Lighting Up the Sky (Open to all!)

[Taxx]

Isali didn’t typically fear Zyrath. The green had never been shy about letting her rider know exactly how she felt about Isali, but bared fangs and snarls had long since become part of her day-to-day life. More often, she was irritated by the green’s hard-headed nature and her refusal to cooperate than she was afraid. Theirs was not the conventional pairing, but they were partners and for better or for worse, nothing could change that. Short of death, that was.

But this- this was new, and Isali couldn’t help that thrill of apprehension up her spine. Zyrath never touched her unless it was to push her aside or to deliberately trip her, and she had been all too happy to consider that maybe the green was mellowing toward her. And she’d been happy to find that for once, she was able- sometimes- to touch the green and scratch her itchy places and actually enjoy that sense of contact she saw others enjoying.

It wasn’t that it was any less scary. It was the kind of danger that made her legs shake and made her thrill at pushing her luck. The green behaved like a completely different beast, rolling herself in the dust on her back, legs in the air and body arching agilely as she did so, and she seemed to crave touch. Anyone’s would do, but it came with risk; she might allow it- or she might rear back with a rippling snarl and a flood of choice words at the human who dared lay a land on her.

More frightening was being in the middle of something and suddenly having the green’s nose pressed against her, long rubbing strokes of her muzzle and cheeks while a sort of purring hum, remarkably similar to a feline’s, wavered in the air around them. It was usually at these times that Isali was most frozen, waiting for the green to finish before daring to do more than breathe, too used to the temper and waiting for it to rear its head before daring to pat the velvet-soft nose. She was going to have to ask, one of these days, if anyone else had these problems with their dragon.

And all of that had just been the couple days leading up to it. Isali felt all too clearly the shift in her green’s mind, the slow build that abruptly tripped into a need- she’d been lounging lazily in her weyr, just her nose poking out into the sun that shone down, and then she was ready and in motion, claws scraping against stone as she launched, a winged tunnelsnake hurtling toward the wherry pens, claws and teeth flashing mercilessly as she caught one and began to rip it apart.

Isali’s head swam at the sheer flood of emotion, a storm of need and desire- her lust to be seen and chased and admired, her blood boiling beneath her skin so that sweat beaded up, but the arm that swiped across her forehead was merely instinct. Isali stared down at Zyrath, almost drowning before she managed to break the surface and then she gasped. Blood it- blood it only- Zyrath!

She was hard, at the best of times, to control. Now? No matter how she tried, Isali couldn’t break through. Hands gripped painfully at her hair, eyes squeezed shut and half doubled over; below, the green only snarled, tearing chunks from the wherry and swallowing them whole; the ineffective battering of her rider against her mind only served to deepen her growls, her eyes as deeply red as the blood that stained her muzzle, paws and fangs. She hissed, a drawn-out noise that only died as she ripped another chunk of flesh from her prey, eyes glaring dangerously at the males that were coming, alerted by her feeding and the faint gleam of her hide; one edged a bit too close and she struck, missing by a hair the slash of her bloodied claws into his muzzle.

She was full. She was ready. Rising to her paws, tail lashing constantly side to side, Zyrath ducked her head, swaying as she offered a half-croon, half-growl. Who says I want any of you? Oh, you’re worthy, I’m sure. Quick and agile, or big and strong. Her growl eased to a purr, but her fangs flashed as she pulled her lip back, no more welcoming than before. But maybe I just want to fly on my own. Did any of you think of that?

You ate too much. The voice was easily brushed away, an itch she ignored. It didn’t matter. She’d fly anyway. Why won’t you listen to me?

Impress me, she invited the males, and crouched, wings snapping out to the sides. And you can fly with me. She sprang, but her usual agility and speed was hampered, her swollen belly making her unusually clumsy, and while she got herself off the ground, it wasn’t as easy as it should have been- wings straining to carry her higher as her tail whipped back and forth behind.

[tovaana]

B’zor :: Brown Litniroth

The tall rider sighed, straightening as he finished putting his clean clothes away. The days without fighting thread seemed monotonous to B’zor – but not to his dragon who was playing with the things in his growing hoard. He looked over the pile, cringing and running a hand over his face. His hand froze on his face as he spotted something in the pile that was new. He strode over to the pile and his ruddy dragon looked down at him with whirling blue eyes. “What is that?” My pile of pretties. The dragon responded with pride. “No, this – what’s this?” He pulled a brightly colored scarf from the pile – it looked more expensive than the other scarves he had ‘found’. Doesn’t it have pretty colors? Look! It matches me! The dragon tugged it from his grasp and laid it on his tail. Could you wrap it on me? “No! We need to find who the owner of that is.” He had stopped bothering for the less expensive things, but the detail in the scarf made his mouth dry just thinking of the marks it had cost the owner.

But…it’s mine. “No, it’s not. Where did you find it?” The brown’s eyes tinged with yellow as he struggled to remember. It was a problem with having a brown that liked to collect things. I… found it here…I think…Well, finders, keepers. The dragon’s eyes changed quickly back to a happy whirling blue. B’zor groaned.

The brown’s attention switched quickly to outside. Oh! Oh! Zyrath rises! B’zor groaned again. That was the other thing that he was getting used to. Ever since he had gotten old enough to chase, he chased every green thing that moved – like he was collecting them like his hoard. Quick! Tie it on my tail, I want to show her, I bet she’ll love it. Maybe I can gift it to her!....Or maybe I’ll just show her…The dragon was at the edge, shifting excitedly from foot to foot, much like an excited canine. “No, I’m not going to tie it on you.” The brown looked at him, then back outside, then back at him – trying to decide whether to try and convince him and if there was enough time before she rose.

There she goes! He suddenly jumped from his ledge and pushed himself into the air, flapping wildly to try and get further from the ground and into the air. B’zor sighed, taking the abandoned scarf and hiding in his trunk, hoping his brown would forget about it by the time he got back. He could feel the rising desire from the connection with his brown. He exited his weyr, walking mindlessly – letting his connection guide him as he knew it would. Since this was still relatively new to him, he did feel nervous – what if this time his curious brown actually caught a green?

I have a lovely scarf that would impress you! If mine had tied it on me, you'd see. I can show you after we fly. Maybe we can fly on our own - together.

[kevna]

Brown Thundosomth - G'drin

Her plucky dare reached him-spoke to him-called for him. He couldn’t refuse such a challenge. The tan brown stood, bugling out his strong voice.

Fly dear Zyrath, fly high. Take your time, show off your large wings and strength of will, and I will show you my own. He was confident she would like what she saw. He was large, he was strong, and he loved the competition of a good flight. He couldn’t refuse such an endeavor. Thundosomth launched from the ledge of his weyr, bugling out again his own challenge.

What’s the matter Litniroth, not up to a little competition? Think you can’t impress her enough to fly with her?

The brown asked, goading the other brown on. Up and up he flew, beating his strong wings. He didn’t rush, he had time, he made some sharp diagonal wing changes to accent what little agility he had. He might not be agile, but his endurance would help him with this green.

G’drin smiled, excited for the chase just as much as his bonded was. They didn’t have to communicate, he allowed the bronze to stay focused on the chase. He also allowed the delicious desire to flood through him, directing him to the green’s bonded. He strode confidently, his footsteps light. His dragon might not be the most limber of dragons, but he could catch this green. He came upon the door of the green’s weyr, politely tapping on the door, but entering soon after. He didn’t normally wait, there wasn’t a need. There was a need to be near the rider.

[Zen]

K'ton :: Bronze Sorth

In the middle of preparing a lecture for the Worlds Apart weyrling class, K’ton was paying his dragon no mind. The bronze, for his part, was dozing in the sun. Nothing at all interesting was happening around the Weyr so there was nothing better to occupy his time with. The weyrlings were all behaving and he’d had no luck tempting any of them into doing anything they shouldn’t. Without any proper entertainment, Sorth’s best option was a nap.

But when Zyrath headed for the beast pens, tearing into a wherry with a newfound sort of rage, Sorth’s head rose, eyes whirling with intense interest. What are you doing? The bronze’s lips peeled back in a snarling grin at his rider’s warning question. K’ton had felt his dragon’s sudden shift in mood, felt the bronze’s desire rising, and knew very well he was about to chase. And he knew very well it was no gold he was about to attempt to catch either. Young Zyrath rises. I shall have her. Damn you.

With that he launched from his sunning perch, circling as Zyrath devoured her prey. He certainly needed no boost of energy to outlast a green in flight. Particularly one weighed down by fresh meat. He tsked at the green, his voice low and amused, You’re making this too easy, Zyrath. You’ll hardly be a challenge at all in this state. K’ton, his work forgotten, set out in search of the green’s rider. His bronze’s obsession with greens had always been obnoxious and was no less so now, when he was trying to get some sharding work done. But, in the end, when the bronze won his prize, the rider could hardly complain about the flight induced break from working.

Sorth watched the green rise, clumsy, far slower than she should have been, and K’ton felt his vague disappointment. He might have tried for a catch already before the green could even get her bearings in the air, but it would make for one short fall if he caught her already, and if he was going to catch her he wanted to enjoy it. His gaze tinged with red as the younger browns began to follow her. He would just have to make sure none of these hatchlings tried to snag her too early. With a snarl, Sorth pushed after the green, and to Zyrath’s other suitors he issued a warning, She is mine.

[Taxx]

It wasn’t nearly as easy as it ought to have been, getting herself off the ground. Her belly dragged her down, the weight of her meal making her fight for every inch as she flapped, but she managed it. Higher and higher she went, wings quivering with the strain, and frustration was a fire that wrapped her in its embrace, making her snarls far less playful than they might have been otherwise. She stared at the three who followed with blood-red eyes, crimson-stained fangs bared as she growled.

Two browns and a bronze. She didn’t care to let their names cross her mind- that didn’t matter as she reached a decent height and finally let her wings tuck to her sides, rudely barging past them as she tipped into a steep dive, the rush of wind easing some of her fury as she considered just what maneuvers she could use to make these males work their hardest to win her. She shot past the Rim, ten feet above the sharp edge of the rock as she hurtled toward the ocean; she flared her wings to slow herself, a high-pitched shriek of challenge drifting back as she tipped to one side to follow the cliff, pushing herself as hard as possible to keep ahead of the three.

Isali had whirled away from the ledge-less weyr as Zyrath had gone airborne; she stared at the riders are they approached, hot with Zyrath’s own need, her anger and lust and even the uncomfortable fullness of her belly; she flashed a bright grin at the riders of her green’s suitors, propping her hands on her hips and tipping her head to one side, a light hum breaking free as she looked them over. “What,” she purred, taking a step forward, “too shy? I’m disappointed. Maybe I was foolish to expect more from you all.” And she smiled again, taunting and expectant.

[tovaana]

B’zor :: Brown Litniroth

I can, too. Litniroth growled at the fellow brown. I bet you don’t have anything like my scarf that would impress her. He growled at the brown privately.

Then the bronze came in. Why did the others have to be so aggressive? Obviously Litniroth's luring was far more enticing. You don’t know that she’s yours yet. Litniroth countered the moody bronze. The brown felt a sudden possessiveness of his own rise up. The brown sniffed and pushed easily ahead of the slower bronze, using an air current to carry himself above the green as he chased. He did not go in for her yet – he wanted to convince her that he was better than the other brown and bronze in the sky.

I have other things too. Pretties and shining things – just like you! The brown was fighting within himself whether or not he could actually offer a gift to her, but just as strong as his will was to not want anyone else to win this flight, was his selfishness with his hoard. He was trying to remember the things in his hoard, but the scarf was the one thing at the top of his memory that was easy to access in the excitement of the moment. The scarf is so pretty, I bet it would look good on you too! Well, he could let her try it on, that wouldn’t hurt anything, would it?

Meanwhile as the flight continued on, B’zor found his way to the greenrider’s quarters just in time for her taunt. His jaw set, stepping forward with uncharacteristic boldness – the alien strength of flight feelings drowned his nerves and pushed him to the front of the crowd. He didn’t say anything though, silent and ready- his mind soaring with his lithe brown in the sky.

kevna Zen Taxx

[kevna]

G'drin - Brown Thundosomth

I don’t need anything to impress her but me. A silly trinket is all you have. The dragon stated confidently. He turned his full attention to the slower green, feeling the need to catch her right then and there, but enjoying the race as well. He was only slightly bothered by the bronze joining them. We shall see Sorth, for she is mine. You can’t think to beat me. The dragon conveyed stiffly. He wanted her. He could get her. He would get her. He was faster than the bronze.

You don’t need anything shiny or pretty, you are perfect just the way you are. The brown thrummed, back winging as she dove down past him, and following close on her tail. Oh, how he wanted her. Well, how he also wanted to beat the others to her. He zig-zagged close to her, trying his best to come wingtip to wingtip.

G’drin enjoyed the taunt more then anything. Smiling broadly, he turned on a heel, completing a full turn behind B’zor and coming up side by side next to the bronze rider. He looked the woman up and down, enjoying the thrill and desire that thrummed through him. “I like to take my meals slowly, thoroughly enjoy them, if you know what I mean.” He winked playfully, and on impulse took another step toward her and then moved to circle her, tracing her curves hungrily.

[Zen]

K'ton :: Bronze Sorth

Insolent hatchlings, Sorth snarled at their back talk. But he let them lead, let them think they were so quick and clever and he, so slow and cumbersome that he would not have a chance against them. The old bronze had decades of experience on them and they thought they could best him in his favorite pastime? A good green was so hard to come by, he was hardly going to let Zyrath slip through his claws, though he privately hoped that the next time she rose she would make the same mistake and weigh herself down with too much meat. He was a bronze, he preferred longer flights, though not the dragged out affairs of golds. He preferred the chance to admire a green in all her glory before he claimed her. But Zyrath was young, perhaps she would learn. Then again she was also headstrong, a trait that made her desirable to the cantankerous old bronze, so perhaps she would not.

When she dropped into a dive, it was the browns that were nearest her, while he had hung back, and now it was he who had the advantage, dropping with her, having more time to react being farther back, and it was he who took the lead, keeping pace with the green. He snarled again as Thundosomth caught up, flaring his wings in an attempt to block Zyrath from him and lashing out at the younger brown with a snap of his jaws, I told you she is mine.

In Isali’s weyr, K’ton’s lip curled at the taunt from the girl, at the audacity of these young brownriders that thought they could take what rightfully belonged to him. He forced the thought away, for it was Sorth’s, not his. Isali was hardly the type of woman he wanted. Too bold, particularly for a greenrider. Still, he shot a disgusted look at G’drin. The boy had always had a crass mouth on him that he found particularly unamusing. But unlike the hapless boy, he wasn’t about to rise to the taunt of a weyrling greenrider. He didn’t even particularly want to be here, but if Sorth managed to catch the blasted green, he would claim his prize happily enough.

[Taxx]

Such flowery words from the browns, both of them crooning sweet praises and urging her to think of them when she was ready to choose; the biggest of her Chasers, the bronze, was just the opposite. He had taunted, stoutly maintaining that she was his. All of them had kept up with her with ease, seeming to have no trouble matching her path, their larger bodies gave them greater stamina, and she was struggling to make this flight last even half the length of ones she'd witnessed in the past day.

In the end she had no choice but to let it end. Her wings weren't going to carry her much longer, and so she aimed herself upward again, pushing herself as far as she could go, the burning ache increasing with each strained flap until she couldn't push herself any further. Then she considered her suitors, running through each of them, debating her choice before making up her mind.

Sorth, she hummed, fixing her brilliantly red eyes on the bronze, and forced one final burst of movement from her tired wings, thudding into the big male's body and clutching him with sharp talons. Carry me. It was nothing short of a demand, and she made no effort to help him, her wings going limp as soon as she had her claws in his hide.

In the weyr, G'drin and B'zor ceased to exist for Isali. While G'drin had earned himself a smirk at his tease, the innuendo not lost on the young woman, she was driven to the bronzerider by Zyrath's decision to claim his dragon. She might not be entirely pleased by her dragon's choice- K'ton had rarely been anything even close to friendly toward her throughout her weyrling training, but it didn't seem to matter to the green, who was practically purring now, eyes half-lidded as she gave herself over to the bronze in a most uncharacteristic way.

Well, it was just one night. Isali left it to the brownriders to find their way out as she crossed the distance between her and the bronzerider.

[tovaana]

B’zor :: Brown Litniroth

Litniroth watched the green veer toward the bronze and he hummed in disappointment as they dropped. He glanced at the other brown and then veered in a different direction – toward the cliffs where other greens would be basking in the sun. Perhaps one of them would appreciate trying on the scarf. He thought about going back to his weyr to get it, but heard B’zor’s irritated tone as he caught what his brown wanted to do. ‘It is not your scarf, Lit, I have to return it.’

The man still felt his heart pounding from the adrenalin of the flight. He tried to hide his gladness that the dragon hadn’t caught the green- which wasn’t hard since his body was still stressed from the flight. His brisk walk took him quickly to his weyr, snatched the scarf, and went off… he wasn’t sure how he was going to find the owner, but he had to at least try.

Litniroth pouted. Fine, I have other pretties I can share. He muttered, circling down to a cluster of greens speckling the cliff side.

[kevna]

G'drin - Brown Thundosomth 

Thundosomth was tempted to swoop in to catch the green as she practically fell towards the bronze, but instead he felt disgust. He didn’t want a green who didn’t choose him and didn’t actually allow a dragon to catch her during her flight. In fact, it was disappointing to say the least, because the fun was taken out of it. The competition squashed. He didn’t even watch to see the bronze catch the green, angry because he could have caught her. He could have won.

He grudgingly admitted to himself that he hadn’t really wanted the green all that much, he had just wanted to win. He would need another green rise to get over this one. The next one he would win, he was sure.

G’drin was disappointed as well, because he had hoped for a fling. It was hard to find a woman to sate the needs, and now he needed one. He left in search, hoping to find some willing companion. His dragon may have given up, but G’drin hadn’t just yet.