In It For The Long Fall [Threadfall]

[Zen]

Round 3 Results
A’zael/Fath: None
M’kal/Draveth: None
Lo’qui/Jarath: None
Muze/Rylath: None
N’yx/Nimocith: Serious (SAVED by M’kal and Draveth)
G’rett/Mastromideth: None
Joia/Tellamuth: Minor
Vitra/Tucseth: Minor
NPC: None

Round 4 has begun. Reserve group rotates in. Remember to choose a new color!

---

A’zael :: Bronze Fath

Everything seemed to be alright with the rotation, much to A’zael’s relief. Fath informed him of a few littlehurts, but nothing terribly concerning. Maybe he was worried for nothing. He let out a relieved sigh, though he knew the Fall was far from over and there was still plenty of time for things to go wrong. Such pessimistic thought processes had become natural to him from his time as Weyrleader, though he wished it was something he could stop now that it wasn’t his job anymore. He used to be so optimistic. With a short laugh, he directed Fath to a clump another pair had missed, the pace much slower in the low position. You doing alright? Finefine. He patted one gloved hand on the bronze’s neck and turned his attention back to the Wing as the reserve riders joined the fight and room was made for them in the formation.

M’kal :: Bronze Draveth

The high position was noticeably more chaotic. It was their first real experience with rotating during a real Fall and the difference between altitudes was readily apparent when you got to experience them all in turn. Even Draveth was more focused and less distracted by trying to show off, but M’kal had to admit his dragon was an impressive fighter when he actually put his mind to it, not that he expected anything less. He might have pointed out as much but he didn’t want to give the bronze any reason for distraction.

In the group of higher alternating fliers, they were the first line of defense for everyone below them, and he hated to admit it, but Draveth was right… it felt like where they truly belonged. The bronze’s flame was impressive and seared through thick clumps of Thread with ease. The lower Wings were more suited for blues and greens who could dart quickly after what the larger dragons missed, but the high position was made for bronzes.

Suddenly Draveth swerved out of position, causing M’kal to grip at his straps, What are you doing? Saving Nimocith’s scrawny hide, the bronze replied with some amusement as he flew over the bluepair where M’kal could only guess they’d been going after Thread someone had missed to not be focused on what was above them. Draveth’s flame brought a flash of welcome warmth, and then the bronze was swinging back into position, telling the blue, You’re welcome. M’kal got the feeling he hadn’t received thanks for covering them from the cocky tone his dragon used.

Did they even really need you to do that? M’kal hadn’t honestly been paying any attention to what the bluepair was doing, far more concerned with watching above them to ensure another score didn’t take them back to the Weyr again. Of course they did. M’kal wasn’t convinced, but he couldn’t say for sure if the bronze had just wanted to show off or if the bluepair really had been in danger. You ought to watch out for yourself. I am. Besides, it’s much more impressive to save others. M’kal was becoming more convinced his dragon had just wanted to show off after all, Don’t leave our position again unless I tell you to. The bronze growled, I’ll do as I see fit. M’kal bit back further argument, as he didn’t want the both of them distracted enough to get scored again. They couldn’t afford such distractions in the high position.

A’zael/Fath: Brown
M’kal/Draveth: Red
NPC: Yellow

[tovaana]

Lo’qui :: Bronze Jarath

One would think that being in the low wing position would mean ‘easier’ or less stress, but for Lo’qui his shoulders seem to tense more, straining muscles as he glanced about. He usually got a headache from peering around so hard to make sure he didn’t miss strands. This was the position back at Ierne that they got hit the most, too, as leadership insulted bronzes – putting them in positions where there were no quick greens to save their hides. Still, even surrounded by greens, he was having to blink between whenever there was a strand that they wouldn’t be able to get out of the way for, coming back behind it to burn. Such a waste of flame, it felt like sometimes, as there was only so much consolidating as he could with lungs like Jarath's. It’s never a waste. Jarath simply said, a hard edge to the words as he flamed a smaller clump and tilted so they could hit a couple of other strands that were headed into their bubble of responsibility.

Muze :: Green Rylath

Muze swore, sailor words, as she had spent enough time around them. There had never been any moment she felt like she had had to use them, nothing scary enough – Threadfall seemed to give her plenty of reason. The wind was scarier up higher and was she felt a little lightheaded as she adjusted to the elevation. Muze had just guided Rylath away from a clump that had come at them sideways and she could still feel her heart in her ears.

Threadfall always seemed to take away the magic of flight, especially when there wasn’t much time to think about it. But she could still appreciate her dragon’s hide in the sunlight and the power behind the flame. There was a rare moment where both felt like they could catch their breath, though it was harder to get oxygen to her lungs. ‘You are glorious Rylath…’ Rylath beamed, her red eyes bleeding blue for a few heartbeats before they were completely focused on their enemy again.

Lo'qui :: WHITE
Muze :: SILVER

[Taxx]

Vitra :: Blue Tucseth

A burst of speed carried Tucseth toward another bit of Thread, jaws open and flame rushing to envelope it before he pulled up to rejoin the Wing. He cast a glance over at the rest of Zephyr- toward Tellamuth mostly, half-expecting the white to make another comment on just how awesomely he was performing. He'd done so before, why not again? But there was no recognition this time, and the burst of irritation at being overlooked was followed by a short but effective fight to do what he wanted to do... not what he was supposed to do. Rules were boring and stupid. He was better at this than any of them, and he'd prove it!

No, Tucseth! Not enough, and Vitra was along for the ride before she could put a stop to it. He surged forward, toward a strand another dragon could have got, but before he could actually flame, a gust of wind tossed the strand toward him as well. It hit him in the chest. A short yelp escaped him at the stinging pain, but there was already a reference point pushed at him by Vitra and he took it. They were gone and back in only seconds, and it was an already subdued Tucseth who emerged, only to be met with a sound scolding from Danovellith.

He sulked through it, surprisingly quiet. There was some pain, but it wasn't enough to stop him from fighting, and he wasn't about to give up now. He'd just settle for being the best while doing what he was supposed to. Yeah, that'd work.
Yellow for Tucseth


K'zar :: Green Lepsuth

He was used to the range of fear, anxiety, worry, panic. He expected the constant self-doubt of her own ability, or that of some other dragon doubting her. The nervous idea of getting hurt, or K'zar getting hurt, or her hurting someone else... really, there was no lack of things for her to stress over.

His own doubts, he kept to himself. Lepsuth was quite capable of thinking up plenty on her own, she didn't need his input. She was afraid. He knew she would be, for all his assurances that they'd have plenty of dragons to watch out for them. She'd already witnessed scored dragons and riders coming in to be healed, and the terror that she'd be one of them was consuming.

Arms around her neck, forehead against hers, K'zar ignored everything else around them as he did his best to keep that fear to a minimum. Tried to bolster her by reminding her they'd done practice after practice, that they weren't going in alone, that they were ready for this.

None of it really mattered. And it wasn't that Lepsuth didn't trust him- she didn't trust herself. She didn't want to do this, didn't want to even try. What could she do, that someone else couldn't do better?

You're as good as any of them. Come on, Lepsuth. Let's go, okay?

She didn't want to. But for K'zar? She'd try.

Holding still as her rider mounted, rising as he was settled and springing skyward at his request. She went between and emerged into the fight, slipping into her place in Tempest. Eyes still yellow with fear, she waited for K'zar to guide her, and at his direction she turned her gaze and her flame on the nearest strand of Thread.
White for Lepsuth

[Alyx]

G’rett and Bronze Mastromideth

Lower positions were always nicer than high, in G’rett’s opinion. Mastromideth was a big boy, one of the biggest dragons Mavros claimed - but that meant he made a very nice target for the silvery beast that dropped down on them. He’d much rather have another Wing over them to take part of the pressure off him in keeping the Bronze safe.

‘Up and left.’ Mastro’s head swiveled around, red-orange flames bursting forth to scorch the offending danger. ‘How are you doing? Stone?’ Not yet. G’rett nodded, scanning over them for more Thread as the Bronze rolled and dropped slightly to chase down another clump.

Joia and White Tellamuth

Joia tried to keep her eyes open, watching for Thread around them. Tellamuth was doing all the work; Joia couldn’t very well breathe flames herself, and Tellamuth’s wings were her only way to fly. Did she feel useless? Only a little bit, honestly. She did wish she could do more, but she also knew that the best thing she could do was be his second pair of eyes to keep them both safe.

We could always ask them about borrowing a flamethrower for you. Tellamuth’s tone was humorous, but Joia could feel the time in the air wearing on him. ‘Maybe. Have to know how much they weigh though, might be a counterpoint to helping out if I’m weighting you down more with a heavy flamethrower.’ Tellamuth banked around, Joia gasping softly behind her scarf as he burned a nest of silvery strands to crispy ashes. True I suppose. Joia waited a moment for him to level out. ‘Do you want me to? Do I need to help more?’ Tellamuth instantly wrapped her in warmth. You just being with me is help enough, you know that.

‘Charmer.’ I do my best. Tellamuth let loose with another burst of flames, and somewhere to their left, a dragon yelped in pain. Joia glanced over just in time to see Tucseth wink away Between. She tensed, Tellamuth pulling up for a moment; a moment later the Blue pair reappeared and Joia let out the breath she’d been holding. ‘Are they okay?’ I believe so. Danovellith has a few choice words for them, but I think are mostly okay. Vitra looked okay from where Joia could see, as did her Blue. ‘Hopefully.’

A glint of silver flashed just out of the corner of Joia’s vision. She turned in reflex, watching in almost slow motion as the tiny tangle dropped from someplace above them. ‘Tell! Drop!’ Tellamuth made a noise, reeling back and trying to avoid the tangle. Joia panicked, reaching out without thinking to swap the danger away from the White. Pain lanced through her arm, the cry escaping her lips in shock. Tellamuth echoed her cry, dropping them quickly into the frigid blackness to kill the wiggling stands before they could burrow farther.

A few breaths later, the White pair flashed back into the skies, Tellamuth’s concern hyperfocused as Joia swatted the now dead tangle from her forearm. Are you alright?? ‘I think so?’ It had happened so quickly, Joia honestly wasn’t sure. Her forearm pulsed, but without taking off all the gear they flew in, she couldn’t know for sure. ‘I think it was only a little burn. It’s dead, you are okay, and I’ll be alright once I stop hearing my heart in my ears.’ Do you need me to land? Joia leaned forward, running both her hands over the crest of the White’s neck. ‘No, I’m good. Promise.’ Do not do that again. Joia smirked. ‘Do what? Take hits for you? I can’t promise that and you know it.’ Tellamuth gave an unhappy rumble, then drifted back into formation, Joia turning her attention back toward the space over them to hopefully avoid a repeat of her own stupidity.


(Joia is taking their hit with thread to the outside of her left forearm)
G’rett/Mastromideth - Bronze
Joia/Tellamuth - Tan

[kevna]

Ny’x – Blue Nimocith

Fighting in the topmost wing was far scarier than the middle wing, and even in that wing they had been scored seriously enough to need medical attention. The wind seemed far stronger, the cold more severe, and there were innumerable opportunities for harm-she couldn’t help but feel vulnerable. Zi’lor hadn’t saved them from this most recent injury, and that was caused to feel more susceptible… The routine of tossing firestone in Nimocith’s mouth, flame and repeat was not enough to distract the brunette from her fears, so she took on a hyperalert watch. Firestone, flame and ash, repeat. She didn’t have to help Nimocith much, he had it under control.

A large net of thread sought to escape them, but Nimocith was quick to swerve, and his flame was almost enough to engulf all of it. Almost. The small chunk that escaped was enough of a distraction for them to miss it…The flash of heat and then fall of ash overtop of them had Ny’x coughing and looking up. She felt herself pale as she realized that the departing bronze duo had just scored thread that had been about to fall atop them. How had they missed that? She felt her cheeks enflame with something akin to embarrassment and profuse relief, and her eyes lingered on the departing bronze.

I didn’t notice it. It’s my fault.

I didn’t either… It’s not your fault. Who was that?

Draveth. Did you thank him? She tossed more firestone into her blue’s mouth, and he failed to respond long enough for her to gather that he hadn’t. Why not?

It took me too long to realize what he had done for us, and I don't want to distract him now. Nimocith flamed, letting his full attention return back to the enemy at hand. Ny’x couldn’t help but look over her shoulder towards them, noting the dark bronze’s ferocious approach to threadfall, and wondering how intense Draveth’s rider could be as well… She blinked, realizing her focus was lacking, and patted Nimocith in apology, before refocusing. She would have to track down Draveth and his rider to thank them.

Siorreya – Green Amagetith

She had to talk to A’zael about this ridiculous reserve status that they were one. She felt like a child, being told what she and Amagetith could and could not do. ‘Be a good little child and wait here for the grown ups to do the real work.’ She folded her arms and cursed under her breath. It was probably a good thing that A’zael was so good looking, or she’d have beat him up long before this. But he had such a pretty face, it would be a shame to mar it. Plus, she could admit, that these aggressive feelings were more the cause of Amagetith’s hatred towards thread then Siorreya’s true feelings toward her wingleader. Mostly. Still was good A’zael had a pretty face.

When they got the call to switch out another, Siorreya was already strapped in and anxiously waiting. Amagetith didn’t even check to make sure Sio was braced before she launched into the sky.

We are in alternating triple trail formation… Low wing. Both she and Ama groaned at that. After this whole wait, they would be in the lowest wing, the less intense fighting. The top wing was their favorite. Oh, how they enjoyed the fierce wind, the need for strong maneuvers and full bellied flame. Siorreya gave Amagetith firestone, and they imagined their position before blinking into and then out of between. For a moment their worst fears were realized, as only a few puffs of flame were needed-then a larger clump fell from above them and to the east, still within their position, and Siorreya felt a part of Amagetith as they manuevered sharply, twisting and flaming in order to sear their enemy.

Ny'x - Nimocith :: Violet
Siorreya - Amagetith :: Purple

[Zen]

Round 4 Results
A’zael/Fath: None
M’kal/Draveth: Minor
Lo’qui/Jarath: Minor
Muze/Rylath: None
N’yx/Nimocith: Minor
Siorreya/Amagetith: Minor
G’rett/Mastromideth: None
Joia/Tellamuth: None
Vitra/Tucseth: Minor
K’zar/Lepsuth: Minor
NPC: Critical

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

Round 5 has begun. Remember to choose a new color!

---

A’zael :: Bronze Fath

The low position was proving to be a decent respite after the high position, with Fath informing him only of the occasional littlehurt and no dragons from Gale Wing heading back to the Weyr for healing. He kept wanting to check in with the other Wings, but he wasn’t the Flightleader for this fight and so he could focus entirely on his Wing instead. Things seemed to be going better than they were at the beginning of the fight, at least. For now. The addition of the reserve riders only bolstered those already in the fight, a fresh wave of fighters that could help pick up the slack of those who were tiring from constantly fighting the wild winds already. Their time in the low position was relatively uneventful, with the Wing working well together and the upper Wings clearly doing a great job, considering how lacking the fall through was.

Finally Fath informed him, Gamathsayspreparetorotate. The last leg of the Fall was upon them. It wouldn’t be too much longer, perhaps another hour at most. They really were lucky that even their longer Falls were on the shorter end. He knew some Weyrs had to fight certain Falls for near enough to six hours, though he also knew that they had far more Wings than Mavros, and it wasn’t uncommon for two Flights to participate in Falls that long, with one Flight taking over half way through. Regardless, it was more time for more pairs to be injured, or worse.

Being in the low position, they would rotate first. Alright Fath, tell the Wing… rotate to middle, alternating backward vee. Rotatetomiddle! Alternating… A’zael had to prompt him for the rest, as it was a bit too complicated for his dragon to pass on accurately, and Fath at least seemed somewhat aware of the importance, Backwardvee! The image for their rotation upward was then shared, and Fath gave a simple order that sent the Wing between. When they reappeared beneath Breeze Wing, it didn’t take long for B’rax to take his Wing higher. Things were going so well, A’zael somehow wasn’t surprised by the sudden spike of worry from Fath as the bronze announced, Smexith’sishurt! Hurtbad! Badbadbad! He cursed silently. It was always the rotations. His grip tightened on his straps as he directed Fath to a clump of Thread. V’riy was B’rax’s rider. He would have to wait to find out just what happened until after the Fall. All they could do right now was focus and try to prevent it from happening to anyone else.

M’kal :: Bronze Draveth

The high position was by far the most stressful, and though M’kal did agree that it seemed to be where Draveth did his best work, where the bronze could be the most useful, he was glad they didn’t have to fly the entire long Fall in the high position. But he kept the thought to himself to prevent another argument with his dragon, who he was sure was going to start complaining as soon as they had to rotate out and cede the high position to Breeze Wing. Draveth swung his head, flame spouting from his jaws in a wide arc as he burned a thin sheet of Thread away. Stray strands that had managed to escape the massacre fluttered around them on the wind and one managed to attach itself to Draveth’s wing.

It was the oddest sensation M’kal had ever experienced, feeling the burning pain in a wing he did not have. Quickly, he pulled up a return image and sent them between, not at all inspired to sit there dwelling on the feeling for very long. Draveth seemed more annoyed than in any real pain when they blinked back out into the fight, There is a hole in my wing! M’kal was tempted to try to look, but he was sure he wouldn’t be able to see it even if he did. Draveth’s wingspan was quite large, and judging by the amount of pain and the bronze’s ability to shake it over after a quick between, he doubted it was a very large score. Though the thought that it had eaten entirely through his dragon’s wing was a sobering one.

Do you want to get it seen to? he asked, unsure if that sort of wound warranted a visit to the healers right away or not. As Draveth had said… there was a hole in his wing. Somehow that seemed… perhaps worse than it was? Draveth snarled, I will burn every last strand from the sky! M’kal took that as a no. Fortunately it wasn’t much longer before they were informed to prepare for rotation. Draveth wasn’t pleased, as M’kal had predicted. We should stay here. Let the blues and greens rotate, and any other dragon too weak to keep fighting on the front line! M’kal only shook his head, We stay with our Wing, Draveth. The bronze growled, but when the image was given to send them to the low position, he complied. Reappearing far below, the bronze’s head instantly snapped upward, Smexith’s has been terribly wounded. They return to the Weyr. The bronze was strangely quiet for a moment, It is not good, M’kal.

The seriousness and the lack of any insult or insistence that they were better than the other pair for their lack of injury sent a chill down M’kal’s spine. It seemed even Draveth had some sense of respect for those who fell during the fight, and that meant a fellow bronzerider might be dying even now. But there was no keening, the bronze still lived, so that meant so did his rider. Draveth seemed more subdued after that, and the complaints M’kal had been expecting never came.

A’zael/Fath: White
M’kal/Draveth: Violet
NPC: Blue

[tovaana]

Lo’qui :: Bronze Jarath

It was always strange when Thread hit Jarath's tail or wings – because it was a phantom feeling in a body part he did not have. However, it did make it easier to realize that the pain was not his own when the feeling seeped through their connection. The dragon roared and Lo’qui took them promptly between and then back. It was rare that the large dragon went without any wound during a Fall, so it wasn’t a surprise, but disappointment he felt. Very rarely was it Lo’qui who got hit, so naturally it pained the bronze rider that his dragon suffered so. Scars make me look more rugged and dangerous. The dragon pushed his rider’s sadness away, not wanting him to feel sorry for either of them. Besides, we are winning. Lo’qui had to smile at that, refocusing on the present and ‘winning’ against Thread.

Muze :: Green Rylath

She wasn’t sure how they did it, but they ended up unscathed in the high position. Perhaps the amount of adrenalin that flowed through the young woman was enough to keep their wits about them, but by the time they took the cold trip between to the low position, Muze felt more than queezy. Muzemine okay?? Came the fast, jumbled, and panicked words of Rylath, but the feeling faded to feeling just a bit dizy and her muscles ached from being tensed for so long. ‘I am fine, I’m okay, it’s okay Rylath.’ She had to reassure her green so her green didn’t try and do anything rash like land them preemptively, especially with the soft headache pulsing in her temples. She felt her green’s dubious presence, looking over her rider mentally like a mother would after a toddler’s tumble off a cliff… but nothing as extreme like that had happened. ‘Shells, Rylath, I’m okay, ok?’ Okay, I am sorry Muzemine. You did not feel well, I could feel it.

Rylath headed off a scattered clump that had slipped through during rotations. However, the green’s attention was half on her rider as they swayed gently to and fro in their area burning the Thread that had been missed by the Wings above. She was going to take a long relaxing bath after this Fall, which as long as it was – wasn’t as long as some Falls in other parts of Pern. She tried not to think too much about that, instead simply feeling grateful for Mavros and the shorter Falls.

Lo'qui :: PINK
Muze :: TAN

[Taxx]

Vitra :: Blue Tucseth

He was still sulking. Quietly, in his own head, but still. Vitra didn't quite have the heart to add her scolding to what Danovelith had given, even if she privately thought he deserved it. She'd told him not to act out, after all. But the scoring and the gold's lecture were enough without her adding her input. And he was doing as expected now, if sullenly. Sticking to formation, flaming what came his way without pulling stunts to get to it.

Vitra made sure to pat him for each Thread flamed, smiling at the flickers of pride that came each time. He was still the best, she assured him. The best blue in the Wing.

A cry of pain, and Vitra's head jerked around to see Tellamuth blink out of sight. Bad? She caught her breath, her worry distracting Tucseth for the moment, and just as the white appeared again, her blue squeaked as pain flared along the base of his tail. Then it was between for them, again, the girl craning around to try to get a look as they emerged again. Not bad, Tucseth told her. Stings, but I can still fight.

His wings were starting to ache too. It had been a long Fall, and Vitra was looking forward to the break afterward, but Tucseth, stubborn even now, refused to even consider leaving the Wing early. Ache or no, he'd go until he couldn't anymore. I wasn't even doing anything, he complained. See! Even behaving...

Hush. Scores happen. This one was my fault, anyway. I got us both distracted.

Your fault, then. Tell them that, so I don't get in trouble again.
Orange for Vitra


K'zar :: Green Lepsuth

Lepsuth had managed the time before their rotation rather well. Reluctant as she was, she'd followed his guidance and done as asked, flaming when necessary and sticking to evasive maneuvers as required, to avoid strands of Thread that dropped or gusted by, letting others take care of scorching them to nothing.

He didn't waste time on heaping words of praise on her, only giving patient instruction, keeping them both focused. Then they were given the order to rotate and K'zar fixed the new point in mind before following the Wing into the low position. And then... of course. He saw the strand flung at them by the wind, started to call Lepsuth to duck, tried to try to physically yank her to one side, already knowing it wasn't going to work and bracing himself.

The point was fixed in his mind by the time the Thread struck Lepsuth on her left hind leg, and the pain wrenched a shriek from her, all K'zar's work undone. She twisted, as though trying to escape the pain, flung her head upward and bellowed, pain and terror spinning out of control, already convincing herself that it was terrible, she was hurt and she'd known it, known it, she'd let everyone down like she'd known she was going to.

Between. It was a command, not gentle suggestions and nudges this time. It was strength to focus on, to trust, and Lepsuth gave herself over to it willingly. She blinked out of the formation, trembled in the sheer darkness and frigidness of the void, and shuddered with relief as they returned. There was still pain, and she fretted about it, but the strength to lean on was still there and she clung to it. It was K'zar, her rider and her everything, and she trusted him like she trusted nobody else.

She turned and went back to the fight.
Cyan for Lepsuth

[kevna]

Ny’x – Blue Nimocith

The previous save kept Nimocith on high alert, even if Ny’x was semi-distracted. He twisted and turned, scoring thread and spreading ash as he went. Ny’x could thank her distraction, because as she was looking over her shoulder she noticed a large clump falling toward her cloudy blue’s tail.

Clump, behind you! Thank Faranth, Nimocith was so agile, for he was able to twist in the sky and avoid most of the thread, only a small section of it hit his tail. Together they visualized-and their jump between was brief, and creepily enough, relaxing compared to the high wing’s fight that they were currently engaged in. They reappeared in formation, and Ny’x checked on Nimocith’s pain.

I am well. It only stings a little bit. It can wait.

If you are sure. She returned softly.

We rotate, low wing, alternating triple trail formation. Ny’x couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief, feeling her chest relax a bit as they visualized their placement, and jumped between to stay with their wing. Coming out of between and into the lower wing was as she hoped, smaller clumps and strands of thread were easily wiped out of existence, and Ny’x felt herself relax incrementally. This rotation also meant that the fight was close to ending. Smexith’s is hurt. Nimocith’s comment was reserved, and Ny’x felt herself tense back up again. Should they go down and join the healers on the ground? Nimocith followed her line of thought. Our duty is here, now. If they need you, they will call for us.

Siorreya – Green Amagetith

They didn’t seem to have to wait long before Fath, in his simple way, explained their rotation. Middle wing! Amagetith’s excitement thrummed into Siorreya, and she smiled. Alternating backward vee. Their rotation was smooth for the most part, though Amagetith received slight scoring on her right back leg that soon sent them back between.

Rotations should not be this difficult for us. Amagetith’s frustration at herself stemmed from her hatred of thread, and it was a little too extreme for such a small score.

We are getting better. It would be nice if we had more time to be in the fight, experiencing all the rotations. Siorreya’s comment and thinking following along with Amagetith’s thought process.

We will get better. The blonde tried to lighten their united mood with resolve, and it worked, if only to switch the frustration to hatred again. We will. Amagetith's promise would have been chilling if directed at anything but thread. Red swirling eyes followed by bright orange flame engulfed the thread foolish enough to fall near them.

Ny’x – Blue Nimocith :: Red
Siorreya – Green Amagetith :: Black

[Alyx]

G’rett and Bronze Mastromideth

Mastromideth swung wide, flames rushing from his jaws to scorch a mass of Thread that G’rett had to think was literally the size of a man’s head. This crumbled and hissed, disintegrating into ash that rained down on the Blue and the rider they had saved - the other rider flashed a salute in return, and G’rett signaled Mastro back into his position in the formation. It is getting messy now. ‘It always does.’ The Wings were always open to the most danger in his opinion when they were rotating the Greens and Blues in and out - everyone was moving, and no one was focused on the Thread as much as they should be.

Fath says we are rotating to the middle position, alternating backward vee if I understand him properly? Mastromideth’s confusion funneled over G’rett, making the man grin. ‘Yea, um… this.’ He pulled up the image of the formation in question, making sure to highlight where they would need to be in it. Ah, now I understand. ‘Ready?’ Indeed. A moment of bitter, biting cold in the Between, and they were settling into the new positions. Mastro hissed, rumbling low under G’rett, sending vibrations though every inch of G’rett’s body. Smexith’s rider took a hit. G’rett glanced toward the faint forms of Breeze Wing’s riders over them. ‘How bad?’ Mastro was quiet for a moment, then responded in a somber tone. Sonath says bad bad.

Shard it. They’d been doing pretty good too.

Joia and White Tellamuth

Their minor brush with actual scoring had made both Tell and Joia more cautious. Tellamuth made sure to conserve energy when he could, and Joia constantly had her eyes on the sky over them. Her arm hurt, but she had to remind herself it could be much, much worse. She remembered lessons as a Candidate and a Weyrling; the stories of what Thread could do if it caught a rider or dragon in the wrong place. Her imagination when into overdrive, and not in a good way. After all, it hadn’t been long ago that they’d lost an experienced rider in K’ton and his bronze…

Joia? Tellamuth’s gentle prodding snapped Joia back to the moment; her fingers were white from gripping the straps too tight and her eyes watered from not blinking as she scanned the space over them. ‘Sorry.’ No apologies. Just… don’t think like that? It's too much, and you are distracting us both. ‘Right, right.’ She sent a rush of love over the connection to the White under her, leaning down to rub her gloved hands against his neck and shoulders. ‘My thoughts got away from me.’ Are you still hurting? ‘Only a little. I promise I’ll get it looked at when we land.’ Good.

G’rett/Mastromideth - Green
Joia/Tellamuth - Purple
deebear for borrowing Sonath

[Zen]

Round 5 Results
A’zael/Fath: None
M’kal/Draveth: None
Lo’qui/Jarath: None
Muze/Rylath: None
N’yx/Nimocith: None
Siorreya/Amagetith: Minor
G’rett/Mastromideth: None
Joia/Tellamuth: None
Vitra/Tucseth: Serious (Don't choose a new color, they'll be out for the rest of the fight)
K’zar/Lepsuth: Minor
NPC: None

Round 6 has begun. Remember to choose a new color!

---

A’zael :: Bronze Fath

Other than V’riy, so far there were no more serious casualties, but A’zael didn’t dwell on the thought for long lest he invite some new tragedy to dash his hopes that they could get through this Fall relatively…‘lightly’ scathed. Everyone seemed settled into their new positions, with Fath informing him of even fewer littlehurts as time passed. He chanced a glance downward, the clear day making it easy to lay of the land below, and could see the coast of the Western Continent in the distance. It wouldn’t be long now. They just had to hold out a little while longer. He fed Fath more firestone, during a momentary lull in their area of protection, glancing ahead at the rest of the Wing, but they seemed to be doing just fine. He wouldn’t breathe easy until they passed over the coast, however, and were free to let the sea swallow the rest of the Thread raining down from this Fall. It couldn’t end too soon either, as he was beginning to feel the sting of Fath’s injury returning, the numbweed beginning to wear off. He was pretty sure they’d be able to make it to the end, though. Fath didn’t seem terribly distracted by it yet.

M’kal :: Bronze Draveth

The low position was so much easier. M’kal almost felt like he could relax. Almost. He didn’t dare, the memory of Draveth’s injury still quite fresh in his mind, particularly as he could see it on the bronze’s neck in front of him. He did not want a repeat of that. He hadn’t reacted fast enough. The shock of it had delayed his response. He’d have to be better about that. Now that he knew more of what to expect from a bad score, maybe… no, he would be better. It also helped that Draveth seemed to be behaving, staying in position and controlling his flame better. He had rather expected the bronze to act out more in the more laidback low position, but V’riy’s injury had affected his dragon in a surprising way. M’kal was sure that wasn’t good news for V’riy. He rubbed one hand over Draveth’s neck, Look, the sea. We’re nearly done. Good… my neck is beginning to burn. Another surprise, that Draveth was ready to be done fighting. No… that really wasn’t a good sign for V’riy’s condition. We’ll get Zenelle to treat you again once we’re done, he assured his dragon, trying not to dwell on thoughts of the wounded bronzerider.

A’zael/Fath: Gold
M’kal/Draveth: Cyan
NPC: Tan

[Taxx]

Vitra :: Blue Tucseth

This is boring!

Apparently, Tucseth was recovering from the scolding. The memory was still quite fresh, so he wasn't planning on acting out, but he was regaining the antsy feeling of knowing he could do more than what was expected of him. He kept to formation, even without Vitra making him do so. The slow building ache and exhaustion might have had something to do with it. He wasn't ready to concede, and they were nearly done; the coast was in sight on the horizon. He wasn't going to give up when they were so close.

Fate would chose just then to strike.

A strand of Thread spotted and Tucseth swerved outward to get to it. At the same time, a sudden, fierce gust of wind countered the maneuver, and his wing was twisted around in a way it wasn't meant to move. Pain was an instant, white-hot fire that lanced through his wing, followed a moment later by the Thread he'd intended to flame catching on a front leg. And he was falling, one attempt to flap, to keep him and Vitra airborne, sending a fresh wave of pain through them both. His head swung upward, a bellow ringing out; his sudden fear, something Tucseth wasn't known for- bravado was certainly one of his talents- jolted Vitra to action.

They couldn't fly, that much was obvious. The sting of the Thread was spreading too rapidly for comfort, and there was only one course of action to take for scoring. She fixed a point of reference in her mind and sent them both between, back to Mavros. They emerged probably too close to the danger point for comfort, but with Tucseth's wing injured, better to fall from a lower height to minimize any further damage. Even then he landed hard, one painful beat of his wings slowing their fall a touch.

He hit the ground hard, jarring them both, and stood trembling, head craning around to stare at his throbbing wing. It hurts! What is it? I didn't know...

Dismounting quickly, turning to see a Healer already approaching, Vitra hugged him. I don't know. The Healer will. Lie down, Tucseth, okay?

A heavy sigh as he complied, stretching out both his wing and the scored foreleg, letting the Healers do their jobs. Numbweed eased the score, but that wasn't what bothered the blue most. A short conversation between his rider and the person who'd come over to help.

A strain, Vitra told him, forgoing the rest of the explanation because she didn't really understand it herself. We can't go back, she says you have to stay here.

Numb it! Stay? Not go back and finish? They were so close!

Another hug. No, Tucseth. It's not like a score. Trying to go back will make it worse. I'm sorry.

He was far from happy about it, but he couldn't fly without Vitra and it was obvious enough that she wasn't going to be swayed into ignoring the Healer's advice.

So he sighed, and stayed, and sulked.

K'zar :: Green Lepsuth

Low wing was easier. Less danger. But even with two Wings above to take care of most of the Thread that fell, there was enough missed for their Wing to be necessary.

Lepsuth still flamed and fought as guided, relying far more on K'zar than her own senses to know where to go, when to flame, when to duck away from Thread falling toward them. A stab of pain told him he'd missed one; Lepsuth jerked hard and moaned, but K'zar kept hold on her, eased the fear threatening to spill over, and sent her between to crumble the Thread to dust.

She shivered hard as they returned, more to dispel the freezing temperature of between than anything, and turned on a wing to scorch another strand of Thread.
Gold for Lepsuth

[tovaana]

Muze :: Green Rylath

It was a lot easier in the low position even if she felt a little queasy, and she could feel her muscles unknot like the multi-legged creatures in the sea releasing its tentacles. It wasn’t until she noticed Rylath’s flame flickering that her brows creased. ‘Rylath?’ Yes, muzemine? ‘You need more firestone, why didn’t you tell me?’ She started to feel panic as she shifted to get some, Rylath turning her head as Muze tossed it to her. I had enough! I didn’t want to bother you. ‘Bother me! It’s my job!’ Rylath apologized many more times and Muze sighed, parts of her feeling raw from her clothes rubbing or the wind whipping at any small bits of exposed skin. She had enough to worry about, let alone her dragon keeping things from her because she worried. ‘I’m glad you worry about me…’ Only Vavithan and her mother had worried about her often before her new dragonrider life. Even then, it had felt… well, she didn’t have time to think about that. ‘Just… this dragon rider life thing, we have to communicate. You have to tell me.’ Okay, next time I’ll tell you! And Muze thought that with her dragon’s short memory, she’d have to remember too.

Lo’qui :: Bronze Jarath

There was another breather and Lo’qui signaled mentally to let him give Jarath enough firestone that would hopefully last the rest of Threadfall. Once that had been done, Lo’qui just had to worry about hard-to-see strands and the sharding wind. Otherwise, there were brief moments where he could feel grateful that there hadn’t been any deaths, besides the tension earlier where someone had gone down. Nosy Jarath had found out that a dragon was badly hurt, something serious enough that they probably wouldn’t be coming back into Threadfall. They were fine though, and sometimes selfishly he would revel in that, as he didn’t want to leave his children like his father had left him… and that hadn’t even been while fighting Thread. Not your fault. The dragon had felt the feelings and redirected his rider. My, you’ve been moody this Fall. Lo’qui chuckled. ‘Thread is no joke.’ He said, a bit more somberly.

Lo'qui :: GRAY
Muze :: BLACK

[Alyx]

G’rett and Bronze Mastromideth

Stone. G’rett tossed the last of their firestone forward, letting Mastro catch it in his front teeth. The dragon snaked his head around, tossing the bag farther back into his jaws and crushing it. ‘I hope this is almost over, or I’m going to have to call for a resupply.’ Mastromideth’s jaws worked the rocks, grinding them against his back teeth. I believe we are in the last stretch. The reserve Greens are starting to feel the strain, so either way, we will have to call the fight.

G’rett frowned - he’d rather they chased the fall out over the water or the barren stone rather than have to pull out of the fighting early. The Ocean is near, I can smell it. ‘I’m glad you can. All I can smell is ash and burnt thread.’ G’rett reached up, wiping his goggles clear again. In the distance, faint blue. ‘Great. I’m about done with this mess today.’ Indeed. Mastro rolled and dove to catch an escaping clump of thread. Orange-white flames bathed the silver in light for but a moment, then ash washed back over the Bronze and G’rett as they powered through it and climbed on the winds back to their position.

Joia and White Tellamuth

The fall-though was thinning. Joia hoped that meant they were almost at the end of it. Tellamuth drifted into the wake of one of the Golds again, his wings wide to drift on their draft. ‘Tired?’ Perhaps a bit. The winds are very strong. Tellamuth’s weariness beat against Joia’s thoughts like wherrywings, making her wonder if she should pull them out of the fighting. No, we are almost done. ‘But you’re tired’ So are others, they are still here. Joia smiled. ‘Tellamuth, you don't need to prove anything.’ The White rumbled softly, then tilted his wing to slight back out of the Gold’s drag. Only a little longer. We are almost done, I think. I would like to stay till the end.

Whatever argument Joia was trying to draft up vanished as a dragon bellowed off to their right. Tellamuth pivoted around to face the sound, watching Tucseth’s blue form twist in place, then he and Vitra vanished; Joia’s heart froze. No.. no no. ‘Tell?’ Tellamuth focused for a moment, then rumbled softly. They are on the ground. So not gone. ‘How bad?’ I do not know. Tellamuth whined softly, winging forward to bletch a burst of flames over strings that should have been Tucseth and Vitra’s. ‘But they are okay? Right?’ I believe so. They have landed, that is all I know.

Joia’s teeth caught her lower lip, tugging it hard. No keening, so they were at least still alive. We finish the fighting, then we’ll go to check on them. ‘Right.’ They couldn't leave now - not with Tucseth already down. They’d stay to help chase down the remains, or as long as Tellamuth could hold out.


Taxx for Vitra/Tucseth mentions <3
G’rett/Mastromideth - Pink
Joia/Tellamuth - Brown

[kevna]

Ny’x – Blue Nimocith

It was a testament to her trust of Nimocith’s ability that she allowed herself to be distracted thinking about Draveth’s rider, wondering more about him. She would picture him gallantly coming and saving them again, or the two of them flying wing by wing over the waters as the sun set. Yes, it really was a pretty picture in her head.

Firestone, mine, please. Her polite dragon would prompt, and she would shovel more of the rock into his mouth before going back to her daydreaming. It wasn’t as if she was totally blind to what was going on, but she could have been more focused. Nimocith banked left, narrowly avoiding a stray strand that could have hit his wing, and then dove after the strand, easily diminishing it to nothing but dust and ash with a small flame.

Siorreya – Green Amagetith

She could always tell when Amagetith’s wings were starting to tire, it was an ache in her back that hinted at it. It had taken a while for Sio to catch on, especially in the cold months, but tired wings seemed to conjure the sympathy back pain. The small greenrider absently rubbed at her back, but didn’t say anything, didn’t check in. Amagetith could get defensive at times, especially when fighting thread. Much like Siorreya did during her menses.

She shoveled more firestone into the green’s mouth and held her breath as the fire turned thread to ash, not out of fear of any sort, but disgust. She hated thinking that the ash could get in her lungs. Especially thread ash. Yuck. Fire consumed more thread, and Siorreya smiled when Ama said in her fiery way, Take that you lout of wormy gunk.

Wormy gunk, huh?

I’m limited by your vocabulary. Amagetith muttered, obviously vexed, causing Siorreya to laugh out loud, which then sent her into a fit of coughs due to the ash in the air. Shard, I hope I don’t get sick again. She blinked as an array of memories seemed to vie for attention. Memories from her last illness, and not all of them stemmed from fear. Podrell… He achieved all sorts of feelings. Amagetith’s attention grew distracted, obviously aware of Siorreya’s diversion, and of course her gossipy nature dictated rapt attention of these memories she had clearly forgotten. It’s why Amagetith’s next flame didn’t entirely engulf the clump, and the strange wind caused a kickback, scoring the greens right foreleg.

Ouch, deadglow thread! Amagetith’s childish growl quickly turned Siorreya’s mind back to the matters at hand, and together they visualized, before blinking in and then out of between.

Sorry. Should probably stay focused.

That burns. Amagetith said simply, more a grumble then anything.

Ny'x - Blue Nimocith :: Bronze
Siorreya - Green Amagetith :: Teal Guarantee please!