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Post by purnip on May 19, 2012 18:16:22 GMT -5
"Dem. Dem, hon, wake up. Y'all been sleeping all morning."
Pananarie was starting to worry, despite all the reassurance she had been given about her Tan's condition. For the past week or so, Demeth was behaving in a peculiar manner, especially around males. She was in an irritable mood--which was strange for Summer. She overslept more than usual, she was eating more often than usual, and she was becoming protective of her rider during Threadfall in the presence of her wingmates. Was all of this related to her peak of maturity? Pan sure hoped not. At least if Demeth was under the weather, she'd get over it and that'd be the end of that. If this happened every time she was about to rise for mating, that was once every turn she'd have to endure this kind of attitude. Hopefully not around the Summer again, because that would really put a damper on things on her favorite season of the turn.
The Tan shifted violently in her sleep, but she stubbornly kept her eyes closed tight. Longer, her mindvoice growled. A little longer.
"Dem, it's almost noon. We already missed the mornin' exercises. Fajra's gonna chew us up and spit us out."
Then what is our hurry?
"Their ain't one, but you shouldn't be sleepin' 'round all day either. If you're sick, just tell me," Pan pleaded suggestively. "I'll fetch a healer for ya."
There is no cure for what ails me. Demeth's eyes opened, but her body shifted again to curl into a defensive position. My time has come, but I am in no hurry to address it. I feel the urge to fly today, and it is strong. Those eyes burned, but she remained stewing, refusing to move anymore. They will come after us, Pan. They will chase us and take us. I only worry for what this might do to you.
Pananarie was beginning to feel the panic, the same anxiety and turmoil in her heart that she picked up during their lesson on mating flights. So today was the day. She had a long talk with Fajra about this late in her weyrlinghood. If she really wanted to, she could stop this from happening. But the best thing for both of them is if Pan could stay strong and endure the flight altogether. It would only last a day, and according to various sources, much was forgotten when the clouds cleared up the following morning. But only if you can truly endure it, or your dragon's safety will be at risk.
Such is nature. I would defy it for you, if you wish. I would stop Pern for you, if it came down to such.
"Demeth...you..."
Are you sure, minedear--?
"Don't worry about me," Pan said as strongly as she could. But why did it sound like a pathetic mew? Could she do it? After what happened to her all those years ago, even after all the lessons...she knew how important it was for her dragon to fly. She knew she could lose Demeth if she was far too stressed out during the event. She would rather face her darkest fear than lose her dearest heart, and she would rather squash it than live in constant fear of those who were supposed to be her allies. At least she knew that her dragon would remain with her--that they would become one. Demeth was strong. Even if she didn't care for the boys, she wasn't afraid to face them in this way. "Enjoy your flight. Please. That will help me stay strong. I won't leave you; not for a second."
The Tan understood, but she continued to hesitate. She was not privy to enjoying this act herself, but as long as she let her instincts take over, this would turn out to be just as eventful as an evening supper. Demeth pulled herself up, but her body remained hunched and postured, as if braced for an attack. As soon as she stood on that ledge, she held herself high, breathed in deeply, and spread her wings wide.
She would be a silent leaf sailing on the wind. She would not announce her flight. She would take a herdbeast and drain it of its blood, then she would dance with the clouds gathering in the west. Pan was walking up behind her, quiet and resolute, ready to give her mind entirely to Demeth so she wouldn't so much as be mildly aware of what occurred back at the weyr. They would face this bravely as one, and perhaps they might even outwit all the boys. None would chase them. It was nearly lunch after all. They were shuffling into the dining hall without turning an errant glance back to the skies.
Demeth dipped off her ledge and took towards the pens, methodically hunting one beast in particular and barely touching its blood before taking off. She had Pananarie's impatience to push her, to drive her away.
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Cathaline
Lady Holder 
cathct[M:50]
Posts: 3,279
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Post by Cathaline on May 19, 2012 18:52:26 GMT -5
Weslieth had just eaten his own lunch and was sitting by the lake, having a drink and washing the blood off his muzzle. A soft curl of lust stole into his awareness, and the yellow lifted his head, watching the tan lift into the skies. What was it about these Dalibor flights that was so confusing? I can feel her, but she does not call,[/i] he told Jazz urgently. His instincts pushed him to chase, but he had not been invited, so he was paralysed with indecision.
Jazz snorted and made the decision for him. "If she doesn't want you there, she'll let you know, Pudgeth," she informed him, turning against the sea of people heading in to lunch. In moments she made it back to her dragons side and scrambled onto his back to hitch a lift. He'd been chasing a fair amount lately, but she didn't mind at all. For her, at least, none of this was a big deal; it was just nature, and it didn't surprise her that sweet-natured Weslieth should want to please a decent amount of females.
At last Jazz hopped off of Weslieth's back and onto the ledge of Pananarie's weyr; the yellow leapt back into the air, wings beating powerfully to send him after the tan. He hadn't met her yet, but he'd met a tan and liked her. He was far too polite to stalk after without announcing, so he called out, Demeth, you are beautiful.[/i]
Jazz, meanwhile, stayed a decent distance away, watching Pananarie as her own lust and desire grew. She seemed to have given herself over, wholly; that was probably a good thing.
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Post by matsi on May 22, 2012 12:36:11 GMT -5
Apoth hummed softly as he was being waxed. S'id sweated, but looked proud as he particularly rubbed the dry spot at the base of the Brown's tail. The pair was silent, except for Apoth's soft humming, and just enjoyed the relaxed company of eachother. It was perfect bonding time, or 'bro time' for them. In that moment, as the noon light started to glisten off of the well oiled spots on the brown's hide, it seemed impossible for anything to really tear them from their bonding time.
Then Apoth's head raised as the tan flew over and to the pens. He watched her, his humming subsided, and his eyes intently watching her. She was quiet, which, if he remembered correctly, wasn't too unusual, but this was an odd almost deafening silence coming from her. He watched her for a few more moments before turning his head to His.
Get on, S'idMyOwn,
Wha-? You arn't fully oiled yet, S'id's green eyes glared at Apoth, questioning and daring him.
You can finish later. A tan gets ready to fly. Lets GO! The brown let his chest rumble slightly, almost desprate to get His to the weyr of the Tan and chase her. Grumbling, Sid put his oiling gear on the ground, along with Yang, and told the blue to stay, then got onto his beast.
Apoth took flight within seconds, and pushed himself quickly to the Tan's weyr and deposited his rider there. The brown watched His for a moment, earning a nod from the blonde man. Then, with a huff, Apoth took flight once more.
Apoth reached the skies just after a yellow. His eyes, which were already dancing with the deep purples of lust, didn't pay the bright hided male any attention, though. He watched the tan, judging her, trying to figure out why she was so quiet. So many other females called to them, taunted them, but she was different. Not that he had anything against different. He was different. His was different. He liked different, but that didn't keep him from wondering.
When the yellow spoke out to the Tan, Apoth held in a snort, but then let out a croon. No words. If she didn't want to speak to them, then he would play the no-words-game too. Only the croon would echo from him for now. Until words would be needed.
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Post by purnip on May 24, 2012 9:24:02 GMT -5
Whereas other females would delight in the arrival of each new chaser, Demeth seemed rather impartial to both the Yellow and Brown. She did not respond to Weslieth's compliment, nor did she so much as grumble in response to Apoth's croons. Her only goal was to make this flight a particularly difficult journey for the males to complete. While she knew it was a silly idea to try out-flying them altogether, the Tan was well aware of the fact that she would have to make her decision when the time came. If both were to catch up, she would need to choose the 'more appealing'. Whatever that meant.
She slid away to the left, as if she were enjoying a pleasant flight devoid of urgency or lust. It would have made a less mature dragon question the validity of this chase. A curious onlooker might assume they were drilling for the next threadfight. Demeth was not taking this passionately, aside from the part where she would be flying until either she collapsed with or without a male at her side. When interpreted as a sense of duty, she was rather engrossed in it. With Pan's mind interwoven with hers, slowly embracing, Demeth became a little less cold. By the time they crossed over the weyr's border, her wingbeats were stronger, and her determination grew. So begins the first round.
Pananarie was lost from the beginning, barely aware of her guests. She overlooked S'id completely when he arrived, big Brown and all. Meanwhile the only one that earned somewhat of a glance was Jazz. Only because it was easier on the human. A fifty percent chance of ending this pleasantly? The hope itself would keep her strong enough to maintain their bonds. Demeth remained neutral to her suitors, even with Pan's favor in play. To her they were still males, and therefore different. Trickier. While she never trusted the opposite sex, she understood that this part of life was natural, and for her to deny it would make a mockery of all she stood for.
She started to even out and begin an ascent, implying that higher altitudes would govern a good portion of the flight. Demeth pushed harder so she wouldn't lose too much speed. All in all, she pulled nothing risky. She wasn't a flashy Sub-Queen; she didn't feel the need to test her suitors for superiority. She wasn't entirely sure what criteria she would use. The Yellow was vibrant. The Brown was easy on the eyes. Beyond that she saw nothing else.
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Cathaline
Lady Holder
cathct[M:50]
Posts: 3,279
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Post by Cathaline on May 24, 2012 12:20:27 GMT -5
Though Weslieth was somewhat smaller than his fellow chaser, and quite a lot chubbier, he flew after Demeth with dogged determination; he would not do her the dishonor of dropping out, no matter how exhausted he ended up. She was worth every ounce of effort he could wring out of himself, and hey, it was early yet. It was a blessing that she flew straight and true, having little interest in fancy flying that he couldn't hope to complete. The yellow veered after her, and when her ascent began, he circled around to find an updraft to help lift him higher.
This was a decidedly strange flight. The desire he felt for her was in no way matched by her own emotions, not that he could sense, anyway. Yet he knew all dragons were different, and this was altogether pleasant, if not passionate. There was no need to tax his powers of speech coming up with compliments for a dragon he didn't know personally; with only Apoth winging along nearby, Weslieth was easily able to lose himself in the joy of flight. The wind whistled past his body, and he crooned out to Demeth, not even knowing if she'd be able to hear him at this distance.
Nothing but happiness emanated from Weslieth; he wanted her, but at least for the moment, he had no hope of catching her outright. If he could endure the paces she planned to put them through, he would likely be able to outspeed the larger Apoth in the end if he saved that last burst of energy, but it really wasn't his style. Weslieth didn't like to capture or to claim; he liked to be chosen, to twine himself and fall with a lady who desired him above all. Maybe it would be him today, and maybe not; he did not intrude on Demeth's mind, because that would be rude, but he made it clear if she wanted to search that there was nothing that would please him more than to chase her, and perhaps win her. At this moment, he couldn't imagine a more perfect, more natural day than this, with the sun beating down on his buttery hide.
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Post by matsi on May 24, 2012 12:51:15 GMT -5
Apoth's mind was hard at work as he took in the situation, noting every detail he could. There were so many things to note, yet none of them led him to any answer or result that could explain what exactly was going on. Apoth was still new to the whole flight thing, with this beautiful tan being only his second, he still was unaware of all the differences between different females and their flights. But that didn't stop the small brown. No, not at all. If anything, it made the sandy brown male even more determined.
He kept his swirling purple gaze on her, thinking, learning, wanting. There was noting else he could really do, except keep up. He finally shot the yellow a glance, sizing him up, growled slightly at his own thoughts, then looked back at the tan. He would not fight one that looked so...so.. un threateing. Now, if that yellow so much as tried to steal that beautiful tan from the skies... Apoth huffed again at the thought. He felt so confused when he thought of such things, a result of the lust that pulsated through his body, so he just shoved those obsurd thoughts away. He let himself focus on the lust and the tan.
As the tan started to ascend, Apoth pumped his wings harder. He was not going to take the easy way out like that foolish, obnoxiously bright yellow! He would PROVE himself for what he really was. He was a brown! A prince, a strong warrior, a leader, a perfect dragon! He would prove it in anyway that the Tan demanded! She was the queen of these skies today, and he would bow down to her, and only her.
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Post by purnip on May 27, 2012 12:02:11 GMT -5
Demeth was starting to become influenced by a wave of irritation from her human half, annoyed with the determination of those thick-skulled males. She continued to ascend higher and higher, until she huffed defiantly for whatever thin air was available beyond the clouds. She had at least half a mind at that point to begin descending sharply, before she passed out from oxygen deprivation. The climb so far exhausted her, but the rush of wind that swept past her massive build provided her with enough fuel to to proceed with a passion. What she lacked before, she had in spades. No longer was she the placid Tan that graced her world with patience and understanding. Her heart was beating quick, the intensity of her flight took a rapid increase. Without even peering back at the males, she was sending a very clear and concise message: catch me if you can. Catch me if you dare.
At the weyr, Pan was completely gone, staring past Si'd and Jazz as if she were looking at their dragons flying after her just behind them. And there she stood, holding her ground, looking both avatars over as if she were preparing to choose her second in command for some kind of war. Her gaze was rather hard on Si'd, wrought with scrutiny. Even with Demeth to back her up--especially with Demeth--she could only see Si'd and Apoth as males. They weren't to be trusted; that was the code. Even if they stood before her, willing to jump hoops and fly half-way across the world, she couldn't deny that convoluted idea. Then she glanced to Jazz. Her gaze became somewhat softer. A pudgy Yellow and a pretty young face. They felt less threatened the instant they regarded the Yellowpair. It seemed tolerable on a whole, different level.
Demeth wasn't tired enough to stop out of weariness alone, but she wasn't motivated to keep dragging this flight any longer than necessary. Without knowing why exactly, she found herself suddenly attracted to her Yellow chaser. While she understood what he was and what sort of role he'd fill, she couldn't quite place why it occurred to her at all. He was the better choice. While Apoth and Si'd would make perfect mates to someone someday, it simply wouldn't be Demeth, and it simply wasn't going to happen.
The Tan's short flight ended just as uneventfully as it began. She slowed down, banked towards Weslieth's side, and matched speeds with him so he could easily claim her. Pan was already sauntering towards Jazz at the weyr, though instead of her more casual approach of throwing her arms around the prettiest girl in the room, she was somewhat cautious about it. She was less imposing and more inviting, giving permission and waiting for a response rather than stating the obvious fact that a decision had already been made.
{Sorry this is ending kind of early...This week I have visitors, so I might not be on much...}
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Cathaline
Lady Holder
cathct[M:50]
Posts: 3,279
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Post by Cathaline on May 27, 2012 21:54:11 GMT -5
Weslieth strained after Demeth, higher and higher, breaking past the cloud cover. He'd come this high before, of course, but even his great lungs couldn't sustain the thin air for too long. He expected the descent to come at any moment, and his eyes fixed on her tan form, prepared to dive after her.
He didn't quite expect to find himself diving with her, not this soon. She slowed to meet him, and, knowing her choice had been made, Weslieth surrendered to instinct and twined himself with her, holding her close and safe as they began the long fall back to Pern together. Nothing mattered but the beautiful skylady, and very softly, half-mentally, he crooned to her. Weslieth would always strive to be worthy of the choice she'd made, a good mate, afterwards a good friend as long as she'd allow him to be.
Jazz had been around far too long not to recognise the surge of lust as soon as Weslieth realised he was the winner, and she stepped closer to Pananarie, sliding her arms around the girl's slim waist. Her fingers stole under the hem of her shirt to brush against the skin there, and she gave Pan a kiss fueled by mainly dragonlust. At the moment, nothing mattered but claiming the tanrider just as her yellow had claimed the tan - via invitation, without hesitation, and with every intention of proving herself to be the right choice, even if she was only Weslieth's avatar in this moment.
Breaking the kiss, she tugged Pananarie toward the bedroom; the urge to join with the girl was too strong to deny, and she wanted her as quickly as possible.
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