A... Brown? -- Flight Air

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Date Posted: 00:10:32 09/12/06 Tue
Author: W'ren and Datoth, R'jari and Maeroth
Subject: A... Brown?
In reply to: OOC 's message, "(It's fine!)" on 21:35:21 09/03/06 Sun

W'ren is fortunate that when his freshly poured mug of klah falls from the table it spills upon his mutilated, thread-scored leg, and he feels nothing but vibrant vocal vibrations of the roar that shook the Grand Hall. His eyes fall with the ceramic cup as it tumbles from his stump of a thigh down to the stone floor with a crash and shatters into shards beneath his chair. His gaze lifts slowly as the last echoes from the draconic cry ring through the hall and his skull, brown eyes catching the shocked expression on the red-headed young man across the table.

The younger �Rider murmurs softly, awkwardly, in the newfound silence, �That was not Maeroth, W�ren. That� was not a bron--�

The sudden sound of claws scraping across stone brings both men�s gazes back to the entrance of the cave. A broad earthen-hued muzzle fills the gaping space, eyes whirling a violent shade of marble sun as the dragon continues shoving his way forward into the dining area. Shoulders collide with the granite archway, and the crazed looking dragon subsides into a sort of bow, one palm outstretched before him. The younger man watches as the one-legged Rider nigh throws himself from table to table, his swiftly clouding gaze locked on the massive brown face before him.

Just as W�ren runs out of supportive furniture, the great clawed hand is there for him, taking him gently within the massive grasp for all of the urgency of the situation, and placing him back amongst draconic neck ridges. The brown then powers backward from the cave, wings already unfurling even as he retreats, and with the sudden coil of sturdy haunches is aloft� and between.

The young man, R�jari, is already running after the pair, and makes it outside to watch as the brown�s arrow-head tail tip pulls into the swiftly closing nether. He is suddenly aware that his jaw is hanging agape, and closes it with the painful click of teeth.

�Maeroth?�

Mylanith rises. Datoth gives chase.

��a brown?�

There brief moment of mental silence, the dragon ignoring this comment even as his lithe grey-metal form soars over the cliffside and begins to spiral down to the cave below.

We must go to provide the beginning bugle.

R�jari nods, his eyes unblinking in the stirred dust and grit as his bronze lands and extends a hand to aid in the mounting process. Neck-straps still in place, R�jari ties the harness around himself appropriately, his body rolling with the familiar sway of the beast beneath him as Maeroth pumps his muscular wings to bring both Dragon and Rider up into the skies. Pinions tilt, and forward motion is achieved.

Ready, R�jari?

�Yes. But one question?�

The Dragon murmurs his assent.

�Why are you not chasing her?�

It is not our time.

The cold of between overwhelms the pair with nothingness.

R�jari blinks a few times into the painful light of the Flight Air�s skies, a wher-hided glove rising to his face to shove the red wisps escaped from his ponytail behind an ear. Maeroth�s descent is a gentle spiral down to a rock away from those dragon�s already here, hind legs connecting with the cliffside with a gentle bend that, true to form, leaves the young Rider wondering if they�d actually landed yet. These thoughts are brief however, as both human face and draconic muzzle arch in the direction of the distant males. The two great bronzes, Fariath and Bakarith, are obviously ready to soar, their riders tense upon the surface. Datoth only now approaches them, his muted terran flank lackluster in comparison to the metallic sheen of those before him.

W�ren is moving as well, crawling as best he can on hands and leg towards the other Riders. He props himself up against a rock, a now brown-grey gaze not pausing to examine the state of his muddied attire, but immediately falling to Datoth, whose gaze in turn has no other direction but that of the swiftly disappearing golden star.

Datoth. His calm, loyal, devoted Datoth, who had put up with his wretched state of existence for fifteen Turns now. The soothing energies that his lifemate had always provided when W�ren�s thoughts had turned to that abhorrent self-pity are gone now, replaced by� desire? Awe? These were words W�ren could never have imagined in his dragon�s spirit. The dragon that helped one a quarter of his size to walk, the dragon who was patient when W�ren ranted and raged in the privacy of his own quarters, the dragon who found him places to hide when the misery of disfigurement and the sheer pain of daily movement proved too much for his own tolerant, amiable mask to cover.

Truly, W�ren had never expected him to fly.

The muscular brown pulls his way into a middle area between the other two competitors, though his eyes never shift from their post in the distant heavens. The faceted orbs, locked as they are on that glimmering gold amongst all of Pern�s firmament, swirl a brighter blue than the sky at the emotion such a glorious sight provokes within his spirit. There is nothing for him in this moment but that distant unattainable beauty. Passion and frustration meld as one in a haunting melody that ripples up from the plainer dragon�s throat. He must be allowed to follow her wherever she went, to guard her, to serve her every whim�

W�ren is unaware that he�s crying, overwhelmed by the rush of emotion, as he reaches out into the tempest of feeling that is the brown dragon�s mind.

�Patience, Datoth. Wait just a little longer��

((Lemme know when you're happy with the number of dragon's availible, and I'll bugle away. ^_^))

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Replies:

And another.... -- M'att and Ashertith, 10:37:10 09/18/06 Mon