Siulth rises

April 26th 1998
Logged by Saoirse

Participants (in order of appearance):
B'tan and brown Jodith (NPC run by Stephen), Saoirse and green Siulth, K'ryn and blue Xanith (NPC run by Tavim), L'bec and blue Falxth (NPC run by Sefren), Catia, A'ryn and brown Kianth (NPC run by Kaetryn), bronze Vibboth (NPC run by Catia), T'zanai and blue Tanzaneith (NPC run by Leshil)

Central Bowl
Seven spindles brush the clouds - quite literally - overhead, a jagged, spired cotillion grey-stoned majesty. The bowl from here is expansively large, extending a full half mile in both directions, and although sometimes a bit of a stretch, most of the hubs of activity can be easily observed. Hard-packed ground shows the common pathways, all of them meandering about the craggy bunch of boulders that form a centerpiece: carven, hand-worn and foothold-full, it gives a bit of centerpoint to the otherwise vast emptiness of the area.
To the north lie the hatching grounds and leadership weyrs, while the lows of herdbeasts mark the feeding pens to the northeast. A flurry of ever-present activity marks the living caverns to the west, and another time-traveled path the ground weyrs just adjacent to the southwest. Southeast, a glint of blue shows the lake, glittering and cold.
It is a spring noon.

Jodith folds wings and settle lightly on the ground.

Saoirse slides gently down Siulth's neck and lands with a soft thud.

"Well fine! Be that way, ye daft eejit." Saoirse slips inelegantly to the bowl floor as Siulth rears up halfway through her dismount. She staggers backward, almost, but not quite falling on her backside. She glares at the green, mutters something vaguely obscene, and then scrubs her hand through carrotty hair. The green would have to pick today to get all moody.

A sea of green churns and broils, thrown out across the narrow angles of this relatively teeny dragon in unbroken waves: deep teal splashes tail and withers, breaking into a spume of white and blue along the quirky points of her spine and wings' sharp spars. Ocean's depths disturbed, a ghosting of sandy brown tickles her blunt headknobs and sprinkles dark streaks across her petite muzzle, cascading into the irridescent jade that surges over her slender neck and slight shoulders. The runt of her clutch, she is, marked in a riotous confusion of colors down her belly: lapis, gold, crimson and that irrepressible sea-bottom brown, a spectacle of color spins in an underwater mosaic. Too slim, all sinew and bone, there is a resilient power to this tiny tsunami, for all the current awkwardness of limbs.
All a-glow with mischief.
Siulth is 2 Turns, 10 months, and 11 days old.
She is 19 meters long, with a wingspan of 31 meters.

K'ryn and his partner in crime, Xanith, are already in the bowl, one asleep against the other, then pair taking a break. As usual. Ahem. The medium-sized blue dragon slowly unfetters those large lids, blinking a few times, then peers, eyes whirling a soft, content blue. Hmm. What's that green up to? Rather funny how her rider fell… a gentle nudge is sent against K'ryn, awaking him as well, just in time to see the antics. Chuckle.

L'bec lounges against the sea-toned sapphire flank of Falxth, who is suddenly extraordinarily interested in a certain glowing green light. A warble of greeting - perhaps a bit too friendly, eh? - is give, and the rider elbows his lifemate with a nudge. "Hello, Saoirse," he calls with a toothy grin.

B'tan leans aginst brown Jodith who is now fasinatated by a glowing green. u-oh, does this spell advanture for dragon and rider?

Siulth arches her neck, just-so. Then head quarter-turns back to allow her to watch the males from the corner of one eye. A wing flicks, idly - spars spreading and refolding those pearly sails with deliberate insouciance. She's not primping or posing. Nono. She's just… flicking. Flick flick.

Catia appears from ground weyr's overhung shadows.
Catia needs fresh air. The redwort is starting to get to her….. The healer pauses, and looks around. Lots of dragons, including one suspiciously bright green…. Hmm.

A tenor rumble grows in Falxth's throat as he watches, interest growing. "Aw, Fal, settle down. She's just trying to wind you up," L'bec urges his lifemate before looking around sheepishly. "He isn't usually like this. Really." Lifting a hand, he scrubs at his blondish-brown curls, shaking out helmet-head.

Jodith isn't posing either, nono, he's just getting ready for a nice strol in the pernies sunlit sky. wings flutter, send B'tan staggering to keep his balance as he is bushed aside by lifemates wing. "ok, ok, jodit. i'm moving."

Kianth lounges. He's cool like that. Whirling eyes fix on Siulth as he flicks his wings back, settling them flat against his side as he reclines, sure of his masculinity. Or somethin' like that. Maybe his ego. It's certainly big enough to be secure about.

Xanith perks a bit more, noticing the nicely shaded green, and her movements. He shifts, bulk starting to rise, and all but dropping K'ryn backwards onto the ground. Oh. "Shards, Xan, what's so important that…?" Ah. Now he sees. A chuckle, and a soft smile, as he shakes his head, settling against a nearby rock to watch. The blue stretches, mighty wings expanding, and matching those few flicks, before he settles down again, to wait. But his eyes gently change color, to that of arousal.

Saoirse watches this performance with a resigned look. She notes Catia and crosses over to greet the greenrider. Safety in numbers and all that. L'bec gets a wary, so-wary nod. Hmpf. Men. "H'lo there Cat…" Her smile is wry as she jerks her head back at Siulth, rolling eyes. 'Nuf said.

" Hey, lump, you ever plan on moving?" A'ryn prods the brown as he emerges from the Living Caverns, his expression vaugely annoyed. " We've got things to do." Kianth ignores his rider. He's busy, can't ya see? Long tail flicks out, brushing against the brownrider and forcing him to face the lovely Siulth. See? Isn't she purty? " Oh shards," A'ryn moans. " Not now!"

Catia decides that this is not the place for a non-proddy greenrider to be. And inside she goes…
Catia walks to the Caverns.

L'bec deserves his wary look, honest. Even though there are half a hundred things he'd rather be doing than getting caught in this flight, he does know what do do when such an opportunity comes upon him. With a shrug and a flash of his pale green eyes, he smiles back at Saoirse helplessly as Falxth continues his pose-and-croon routine.

Laid back as always, K'ryn just finds a nice, nearby seat to Sorsh, as she settles down upon a nearby rock, perching, and idly watching, one leg crossing over the other. A smile, and imaginary tip of the hat towards Saorise, then he leans back, all ready to watch… and reap the benefits if they come.

B'tan shruggs helplessly, looking from one rider to the other, trying to find the rider of, of, of that green glowbasket. eyes rest on sorsha…. and doesn't move, nor does he speek, just watches.

Siulth stretches, then; head pointing skyward, back arching, wings a-splay and tail twisted to give her full length - though that's still smaller than most any other green. Still, pint-sized or no, she is all female, and after that too-brief display, she launches aloft, toward the feedpens.

Siulth takes off.

Siulth> Pens
Siulth> Freshened breezes from the lake to the south linger with the stronger scents of herdbeast and wherry, dust and dung, that fill this ovoid enclosure. The sturdy fence sways out into the bowl, captures an outlet of clear blue lake, and, as it meets the bowl wall, grows into a stout wind-shelter replete with hay and feeding troughs; 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.

In the pens, Siulth drops in from above; beasts scatter. Wiser than they look, aren't they?

Siulth> Vibboth drops into the pens.

Siulth> Down plummets a swift-winged bronze. If there's a green around, he's chasing….

Siulth> Xanith drops into the pens.
Siulth> Falxth drops into the pens.
Siulth> Kianth drops into the pens.
Siulth> Jodith drops into the pens.

Siulth> folding wings and dropping like a rock, Jodith eyes find a herdbest, and before beast knows what hit it, best is killed, and blooded!

Saoirse puffs out a breath of air, annoyed and feeling awkward with all the stares directed her way. She's no Miss High Reaches, that's for certain, and she's not used to this sort of attention. Makes her grouchy. Most things make her grouchy, but that's beside the point. She folds her arms protectively against her chest and just scowls at the whole ruddy lot of them. Then, without a word, she turns on one heel and stomps toward the ground weyrs, both wanting, and not wanting the others to follow.

A'ryn takes a deep breath and clenches his fists, glaring after the brown before falling into step behind Saoirse, his ice-blue eyes fixed resolutely over her shoulder.

Open sky is exchanged for protecting stone.
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 to a low opening into the infirmary itself. Stacked under rock-shaded cover are low supply chests of sturdy timber, flanked with long tables.

L'bec comes into shelter from bowl's wide open spaces.
A'ryn comes into shelter from bowl's wide open spaces.

K'ryn comes into shelter from bowl's wide open spaces.
K'ryn rolls his eyes, and sighs, hopping down from his perch, and heading into the ground weyrs after the reluctant proddy rider. Eyes squint, trying to get accostomed to the darkness, as he tries to pick out… ah. There. A chair is spied, as he meanders that'a'way, pouncing, then settling down into it, legs recrossed, as he offers another genial grin to Sorsh. One of few words, he is.

Siulth> Siulth hovers above the throng of beasts. Picky, she is today. Besides. The spring sunlight shimmers so nicely on her hide… But there. A new lamb. She dives, to rend and tear and drink, ahhh…. drink.

Siulth> Falxth pounces, talons eagerly sinking into the flesh of an unwary 'beast, and bloods. Tounge flicks out to dab at red flecks which have spattered his muzzle, and his eyes whirl a jeweled orange, alight with desire and determination.

Siulth> Vibboth hovers over a beast before landing on top of it. To break its neck and gulp the blood… He's biding his time till Siulth is all fuelled up and ready to go.

Siulth> Xanith back-wings, talons coming forth to attack a rock formation, digging them down into there, as his eyes whirl more, the soft color of pink that shows his… interest in Siulith. Jaws creak, as he watches about, then decides upon a victim. Waiting like a vulture, he suddenly leans forward, teeth viciously ripping a herdbeast in half in one back, neck tossed back, letting the blood flow into it. Other half is taken, then another herdbeast is repeated on. A third finishes his homicide, and he settles in again, softly licking lips, and watching, waiting…

Siulth> Kianth hovers above the herd, eyeing the beasts before floating down, almost feather-like, and landing beside a lone wherry-buck. Before the bird can do more than stare, long teeth tear out it's throat, allowing only a single squawk of surprise to float skywards before the bround begins his feast. Blood, it does a body good.

Siulth> Jodith glides, dives, breaks neck, kills, bloods, and drinks. all in just about one motion, pluse a few.

Saoirse perches on the edge of that long dragon's couch almost absently. Her eyes are all unseeing now, though the clench of her jaw tells of her private battle with her lifemate. "Just drink it, burn you!"

L'bec strides in after Saoirse, his own green eyes alight with something echoed in his lifemate's. He will be patient, yes, and watch from afar. His gaze darts around the room, vision doubled between his own and Falxth's.

A'ryn hovers behind Saoirse, as much in the background as his dragon is at the fore. Blue eyes mist as he shares his dragon's thoughts, tongue flicking out to moisten suddenly dry lips. " Please," he almost pleads with the brown. " No."

K'ryn gives a stretch and soft yawn, faking non-chalance, as his vision drifts between his and his lifemates, eyes flicking to unseen places. He focuses again on Saorise, eyes flicking about her form, appraising, then letting it drift back to his lifemate's. He loves this part. "Go for it…" He simply murmers.

Siulth> Siulth takes another lamb - so newly born, so sweet to drink. One frightened bleat and then silence. It's mother, staunch protectress that she is, flees in woolly waddle from the green, bawling her terror. Another swipe of taloned-paw and she, too, is silenced; whine becomes wine - blood-wine for this flight.

Siulth> Xanith hears his lifemate's encouragements, and settles into a 'runners' stance, ready for the gun to blow, as his jeweled eyes whirl about faster, ready for the soon to come exercise. His wings unfurl slightly, ready to snap out straight at the slightest mention, and a forked tongue flicks out, taking the last of the blood from his muzzule. He's ready. And raring.

Siulth> Brown flickers with copper streaks in the light as Kianth rises again to hover on cream-streaked wings. Tongue flickers out to scrub clean the blood drenched muzzle as his whirling eyes flicker over the herd. Buck, fen, bull… ah. Shadow falls over the unsuspecting bovine, and before she has a chance to low in terror, talons reach out gently and crush her throat, disembowl her from the sides, letting the blood run free into Kianth's waiting maw.

Siulth> Falxth pounces again, translucent wingsails the color of sky and air and light flashing open to propel him forward. Mine, mine! A wherry is quickly dispatched and he drinks, taking pleasure in its dying cries, determined to catch ever drop of its precious lifeheat. The blood settles into his stomach like rocketfuel, and he swivels his head to appraise the glowing Siulth over his shoulder. Oh yes.

Siulth> Jodith is done blooding and now he stands, read, wings half raised in flightlflight's antisapation, eyes ribbeted to glowing green, the trophy to be one in the race ahead.

Siulth> Siulth shines more with each heady sip, glowing now with a verdancy to shame the sun. That crazy quilt of colour on her underbelly shimmers in contrast: gold and bronze and brown and deep crimson to match the crimson flow that stains her maw, her neck. Time now. It is time.

b'tan wanders in, his mind fokused on his lifemate, Jodith and his blooding and his emotion, his longing for the green. eyes find sorsha and he freezes, aiting.

<Tavim/K'ryn had to leave>

Siulth> Vibboth waits. Just waits. Soon it'll all be happening… then soon it will all be over.

Siulth> Up up up! Wings beat to lift you up out of the dusty pens.
Siulth> Above the Feeding Pens
Siulth> Wayward breezes carry the mixed scent of herdbeast and wherry from below, occasionally fusing with the salty odor of the ocean from afar. Spires overlook and shadow the pens below, often blanketing the scythed, claw-cut ledges used for feeding. Thermals, unusually steady for this area, keep that scent aloft and ever-present, growing stronger as they descend to the feeding grounds below.

Siulth> So you go up, up, and up somemore, spiralling past ledges and Star Stones and up past the very Spindles themselves.
Siulth> Above High Reaches
Siulth> 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.

T'zanai comes into shelter from bowl's wide open spaces.

Siulth> Vibboth shoots up from the dusty pens.
Siulth> Kianth shoots up from the dusty pens.
Siulth> Falxth shoots up from the dusty pens.
Siulth> Jodith shoots up from the dusty pens.

Siulth> And so the waiting is done. Long lithe and lean, bronze flows upwards, seeking brightest green. Siulth shall be Vibboth's…

Siulth> Tanzaneith circles up from the Central bowl.

Siulth> Jodith has finished his wait as well, leeping forwoard to gain momentum, then settling into an easy glide, follow where trophy leads.

Siulth> Siulth soars high, wings beating in quick rhythm to take her above these suitors that follow, that plague her, that would pluck her from the sky. She flies; she flees.

Siulth> Dark shadows dance over copper hide as Kianth's powerful muscles work, long wings spread and beating as he streaks after the embodiment of desire. Whirling eyes of hellish purple fix on that oh-so green form before him, as a magnet draws iron, so does Siulth draw Kianth. And onward he flows, sand down a mountain, oil across water, quicksilver on the table's surface. On he flies, shadow-stalking across the sky, hunting the prey that is Siulth.

B'tan will wiat, his lifemate jodith can glide patiently, so can he wait patiently. one step forwoard, then stop. not to close, not yet.

Siulth> Falxth tests his wings, opening them to power upward, revelling in speed and flight and agility. Sleek form cutting through the air like a longship through water, he darts after the green, marvelling in her beauty and agility. His sun, his light, he follows, her wavering tail a taunt. Voice rising in a call, he carols to her, a bell-bright clarion reminder that he follows.

L'bec presses his eyes closed, finding a wall to lean against. His own strength seems tapped as he watches the flight from afar.

Saoirse shivers sharply as Siulth takes to flight. Electric blue eyes are unfocused - she sees nothing but clean blue skies and spring sunlight; feels only the crisp breeze against her face, beneath her wings, cooling the heated blood that courses through every vein. She rocks slowly, a rhythm to match each beat of her lifemate's wings.

A'ryn figits nervously from behind the others, constantly running a hand through his thick blond hair as his eyes lock on Saoirse, tongue flickering out with disturbing regularity to moisten his lips, blue eyes wide and filled with a mixture of anxiety and desire. Which will win?

Siulth> Tanzaneith spirals, swiftly, up and after; progress as bumpy and buffeted as that of any rafter. Purple or some nearing shade marks his hide and him distinctive; in sheer delight and for the challenge of life does he live.

Siulth> Siulth gains altitude sharply, riding the thermals that spiral upward from the bowl to dizzy heights. She waits until the males near, then she dips, slips to the left, tucking wings and twisting that lithe body into a barrel roll that takes her sharply back and left.

T'zanai laughs heartily, joyful in the chase. The catch is a bonus, and not a thing that he ever worries about. For him it is uncertainties, those things unknown, which brings out the best. He looks it at the moment, too, dark hair mussed and eyes twinkling, unfocused, broad face richly hued and wind-toughened.

Siulth> Jodith follows the green in her flightpath, closing the distance and diving as she dips. closer, closer he grow, matching her every movement as he follows his dream to the end of the unavers.

Siulth> Bronze wings flare wide to catch Vibboth against the thermals; banking right and then left to follow the small object of his desire. Up up and ever upward…. eyes red with lust, every muscle straining with eager passion.

Siulth> Falxth powers after, mastering windcurrents as his own, urging his sky-streaked form higher and higher in chase, glowing Siulth twinning Rukbat in her progress. The blue grows lightheaded, dizzy even, though not from the height; Siulth's dwindling shape promises pleasures unspeakable as goal. Following her lead, he draws his wings close to his body and angles for the turn. She proves more agile than him, though, and his wings strain with the effort of holding the turn and keeping it under control in his persuit of that peerless lithe form.

Siulth> Kianth merely sweeps his wings forward and coasts to the left, breaking and slowing to allow for the turn and the green's change in position. That maddening calm has reached his eyes, and they whirl a slow violet as they once again fix on the green goddess before him. Flickers of gold streak across his hide like lighting as his wings sweep down with a sudden crack and his full throated bugle of desire and challange races out before him to enwrap Siulth in bronzen bells. Brown shoots forward like a bolt from a crossbow, intent on the prize before him.

B'tan takes just a few steps closer, feeling his blood rushing threw his vanes and his lifmate persuse his goal. sorsha was the fokus of his goal now, but time, time, B'tan must wait.

Another groan, soft and low, floats out from A'ryn's direction as the brownrider slowly loses his battle with his beast for control of his mind. Blue eyes, so shadowed as to seem black, gleam hungrily at the greenrider before him as a no longer shaking hand brushes golden hair from his face.

Siulth> Siulth nears the seven spindles that cradle the weyr in their spiky surrounds. She heads straight for one, veering only just at the last moment to rise above the stone. Talons clench the peek for a split-second, both to push off for greater speed, and to help her angle downward, to follow the slope of the ancient volcano with only a few metres between her and the ground.

L'bec swoons, exhaling in a sudden loss of breath, pulling his arms close around him, as if that could ease the ache in his lifemate's wings. Pale green eyes open and dart knife-like about the room and those gathered. Crowded. Too crowded. But he isn't leaving, no, not without Siulth. Er, Saoirse.

Siulth> Tanzaneith trumpets gleefully, corkscrewing after her with the agility that marks his kind; daredevil he, no need to unwind. Wings sing, against the wind, as he pulls them in; ever tighter, ever righter, light coruscating off talons and his voice still adding to the din. Every bit of speed he gains put torward her, he sheers slightly to follow her in a way more sure.

Siulth> Falxth shrieks his frustration at the green's clever trick, tenor voice rebounding in echo from the bowl walls! No fair! No fair! Furling wings, he plummets after, following the volcano's slope as well as the green's track, desire pressing all thought from his mind and forcing him to call up everything from his reserves of energy. Pursuit is all. To catch is all. Siulth is his single goal, the only thing worth the moment.

Siulth> Jodith claps his wing close, spining round spire, then reopening them again to thrust upwoards, also use spires stone peek to push off and gain speed. onwoard, forwoard he flew, after the goal, after his dream, his prise, /his/ siuth!

Siulth> Kianth rolls around the spire, folding his wings to his back as he allows his greater weight to pull him downwards at a greater speed, every nerve aware of the stone just meters from his body, of the danger of this move for a beast so large. But he's not leaving this chase without a fight. Eyes pick up speed as he arrows true towards the dragoness below him, his clarion call of challenge ringing off the mountain peaks, sending pebbles and rocks bouncing below him with it's echo. Tail lashes wildly as he steers, keeping control as he plummets ground-wards, hot on Siulth's tail. Or rather, that's where he'd like to be.

three more steps and B'tan once again stops. heart pounding breath shalow, he could feel the drain of energy from hi lifemate as they both persued after their goal, their trophis, the dream of the moment. suilth and sorsha were all that mattered to either of them and they'd fligh to galicies end for them.

Siulth> Siulth skims the slope until she nears the treeline; too-near, perhaps, and she squawks her dismay, forced to pull up sharply to avoid colliding with a row of firs. She turns that steep climb into an arcing circle, twisting upright at the apex, to send her back the way she came. She slows somewhat. The dizzying flight and this last ascent have taxed her strength. But she presses on, still seeking escape.

Siulth> Down! Down! What /is/ she doing! Vibboth dives, swoops and generally angles for the green, sun glowing off bright bronze as he streaks afterwards.

Siulth> Jodith is follow the green so entently that he nearly makes the same mistake she had. veering to on side, he ark upwords and scans the sky for that glowing glowbasket. and finds her. dive, spen, whirl! and back on the trail, closer than ever to his trophy. but close don't count in the game of dragonchace.

Siulth> Wings flare out as Kianth first sees Siulth turn and he pulls out of the dive, wings beating heavily as he curves around to streak after the green. Sharp eyes note her lessening of speed and he rolls up and over, once more his greater weight pulling at him, giving him a gain in speed despite the tiredness that clouds his wings. Another, softer call, this one entreating, floats out to surround Siulth in tones of sweet gold and soft silver. Wings spread wide as he offers to her freedom, the kind only he can give her, the kind she truely wants.

Siulth> Falxth arcs in chase, his own talons brushing the tips of the firs before his wings pump to regain altitude, momentum to be gained and redirected, at best, slight with the sleekness of his form. A bugle announces his presence to the glowing Siulth, though, following in answering echo to her sqawk of dismay. And he climbs, climbs, drawing on the last of his reserves and beyond, tongue slipping from his maw at the side with his effort. Yet he too follows with the apex-twist, feeling relief as he stretches his wings into a glide for level flight.

A'ryn clenches his fists again, biting his bottom lip as he focuses all of his attention on Kianth, capitulating control to the insistant brown, giving him the strength and will he needs if he is going to free the green from her self-imposed prison.

Siulth> Tanzaneith whirls, twirls: wings unfurl, stroking air strong and quick as he flips, almost trips. Still, he carries on, like any satyr or faun, to follow, follow, and maybe grasp her gleaming form…perhaps he'll take her by storm? One last, fast, burst of speed, and there, he's done the deed. Shall he achieve, or his rider leave, is now a mystery to be solved by Siulth and where she swings.

b'tn eyes sorhs, palms swetty now as the flight entenifies. one, two, thre, four mor steps toard the rider and stop. dragon must catch first and Jodith could, Jodith would, it was their dream, his trophy, B/tan's prise and rewoarding sorsha.

L'bec lifts his hands to scrub at his crazed, blondish curls, as if his lifemate's weariness has translated into an itch covering his entire body. Green eyes glinting, he watches Saoirse with an eagerness akin to desperation. He knows this tale is nearing its end.

T'zanai lounges against a wall, model-like, yet watchful, waiting with bated breath for the results. The wall nearest to Saoirse, of course.

Saoirse scowls again, though this time it's an expression of desperation rather than annoyance. She wants away, away from these. But she's at the edge of the couch already. There's nowhere to go, and now Siulth falters.

Siulth> Siulth dives, trying for greater speed, but those smaller wings are trembling now with effort and she wafts, helpless, into Kianth's path.

Siulth> Kianth spreads his wings wide to break his fall as he coasts into Siulth, folding them around her as his neck and tail gently twine with hers. His warble of relief has a note of welcoming it in it as he indeed does free her from the prison of her own making. Fly free at last, Siulth.

L'bec stumbles from the room and back to his weyr to commisserate with poor Falxth….

Siulth> Siulth wastes only a moment in struggle before relinquishing herself to the brown's caress… caught; freed by Kianth's prowess. She falls… they fall… enfolded, entwined, enwrapt… In bliss. Or at least, she is.

Siulth> Tanzaneith drops lower into the Weyr's caldera.

Siulth> Jodith suddenly disappears ::between::!

Wide eyes turn toward A'ryn; wary no longer, but still lost in Siulth's vision. She sees Him there… A'ryn… Kianth. Whichever; whoever; they are one and the same and she stands suddenly, drawn toward the brownrider and the completion of Siulth's surrender.

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