The weyrling dragons chase a feline

April 13th 2002
Logged by Fyria

Weyrling Barracks
The large entryway opens into two immense U-shaped caverns stretching deep into the cliff side. Glow baskets lining the cavern walls cast a soft light, dispelling the shadows and illuminating the home of all High Reaches weyrlings. Stone couches of various sizes line the many walkways of well-packed dirt and stone.
Along the walls nearest the entrance, shelves and pegs hold the leathers, books and tools needed when teaching and practicing, and towards the back, a large pool for the dragonets and weyrlings and several large containers kept full of fresh meat serve as conveniences for the busy residents of these barracks.
Snuggled in with the leather supplies and tools are eleven firelizards.
Blue Tsulryth, blue Urzketh, blue Vorkoroth, brown Sidramuntalath, blue Diulnyth, green Pixareth, and green Zhesteth are here.
You see Weyrling Progress Record, Dragon Wing, Taesha, and Star Studded Sky here.
Zia, Sage, Sii'kyn, Lhana, and Wyn are here.

Lhana awakens quickly at Zhesteth's incessant, sneeze-inducing mental prodding, and picks her way amongst the sleeping and inanimate alike to the cold room, from whence sounds her daily chorus of "Ew-ew-ew-ew-/ewwwwwwwwwwwww/!!" as she gets a bowl of the raw meat for poor, hungry Zhesteth. Said green is waiting -most- impatiently, and is only too grateful to receive the bloody fruits of her lifemates gorey efforts. Raw meat. Mmmmmmmmm.

<Local> Urzketh senses that Vorkoroth replies to Pixareth in silver streaks, « I'll stop being a baby if you'll stop scaring my quarry. » Huff.

"Urk…slow /down/…" Fyria sighs as the blue tries to engulf the meat as quickly as he does everything else, i.e. fast. "IF you eat fast, you could get, um, stuck. THen, we'd have to purge you, and I doubt everyone here," and she waves her hand to encompass the barracks, " would /not/ appreciate it, you, nor me." The blue quiets and slows, flips one set of eyelids shut and opens them quickly, then asks for more. "Now. /SLowly/."

<Local> Urzketh senses that Zhesteth beams, sparkling with glittery, syrupy brightness, a little wind-chimey scale sounding her pleasure as she speaks. « Oh, thank you! I just…um…woke up. But I got it oiled before that! And I /have/ been spending a lot of time in the sun. » She sighs happily, infusing pink amongst her other neon yellowishness. « Don't you just -love- sunning? I think it's /fantabulous/. And the beach is simply /divine/ this time of year! » As if she has any other time of year to compare it to. Vorkoroth's words dampen her mindvoice a tad, bringing down some of the colors to less blinding levels. « Vorkoroth, Pixareth - be nice! »

Sage, still with hands on hips and still frowning, sighs. "Look what you did…got us up early for /nothing/. No one can play when they're still doing what we've already /done/." She ruffles imaginary hair on her pixie, "I know, I know, you're right. I was already awake…but I could've just laid- what?!" She frowns at Pixareth, then looks around and shrugs, "Well….okaaaay…but only since every one else is doing the same stuff." She waggles a teasing finger at her, then retrieves bottle and rag. "You are obsessed with these things…" This is muttered as she bends toward her talons, and begins to polish them, "Okay! Sorry…" She winks and goes verrrry slowly after some little reprimand.

<Local> Urzketh senses that he is much enamoured by being fed at the moment, only on occasion does he lean his amethyst-peppered thoughts towards the others. « Breakfast is the most important meal, so Fyrrrrria tells me. » The scent of nutmeg rolls across the links as he considers Zhestheth's comments. « Sunning is good, but swimming is better. Particularly for the fish, which are not-that-big. » Fish. Hmm. Almost as interesting as trundlebugs.

Wyn arises. Softly, slowly pushing away the waves of sleep that had overtaken her, she pokes her head out of her couch, swiping her hair out of her face with one hand and automatically glancing about to locate a certain pocketsized blue. "Trundlebugs again?" she inquires aloud of him, slightly amused, before shuffling off to track down some klah.

Vorkoroth snakes his tail out after Wyn, but of course it isn't long enough to follow her. So instead he watches his lifemate closely, as all his (imaginary) quarry has dispersed.

<Local> Urzketh senses that Pixareth does a little 'uhh!' sound, « Like, what-/ever/, Vorkoroth! You couldn't get quarry if you…like tried reaally, really hard! » Not that she knows what quarry is, anyway. She then seems to turn back to Zhesteth, giving more bright pink with a swirl, « Really? You look, like, totally great. » Griiiin. Flip of headknobs and she mentally clicks her talons, « So what do you think? » She seems to agree on sunning, and swimming, but she hmms, « Like…these fish things…like…where are their legs? »

Kihaelth comes out of Kihaelth's couch.
Tevya comes out of Kihaelth's couch.

<Local> Urzketh senses that he turns his full attention upon Pixareth with an onrush of shimmery vocalness, as if he'd never seen her before. « Fish, and legs? » Suddenly, brightness ensues along with a twinkling of mental laughter. « Fish do /not/ have legs, Pixareth. They have…. » He withdraws a moment, returning with a smug « …fins. Yes. Fins. » He knew that. Really. Didn't just ask his lifemate.

<Local> Urzketh senses that Vorkoroth's voice draws up haughtily in reply to Pixareth. « I will have you know that I have already captured numerous trundlebugs. » A grey pause, « And Urzketh is correct. Fish do not have legs. »

Wyn returns with her mug of klah, and a fond gaze for the snaking tail. She promptly settles down beside Vorkoroth, sipping one-handed from it as she moves one hand up to offer scritches along his jawline.

<Local> Urzketh senses that Zhesteth beams, sending an infusion of neons and sherberty-syrups Pixareth's way. « /Thank/ you! And your talons look simply /splendid/. » Mind beam. Then she is all afizz with perplexity toward Vorkoroth. « Why do you want to catch trundlebugs? I mean, they were pretty at first, but now they're just kind of…well, they certainly aren't as pretty as /fish/. » The silver-shimmery hide of a fish dances across her thoughts. « I want one of those. And the other day, I tried to catch one with Urzketh, but he couldn't get it, and then Alymath told us that in Ista they get /this/ /big/. » A zeppelin-sized fish appears for the others to see. « And I want one of those, but I don't know how to get to Ista, but Lhana says that it's very far away, and I wonder how far away really far away is because she says it's even farther away than the /meadows/. She said it's over the edge of the weyr - waaaaaaay over the edge of the weyr. I've never been that far away, but it sounds /really/ /far/. » She attempts to puzzle it out for a moment, giving the others a little break to catch their collective breaths. « I hope we get to go there. But it's /so/ /far/. » A wistful mind-sigh.

<Local> Urzketh senses that Vorkoroth relaxes somewhat. « Trundlebugs are a /challenge/. I would chase fish as well if they were to be found in this space. I will catch fish later. »

<Local> Urzketh senses that he radiates satisfaction, tummy having been filled quite nicely. With a yawn, he turns and lounges on the floor, stretching one wing and peering at it with roiling curiosity. Spices scent his thoughts again. « My wings are getting large. Much larger than before, yes? » He is v. impressed.

<Local> Urzketh senses that Pixareth metally leans back on a foreleg, crossing her bottom two with a flourish. But her mind colors gradually turn completely blue, « Fiiiinns….? » She hmmms, « Like…what do they do? » Admiration slightly leaks into her tone for Urzketh, and then even for Vorkoroth. « Are fish, like, good? My Sage does not eat them. » She ooos appreciatively at the big fish picture, and then wonder at Ista. She suddenly slips those headknobs- a trademark!- and sighs at Zhesteth, « We won't /fly/ there…we'll, like, /totally/ between. » Yes, she /is/ the Smart One. Ahem. Purple whirls over to Urzketh, « Your wings are like sooo much bigger than mine. » But something in her tone suggests /hers/ are prettier.

Fyria drops the bowl in with the other dirty dishes and washes her hand before returning to drop into a chair, sighing softly. "Need any oiling dear?" Urzketh rumbles an affirmative no in her direction, causing Fyria to lift a brow. "If you say so…I'm not going anywhere, I think." Urzketh instead continues to examine his wing, then leans to glance at Pixareth's tinier form. Hmm.

<Local> Urzketh senses that he oozes interest towards Pixareth, a gentle spray of midsummer's night indigo washing towards her. « You're wings are smaller, and mine are bigger. Fyrrrrrrria tells me I will fly fast when I am older. » Urzketh hopes so. He /is/ the fastest, after all. Not that he's tested this fact. « The fish are pretty, fun, and slippery. I would've caught them if not for their slipperiness. » Of course.

Lhana handles the raw meat gingerly, despite having to do this every day - and a few times per day, sometimes. Zhesteth devours the food slowly, with relish, as her mind is also occupied elsewhere. Finally, she turns her facetted eyes on her rider to inform her that she's finished, and Lhana, sighing with immense relief, returns the bowl to the coldroom and washes her hands with vigour. "I am going to be /soooooo/ glad when you can hunt your own food," she observes, as she undoubtedly does every day. Zhesteth just flicks her wings expressively, pulling them in and then quickly unfurling them again to add emphasis to some point or other which she appears to be expressing to her rider. "What? - Oh. Yes, dear. Well…no dear, not right now. Well I - I mean, can't we just…oh. Well, that's good." Ah, fragmented conversations. Aren't they just great?

Sage continues to slowly polish Pixareth's talons, looking up at her lifemate for a moment as she hears some of her thoughts- just a few. Pixie forgets to filter them to only dragons sometimes. She hears the conversations about fish, and seems to /actually/ keep her voice down to only Pixareth for once. But after a moment, she looks to the other clutchmates and smiles slightly…almost dreamily. She then blinks as Pixareth realizes she's stopped polishing for a moment. "Oh, well I was just- well then you do- oh alright." She sighs slightly, moving onto the next foot. "I hope you don't get too big…I already get tired of oiling and polishing you!" She grins at Pixie gives a dainty snort, but then the dragon's attention turns to Urzketh's wings in a bit of admiration, but she rears slightly and slowly for a moment, only to plop right back down with a swift slip of her headknobs back a bit. Sage stares for a moment, then goes back to polishing. Look how fun us humans are. Cough.

<Local> Urzketh senses that Zhesteth mind-blinks, creating a lemon-sorbet-soda-swirl of effervescent, chiming thought. « Your wings are bigger than mine, too, Urzketh. Actually, you're bigger than me all around. Actually, everyone's bigger than me except Pixareth! » Interesting. « I wonder why. Do you suppose we aren't eating enough? Maybe because our eggs were smaller. » No? « Lhana says it's because we're green, and nobody else is. But that doesn't make sense. » Oh, now she's all confuzzled.

<Local> Urzketh senses that he dances an amused tango of white, pale silver, and streaked violet toward Zhesteth. Care to dance? « Yours is right. Fyrrrrria says the same, that because you are green, you will be smaller. She says I will be smaller than Sidramuntalath and Roherith, but I do not mind. I will be faster. » Again, the hint of royal indigo appears, smugly. Ohhh…is that a flash of pink near Lhana? He thinks he sees something, but doesn't say, or think, anything - all is hidden behind a smoky haze.

Sii'kyn is slowly pulled from the time-warping vortex of Ram's Event Horizon.

<Local> Urzketh senses that Pixareth seems to flaunt knowledge for a moment, « Fish are, like, ugly, bug-eyed, and slimy. And Saaaaage says they're, like, yucky. » She then grins in a dragonlike way, giving a bit of a challenge, « I will be faster because I am green. Just like Zhesteth. » Sage said that makes her fast, really she did. She then turns interested pink swirls on Zhesteth, « Like, Zhesteth…you are like, /totally/ right. Why are we, like…small? » But she asks Urzketh cus he's so smart. Blue fills her mind, and she waits until finally… « Like, why? » Be glad a gold isn't here, otherwise she wouldn't get why are girls are smaller. « Is it because we're, like, soooo cute? » Headknob flip and flutter.

<Local> Urzketh senses that Zhesteth still doesn't understand, unfortunately. « Why will -you- be faster, and not me? Is it because you're blue? » She just doesn't quite understand this whole connection between color and physical characteristics. And then, hearing Sage, her confusion increases. « Oh. So /green/ is faster, and not blue? Or are they both the fastest? » Somehow. Poor Zhesteth is sooooooo confuzzled. Someone save her from this confuzzlation. « And we /are/ cute. » This is a fact. « Perhaps greens never get bigger because they have to be cute? » Sounds plausible.

<Local> Urzketh senses that he is confuzzled himself now, partially due to the colorific ramblings of the greens. « Okay. Fyrrrrrria has explained it to me, and I'll explain it to you. Ready? » A mental heave as he takes a breath, and then: « Greensaresmallerthanbluesaresmallerthanbrownsaresmallerthanbronzearesmallerthangold. » There. « And that is why you are small. Because you are greens. » Nuff said.

<Local> Urzketh senses that Sidramuntalath is dizzy. And expresses it adroitly, with a curly-cue of smoke, wobbling about an unsteady base. Gotta love those wisps of smoke that can express so much, without a single word. Dizzy. Wobbly. The smoke thuds a few times, before rising, and wafting off. « That was one sharding long sentance, » he idly comments.

<Local> Urzketh senses that Vorkoroth is vaguely impressed at Urzketh's knowledge and expresses it with peaceable blue tones. « Sharding long indeed… But accurate. »

<Local> Urzketh senses that Zhesteth once again performs her estimation of a blink, before concluding, « So it's because we're cute. » Sounds good. Moooooooving on…wait. Ram has her once again confused. « Sharding? » These swear words…they always get her all befuddled. « Where? On the sentence? » She certainly didn't see any. « I don't understand. »

<Local> Urzketh senses that Pixareth is the Smart One, remember, so while her blue is still prominent in confusion, purple edges it as she turns towards Zhesteth. « Exactly, greens are the cutest and most adorable…so like, we stay small. » She then blinks at Urzketh, « So greens are fastest, then. » They just have the endurance of Zhesteth's attention span. The Smart One continues, « My Sage says greens are fastest and that is why, like, blues and browns totally want to, like, chase us. Right boys? » She turns to Ram and Urk and Vor, then blue tinges the edges of her thoughts, « Sage is afraid of when you will, like, chase greens. Or, like, me. » More blue and she then seems to blush, « I wasn't spose to say that… »

<Local> Urzketh senses that Sidramuntalath broadens his mindlink, allowing a new, deep, bloody crimson to seep out through it. « Sharding. It is a word one uses to… add emphasis. » Apparently, he's gone through explaining cuss words. She's unhelpable, she is. « My pretty, we wouldn't think about catching you. » Smoke curls, oddly reassuringly, about Pixareth's mindsense. « /I/ wouldn't, at least. » And no, he isn't an overgrown trundlebug with wings, either. Cut it out. « Greens are small, because greens are small, » is sensably finished up. « There wouldn't be any other way. »

<Local> Urzketh senses that he is smoothly satisfied with his answer, though a taste of cayenne interlaces his thoughts. « I will not chase you. Why would I do such a thing? I could easily catch you besides. » A flare of bright sapphire ensues as he concurs with Sidramuntalath. « Greens are small because they are small. That is not a bad thing. It just is. » Khol intertwines as Urzketh ponders the appearance of a feline. « Fur-covered creature. »

<Local> Urzketh senses that Zhesteth, speaking of her attention span, seems to consider the topic of size to be concluded bordering on tiresome, and is now moving on. « Greens are fastest. And when I get older, /all/ the boys are going to chase me. But they won't catch me, because I'm green and the fastest. » Right? « Or..wait. No, one of them will. I don't know much about it, but Lhana says not to worry and she's not worrying, so I'm not going to either. » Things just work better that way, it seems. « And I don't understand why people » - and some dragons, apparently - « throw these extra words in their sentences. I get confused. » But ah well. « You can't catch /me/, Urzketh! My legs are longer than yours! » Apparently, the thought of catching in /flight/ hasn't crossed her mind just yet. « And I'm not fur-covered, but Lhana's canine is, and he is very strange. He likes to just run around and run around, but when I try to play with him, sometimes he gets scared. Lhana says it's because I'm bigger than him. » So see? She's not so small, after all.

<Local> Urzketh senses that Vorkoroth replies cooly. « I prefer to chase trundlebugs. And, perhaps, fish. » A swirling grey pause, « To be small is not a bad thing. Small size lends speed and agility. » And a Napoleon complex.

A small feline enters into the barracks, tail lifted high in the air as he pauses with one delicate paw in the air. Oh look. Huge annoying winged creatures, and humans too. A wrinkle of his whiskered nose, and he takes another step in.

<Local> Urzketh senses that Sidramuntalath is actually prone to agree with Urk, this round about. « I have a feeling that she will see many blues, a rare brown, and perhaps… no. Blues. » Crimson stains the cool shadow of metalic stone, puddling - though, oddly enough, still showing through the apparent reflective light of the stars - and the omnipresent overshadow of ash. « Felines? I see no difference with them and those canines, though they are smaller than runners… or so Ike tells me. » Ram, himself, has a bit of a Freudian complex, himself. The bigger, the better. Greens are to played with, the more intelligent to discuss certain matters with. Golds will be his thing, no doubt. « To be small is not necessarily a bad thing, » is amiably agreed, patience showing. « Though I, prefer, myself - to be more tipped on the scale of mass, and much more proportioned than speedy. What is speed, if one can't have endurance? » There's his logic.

<Local> Urzketh senses that Pixareth goes completely blue, with a little dark blue, « Why would you not catch me? » Forget that the object was to run away…errr…fly away. Confusion sets in, and she is like…waaay confused. « But Sage said boys will chase me? Aren't you /boys/? » Forget that they may not like her, they must not be boys. « I thought only greens and golds were girls…but maybe, you're, like, painted? » Tentatively, she scrapes at her hide with a tiny talons, but nothing comes off. « Yes, I am a green. Boys will, like, chase me. » She nods toward Zhesteth, then sheepishly, « Will all the boys chase me, too? » Not so much Valley Girl Napoleon at the moment as a certain sweetness takes over. Tiny bells are in her mindvoice, which suddenly has turned very childlike. Ram's comments only further to cower her into her childlike state, and she seems to plop back on her small, dragon rear. « Because…you're if you're fast, you're small, and if you're small, you're cute…? »

<Local> Urzketh senses that he leans forward with his muzzle towards the calico'd feline, sniffing at it curiously. « Fur. And small. A new toy? » He decides with a sudden rollover of dark indigo to bright periwinkle that everyone else is, like, soooo wrong. « Blues have speed, and what Fyrrrrria calls stamina. We are just right. » Urzketh turns to stare at Zhesketh and Pixareth with a mental blink, and sends a thought out to the other /males/ in the room. « If I ever wish to chase, please strap me to my couch. Or a very heavy rock. » Yes.

<Local> Urzketh senses that Vorkoroth peers at the feline briefly, then follows its movements carefully out of the corner of his eye. « Intriguing specimen. » His tone swirls into silver. « I am blue. I am male. » As if there was any doubt. « But there is more interest in chasing other things. This furry creature, for example. »

<Local> Urzketh senses that Sidramuntalath is for a loss of words - and not intentionally, as he is most typically. These vague, talkative moments of patience and quipped statements blurs in the shades of a volcano, before a tentative ice-strand of the quicksilver lining reaches out to curl around Pixareth. She is Chosen. The brown decides, right then and there, to /never/ let /anyone/ harm this… well, the words that pop into his mind is 'innocent little darling'. And she Hatched before he did. How.. weird. « Sounds good to me, » is softly rumbled, thoughtfulness roiling about his words like waves, hazes of the omnipresent ash and smoke. « I will tie your wings together, » is offered at Urk, the delight of sulpher binding his words.

The feline continues on his way, full out ignoring the blue dragons and the greens. After all, he /is/ weyrbred, and dragons are another endless annoyance to him. Decidedly, he heads towards Vorkoroth's couch, perhaps hoping to claim it for his own.

<Local> Urzketh senses that Zhesteth /sniffs/ at Ram, sending out a little cloud of chartruese to mingle with the other colors in the rainbow of her mind. « Because being little makes you /agile/. So my Lhana tells me. And we're cuter. » Nodnod. But then she sort of sniffles and whines, chiming cutely. « Don't you guys liiiiiiiiiiike me? » Sniffle, sniffle. « Pixareth, I think they're being meeeeeeeean. » Which is, of course, I major sin. Ram's sudden admiration of Pixareth is noted, somewhere, and promptly taken as confirmation. « The boys don't liiiiiiike us! » Waily-whine thus finished, she caps it off with a little mind-cry - like the chimey sound of rain (or tears) falling onto some melodious pond. Pity her. Someone.
Griffin snugs Fyria! Fyria snugs you back with a grin before Urzketh sweeps you both off your feet, taking you on a whirlwind, blue-drenched ride. « Faster! Higher! KaBlue! »

Vorkoroth follows the feline with his eye for a bit, until the creature makes for his couch, at which point the blue seats himself firmly in the furry thing's path. Muzzle is lowered, and he whuffles curiosly at the feline.

<Local> Urzketh senses that Pixareth stares at this furry thing, and seems to have a faint redness enter her mind, « We are better than felines. » But against her nature to be angry, she recedes back into blue once she's said it. Urk wants his wings tiiiied together? Of course, not knowing that someone, namely Ram, decided to be nice, she begins to sniff just about the same time as Zhesteth. Sniiiiif. « Don't you like meeeeeee? » This is after Zhesteth's words, and she she mentally nuzzles closer to her green sister. Tiny whispers fill her mindvoice, ones of slight moans, softly. Nothing /tootoo/ serious, but you get the idea. « They don't liiike us!! Ohhhh! This is terrible! We must /not/ be cuuuute! » Tiny chimes take on the sound of tiny tears, and Pixie seems to flop down into a mental heap next to Zhesteth, « Sage will be so ashamed when no boys chassssse usssss! » Her tone streaks with a sudden green…a fright color in her mind, oddly enough.

<Local> Urzketh senses that he drags his attention towards this creature that is heading towards Vorkoroth's couch, glad that it's not /his/. With a brackish bit of oh-please sent towards the greens, he finally lightens his mental tone with a soft feather-caress of midnight. « I like you. But you are my wingmates. Fyrrrrrria says I may chase you, even if I do not wish to, so.. » Colours hiccup as a mental shrug before he continues. The crying only earns them a breath of cool arctic breeze from Urzketh's soulful depths. « I refrain from commenting, my greens. »

<Local> Urzketh senses that Sidramuntalath is confused, ashamed, and astonished - all at the same time. So, he does what Tyr didn't have the balls to tell Beka. « I'm sorry.. I'm so sorry.. » Angel-wings white hesitantly wraps the two in comfort. « Please don't.. do that.. crying thing.. You're special… You're wonderful.. Both of you. » Wow. /Wow/. He'll deny he said it, but what's said is said, regardless. The brown's mental sense bows his head. Shame veritably /flows/ around him. He's an utter disaster. He doesn't deserve them. Here comes one of those mental breakdown things that were skirted about. He crawls into the proverbial corner to nurse his wounds and have much self-anger. « So sorry, » is forlornly said.

The feline finds an obstacle in his path, and stares at the dragon. Stare. Ever win a stare fight with a feline? Didn't think so. Stare. Nary a whisker twitch gives away his thoughts. Stare.

<Local> Urzketh senses that Sidramuntalath continues twining his shameful thoughts together.. until the feline is noted, gazed at, and mentally dissected. Possible peace offering. Hope twines towards the two green darlings; along with the brushes of lightness, an image of the feline is flashed. « Shall I kill it for you? »

<Local> Urzketh senses that Vorkoroth distracts himself briefly from the feline to reply to the greens. « We do /not/ dislike you, » is uttered with firm silver shimmers. « You are loved, if not always… appreciated. But you are loved. And there /are/ other males in the weyr. »

Vorkoroth stares back at the feline, his tail slowly snaking around his side. Hmm.

<Local> Urzketh senses that he, in all his youthfullness, sends a soothing touch towards the two. « One day you will be like the lovely effervescent Issryuith, who dances upon the wind as light as the breeze. » Colours blend together in a happy ogle of blue-goo. « If you are like her then perhaps I shall chase….Ram? Kill the fur creature? » A mental pause. « Not if I get it first! » En guarde, Tyr-ant of the Barracks!

Feline stares back…but then gets a tail-twitch. Something fishy - or draconic - is going on. Yet still, he doesn't break his locked gaze with Vorkoroth. He's not a stupid feline though, and slowly begins to circle around the blue so that he can face the others. He feels…slightly outnumbered. Hiss.

Sidramuntalath slinks off his couch, heading towards the feline with a predatory prowl, the slink of a practiced hunter - very practiced. Now, who's been up nights practicing his walk? It's obvious. He hunts the feline, however, gleam in his eye expressing everything. C'mere, kitty, kitty, kitty..

<Local> Urzketh senses that Vorkoroth sends out a challenging silver tinge to Urzketh and Sidramuntalath. « If you must kill it, allow me to investigate it first. » A softening to the colors, « Please. »

<Local> Urzketh senses that Zhesteth feels a /bit/ better, as her rainy colors brighten up a tad. « You do? » Brighten, brighten. And then - « We /are/? » And we're back to blazing neon. With an extra little sniffle, too, as she mind-noses her one sister, huddling over next to her too. It's not /all/ better, after all. Though it will be soon. « Well…I feel better. » Okay - very, very soon. « Are you going to kill the fur-thing? » This said with a great measure of surprise, sending little bubbles of light blue soaring through her thoughts. « Why? It didn't do anything. Killing it would be Not Nice. » And we must -never- be Not Nice.

Urzketh is one step ahead of Sidramuntalath, tail lashing behind him (and narrowly missing an oil-filled bucket) as he creeps upon the ground, low. Eyes whirl with a tint of reddish-orange to them as he ponders this four-footed fur-covered hissing thing, one claw placed ever so quietly (sort of) in front of the other. Urzketh won't kill it. Right away. PLay first, maul later. Or is it Play first, Maul first?

<Local> Urzketh senses that Vorkoroth sends warm, nearly violet gleams towards the greens. They don't want to kill his New Interesting Thing. So he is pleased. « That's right. It wouldn't be nice. It is… an interesting thing. And pretty, in an odd sort of way. »

Sidramuntalath sidles forwards, longer legs propelling him abreast of Urk. A slight shake of his head, and he bumps his brother - his hunting partner - with an obvious, however annoyed it might be, 'wait'.

<Local> Urzketh senses that Pixareth takes no comfort from Urzketh…well not really. Then green edges away in her colors, but the dark, sad blue is still very prominent. « But /why/? Why do you not wish to? » Waaaaaaaahhhh-haaa-haaaa-haaaa! Cough. But then here comes Ram to the rescue- is that drool? I believe that it is! A color of light white fills her own blue as she feels wings enfold her. One last sniff, and in a wondering tone, she informs Zhesteth, « We're special and wonderful- do you hear that? » Then, « You would kill it? For meeeee? » Drool. She doesn't like the feline that distracts from greens, anyhow. She glances at Urzketh, then, and her tone tinges with purple interest, « I think you must like her. » She then turns in shock to Zhesteth, whispering furtively in an excited pink, « Zhesteth, /that/ feline is why they do not want to chase us. It must be killed if we are to make our lifemates happy. » If only Sage could hear her at this moment. You have now witnessed the birth of a lifelong hate of felines. Happy again, more or less, she bounds mentally toward Ram, practically hovering.
Zhesteth has scootched over, bit by bit, until she's hunched over next to Pixareth, looking generally miserable. Her rider would add extra consolement, but said rider seems to have drifted back off to sleep, and so Zhesteth is left with only her clutchmates to brighten her up. …Which they must've done a good job of, as she is now gazing curiously, almost pityingly, at the feline. Run. Now.

Pixareth leans slightly against Zhesteth, and nuzzling in comfort. But at the moment, she's quite happy about this. Headknobs are given a flip, and she jerks her head for Zhesteth to follow her. She prances over, loudly and clumsily, to 'wait' right behind Ram, eyes bright and swirling excitedly. Her long, slender tail wags happily and she crouches down in mimic of Ram. Is he like gonna get him, or like what?

<Local> Urzketh senses that he shoots a bolt of light from his mind, sharpened by the thrill of the hunt. « Fyrrrrrria says it is a 'feline.' » Enough thinking, his thoughts sharpen even more as he gives a tail-thwap at Sidramuntalath. See? Bigger means in the way.

Sage has also drifted off to sleep. Cough.

Urzketh grunts at Sidramuntalath's bulky prodding, but then goes back to eyeing the feline again. Creep creep, he freezes, almost disappearing into the shadowy walls of the barracks, except for his rapidly whirling eyes. Whaddya mean wait? It's right /there/ for Faranth's sake!

Feline realizes that the predator has become the prey, and does just that. Run. Although, brave soul, he does bat at Sidramuntalath once with a loud hiss and flattening of ears. G'way! I am feline, hear me…yowl as I run my little tail outta here!

<Local> Urzketh senses that Sidramuntalath positively /beams/. Reds envelop Pixareth entirely, his mindsense hesitantly cuddling about hers. /His/ Pixie. « You /are/ special and wonderful, » is affirmed. Anything to help him over the shame, baby. « Stop it, Urk. Let us contemplate how to make the perfect kill. It would not do to have blood all over the weyrling floor. Druseth's rider might get annoyed. And we would not do good to annoy our riders with such a pesky task. » He pauses. « I'll sneak around and flush it out towards you; you snag it, we - THAT THING SCRATCHED ME! » That's it. RIP, feline. That is, if he can catch it.

Vorkoroth is small and light and agile. Watch that blue hide move. He's after the feline quickly, but with a different intent than the other two.

Sidramuntalath bugles out, loud, long, brassy and strong. He's /vocal/, damnit, when he wants to be. Hopskips ignored, he /belts/ after the feline, bounding up into the air, coming down, and redoing the action. He's soaring! He's flying! He's - hopping over Vork! You're in the way, man! Lookit that feline /run/! Lemmeatitlemmeatitlemmeatit.. Come back here, you little wuss, so he can rip your hide off and feed it to the trundlebugs!

<Local> Urzketh senses that he sends a whisper of a sigh, enveloped in a scratching-one's-head fashion. « Contemplate this, Ram- -hey! It's getting away! » Urk rowrs from deep within his throat as he turns on a mark and follows the retreating tail of the furry-creature.

<Local> Urzketh senses that Zhesteth is dragged back down to the depths of despair, quickly as she was pulled out of them. « You /still/ don't want to chase us?? » Well, that's just…that's just…meeeeeeeeeeeeean!!! The bright spot in all of this, once again, is Ram, the gallant, the brave. The preeeeeeettttttty. « Yes. Sidramuntalath says we are beautiful and sweet and wonderful. » And privately, she is quite inclined to believe him. « It is? Well, that's just…just…/horrid/! » Gasp! The dread word! Warmth of feeling is again directed at Ram, as she takes the compliments given her sister to extend over to her as well. « And special. » But then fickle girl is back to extreme anger as she gasps. « It /scratched/ you?? This will not do! That is /terrible/! » A few comforting blues and purples are extended Ram-wards, and she's back to mentally ringing her hands and fluttering about. « Ohhhhh, perhaps there's some sort of grand misunderstanding here. » If only felines could talk.

Urzketh roar/squeaks (yes, squeak) as he leaps after the feline, using something (he has a feeling it's Sidramuntalath's flank) as a pushoff to chase after it. A chair goes over, knocked by a swipe of his wingspar as he dodges, corners, and chases after the feline. Come /here/ you!! Who /said/ we were finished with you! (oops, whose tail did I step on?) I've got it, I've got it!

<Local> Urzketh senses that Pixareth would swoons again if she knew she was Ram's, but she's oblivious that way. She's also oblivious to that fact that she's following him around…oh well. « Oooo! Eeeeee! » This is expressed in a brilliant flash of pink as the felines goes crazy. She giggles excitedly then, shrill voice a bounty of bells.

Vorkoroth ducks around the other two, attempting to head the feline off at the pass, as it were.

See feline. See feline run. See feline nearly wet it's fur as it realizes three very large, very large-mawed dragons are chasing it. Mewp.

Zhesteth is just /fawning/ over Ram now, clustering close to him and Pixareth. And at his bugle, she throws in one too, though hers is admittedly more highpitched. She gallops after the feline, though determined not to hurt it, and incidentally ends up getting quite in the way at several points. Oh well. The things dragons do for adoration, no?

<Local> Urzketh senses that he has been reduced to intermittent grunts and squeaks as he chases, random shots of pulsating energy-fire bursting along the links. «! Left…no right right!! There it goes…Vork! Get it! No, there! Gah…Ram you /think/ too much…just do it! »

Pixareth bounds after Ram, fawning over him, too, and playfully squealing and then hopping around much like a rabbit- or whatever Pern calls 'em. Hop hop hop. In danger of suddenly crushing the feline, she rears back and falls slightly so that the boys can kill it. She just wants to run around and play. She then prances over to Zhesteth and bugles girlishly! Isn't this fun?!

A wicked roar - Ram's got that. He's got verbal skills, if nothing else. Sidramuntalath's thinking skills come into play; he gives a loud, insistant growl, and ricochets off the wall to hopefully block the feline's progress. Tail swipes out in a tidal wave of plain furor, /straight/ for the felenoid creature; ichor drips down his nose. He is Ram! By Druseth, out of Chayath - And He Will Never SURRENDER!

The feline is one furry-ized ball of terror at this point. Tail is spotted, and with another swipe of his claw, he leaps up high, dodging it just right. Nyah. Stupid dragon. So tedious.

Vorkoroth darts around quickly, almost snagging the feline with his tail. For once, small size does /not/ come in handy. But the petite blue does not slow, charging after the furry thing while attempting to anticipate its next move.

<Local> Urzketh senses that Vorkoroth's tone takes on a commanding bent. « We need coordination, men! The enemy is smaller and quicker, but there are more of us! »

<Local> Urzketh senses that Pixareth beams brilliant pink, « I am small and quick! » Cough.

Urzketh refrains from reminding Ram that hello, they're /all/ by Druseth, out of Chayath? Still, the flash of furriness catches his astute (if not long-lasting) attention, and he whirls around again, nearly knocking a table over. Another growl ensues as he zips after the creature with an outstretched claw…and ends up grabbing Zhesteth's tail by accident. Oops. Consider it the draconic equivalent of grabbing a girl's boob?

Diulnyth's smooth tenor is added to the cacophony, splashes of groggy puce dotting the otherwise mottled golds of confusion. « What in shell /is/ that? And WHO is holding that mo-no-po-ly on the ladies? ». The ink-shot blue ambles into view, wedgehead poised low and ready for action.

<Local> Urzketh senses that Sidramuntalath is sweat, oldspice, sweet and tangy - and anger. Pure, sulpheric, rotten-eggs and pissed-off-macho-ego /anger/. « That little - » And there he goes, a mental brainstorm of nasty words hurling. « He got me AGAIN! » Ike will be pissed. Luckily, the thing will be dead by then.. or a gruesome fate awaits any felines that he sees. You think that the phrase 'skinning alive' is just that? Nope. « Get off your high runner, Vorko, and chase the sharing thing! He's Faranth's bloated tail, egg-goo from Druseth's shell, expelled matter from Cadge! He's DEAD! Someone kill the First-Egg-cursed thing! »

Sidramuntalath growls out, hissing out a warning to Urk. /His/ girls. But however, he's rip-snorting-furious, and heading towards the agile beast of a feline. He's going to get that thing, if it's the last thing he does. Vault. This time, he springs, long wings and lanky being working for his advantage. The biggest dragon in the chase, he hurtles through the air in a rather felenoid pounce, forepaws aimed at the feline with hurtling intensity.

<Local> Urzketh senses that he's colours sharpen again as he corners after the furball, irate at this point. This thing is not slippery and they are not in water, so /he/, Urzketh, fastest of all, should be able to catch it! A tornado of violets appears as he lunges after the feline with a « You are MINE! »…and winds up with green hide in his claws? « Huh? This is not furry… » Confuzzlement appears as a faint snowfall of stardust…and he follows the tail with his muzzle right up to…Zhesteth. « OH..ah..umm….. » Pause. « Hi? »

<Local> Urzketh senses that Zhesteth, like Pixareth, feels it is not her job to kill or not kill the feline, though she hopes the chosen option is ScareItAwaySoItNeverComesBack. However, she can't refrain from mind-squealing her hope. « Ohhhhhh, I hope you don't kill it! » She's all flutter and about to agree with Pixareth when…whoa. /Whoa/. « EEEEK! That's my /tail/!!! » And then that rarest of feelings - /disgust/ - is directed toward Urk. « What are you /doing/?? Put that /down/. » That's -hers-.

Zhesteth whips around to give Urzketh a /look/, before yanking her tail out of his apparently lecherous grasp. Doesn't want to chase her, indeed.

Vorkoroth skitters to a halt in the middle of the room, peering at the greens.

Pixareth bounces up and down excitedly, and then gets caught up in Ram's moment for a moment. That's redundant. But insert swoon here. Eyes turn slightly reddish and she oos suddenly, idea taking form verrrry slowly. And suddenly- she hops towards the entrance! It will not get past her! No! Not past the tiny 7 foot green that is blocking a entrance waaaaay bigger than her. But suddenly she stops, her dragon jaw open as she sees Zhest's tail in /someone's/ hands! Dear me!

<Local> Urzketh senses that Vorkoroth thinks in colors of query. « Do you not wish it dead, then? »

<Local> Urzketh senses that Diulnyth's gaze trips about the room from green, to blue, to brown, to furball, to /green/. « Helloooo, there, ladies. I sense you are in peril! » Well, sure, the other guys seem to have this pretty much under control, but he's at least gotta go through the rounds…

Urzketh croons an apology, looking quite…um…sheepish…if that's possible for a dragon. Another warble, and he tries to look downright cute. Accident? Hey…he's not even 2 months old yet. Haven't quite figured out the logistics of looking before…um…grabbing. Yeah.

<Local> Urzketh senses that Pixareth glares red, « You grabbed her /tail/! » The red leaves and she turns to mushy orange as she bounds over to Diulnyth and mentally points at Urk, « Get him! He grabbed my sister's /tail/! » Oh the horror!

<Local> Urzketh senses that Sidramuntalath ripsnorts a tidal wave of incense and flame at Diulnyth. « Shove it, smooth-talker. If you want to help, try to kill this sharing thing! » Snap. « And /URK/.. Get your paws off her tail and apologize. _NOW_. » Thunderous bellows indeed, Ram's opressive personality bellows forth with full brash potential.

<Local> Urzketh senses that he quickly tries to soothe, gentle colours of lavender, cornflower, a hint of daisy trickling through in ever so gentle streams towards Zhesteth. « Sorrrrrrry! Really, the feline was /there/ and I lept /after/ it planning to /catch/ the feline to /kill/ it for you… » Complacency, as well as can be given in a sudden bloom of violets. Urzketh flat out ignores Ram - after all, it wasn't his tail he grabbed (thank Faranth - whatever he is, he does /not/ swing that way). « Zhesteth!! You have such a pretty hide, though - so bright, shimmery…I'd place you on an even level with Issryuith, even. » Look cute, must look cute…

<Local> Urzketh senses that Zhesteth does indeed with 'it' dead, if by 'it' you mean 'Urzketh'. To the saviour-boys, Ram and Diulnyth, she appeals, « /He/. Grabbed my /tail/. » That's just not cool. Forget distraction-feline. Get lecherous-bro! Ram's bellowing, though, earns a mighty cringe from her, along with a whimper. Sniffle. Sniffle? No, maybe that won't work again. Urzketh's apology, combined with him compliments, earns a significant brightening of thought. « Really? » Pause. « Or would I be -prettier- than Issryuith. » Must milk this for all she can, after all.

<Local> Urzketh senses that Diulnyth neckarches, displaying those smoooooth 'ridges and patterns. A draconic snort is whuffled in the Ram's direction. He's handling more /important/ things, over here. « Excuse me for a moment, my darlin's. I'm not sure you wanna see this.. » And, with that, he turns to Urz and puffs. That's right! /Puffs/ his slender form into something he considers near-intimidating as he turns to his clutchbrother. « Are you…bothering these fine ladies? Hmm? Answer me, scum! » Ok, so he gets a little carried away when showing off…

The Feline immediately cashes in on one of his nine-lives…and slips through a crack in the wall, hopoing that that awful brown will crash right into it. Kiss my tail, dragons.

<Local> Urzketh senses that Sidramuntalath feels better. His command was carried out.. well, half of it. Urk apologized. And removed his paws. « Are you all right, beauty? » is said, even in the throes of the chase, red-tinged tones hurtling out a wave of inquiry at Zhesteth. « His defiling touch didn't harm you? » Good /Faranth/, all help us from the chivalrious browns. « Leave him alone, » is crossly glared at Diul. No, no, he has to do all the chastisement. Remember. Cough. « Zhesteth? Puppy? Are you sure you are okay? » Pixareth, while he's at it, also gets a curl of white smoke-tail, comforting her. He did not harm her. Or, so everyone hopes.

Vorkoroth skitters to a halt before the wall and peers through the crack, trying to see the feline.

<Local> Urzketh senses that Pixareth seems to awwww at Urzketh's apology, then pouts, « What about /my/ hiiiide? Isn't it pretty? » And then with a click of her fetish, « And what about, like, my talons? Don't you /totally/ love them? » But to reassure, Pixareth needs 'it' dead. Ahem. Seeing Diulynth puff, she almost swoons, but stops before Ram might possibly hear her. Don't want to lose Ram if he'll kill felines for her! « Go Diulynth!!! »

<Local> Urzketh senses that Vorkoroth offers a distracted greyish « You're both lovely, sisters. »

A bellow of pain, of defeat, is issued from the brown. Whirling eyes drop. Urk gets the blame. If it wasn't for his political mess-up, they could have /caught/ the thing, and Ram could have been the victor. Moping, the brown - more than slightly ichor-stained, comparatively, from his scratches - pads back, after glaring at the wall. Evil wall. Evil feline.

<Local> Urzketh senses that Pixareth wags a tail happily, and goes back to report to Ram, « Did you hear? I am lovely- he said so! »

<Local> Urzketh senses that Zhesteth is loved. And lovely. And a…puppy? Awwwwwwwww. Considerably brightened, she coyly turns toward her couch. « No, I'm all right. » Martyred sigh. « But /I/ am going to my couch. » Hmph. And then another flirty little tail-wag as she turns away. « Good night, booooooooys. And Pixareth. » Sweetlings. Comforters. /Wonderful/ dragons.

<Local> Urzketh senses that he whirls the equivalent of an inky mental thwap at Diulnyth, a soft hiss following. « I apologized. Besides, you were sleeping, what do you know? » With that said, he turns back to Zhesteth with appeal in his mindvoice. « Why, of /course/ you are prettier than Issryuith, my dear. Your hide, those talons, that… » No no, Urzketh decides he'd better avoid mentioning the tail. For a long while. At least until he can ::between:: to safety. « And you Pixareth are a vision, a…a… » Urk's at a loss for words and prods for help from his lifemate. « a….lady worthy of our humble service! » Pour it on, Urk…

<Local> Urzketh senses that Diulnyth's eyes slowly half-lid in annoyance at his being interrupted in heroism. /His/ spotlight. /His/ moment to give those greens the vapors. A business-like snort is payed to Urzketh, dismissing him of chastisement, and their relationship immediatly returns to one of brotherly companianship. « The feline is gone. Danger has passed. My work is done… » Yeah. If only he had actually /done/ something…

<Local> Urzketh senses that Sidramuntalath twines a comforting strand of beautiful, smoky brilliance around /his/ Pixie. « Of course you are, beauty. You're lovely, and wonderful, and beautiful, and will always be cute. » And he hurts. Badly. Notice the ichor-green coursing the lining of his words. « Yes… right… you may go back to sleeping. » To Diul.

Zhesteth pulls herself up and prances on over to her couch. Yes, it is time for the Zhesty Princess to curl up for the night. Though not before giving melting looks to all her lovely complimenter-types. Awwwwwwww.

Vorkoroth heads back to his cough now that the excitment is over.

<Local> Urzketh senses that Zhesteth mind-smooches Urzketh, however that works, signifying that all is…mostly forgiven. « Thank you. Good night! » Nap time. Mmmmm.

<Local> Urzketh senses that Pixareth croons and melts into a dark pink with that smoky stuff around her. Sneeze. Awww! Heh. Ahem. But suddenly, she notices that icky color, « Hey…what's wrong? »

<Local> Urzketh senses that Vorkoroth offers soft blue comforts to the greens as he curls up alongside his lifemate. « You're fantastic. Both of you. »

<Local> Urzketh senses that Sidramuntalath reinforces the foggish haze of scentless smoke about his princess. « Nothing.. just a few scratches. I think… I think I need to wake Ike up. »

Urzketh decides now would probably be a very good time to make himself scarce, and slinks off towards his couch and to his one /true/ love. Hopefully he and everyone else will forget about this whole tail-grabbing incident by 'morrow. Hope. Thank FAranth for short draconic memories.

Hyzen heads in from the Training Grounds.

<Local> Urzketh senses that Diulnyth recedes into a myraid of disappointed burghandy, making sure all hear his mental sigh. « Duty..yes, duty. Back to the weyr. » And he illustrates his claim, toddling industriously back to his couch for some serious sleepage.
Diulnyth goes into Diulnyth's couch.

Urzketh mutters something to himself about needing to learn how to /stop/ properly as he heads home. « I think I will go rest. Yes. A wise decision. » Cough.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License