Freedom & Necessity (Gold Kalesk's Second Run)

[Cathaline]

It was twenty-four candlemarks since Callistath's flight. Twenty-four candlemarks since their world had plunged into chaos. Kalenna was a weyrbrat, and although in her position as betahandler, she had precious little say in how the dragonriders arranged their affairs, she most certainly had opinions. Opinions which had led to a night of clenched jaw and irritation, and a day of fitful sleep.

How were they supposed to live with this?

But she did not even have time, when she woke near sunset, to seek out Rayna or anyone else who might have answers about what had happened with the Weyrleadership while she was asleep. Something had to be decided. D'lios couldn't very well run a Hold and a Weyr at the same time. Nobody could. But she could feel it in her veins from the moment she stepped outside, and she walked with the prowling Kalesk to the pens. Only blood it, my dear.[/i]

At least Kalesk's choice would have precious little chance of tearing their home apart.

Kalesk tore a herdbeast to bits, sucked the blood like a vampire, and then flung the meat in the direction of another wher. She felt - wild and angry, feeding on her handler's frustration, and she snarled at the males of Weyr and coast, Here and now.[/i]

Kalenna turned and strode back toward her chambers, and the gold broke into a run, her vast form like a shooting star, glinting bright in the twilight as she fled the Bowl and scrambled down the familiar coastline. She might have warned the wild whers, who she would never choose and did not like, but part of her burned to cause some violence. Callistath's performance, Kalesk understood from her handler's reaction, had been shameful. Kalesk would not be the same. She needed a mate; she desired freedom.

But out here in the gathering darkness, it was possible to taste both.

[Gray]

Sunset was to early for him. He should be awake, hunting for food, but the ease spring often caused him to sleep in. It didn't take the effort it usually would. It did not take the time. He should not be awake. But he was. The firelizard beneath his massive claw struggled and keened. It had woke him up. It had woke him with it's obnoxious chirping and caterwauling. He had mind to make a quick meal of the fellow dragonkin, but then something hit him. A voice. A rough voice, both a purr and a roar, one that demanded his attention.

Lifting his claw from his prize, the firelizard clawed at the air, frantically gaining enough altitude to between elsewhere. Oisk did not mourn the loss. He had no need for food now. Blood would be good, but it was pointless. He would be swift and she would see. She would see Oisk was the best. His gait was heavy, his footfalls audible as he pushed his bulky form forth. Once, he may have been considered a bit fat, but the turns were not good to him. For the most part, fat had melted into rough muscle and loose skin. His hide, once bright was now dark and scarred, greyish blue streaked with darker blue. He had scars from runs long past.

He jaw parted as he ran, fetid breath coming out in ragged huffs. Chipped teeth. Broken teeth. Missing teeth. Once they were large, like magnificent tusks that hung over his jaws. Now they were dull and broken. He was too old for this, he knew that now. Wilds, they were survivors, and he had lived this long, but the way his bones creaked told him he wouldn't have much longer. Still. He bellowed his intentions to chase. Surely Kalesk would see his wisdom. His age. His sheer will to survive and choose him! Digging up clods of dirt, he plodded on after her, his great golden huntress.

[Maggie]

Even though Esk would foever be his treasure, Gennesk still could not keep himsel from chasing pretty queens when they ran. They were pretty and there was always a small possibility he might have hatchlings and he did love hatchlings. They were adorable, when they weren't being annoying and screamy like Lisk and Saosk.

It wasn't particularly early for Gennesk, since he was used to waking up early, even if he had to put on eye-protects to go exploring with his Mini-Mouse or treasure hunting with Mini-Ana. Now, he didn't even bother with eye-protects as he turned away from his quest for treasure, which had already been fruitful since he had found a particularly interesting leaf that he had hidden away in a cache where he stored all the pretty things he found to give to Esk. He bugled joyfully, stopping two seconds to do a little wher-ish jig before thundering after the pretty gold. He roared loudly, enjoying the thrill of the chase. Kalesk! Gennesk is for chase! Gennesk is be show Klesk fun!

[RavenSong]

Pel was a woman of duty and honor. She worked to the best of her ability within the confines of that code, never once doing anything to upset the status quo. It was a trait she'd tried her best to impress on Pesk.

It was a trait she wished Callistath had. Callistath's choice of mate had upset the balance, turned the Weyr chaotic. How was Dalibor supposed to be taken seriously with the Senior Queen choosing not only a brown, but a Lord Holder's brown at that? It simply wasn't done, and Pel laid the blame firmly at Avalle's feet. She was working in her room, where Pesk was busy arranging his branch collection. He'd "cleaned" around dawn, which prompted Pel's own work as the sun set. His brand of cleaning, while well-intentioned, usually ended up with the Pridesecond having to go back over everything to put it to rights.

Pesk's head shot up at Kalesk's call. Pel felt his lust begin to grow and grinned, moving to the door to open it. Pesk took a moment to choose the best small branch from his collection and picked it up, carrying it in his mouth as he bounded off to Chase his glorious golden Queen.

Kalesk! he called to her, bounding forward. Pesk has gift pretty Kalesk. Bestbranch! Bestbranch is for Pretty Kalesk! The sharklike Black ran quickly, ready to fight for his chance to prove himself to Pretty Kalesk and give her the best branch he'd ever found. Woe to any male that tried to take the trophy from him, or broke it. His feet carried him over sand and rock as he sought her out, aware that she had a head start on him. Well, that would quickly diminish as his nose caught her scent. He knew where to go.

[kireon]

Cilia, in a surprising twist, was keeping her mouth completely closed on the matter regarding their new Weyrleader. No comments on his appearances, usually a first on her end, nor on anything about her opinion on whether or not she found him a good or bad fit for Dalibor as a whole. Not even to Ciali or Damali did she let her guard down on the subject, choosing instead to sit in silence, or to give a polite but dismissive nod whenever the subject was broached.

Cilisk found this development particularly thrilling, for it was Cilia acting very much the way he preferred; orderly, and with restraint the bronzehandler often chose not to utilize for the sake of annoying the feathers off the wherry out of her bonded. Then again, perhaps he was more than just a touch selfish on the matter, knowing that she might have been behaving if only because of the sorrow they had both shared during Ausk's hatching with the murder of one of his children.

When Kalesk's command rang through out the Weyr, Cilia and Cilisk's heads rose in unison, the pridesecond's eyes meeting with that of her monster sized wher. A quirk of her brow upward was her response to the steel-steady stare he gave her. She'll tear you up worse than Ausk with the mood she and Kalenna've been in, you know that right? She asked pleasantly as adrenaline steadily built her heart into a beating drum within her ears.

Yes.[/i] He was unsurprised by the question, just as she was equally unsurprised by his answer.

...make sure you don't lose any limbs or get half-killed in the process. Cilia finally said, rising from her seat to head for Kalenna's chambers. Worse to worse, she'd face yet another temperamental handler who wanted it rough rather than sweet and romantic. She wasn't exactly feeling the most tender as a lover either, but she'd roll with whatever the Betahandler decided- if she was chosen.

Cilisk rocketed out, starting out with his usual steady lope that slowly turned into a rolling, full out run that destroyed essentially anything in his path. Brush, branches, anything that caught him was barreled through carelessly, heedless of the lines it left on thick hide. He was scarred now, hide rippling with healed patches of shimmering, paler bronze streaked with a greenish-white scar tissue from the wars he'd waged with Abrask, and then with the bloody mess that had been Ausk's run. Between Burlesk's knife and Ausk's fangs, he'd been ripped enough that Cilia had taken one look at him post-Run, thrown her hands in the air and had told him in no uncertain terms that the next time he decided he wanted to play rough with other whers, she wasn't going to let them numbweed the injured areas and he would just have to deal with it.

As if he would cringe at the threat, even if the sound of nothing but redwort stinging its way along with the suture needle in and out of flesh would make him change his mind about doing things his way. His competitors were faced and judged instantly in his mind; most of which had been semi-decent whers in their own right. Pesk, he had no issue with. Good temperment, too relaxed and friendly for Cilisk's taste. Gennesk was annoying in his eyes, always going where he shouldn't. Stupid brown, he growled in the friendly wher's direction, a warning and the only one he'd ever give. Still no sign of Lyrsk, and that was both concerning and exciting. Perhaps his mentor wouldn't join this race after all.

Unlikely, he snorted at himself in derision.

Of course Lyrsk would be there, the blue was just likely setting up a proper ambush somewhere, just waiting to launch himself out to be at the front of the pack of pursuers.

Cilisk here. He announced himself formally, properly as he broke free of the underbrush and on to the coastline proper. Heavy, two towed claws sank deep into sand and kicked the spray behind him. Oisk would be savaged, should the wild be too close to Kalesk for comfort.

Cilia tapped against the frame of the betahandler's door, polite for once rather than striding cockily into the woman's domain. Goldhandlers and Redhandlers, one could only guess on how to approach some of them, and it required a good deal of observation before one could even try attempting to just walk in. She'd wait, for a time, for the invitation before just waltzing in like she owned the place.

Besides, maybe from the door way she could see if Lyrnn's pants had been squirreled away somewhere. The man could lose pants about as fast as a tunnelsnake going down Damask's throat sometimes, and she'd heard that he was convinced Kalesk was behind it somehow.

[Ondine]

The Wherlingmaster and Prideleader of Charlie Pride had remained silent about the events of the last 24 candlemarks, waiting for the Weyrwomen and the only other current Weyrleader to make up their minds about what was going to happen. But he had a sick feeling at the pit of his stomach at the thought that a Weyr would be ruled for the nonce by a Lord Holder. It wasn't simply tradition that made him worry, but the sheer potential for abuse of power. Holds and Weyrs were separated from each other for a reason, married as they were like man and wife, but still separate. That a Holder had taken one of the four positions of leadership, as Senior Weyrleader, was...disturbing.

So he slept precious little that day, laying on his bed and staring up at the darkness of the cave ceiling. What was going to happen? He didn't know, and Lyrsk advised patience, as he always did, always had, and always would. But instead of having time to find out what would happen, right after he woke in the twilight Lyrsk rose. Blinking at the blue, Lyrnn sighed. It would have to be Kalesk. He could feel the searing heat rising in his veins again, and walked out of his room at the same time that the blue wher bolted through the cavern in search of his Queen. She's going to be violent. Kalesk is Queen. The response was instant and without a single moment of hesitation, just as Lyrnn knew it would be.

Three decades with his bonded wher, it was no surprise that he knew exactly what his blue would do. Lyrsk was fast and lightweight, but going headlong would only drain his stamina. Which he would need. He was, however, faster than the kings even when he was conserving his strength, and he had left a little later than they had so that he would know who was ahead of him by smell alone. It was no surprise to him that Cilisk had joined the chase, and he remembered what the pup had done during Ausk's run. But whether or not he would get his revenge on the bronze this time or not was entirely besides the point, because what mattered was Kalesk.

Lyrnn walked up to the doorframe and was amused when he found Cilia standing outside of it instead of strolling on in. “What, you're not going inside? I'm surprised Cilia.” He slipped past her and into the room that he'd been in several times the past few turns. “Hello Kalenna.” His voice was rough and low, and he sat in a chair to wait while he slowly fell into the bond with his blue. A lot of good nights here, but that didn't mean she'd pick him. Last time was because the winner was married, but this time...well, Cilisk had good chances to win as a King, and Cilia would definitely be willing.

The fighter sprinted across the sand, switching catching up with the pack with a snarl at Cilisk. First move belonged to the Queen, though, to set the taste and feel for the run. It was up to the mighty Gold to announce her intentions to her suitors, and during the chaos of those moments would be the time to make the best impression. Lyrsk here for Queen. She knew him, of course, quite well, but it was never a bad idea to call out to the gold who had been bonded to an angry handler in the past day.

[Chek]

Regardless of the antics of Dragonriders, and the impending change in leadership, patrols must go on. Baharl was just starting to pull her armor on when Bask’s head came up. The great iron snorted, then ambled out of their room at a slow, building trot, his intentions clear.

Baharl shed what armor she’s already donned and sauntered out after him, but where he headed towards open air and the gleam of golden hide, Baharl detoured towards Kalenna’s rooms, coming in right behind Lyrnn – she slung an arm over Cilia’s shoulders and dragged the other kinghandler in with her. “Reporting for…duty, Betahandler,” she purred, letting Cilia loose and leaning against the wall near the doorframe, only then reaching out for her bond with Bask, sparing only a nod for her Prideleader.

Bask, a little behind the other chasers, was content, for the moment at least, to amble along at the back of the pack, conserving his energy and casing his competition. Cilisk was, in his opinion, the most threatening contender after the victory at Ausk’s Run, but you could never underestimate Lyrsk.

No one else was worth considering, in the iron’s mind.

Now to see how Kalesk would take this run; Kalesk Queen; Bask follow Kalesk wherever lead.

[Azhdarchid]

Slosk stuck his bony forelegs out of the sand pile, flapping his two-taloned paws at the air. Though only emerging a few inches from the dune, his upside-down jaws vibrated with a croon that swelled into a bass greeting. He had collapsed out past the fisher's huts only a candlemark ago. With the dragons of the Weyr cured, the fishermen had gone back to stockpiling their catches, which meant a wher could parasitize enough to absolve himself of the requirement to hunt unless he had a particular craving. Unfortunately, he also lacked great imagination as to what to do with his free time, so he spent most of it snoozing in various locations around the beach.

Someone had interrupted his nap.

Getting up- with a few brassy rolling snarls -he turned his long head toward the Weyr. His eyes opened red, but with an urchk and a shake of his bumpy skull, he blinked them back to a muddy maroon. At this distance, he could easily discern the young queen's demands...and her disdain. Well he had quite enough of stone whers and their mysterious dragon-ridden hidey hole. Slosk cocked one huge eye toward the stump where his right wing once flapped.

After Ausk's Run, its status had only been shattered. But it had bothered the big iron enough that he had taken to sleeping atop it, and over the months it had shriveled into a wrinkly vestige of its former...wrinkly vestige. Just a couple weeks ago he had returned from some deep sea fishing to find it gone up to the elbow, though the spoke that remained still wiggled when he twitched his shoulder. Still, the iron recalled enough to connect it to Ausk. His other wing, Threadbitten, barely functioned. He matched the red pretty well.

But that was not the point! The Weyr whers never picked him anymore, even if he was fat with Winter's salvage and had claimed more than a few of his fellow wildlings with ease. No, all they served now was as distractions from perfectly good dreams. Even their queen. Even Ausk! Not Yusk though. Slosk rumbled softly at the thought of the tiny green.

This pomp, though. He trotted up the sand, out to the predictable meeting point between her trajectory and his. Slosk sat down, folding his inner lids up so as to best resemble a boulder. Expressing displeasure was not his strong suit, but the queen's feelings were an easy read this night. He rocked his stomach back and forth a few times before she came into view, thundering forth, a golden valkyrie. His jaws creaked open.

URFFRRP.

It might have been a roar. The volume was exceptional enough. Except in this case it served as a projectile, a wave of steaming, swarming, stinking belly gas right into the queen's path. It had a moist, drenching quality, and lingered thick and sturdy as a wall twenty feet across. The poisons in it could draw breath from the lungs, but mostly had the effect of sticking to the hide for a seemingly endless time. Only a good scrubbing or a dip in the sea would suffice for its victims.

He leaned back, clacking his jaws and flopping his tongue through the strings of gum and goo he had accidentally ejected with the force of the blast. His jaws seeped mucousy trails to the ground. Winking his protruding eyes out of order, the wild giant got to his feet, turned around...and scurried back towards the shoreline.

[Cathaline]

Kalesk felt them stir, and settle in behind her. Even as she desired their presence, however, and what their presence must inevitably lead to, it only whipped her fury up into a hurricane. Didn't any of them know by now not to try to crowd her? She didn't get this often, this escape into the wilds, the joy of stretching her limbs and being almost entirely free of the pressure of Kalenna's cool mind, but they wanted to ruin it. They always did.

She veered aside from Slosk's little "gift" for one reason and one reason only: because she hated him, and at the moment, hate and the lust that was fueling her were one and the same. Her large paws pounding on the sand, she chased him down, snarling, and pounced upon his back. She was a limber and violent lioness, and she clawed new streaks of pain into his well-worn hide, disgusted by his stench and his very existence. Had he been smaller or less of a survivor, she would have slaughtered him then and there.

But she did not have time for this, so after mere moments, she pushed off of him and plunged into the surf. Browns, black, blue, iron, bronze. Apart from the wild brown, who she would destroy if she could, and Pesk, too small and too sweet, they were all worthy in their own ways. Certainly she had made no decisions yet. The salty water was warm with summer's ending, and she blew a few bubbles as she swam out and further out, until she clambered up onto a sandbar.

For a moment, she paused and watched the beach, glinting in the moonlight. Then she was off again, racing along the jut of land until her path took her back to the sea and then back to Dalibor's island, where she raced toward the west. She could lead them completely around the vast Weyr, if she chose to. She could lead them anywhere until they all dropped from exhaustion and she alone was left.

But she didn't really want that, in the end.

[kireon]

Ever steady and unstoppable as the boulder rolling down a steep mountain side, Cilisk kept his pursuit with single minded focus; where Kalesk would go, as would he until she chose, or until she chased him off. He narrowly avoided slamming into the wall of stench caused by Slosk, or so he believed, the hocks of his legs dipped in, as well as the stubby length of metallic tail and left a small dipping trail behind as he skidded, spraying sand, and angled off to try and match strides with the clever gold.

He hit the water with all the force of an explosion, spray everywhich way as powerful muscles rippled beneath the lumpy expanse of hide. Moonlight glinted off his hide, pale in comparison to the light from Kalesk's hide as he forced himself onward. His pace, always controlled, always steady as they went.

Kalesk was the Queen, he was a King, and he would pursue her until the very end. He had the power, the strength and the endurance. His speed, perhaps, could be found wanting, but the rest of him could not be. Speed could only last so long, but stamina and strength combined could outlast, and endure for candlemarks on end.

Baharl's arrival somehow came as little surprise, and she spared a knowing smirk in the ironhandler's direction. Blonde ladies and their kings, their royal pains in the ass, that was them alright. Her smile was turned towards Lyrnn, a saucy wink in his direction as she allowed her gaze to fall permanently on to Kalenna, giving Baharl a subtle swat on the rear for her sass and casual skinsmanship.

She'd totally hit that if they both lost, and maybe even if they didn't. If she were chosen, or Baharl, then she'd make a note to watch the ironrider carefully. One more on her prospective list.

But her sudden onset of quiet continued, playing the part of well mannered handler for the time being- the wink at Lyrnn and the slap on the butt for Baharl didn't count- because of the events gone past. She wanted to see just how much Kalenna might let slip through action alone.

[Chek]

Rather than pacing Kalesk, trying to keep up with her, Bask...let himself fall back, giving the leonine Queen space, as much as he could without the lust driving him forcing him forward out of the need to compete for the gold's favor.

When she hit the water, and the other chasers seemed to followe her in, he instead slowed to a stop and paced, back and forth, watching Kalesk gleam as she struck out to sea.

He had two choices – the first, follow her, which, if she decided to swim to the main continent, was a long swim, one he was likely to loose – he was not a strong swimmer, and knew it very well. If he followed her, he would fail.

If he didn't, he had a chance. If she doubled back, didn't swim away...he'd be the first on land after her again. Baharl urged him onwards, whatever his choice, and he roared, bellow echoing across the waves, and took off along the wet sand, pacing that more and more distance spec of gold from land.

When she went up on the sandbar, he knew his choice was good. When she headed back towards Dalibor beach, he doubled his speed, picking up for the first time something approaching his actual running pace.

When the gold hit the sand and headed west, Bask was in her footsteps within seconds, before the sea could wash them away, sand spraying out from around his feet as he adjusted his angle, dropped his head, and lit off after his Queen, head shortly drawing even with the tip of her metallic tail.

Baharl, grin widening, leaned in against Cilia and idly hooked her ankle around her fellow kinghandler's, eyes locked on Kalenna and Lyrnn even as she made herself rather...comfortable in Cilia's personal space...Baharl's hands wandered, after all, and if she could startle Cilisk through her handler, well, her Bask would not turn down such a timely falter.

[Ondine]

The blue had planned on making his move against Cilisk, but the desire swiftly faded as the first move fell to Kalesk...and the gold ravaged Slosk. It was a pity that the big iron didn't die, but Lyrsk simply accepted that it would be some time more before the King died. The blue had dodged the wall of disgusting gunk by sheer swiftness, and was now following the Queen some distance away. But with the abrupt surge into the sea, it was apparent that they were going for a swim, although where they were going was another question entirely.

But he had to stay close to her to show his speed and skill, and so he a steady pace a bit away from her so that she could have a bit of space, keeping him safe from any attempt by her at savaging him. He was swifter than her in the water, but he had far less stamina, so he conserved his strength so that he wouldn't wear himself out before she was ready to chose her mate. Keeping himself to the gold's speed was simply good tactics at this point, since he needed that strength.

They burst onto a sandbar, but soon enough it was back into the water, and he noticed that Bask had stayed out of the water on dry land. That gave him an advantage in distance, and he had all of the strength of an iron. That was...bad. Bad for his chances at least, but the Queen had made no sign that she was eager for blood, and he kept his claws close in case any others decided to use them, but saw no need as of yet to transform lust to violence.

Lyrnn watched with a raised eyebrow at the two female kinghandlers, but was otherwise focused on the run. The odds were, as always, against Lyrsk, but that had been true last time and he still wound up in the bed. He watched through the eyes of his wher even as he listened to the others in the room, not that they were saying much. He did, however, watch with interest at what Baharl and Cilia were doing, smiling ever so slightly. But his true attention was still on Kalenna, waiting for a sign that the victor was chosen and what she would do.

[Cathaline]

Kalesk's paws thundered along the ground, loud in the stillness of the night, as she raced the wind and the waves and the darkness and the chasers and her own surge of emotion. If she could have run forever, she would have, but in due time, she would need to fulfill the urges that were driving her in the first place. And then she would suffer the consequences of her brief bout of true freedom: two months in confinement with her eggs.

Ah, well. Adding to her pack, her pride, her Weyr - that was worth it. And this, this was worth it too.

Although she kept her eyes forward, trained on some unseen destination, she let her consciousness flow. She could sense them, her suitors. Most of them she knew very well. Though Lyrsk was bold to come after a queen, she knew it would not be this day that she selected a blue for her mate. Bask had not followed her, and his tricks annoyed her for reasons she could not quite explain, for reasons that were coming to her directly down her connection to Kalenna, who had heard just enough about the disastrous goldflight to blame tricks. He should have followed, and then it would have been fair.

At last she turned to one rock-solid pursuer. This was just. This was right, and right and wrong - these things mattered to Kalesk, tonight. She bellowed disapproval and dismissal at the rest of them, and let herself meld into Cilisk.

Kalenna was not one to be entirely aware of herself during a run. She was a weyrbrat by nature. This was about Kalesk, not her. Kalesk's choice. Last time, Lachask had chased and she had needed to make other arrangements; this time she could surrender herself entirely to their bond. When the lust reached its peak, she stepped forward and caught Cilia's wrist.

"I don't care if you stay," Kalenna said, her voice low, directing this to Baharl and Lyrnn. But she only had eyes for her prize - because anyone who thought she and Kalesk were the trophies here was gravely mistaken.