Another of Cadgwith's mating flights

November 27th 2004
Logged by Pyrene

Living Caverns

Donis is scuttling through the caverns, chased by a kitchen girl wielding a broom. "But it wasn't me!" he protests, heading into the inner caverns.
Donis steps into the shadows that lead back into the Weyr.

Pyrene walks in with a small gust of snow and giddily flushed cheeks. "It's snowing," she gasps, with a childish giggle. "It's ever so pretty…." She raises her arm to admire the snowflakes fast melting on her sleeve. "Not sticking though," she adds, belated and mournful.

Cadgwith> Nagrath loiters in the bowl, snowflakes melting against his verdigrised bronze hide.

M'nty has been here a bit, good for him, right? Either way, he's seated at a table with a hide in front of him and a mug of steaming wine in one hand. "Snowing." He mutters, glancing up, then realizing who had said that. "Oh- Pyrene. But- is it really snowing?" He asks, eyeing the melting flakes with a mock-mornful look.

"Snowing. Hmmm." C'ley is ensconced, as is his right at his age, in front of the fire, with a large mug of tea. "Well, it's that time of turn. Time for me to start making trips to Ista, that is."

X'ian, who would be typically pitbullish if he wasn't sickly pale and dusted with a fine layer of melting snow, sweeps in after Pyrene, his arms folded across his chest and his collar flipped up around his neck. Tired and glowering, he doesn't look at all happy to be here - particularly with Pyrene giggling like an idiot and M'nty already asking the obvious of her.

Cadgwith> Cadgwith is staring with an intent fascination at the snow as it falls and eddys around her. Her eyes are whirling fast and her hide's brighter than snow-melted wetness can account for. It seems likely that she'll progress to more solid things than snow before long.

C'rud reclines near the hearth, running a comb through his raven hair. "Pyrene! Lovely to see you," he says with a wink. But he still seems more involved with his appearance than anything else.

"It's not /really/ snowing," Pyrene concedes to M'nty. "Just flakes whirling down. The ground's too wet for it to stay, but oh it's nice to see snow again." She casts one last blissful look out at the bowl, not even the vision of X'ian enough to dampen her expression, before she moves further into the room, apparently attracted by the bright dance of the fire. "Oh, and Cadgwith's about to rise," she adds, voice all but trembling with joy.

Cadgwith> Minoyath has his wings spread, attempting to catch as much sun- and snow - as possible on them. He's also lurking nearby Cadgwith. Big surprise there, eh?

Cadgwith> Morchainth is prowling through the snow around the edge of the bowl - lifting his talons high with each step to avoid having them sink into the gathering wet and cold. Of course, this is an action that prompts all three limbs that aren't lifted to linger in the moister for longer than they might have had to otherwise - a fact that escapes his attention. Mostly because it's focused upon Cadgwith.

Cadgwith> All of a sudden, every inch of Cadgwith's craggy hide shudders, and she pulls away from Minoyath and the others, surrounding herself with a thick veil of falling snow - through which her eyes peer, red flecked and vivid with intent.

"Yes, terribly nice. It's not like it really snows often around here or anything." X'ian growls, pausing to smother a rasping cough into his fist as he becomes more acutely aware of the other riders in the vicinity. "I should have gone to Ista."

And just like that, C'ley's pleasant daydreams of tropical sunshine are /ruined/. "Cadgwith? Rising? Now?" he checks, half-rising himself from his comfortable chair to stare at Pyrene.

Cadgwith> Nagrath stirs, life in the old beast yet. Especially when confronted with such a terrifying vision as a proddy Cadgwith. Chase or flee? It's a difficult decision.

"Oh- well… then that makes everything better." He says, being rather ambiguous as to what he's referencing. M'nty stands, tucking the hide into a pocket and heading to put away his mug, passing by X'ian as he does so. "You look cheerful today." M'nty says, irritation evident as he ditches his mug and walks back by, heading towards Pyrene. "You should have headed to Ista. Spare us your ill-humor and your cough. But Pyrene?" He asks as he approaches, "Shouldn't you be- well… not in the caverns if she's going to fly?"

Cadgwith> Filth lumbers i, ignoring the snow and everything else that isn't Cadgwith. The flecks of snow on his brown hide give him a strangely muddy appearance as his draws as close as he dares to the gold.

Pyrene hugs herself, still staring at the fire. "There'll be a new Weyrleader soon," she murmurs, presumably having forgotten that M'nty /is/ still in the room, and that's not the most heartening thing for him to hear right now. She does answer his question, however. "She's not even in the pens yet. I'll be going to the ground weyrs soon-" She whirls around, suddenly looking a lot more alert. "Who's joining me?" The challenge has been laid.

"Don't tempt me." X'ian sneers as M'nty moves past, his shoulders hunched against a chill that's probably fever-related. "You've avoided flight brawls in the past, but I'd like to see you slink your way out of a punch to the back of the head." Arching a brow at Pyrene's next comment, he can't help but smirk slightly.

Cadgwith> Minoyath , in reaction, pulls back as well- tucking his wings to his side and shedding all of the accumulated snow- or rather, slush- off the stretched vanes. With a stretch and a yawn, the fuschia-tinged dragon catches his riders thought, starting to move in the general direction he'll be heading soon, passing by Morchainth on the way to the Pens.

Cadgwith> Cadgwith gradually stands taller and taller, looming over the males scattered around her like so many trinkets. And then, her back and neck arched to their fullest extent, she raises her nose to the clouds and does not so much bellow as shriek. Echoes ring around the bowl, and Cadgwith is in the air on a low sweep into the pens.

Cadgwith> Pens
Cadgwith> Freshened breezes from the lake to the south mingle with the stronger scents of herdbeast, wherry, dust and dung, that fill this elliptical enclosure, a faint odor wafting over now and then from the tannery on the far eastern side of the pens. A sturdy fence winds out towards the central bowl, captures an outlet of clear blue lake, and grows into a stout wind-shelter replete with hay and feeding troughs as it meets the bowl wall. Not too far above, a claw-marked series of feeding ledges lie, decorated by a few discarded and bleached-out bones. A few clusters of green sprout, downtrodden, in the hard ground, tracked over by the stampeding of the herds.

C'rud finally moves his attention to something slightly more interesting. His mouth forms a sultry smile. "About to rise? How could I refuse?"

Cadgwith> Morchainth freezes - dirt-stained slush dripping in thick clods rather uncerimoniously from his own half-spread wingsails as his narrowed eyes shift from dragon the dragon before his shoulders and flanks erupt into action, and rather than fly, he bounds after the others.

"Oh, I'll join you, my dear." C'ley finishes getting out of the chair, though it's unclear whether the creak comes from the chair itself, or maybe C'ley's bones. Or perhaps just his shiny new leathers. "That's an offer that can't be refused, you know…"

Cadgwith> Nagrath is elegant in flight despite his turns, and with practiced skill and no motion wasted, he slaughters a buck and starts to feed, half his attention on the noisy gold.

M'nty snorts at Pyrene. "Thanks. Love you too." M'nty snips, pulling back from her and glancing around the room. "Well- you won't be the only one pleased when I lose, Pyrene. Trust me on that one." He glances at her again and rubs at the back of his neck. "I'll be glad rid of you and the rest of the sorry problems I have to deal with." He backs up a bit more, with a sigh. "I'm joining. Minoyath won't let me not." He says before shrugging at X'ian. "Look- you might not have more honor than that- but at least pretend you do. I'd rather get out of this who thing in one piece."

Cadgwith> Minoyath leaps, startled, when Cadgwith takes to the air and soars to the pens. He catches the air on the way back down and glides in over the fences, landing at the edge of the area and starts to pick and choose. What to kill, what to kill…

Desba strides in from the bowl, pulling off her riding gloves as she enters and tucking them into a hidden pocket inside her jacket. After rebuttoning her jacket she pauses to see who is present. A formal salute go to both M'nty and Pyrene before she settles near the group, prefectly well aware of the happenings but in need of human company and some cooler air than that found on the sands. "Hello. I hope all is well."

Cadgwith> Cadgwith makes a messy landing, pinning down a slow wherry and breaking its neck. The jugular escaped unscathed though, and there's that long pause as she battles with her elsewhere rider, before one black claw rips the dead beast's throat open and her muzzle dips, hissing, into the sweet flowing blood.

"Since when did flights have anything to do with /honor/, you half-wit excuse for a plucked rooster." X'ian growls, his lower jaw jutting and his brows knit. Speaking of that punch to the back of the head, it's looking like he's already having a hard time holding it back. At Desba's entrance, he can't help but relax his expression…In exasperation. "I'm surrounded by idiots. Quite literally."

Pyrene's chin raises high as she accepts their offers with a mocking smile. She doesn't wait any longer though, exiting the caverns at a run, with the inevitable hiss of "Blood!" under her breath as she goes.

M'nty rolls his eyes at X'ian. "Shut up. You're the cause of your own problems. I don't have time to bother with you." And with that, M'nty walks out after Pyrene, knowing full well he's likely to be slammed into by an irritated X'ian even as he does.

Desba grins at X'ian, "Good to see you too." And seeing how he is the only one left, "Good luck, X'ian."

Ground Weyrs
Once a mere overhang in the bowl wall, this arched stone enclave was deepened in aeons past by who-knows-what to provide shelter for injured dragons and their mates. Craggy walls loom high to dwarf rider and dragon alike, sloping back from the weather-open entrance to a low opening into the infirmary itself. Stacked under rock-shaded cover are low supply chests of sturdy timber, flanked with long tables. Other openings are shaded by wherhide curtains, leading to smaller, private caverns for the dragonhealers' patients.

M'nty comes into shelter from bowl's wide open spaces.
X'ian comes into shelter from bowl's wide open spaces.

Cadgwith> Nagrath drains his beast easily, and takes to the air again, blood dripping vampirically from his handsome jaws.

Cadgwith> Morchainth isn't half as particular about choosing a beast as some of the competition, snapping at a hind leg of a beast that happens to be one of many attempting to stampede out of the way of the dragon brigade and twisting it back to him with force enough to tear it right out of the poor animal's hip. Flipping it up and around rather like an immense bird of prey, he gives it a good shake or two to snap the spine before allowing it to plop back to the ground, where he can suck out what he needs.

Cadgwith> Minoyath finally makes a choice on which of those delectable herdbeast are going to bite the dust today. Hrms. With another launch and glide to conserve energy he takes one out and finishes it as quickly as he can- he doesn't want to be caught flat-footed this time… not like last time. Learning from his mistakes he is.

C'ley stumbles into the ground weyrs, brushing off snowflakes.

Cadgwith> Cadgwith is on her third wherry now, a huge buck with what seems to be an inexhaustible supply of blood. Yet at last, the flow ebbs away, and Cadgwith's blood-spattered muzzle raises baring her teeth at her suitors this time. But it's with unexpected grace that she does make her leap, straining for the source of the snow which muffles the beats of her vast wings.

Cadgwith> Above High Reaches
Cadgwith> Quite, quite high, nothing braves these heights but stone and dragon and cloud; the Star Stones jut dutifully above the Weyr proper, flayed by the mountain winds that are consistant at this altitude whilst the rest spreads below, protected by its crown of jagged stone spires'-teeth.

Pyrene has been standing at the back of the chamber, watching the other riders enter with a lascivious smile, but as Cadgwith takes to the skies, her head snaps upwards as if she can see through the stone. "It begins," she gasps exultantly.

Cadgwith> Minoyath doesn't get caught on the ground this time, launching as soon after Cadgwith as he can. With slow beats he picks up speed, his frame not made for those quick ascents. As he flies higher, his goal is more and more difficult to keep in sight. The snow is… causing problems.

"So I noticed," C'ley remarks, having caught his breath. He sidles geriatrically towards Pyrene, with an old man's leer.

Cadgwith> Morchainth throws himself up into the air - the wind and snow that immediately tears about him quickly flinging whatever cruddy, bloody slush that hadn't already dripped off back to the ground below as his wings plunge up and forward - yanking his slender build up after the queen as individual snowflakes continue to leave dark specks of moisture across his dusky hide.

M'nty enters as if on a string, which only shows how much power his dragon and the others have over him. He stops, stock-still, as he enters, taking in sight of Pyrene. "So it does." He responds, glancing back over his shoulder to watch his back. Stupid he may be… but still.

X'ian shakes himself. Cold. Miserable. Wet. M'nty. Pyrene. Clearly, this is not the best day he's ever had. Not in recent history, anyway. All the same, his glare is intense and focused - not necessarily on Pyrene, but focused all the same. And it's probably a good thing that M'nty is watching his back, because X'ian fills that particular spot within a matter of seconds.

Cadgwith> Cadgwith's intent to gain height is thwarted by her delight in sharing airspace with the snow. She slows down before she intended, banking sharply left and right in a figure-eight that prevents snow from building up on her back and wings - for it's far colder up here. But she dances with it, thrilling joyfully, until she notices almost too late that her chasers are upon her. Evasive action is immediate, and she dives away, pulling out moments and some distance later to power upwards again. A cry, made thin by the wind, mocks her pursuers.

Cadgwith> Nagrath is slow to leap into flight, although once he's up and away, his wings beat strongly and he starts to catch up at least to the brown dragons that are chasing that ugly but oh-so-alluring creature.

Pyrene prefers to keep her back against the wall so nobody can sneak up on her during flights. She's doing that now, leaning forward slightly and with a faint smile on her face. Something in her seems to recognise X'ian and it's him she smirks at as she suddenly straightens up onto tiptoes, urging her dragon on in every fibre.

Cadgwith> Morchainth is more gifted in the ways of sleek speed than he is graceful manuevering - but for now, his smooth musculiniature is knotted and rough - straining against the wind and the cold to keep up as his wings continue to power him forward - the air currents too irregular for him to trust.

Cadgwith> Minoyath is finally on a roll- literally. To keep the snow from building up on his own body, he snaps into a precise barrel roll, straightening out as close as he can get in the snow to other dragons. Broad wings crackle every few moments with a thing layer of ice as Minoyath's body heat melts flakes on contact. That Cadgwith was taking her time allows Mino to take the advantage, a cry ripping from his own throat- which is probably a bad idea in hindsight.

At the shadow of X'ian on his back, M'nty turns and steps forwards, into the ground weyrs with as much confidence as he can. Pyrene is his focus now, especially since he's something to prove. He stops square in front of her, low noises coming from his throat, eyes narrowed.

X'ian returns Pyrene's smirk without much enthusiasm, his shoulders stiff as he struggles to fight off images already pressing inconveniently into the back of his mind as he leans forward towards M'nty, lowering his voice into a growling hiss. "Look at that…In light of you catching again, she's actually looking at /me/. You must be pretty damn pathetic in bed, boy."

C'ley laughs loudly at X'ian's insult, crowding further forward. He's calmer perhaps than the younger men, though no less intense as he clenches his fists and leers boldly at Pyrene. "I bet she's a fine one though."

Cadgwith> Cadgwith hears Minoyath and banks away, her flight path running almost parallel - but not quite - with the weyr wall. She doesn't collide with it, but her hindlegs stab out along it to ensure she keeps her distance - sending flakes of ice, grit and snow down below. Then as her belly grows dangerously close to the rock, her wings fold as her toes grip stone for a moment and then all the power in her haunches flings her out towards the centre of the bowl again - passing almost inadvertently through Morchainth's flight-path, if at a higher level.

Cadgwith> Nagrath swoops along well below Cadgwith's level, circling steeply upwards as he strives, heart pounding, blood racing, to charge after the gold. A long, low noise - almost a moan - escapes him as Cadgwith performs her worrying acrobatics, but he's swift enough to bank in the opposite direction and head for her.

Cadgwith> Minoyath snarls as Cadge eludes him. He is not going to let things go this time. He's lost too often. With his own massive effort, he follows her, his agility slowing him down so that he has to work to catch up. But he is focused. Another violent snap of his wings to clear the ice and the dragon strains.

A sick looking rider with hair that is dirty looking enters. He coughs and makes a beeline over towards the lovely lady.Cough cough."I'm Here Darlin'!"

Cadgwith> Morchainth twists up after her, an effort that squeezes a thick cloud of foggy breath out from between his jaws as his slender tail cracks up after him - ignorant of the other chasers for the time being. The nearness of her is far, far too distracting.

Cadgwith> Logan follows a diseased looking bronze up into the skies and tries to bother his eyes to get him away from the gold. Diseaseth pumps his wings ahd rumbles a a very congested rumble pumping his wings desperately trying to get to the queen.

Pyrene's eyes grow wide, whites clearly visible as she experiences Cadgwith's manoeuvres. But she also experiences the exultation of her success, and she crows piercingly as Cadgwith sails out into the middle of the Bowl again. Laughing, she sidles along her wall, eyes flickering to C'ley more than anybody else. She'd not mind somebody with experience for a change.

M'nty turns and squares up against X'ian, refraining from touching him, but staying close all the same. "Let's find out." He says in the same low voice. "Then you can vouch one way or the other." He pauses, turning deliberately from X'ian as his dragons predetory focus bleeds into his own. "I've learned more than enough since our last… encounter."

"Come on. This isn't helping." C'ley attempts to put an arm in between X'ian and M'nty, but it wavers and either of them could probably flatten the aging rider if they tried. Or if he tried. "Oh shells…" he adds in a moan as Nagrath grabs hold of his consciousness, and his bloodshot eyes fix on Pyrene again.

S'ick pushes his way through the other riders, and goes so close to Pyrene she can smell him."Hi Darlin' You ready for your handfastin'?" Wherever did he get that idea… He's mentally deranged, and he thinks he can handfast any queenrider he wants."We'll move you t'my weyr, an'chain ya t'my bed, an'breed beautiful babbies…"

Cadgwith> Cadgwith swoops high again, luring them upwards and out of the sheltered embrace of the Weyr's walls. As they go, the air currents become more treacherous and the familiar thermals struggle against the snow's onslaught. Cadgwith is vocalising, a ship's foghorn to guide them on, yet as the snow sweeps and gusts around her, furtive glances downwards are noticeable. A savvy dragon will guess that she's preparing for another unexpected course change.

X'ian's teeth grind - his entire expression wincing against Pyrene's laughter. And then, of course, M'nty has to go and say something that sounds far too much like asking for a one-night-stand in X'ian's frustrated, flight fogged brain. The instant C'ley's arm juts into the mix, he takes a swing - not at M'nty's head, but kept in low and close under C'ley's interference, at M'nty's diaphragm. Endearingly enough, he's watching Pyrene over M'nty's shoulder as he does it.

Pyrene stops her advance towards C'ley as he entangles himself in M'nty and X'ian. S'ick's approach makes her pull away in revulsion, and she slides back from all of them, until she hits a corner. Her back arches, and her hands claw briefly at the walls, head raised and eyes staring.

Cadgwith> Nagrath's narrow wings are buffetted fiercely by the wings, but he's not giving up. Definitely not. Up and up he follows, tangled in snowflakes and lust, and calling back to Cadgwith with all the antiquated and long-denied lust that any bronze could manage.

Cadgwith> Logan chirples and gets out of the way as Diseaseth reaches his neck out and his arms out towards the lovely Cadgwith, Oh yes all his while the riders pay attention to themselves… He coughcroons wildly trying to get to the lovely gold… « My dear You have no choice, twine necks with me… »

Cadgwith> Morchainth remains low - keeping to air currents he's familiar with, even if it means being a little furthur away than the others - his own roar dispersed too quickly by the wind to be overly threatening.

Cadgwith> Minoyath follows the sound - and his nose - upwards. But the air is too turbulant up there, according to him- so instead he uses that information to use his jack-knifing trick. He bends his spine at at a near impossible angle and goes up- closer. His talons out and waiting. She will come to him- he's bound and determined, and any other dragon who gets in his way is going to bleed.

Cadgwith> Logan follows Diseaseth at a distance now…the tiny bronze sees a gold lizard that suits his fancy… Diseaseth coughrumbles, and pumps his wings, ignoring the snow swirling around him, but hey it almost makes him look healthy…He roars at the other males telling them to get out of his way so he can claim the prize.

Cadgwith> As the others anticipate her, Cadgwith makes her own move. Her tail is pulled up and away from Nagrath's grasp, and she banks to one side, coming down tantalisingly close to Diseaseth yet just out of reach. Conversely, Morchainth never has a chance to get his hopes up as she comes down on the opposite side of her suitors from him. However, perhaps that was snow in her eyes, or perhaps an unexpected gust threw her trajectory off - for it's Minoyath's talons that she does not escape; Minoyath's body who she finds her own tangled with.

M'nty was and wasn't ready for the punch. Which just means that M'nty catches it a little harder than he normally word. Wind goes out, but the look in his eye is still there. He gasps, then takes a wild swing- not expecting to hit anything as he turns as he's swinging. Backing up, he hits the wall, grining like an idiot. "I win."

A snowcovered rider enters and grabs S'ick. He's a larger man, and smiles at S'ick. "C'mon love, time for your medicine…

"You stupid…" C'ley takes a swing towards X'ian, completely misses, stops, takes a few steps back and growls. "Sharding…" And he leaves before anything else at all can happen. Sensible man.

Cadgwith> Nagrath shrills a note of despair, and sinks down through the fierce winds towards the bowl. Another chance missed.

Pyrene's gasp is no quieter than M'nty's and she seems just as winded as she staggers to the wide cot against the near wall. She collapses on it, making little mewling sounds that are half sobs, half groans of need.

Cadgwith> Logan looks up only to see a blue almost the size of Diseaseth, force the bronze down to the ground. « Time to go back to our weyr love… »

Even in flight-mode, anyone who's had their nose broken more than once eventually learns to duck. Such is the case with X'ian, who spits after M'nty before turning to straighten his jacket, and striding out into the cold - his teeth still grinding against what he can hear.
X'ian leaves healers' enclave for the central bowl.

Cadgwith> Minoyath takes all that Cadgwith can give him, entwining with her and keeping them airborne. This one is his. Snow coats the two of them as the other dragons head for the ground.

M'nty grins one last time at X'ian's retreating form, then turns towards Pyrene making soothing noises. He's not going to be pleased when he regains himself, but for now the time is for Pyrene and all for Pyrene. He'll see if she doesn't appreciate him after this.

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