Even Though Your Skies Are Blue {Gathering!}

[Kila]

Sol blinked and stared at Pratyba with shock as the prattled off a list of riders and dragons. Yet one thing stuck out clearly in her head. "Our Weyrwoman?" she repeated, oblivious to Pratyba's please to go for now. "What do you mean? Do you live in the Weyr, Pratyba? ... Are you a candidate?" Comnile and Tess, who had been too busy squinting at the woman their sister had pointed out before, snapped to attention at the word 'candidate.' Their eyes grew wide and they stared at their newest friend with a sort of reverence. "Woah, really?" Comnile ventured.

But the gaping contest was cut short as another woman came close to bursting on the scene. "Mommy!" Tess exclaimed, seeing Celine bustling back towards them. Sol was unsure whether or not she had seen them yet, but as a reflex dove into the nearest hiding place. "Comnile, Tess!" Celine called from far away, waving to them. Sol had gotten out of the way just in time. "You two are toast," she whispered to them. And they knew it. "I'll come back for you!" she promised in hushed tones, grabbing Pratyba and hoofing it off into the safety of the crowd. "Where is your sister?" Sol heard her mother demand as she made her escape. "Uh.... she got pulled away by a dragon rider!" Comnile blundered, covering for her as best he could. "Yeah!" Tess added with excitement, eager to get in on the lie, "And a dragon!"

The rest was lost to her as she wove deftly through the crowd, putting as much space betwixt herself and the baked goods as possible. She stopped abruptly and began to stroll, knowing better than to look suspicious running. "So tell me," she resumed casually, "Where exactly do you fit into the Weyr?"

[Admin]

By now you should know everything you say,
Can and will be used against you some day,
I got the microphone so don’t go too far,
Cause I’m gonna tell the whole world how you really are.

"I wasn't expecting bad news, though I certainly hope Kerath will behave;" Fajra replied curtly to the purplerider, managing a little smile to match her somewhat playful words. Of course, she was also very much hoping that every single one of the dragons and their rider would behave and she had good reason to feeling a tinge worried about the purple. The color was known for being the prankster's of the Weyr. "Technically, you're flying under O'sho, but I am your Weyrwoman;" she added. "But there isn't much to see right now." She turned in a slow swirl that made her dress billow out slightly, still smiling and enjoying herself a little. There was something sort of flirty about it but she was mainly just trying to enjoy the day and relate to W'al. Or perhaps it was all Kalith's influence. The Queen still had her eyes fixed on Kerath, watching him closely as she continued to enjoy the sun of the day.

Finally, she choose to greet him. Good day, Kerath; she said to him, voice very proud and royal. Sitting high up above everyone else, she was certainly act the part of ruler of the land. Even though the Lord Holder took care of the affairs, she still viewed Crescent as hers. She was the Queen of the Weyr that protected this place which made it hers and no one else's. Anyone who tried to say otherwise would face the wrath of the very graceful, powerful, lithe looking dragoness who could probably swallow any human in one bite if she wanted to. Her fixated attention moved away from the purple when another dragon arrive, a bronze who heralded his arrival loudly. She bugled back to Daidoroth, alerting him of her presence so he could properly acknowledge her awe inspiring watching over of the gathering. Given that his rider was currently on the outer with hers, she felt she deserved someone sucking up to her.

Hello Daidoroth; the copper greeted the bronze, making sure that her rider could hear her now. Fajra had already noticed the arrival of the King, which in turn meant the arrival of his rider, and was looking a little distracted from her conversation with W'al. She wanted to find the bronzerider. Why? Not because she was currently enjoying being around him, but rather because she wanted an opportunity to pay him back for being a wherrybutt. She was someone who got her revenge and she was tried of being worried about it. If she could, she wanted to get it today and a gathering offered plenty of opportunity to do that, except that it was rather public. She sighed and stopped staring off into the sky where Daidoroth had been; she couldn't been seen doing something foolish to one of her rider's today so it would just have to wait. Firmly, she tried to shove it to the back of her mind, but it still nagged at her now.

I don’t even care how you’re gonna feel,
Cause I’ve already tried to give you something real,
So go ahead and get mad never talk to me again,
I don’t even care cause I got my.

[renscorch]

W'al just gives a smile, "Well I wasn't following technicalities." He said, then gives a chuckle. However her expression changed a little. Then he smiled, "Need something taken care of? I'm sure I can do just about anything you ask." He said with confidence.

Kerath did notice he was being watched, how ever he ignored it, that is until he was greeted by the Queen. Hello Kalith He responded with great friendliness. He was cheerful today, many things to do, many things to start trouble with, maybe he would enlist a few followers... A blue possibly?

[4horseshowgirl4]

Pratyba opened her mouth to respond, but suddenly Sol finally decided to get a move on! Not one to avoid plunging into trouble (or, in this case, running away from it), Pratyba yielded to Sol's hurried guidance. She didn't bother to ask where they were going, exactly; all that mattered was that they were going someplace. The rotund girl didn't bother to listen to Sol's mother's words; as she knew the words of a somewhat-concerned-but-not-really-caring-enough-to-chase-down-her-kid-who-knows-where mother well enough. Her own mother had learned far ago to ignore whatever Pratyba did, as she couldn't get into too much trouble at the Weyr with the dragons and responsible 'Riders watching all the happenings in the Weyr with great care. Undoubtedly, Sol's mother would feel the same way with all of the traders around eager to prevent a pair of teenagers from destroying their wares and costing them a profit.

Pratyba was unprepared for Sol's sudden cease of forward motion, and she bumped roughly into the taller girl's back. "Sorry!" she chirped, stepping besides Sol. "Ya' know, next time, tell a person running behind you before you stop!" Pratyba took a moment to collect her windblown hair into a slightly more contained ponytail, pinning the unruly strands back and out of her eyes. While she'd only been at the Gather for a few Candlemarks, her simple, formal dress was already wrinkled and dotted with a few small klah stains. Pratyba wet her finger and scrubbed at them for a moment, but she quickly gave up the fruitless task. The spots wouldn't come out without soapsand, and, besides, these were getting small on her (she'd had them since she was thirteen), and she planned to sew herself up a new dress out of a nice, brown fabric that would (hopefully) hide most of the stains.

"Yeah, I'm a Candidate!" Pratyba said, throwing out her chest haughtily. She gave Sol a rather condensending look before dissolving into giggles. "Don't be all impressed or anything, no pun intended! Candidates are pretty much at the level of drudges at the Weyr. Trust me, I feel like one often enough! Basically, they get us to do all the chores by tempting us with baby dragons." She chuckled again before counting out the money she still had clutched in her hand to make sure that she still had all of it. Then, she hastily stowed it back in her pocket. Before continuing, she strolled forward in a rare silence, catching her breath and relishing the sight of all of the busy people enjoying themselves.

"I haven't stood at a clutch yet. I came from Southern, and it was so huge that I never got picked. I was allowed to Stand at Dalibor, though! There are only two of us at the moment, so I think I have a pretty good chance! That's Kalith," Pratyba said, pointing at the shining figure in the distance, her formidable form unmistakeable even at this distance. "Hey!" she said suddenly, clapping her hands together happily. "Do you want to meet the dragons? You can meet Oveth! He's really nice; he gave me a ride here! Now, come on!" Pratyba grabbed Sol's wrist and tugged her eagerly over to where she had left the Blue.

[Lan]

'Shards!' C'lin exclaimed as he awoke after Rukbat's rise. Urgently he threw his sleeping furs off and rummaged around frantically for something suitable for a gather. It seemed like turns had passed before he finally found himself a decent-looking tunic and trousers to adorn for the festivities of the day. Yet, still, he struggled intensely to get them on, hobbling about like a dizzy flit that hadn't hatched but moments before. His antics didn't rouse his drowsy weyrmate until, with a few misplaced hops in an attempt to hurry his trousers on, he tripped unceremoniously over the great black dragon's forelegs.

Sorry, love... C'lin apologized genuinely, slipping his trousers the rest of the way on before standing and giving Reyith's muzzle and soft caress. Reyith's outer eyelid opened lazily and he winked forgivingly at his rider. C'lin had not meant any ill will. With a nudge toward the strewn tunic, the small black beast encouraged the young man to finish getting ready. Realizing again the time, the rider was all but willing to comply. He hurried to get the clothes smoothed over his frame and rubbed his hands over them to loosen what he thought were wrinkles. After a while of his making sure that the clothes he selected fit suitably, and with much encouragement from Reyith, he finally clambered onto the black dragons back and gave instructions to head for the Gather.

As the pair blinked in from between, C'lin could see that the festivities had already started. He grumbled irritably. One thing C'lin could not stand was to miss a single moment at a Gather... particularly one as prominent as this! Perhaps he'd be fashionably late, he thought consolingly to himself, biting hard into his lip to maintain control over a stronger emotional dissatisfaction. A wave of love came strongly from Reyith and he could feel the dragon's comforting presence smoothing every convoluted thought from his mind. The intensity of his bite lessoned. Everything happened for a purpose. Perhaps his late showing to the Gather would have propitious results. As Reyith dove for the open area reserved for landing dragons, C'lin rubbed a loving hand along his partner's neck.

Kalith and Daidoroth. Reyith responded to C'lin's unasked question of who was in attendance as he dropped him off in the square, then gracefully winged his way to a lonely place to sleep. Thank you... enjoy your nap. C'lin looked after the beast fondly and with much admiration. Every time Reyith read his mind so fluently C'lin was intensely reminded of how deep their bond really went. It was a comfort to him, sometimes his only comfort, and if anything were to happen to the little black dragon, he thought, surely he himself would die as well. But he did not wish to think about such things. Today was a Gather. He would dance, be merry, and enjoy himself until not even Reyith would be able to carry him home.

As he made his way toward the Gather stalls he saw a familiar girl dragging a not-so-familiar female of around the same age toward the relaxing dragons. It was the latter person that intrigued him. Her curly mass of hair billowed ever so subtly and hid her face, much to his dismay. She was tall, he noted, which was always interesting for him since he was too of exceptional height. Perhaps, if she danced (and with him), he wouldn't have to lean over so far for a partner.

Silently, and as inconspicuously as possible, he followed them, thanking the First Egg that Reyith had chosen to roost near where they seemed to be heading and he could use his visiting his dragon as an excuse to approach them. Reyith, ever conscious of his partner's mind, was somewhat skeptical of this plan, but too drowsy to make any formal objections.

[/size]

[Lan]

Wake up, would you? An impatient voice pierced through Nim's drowsy mind. Nim rolled over and slowly opened her eyes to see a great, scarlet head placed at a scrutinizing angle toward her. You know, if you keep on going like that, we'll not be at the Gather until it's nearly over! Why do you always have to be so slow? She winced as Waroth's mental projection echoed louder inside her head. To stay another retort from the red dragon, she slipped out from under her sleeping furs and patiently went to look at what she had available for her wardrobe. Satisfied for the moment with her rider's movement, Waroth settled herself to shifting her weight from one side to the other in an odd, disgruntled sort of dance. This presence of being she kept up until Nim had finally dressed herself in proper Gather attire.

Good. That's much better. Might we go now? The red dragoness scuttled over toward the ledge, her muscles twitching in anticipation.

Not until I get your riding saddle on, we won't. Nim replied amiably. She had learned long ago that patience was required when dealing with her hot-headed weyrmate and that it was key for her to maintain a calm, level, and often playful sort of tone. Waroth growled irritably at the delay, but stopped her fretting long enough for Nim to adjust the riding straps. Then, with Nim at the mercy of Waroth's whims, the red dragon launched herself with much strength off of the ledge and took them both between to the Gather.

Almost immediately after the morning air struck Nim's face Waroth began to name the other dragons that were there. She spotted Kalith just as Waroth was rattling off her name. So Fajra was here already? Nim smiled, now confidant she wasn't too early in arriving as to get herself noticed. And perhaps she could speak with the Senior Weyrwoman a bit. Not likely,

[/color] Waroth pointed out where the purple rider was speaking with Fajra. Of course. A Weyrwoman's time was always preoccupied. Nim was almost embarrassed of having for a second not realized that fact. Anxious to slip in with the crowd and do her time at the Gather, for Nim was never one to be comfortable around so many unknown people, she encouraged Waroth to inconspicuously land and let her slip into the festivities without attracting too much notice. However unwilling, the red dragon obliged.

As Waroth winged off to find some other dragons to socialize with after dropping her rider off, Nim slipped into the rows of stalls quickly and silently, then browsed absent-mindedly through the goods that were on sale there. There was an assortment of tanned hides, baked goods, and musical instruments that were being peddled by various stalls. The entire thing was rather exciting. But Nim hated to be in the middle of such crowds. Finding a spot to stand off to the side, Nim surveyed the surrounding people with quiet interest, settling the skirts of her light green dress out of nervous habit.[/blockquote][/size]

[Kila]

“Oh yeah, sorry,” Sol apologized with a sheepish grin when she halted abruptly and caused her unsuspecting friend to bowl into her. She hadn’t realized just how uncoordinated Pratyba was yet. She wasn’t worried about it though- she was sturdy enough that such a bump didn’t faze her in the least.

As Pratyba pulled her hair up and gathered her thoughts for what was sure to be another oral onslaught, Sol reached back and let her hair down. She had had it up in a carless bun when she as in the stall so as not to get any hair in the food she was selling, but now that she was free she preferred to have it down. She shook her head happily, enjoying the feel of her long, blonde curls bouncing against her shoulder. Inhaling a breath of fresh air, she let her head spin in the festive colors around her and her ears buzz with the happy conversation of others. Sol became so caught up in her moment of liberation that she almost forgot she had her friend in tow.

“So you are a candidate!” Sol cried triumphantly as Pratyba reaffirmed the fact. “How could I not be impressed?” she demanded, nonetheless giggling at the pun. She loved really bad jokes (Not good or decent jokes- just the really bad ones). “Who cares if they make you work? You have to do that wherever you are outside of a Weyr too. And I’d say that dragonets are a brilliant way of getting you to do what they want! I mean, what wouldn’t you if they promised you had a chance of that in your near future. Shells, Pratyba, that’s so cool…. Even if you haven’t gotten to stand. Heh, me neither, obviously, so no worries there. And there’s only one other candidate? You have such good chances!”

Few of Sol's friends from Telgar had been chosen to stand, and only a very few had actually impressed, so werylife, as interesting as it was to her, remained a mystery. Being searched and allowed to stand, let alone impress, had never been an option for her, so she hadn’t dwelt on it in many, many turns. Her father was a unjustly proud man, and since he had no riders in his family line, painted weyrfolk as leeches to society who were no longer needed. His children would work with their hands and make their own living, he’d declared! And just as he’s chosen Sol’s vague future, he had specifically condemned her to baking, too.

Sol strained her eyes to see Kalith when Pratyba pointed her out, easily spotting the glowing, majestic creature that dominated the cliffs. With obvious reason, Sol was impressed. Pratyba’s proposition immediately afterward thrilled Sol in an odd, exciting way. “Meet the dragons? Can we do that? Well, yes! Of course I want to!” she cried, her eyes practically dancing with excitement and her whole face alight. “Oveth, you said? Yes, Pratyba, I’d love to meet him! Let’s go!” Without hesitation she took off after the younger girl- so caught up in excitement that she failed to see the main trailing them. She was ready to see some dragons!

[Kila]

Kalith, hello! Good morning to you. It is a lovely day, is it not? Daidoroth replied when the Copper Queen greeted him. As soon as she reached out to greet him, the Bronze’s mood soared, it having already been in fantastic temperament this day. This elation was impossible for O’sho to miss, as it came in great, glowing waves. The Rider only smiled and shook his head, dismounting and patting Daidoroth’s back. The day is yours, my friend. Go get her, Tiger;he said encouragingly. Daidoroth head butted him playfully and gently, fully intending to go spend time with Kalith as he had implied. Stay out of trouble, Own, you are an old man now; Daidoroth teased. Me? Old? Daido, you great thing, how could you say such a thing? I just happen to be turns ahead of all the other riders. Experienced is the term I think you were looking for. Of course; Daidoroth said as he lifted back into the air and headed towards the cliffs.

O’sho allowed his eyes to follow him fondly and then turned to face the Gather. Arms briskly akimbo, he surveyed the square, taking in the sights and sounds of what awaited him. Oh! I forgot to wear those knots again… ah, oh well; he realized and quickly shrugged off as he noticed that shoulders were again bare. Since none but a few of the Riders knew him, he would be masquerading today. The Gather had just acquired a new dimension: one in which he would not be identifiable by rank, dragon, or knots. Deceiving the public; how devious, but what great fun! He did not enjoy being put on a pedestal, only being recognized for his accomplishments when they occurred. People sometimes tended to go overboard.

Wasting no time, he set off into the crowd; mind open to whatever might arise, for he had no plans in mind. He briefly saw a young girl he knew to be a candidate of the Weyr running around with an unidentifiable accomplice in tow. They were gone in a flash, though, and seemed to have some pressing matter which to attend to. Facing back forward, he immediately had to duck to the side to evade bumping into a well-dressed man who was walking in a very set path and seemed as though he would yield to no one. “Excuse me,” he said as he passed, not looking back to make eye contact. Though his words and voice were polite, they were clearly not sincere. Rather than being an actual apology, they were spoken in a hidden sarcastic, self-centered way. “I beg your pardon sir, enjoy the day!” O’sho called to his receding back. Surely this poor fellow needed all the happiness and sincerity he could offer in this light-hearted wish. Rather reminded him of someone….

Continuing his tour of the square, O’sho came upon another young woman, this one standing off to the side. She was playing with her pretty Gather dress nervously, clearly not comfortable in the crowd. As he came closer, O’sho realized that she had on the knots of a Rider, and probably belonged to his own Weyr. She did look familiar. Well, a friendly hello never hurt anyone. “Hello there,” he said as he approached her, waving a friendly hand in greeting. He looked in no way intimidating as he came over to join her briefly, and kept his motions subdued in case she was skittish or shy. He’d know soon enough. “Lovely day for a Gather is it not? I did not mean to disturb you, and I will not take up too much of your time, but are you rider for Dalibor Weyr? You look familiar to me, I thought, and I caught sight of your knots and thought I’d stop by to ask.” He said all this engagingly, very friendly yet obviously respectful. “My name is O’sho,” he said, offering his hand. “I belong to Daidoroth, the big old fellow over there on the cliff. I’m currently in charge of the candidates at the Weyr as well. And you..?”

[Lan]

Nim was far too busy watching the bustling around her of the Gather to notice she had attracted any attention from anyone. Now off in her own little bubble of a world, she had been able to enjoy vicariously the activity of the gather through other people's experiences. There was one woman, likely someone important in the hold by the looks of her, haggling down the price of a particular length of fabric and there was another man chatting up a journeyman smith with a booming laugh that carried over all the other conversations. It was this laughter that had entranced her when, rather suddenly, another voice struck her rather pointedly.

The red rider snapped her head quickly in the direction of the masculine voice and saw the man she knew to be the Candidate Master at Dalibor Weyr. As he continued speaking to her, she was able to drop the runner-struck-by-lightening look in her timid eyes and take up an amiable smile. 'Lovely day for a Gather is it not? I did not mean to disturb you, and I will not take up too much of your time...' As he spoke Nim surveyed him politely. He was not an unhandsome man, despite his obvious turns. And he had uncanny, intriguing eyes. The way he spoke, while at first startling her, eventually lulled her into some sense of comfort and she smiled wider as he offered his hand and his name.

'Nim,' She began, her voice soft so that it could scarcely be heard above the festivities, 'I'm the possession of Waroth, also at Dalibor Weyr. And, yes, I believe we have seen each other around before.' As she took his hand, she gave a firm handshake that betrayed more inner strength than what was shown through her exterior. Yet, she also drew her hand away quickly, as if physical contact with others was not something she was entirely accustomed to. 'You are not disturbing me, nor taking up "too much of my time". Gathers are always... difficult... things for me. It's nice to have pleasant company.'

Even as she spoke, her eyes would become unfocused occasionally to check up on the possessive Waroth. The red dragon always grew jealous of Nim's encounters with other people, particularly with riders of the opposite gender. Yet Waroth seemed to be enjoying her own time with the other dragons, too busy to pay Nim or whomever she was talking to any attention. For this Nim was grateful and as she retreated back into her own mind her smile grew more confidant.

'It is nice to meet you, O'sho,' Nim hurried, blushing at realizing the belated formality. Then, in an attempt to continue the conversation (a rare commodity for her), she added, 'Did you have anything particular you wished to attend to at the Gather? Or do you come to enjoy the festivities in general?'

[4horseshowgirl4]

Pratyba continued to dash through the crowd, weaving expertly through flying elbows and impossibly large trays of assorted goods. She only bumped a few people in the sides, receiving only a couple strings of curses at her back. By the First Egg, the people were as packed here as redfruit in a pie now, weren't they? Was there anybody who wasn't at the Gather? Pushing off heartily with her feet, Pratyba leaped into the air suddenly, straining to see over everyone's head. Mercifully, she caught a glimpse of blue hide through the small patch of open air her jump had allotted her, hide that could only belong to a dragon.

"Aww, thanks!" she cooed to Sol before grabbing her new friend by the arm roughly and altering their course slightly, ducking behind a final row of stalls. "Don't you start saying anything about my good chances, though! It doesn't matter how many Candidates are there! The only thing that matters is if your dragon has been shelled or not! There could be two or two hundred Candidates, but my dragon will still find me, if there is one!" she paused for a moment to catch her breath. "Sorry for that downer! Being a Candidate is awesome, you're right. Faranth! You should come back to the Weyr with me! I'd bet that they'd pick you to Stand!" She turned her head over her shoulder to grin wickedly at Sol. What a proposition! She hadn't even thought about that earlier! But, Pratyba knew instantly that Sol would be more than welcome at Dalibor. She could easily be a Dragonrider! Actually, Sol's chances were probably better than her own, Pratyba thought without the slightest hint of self-depreciation.

Pratyba jogged off towards the large blue, orange, and black lumps that were Oveth, Reyith, and a dragon that she didn't know. The Orange dwarfed the two males, and Pratyba was curious as to who she was. She must be a new transfer! Pratyba's pace increased slightly. Orange... Orange... she'd heard of that color before! It took only one more glance at the dragoness's size to remember that Orange was one of the Sub-Queen colors.

As she approached the dragons,-- shells, why did they have to choose a place to lie that was so far away from everything?-- Pratyba thought it rather ironic that she was visiting a Hold for one of the few times in her life, and she was visiting it at its time of greatest excitement, and she was still running back to the dragons. She was a Weyrbrat through and through, which was fortunate, as she doubted that her exuberant behavior would hardly be tolerated as it was at Dalibor. She couldn't help but wonder what Sol's holdlife was like; but there was hardly time to ask questions now, when she was supposed to be a good friend and introduce her to the dragons!

"Oveth!" she squealed merrily, dashing forward to stroke the Blue's well-muscled shoulder. "Sol, you can come here, he won't bite! This is Oveth!" She loved the feel of the dragonhide underneath her tanned palm. It was smooth and supple, and no Threadscore marred the hide of these dragons as of yet. Pratyba didn't give the idea of Thread much thought, as no one was entirely sure when it was returning, if it was returning at all. Of course, the people of Dalibor were certain of its inevitability, but she knew that many holdfolk and crafters were dubious, as they would be until it fell again. She ran her hand over Oveth's shoulder again, any depressing thoughts of coming destruction falling away from the steady warmth that the dragon, as any dragon, provided her. Seeing the sheer size and strength of these creatures made it hard to believe that anything could threaten Pern.

[Kila]

Pratyba grabbed Sol’s arm and put her in the right direction and the two continued to run. Why were they running? For the sake of running of course! There was no hurry to reach to dragons other than the fact that they had both been easily filled with excitement. It wasn’t only the aggressiveness of their physical activity, then, that was causing her heart to thud so rapidly in her bosom. It took a while for Sol to even realize that she was so excited- and something more. Nervous? No, never! And yet she continued on with a growing, anticipatory apprehension.

“Come back to the Weyr with you?” she echoed in an airy, disbelieving exhale when Pratyba suggested it. “You really think they’d pick me to stand?” She contemplated this for a few moments and then shook her head with a laugh, sending her curls bouncing in every which direction. “No way, Pratyba, they’d never allow that. I’m foredoomed to be a Baker, remember? My father would never allow it;” but as she spoke it her grin grew wider and mischief sparkled in her eyes. “No, he’d never allow it. He would be SO angry- can you even imagine? HA! He’d be practically fit to burst! He thinks riders are useless, you know; thinks Thread will never return. He won’t believe it until it falls from the sky and devours him alive, the wherry-brained fool! He says Weyrs are leaches to society and they should do their own sharding work. So, I’ve never made such hopes for myself; I won’t let such daydreams so easily get lodged in my head, my friend. Oh-!”

Sol abruptly ceased her roasting as they broke free of the crowds and moved towards the now easily visible, large, lounging forms. A few steps closer and it would be the closest she’d ever been to a dragon. It was obviously not the case for Pratyba, who quickly closed the distance and ran straight up to one of the massive forms. It was a Blue, and his closest companions were an Orange and a Black. Farther up on the cliff, she noted, were the largest of them all- a Copper and a Bronze. Kerath; she recalled, having remembered hearing the name of the Weyrwoman’s Copper Queen. But she and the Bronze were obviously not here to solicitate with Holdfolk.

"Sol, you can come here, he won't bite! This is Oveth!" she heard Pratyba shout. Speeding her strides from when she had momentarily hesitated as they grew close, wary to offend a rider by harassing their lifemate, Sol came up behind Pratyba, surveying Oveth with awe. “Hello, Oveth!” she beamed, her moment of trepidation over. “I’m Sol, it’s nice to meet you.” This was so exciting! Sol was no fool, she knew that dragons were capable of thought, emotion, and offense, so it would be rude of her not to introduce herself and just go on gaping at him like a dumb beast. “Gosh, he’s big, Pratyba…. What does he feel like?” she asked, watching the other girl stroke his hide with care.

[Admin]

Time is gonna take my mind
and carry it far away where I can fly,
The depth of life will dim my temptation to live for you,
If I were to be alone silence would rock my tears,
'cause it's all about love and I know better,
How life is a waving feather.

Fajra gave him a piercing, subtly confused look when he asked if she needed anything done. She quickly composed her expression though, making sure she wasn't showing him anything that he didn't need to say. "No, nothing that you need to worry about. I just have my usual weyrwoman stuff, and things to do with Kalith's flight and the hatching we should be having soon enough;" she assured him, matching his confidence with her own. There was nothing she was busy with that she wanted the purplerider to deal with. He didn't even rank high enough to handle the political type of affairs that she needed to do for transfers and searching; he didn't even need to know about her problems with O'sho. Anyway, she wasn't interested in sharing any of her tasks or problems with him. Even if she knew him better, it was doubtful that she would.

Looking up when she saw flashes of dragons in the air, she spied first Reyith and then Waroth arriving. She had other people to be talking to than W'al, though she was sure he would be more enjoyable than most of those, since she was enjoying talking to him at least a little. Another draconic creature popped out of between but he was lower to the ground, much smaller, and headed straight for her. Afzal chattered at her as he came to hover above her shoulder. How could she have left him asleep and come here earlier? Giving his head a stroke, she soothed him by remaining utterly placid to his protests and convinced him that landing on her shoulder would be the best option. "I need to be going, as Afzal is reminding me of now. I have matters to attend to;" she said to excuse herself from W'al. On her shoulder, the bronze firelizard chirped both a greeting and a farewell to the purplerider and then rubbed his face against Fajra's adorably.

Up on the heights, Kalith watched as Reyith and Waroth arrived; she knew the red very well, being that her rider was a wingsecond for hers, and bugled a greeting as she came to rest over where most of the dragons lay. After that, she lowered her head to look at Kerath, and then over to Daidoroth, who was flying over towards the cliffs, as they both spoke to her in reply to her greetings. The glimmering, copper Queen looked just a little smug as she sat high up on the cliffs, above everyone else, and looked down upon the King and close to King. They were hers; all of this was her and it made her very confident feeling. She hunched up her shoulder and peered down at them with a cat-like expression.

Yes, it is a lovely day, as one would expect for a gathering, Daidoroth; she replied to the bronze and his comment about the fairness of the day. She eyed him and Kerath with her ever watching, all seeing eyes. They were intriguing, interesting, at least for the moment. And how are the two of you today? Have you met before? It was almost utterly apparent that she was interested in how the two of them would act around each other. They were her pawns, her minions! Well, not really, they were suitors, which were close enough for her in her mind. When she'd talked with Daidoroth before, there had been some flirting; it was on her mind of late and she enjoyed having her fun while her rider was off doing what she did. Adjusting her wings, she moved to better catch the sun. She also enjoyed getting some good sunning in while she had her fun.

My eyes are on you they're on you,
And you see that I can't stop shaking,
No, I won't step back but I'll look down to hide from your eyes,
'cause what I feel is so sweet and I'm scared that even my own breath,
Oh could burst it if it were a bubble,
And I'd better dream if I have to struggle.

[Admin]

Oh now I do recall, we were just getting to the part
Where the shock sets in, and the stomach acid finds a new way to make you get sick.
I hope you didn't expect that you'd get all of the attention.
Now let's not get selfish
Did you really think I’d let you kill this chorus?

P'nay, MineOwn, dearest heart, I really think that you should get out of bed now; Annith murmured gently to her rider, poking her nose into the door and sniffing at him as she strained to see into the dark room at the odd angle that placed her eyes at in comparison to him. As she blew hot breath over him, her rider drew his pillow over his head and turned away from her. I thought you liked gathers, love. I mean, I know you like sleep to, and it's very good for you, but I thought it would be good for us to go make friends; the yellow chattered to him and gave him a couple more sniffs. This time, the breaths made his actually sit up in his bed, short hair messy somehow.

Gather?
Yes. At Crescent Hold. It's . . .
Shards and shells.
Mine, language.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, Ann. P'nay was rolling out of bed now, grabbing at his clothes as he fell onto the floor. Picking himself up onto his feet, he grabbed a clean white shirt and pressed wherhide pants. Mixing shoving himself into the loose clothing, he worked on straightening out his mixed colored hair.
Anyway, the gather . . .
Thanks for waking me up, dear.
You're welcome, Mine.
Grabbing a wherhide jacket with his knots on it, he slipped it over his shirt and started for the entrance, which spurred his dragon to move her nose so he could get past. It was then that he realized he didn't have boots. Grabbing socks and his nice pair, he hopped out of his room while putting them on. He hopped onto lightly built Annith's back without a care for riding straps and settled himself. Once she was absolutely sure he was comfortable and wouldn't fall off, she raced to the edge of the weyr and was airborne in a flash of almost white yellow wings. Quick and agile, she rose, and once they were more than high enough, she popped into between.

Emerging over the bustling and brightly decorated hold, P'nay grinned and held onto Annith as she descended, bugling a sweet call to all the other dragons below. Hello Kalith, Daidoroth, Vhrenth, Waroth, Kerath, Oveth, Reyith she chorused, flawlessly saying all their names in order of rank to keep from anyone from possibly being offended. It made him proud to listen to her and cling to her as she descended well and landed near the cliffs, just to the side of the main part of the gathering. Giving her a pat, he swung of her back and onto the ground.

Oh, how he loved gatherings; he was so happy that Annith that had woken him. He was more than happy to show up fashionably late, or even later than that, but this wasn't the sort of thing that he wanted to miss. Who would want to miss a day full of good food, dancing, merriment, fun, and pretty woman? He would add pretty men (or handsome, he supposed, but he had always thought of them as pretty) but holds didn't tend to have the sort of openness about that Weyrs did. So, girls would do . . . As he struck onto the crowd with such things rolling on his mind, he could almost hear Annith sigh behind him. However, her momentary resignation to what he was doing faded as she went to find a perch of the cliffs.

As he walked into the crowd, his attention fell onto male, despite attempting to find a suitable female to leech onto first, walking straight towards him, though he seemed to be staring at someone else. Stocky, tall, dark brown hair, cute; it was like a VTOLS to the flame. P'nay could resist slipping towards the crowd and coming up behind C'lin and then tapping him on the shoulder. The tall, strong but lanky young rider was beaming his most charming smile.

"Hello, beautiful. I'm P'nay; he introduced himself to the person who was going to be his new friend whether they wanted to be or not. It was forward, and part of him made a sarcastic comment about that, but that was who he liked to be - the confident boy with the winning smile. Though he wouldn't tell you it, he had picked out this outfit because it did make him look pretty good. He was reasonable with fashion and willing to put in the effort to make himself feel better about himself. Of course, it had been mentioned by others before that he looked pretty good in general.

Let's get these teen hearts beating. Faster, faster
So testosterone boys and harlequin girls,
Will you dance to this beat, and hold a lover close?
So testosterone boys and harlequin girls,
Will you dance to this beat, and hold a lover close?

[Kila]

“Nim. I am pleased to meet your accquaintence,” O’sho said. With her introduction she took his offered hand and shook it in greeting. Though her voice was soft and small, the firmness of her grasp betrayed something greater. Even if she didn’t look like much, this rider had the inner strength to be a valuable asset to the Weyr. He smiled, pleased. Even so, the contact did not last long, and Nim quickly pulled away. It had been a brief formality, but very informing. He wondered why she was so timid about the contact…

Following her gaze from earlier to where she had indicated her Waroth to be, O’sho quickly garnered a possible explanation. “Oh? You’re a Red Rider. How wonderful! Reds are fantastic specimens- I admire their energy and passion greatly,” he mused, reaching his hand to his face and stroking his beard, elbow resting in the opposing hand as he gazed at Waroth. “Is it that Gathers can prove to be difficult for you because of your very Own?” he ventured to guess. “I do hope my company does not incite a difficult time for you,” he continued merrily, not very worried about it. “Jealousy is easily tempered when one is occupied with other things.” He was conscious enough of details to note the occasional shift to distance in her eyes.

“And as you asked, no, I haven’t any particular plans for the day,” O’sho replied after her delay and jump to conversation. A grin lingered at the corner of his mouth; it didn’t bother him. “Daidoroth and I delight in attending Gathers. Each one holds something new to find. What that may be for this particular festivity, I do not know, but I’m sure I will stumble upon it at some point during the day. It’s also the duty of our Riders, almost, to come and make a good impression. I’m sure the holdfolk are quietly looking for reassurance that they will be well protected in turns to come. I should quite like to be able to meet the people I will be working with and protecting. And you, Nim? What are your plans for this day?”

Daidoroth slowed his glide and landed solidly on the edge of a protruding cliff a dragonlength or so below Kalith. He would not be so bold as to rest beside her as of yet. Besides, she was his Queen and it seemed right that she be on a high throne. I am doing quite well today, thank you. And I hope you are in good spirits as well. Daidoroth could match her eloquence only from years of hearing his rider speak. Matching her in too many aspects he thought would be a dangerous thing. To match a few would be intriguing, but to try to outdo the Copper would be foolish. He would surely think twice about matching her tone again after their last conversation.

No, I have not yet met Kerath; Daidoroth easily confessed as he carefully settled himself, spreading his massive wingspan to its fullest before folding his wings carefully to his back. Swinging his head so that his swirling eyes faced the direction of the Purple, he regarded him with intrigue before speaking. Kerath, hello. I am Daidoroth, and MineOwn is O’sho. Under what wing will you and Yours be flying? I and Mine lead the Dawn Wing. The Bronze’s salutations were friendly and polite, but he had made sure to clarify his status above him. He did not feel threatened by Kerath, though if he ever would it would be in light of Kalith’s presence, but he did want to rule out any thoughts of competition. His interests lay in speaking more with Kalith, but the whole day was ahead of him and he let the promise of time grant him patience.

[Lan]

Reyith watched his partner with a sleepy, half-lidded eye as a yellow dragon and her rider burst into the air above. It was Annith, as pleasant a dragon as he had ever met and one could almost see a smirk etched in his jaw as she greeted him amiably. Yet, all the same, she was a talkative one. And he, being the solitary black dragon that he was, was rarely in the mood to converse at any length. He hummed both audibly and with his mind at respect for the pleasant greeting, his way of saying hello back, but reached no farther into the yellow dragon's mind than that.

C'lin, meanwhile, had nearly stalked the two girls, for surely that was what he was doing, to their ultimate destination when he was interrupted by a forceful tap on his shoulder. Now... that really set him off. He halted rather abruptly and blinked with such force as if by showing such a feat of strength he could make the unruly intruder go away. Alas, it was in vain, for not long afterward a masculine voice, coming from about his height, reached his ears like a cry of a newborn dragonet.

'Hello, beautiful. I'm P'nay.'

All it took was one look at the tall, fit young man to make C'lin catch his breath. Any animosity he had for his desperate search was interrupted, cut off, and thrown to the wherries. This lad was... well, he had to put it, attractive. And he had an arrogance and forthrightness to match that, while on one hand was irritating, at this particular moment lulled C'lin into a firm sense of confidence. What had he said? Hello... beautiful? With a compliment such as that, he couldn't resist the urge to get to know this strange rider better. Annith's. Reyith offered helpfully.

'C'lin.' He grinned cheekily, raising his eyebrow in amusement at the other's greeting and unwittingly giving him a glance-over as he spoke. 'And you're not so bad yourself.'

While he was all smiles outwardly, on the inside C'lin began to reel. Wait... so he admitted that the other man was attractive. Did that mean he...? Again he began the internal struggle that had plagued him since even before he had joined the ranks of dragonriders. His mind began to twist in knots, while ironically his stomach remained just fine. Why did he feel this way? As the question echoed intensely through his head another presence consumed the space to stop it dead in its tracks. Reyith's comforting mind pushed softly against and mingled with C'lin's, producing a feeling of safety and warmth. Reyith loved him. Reyith would always love him. Yet why did he feel so... dirty? Mine own... do not worry, The voice that came so rarely resounded in his head like a delicate instrument, Love is good for you. And with that last statement his partner began to slip into dreams. There would be no arguments today. C'lin would just go with it.

'So...' C'lin's charm matched P'nay's own as he also flashed a smile full of confidence and other amiable traits, 'Being as I was fashionably late this morning, I've yet to get a good look around. Shall we walk?' Pushing prior discontented thoughts aside, C'lin gestured with his arm for P'nay to proceed him. Yet he also let his arm suspend there longer than was necessary, almost as if inviting the other rider to interweave his own arm through it. If anything, it would definitely make quite a show for the pious holders and give C'lin a good laugh to see the responses on their peers' faces.

[Lan]

Nim couldn't help but wince at O'sho's explosion about her being a redrider, which she could only assume was meant to be an encouragement. Being a redrider, in her experience, wasn't particularly a wonderful thing at all. Yet, at the idea of her Waroth being called a specimen, the redheaded Nim took a new feeling of indignation. Waroth was a real, living being. She was not a specimen, not some sort of herder experiment, and was definitely nothing less than the proud dragoness she constantly exclaimed herself to be. For a moment Nim wondered if it would be a curse to have this man as an acquaintance for this Gather.

Yet his conversation took a more sympathetic turn as he explained that he hoped he would incite the jealousy and wrath of her own. As he further restated the fact that Waroth's preoccupation with the other dragons would stay any envy she could have of Nim's own acquaintances, she began to warm up to him again. He did talk a great deal more than her, but talkers always comforted Nim, who was a listener and patient ear by nature. She kept her attention rooted firmly on him as he spoke, her body language revealing that she really was paying her full attention on their conversation without her mind wandering to other places.

'And as you asked, no, I haven’t any particular plans for the day,' He began, speaking fluently for a few breaths before then posing a question Nim really should have seen coming: 'And you, Nim? What are your plans for this day?' She might as well have fallen off a runnerbeast.

'Well...' She began timidly, staring at her feet in an awkward, subservient manner, 'I never really have much to do at Gathers... as you might have guessed... so my plans are actually rather nonexistant... as I've not ever had opportunity to make any...' The redrider then began to pick at her fingernails as her already soft voice trailed off into silent nothingness. How ridiculous she must sound! To not have enjoyed a Gather since the day that one ironrider changed her life... and to have not enjoyed one before then? Even that one memory was soured by the strange turn of events that had led to what her life was at this day. At times she couldn't even recall it. Why remember now?

Waroth responded to Kalith's bugle with a respectful trumpet of her own. She actually was fond of Kalith and through their bond of being in the same wing they had grown to be somewhat close. Most importantly, Waroth respected Kalith and listened to and obeyed her more intently than any other dragon on Pern. As she settled comfortably onto the ledge with the other dragons another lesser female dragon popped into the sky, sending fond greetings to every dragon without fail. It was a little yellow... and an annoyingly cheery one at that. What was the flit's name again? Annith. Waroth wished she didn't remember.

The red dragon raised her head curtly in greeting at the bloody ray of sunshine and watched her with as much disinterest as she could muster as she dropped off her charge on the Gather grounds before taking off again. Yellow dragons weren't even fighting dragons... and thus rather useless in Waroth's opinion. And it was exactly that opinion she enjoyed to make known. What could be gained from their existence? Their cheeriness vexed her greatly, they weren't as fast as the pinks or the greens, and they didn't lay as many eggs as the higher ranking Queens and SubQueens. With a dissatisfied snort, Waroth lay her great head on her forepaws and continued to watch where the little yellow devil went.

[4horseshowgirl4]

Just as the small group of dragons was painfully obvious from within the crowd, so was the breaking away of the horde of people by two young women rather conspicuous to those waiting outside. B'nyur was the first to notice them coming their way. The Healer was leaning easily against Oveth's broad chest, rather appreciating how one of the dragon's many hearts beat soothingly against B'nyur's back. B'nyur was rather tall and the Blue, somewhat small even for his color, and the 'Rider's head fell just against where the bottom of the dragon's neck stretched upward and away from the chest. B'nyur had spent many hours just appreciating the elegance and grace of Oveth's anatomy, admiring the flawless way the systems worked together as only a Dragonhealer could.

However, he was forced to forgo his carefree lounging as one of the two sprinted ever nearer. He had to at least observe some of the social niceties, even if he preferred the other dragons' and 'Riders' company to that of the holdfolk. B'nyur straightened up with the air of lazy reluctance, and Oveth, who was rather entranced by Vhreth's strange coloring and beauty, also took note of B'nyur's sudden stirring. The dragon unwillingly turned his attention from Vhreth to see what had caused B'nyur to move from his comforting spot against Oveth's chest. He, too, saw the Candidate and the Baker, and immediately recognized the former as the one that he had ferried over this morning.

It's the cheerful Candidate, Mine, and she has a friend! The friend's not from a Weyr, though. What was her name... Pratyda? Although Oveth's misplaced phrases made his speech somewhat confusing, B'nyur understood him perfectly. {Pratyba} he corrected. It was a tribute to dragons' incredibly sensory abilities that Oveth had already picked out the details of the two and remembered the one he had met this morning, while B'nyur had barely been able to tell their genders and approximate ages. {I noticed that she wasn't from a Weyr-- see how she's hesitating? Few Weyrbrats would act so frightened around a few lounging dragons.}

It wasn't long before Pratyba dashed up to the pair and hastily began to pet Oveth. "Goodness, girl! At least greet the 'Rider or warn the dragon before you just run up!" B'nyur scolded teasingly, though both of them knew perfectly well that Oveth didn't mind in the slightest. In fact, the Blue turned his large head around and snorted warm breath onto Pratyba's neck in greeting, happy for the attention. Hello, Pratyba, and Pratyba's friend! he told both of them cheerily. B'nyur smiled slightly; his dragon adored girls, as they were always the most willing to spoil a kind dragon with their pettings and treats. Thankfully, B'nyur confiscated most of the goodies before Oveth had a chance to inhale them-- what was acceptable to give to flitters wasn't the right nutrition for a fighting dragon. B'nyur stood carefully by in case this was about to happen again. Anybody could smell the rich scent of baked goods that hung like some lovely curtain over both the Candidate and the Baker.

"You can pet Oveth," B'nyur said warmly to the cautious holdfolk. "He's sweet as can be for a dragon. Don't do what Pratyba just did to any other dragon, though!" His tone was kind, but there was no mistaking the warning in his voice. Dragons' sheer size kept most from getting too close, but these two were just kids, and they didn't always have their wits about them.

"I'm B'nyur, by the way, Journeyman Dragonhealer at Dalibor Weyr and the 'Rider of this guy here," he said, patting Oveth's shoulder affectionately. Oveth very gently rested the tip of his muzzle on B'nyur's head to make sure that neither of the two youngsters got any ideas about stealing his B'nyur from him. "And, if you think Oveth's big, you have another thing coming! Blues don't even run at middle of the pack when it comes to size!"

[Admin]

Back to the street,
Down to our feet,
Losing the feeling of feeling unique,
Do you know what I mean?

P'nay was very good at noticing others body language; all it took was a little practice and plenty of time spent making other people either mildly uncomfortable or amused. So, he did at least think that his new friend have been glancing him over in possibly suggestive and appreciative way as he introduced himself. Oh, this was going to be good. He was quite enamored with the smug smile that this fine young man had, and it would appear that he was a rider, given that his name was C'lin. "Ooh, so complimentary. How charming;" he replied to the blackrider's comment about his own appearance. Now that he was closer and facing him, he let his eyes take a few more glances over C'lin - roughly his own age, lovely green eyes, unruly brown hair in the most fine way, and a strong jawline. This was so going to be one his lucky days.

That charming smile never faltered on his face; it only grew with confidence as he became more and more sure that this was going well. "If you were fashionably late, what was I? Unfashionably late? Because, buddy, I am so in fashion;" he replied to C'lin and then chuckled. Noting the pause in the attractive male's gesture, he leaped at the opportunity. Well, 'leaped' isn't really the best way to describe how he acted. Seeing the arm hanging in the air for a moment, he slipped flawlessly forward and intertwined his own with it. He pressed that side of his body that was now beside C'lin against the other rider gently, enjoying the physical contact of it. Right beside someone who seemed to be enjoying his company, he didn't feel alone. The people in his past, which always weighed heavy on him, could be ignored if he had someone new to learn of.

"Either way, I'd be more than happy to walk with you;" he whispered in the blackrider's ear, smile turning just a little devilish and playful now. Ever so gently, he started forward into the crowd, pulling C'lin along with him. He could feels eyes on them; same sex relationships were less approved of by holder's. In a Weyr, no one cared what gender the person you were with was, especially since dragons were often involved in the decisions and they weren't going to care if their mate was ridden by a person that was the opposite gender of their rider. So, he just kept smile and acting like it didn't get to him. One would think that it really should, since he knew that it wasn't wrong, but he couldn't keep himself from caring at some level about those looks. It was just that silly part of him that cared about everything; he couldn't keep it from lurking in him.

Up where the dragons were roosting, Annith had found the dragon of the rider Hers was talking to. Unfortunately, he appeared to be asleep. Perfectly appeared to wait to get to know the lifemate of the person that P'nay had found to court for the day, she settled down in front of him and set her head right in front of the black's. She was placid as could be, though every intent on watching him. Yes, she did enjoy talking, but she was more than capable of waiting when it was necessary. She was very good with most social skills that didn't involve confrontation or fighting, though she wasn't as physically capable in many ways. Recalling that Reyith had greeted her with a hum, she absentmindedly started to hum one of the little melodies her rider sometimes did. They sounded nice.

Back to the street, back to the place,
Back the room where it all began,
Back to the street, back to the place,
Back the room where it all began.

[4horseshowgirl4]

"Who's they?" Pratyba laughed. "The only 'they' that matters in a Search are the dragons! They could hardly care less what you were 'condemned' to do! Besides, even if you weren't Searched, the Weyr needs Bakers, too! Faranth knows that Dalibor certainly does!" Pratyba pulled a face to exaggerate the lack of sweets other than the usual spicerolls from which the Weyr suffered. Or, to put it more accurately, the lack of sweets from which Pratyba suffered. Sugar had a, well... rather adverse effect on Pratyba, worsening her already incredible inability to sit still. Most of the kitchen workers guarded it from her when they could, using the pretense that she was a Candidate now and needed to eat real food to build up her strength and shed her excess pounds.

"Okay, okay, enough!" Pratyba protested good-naturedly. "It sure sounds like you're only trying to convince yourself that you wouldn't be Searched by talking a mile a minute! By the first egg! And they say I talk a lot! Hey, B'nyur, what can you prescribe for verbal diarrhea?" The potentially embarrassing comment for both parties escaped from Pratyba's mouth without a second thought, and she managed not to notice that either of the two, neither of which she knew well, could find it more offensive than funny.

Still, despite her interruption, she couldn't help but agree with Sol on one thing. "Oh, he would be mad!" she dissolved into yet another bout of the giggles. "I would pay marks to see his face when you head out with me!" Her choice of the word 'when' rather than 'if' was deliberate; Sol was already doing her best to deny that becoming a Candidate or even a Weyr crafter was beyond any realm of possibilty. Pratyba intended to change her mindset, if she could. It wasn't hard to tell that Sol would far prefer the greater freedoms of weyrlife over the restrictions of holdlife for women her age! Pratyba could easily see the older girl as a Candidate. In the very least, she was more likely to Impress than Pratyba was!

She turned from Sol to the Dragonhealer. "But, B'nyur, what's Oveth going to do, eat me?" she laughed again at the very thought of the gentle dragon even laying teeth on a human. She rubbed his leg again, about as far up him as she could reach. "Ooh, what a scary dragon! I'm so scared! He's going to eat me, right after he has Sol here for an appetizer!" Her voice was laced with light-toned sarcasm, but her smile would have revealed her real thoughts about Oveth even if her words had been dead serious. Giggling jovially again, Pratyba couldn't help but be happy when Oveth snorted on her, though it made the skin on the back of her neck prickle.

"Why should I tell you what he feels like, Sol? Come pet him yourself!" With that, she snatched at Sol's hand, intending for the other's palm to revel in the softness of Oveth's hide for itself. "So, what do you think of dragons, Sol? Not so scary any more, are they? Wouldn't it be simply amazing to Impress one? I mean, it's like all the love of friends and family rolled up into one majestic creature. Fighting Thread can't be fun, but at least it's an adventure! Wouldn't it be great if we were Weyrling buddies? Oh, but I forgot, you don't want to go to the Weyr, do you?" Pratyba's tone turned from lighthearted to questioning in a flash. "You don't dare to dream that high?"

Still, it was a ploy to simply get Sol to admit to herself that she would rather do anything but remain here for the rest of her days, living unhappily as a Baker. Pratyba herself had a happiness that could hardly be contained.

Friends and dragons, and a bellyful of sweet food. What more did anyone need?

[/font]

[Lan]

'If you were fashionably late, what was I? Unfashionably late? Because, buddy, I am so in fashion,' It was all C'lin could do to keep from cracking up laughing. How had he not met this P'nay before? Clearly they were kindred spirits, judging by that last comment. He held back a witty retort, deciding it best not to joke around with his new friend too much yet. After all, they had only just met. It was better to let people have a taste of his humor at a time, or so he had found in his prior meetings.

As P'nay slipped his arm right in to his and pressed against his side, C'lin couldn't help but enjoy the physical contact of the warm body next to his. It felt so... right. And it didn't hurt that P'nay was nearly his height. Perhaps they should dance together tonight? That would really get the crowds going. The yellowrider looked as if he could keep up with him as far as physical endurance. Well, C'lin thought with an air of satisfaction, he couldn't have picked a better partner for the day's festivities. In fact, C'lin hadn't picked him at all! P'nay had found him!

The blackrider grinned like a boy again as P'nay sweet words tickled against his ear. He glanced over, looking into impish hazel eyes and not able to help but beam foolishly. The yellowrider began to pull them forward through the crowd, and C'lin was more than happy to let him lead the way -for now. Ironically enough, as they proceeded through the crowds and masses of the gather, he had little awareness of the stares he had so looked forward to mocking. Almost all of his attention was being poured into this new acquaintance, this new attraction he had acquired. From the way their arms touched to the radiating warmth of P'nay's torso when it gently pressed against his, C'lin tried to read as much as he could by the man's actions as he could by his words.

'And a little more than that, I'd imagine,' C'lin whispered back into his attendee's ear, returning the favor that had been given to him. Now was the blackrider's turn to be devilish, showing off his humor, reading his partner's intentions, and inadvertently putting forward his own in one little statement. Again his insides began to twist. If it felt so right, then why did it seem so wrong to think of P'nay like that? It was only natural, was it not? The thought of what Reyith would say and his enthusiasm for the day helped C'lin smother such antipathetic feelings down until they were nonexistent. With a dangerous gleam in his eye and a toothy grin, he then took the lead from his new friend and led the way toward the Gather stalls.

Reyith was roused by the dull thud of another dragon resting in front of him. Yet, except for a twitch of his eyelid, he didn't move. Then he could sense the presence of something right in front of his face. Warm breath from another dragon, that Reyith could sense was larger, tickled his nose and the black dragon sniffled unconsciously. His eyelids twitched again, and then opened slowly. There he beheld a yellow dragon, her eyes aimed directly at him. His own swirled a calm blue. He was not perturbed at all at having been awakened. Quite the opposite. While he may be a bit of a loner, he wouldn't reject the occasional pleasant visitor.

This was Annith, he knew, the dragon that belonged to the rider his beloved was currently in the company of. Perhaps it would be pertinent for himself to share the company of said rider's dragon? Apparently Annith had found it to be so. For a long while Reyith stared calmly into the eyes of the other dragon. She had started to hum shortly before he had opened his eyes, and he had to conclude that it was rather charming. After a few bars he added his own harmony to her melody, and the music the two of them made together soothed any uneasiness he may have had about sharing his time with someone other than C'lin. Yet, still, he didn't speak. He let the notes he added to her song speak for themselves.

[Admin]

Swear to shake it up, if you swear to listen,
Oh, we're still so young, desperate for attention,
I aim to be your eyes, trophy boys, trophy wives.

P'nay effected to be hurt when C'lin whispered in his ear about his intentions even though feeling his sweet breath against his ear made him feel just a bit tingly. Flirty, attractive, smart enough to make good guesses; C'lin seemed to be the perfect guy for him, at least it did at that moment. Of course, his opinion on the matter might have been a bit clouded by the fact that he had the said person pressed up right next to him, murmuring mildly proactive statements in his ear. That didn't keep him from being able to retort and feign fake innocence, of course. "Do you doubt my virtue, my good intentions, and my honor? I feel so hurt;" he said very theatrically, murmuring it back into C'lin's ear with the most pitifully wounded expression that he could manage. He had no intention of actually suggesting anything of the sort that the blackrider's comment did until they knew each other a little better. It was true that he had some honor, of his own sort though.

Despite trying to act like a kicked puppy, he couldn't help but grin as C'lin took the lead and started to pull him towards the Gather stalls. Still acutely aware of the looks they were getting, he came to a realization. For all anyone knew, they were just very good friends who'd perhaps not seen each other for a while, or a pair of people who had already managed to get drunk, though they walked a bit straight and sure for that. Though part of didn't like it, he couldn't help but set out to make sure that everyone knew exactly what C'lin and he where. He wasn't exactly sure a good word would be to describe that was but he still knew how to set the record straight for anyone watching them. Out of the corner of his eye, he just watched his pretty new friend for a moment though, just waiting to actually make another move. They seemed to be taking turns with who got to be in the lead and it was the blackrider's turn, in his mind anyway and he was sure he wasn't thinking quite straight. He was rarely ever thinking quite straight, it seemed, but he was sure that the current situation made it worse.

Once they were even deeper into the crowd, he suddenly leaned his head over and kissed C'lin on the cheek but he made sure to breath over the skin as he pulled away from the action. Oh, he had been so right to accuse the flirty yellowrider of having intentions for more than just walking, but he'd had his fun pretending to be shocked by the idea. His smile was a mixture of charming, devilish, smug, and winning but somehow just gave off each element crystal clear. It was his specialty, knowing how to smile to portray just how he wanted to be seen. After giving C'lin the little kiss, P'nay took the lead again, picking up the pace and sniffing at the air to pick the way that he wanted to go. As he smelled the delicious odors that drifted from the stalls selling food, his belly gave a rumble. He'd been asleep a long time last night and hadn't had any breakfast; food sounded good to both him and his belly right then.

"Mind if we get some lunch?" It seemed polite to ask C'lin, and, though he didn't always care about that, it just seemed liked the right thing to do. It was growing later into the day, though he wasn't quite sure exactly what time it was. However, the sun seemed to be at the right angle for it to be about midday and time for lunch rather than breakfast. Either way, he was leaning towards bubbly pies. They were the epitome of gathering foods.

Annith beamed a draconic smile when Reyith seemed to make and then soon joined her song. Despite being bigger than him, their voices were much the same; her light frame was not one for producing great volume or a deep sound. After continuing the song until she rang out of anything to add, she stopped, and then paused for a moment with her eyes still fixed on the black. Hello Reyith; she finally said, greeting him again despite having said the same to all of the dragons in attendance. Yours and Mine seem to be enjoying each others company; she added pleasantly.

Dear studio audience, I've an announcement to make,
It seems the artists these days are not who you think,
So we'll pick back up on that on another page.

[Lan]

C'lin, to be honest, didn't trust P'nay as far as he could throw him, or at least on the matter of his having honorable and/or good intentions. Nor did he trust him with any serious thing at all. At the moment they were fond acquaintances, nothing more and certainly nothing less. This yellowrider was someone to mess around with, flirt shamelessly with, and overall socialize with in general. He didn't expect to even see much of him after this day was over, although some hidden part of him sincerely wished that he would.

Amused by his new friend's false modesty, and the fact that he would have responded the very same way, built up as energy in C'lin as he nearly dragged P'nay past stall after stall, each one selling something unique and different. Occasionally he would pause at one, but his momentum never ceased. Although tall, the blackrider had a young boy's demeanor and could easily keep up with the energy of any weyrbrat, for sure. Yet, all that being said, C'lin was pleasantly unaware that he was being watched. While still knowledgeable that P'nay still clung to his arm, he knew not that he was scrutinizing him so thoroughly. So it caught him almost entirely by surprise when P'nay leaned over and graced his lips against his cheek, allowing C'lin to feel his warm breath in the process.

Shells. It was enough to make his skin crawl with delight. C'lin froze, his countenance only a half-smile now, and he watched his acquaintance with an expression closely related to that of amazement. For a split second he wanted to push further, to grab P'nay and press his lips firm against his. He wanted to taste his lips, to explore his mouth in what would only be a natural embrace. But his better judgment got the best of him. No. Not now. He barely knew the man. Yet, even with that rush of hormones gone, his heart still beat stronger and harder than it had before.

P'nay had then seized the opportunity of C'lin's pause to take the lead again. This as well the blackrider found alluring. He was always fond of people who took charge and knew what they wanted and went after it. This rider seemed to be a prime example of that. So he let him take the lead, following with an amused expression on his face. Now was his turn to analyze. C'lin knew from the moment the yellowrider denied it that he had been right about his new friend's intentions. And from his observations he could see that P'nay did well in social situations and weaved as easily through crowds as C'lin could. It was almost... eerie... how similar they were. Maybe he had a crazy mum too, C'lin thought with a mixture of amusement and irritation. But as P'nay posed yet another question, C'lin was dragged politely from his reverie.

'Sounds good to me. I'm starved.' He chirped in, glad that his friend had suggested lunch. Curious, the blackrider decided to let his acquaintance, now indubitably his Gather partner, take the lead to find a place to rustle up some grub. After all, a man was what he ate, and he could very well learn a thing or two about P'nay simply by what he chose for lunch.

Reyith gave a soft amiable hum in reply again, still shy of talking. Their little chorus had warmed him up to her, but it took long to persuade a word from the reticent black dragon when he wished to remain silent. He raised his head at Annith's second statement, looking toward the Gather with far-seeing eyes, as if he could spot their two partners mingling about in the crowd. In simple agreement, he nodded. It was true, he could sense from C'lin great enjoyment at his new choice in a friend. This would be good for him. Maybe he wouldn't be so moody or down now. Gathers in general always heightened his beloved's mood, but to have formed such a pleasant new acquaintance would assuredly boost his confidence and stamina that much more.

They do, He finally spoke, much pride and contentment coloring the two words. Reyith beamed at Annith, quite glad now to have her company, and even more joyful that his C'lin had her P'nay's company. Lowering his head back onto his forelegs, he watched her passively and comfortably again. It is good for him to have a friend. A stream of past worry and emotion spilled forth from his mind cautiously into hers and at the speed of thought he had shared, without words, the previous troubles he had endured with C'lin in the past couple of weeks. His beloved had been very depressed. He didn't know why. But every attempt he made at cheering him seemed only temporary. He hoped, beyond hope, that this good day would bring C'lin from his lonely valley.

Then he was silent again, the only possible explanation of his sudden burst of trust in direct relation to C'lin's relationship with the other dragon's rider.

[Admin]

Please, leave all overcoats, canes and top hats with the doorman.
From that moment you'll be out of place and underdressed.
I'm wrecking this evening already and loving every minute of it.
Ruining this banquet for the mildly inspiring and . . .

P'nay was pleased at the proper sort of reaction he got from kissing only C'lin's cheek, watching with half of one eyes as the blackrider's smile decrease and he stared at him with a sort of awe. It had all worked so perfectly too; his lovely friend had paused so graciously due to the kiss that he could go on and take the lead. They certainly had been charging on before. The yellowrider didn't charge, in truth; his was strong, but his lanky build was not at all well designed for that. He slipped and slithered but still expertly knew how to bring C'lin along for the rider with him. There was no rush or hurry to his steps or movements; he was simply at ease and moved freely. Lost amongst other people with someone right beside him who was fun and interesting, he was finally home, the only home he felt he had besides whenever he was close to Annith.

Once C'lin agreed to lunch, his stomach gave another growl and he grinned, unashamed of his hunger; why should he be? With his wonderful nose, and a very handy aerial of view of the Gather thanks to his very helpful dragon, it wasn't hard to figure out which way led to the baker's stall. As he went, he enjoyed the sights - holdbrats, and he sure a weyrbrat or two, raced all about; firelizards filled the air with a mixture of the smells of delicious delicacies and many people; stalls that they past sold everything from jewelry to daggers to firelizard eggs. He also made sure to keep an eye on the sight that was right beside him. Though he was trying not to dwell on it to much, touching his lips to the blackrider's cheek had been very satisfying. His heart pounded steady and sure in his chest but he was acutely aware of just that fact. A little kiss on the cheek done on his part wasn't going to make it flutter but it was nice to have the feeling that it might have made C'lin's do that.

Finally, he found a nice baker's stall that wasn't overly busy for the several apprentices and journeymen that were manning it. Disentangling his arm from C'lin's with a bit of sadness, he stepped forward to buy four bubbly pies. He couldn't resist brushing his fingers against the other rider's hand in the process though, turning his head towards him to smile sweetly. The logic behind the number of the pastry was built on the idea that it would be harder to carry more. Once the apprentice had been paid and he'd gotten the pastries, he turned back to C'lin, still smile, and passed him two of the bubbly pies. He took a bit of one of his own, chewed it sort of thoughtfully, savoring the flavor, and swallowed it up properly.

Then he leaned forward and kissed C'lin, passionately on the lips this time. This did make his heart pound faster this time but it was more just from the adrenaline of the forward action. He savored the taste of his Gather partner's lips more than the taste of the sweet, warm bubbly pie. After a few moments of manipulating the blackrider's lips with his own, he pulled away and sucked in a deep breath of air. His smile was definitely smug now but it was almost more of a mixture of cheerful and very confident that came of as just a tinge smug. "Are you enjoying your food?" His voice was soft, sure, and sweet as could be; the words were just meant for C'lin and not the collection of people staring at them. All of a sudden, he didn't care about them and their thoughts and opinions; he'd found that momentary happiness he always sought.

Annith watched and listened to Reyith's replied attentively and carefully. When he sent her the stream of emotions about his rider, she closed the outer lids of her eyes to process the information and really feel what the silent words meant. She nodded her understanding about his rider's depression but worried nagged at her own mind now. Would Hers really be good for Reyith's? She was glad that Hers was happy for the moment in his present company, but he was always moving forward and sometimes left people worse than they had been. In many cases, things worked out fine since the person had been fine to start, but she somehow doubted that this would go like that. She opened her eyes slowly.

Cautiously, she drew up the emotions she could recall about the recent troubles with her rider and then also the ones he had given her from before he'd ever come to a Weyr. Then she sent them, slowly but surely, to Reyith, showing him about her riders problems and tendencies. If the black had been trusting of her enough to do that for her, she was more than willing to show him the same. I hope that P'nay will be a good friend for Yours; she added, and then she fretted. She did want Hers to lose his new friend or for Reyith to worry. Everything could work out just fine; she was just trying to be helpful. Since the black had been beaming at her, she continue to beam her smile back at him but things showed her subtle worry. She was still distinctly sunny but a little yellow touched at her eyes and she was obviously just a little bit worried.

I'm the new cancer, never looked better, you can't stand it.
Because you say so under your breath.
You're reading lips "When did he get all confident?"

[Admin]

The anger swells in my guts,
And I won't feel these slices and cuts,
I want so much to open your eyes,
'Cause I need you to look into mine.

Stroking her faithful pets slim neck absentmindedly, Fajra walked forward into the Gathering with the purpose that she always carried herself with. Not interested in being discrete and trying to get lost in the crowds for a few moments like she had been to start, she cut a path through the crowds. Red hair, a guarded expression, and movements that mixed grace with that strong sense of knowing just what she was doing - she was a noticeable sight and, as murmurs went through the people she passed, everyone knew who she was. Proud and strong, she raised her head and ignored their stares. This was going to be her moment, whether she wanted it to be or not; she'd become what she had.

For three turns, she'd known this day would come. Well, she'd always been a Weyrwoman since Impressing Kalith, but now she was a Sr. Weyrwoman and she'd never been sure she'd reach that. At the very least, it had seemed farther off to even her, who tended to entertain all possibilities. She was sure it was normal to be scared that you would disappoint all the people who counted on her. She was sure it was normal to be overwhelmed everyone once in a while when she had to prepare a new continent for the coming fall of thread. But if that was what normal was, she wasn't going to be normal; she couldn't be normal. She made herself feel the confidence and poise she showed; that was who she had to be, so she pushed back emotions beyond the point of her passion and drive and simply focused on doing what she had to do. It certainly looked food, for all appearances, if you watched her glide on by.

Most people were ignored. She didn't mean offense, and none was taken, but she simply didn't have time to acknowledge have to deal with half the people. It was another woman about her age that finally drew her attention - Nimara, rider of red Waroth, was someone who could warrant her notice and time. Moving towards her, she noted the man that she was talking to but continued on unfazed, not wanting to change her course now. Still, she wasn't feeling particularly fond of the idea of meeting up with O'sho today. It was a subtle thing, but her steps slowed almost imperceptibly and she let the crowd grow in a little bit, faking, to both everyone else and herself, that it was slowing her progress. Old anger, the slow simmering kind that she always had that boiled slowly deep inside her mind, was coming to the for again. O'sho need to pay, but it couldn't be now, hence why she needed to collect herself.

Daidoroth's pleasantness and charm was all well and good to the Queen, but his actions towards Kerath were so plain. Well, she liked the setting in his place bit, but it was otherwise very tame and boring. She gave a sort of resigned sigh, which she covered by shifting her position with it to lounge more luxuriously over her perch. He will be flying under yours, of course, Daidoroth. Only Queens, and reds and oranges, if mine insists, are allowed in my wing and there is no other; Kalith interjected, voice quick and clear and the comment obviously intended to show who ranked above even the bronze.

Pausing to let her words sink in and to let them take effect, she enjoyed watching the two large males and feeling Rukbat against her back. It had been far to long since it had been shining with proper light like this rather than the cold light of winter. Anyway, I am in good spirits, I suppose. Today is a very nice day, and Mine is . . . out. It is nice to see everyone out and in attendance; she continued after her pause finally. The last part of her statement seemed harmless but, in truth, it was based in the fact she was enjoying being able to easily lord over her dragons. Yes, they were her dragons, part of her Weyr.

Get up, get out, get away from these liars,
'Cause they don't get your soul or your fire,
Take my hand, knot your fingers through mine,
And we'll walk from this dark room for the last time.

[Kila]

“Weyrwoman- here you are at last.”

A well-dressed and elegant man placed a hand on Fajra’s shoulder and spoke to her in a deep voiced clearly laced with courtesy and seduction. He was a large, tall, broad-shouldered, well-built man of around 25 turns. His hand, firm on her shoulder, was pale white and smooth enough to have never suffered a hard day’s work. Long, black sleeves of the finest material began definitively at his wrists and grew into a long, expensive jacket that matched his straight-legged pants perfectly. The dressy vest he wore beneath his finery was a metallic bronze color that was inlaid with complicated, decorative stitching. His hair, which was unwaveringly straight, was slicked back, allowing his bright green eyes to dominate his face. His eyes were long, and strong features- jawbone, brow, chin- lent his gaze a burrowing sense. He wore a crooked smile on his lips, one corner pulled up cockily.

His body language and tone potentially betrayed his intentions. He was over-confident; daring enough to lay his hands on a figure of power, let alone Fajra herself. He did not address her by name, only by title. He showed no modesty or servility in the way he held himself or in the way he spoke, taking on her equal. His words implied that he had been searching for her for some time without luck. Desperation or impatience, which might be inferred from this, hinted at a motive and an extreme flaw in character.

“How nice it is to finally find you,” he continued with polished suave. Audaciously he took her hand and knelt to press his lips to it lightly. “I am very inclined to make your acquaintance. Please, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Duilios,” he said with a sweeping bow to her, showing the respect that was demanded by protocol at last. He straightened himself with a shine in his eye. “I am the Western Lord Holder. And you must be Fajra... Your Weyr is to protect my people, is it not?”