In It For The Long Fall [Threadfall]

[Zen]

Turn 2762, Mid 3rd Month

A few days after Touch The Wind

A’zael :: Bronze Fath

A’zael was still getting used to not being the ultimate last word when it came to Threadfall. Since the leadership change happened right before winter set in and they flew so few Falls during the colder season, it was taking perhaps a little longer to get used to. But spring had arrived, though A’zael could have guessed otherwise over some parts of the Western Continent where old snow still covered most of the ground, particularly nearer to Jask. The Fall today, however, would be mostly over Charin’s territory, which was less mountainous, and the southern portions were even hinting at green. It was the first Fall of spring over the continent, and it would be a bigger test for their newest riders, now a few months out of graduation with only shorter fights over the isles under their belts.

The routine hadn’t changed that much, even though he was no longer Weyrleader. He still went out with B’rax and the other two Wingleaders to assess the conditions before the fight and the four of them collaborated on the strategy for the day, even though one of them would be sitting out in reserve and tasked with the after-Fall sweep. It was still such a good feeling to have a fourth Wing, and the difference in stress was noticeable, now that one Wing got to rest each Fall instead of participating every single time. It wouldn’t be much longer until they had two full Flights, and the load for each Wing would only get easier to bear from there. It finally felt like they were making it, that they were succeeding instead of just surviving.

B’rax had given his Wing high position to start, and there he sat with the Wing arranged in front of him in an alternating backward vee formation. The day was clear, but the winds would be a particularly difficult enemy this time, as they couldn’t seem to decide which way they wanted to blow and tore at the dragons like wild waves on a storm enraged sea in attempt to toss them this way and that. The only mercy was that the winds were at least not overly strong, but it would likely wear the smaller dragons down quicker.

Beneath him Fath’s growl rumbled in his chest as the normally happy bronze’s eyes whirled red with hatred for the approaching leading edge of Fall. A’zael absently patted the bronze’s neck and kept a mental hold of him to ensure he would wait in formation for Thread to reach them. At the back of the formation, it made it especially difficult to wait, as flame spouted from the maws of their wingmates farther up the line, but it didn’t take much longer for Thread to reach them as well. Fath’s jaws parted for a burst of broad flame that sent a clump of Thread ash raining past.

M’kal :: Bronze Draveth

In the middle position with Tempest Wing, Draveth was eager to begin the fight. We should be in the high position, the bronze insisted. We’ll be there eventually. Remember how we’ve been practicing Wing rotations so much lately? Surely even your wherryshit memory isn’t that bad. Draveth growled at the insult, Of course I remember. M’kal wasn’t convinced that he did. This Fall will be longer than the others we’ve been in. We’ll be in all three positions at some point. Over the last month, there’d been more flight drills, where the wings would coordinate drills together in order to practice fighting as a full unit, so they could practice wing rotations in preparation for the warmer weather, and the longer Falls that came with them.

The bronze sniffed, Well we should have started there. It’s a waste of my talents down here. M’kal rolled his eyes, It’s easier to start in high position, did you want to take the easy way out? It’s going to be a lot harder to rotate up there, get your bearings, and start fighting right away. In fact it’d be the hardest to be in the high position last, because you’d already be somewhat tired from fighting the rest of the Fall and THEN going to the hardest position. So stop complaining. The bronze rumbled grumpily and after a moment amended his complaint, Then we should be in the high position last.

M’kal, for his part, was happy enough NOT to be the last wing to take high position. He didn’t feel the need to show off during Threadfall like his dragon. He just wanted them to get through it relatively unscathed. Any man that tried to claim they weren’t at least a little afraid of Threadfall was either insane or a sharding liar. But that’s what made dragonriders the bravest on Pern, because they faced that fear and fought it head on. Still, that didn’t mean he wanted to take unnecessary risks to prove his bravado. Not in Threadfall. Unlike Draveth apparently. The bronze would never turn down an opportunity to show off. Just focus. I’d rather not get scored because you’re too busy trying to look good. Trying? I always look good. I don’t need to try. Good, then you should be able to focus just fine. The high wing is meeting Thread now. Be ready. I’m always ready. As if to prove it, the bronze surged forward toward the first Thread fallthrough, burning it away with a flame that was needlessly large.

A’zael/Fath: Tan
M’kal/Draveth: Violet
NPC: Teal

Threadfall Specifics
Standard Fall, a clear, crisp, chilly day with a constant but unpredictable wind. Average Fall. It will be a full 4 hour Fall, meaning the greens and blues in Gale and Tempest Wings’ Reserve will be on standby until half way through the Fall (3 rounds). As the Fall is 4 hours, it also means the Wings will be rotating position (I will mark when the rotations take place in my posts).
High Wing: Gale, Alternating Backward Vee Formation.
Middle Wing: Tempest, Alternating Backward Vee Formation.
Low Wing: Breeze, Alternating Triple Trail Formation.
Queen's Wing: Zephyr, Alternating Trail Formation.
Please reference the Mavros Wings, Threadfall 101, and Roleplaying Threadfall threads as needed. Remember that there are 6 rounds and you have 48 hours to post for each round before we move on without you. And don't forget to post a color for each of your Active characters from the following list:
Red
Orange
Gold
Yellow
Lime
Green
Teal
Cyan
Blue
Indigo
Violet
Purple
Pink
Tan
Bronze
Brown
White
Silver
Gray
Black

tovaana kevna Alyx Taxx

[tovaana]

Lo’qui :: Bronze Jarath

It had been quite the difference – coming from Ierne to Mavros. He enjoyed A’zael’s leadership style and his easygoing personality. He wasn’t as sure about the leader’s bronze however… though during Threadfall the dog-like nature of Fath didn’t seem to be a problem… the relaying of orders was always interesting, at least Jarath seemed to think so, and Lo’qui believed him. He found that his time at Ierne had made him bitter and judgmental of brownriders, though he had no reason to think negatively of Mavrosi brownriders. He had to remind himself of this whenever he received an order from G’brel. G’brel had nothing to do with how Ierne was run. It had helped that the brownrider (including many others from his Wing) had saved his dragon’s hide many a time already, especially as his dragon’s size made him vulnerable to smaller clusters.

Indeed, Lo’qui was very comfortable in his new home, despite the living conditions. He scaled his dragon with a simple rope that dangled to help him up quickly (As his rope ladder was bulky and used for guests only). He tethered himself in and adjusted his goggles and other gear and let out a sigh with closed lips. Another Fall. Another day of risk. It didn’t normally bother him, but with eggs on the sands and watching his daughter touch the eggs… it was a reminder that she could possibly impress soon – and was possibly just turns from entering the risk of Threadfall herself. He supposed he should be flattered that his daughter wanted to be a rider like him, but a part of him wished she had chosen to leave with Cionessan when he had gone to the Harper Halls. The other part of him was proud of the woman she had become so far. The conflicting feelings were frustrating and confusing. He wasn’t usually so dismal when it came to life, but children seemed to change the order of life frequently. There’s nothing you can do about these thoughts right now. Jarath noted, amusement laced in the thoughts. Are you ready, mine, for battle? Lo’qui’s body vibrated from the rumble under him, his dragon glancing back with one red whirling eye toward his rider.

Lo’qui grinned, feeling his dragon wash him of his worries, ‘bring it on.’ He welcomed the better attitude and the dragon turned to Fath and waited as they lifted into the air and then together blinked to their High position within the Gale wing. Jarath started rumbling more frequently the closer the line of Thread got to them and his lip also lifted in a snarl- it took a bit of mental restraint to keep his bronze from thrusting forward enthusiastically toward the Thread.

‘Patience.’ I am patient. Lo’qui didn’t argue, trying to keep his contrary belief to himself, finally letting the constraint go when the Thread reached them. There was a certain satisfaction in watching Thread turn to ash – that was, until the ash reached him. He was used to the smell, but it still burned his nose as always in the beginning. Lo’qui kept a wary eye as Jarath’s flame aimed to take out clumps. ‘Remember to preserve your flame, Jar. We want it to last as long as possible.’ The dragon was enjoying the burning battle too much to acknowledge his rider, but accepted the advice as he tilted his wings to meet a clump with vigor.

Muze :: Green Rylath

Muze admired her green’s speckles as they lifted into the sunshine. She liked to believe they could sparkle… perhaps she’d look into getting that sparkle stuff that Sio had pranked Codrath’s oil with… would that be too much? Muze wasn’t used to things that made her look nice, as she was dumb when it came to fashion… but she was willing to spend an extra mark to spoil her green. ‘Is that something you’d be interested in?’ She assumed her green was paying attention to her thoughts, as she seemed to always be there, looming with intense interest no matter what the subject was. Oh yes muzemine, if that’s what would make you happy. Muze sighed… ‘Would it make you happy?’ They were waiting for the go-ahead to launch into the skies and the green seemed unsure of how she should answer, as always she mostly wanted to make her rider happy. ‘We can think about it later…’ She mused, as the signal finally came and she urged her large green into the air.

Her heart started to speed up as they blinked up into her position. There was a thrill when it came to flying that never seemed to get old, and a sharper thrill at seeing the edge of Threadfall. As a holder, she felt instinctively like she should be hiding from it – and yet there she was, sitting on her green, facing the enemy down. I am ready, muzemine! We are ready! The green’s eyes were whirling amber colors, contrasting against her green vibrantly, but the green’s voice meant to send extra courage into her rider. Muze grinned, feeling a bit giddy- every Threadfall felt like her first time. She directed her green to the first clump that met them, triumph in the ash that sprinkled back toward her, speckling her goggles.

Muze :: WHITE
Lo'qui :: YELLOW

[kevna]

Ny’x – Blue Nimocith

It was her turn to partake in the preparation for fall. Master Nadeera was organizing the stations, prepping for new victims. Victims. Sharding thread. Ny’x blinked at the vehemence behind the thought, then realized how open her link to Nimocith was. It was always disconcerting just how much hatred her sweet blue could feel during threadfall. Thread was worthy of the hate, but Nimocith was normally so docile… It felt good to be able to sear the thread out of the sky, her own sort of revenge for what thread did, the change it contributed to her bonded.

She waved her exit to Master Nadeera, jogging towards her dragon, hitting her limp gloves clutched in one hand against her thigh. Are you ready? Yes. That was her wordy blue. She had already prepped him before heading to the infirmary to help with prep, so all she had to do was launch herself up the blue’s side and strap herself into the saddle. Let’s fly. Their was a nervous edge, an anticipation, that they shared as they launched into the sky, and moved to join their wing.

The brunette spooned firestone into Nimocith’s mouth, and he chewed it as he received instructions. We shall be in the middle wing, alternating backward vee formation. Ny’x nodded, taking a deep breath. She couldn’t help the sliver of fear that thrummed through her each time they prepared to jump into formation, and meet threadfall. I feel it too. His soft voice was so contrary to the swirling red eyes that belayed his hatred towards their enemy. Fear is our enemy, we feel it, but never let it control us. Ny’x smiled, a wobbly smile, but nodded just the same. As she waited for their move, she couldn't help but look for Zi'lor. He had saved them once before, and whenever she saw him, she felt that same safety. She wondered if she'd feel more so in his arms, the warmth of his touch, the-It is time. There was a longsuffering tone, and Ny'x felt her cheeks warm in embarrassment.

You are really good at interrupting me before things get interesting, you know that right? It's not planned. He sounded so innocent, she almost believed him. They prepared for a jump between, and the bluerider allowed herself to brace against the cold as they winked into the void. She counted in her head, tested her bond with her blue, and then suddenly they were in action.

Flame seared and ash fell, and Ny’x settled into an alert watch over her dragon, ready to be his eyes as needed.

Ny'x/Nimocith - Blue

[Alyx]

G’rett and Bronze Mastromideth

G’rett stretched his arms out in front of him, fingers interlocked for a moment, then pushed his palms together to the clouds over his head until he felt the familiar ‘pop’ of tension give in his shoulders. He shouldn’t be tense - how many times had they done this routine? Parting his fingers, he dropped his arms back down and surveyed the Wing of dragons around them as they settled into formation. His eyes couldn’t help but hunt for the shaded Blue form of Aslith, even though he knew that Rachel wasn’t in the sky with them.

She is fine. ‘Yea I know. Just strange not having her here to cover us.’ Mastromideth rumbled under him, confirming the Bronzer’s tone. As weird as it was, G’rett couldn’t think of a time that the Bluerider hadn’t been in a Threadfall with them. From the moment they’d graduated, she’d been there - the perpetual mother-wherry, scolding him to be careful. It seemed very empty in the skies without the pair there, even surrounded by a nearly full Wing of other dragons.

Here it comes. The Bronze’s gentle push brought G’rett back to bear on the moment. ‘Right.’ Reaching up, he pulled the scarf up over his mouth and nose with a gloved hand, making sure to tuck the top under the edge of his goggles to hold it solid. Mastro’s massive head swung around, jaws open and waiting - G’rett tossed the sack of Firestone to the beast, then grabbed the straps. ‘Ready?’ Indeed. The warm anger bubbled up in the Bronze, trickling over the link between dragon and rider surged forward with the others. Flames burst forth from Mastro’s maw, charring the silver strands as they tumbled by.

Joia and White Tellamuth

Joia leaned back, her worried blue eyes scanning the clouds and shapes over them. Zephyr Wing was too low to see what was going on with the higher Wings, both a good and bad thing if you looked at it clearly. Still, it bothered her; her friends were up there, fighting the real fighting, and she was down here, with the Queens, feeling useless.

And Vitra. Tellamuth’s voice brought a smile to Joia’s lips under the lilac scarf she wore, the whiterider’s eyes instantly dropping from the clouds over them to the other girl and her Blue in the Queen’s formation with them. ‘True I suppose. At least I’m not the only one probably knotted up inside.’ And L'rey is here too. ‘Well, that’s not exactly a plus.’ Tellamuth chuckled, banking slightly to the right to stay in the draft of Gold Danovelith, conserving energy while they could.

‘You sure you don’t want to sit this out?’ I could ask the same of you. Yea, okay, he had her there. Given Tellamuth’s ‘talents’ and smaller size, the pair often had the option to bow out of Threadfalls; as it was, they were barely active in them in the Queen-dominated lower wing. But Joia wanted to pull her weight - before she was Impressed, she knew fighting Thread was going to be a big part of being a Dragonrider. If she’d gotten a Green or a Blue, she’d still have been fighting.

But you have me. ‘And I wouldn’t change it for anything. Sometimes I just feel…’ Like we should be doing more? Joia smiled. ‘Yea. Exactly.’ And this has nothing to do with you wanting to stay busy and not think about certain young men who ride Bronzes? Joia slapped Tellamuth’s neck playfully, her cheeks warming under the light purple scarf. ‘Shush.’ Tellamuth sent a rush of love over their bond, then rumbled.

It starts. Joia’s head dropped back, her eyes darting over the clouds again, trying to see what was happening even though she knew logically she couldn’t. ‘Alright. Try not to get scored?’ I will do very my best. Joia tore her eyes from the sky, her hand catching up a few pieces of the Firestone in the pack at her knee. She tossed them to the White, feeling him crush in his teeth gently as she refocused on the skies over them, looking for signs of Thread the might squeeze past the higher dragons.


G’rett/Mastromideth - Brown
Joia/Tellamuth - Gold

[Taxx]

Vitra :: Blue Tucseth

I'm ready! Vitra! Hurry!

How was it possible that even now, Tucseth was brimming with excitement? There was an undertone of wariness and a prickle of hatred for Thread mixed in, but overpowering both was the thrill of the fight incoming and the determination to prove himself worthy of being a fighting dragon. He danced from foot to foot, pausing only when asked by his exasperated rider as she tightened the straps and checked their soundness. He wiggled even then, wings flicking restlessly as he waited; when she finally mounted, he gave an actual skip forward before springing to join the rest of Zephyr Wing.

Close by, Joia and Tellamuth. Vitra returned the whiterider's smile with a broad grin and a wave before settling in. A chunk of firestone tossed to Tucseth to prepare him, and then over his head the first sight of Thread raining down. Tucseth growled, deep in his chest, eyes whirling brilliant red as he watched the upper wings began their maneuvers, ducking and diving as they chased the silvery strands, flame erupting from dozens of dragons in an awe-inspiring sight...

She was a bit too caught up in that, at first, and it was Tucseth who caught sight of the first missed Thread. He had the courtesy, this time, to warn Vitra instead of just taking off, and she was quick to duck as he surged forward, swinging out to catch the strand and scorch it to ash. I got it! He was barely stopping himself from broadcasting to every dragon present, exhilaration flooding him as he swerved back and kept watch for the next.

Red for Tucseth

[Zen]

Possible Threadscore Roll Results

Critical – Your character and/or their dragon have received critical Threadscoring. They are unable to continue fighting and require medical attention immediately.

• Your character makes their exit from the Fall thread. If your dragon is the one with the wound, they may require assistance from another dragon to reach the ground safely.
• Your character will spend time in the infirmary.
• You have free reign to decide where the wound is located, but it MUST be extensive. Be aware that major wing injuries will have your dragon grounded for several months.
• Your character will acquire scarring from this wound.
• Your character will not be able to participate in the next Fall thread as they will still be healing, and may be grounded for longer depending on the type of injury you gave them.
• Your character WILL NOT die or be crippled and forced into retirement unless YOU choose to do so.

Serious – Your character and/or their dragon have received some serious Threadscoring. Medical attention is required, but they may be able to rejoin the fight after the wound is seen to.

• Your character will miss out on the next Fall round while they are being treated.
• You have free reign to decide where the wound is located, but it should be sufficiently large or deep enough to require treatment.
• Your character will acquire scarring from this wound.
• You may decide to make this scoring serious enough to take your character out of the fight, in which case your character can make their exit from the Fall thread and should spend some time in the infirmary.
• Your character will still be able to participate in the next Fall thread, even if you take them out of the fight.

Minor – Your character and/or their dragon have received some minor Threadscoring. After a quick jump or two Between, they are all right to continue fighting.

• You have free reign to decide where the wound is located, but it should not be terribly large or deep.
• Your character can continue fighting as normal and the wound may not even result in scarring, though treatment after Fall is over would be wise.

None – Through a combination of your character's quick wits and their dragon's fighting skills, they have both managed to escape any Threadscoring. For now.

Round 1 Results
A’zael/Fath: Serious
M’kal/Draveth: Serious
Lo’qui/Jarath: None
Muze/Rylath: Minor
N’yx/Nimocith: Serious (don’t choose a color as she’s out for the next round)
G’rett/Mastromideth: Minor
Joia/Tellamuth: None
Vitra/Tucseth: None
NPC: None

Round 2 has begun. Remember to choose a new color!

---

A’zael :: Bronze Fath

It started fine, but the wild winds quickly made the fight even more chaotic than normal. A’zael had taken a lowered position in the alternating pattern of the Wing, wanting to be able to keep a better watch below, as it was easy to forget to keep an eye below when you were used to the threat coming from above you, and he was going to do his best to cover for anyone who might forget. These were uncommon wind conditions and there wasn’t any good way for the Wings to practice fighting in it but to go out and do it, and that made him wary. Anything they couldn’t drill on properly meant everyone would be less prepared to deal with the real thing, and that meant increased casualties.

It was difficult keeping Fath below the main fighting line. The bronze wanted to surge upward to flame Thread properly, but A’zael held them fairly steady at the back of the lower line. They had plenty to flame coming from other angles at least, since their position at the back point of the vee meant they had to keep an eye out for two pairs instead of just the one pair in front of the other lower fliers. Fath had just finished burning away a strand to the right when another was tossed up to the left, Left, Fath! The bronze swung his head around with a burst of flame, and then more slipped between the two pairs ahead of them, Up!

A’zael would be surprised if he wasn’t dizzy by the end of this Fall. The high position really was a terrible place to be. He grimaced at the thought that they’d gotten the easy round high. T’lyron wasn’t as experienced leading a Wing, he’d have preferred to give Tempest first go so they didn’t need to take on the worst position already beginning to tire, but B’rax was rightfully insistent that they needed to get to used to taking all positions at any point during a Fall. A’zael still would have preferred to wait another Fall or two at least. Tempest hadn’t gotten much chance to fight in long Falls yet. He shook his head to refocus. It wasn’t his decision anymore.

Taking stock of the Wing, he chanced to see green Namith diving to chase a clump that had gotten past bronze Jarath, somehow. The massive bronze had an equally impressive flame that A’zael found hard to imagine anything escaping it. Even as he watched a thick sheet dissolved into ash under the bronze’s flame, but a clump managed to tear free in the wind, and A’zael sent Fath between to meet it while Namith and Jarath were otherwise occupied. Popping back into the fight somewhat below the larger bronze, Fath swung to loose his own flame before the clump could be tossed up at Jarath’s belly, but again the wind aided their enemy as another smaller clump danced away from the burning remains of its brethren and hit Fath under his chest. A’zael felt the impact, and then the burning, and clenched his teeth against the phantom pain that was all Fath’s as he forced them between again, back to their own position. And again, as the burning persisted. Fath wailed in pain when they emerged and A’zael knew they wouldn’t be able to just shake this one off. Tell Greth and Mastromideth, Fath. Tell them you’re hurt, he urged, unsure if the bronze would be able to get anything coherent out to his seconds or not. Hurt! The bronze moaned to the others, and A’zael counted that as good enough. It would have to be. At least he’d managed to give them some form of warning.

Home, Fath. You need a healer. The bronze didn’t argue as he took the image and they returned to the Weyr. The landing was rough and Fath favored one foreleg slightly, making A’zael all the more concerned about just how bad the injury was. He leaped down immediately as healers hurried to meet them. “It’s not me!” he waved them away, knowing quite well they weren’t dragonhealers, doing his best to control the panic threatening him, that threatened most riders when their dragons were injured, to stay calm for Fath, to keep him calm so healers could help him. A green landed nearby and A’zael recognized the dark hide of Tanith. He’d never imagined he’d be so relieved to see Talaria.

The greenrider wasted little time as she approached, “Where?”

Fath was still on his feet, emitting a soft, continuous moan, favoring his right foreleg and shifting uncomfortably, though it didn’t look injured that A’zael could see, “Chest… belly… sort of. Underneath. These sharding winds….” He gestured to his own chest area as if to demonstrate just where the pain was on his dragon.

Talaria commandeered two healers to assist her and A’zael finally got the bronze to lay down, shifting to his side to give Talaria access to his underside where a long Threadscore was quite visible, not far from where his leg joined the rest of his body. Fortunately the leg did seem unharmed. A’zael stood at his dragon’s head, rubbing gloved hands over his muzzle, both to comfort Fath and so he didn’t have to look at the wound, “Just stay still… they’ll fix you up.” He couldn’t help but wish Srunae and Danovelith had come to treat him, but with Sularenth on the sands, the queen’s Wing needed both Danovelith and Aerroth in case an aerial rescue for a larger dragon was needed. Not that he didn’t trust Talaria, but Danovelith’s presence would have done wonders to distract Fath from his pain, even without the gold using her influence on him. And Srunae’s presence would have done wonders to calm his own mind.

M’kal :: Bronze Draveth

You’re wasting your breath, literally! M’kal growled at the bronze as he let loose another jet of flame, far too large, We shouldn’t be going through this much firestone this quickly! Get more then, Draveth replied petulantly, What do you know of flaming? Go ahead, burn Thread yourself if you know so much more than I do. He turned his head, jaws parted for more stone, and M’kal cursed lowly as he tossed more into his dragon’s mouth. Firestone conservation is important, Draveth. I’d say flaming Thread is a deal more important. M’kal gritted his teeth, You’re right, it is, and the less time we have to waste refueling and restocking our firestone, the more Thread you can flame! Seriously, only Draveth would insist on arguing with his rider in the middle of a Fall. Or perhaps other bronzeriders had similar issues and simply didn’t speak of it. Draveth didn’t appreciate being told what to do and always thought he was right, but didn’t most bronzes?

Stubbornly, his dragon ignored his logic, continuing to release flames as large and impressive as he could muster each time he went after even the smallest strand of Thread. He insisted also on chasing down Thread that was better left to others if he noticed some other bronze or brown had recently seared anything, for he wasn’t to be outdone. Suddenly Draveth snorted derisively, his lip curling, A green has no business giving me orders. M’kal blinked in surprise, and it took him a moment to realize the bronze wasn’t talking to him. What was that? he demanded. Draveth huffed in annoyance, Rusath tried to order me to stay in my position. I don’t take orders from greens. M’kal grimaced, You don’t take orders from anyone, and normally I’m with you, but not during Threadfall! You’re going to get one or both of us hurt acting like this. Coward. And if you keep it up you’ll get us grounded for insubordination! Is that what you want? To sit around at the Weyr helping the wounded while everyone else fights? Draveth growled at the very notion, I will fight. No one will stop me. Sularenth herself will give you the order if you keep up this wherryshit! You’re not going to impress anyone if you get us killed!

And with both of them distracted arguing, it happened just as M’kal worried it would. Two odd gusts blew Draveth sideways and brought a clump of thread toward them at the same time, striking the bronze along the side of his neck. Pain, fear, panic, gripped M’kal for what seemed an eternity as Draveth roared and he just barely managed to maintain enough of a mental grip on the bronze to bring up an image for their return before they blinked between. He gasped as they reemerged, and his neck burned like fire danced beneath his skin. His hand came up immediately to cup his neck, expecting to find some horrendous wound, but nothing was there. It was all Draveth’s agony. Shaken, he fixed the return image in his head and sent them back to the Weyr, and for once Draveth didn’t argue.

The landing jostled and sent another burst up pain through his neck, so bad he cried out. It was their first real Threadscore. Draveth had gotten a few minor scores in the shorter Falls over the isles, but nothing like this. They’d been no more than annoyances compared to this. It was the first time he’d ever felt his dragon in this much pain. He tugged at his straps and slid from the bronze’s back, stumbling as he landed, his hand covering his neck again instinctually. A healer tried to approach and Draveth roared, sending them hurrying backward. No… no, they need to help, Draveth. M’kal tried to claw his way out of the fog of pain and panic in his mind, reaching out to place his hand on his dragon’s leg. Draveth growled, lowering his head slightly, teeth bared at another healer that had appeared but didn’t dare get any closer to the angry beast.

A bright green landed nearby and a short woman approached, pausing as Draveth began to snarl at her, but after a moment he quieted and she continued forward, Fine. But tell your rider to be quick about it! It took M’kal longer this time to realize the bronze wasn’t talking to him.

The woman approached him, with Draveth keeping one large eye trained on her, “I’m Zenelle, I’m here to help your dragon. He’ll be alright.” She reassured him, stepping closer, “Were you hurt, or was it just him?” She also waved her hand for the healers to come closer, and they moved warily to assist her.

“I…,” his voice cracked unexpectedly and he cleared his throat, embarrassed at the fear that remained in him, straightening out a little, “No. I don’t think so?” He rubbed gently at his neck before bringing his hand away, “I’ve never… we’ve never been scored like this.”

Zenelle offered him a soft smile, “It can be difficult to separate yourself from your dragon when they’re in this much pain, but it gets easier. Try to remain calm. It will help him, and help us treat him. I would suggest you comfort him from his head. Most riders don’t like watching their dragon’s wounds get treated.”

M’kal nodded, feeling a bit numb, and moved to Draveth’s head, which he lowered to meet him, Verdath said that her rider would help with the pain. Do we trust a greenrider to have such an ability? M’kal looked up at him, surprised, as his dragon was never uncertain about anything. Yes, he told him firmly, She’s a dragonhealer… I’ve heard she’s the best Mavros has. She’s been teaching all the dragonhealers, even. See? Nothing but the best for you. That seemed to mollify the bronze and he settled into a more comfortable position, wincing and growling but staying surprisingly still as Zenelle and her assistants began washing the wound.

NPC: Brown

[kevna]

Ny’x – Blue Nimocith

It was too early to discern whether their endurance training really had paid off, but Ny’x was impressed with the flame Nimocith produced as he flew. Just enough flame to engulf the enemy, but not overmuch. Her pride didn’t distract the blue, and she looked to the side as another rider swooped in to flame thread to their right. Her heartrate picked up when she thought it was Zi’lor coming to her rescue again, but she couldn’t help the disappointment when she recognized Z’dir and brown Lameth.

She cast her eyes about and noted the net of thread at the same time Nimocith did. I need more firestone. There was slight panic in his tone, and Ny’x felt it affect her immediately. She tossed the firestone, but there just wasn’t going to be enough time. Part of her hoped for another save, and she cast her eyes around-Nimo did his best, chewing quickly, but the flame he produced was too weak, and a rope of thread escaped the wrath of flame, hitting Nimocith’s neck.

Nimocith’s call of pain was more of a wail then a roar, and it hit her in the stomach. Between, quick! And their the cold of between numbed in part the pain, and she could almost imagine the thread crumbling away. They reappeared in their spot, and the numbness fell away, the pain reigniting. You need a healer! Nimocith agreed without words, his pain keeping him from words. She sent the imagery back home, and they jumped between, coming out of it above where the rush of injured dragons was moving to land. They joined the descent, landing quickly, and Ny’x waved frantically at the healers as she slid down the cloudy blue’s shoulder.

It hurts, it hurts. A low moan escaped, and Ny’x felt a small moan of dismay emit from her own throat as well. I know, just wait, we’ll get you patched up.

“That threadscoring looks beyond painful.” Ny’x turned to see-she blinked, unable to completely hide her reaction. Riasu. Always Riasu. Of all the healers. Riasu was just always around, wasn’t she?

“Yes, it is. Could you-“ But the woman was already at work. She could be annoyed, but for all her jealousy towards the taller woman, she was indeed grateful for her efficiency this time around.

[Taxx]

Vitra :: Blue Tucseth

For all of his exuberance, at least her silly blue was keeping himself in check this time, not like the first few times he'd flown in the fake Threadfalls. She'd got better about handling him- which usually involved reminding him that some other dragon would make him behave if necessary- and he snorted and claimed that he wasn't hurting anyone and why couldn't he have fun while still fighting? Their practice Falls had been worry-free, but they'd always been practice for the real thing, and Vitra knew that. Acting like a fool during the real thing would have much worse consequences, for all that they were in the Queens' Wing.

I can have fun and still fight, Tucseth grumbled, one eye tilting upward at the Wings above, keeping a watch for any strands missed. I know it and you know it. So why not?

You don't know what it's like to be scored. Let's at least try to keep it that way?

A huge sigh, physical and mental, ending on a groan of disappointment. I can be careful and still have fun too. A pause before he added, a hint of mischief in his voice, Just a little? Let me, let me!

No. Vitra had to hold him harder, Tucseth's wings twitching as he started to swing outward from the formation to pull some kind of stunt she knew would get them in trouble, for all that his glee made her grin, too bright to be ignored. Later, okay? This is serious. Focus. Pointing him toward a tangle dropping through, and he surged toward it, a bit too fast, but he scorched it easily and then pulled up to rejoin the Wing, still wiggling with suppressed energy.

Black for Tucseth

[tovaana]

Lo’qui :: Bronze Jarath

It was easy to focus on present worries when his own life, the life of his dragon, his Wing, and of any who might be below might be in jeopardy. He’d been in plenty of Falls, and here there was no prejudice that left him unprotected – the tension in his shoulders was less, feeling grateful for the smaller greens that could flame up the smaller clumps that were harder for Jarath to maneuver to in time, or maneuver out of the way of in time.

Thank you Namith. The bronze slipped in his gratitude, and Lo’qui could have sworn there was actual flirtation in the tone, but was too ‘in the present’ to roll his eyes about it, besides – as much as his bronze liked the ladies, he was more about the competition. At the present, Thread was the competition, and his whirling red gaze and strong flame was proof enough of that. For a bronze, he was fast – and could turn somewhat quickly (relatively), but nothing in comparison of smaller dragons. Lo’qui had to hold his breath as he guided his dragon through clumps of Thread that there was no way they could of flamed in time – and there was the sharding wind. Lo’qui swallowed as a strand blew past above his head, his heart racing and swearing – though the words were torn just as quickly from his lips.

Whenever Jarath’s smoke blew back and clouded his vision temporarily, Lo’qui could only hope that his vision would clear before something fatal would hit them. Firestone. There was moment of nothing – a rare moment that was good for loading his dragon up with as much firestone as possible, Lo’qui reminded Jarath at the beginning of every Threadfall that because he could hold more firestone than other dragons, he should keep full, not waiting until his flame had petered out. (As had happened too many times and had them blinking between in pain.) After reloading Jarath with some firestone, he was back to flaming a large sheet, some of it somehow missing Jarath’s heat and Nimith dove to flame a clump that had gotten past Jarath… The bronze was somewhat aware that more had escaped his flame and growled angrily, angling toward a large clump to take his anger out into. As he did so was when Lo’qui and Jarath were interrupted mentally by Fath’s sad cry of pain. Jarath growled again, flame erupting from his mouth. Lo’qui felt an inward shiver and swallowed. It hadn’t been his dragon, but he didn’t like the idea of it being a possibility, or that they’d have one less large flame in their Wing as they attacked the High Position. I can burn his share too. Jarath half boasted, half directed toward his rider’s concerns as he continued to flame.

Muze :: Green Rylath

She wasn’t conscious of getting bolder when directing Rylath at Thread, she supposed it was Rylath’s eagerness, or just her own. Something inside her wanted out. Something inside her didn’t want to be boxed up anymore – her confidence had been worn to shreds when she had become a rider, and it had been so many months… turns… since she had felt that confidence. It was a weakness she wished to fill or even replace, and perhaps this was the reason Muze pushed herself to rash or impulsive choices, as she could possibly pretend it was her confidence returning.

Right as their Wing hit the edge of Threadfall, the greenrider pushed Rylath forward (though the green’s instinct didn’t need much encouragement) and they burned a lovely arc of flame and ash. It created a thrill in Muze and she became one with her dragon for a moment to get a feeling of flight, hatred for Thread, and what it was like in their position from her dragon’s point of view. She pulled away quickly, afraid that her human eyes would miss something vital, and they swayed to and fro in their spot flaming the clumps and strands that wandered in their area. The fear and anxiety of being ‘boxed in’ got to Muze, though she wouldn’t be able to voice what it was she was feeling or why she pushed her dragon to chase a few strands they had missed that were a bit beyond their wing… Upon winging upward, the wind pulled them up and sideways suddenly – meeting their unseen foe that struck Rylath. Muze gasped in pain, clutching her hip as she instructed her dragon between and finally back into their spot, which suddenly felt more like safety than a box. 'I'm... I'm sorry.' Not your fault! Not at all! And the dragon tried to sway playfully to life her spirits. 

Her adrenalin was met with cries of dragons, both warrior and of pain haunted Muze as they flamed. She tried not to get distracted, especially as a bronze and blue blinked out of their formation, apparently hurt enough to need treatment. She remembered that had happened to them before, and her body shuddered upon remembrance. For the moment, all hard emotions cowered and caution settled in as they continued to flame Thread. Though the dragon and human were relatively quiet, they shared the experience, sorrow, fear, anger – and their perspectives as they fought the worm like foe.

Lo'qui // INDIGO
Muze // VIOLET

[Alyx]

G’rett and Bronze Mastromideth

Hurt! G’rett winced at the Bronze’s sending, feeling the single word spike through his brain. Ash! Understood. Mastro’s ever-even tone answered Fath, but G’rett highly doubted the Wingleader’s Bronze heard him. ‘Which one was hit?’ Hard to tell. I think Fath, but it’s possible his was hit as well? G’rett frowned; A’zael had had almost unnatural luck in the Falls until recently. G’rett wasn’t sure what had changed, but it couldn’t be helped.

‘Okay, move up and cover. Hopefully it wasn’t too bad.’ They have landed, we will see. G’rett groaned, letting Mastromideth power forward, the flames funneling out of his mouth to burn a passing clump to ash and dust. Jarath and Lo’qui moved up into G’rett’s view and he assumed they were doing the same - covering the gaps. ‘This is starting out wonderfully.’ Indeed. Eyes up, please? ‘Right.’ G’rett tilted his head back, wiping the ash off his goggles as Mastromideth surged forward after another clump of falling Thread.

Joia and White Tellamuth

Blue Tucseth’s prideful joy rolled over the Wing, but Tellamuth didn’t flinch at the Blue’s words. Well done, Tuseth. Joia’s lips twitched into a small smile. ‘Don’t encourage him too much. Vitra has enough problems with his competitive tendencies.’ The White laughter chimed in her mind as Tellamuth banked out from behind the Golds to join the fighting. I don’t see the harm in a little encouragement. ‘That’s because you aren’t trying to keep him in check.’

Jaws opened, the flames escaping the White’s teeth. The smell of scorched Thread washed back over them, the silver dusty ash laying the first coat of many that Joia’s and Tellamuth’s gear would be collecting today. ‘It reeks.’ Sadly, it can’t be helped. Joia leaned forward, doing her best to lower the wind resistance that Tellamuth had to deal with as he chased down another tangled mass of falling silver strands.


G’rett/Mastromideth - Tan
Joia/Tellamuth - Teal

[Zen]

Round 2 Results
Lo’qui/Jarath: None
Muze/Rylath: Minor
G’rett/Mastromideth: None
Joia/Tellamuth: None
Vitra/Tucseth: None
NPC: None

Wing Rotation
High Wing: Tempest, Alternating Backward Vee Formation.
Middle Wing: Breeze, Alternating Backward Vee Formation.
Low Wing: Gale, Alternating Triple Trail Formation.
Queen's Wing: Zephyr, Alternating Trail Formation.

Round 3 has begun. Remember to choose a new color!

---

A’zael :: Bronze Fath

Talaria did good work. She assured him the wound wasn’t as bad as his dramatic dragon was making it out to be, it was likely just the awkward positioning of it that made it feel all the worse for Fath. “I would suggest you two sit out the rest of the fight if I didn’t know who I was talking to, so I won’t waste my breath,” she told him with narrowed eyes, “The numbweed should do its job for most of the rest of the fight, but he’ll probably start feeling it again before it’s over. If the distraction of the pain gets either of you hurt again you can look to someone else for treatment for ignoring my advice.”

A’zael grinned at her, “Fine, fine, I’ll ask for Zenelle next time.”

Talaria rolled her eyes and turned toward the next dragon that had flown in in need of treatment, muttering under her breath, “Next time.”

Fath was back on his feet, testing his weight on his formerly favored foreleg, Feelsweird, mine.

If he let himself, A’zael could feel it as well, a strange sort of tightness pulling in the chest area with the movement of the leg. It wasn’t painful, but it was uncomfortable. He reached up to pat Fath’s shoulder, considering, “Do you think you can fight through it?” Had it been him, returning to the fight wouldn’t have been a question, but when it was his dragon, that was different.

Yesyes. Wego. Wefight, the bronze insisted, already his eyes were tinged red just thinking about it.

Grinning again, A’zael pulled himself back into place on Fath’s back, strapped himself in, and sent them back into the air. You sure you’re alright? Yesyes. Hurtgone, the bronze assured him, and accepted the image back into the fight.

They appeared in the space between the high and middle position so A’zael could assess the Wing for a moment before rising back into their position, nudging Fath to alert their seconds they’d returned. Backnow! Fath reported happily to the Wing, though his voice was edged with a growl for Thread that made it sound rather strange with the overall happy tone. A’zael shook his head, adjusted his goggles, and turned Fath loose on their enemy.

It wasn’t much longer before Fath informed him, Gamathsayswerotatenow. A’zael grimaced, thinking of Tempest rotating into high position. Alright Fath, tell them… prepare for low position. They’d have to wait until Tempest was settled in directly below them before they shifted. Prepareforlow! Fath announced. Almost there, A’zael thought with a half amused, half exasperated sigh, doing his best to divide his attention between the fight and watching for Tempest below. Rusath’s familiar voice informed him of their arrival as Fath was burning another clump, We are below, A’zael, and ready to relieve your Wing. Fath, let them know, we go low now. Wegolow!

He gave the image and Fath took them between to the low altitude, empty now that Breeze had moved to middle position. He suddenly wished they were in middle instead. If Fath’s numbweed were to wear off, it would be better done in low position. Well the bronze was fine for now, but he prepared himself for the possibility that they may need to leave the fight early as Talaria had said. Alternating Triple Trail, he told Fath, and bronze relayed the order to the rest of the Wing as they again took a position at the back of the formation with the lower alternating fliers.

M’kal :: Bronze Draveth

A wound that a human would have bound and bandaged was left to open air on dragons, apparently, as M’kal learned as Zenelle finished her work on Draveth’s neck. He frowned at the sight of it. It would leave a nasty scar, for sure. “During Fall we work quickly, and bandaging a dragon up takes quite a lot of resources and time, and very well might hinder them when they return to the fight,” Zenelle was explaining, as he had questioned the decision, “He should be fine until Fall is over, but we’ll clean the wound again when it’s done and apply more numbweed for him. Bandages are only for the worst cases, so you should be glad he doesn’t need it.”

It irked slightly for her to tell him how he should or shouldn’t feel about it, but he managed to let it go without trying to argue over it. Draveth was eager to return to the fight, so clearly he was alright as she had said. Let’s go, we are missing it! The bronze pushed, assuring his rider, There is no pain. She did well, for a greenrider. M’kal couldn’t help the amusement, sure Zenelle had done well for any rider, but he didn’t voice the thought as he turned to climb back to Draveth’s back and strap himself in. He gave Zenelle a wave in thanks for her work before Draveth took off and he gave him the image to return them to the fight.

M’kal immediately fed his dragon more firestone, Now can we try to conserve flame a bit? If you keep arguing with me you’re going to get hurt again. Draveth sniffed, That was your fault, you weren’t keeping a good enough eye out. He swung around to flame, and M’kal’s annoyance was slightly relieved as he noted that the flame was more controlled this time. It could probably be better, but he’d take what he could get from the stubborn bronze.

They seemed to be doing better, with less arguing and more firestone conservation, when Draveth informed him, Doriath says we’re to prepare to rotate to high position. Finally. M’kal gazed upward, as though he’d be able to really see what was happening in the high position from their lower altitude. Breeze Wing appeared below them and Doriath gave the order, and the entire Wing betweened to below Gale Wing and quickly resumed the fight of the immediate fall through. M’kal took the moment to toss more firestone into Draveth’s mouth, and then Gale Wing was gone and there was nothing between them and the onslaught of Thread. Draveth began to spew larger flames again, but this time it was more warranted, and M’kal could not be bothered to try arguing with him when Thread was everywhere. This is where I belong! Draveth insisted eagerly. Just stay focused, M’kal cautioned, doing his best to keep alert. It would be far harder to avoid injury in the high position.

A’zael/Fath: Red
M’kal/Draveth: Bronze
NPC: Silver

[Taxx]

Vitra :: Blue Tucseth

Thank you, Tellamuth! Tucseth replied, managing a whole body wriggle at the praise. Tellamuth has told me I am doing a good job, he added to Vitra at her questioning. It is nice of him to say so, even if I already knew it. Tossing a glance at the whitepair, Vitra raised a hand to acknowledge it as well. They might not see it, considering their attention was probably elsewhere, but she could mention it later, too.

Yes, you're doing well. It couldn't hurt to encourage him on that, even as she kept him firmly in check, because he was still very much intent on doing more than staying in formation. Let's keep that up, hmm? Which means not acting out, okay?

Another muttered complaint about how much fun he was missing out on, but he did as asked and stayed where he was supposed to. More strands spotted and scorched, each burst of flame followed by a rush of satisfaction at his success.
Alyx

Tan for Tucseth

[kevna]

Ny’x – Blue Nimocith

Ny’x helped Riasu with the cleaning, and they made small talk. She tried not to let it irk her how kind and happy Riasu was. As Riasu numbed and dressed the wound as best she could, they fell into silence, and it felt awkward to her. The sweet warble that Nimocith let out at the relief the Numbweed provided softened Ny’x for a short time towards the taller dark-skinned woman.

“Feel better, big guy?” Riasu murmured, patting Ny’x cloudy blue. Much better, will you offer my thanks to her?

“He says thank you.” Ny’x said, folding her arms around herself, though Riasu was already moving off. “Well, he’s very welcome. You are good to go-“ “But come back for a check in after fall. Yes, I remember. Thank you again, Riasu.” She tried her very best to keep her voice appreciative but was sure it had ended up as neutral at best.

“Right, well, you know the drill.” Riasu raised an eyebrow at her, and then gave a small smile and wave before heading off to the next dragon. It was almost as if Riasu was admonishing her, and she did it well with just a simple look.

Shall we? Nimocith asked quietly, and Ny'x tried not to look embarrassed that she had been watching Riasu walk off. We shall. She murmured to him, all business. And then because she couldn’t help herself, Do you think she’ll impress? She climbed back up into place, strapping herself in, and her dragon, with his infinite patience, only uttered a kind, Yes, there is a dragon out there for her.

Was it just her, or had Riasu looked back at them when he had said that? She was imagining things. Right. That’s good. She did try to be genuine. Nimo didn’t call her on it. We shall be entering the high wing, backwards vee. He showed her their place, and Ny’x did her best to switch back to focusing on thread. Nimocith’s intense focus when fighting thread was back-she scooped some firestone into his mouth and he chewed as they went between. They came out flaming, ash swirling all around them.

Ny'x -Nimocith :: Gold

[tovaana]

Lo’qui :: Bronze Jarath

He could almost hear a song of flaming Thread, but a version that his son had written and composed, as the flame scored the sky and created ash. While he didn’t connect well with Cionessan, he had to admit that he had a talent of getting a tune stuck in his head, especially one that seemed to fit fighting Thread as if it moved with the breath of a dragon, the flame of the dragon, the wind that carried Thread – as if his son had somehow experienced fighting Thread, which was impossible. Perhaps Lo’qui had told enough stories that he just knew, or perhaps there was more to his son’s mind that he could fathom. Jarath didn’t tell his rider to focus though, because Lo’qui was keeping his eyes wary around them as he multi-focused, something he could do sometimes, especially if it was connected to the idea of Thread, or his reasoning to fight the enemy (like to protect those he loved).

The bronze pair felt highly stimulated by the constant barrage of Thread when they were told to prepare for the Low position. Jarath was more aware of the Wing that had lifted under them and was ready to take their place, while Lo’qui focused on the image shared in order to blink to their new positions. Coldness surrounded them. The relief of air and the bitter wind was always almost like a surprise after being between.

He felt Jarath tilt his body quite suddenly, arching and snaking toward a clump before it could wander toward the gold’s wing. Lo’qui chuckled breathlessly afterward, his stomach feeling like it might release his earlier meal. You’re getting old if that made you sick. Lo’qui laughed at that, because he knew his dragon didn’t think of Lo’qui as old at all. ‘If I’m old, then you’re almost as old.’ I said you were ‘getting’ old. We are in our prime, if anything. Lo’qui just grinned, guiding Jarath backward to a head off a clump that his large bronze hadn’t seen.

Muze :: Green Rylath

It was reassuring when the dragons returned that had had to tap out earlier. Especially as they headed into the High position. She felt her stomach twist as they got up under Gale Wing, easily recognizing her brother’s large brown flaming a clump. She smiled, as she was quite proud of her brother on such a large dragon (as she unconsciously bought into the ‘larger is better’). Then her brother disappeared between and Tempest Wing rose to meet the edge of fall in their alternating position.

Muze gasped as a partial clump tore away from Rylath’s flame with the wind and down on her unsuspecting neighbor in the position next to her. ‘Rylath!’ But Rylath had seen it also, her dragon taut with nerves about the idea of her dragon kin getting hurt because of them. They successfully flamed the clump and as they rose up back to their position, Muze looked up too late and a few strands slapped and clung to Rylath’s neck. Muze gasped again in shock anger and blinked them between, desperately coming up with an image so they wouldn’t be lost forever.

Muze felt her eyes start to water. She hated Thread. ‘I’m so sorry.’ Muze moaned inwardly and Rylath hid the pain that lingered. I am fine! See! No more pain. I am glad we got that big clump, is all. You helped me away from Thread, thank you Muzemine. Muze swallowed, not having much time to feel bad for herself, Thread didn’t let you have time like that.

LO'QUI :: YELLOW
MUZE :: LIME

[Alyx]

G’rett and Bronze Mastromideth

‘Right!’ I see it. The mellow tones of the Bronze’s voice rolled over G’rett’s mind as his dragon turned on the spot, doubling slightly back on himself to drop after the escaping clump of Thread. Flames licked over the silver strands, turning them dark black in a moment. ‘I swear, sometimes I think you were born with fewer bones than other dragons to pull off moves like that.’ Mastro chuckled, backing around and rising back to his position in the Wing’s formation. I do believe I have all the same parts as any other dragon, G’rett. ‘Yea, not doing that you don’t.’

He felt the Bronze’s attention turn away, a moment later Mastro trumpeted a greeting as Fath returned to their ranks. Welcome back. G’rett took a chance to look over the pair as they slid back into the formation. ‘It must not have been too bad then?’ Or he simply does not wish to sit out the Fall. Yea, G’rett could see that. Mastromideth could be the same way, and Fath, for all his goofiness, was one of the best Bronzes G’rett knew. ‘Next to you, of course.’ I was about to say... The humor was there though, so G’rett doubted he’d wounded the massive dragon’s feelings.

Prepareforlow! Were they rotating already? Mastro grumbled a bit but shifted his form to line up for the drop. ‘I hadn’t realized we’d been in the air that long.’ He worded it as a statement and a question, Mastromideth’s unease rolling over their link in response. I didn’t think we had. But if the Weyrleader says we rotate. ‘Yea, I know.’ Only a breath later, Fath’s voice shot through their thoughts. G’rett waited a moment more for Mastro to toast off a nearby clump of strands before signaling him to drop into the lower position with the rest of their Wing.

Joia and White Tellamuth

After a few moments, all Joia was doing was holding on. Tellamuth whipped around, darting between the larger Queens to chase down escaping Thread. There wasn’t too much fall-through, but enough to keep them busy; Joia felt the ache in her shoulder and arms, tense from pulling herself as close to Tellamuth’s body as she could to make it easier for him to maneuver. He was quick, fluid, and graceful - Joia almost wanted to just close her eyes and enjoy the ride, if it wasn’t for the danger of the Thread falling around them.

Don’t fall asleep on me. The White’s voice was playful, and Joia could feel him leveling out. Her head came up, watching as he dropped into a drift behind one of the Golds. ‘All good?’ Yes, just taking a moment. Stone, please? Oh right! Joia grinned, taking a moment to return the wave to Vitra as she caught the motion out of the corner of her vision, then turned to pull a few rocks free from the sack at her knee. ‘Not too tired, are you?’ No, I am good for a bit more. It’s nice, to be fighting. Joia smiled, leaning forward as Tellamuth turned his head back toward her. Joia soft-tossed the palm-sized chunks of Firestone into his waiting jaws.

G’rett/Mastromideth - Blue
Joia/Tellamuth - White
Taxx for a wave back :)