he settles again.

Lysseth> Nicoth looks longingly at the green beauty. With a reluctant
warble, he takes to the skies.

Lysseth> Nicoth takes flight, using the thermals rising from the bowl to
carry him aloft.

Lysseth> Kemith backwings for a landing.

Lysseth> Melata sighs...so much for getting back to HRW on time.

Benden Bowl> Above, Nicoth flies downward towards the feeding grounds.

Benden Bowl> Above, Emmith flies downward towards the feeding grounds.

Benden Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Dulath bugles loudly at Ularrith as
he flies down a unlucky beast, killing it swiftly and taking to its
throat to suck its lifesblood for nourishment.

Lysseth> Kemith offers a soft croon as he settles down, looking back at
his rider as if saying'aren't you off yet'.

Lysseth> Mounted atop Kemith, Channie snorts, "Yeah yeah, hold on oaf!"

Lysseth> Channie slides gracefully down Kemith's shoulder and lands with
a slight bounce on the ground. Kemith gives his lifemate a curious wuffle
as she pats and scritches him lovingly.

Lysseth> Lysseth swivels her head to rumble with faint disappointment as
the males start dispersing... but not for long. Folding her wings back,
she lifts her head to *roar* into the darkly clouded skies!

Lysseth> Kemith *snorts* back and flicks his tail at his lifemate before
crooning again to Lysseth.

Benden Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Verenth hops in over the fence, then
looks about with a disdainful glance before getting down ot the business
of blooding.

Lysseth> Kemith lumbers south.

Benden Bowl> Kemith springs into the air for a quick flight over the
fence and into the feeding grounds, where he settles again.

Channie walks in from the bowl.

C'vadan suddenly grips his cup, knuckles whitening.

Benden Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Adonith descends into the feeding
grounds like dark wraith and wreaks mortal havoc on the flocks below.
Wasting no time with the hunt, he utilizes his foreclaws to down a fat
male wherry in record time, its corpse open at his feet a few heartbeats
later. He rumbles menacingly to the males nearby before plunging his
snout into the opened throat to devour the hapless creature's lifesblood.

Benden Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Nicoth descends out of the grey sky
to land amidst the scattering herds. He dispatches a buck with ease,
ripping its throat out. Lowering his head, he drinks heartily from the
steaming lifeblood as it begins to stain the bright, new snow.

Benden Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Emmith drops swiftly upon the back
of a bellowing herdbeast, quickly and neatly dispatching it with a
lightning thrust of a massive foreclaw. He lands beside it, then
efficiently bloods it, going about his business with a minimum of fuss.

Kethran walks here from the Inner Cavern.

A bellowing roar echoes through the Cavern, attracting Kassi's attention
immediately. "Lysseth," she says in a dangerously quiet voice, "when I
said to be quiet, I did *nay* mean roar so fardling loud that you're
going to shake the dishes off the tables!" That last is practically
screamed as the greenrider clenches her fists around the knife hilt,
*glaring* towards the Bowl exit.

Channie stomps in, muttering about rude lifemates and such, though she
does stop to say a simi-polite "fort's Duty to Benden and her Queen's."
halfheartedly.

Alyssa moans, closing her eyes as she whispers, "Not now. Not again, no
no no..."

T'lar looks bowlward and swears. "Shards. She really is rising."

Benden Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Reserving all his energy for the
coming flight, Ularrith makes no move to chase the beasts. It is to
*she* that he gives the gift of all his youthful strength and cunning,
in honor of her beauty and perfection. It will be his first gift to her,
but not his last.

J'bal blinks, bites off a muttered word, one short syllable, then sighs.

Kethran stumbles into the Living Cavern, grumbling under his breath as
he pours a mug of hot cider for himself. He halts at the roar, and turns
back toward the bowl. "S'all we need," he mutters darkly.

Lysseth> Melata winces as the green roars, "So yer the one that has
Verneth's tail in a knot tonight, is it?"

Kassima rolls her eyes. "So," she says, voice heavy with irony, "'twould
seem. And would you believe, she wasn't even proddy first? Lysseth! How
*dare* you nay give me any warning!!"

T'lar looks at Kassima. He nods mutely.

C'vadan sighs. "Not again..." he mumbles.

M'rgan mutters to a resident who passes by him, "Anymore warning...of
us...be dead."

Benden Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Kemith soars over the feeding
grounds leisurely, landing with a great swirling of dust as he weaves his
head from side to side. He watches the stampeding beasts, taking his time
at picking out just the right one--a good fast creature that just happens
to not be fast enough to escape the brown dragon's crushing jaws. The
poor animal gives one last gurgling yelp of pain as Kemith brings it
down, drinking deeply of the sweetness that flows from it.

Benden Bowl> In the Feeding Grounds, Verenth watches Ularrith out of the
corner of one whirling eye, then changes his attention to bowling over a
wherry that stupidly tried to take refuge under one half unfolded wing.
So much for that bird. *CHOMP*

Lysseth> Lysseth *screams* again, this time letting the harsh sound echo
from the walls of the Bowl and revelling in the repetition before
launching soundlessly into the air.

Channie frowns, then waves to those she knows, working up a tight little
smile even.

Lysseth> You spring into the air and catch the thermals rising from the
bowl floor to carry you aloft.

J'bal drinks his klah mug with a hand that shakes just a little with the
beginnings of dragon-induced emotions. He looks at Kassi intently, blue
eyes widening as he realizes whose green it is.

Lysseth> You fly towards the south end of the bowl.

Lysseth> You fly downwards towards the feeding grounds.

J'bal drinks his klah in his klah mug, rather.

Lysseth> The wherry carcass drained, Adonith swipes it away with
absentminded annoyance, his acute attention already zeroing in on a young
buck who is straying incautiously close to the gorging dragons. CRACK!
goes the young blue's tail, snagging the overly curious herdbeast and
snapping its neck. His honed talon sweeps open the still-pulsing blood
vessels to provide more sustenance for the flight.

Lysseth> Dulath bugles loudly again at Lysseth's arrival. He turns his
attention to the next beast he *needs* to kill and buries his muzzle deep
into its belly.

Channie tries to get over closer to Kassima through the press of bodies,
apparently not seeing the blade she seems to be so friendly with.

C'vadan blinks again, turning to Kassima. He swallows with a dry throat.

Alyssa mutters to herself, apparently, "It's sharding hot in here," and
strides toward the bowl, weaving ever so slightly. Her fingers catch
hold of a wineskin on the way out, thoughtlessly.

Lysseth> Nicoth watches the frightened animals carefully, blood dripping
unnoticed from his muzzle. Seeing the perfect prey, he hops lightly into
the air and calmly knocks the wherry into a large rock. The stunned beast
is dead before it recovers. The sustenance needed for the flight of
desire flows warmly down the bronze's throat.

Alyssa walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.

Lysseth> Lysseth swoops down into the grounds to land daintily in a
fairly clean section, before launching again, directly into a herdbeast
this time. Claws extended, she slices the creature's throat before it
even has time to finish its first bellow of terror; the green then shakes
it cruelly until a *snap* declares its broken neck. Lowering her great
head, Lysseth fastens her fangs to the wound and drinks the welling
lifeblood from the carcass.

Kassima slams her knife into the table, so that it stays there, buried
about halfway up to the hilt. "When I get my hands on you, dragon, you're
going to be dragonskin boots!" is the last yelled curse as she storms
outside.

Lysseth> Emmith finishes lapping up the steaming crimson tide produced
from the first beast. He looks around, croons lightly at the glowing
green, then snakes out a clawed paw, motion blurring with the casual
speed, and hooks another beast running by. He brings it down, quickly,
then rips it from stem to stern, unleashing a torrent of red. He laps.

You walk down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.

C'vadan comes out of the short tunnel from the living cavern.

T'lar comes out of the short tunnel from the living cavern.

Lysseth> Ularrith sits completely motionless, like the trunk of a tree
that he so resembles, as the herdbeasts scatter from the frenzied feeding
of the dragons. A large bovine runs his way, not realizing the brown
dragon is there until it is too late. Ularrith's head lashes out, neatly
decapitating the creature with a *snap* of razor-sharp teeth. He suckles
and licks at the blood flowing from beast's neck, as if the bovine was a
giant, meat popsickle.

Lysseth> Verenth backs up a bit, leaving the carcase in the dirt for the
human butchers who will be coming out later to get the scraps. There are
more important things to do. He skulks along the outside of the pens,
watching the other dragons plunge in the middle of the fury. A herdbeast
makes a break for it...but like a shadow, Verneth is there.

C'vadan follows quickly behind Kassima, placing himself between her and
T'lar.

Benden LC> J'bal casually rises, then strides out after the others.

J'bal comes out of the short tunnel from the living cavern.

Benden LC> M'rgan waits until Kassima is well past before moving out to
the bowl.

Kassima looks around, anger immediately replaced with confusion. "Huh?
Where'd she... oh, fardles. Guess I'll have to make dragonskin boots
later." She turns to shake her fist in the direction of the Feeding
Grounds, screaming, "Blood it, you great overgrown vtol!"

Lysseth> Kemith looks up as Lysseth soars in, the limp and dry body of
the buck slipping through his fore-claws as he forgets about it for the
moment, his attention fully on the glorious beauty. A liquid croon
escapes his maw as he arches his neck, jewel-like eyes glittering and
swirling with his passions as he watches her blooding. It's a moment
before he remembers to blood himself and tears into another buck foolish
enough to attempt to bolt past him.

Lysseth> Dulath finishes his beast and leaps away from the others, rising
up on his haunches and extending his huge wings out fully, his dull brown
hide seeming to shimmer in the moonlight, every powerful muscle
highlighted. He croons softly to Lysseth.

Melata moves aside as the first of the exoduos from the living cavern
into the bowl begins. She looks over the people, trying to pick out the
probably rider of the green...it really isn't all that hard.

Benden LC> Kethran watches the dragonriders file out, and shrugs,
examining the knife for a moment. Then, he drops into a seat, still
muttering, in the now-safe Living Cavern.

Benden LC> Channie grumbles and tries not to trip over herself in her
haste to get out to the bowl.

Channie comes out of the short tunnel from the living cavern.

J'bal reaches in his back pocket, slowly withdrawing a blue cloth. He
wraps it around his forehead, squinting as he looks over in the direction
of the feeding grounds from habit.

M'rgan comes out of the short tunnel from the living cavern.

Channie snarls as she runs headlong into a larger rider and physically
pushes past him.

Lysseth> Lysseth licks the blood from her muzzle and snarls. Overgrown
vtol, is she? Hah! Snaking her tail around the neck of a wherry too slow
and stupid to flee fast enough, she crushes it skillfully and then
lightly rakes it across the back with her talons. Once the corpse is
drained, it flies across the Grounds, flung by the green as she picks out
the next likely prey.

Lysseth> Adonith cannot tear his gaze from Lysseth while he devours his
gory feast, his eyes drinking in Lysseth's loveliness just as his maw
guzzles the herdbeast's blood. His head lifts momentarily, his neck
extends, and a crystal-clear call of desire pierces the air between
Lysseth and himself. Eyes reverberating his excitement and draconic
arousal, he allows himself a moment to study her remarkable and glowing
form before resuming his liquid luncheon.

Lysseth> Nicoth tosses the dessicated carcass aside and moves out of the
press of males. He half unfurls his wings and watches the sinuous beauty
as she bloods her kills.

Lysseth> Verenth drops the herdbeast to the ground, and back off to the
extreme outside...two animals are enough for this blue...too much would
only slow him down. And the image of the green will certainly keep him
going long past the currency of blood, anyway.

Dragon> Nicoth bespoke Flight with <<  Quit that, Adonith. Your poses are
too good. >>
Dragon> Adonith bespoke Flight with << Takes one to know one. >>

C'vadan's eyes dart from rider to rider, sizing up his competition. He
blinks when he realizes how caught up in his lifemate's thoughts he is.

Dragon> Flight sense that Verenth snorts, with a name that sounds like a
Greek God.....

Lysseth> Emmith bloods lightly, foregoing more, experience telling him
that another buck or two, ripped open and gorged, would only slow his
pursuit down. He crouches, muscles bulging from his sleek blue hide,
eyeing the glowing green with eyes of whirling violet desire.

Lysseth> Blood calls to blood, or in this case, to Lysseth, as she tops
off her gore-ridden meal with a growl of disdain for the scrawny bovine
upon which she sups. Once it is drained of all life and fluids, she pulls
herself up and pauses, like a princess surveying her Court. She is in
control, now... and she knows it, all too well. With a last screech of
fury and lust, she springs into the skies faster than the eye can follow.

Lysseth> You spring into the air and catch the thermals rising from the
bowl floor to carry you aloft -- much to the relief of the wherries.

Dragon> Dulath bespoke Flight with << No pulling one over on you, eh,
Verenth? ;) >>

Lysseth> Emmith rises up from the feeding grounds.

Lysseth> Verenth rises up from the feeding grounds.

Lysseth> Ularrith rises up from the feeding grounds.

Lysseth> Adonith rises up from the feeding grounds.

Dragon> Lysseth bespoke Flight with << We'll be going up two skyrooms, to
decrease spam. :) >>

Lysseth> You soar upwards and into the open sky above the Weyr.

Lysseth> Adonith flies up from the southern half of the bowl.

Lysseth> Verenth flies up from the southern half of the bowl.

Lysseth> Emmith flies up from the southern half of the bowl.

Lysseth> Dulath flies up from the southern half of the bowl.

Lysseth> Nicoth flies up from the southern half of the bowl.

Lysseth> Ularrith flies up from the southern half of the bowl.

Lysseth> Kemith flies up from the southern half of the bowl.

Kassima runs her hand through her bangs, glaring futilely at the dragons
as they take flight. With a snarl, she spins on her heel and stalks
towards the guest weyr.

You push aside the curtain and enter the weyr.

Melata comes into the weyr from the bowl.

T'lar comes into the weyr from the bowl.

C'vadan comes into the weyr from the bowl.

Melata trails after.

M'rgan comes into the weyr from the bowl.

C'vadan finds a spot as close to Kassima as he can, yet far from T'lar.

Lysseth> Kemith streaks up in a blaze of golden-brown wings, keeping a
lowly far-back possision at the back of the pack for the moment.

Channie comes into the weyr from the bowl.

Dragon> Dulath bespoke Flight with << Good luck to everyone :) >>

T'lar moves to the far wall where he crosses his arms over his chest and
leans back. His grey eyes have gone dark with desire.

Lysseth> Emmith rises in leisurely pursuit, blue wings sweeping volumes
of air aside, lifting his muscled body higher and higher. He veers
gracefully around slower bronze as he seeks to fly higher and higher.

Dragon> Flight sense that Verenth calls...<< Thanks...you'll need it... >>

Dragon> Adonith bespoke Flight with << Yes! Good luck all! :) >>

J'bal comes into the weyr from the bowl.

Lysseth> Ularrith can just see Lysseth's sensual form through the
blurring wings of the blues in front of him. His movements are big and
slow, but with a graceful strength, as he rises. Dismissively letting the
small blues dart after her, he settles for keeping a steady line to the
source of his need.

Lysseth> Lysseth extends her great wings, revelling in the first stages
of flight, when her strength knows no limits and her energy is boundless.
Winds seem to spring up to carry her on her way, hissing over her wings
as she darts, speeds, and coasts across the bleak skyscape. Her shrill
cry is a taunt to those behind--they'll never catch her, never! With
that, she turns to veer westward, seeking to leave the unworthy ones far
behind her.

Alyssa stumbles to the distant corner and fairly collapses, breathing
quickly, eyes already closed. "Come on, love, come on..."

Dragon> Flight sense that Vilyath rumbles questioningly. << Started
already? >>

J'bal strides in, usual saunter gone, dark blue eyes shifting around the
room. He leans against a wall, thick arms folded, and watches Kassima with
unwinking stare.

Lysseth> Light, powdery snow swirls off the jagged wall of the bowl in the
bronze dragon's wake. The silvery white motes of ice scatter like fire
embers about the gold bronze bulk. Nicoth uses the rising warm air to gain
height for the smaller dragons have the speed. The glow of the green
stands out in glorious contrast to the grey darkness.

Lysseth> Dulath flies high as is his wont, soaring above everyone. His
gaze never leaves that of Lysseth's glowing verdant hide as his calling
croon continues always in her direction. He rides several helpful thermals
to conserve energy as he flies ever towards the green prize that is lovely
Lysseth.

Channie clears her throat as she pushes her small form through the press
of bodies, finaly settling with a nice calm wall space for herself where
she can lean back, and leave the world behind while she flies with her
lifemate. She lids her pale eyes, shutting out everything elese.

Dragon> Flight sense that Lysseth nodnods. << Yep, just started; takeoff
was about a minute ago. >>

Lysseth> Verenth climbs steadily upwards, turning on a sail to face
westwards, but beyond that, not moving much forwards inthe pack. It's not
that he's not interested, no, the purple whirl in his eyes attests to his
interest. And it's not that he can't, for his eagar blue wings have won
him many a green. It is just that now...right now...it is better to be
here....dark wings after green over the Benden bowl.

Dragon> Flight sense that Vilyath sighs. << Oh, well. >>

Lysseth> Adonith cannot be held down for more than an eyelash's blink of
time once Lysseth has taken flight: she carries his life's desires and so,
of course, he must give chase. Unfurling his wings, he captures a frost-
licked thermal in this, his home bowl, his territory, and with a trumpet
of glee he sprints aloft in reckless pursuit of the fleeing Lysseth.

Dragon> Adonith bespoke Flight with << Wooooo, Nicoth. Pretty good,
bronzebutt. ;) >>

C'vadan tries to control his breathing as he watches Kassima's every
moment... every rise and fall of her chest as she breathes, every
flickering moment of her eyes.

Kassima slumps back against the wall, eyes already gone blank as she lifts
her head to stare at... well, nothing. Perhaps something beyond the weyr
walls that can be seen by no one else; at any rate, she is one with her
dragon, and her expression of feral bliss only accentuates this.

Dragon> Nicoth bespoke Flight with <<  Oh, not so bad yourself, wart. >>

Dragon> Lysseth bespoke Flight with << Boys, boys, are you hear to call
names, or chase me? ;) >>

Melata looks back and forth, from the rider of the green, to the tunnel
leading out to where her lifemate flies, back and forth in indecision...
both call...

Lysseth> Emmith pumps his powerful pinions to gain altitude, resting now
and then to soar upon a thermal. He wastes not his breath crooning,
saving it for the contest ahead. Cocking his head, he watches the glowing
green, hungrily.

Dragon> Dulath bespoke Flight with << I have only one goal, lovely
Lysseth. You. >>

Lysseth> Ularrith tumbles for a moment, his wings stalling, as an errant
crosswind of cold and snow strikes him. He swerves desperately to avoid a
collision with a large bronze, their wingtips just passing within inches
of each other. His cries of anguish turn to buglings of joy as the swerve
takes into a thermal and he rises higher and higher.

Hugging her knees to her, Alyssa sits shivering in the corner, bereft of
her riding jacket and clad in her tunic and breeches only. Still, the
chill bumps that prickle her skin and the shaking of her slender form are
not from the Benden night air but from the emotions reverberating from
her dragon to herself.

Lysseth> Kemith keeps his distance, or rather, refuses to tire himself out
so soon in this little chasing game. He keeps to the rear of the group,
enjoying the view of Lysseth's flagging tail, and the rippling of her
glowing green hide as she dances in the air.

Dragon> Lysseth senses that Dulath lets his song reach for you, hoping to
capture your attention with its sincerity.

Lysseth> Nicoth watches his clutchmate's flight of freedom. Her darting and soaring
quick and agile, putting the males to shame. He keeps a fairly straight
course, slowly building speed and gaining position. This beauty will not
escape so easily or for too long.

Lysseth> Lysseth sweeps her wings back, moonlight-on-grey making her seem
as though she is another of the clouds... a glowing green cloud, though,
and one that moves much faster than any true skyborn fog. Whirling eyes
alight with amethyst fire, she opens her wings fully to drop at an
alarming rate towards the Bowl--only to pull up again. That trick is too
old; she must come up with something else, something that will let her
keep this glorious and newly rediscovered freedom! The shrill song of the
whistling air urges her forward, farther, faster, compelled by something
she can't identify to push herself to her ultimate limits.

T'lar sighs and watches Kassima hungrily.

Lysseth> Silver-sheened wings flush against him, body spiralling, Adonith
executes a complete roll in the upper atmosphere of the bowl to wend
downward and slither his indigo way between two impetuous blues in
pursuit, his goal the forefront of the pack. A achingly amorous
passionate bugle calls to Lysseth, announcing his presence, announcing
his relentless intent. Speed is his wingmate, agility his rider...with
these companions and his bold determination shall he pay his court to
Lysseth.

Dragon> Adonith bespoke Flight with << Whoops. I hate not having that
semicolon. :) Sorry for the spam. :) >>

Lysseth> Verenth watches the green, draconic thoughts evident as eyes
speed and slow their whirling. This green needs a different approach.
Sucking in breath, then exhailing it mightly in a great plume of steam,
he breaks out of the main pack, rising up, then dipping down, underneath,
surging forwards in the sky directly at the green tail.

Kassima's hands scrabble against the back wall as she seeks for purchase,
trying to pull herself back up. Succeeding, finally, she stares at each
rider in turn, her emerald eyes shadowed... glows are lit, but no one's
home in Kassima's mind. She's still flying with Lysseth, exploring the
winds and a unity with her dragon that the dissentious pair almost never
experience otherwise.

Lysseth> Dulath stays ever high, tracking the beautiful green like the
feline stalks his prey. But Lysseth is not a simple prey, but the living,
flying embodiement of everything that is dragonkind. His croon grows
louder as he winges ever closer. She will see him. She *must* see him.

Lysseth> Emmith levels off, watching Lysseth's dive with wise eyes. Not
diving, he instead levels off, then accelerates slowly, tracking her from
above, blue wings flailing the night air with strong strokes. Paying no
attention to the acrobatics of the others, he conserves every bit of
energy, knowing it'll pay off.

J'bal eyes Kassima as she scrabbles at the back wall. He moves slightly,
looking over shorter riders, watching her every movement, the grace
inherent within.

C'vadan runs his hand though his hair and tugs at his collar. Even though
his clothing is light and the air chill, he feeling like he is on fire.

Channie's lips curl into a faint smile, the expression on her face one of
wonder, yet she keeps her eyes closed, her attention removed from the
body--feeling only those emotions and senses of her lifemate.

Lysseth> Kemith croons his desire and longing as he watches, darting
forward in excitement as Lysseth dives down, only to discover it's only
one of her little ploys to get away! Why would the lovely one want to get
away--his croon seems to ask as he speeds his flight, streatching himself
flat and lean to knife cleaning through thei Benden Sky, legs held close
against his rippling creamy-brown hide.

Lysseth> Nicoth's great wings stroke the air strongly and steadily.
Powerful muscles move like oiled silk beneath the smooth hide. He croons
encouragement to Lysseth. Fly free while you can, beautious one.

Lysseth> Ularrith folds his wings, plunging down into the bowl for a
heart-stopping moment, the air screaming in anger as he splits it like a
hot pick through ice. But this maneuver frees him from the pack of
salivating males and now he can soar towards *her* unencumbered by
anything but his burning desire.

Lysseth> Lysseth may see her pursuers, but she does not wish to; their
presence is only a grim reminder that this wondrous flight, the liberty
of the Four Winds, must eventually end. Unless... unless she can outfly
them all, as greens have tried to do since the dawn of dragonkind. But
*she* can succeed--she is Lysseth! A swoop of green-grey cuts across the
skies as she skyrockets, not downwards, but up, and to the east. The
ichor pounds in her veins, calling the sweet music of adrenaline and
stamina to her wings and wit.

Lysseth> Verenth rumbles deep in his throat, although such a sound can
barely be heard when the wind is still and people are right next to him,
much less on such a night in such a filght. The green will eventually
come, will eventually see that males aren't such a bad thing...especially
the blue one from High Reaches. Until then, he gamely keep up, back a
couple of length from the green tail. A dangerous position, yes, but also
one of opportunity.

Lysseth> Nicoth banks over to the airspace above the hot springs. A
column of very warm air rises swiftly here, rocketing him high above the
bowl and the pack of lust-ridden males. From this lofty vantage, the
dynamics of the flight of dragons is easily read. Seeing Lysseth's attempt
to flee east, he banks in that direction and waits for her to complete her
ascent, right into his path.

Lysseth> Emmith adjusts his flight, banking slightly towards the east,
tracking the green two dragonlengths above her. He breaks silence to croon
once, telling Lysseth of his strength, his desire, his love, then lapses
again into silence, broken only by the rush of night air past his wings.

Alyssa raises her head to regard Kassima momentarily, her amethyst eyes
echoing the impassioned tint of her dragon's eyes as well. Moistening dry
lips, she looks away, redoubling her efforts to concentrate.

Lysseth> Adonith strokes strongly and steadily with his vibrantly hued
wings, the delicate yet sturdy bone-supported membranes knifing through
the winter chill as Rukbat's light cleaves the heart of morning fog,
dispatching fingerlength after fingerlength of distance separating him
from *her*. He is grace and determination awing, a fitting challenger for
Lysseth's lissome beauty, a courtier worthy, perhaps, of her ardent
embrace.

Melata is now staring at the wall.

Lysseth> Dulath bugles in triumph as Lysseth's path brings her to his
level of flight. With two rapid snaps of his wings, he is propelled ever
closer to her glorious luminescent and ever graceful form. Ignoring the
feeble attempts of the other males to catch Lysseth, his purple eyes whirl
with his desire as he closes.

Lysseth> Ularrith's eyes glint with open desire as he drinks in her
breathtaking sight. Her eyes are the color of the finest Benden red, warm,
soothing, and able to take you to the highest of highs, and the lowest of
lows. Her skin is the leaves on the most perfect of vines, illuminated by
Rukbat on a spectaculure summer day. And her talons...well, those are
something that he remembers to watch for if he gets close enough to catch
her. But for that skin, he is willing to risk those talons. His beats get
stronger and stronger.

T'lar crosses and recrosses his arms. He stands upright for a moment
before sinking back against the wall.

Lysseth> Kemith follows the rocketing green upwards, his wings pumping
smoothly as he tags along behind her, and behind several of her other
suitors. His silken hide glistens with the inner workings of his muscles
as they coil and release with the beautiful movement of flight. He watches
her intently, her effortless display driving him higher and higher in his
desire for her, his desire to dance as one with her.

Benden Weyr> J'cob says, "We're awful dead tonigt, aren't we?"

Dragon> Flight sense that Ularrith really needs a spell-checker. ;) :P

C'vadan takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. Without realizing it, he
has taken to small steps closer to Kassima.

J'bal sinks down into a squat on his heels, blue headband darkening with
sweat. Bracing his back against the wall, J'bal unfocuses his eyes,
thoughts whirling away to be with Emmith.

Benden Weyr> P'tran points to Kassima's flight going on now :)

Benden Weyr> Meli says, "Flight, J'cob."

Benden Weyr> J'cob says, "Or is it just that Greenflight ;)"

Lysseth> Lysseth opens her jaws to let loose with a great crystalline
*BUGLE*, both announcement and challenge combined in the single sound.
Never can any mere male be as swift, as canny as she--but ah, to prove it,
that might be a difficult thing... for any other dragon. But not for her.
Twisting on her tail, she doubles back along her track, hurtling straight
down at breakneck speed. She seems ignorant of the rocky embrace of the
ground rushing to meet her as she plummets, narrowly missing a gruesome
demise as she actually comes near enough the ground to make such a fate a
possibility before snapping open her wings with a *crack* of air. Up, up,
and away!

Benden Weyr> J'cob <= Silly-feeling now.

Benden Weyr> Kassima grins, then gets back to business. :)

Lysseth> Verenth winces a bit, a shrug of air, as the green turns on tail,
showing how dangerous his position truely is. He wants the green, and will
catch her, but he is not stupid. He lets Lysseth have her fun, have her
plunge to the ground, but when she is back up to where she is farther from
the ground, he is back, right behind her, a few lengths back of the tail.
Purple eyes, soundless wings, midnight-blue (yet silvered) hide...Verenth
is there.

Kassima makes no further attempt to come to her senses; who would *want*
to, with the rare feeling of the wind and sky surging through her soul?
Instead, she sits, folding her arms around her knees and tilting her head
back to look towards the ceiling--or rather, she would be looking, if her
eyes weren't closed.

Lysseth> Dulath is not discouraged by Lysseth's warning bugle, but only
driven to try harder. Deciding that his best chance at capturing this most
wonderful of treasures would be a near-careless use of his reserves, he
pushes himself harder to fly faster than the others, hovering just above
Lysseth, his loving croon becoming lost in the audible snaps of his
wingtips.

Lysseth> Nicoth folds his wings along his flanks and dives toward the
object of his perfect desire. Flipping open his wings with a snap, he
banks back to keep on her trail. Faceted eyes whirl purple with arousal.
He answers her bugle with one of his own. Sinews and tendons stand out in
stark relief as he strains to get nearer and nearer.

Lysseth> Emmith is nearly caught by surprise, but recovers by quickly
dropping and turning at the same time, loss of altitude fueling his speed
as he breaks back into level flight, 180 degrees away from where he was
just a minute ago. He accelerates again, blue body blurring in pursuit,
still above the green prize, slowly gaining on her.

Dragon> Dulath bespoke Lysseth with << Know I will carry you when you
tire, lovely one. Allow me to carry you. >>

Lysseth> Ularrith's muscles bulge, appearing to leap right out of his hide
as he banks to follow her soaring flight. All the while he continues to
move through the pack of males surrounding her, using talons and tail
where necessary. He answers her bugle with a croon, his voice rising as he
calls to her, seeking to enrapture her with his voice if he can't capture
her body.

Lysseth> Adonith bellows frustration as fate and wind, not to mention
Lysseth's own fleet-winged grace and reckless downward plunge, momentarily
carry the object of his enamoured fancy further away from him. Sinews
crack and tendons strain as he stretches himself further, faster, toward
Lysseth, she who is a testament to Kitty Ping's design so many generations
ago, a shimmering marriage of dexterity and strength. His claws flail
furiously at the empty air, his throat spits forth a fiery call to her.

Dragon> Flight sense that Emmith blinks at Adonith. Wow.

Dragon> Adonith bespoke Flight with << What, the fiery call? Had nachos
for dinner. >>

Lysseth> Kemith *BUGLES* to Lysseth, as if, just perhaps, warning her of
her danger, yet his bugles is for nothing as he watches her take care of
herself, and his callings turn to throaty croonings as he turns to follow
her, not nearly as graceful, and not nearly as fast, but he's faster then
most of those other males he was playing second fiddle to! Now he's a bit
above Her, yet still behind, his tail lashes in his frustration.

C'vadan's eyes snap open as he realizes he was reaching for Kassima. He
swallows loudly and coughs as his mind fights his lifemate's urging for
him to take Kassima into his arms as Dulath calls to Lysseth.

Dragon> Kemith bespoke Flight with << Spicy enchalada? *yum* >>

Dragon> Flight sense that Verenth ohhhhs? Was the call out the front
end....or the back?

Dragon> Adonith bespoke Flight with << Back end. All you slower dragons
beware. >>

Dragon> Flight sense that Lysseth hates semi-colons, too.

Benden Weyr> Meli scares her cat laughing at the flight DTU talk :)

Dragon> All dragons sense that Kemith snorts

Lysseth> Emerald and depthless jade with a soft brushing of silver, and
two glowing amethysts to pinpoint her way--this is Lysseth, this soaring
dragoness who flings herself into the wide, uncaring heavens. But even
her devil-may-care recklessness cannot sustain her forever... blood
strengthens her, but that strength is waning as much as the moons above.
Desperation gains a clawhold in the green's heart and soul as she beats
those great, dimming wings, not once, but thrice--seeking, without
success, the glory and joy that were hers at the start of this flight. To
no avail. But nonetheless, she tries, as she knows she *must*. Now is not
the time to rest! Now is the time to strive, to rebel, to go against
nature's call and seek the true triumph! Escape!

Dragon> All dragons sense that Gwirith croons affectionately to Kemith.

Dragon> Flight sense that Lysseth apologizes for the doublemint spam, and
swears to eventually code a way to use semi-colons in dragon poses.
Anyway. ;)

Lysseth> As the dragons near the ground, the light spilling out of the
many ledges reflects off hide chromatic and metallic. Multicolored stars
come to ground to dance on the air within the old volcano. The snap and
crack of membraneous wings blends with the rush of the wind to create a
symphony of primitive sound. Nicoth flips his tail at an encroaching
brown. He slips sideways to avoid a faltering blue and, suddenly, he *is*
closer.

Dragon> Adonith bespoke Flight with << You can in poses, just not in
@emits. >>

Dragon> All dragons sense that Kemith gets all distracted by Gwirith's
crooning and warbles back to Gwirith.

Lysseth> Verenth watches as green wings start to slow, speed, slow...yes,
males will always be there for the greens. They may try to escape, but
nature must take its course. Blue wings start to beat in time with green,
staying ever back of that green tail that waves in front of face,

Dragon> Flight sense that Verenth grumbles, and will do that again...
okay? Bad pinky finger.

Lysseth> Ularrith furls his wings for a moment, twisting to the side,
barely avoiding a slash of talons as another brown drops on top of him.
Venom drips from tones as he shrieks a warning to the other dragon as he
soars away. His wingsstrokes begin to resemble that of a blue, furiously
beating as he seeks to close the gap between himself and the sensual
green whom he longs to join with. For all his need for her, he revels in
the excitement of the chase, and now he warbles softly, sadly, as he sees
her flagging strength. All too soon, it will be over.

Kassima hisses through her teeth, a low warning to those who are, already,
far too close for comfort. Like her lifemate, she seeks escape, clawing
against the wall as though trying to gouge out a passage route leading
out.

Lysseth> Dulath sees his purpose becoming ever clear to his driven mind.
He *must* capture Lysseth as he *must* let her know that she is the most
marvelous creature in all of Pern and beyond. His wings burn as they
drive his huge bulk closer and closer to the defiant green. He offers
himself as the only support she will ever need. He offers his wings and
legs and ichor and breath behind every croon and call to her so she will
have no doubt in his crystal clear sincerity.

Lysseth> Verenth watches as green wings start to slow, speed, slow...yes,
males will always be ther foer the greens. The may try to escape, but
natryue must take its course. Blue wings start to beat in time with green,
staying just beyond green tail. He is here, ever near...Verenth of the
moon-lit wings is here.

Lysseth> Emmith continues to accelerate in level flight, losing a little
altitude as he gains speed. Banking slightly to slipstream around an
older bronze, his movements like quicksilver shining in the light of the
double moons, he watches Lysseth, two dragonlengths below and one ahead
of him, slowly gain in size. He croons his desire again, the sound echoing
off the bowl walls.

Lysseth> Kemith zips to one side, and then the other, dodging males who
gave too much of themselves too soon, and crows his pleasure at leaving
them far behind him. Now he drives all his strength and power into flying
faster, and higher, he has no more time to waste, and he's been at the
back of this little race far too long! His strong wings carry him higher
and closer to Her.

C'vadan wills himself to step back, but his body will not respond. It is
everything he can do to not continue his efforts forward towards the
beautiful Kassima.

Lysseth> Adonith screams black, bloody rage at the *fools* who dare
approach Lysseth, who in their petty-minded, pretentious lust *dare* to
consider themselves worthy of Lysseth, grand, glorious, and graceful
Lysseth. He arrows beyond a faltering brown, presses past the elder blue
to his left; her glowing form caressing his bejewelled eyesight, he is
driven onward not just by his need but by undeniable desire for
flawlessness...for that is what Lysseth aloft *is*.

Channie gulps, her face twisting into an expression of need, and
desperation that she shares fully with her airborne lifemate.

Dragon> Flight sense that Nicoth has lost track. Do I need to pose again
yet?

Lysseth> Lysseth flips open her wings, seeking with all haste and
desperation a current, a thermal, *anything* that will keep her from
losing her freedom so quickly. Not just when she's found it again!
Stubbornly, she persists even in the face of inevitable defeat. She will
not be won so easily! Nor without sacrifice, it seems--for she dives to
rake her claws cruelly along the back of a brown (NPC) dragon who dares
think he can approach her. Screeching her triumph at the male's scream,
she hurtles forward without pause nor continued attempts to lose the ones
who chase. She is too tired... speed is her only recourse, not guile.

Dragon> Adonith bespoke Flight with << Now you do. >>

J'bal focuses his eyes back on the form of Kassima for a moment, seeming
to see Lysseth superimposed on her. He blinks, starting to grin until
reality slides back.

Lysseth> Nicoth adjusts to the varying winds with delicate, constants
movements of wing and tail. He moves to get the green between himself and
the unyielding wall of the bowl. Slow her down, but boxing her in. He
senses the beginnings of her desperation and fatigue. Her glow is
diminished, but not his desire, his need, for her and her alone.

T'lar lowers his arms slowly, giving into the heat and urgency of the
flight. His breath comes in fast, shallow gulps. He takes a step toward
Kassima.

Dragon> Flight sense that Lysseth is reluctant to let this end, you've
all been so wonderful! But, let's try for one more set of poses before
the capture attempts, and then I'll embroil myself in the hardest
decision I've ever had to make. :)

Dragon> Jyrith bespoke Flight with << Oh! Well then We can all have
flights too right after you Lysseth! :) >>

Lysseth> Verenth goes forward, wings are starting to tire, for he is
built for speed, not the endurance this Benden green is showing. Still,
he is of High Reaches, and proud of it. Reaching deep for that last bit
of blood-quicked reflex, he forces himself to keep up, to keep that green
tail within reach. Amazingly, tendons groaning, he even manages to inch
forwards, a talon-length at a time.

Dragon> Flight sense that Juliath waggles her eyeridges.

Lysseth> Dulath closes his eyes momentarily as he finds some inner
reserves to draw from. With a loud bugle echoing his desire, he wings
himself as a mere shadow of her glowing, glorious green form, trying to
ape her every moment as his tail tries to find her.

Dragon> Flight sense that Nicoth peeers over at Juliath and licks his
lips.

C'vadan snarls at T'lar as the rider approaches. With a quick motion,
Cav's elbow snaps into T'lar's chest.

Lysseth> Emmith nears the glowing form of Lysseth, now above and slightly
behind. Feeling his movements starting to tire slightly, he reaches deep
within his blue body to tap the reserves of energy lurking there,
energizing his movements to pulse forward. He senses the end of the
contest near, and prepares to move closer.

Lysseth> Ularrith must sadly cut this intricate courtship short as the
relentless, driving rhythm of his wings takes him above her. Every air
current seeming to pull him closer and closer to her as if the entire
Bowl was routing for him. Love turns to lust as he can see every ripple,
every fleck in her hide clearly and his eyes become a maelstrom of purple
and crimson.

Kassima flattens herself against the wall, breathing harshly and favoring
T'lar with her most extreme glare. She lashes out with her fist, not
bothering to register whether or not the blow connected as she tries to
back even farther away.

Lysseth> Kemith snorts loftily at the male who got his just reward for
his foolishness, darting past his falling form. All the better, one less
male to get in his air-space, to get into HER way! Yes--glorious Lysseth
and her beautiful beguilling sky-dance! His wings move in a flurry of
swirling wingsails as he jets forward, ziping up to her right, attempting
to get closer--and closer to her untouchable form.

T'lar gasps and falls to one knee. Kassima's blow goes over his head. The
look he gives Cav is truely deadly.

Melata snaps her head about to watch to see what she missed.

Lysseth> Youthful puissance teaming with the agility with which he was
blessed from the shell, Adonith soars onward and upward, gaining altitute
by the timely gift of a thermal that fills the luminous sails of his
outstretched wings, affording him a moment's respite from the fatigue
lingering on the edges of his awareness. He can sense her fatigue, he
can *taste* her nearness....now he seeks to woo her, to win her to his
suit. A sweet croon edged by his individualistic appeal thrusts forward
to split the night air, sonorous symphonic delight to a dragon's hearing.

Dragon> Flight sense that Verenth asks if he can borrow your Thesaurus,
Adonith?

J'bal flicks a disinterested glance at the battling males, then shrugs
and returns his fascinated stare to Kassima.

Channie keeps her eyes lidded, her attention so far removed from the hear
and now she seems not to even notice the encounter.

Dragon> Flight sense that Adonith ummms...

Lysseth> Beat, beat, beat... the rhythm of wings on wind is all Lysseth
can afford to think about now. Beat, beat, beat. She spares enough
attention for those behind to give a quick, weary dip in her flight path,
but that sends her careening off-course and down. Beat, beat, beat... she
mustn't pay them any heed, not if she wishes to win--as she now begins to
realize she cannot. But maybe she can hold them off a bit longer? Beat,
flap, beat, flap....

Dragon> Ularrith bespoke Flight with << Pose attempts now? >>
Dragon> Lysseth bespoke Flight with << Precisement. :) >>

Alyssa does not spare Kassima a glance; she need not look at the rider
to know her presence and nearness, for the young woman's form and lithe
beauty haunt her vision even with her eyes tightly shut. "Faster, faster,
love, faster," the bluerider chants incessantly. "Almost there..."

Lysseth> Kemith silently makes his move, not even the whistling of the
wind over his wingsails giving his movement away as he turns his larger
form towards Lysseth's misty-green body. His neck coils around towards
her, reaching out at the same time his strong tail spirals out in his
hopeful attempt to entwine himself with her.

Lysseth> Verenth is perfectly matching each green beat with one of his
own. Wings up and wings down in perfect sychronacy, tired blue keeping up
with tired green trying to stay ahead. He breaks the pattern momentarily
to inch forwards again, again, again, then he goes back to the rhythm. He
cocks one purple eye upwards, contemplating deep (yet shallow) thoughts,
then flicks a wing upwards, out of beat, trying to ensnare her pinions in
his.

Lysseth> Dulath is no longer crooning and has no voice left for a bugle.
He spends all of his energy keeping up with Lysseth and avoiding the
annoying blues, browns and bronzes. 'He *must* capture her' is the only
thought his desire-addled mind can comprehend. He *must*. His exhausted
muscles scream as they fight to keep him aloft and near the glowing
prize. His tail snakes ever forward to twine with hers.

Lysseth> Nicoth lashes out at Dulath who has moved up beneath him. Razor
sharp talons slash the air inches above the mud-brown back. A mighty
surge of wing puts him past the brown. He arrows down toward the emerald
form. A croon of enticement, soothing and inviting involuntarily escapes
his throat as he extends his neck to entwine. Tail, wings and talons
reach to entangle, hold and caress.

Lysseth> Emmith thinks "Now!" and folds his wings to drop, an azure
meteor in the dim light, trading altitude for speed. He weaves once, then
snaps wings to flare out, a heartbeat above the laboring green, neck and
tail reaching out to entangle Lysseth, crooning softly at her.

C'vadan suddenly falls to his knees, sharing his lifemate's exhaustion.
He can barely keep his eyes open, but he does, never allowing Kassima to
leave his view.

Dragon> Nicoth bespoke Flight with <<  Whew! Long days make for fewer
brain cells. >>

Dragon> Dulath bespoke Flight with << That is even too easy an opening
for me, Nicoth ;) >>

Melata is watching the rider of that wild green steadily now, no longer
staring at tunnel to the bowl, no longer staring at wall.

Dragon> Flight sense that Lysseth hoards her brain cell; she's going to
need it, to choose between this crowd. Sheesh! Y'all really know how to
make it tough on a dragon, don't you? :)

Lysseth> With each flap of Lysseth's wings, Ularrith dips his head, like
a drunken teenager moving in time with reggae music. His wings furl as he
drops above, neck and tail seeking the source of his need.

T'lar spares the brownrider one more vengeful look before rising to his
feet. He stands stock still, all his attention focused on the female here
and the one in the night skies.

Dragon> Flight sense that Verenth leers at Lysseth? That help?

Dragon> Flight sense that Nicoth offers her flowers and chocolates.

Lysseth> Adonith creels to Lysseth, calls to Lysseth, croons to Lysseth,
her proximity to him -- just below and to his left -- a tantalizing and
taunting tease that sends each of his senses reeling. Mindless and
heedless of nothing but the emerald essence of his green quarry, the
youthful Benden blue realizes his time is now, his moment is *this*.
Wingtip seeking to foul hers, neck and tail sidling downward in her
direction, he intends to make her his own and bring her, with him, safely
home.

Dragon> Flight sense that Adonith WHEWs. Hard through pages.

J'bal rises to his feet, a gasp rasping from his bull throat as he senses
the end. He takes a step towards the greenrider, burly body tense.

Dragon> Flight sense that Dulath offers frequent flier milage.

Dragon> Nicoth bespoke Flight with <<  I just realized that Vidarth is
missing. >>

Dragon> Kemith bespoke Flight with << Thanks for the Fun Flight Lysseth!
^_^ >>

Dragon> Flight sense that Verenth starts a drumroll...and the winner
is......<< Yah, great flight! Fun for everyone. >>

Dragon> Jyrith bespoke Flight with << Why doesn't anyone waggle their
eyeridges at me ever ? :) >>

Dragon> Flight sense that Nicoth wishes he would remember to log these
things. It's been great, everyone.

Dragon> Flight sense that Ularrith warbles his thanks as well. << I had
a great time too. >>

Dragon> Flight sense that Adonith has been overwhelmed at the quality of
the poses tonight. VERY impressive, all!

Dragon> Flight sense that Lysseth okies and collects the voting; pretty
soon, we'll have the envelope containing the name of the next Miss
America--ahem, excuse me, wrong contest. :) You have all been absolutely
*fabulous*, and I'd just like to dragosnug everyone of ye before
announcing the final decision. :)

Dragon> Flight sense that Kessith has been watching, and has a log of
almost all of it,. except for bits where my computer froze. Could be
edited up...

Dragon> Flight sense that Nicoth smiles, begs, pleads.

Dragon> Flight sense that Emmith thinks this was a great flight. Thanks,
Lysseth.

Dragon> Flight sense that Adonith wonders if he can win Miss Congeniality.

Dragon> Dulath bespoke Flight with << I am always amazed at the quality
of people's poses. Especially yours, Lysseth. >>

Dragon> Flight sense that Adonith NODS.

Dragon> Flight sense that Lysseth notes before writing the pose that it
would be monstrously ironic of the Log Queen didn't log her own flight. ;)
Oh, yeah, one more thing--last call, anyone who *doesn't* want to win? :)

Dragon> Flight sense that Dulath votes Nicoth Most Likely To Catch His Own
Shadow.:)

Dragon> Flight sense that Nicoth thbbts Dulath.

Dragon> Flight sense that Juliath snorts at Nicoth from afar. << Silly
Bronze. >>

Dragon> Flight sense that Adonith twiddles his wings.

Dragon> Flight sense that Dulath watches Adonith drop likle a rock when he
twiddles.

Dragon> Flight sense that Kemith baps Adonith with a nerf bat

Lysseth> Lysseth concentrates solely on her flight and fleeing... beat,
beat, beat... until she finds herself surrounded by the cloud of dragons.
No escape now, no way to battle her way through, though she tries her best
regardless--but in smacking an impertinent (and conveniently NPC, again)
bronze with her wing, she sends herself swinging wildly off-course and
directly into Adonith.

Dragon> Flight sense that Lysseth snugs you all, thank you! This flight
has been both my pleasure and my horror to be in and choose from. :)
Dragon> Nicoth bespoke Flight with <<  I vote that Adonith be banned from
flights. He wins to much. Congrats, blueboy! >>
Dragon> Flight sense that Verenth snorts...of /course/ the dragon with
the name of a Greek God gets it....now if we had another name Zeuth...no
one would /ever/ win. :)
Dragon> Flight sense that Dulath laughs and congratulates Adonith :)

Lysseth> Dulath flies downward towards the north end of the bowl.

Dragon> Flight sense that Adonith is humbled by his company and thinks
you all win.
Dragon> Flight sense that Emmith congratulates Adonith, and goes off to
sulk.

Lysseth> Ularrith avoids a collision with a blue as Lysseth veers from
his grasp.

C'vadan leaves the weyr and heads out into the bowl.

Lysseth> Ularrith flies downward towards the north end of the bowl.

Dragon> Flight sense that Juliath thinks Adonith'll be walking funny
after this week is over.

T'lar leaves the weyr and heads out into the bowl.

Dragon> Flight sense that Adonith falls over.

M'rgan leaves the weyr and heads out into the bowl.

Lysseth> Nicoth flies downward towards the north end of the bowl.

Lysseth> Kemith *BUGLES* in a furry of disapointment as he rolls neatly
in the air, and away from the tangle of blue and green.

Lysseth> Verenth veers off, rumbling his disappointment as he goes
downwards.

Lysseth> Kemith flies downward towards the north end of the bowl.

Lysseth> Verenth flies downward towards the north end of the bowl.

Melata leaves the weyr and heads out into the bowl.

Channie leaves the weyr and heads out into the bowl.

J'bal growls low in his throat, then stalks out, lashing out at the door
in fury.

J'bal leaves the weyr and heads out into the bowl.

Lysseth> Adonith draws Lysseth to him in a screaming blizzard of bugling
joy that descends to a croon of pleasure, his wings braking both their
descents, his tail, his neck, his essence wrapped around her as he makes
her one with him.

Dragon> Flight sense that Adonith makes a lame pose at the end. :P

Lysseth> Emmith bugles in fury and frustration as he sees his green taken
from him at the last moment, then drops towards the ground, seeking the
solace of J'bal.

Dragon> Adonith bespoke Lysseth with << Where to, Batman? >>

Lysseth> I bespoke Adonith with << To the Batmobile, Robin! Oh, wait...
it's in the shop. Hmmm. Ledge, or lake? Your weyr or mine? *Waggles
eyeridges.* >>

Dragon> Adonith bespoke Lysseth with << The weyrmate's dragon is there...
ah...your place, hunny? >>

Lysseth> Adonith senses that Lysseth, curiously reminded of Winnie the
Pooh who always had honey spelled wrong on those pots of his, gets out
her road map. << North on L-61, then take the LYS exit.... >>