Post by Deleted on Nov 24, 2018 16:48:39 GMT -5
Karredy - Gold Zalmaranth (Infirmary)
A bronze came out of between--Zenoth, she knew from the light, almost-tan shade of his hide--and he was full-on thrashing, dripping ichor from his Threadscores while F’mol sagged limp in the straps.
"Come on, Zal!"
Zenoth! Zalmaranth called. You need to let-- But the bronze's lashing tail clipped her wing: She hissed at the pain, but didn’t hold it against him. Should I get a hold of him? And the gold reared up on her hind legs, as if she was about to start grappling.
“Zal, no!” Karredy ordered. “We need to get F’mol off first!”
Very well. Zalmaranth lowered back onto all fours. Zenoth! She ordered. Stay still!
With that, she pressed at Zenoth’s mind--and Karredy winced at the strange feeling that her queen was now mentally pinning him to the ground instead of physically. But presently the bronze’s protests stopped, so Karredy untied F’mol’s straps and got him to the waiting healers, while the dragonhealers attended to Zenoth.
Of course, then there was B’zor and Leviath to deal with, and a whole string of other injuries as well; what on earth was happening up there? Karredy wondered. She hoped the last half of Fall was going to be easier.
---
C’mor - Blue Zardilath
Are you all right, Zardilath? C’mor wondered as the Weyrleader’s wing shifted to low position. His blue was on the bigger end, so the endurance training for the wing’s blues and greens wasn’t too hard, but he still lacked the sheer muscle that the browns and bronzes had.
Fine, was the only answer. I’m tired, but not too much. We’re moving lower, anyway.
Don’t say that just because you don’t want me to worry. C’mor took some firestone out and tossed it into Zardilath’s mouth.
Everything worries you, Zardilath reminded him with a mental nudge of affection.
---
Gisellaine - Green Zedorianth
The sheets of Thread were mercifully almost taken care of, though there was still a mess of strands and clumps to deal with. As Historith told them to take the high position, the command delighted Zedorianth and worried her rider--now she’d have to deal with MORE of Zedorianth’s energy. No doubt the Weyrleader’s wing was starting to tire.
More Thread! The green bugled. Almost as soon as they’d finished changing formation, Zedorianth found a cluster of silver strands behind them, and she somersaulted and curved upside-down for the chase, eyes whirling red.
Zedo! Oh, it never ended--Gisellaine hung on for dear life and tried to focus on her dragon’s neck ridges. Zedo, right-side up!
Sorry! The green flipped over without skipping a beat, nearly cracking Gisellaine’s chin on her neck, before her gaping mouth flamed the nearest strand of Thread.
C’mor color: Red
Gisellaine: Tan
A bronze came out of between--Zenoth, she knew from the light, almost-tan shade of his hide--and he was full-on thrashing, dripping ichor from his Threadscores while F’mol sagged limp in the straps.
"Come on, Zal!"
Zenoth! Zalmaranth called. You need to let-- But the bronze's lashing tail clipped her wing: She hissed at the pain, but didn’t hold it against him. Should I get a hold of him? And the gold reared up on her hind legs, as if she was about to start grappling.
“Zal, no!” Karredy ordered. “We need to get F’mol off first!”
Very well. Zalmaranth lowered back onto all fours. Zenoth! She ordered. Stay still!
With that, she pressed at Zenoth’s mind--and Karredy winced at the strange feeling that her queen was now mentally pinning him to the ground instead of physically. But presently the bronze’s protests stopped, so Karredy untied F’mol’s straps and got him to the waiting healers, while the dragonhealers attended to Zenoth.
Of course, then there was B’zor and Leviath to deal with, and a whole string of other injuries as well; what on earth was happening up there? Karredy wondered. She hoped the last half of Fall was going to be easier.
---
C’mor - Blue Zardilath
Are you all right, Zardilath? C’mor wondered as the Weyrleader’s wing shifted to low position. His blue was on the bigger end, so the endurance training for the wing’s blues and greens wasn’t too hard, but he still lacked the sheer muscle that the browns and bronzes had.
Fine, was the only answer. I’m tired, but not too much. We’re moving lower, anyway.
Don’t say that just because you don’t want me to worry. C’mor took some firestone out and tossed it into Zardilath’s mouth.
Everything worries you, Zardilath reminded him with a mental nudge of affection.
---
Gisellaine - Green Zedorianth
The sheets of Thread were mercifully almost taken care of, though there was still a mess of strands and clumps to deal with. As Historith told them to take the high position, the command delighted Zedorianth and worried her rider--now she’d have to deal with MORE of Zedorianth’s energy. No doubt the Weyrleader’s wing was starting to tire.
More Thread! The green bugled. Almost as soon as they’d finished changing formation, Zedorianth found a cluster of silver strands behind them, and she somersaulted and curved upside-down for the chase, eyes whirling red.
Zedo! Oh, it never ended--Gisellaine hung on for dear life and tried to focus on her dragon’s neck ridges. Zedo, right-side up!
Sorry! The green flipped over without skipping a beat, nearly cracking Gisellaine’s chin on her neck, before her gaping mouth flamed the nearest strand of Thread.
C’mor color: Red
Gisellaine: Tan