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Post by theknightwhosaysni on Feb 18, 2011 13:53:06 GMT -5
You make me feel Like I'm livin' a Teenage dream, The way you turn me on...
[/i] Night had claimed Dalibor Weyr. Dragonriders and their massive beasts had retired to their weyrs, allowing whers and their handlers to claim the world for a time. Rukbat had dipped below the horizon, allowing whers to stir from their sleep and blink photophobic eyes open. All light had retired, fleeing from the dark caverns of the wher territory when Frisk began to stir. The night was dark, painting the sky with broad strokes of deep colors, blues and purples and blacks. Stars were little pinpricks of light, little dots against a vast expanse of darkness. They were small enough that they wouldn't bother the creatures of the night, the ones that were crawling their way into wakefulness as Rukbat vanished, lighting other parts of Pern. As the night deepened, it almost seemed as if Frisk would slumber through the night. However, her eyes snapped open after a time, and they were tinged heavily with red and purple. Purple. Lust. Frisk was going to Run, but that wasn't a surprise. It wasn't as if her hide hadn't been glowing the past few days, catching the gaze of males here and there. Tonight was the night, it seemed, as the green stretched, hissing softly at the sight of her handler sleeping. I hungry. Out bed![/i] The commanding tone to her voice was strange for the normally happy and playful green, but tonight was going to be her night and no one was going to take attention away from her, particularly not a lazy, sleeping handler. Frisk growled, deep in her chest, as she watched Frino start awake at her sharp voice. "I'm up, I'm--Frisk?" He hadn't really realized what had sounded different about his wher until he noticed that, oh hello, her eyes were purple! Normally, they were greens and blues with the occasional touch of yellow anxiety. But they were almost never purple. Frino frowned for a moment, his brain working as quickly as it could, shaking the fog of sleep from it in time to realize that Frisk was running. Of course. That did make sense, didn't it? And the thought was enough to get Frino off of his cot with a vigorous shake of his head to clear the last bits of sleep from it. Of course, it didn't clear his mind much. Frisk's lust swirled through his mind but Frino wasn't going to deny it. There wasn't any point to it. Runlust was lust and honestly, Frino thought it would be a grand experience to see how it felt to be under the influence of Runlust. I hungry.[/i] Frisk repeated it again with a soft snarl, before she whirled from their room in the wherhandlers' quarters. She needed freedom! She needed to get out, to run, to make all of the males in the Weyr chase after her and long for her. They needed to come for her, to chase after her. She wasn't going to wait for them, but they needed to come for her. When Frisk came to the feeding pens, she stared for a long moment at the animals. Her stomach rumbled inside of her, longing for the food, but that wasn't the most pressing need. Not yet. What Frisk needed was to run! The desperate urge to move was twitching in her legs, making her shift her weight from foot to foot. It was in her nose as she sniffed the air, trying to decide where she would go first. It was in all of her body, pushing her to leave Dalibor far behind and run far away with males chasing after her. The lust wasn't something that Frisk was going to resist for long. With a growl to herself, the green broke into a run. She paused only long enough to give a bugling cry, one that summoned all of the males that would Chase her. Whether they came from her Clutch or not, she called for all of the whers that would come. She, Frisk, was the greatest of all female whers. She was the temporary Queen of the night because she and she alone, of all of the whers of Dalibor, was running on that fine, fine night. Frisk expected all of the males to come. And if they didn't, well, they were missing out. I can't sleep... Let's run away and Don't ever look back, Don't ever look back... [/i][/size][/blockquote]
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Post by blue on Feb 18, 2011 14:41:15 GMT -5
He was a mighty brown wher, bonded to no one, and free to do as he wished. And right now, what he wished was to Chase. He crooned his desire as she broke free from the human-dragon place and ran after her, mighty legs working furiously, and wings half spread to balance him better. He would outlast any others who joined the chase. He was not pampered and sheltered and tethered to a puny human all his days. He had strength and stamina, and he would get what he wanted.
“Ooooooooo!” he bugled, ensuring that the green he chased knew of her suitor. Her soon-to-be mate. Oosk he was, if one so great as he truly needed a name. Names were for the bonded ones, but when chasing a bonded, he could pretend to be too. And this bonded one would not escape him. He had caught many greens before, stronger and faster than this one. He could not lose, especially when no others had joined the chase yet.
He would chase alone if necessary, though the hunt was not so thrilling if there were none to beat. The mating at the end would be worth even a uncompetitive hunt, and if there were no others running, there could be no bronzes or irons to steal his prize.
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Post by Admin on Feb 19, 2011 1:18:24 GMT -5
If you're lost and feeling low, Circumnavigate the globe, All you ever have to hope for too, And the way you seem to flow.
Obelir and Obelisk were on the first watch that night, circling the edge of the Weyr as soon as Rukbat disappeared from the sky. They'd move down to the dock later. First they had to make sure the caverns were all secure. It was easy work and they enjoyed each others' company doing it. However, Obelisk was more distracted than usual, constantly glancing up the bowl, and his handler asked himself why the agreeable fellow wasn't being as diligent as usual. However, he also wondered about a great many things, so the time passed. Then it froze. The young handler kept walking, but Obelisk stopped, gaze fixed across the bowl. A few paces later, Obelir stopped as well, looking back, wondering what it was. What is it? Obelisk didn't respond. With a low baying howl, he took off at a swift jog across the bowl, leaving his handler way back in his dust.
It was then that the lust hit Obelir. His blue was chasing. He blinked away his shock. Who was running? That hazy question was answered in a moment as Obelisk reached the feeding pens and gazed down the fence at Brisk. Then she was off running and he took off after her, howling once again when she let out her bugling roar. He was there! He would chase her! A new, quiet vehemence overtook him and he pursued her with vigor, gnarled feet pounding the ground as he followed her. It was not too hard! He could keep pace with her, racing just a few feet behind her pretty green tail! However, he was not alone in his interest. A wild brown was also there, just as swift to join as he, if not swifter, and in a surprising act of aggression for the morally patient blue, he growled at the arrogant beast beside him. No wild was worthy of the pretty Frisk.
Obelir stood wavering next to the bowl wall, a shocked expression on his face. The lust rolled over him in waves, coming and going and then getting worse. It filled his mind and he blinked, trying to think in some sort of sensible fashion. Then, without a single thought, he went jogging off across the bowl, as if following after his wher. However, his path soon diverged. He was going to Frino's room, offering little resistance. What was he to do? He didn't even know what he was supposed to think. As soon as he entered the dark of the wherhandler quarters, his body took control, pushing aside his failing mind. He stumbled into Frino's room and nearly tripped. His eyes found the dim form of the greenhandler and he couldn't remove them. Never before had he thought that his classmate was so attractive. They barely knew each other at all. That didn't matter.
Obelisk, his handler pressed from his mind, the second part of him put as just that, secondary, continued to pursue Frisk in her run without any sign that he would relent. He followed instinct with the same diligence he would do his duties. He followed her, the beautiful beast, the perfect green, with the diligence he knew she deserved. Aside from his one growl, he ignored the brown, along with the others. If the wild wanted to fight him, he would happily do it, but he would prefer not to start anything. He did not wish to fight another for Frisk. He merely wished to chase her. Win her, if he could. Perhaps that was why he was not a bronze. He was certainly no red. No desire to fight. To defend, yes. To protect, most certainly, but he was not violent by nature. He'd bite if you pushed him, but that was no different from any creature. Vehement, he pursued her.
Everyone of us is hurt, And everyone of us is scarred, Everyone of us is scared, But not you.
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Post by aikastarr on Feb 19, 2011 21:21:35 GMT -5
Once Rukbat had set, and most of the dragons fell asleep, Rethalt and his trusty (albeit a bit lazy) brown wher began to stir, preparing for the night ahead of them. The young man had promised himself that he would start talking with Wrynri that day, and he wasn’t about to let anything stop him. Not even a raging red could change his mind.
Unless there was a certain Green that just so happened to have a different plan.
Rethalt had just finished hid breakfast and was starting to get ready for his shift, and Resk was dozing next to him in their room. The brown handler had just finished getting properly clothed when the feral roar split through his eardrums and giving him a massive headache. However, it seemed that it did the opposite to Resk. His head shot up faster than His had ever seen it move, and the same goes for when he got onto his feet. Before Rethalt could even begin to process what was going on, his Brown was already gone, out of the barracks, and into the wilderness. More specifically, after a very familiar face.
The only reason the fact that his brown was Chasing registered in his mind was that lust began to pound against his tired mind, almost making him fall off his feet. From what he understood, Resk was Chasing. The Runner was a Green. Spring green. And Rethalt only knew one spring green wher, and that was…
Resk! NO! the plea was left unanswered as the large Brown screamed his challenge to Frisk. His stubby wings were clamped tightly against his body in an attempt to make him more streamlined. He wasn’t far behind Obelisk and Oosk, but even the marginal difference could mean the loss of a potential mate. Nothing flickered across Resk’s mind except for the goal that the other two had: to win.
Back in the wherhandler quarters, Rethalt’s footsteps practically slammed with the force of Reks’s as he staggered his way towards his friend’s room. The big difference was that there was only one other person there besides Frino (he recognized Obelir soon enough with whatever was left of his mind). Apparently there was a wild wher Chasing. But that wasn’t what made Rethalt’s eyes widen. It was Frino that did: he remembered that there was once a little something between them back in Candidacy, but never had he seen such beauty in him before! Obviously that was the lust speaking, but Rethalt couldn’t tell; besides, hadn’t he wanted to get in bed with the boy since the beginning?
When Resk saw that there was a wild wher amongst them, a predatory snarl echoed from his chest and out of his maw. This was his turf, not that mongrel’s! He only spared the other Brown a glare before pumping his legs faster in order to pass his competition. Sure, he wasn’t as fast and nimble as Obelisk, nor was he as experienced as the other Brown. But he did have a sensible head on his shoulders unlike Oosk, and he had more stamina and strength than his blue brother. In retrospect, he was a bit lazier than the average wher, but he pulled his own weight, and he was going to pull twice of it now, just to win over Frisk.
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Post by purnip on Feb 19, 2011 22:22:41 GMT -5
Wrynsk was in great spirits this evening, waking with more energy in him than ever before. Wrynri hadn't taken heed to any of this; as usual, he woke with the same slow start he once had when he had to rise with the sun. His wher was stretched beside him, eying him expectantly as his handler stirred. His tail flicked against the ground constantly with soft thumps echoing from the cavern walls, eventually driving Wrynri into waking.
Awake, Wrynsk's is! Good wake.
Yawning big, the Brownhandler slid out of bed and got ready for their shift. Tonight they would be one of the first pairs on duty, and they were already cutting it close. It looked like Wrynri would have to go light on breakfast/dinner so he could make it to his proper position on time. The whole way down the cavern, leading to the upper realms where the commons met, the Brown was practically crawling out of his skin with anticipation. It was so strong of an anxiety that the handler could feel it, and it was driving him insane. "What's got you worked up this evening?" he finally asked, finding that he had taken to scratching invisible itches because of that tingling sensation.
Not know. Special day? Wrynsk giddy. It was strange that even his wher couldn't identify the source of his excitement. Wrynri wondered if it was time for his wher to feed again; sometimes he got pretty antsy when he was hungry without fully realizing it. He made up his mind to making sure that his wher would be fed sometime soon. He really couldn't stand all these strange feelings that were slowly prickling at him from the base of his spine on up. Maybe he needed to see someone. It was completely out of the question, of course, but he couldn't rule out the fact that he could be ill. Wrynri hoped as hard as he could that he was fine. He didn't want anyone to know too much about his physical state. It was his business now, unless he chose otherwise. There was a snowball's chance in a Threadstorm of that happening.
It was about a candlemark later, when the Brownhandler and his wher finally settled at their posts, that Wrynsk's behavior was becoming borderline unbearable. He kept fidgeting, sitting and standing up, making eerie noises at the base of his throat like a whining dog. But he never actually went after anything. It was as if some invisible leash was keeping him in place. Wrynri lost his patience once and asked him what was going on, but the Brown only sat back down and said it was nothing. How was this behavior in regards to nothing? Didn't nothing happen nearly every night? Wrynri sincerely hoped this behavior wouldn't last. He'd lose it and go straight to Ridan if his wher kept acting so strangely. That was an act of pure desperation too, considering how much the kid feared the Goldhandler and what he knew. It turned out however, that it wasn't going to come to that.
The call came swiftly, but Wrynsk did not respond by immediately taking off. He did the next worst thing. He stood there, dancing on his feet like he was trying to wake them up, and whining pathetically while throwing glances at his handler. Frisk runs! Frisk runs! Wrynsk chase? Should Wrynsk? Should chase? He kept asking--he either couldn't make up his own mind or was trying to think of whether or not it'd be the right thing to do. He wanted to. He really, really wanted to. He loved her! But would she like that? He wasn't sure. What to do, what to do!
Meanwhile his handler was going from pale to sheet in record time. He dreaded this, from the day he Impressed to Wrynsk. His wher wanted to mate. He wasn't sure if Wrynsk was asking him or just hesitating as he often did, but he didn't answer. In fact, he found himself finally forming these words from the very pit of his soul. "No! D-don't chase! You're t-too young! You don't need to! W-we're needed here!"
The Brown whined again, but this time it was drawn out and curbed into a growl. Noooo...No! Must chase! Must win Frisk! He charged and paused to shake his head, then charged again. This time he ran at full stride, across the fields and towards the pens only to catch a flash of that green hide before it disappeared beyond sight. But he followed, surely and strongly, snorting and grumbling as he hoped to the patron saint of whers or whatever that he was doing the right thing. It had to be, didn't it? Other whers were chasing. There was Obelisk and Resk--two friends of Wrynsk. But when he saw Oosk he gave a blood-curdling hiss. A stranger! In his chase! He did not like it one bit! After having killed one of the wild Blacks that attacked Suranesk and her handler, he did not take kindly to strange whers. He could end up hurting one of his friends. He wouldn't have it!
But the Brown was rather smart for a wher. That, or he simply had a lot more self-control. He ran to the wild wher's side, making sure he was between him and his comrades. If that wild one got out of line, or if he made one wrong move, Wrynsk would show him no mercy. He knew better than to attack the wild Oosk outright though. Frisk might not like that. He could chase, but he wouldn't be welcome unless he won. Even so, he'd better keep away. Wrynsk did not want to lose any more friends.
Wrynri had both hands in his hair, tears burning in his eyes as he stood frozen in place. No! This isn't suppose to happen! Not so soon! Not with Frisk! They couldn't know. Frino...Rethalt...they were the only friends he ever managed to make. If they knew his secret, they'd think he was some kind of freak. Sure, he loved them. He loved them as much as anyone could ever love other people. But they'd hate him for keeping such a secret. They'd hate him for being so screwed up. He sat down in place, but the desire and urge to get up and go to Frino's quarters was deep. What could he do? What would he do? Hope, pray that Wrynsk won't win? But what about the next chase? And the chase after that? How long could he keep his defects a secret? He didn't want to get up. He just sat there, hugging his knees, mind urging his wher to drop out. Maybe this business wasn't as serious as it was with dragonriders. Maybe if he won he wouldn't have to have sex with anyone. He didn't care about intimacy. Lust and love were two things he always desired to have, but he knew that someone like him couldn't experience either without coming up battered and bruised on the other end. No one would have a freak. Maybe Wrynsk wasn't deformed. Maybe he had a clear-cut role in life. But his handler was some other story. It was a time like this that made Wrynri wish he Impressed to something that never chased, ran, or flew.
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Post by theknightwhosaysni on Feb 22, 2011 13:13:57 GMT -5
Frisk was not at all disappointed by her first arrival. A brown, wild though he was, was the first to come, the first to answer her call. She was worthy of the brown, but she still appreciated his arrival. He got extra points for being first, though Frisk was not going to make her decisions yet. But this Oosk, this brown, was he fastest arrival. She was proud of that. Her first suitor was a brown. Yes, she was quite obviously worth it, but she hadn't expected it.
But Frisk wasn't going to go easy on him. With a hiss, she began to move faster, completely ignoring her suitors. Still, she observed them. Obelisk was the next arrival, Frisk noticed with a pleased noise. The fact that he growled at Oosk did not go unnoticed. The only problem was that, well, she could take care of herself. Frisk snarled, low in her throat, and extended her legs, picking up her pace. The lust made running easier. She could move faster with barely any effort. And if the males couldn't keep up with her, well, they were not worthy of her in the first place.
Then there was Resk. Resk the brown. A lazy one at that, but one that was running his hardest for her. She was pleased by that, but she hissed softly at his appearance all the same. They thought that they could win her so easily, didn't they? They were absolutely, completely wrong! If they did not pour their heart and soul into Chasing her, they would be sorely disappointed. They would lose her, and what male would want that? There could only be one winner, but she expected all of her males to pull more than their own weight.
Frisk bobbed her head lightly at his snarl and extended her legs, eyes whirling fiercely with purple. She was not an angry Red wher or a fierce Queen. She would not maul her suitors for fighting amongst themselves. That was up to them. They could fight amongst themselves. She, Frisk, would not take that right away from them. Of course, that didn't mean that she liked it, but Frisk wouldn't control them.
Wrynsk. Her latest arrival was Wrynsk. Another brown. That made three. She was pleased by that total. Almost all of her chasers were Browns. Almost all of them were her clutchsiblings, but that was a less important detail. Three browns and a blue wasn't bad for a green. Frisk was pleased by that, but she still wasn't going to go easy on them.
They had been running too slowly for too long, Frisk decided a few seconds later. With a snarl, Frisk threw herself into the air, clearing a fallen log with ease. She was ready to test the males, to challenge them! She'd like to see them try and catch her, though she would not allow it until she was ready to choose.
A low growl escaped the green as she bounded forward, swerving to narrowly avoid a tree and leaping to clear a rock in her path. She wasn't going to let them off easy. There was going to be trees and rocks aplenty before she was ready to settle on one. Another leap and a small ditch was cleared.
Frisk slowed for a moment, twisting her head back to look at her Chasers. The three browns and the one blue. The three bondeds and the one wild. The first arrival was a wild. The three following were bonded. They were less fierce, but they were all her Clutchsiblings. She had known all of them except for the wild.
But weighing the pros and cons was boring. With a snort, Frisk whipped her head forward once more and lunged away, inhaling deeply. Her legs were beginning to burn, but she would not stop before she absolutely had to.
And as Frisk ran, Frino observed. With the first arrival, the wild brown, no one came. He frowned slightly, but he accepted that. That was all right. He could live with that. There had better be other suitors, though. What was the fun in Runlust if there wasn't anyone for him to jump? The young man pouted at the thought, but he perked up almost immediately when Obelisk's arrived. And Rethalt, soon after. Frino almost purred and he wriggled eagerly at the sight of his friend and the handsome bluerider. The lack of Wrynri made him frown slightly, but Frino was pleased with his haul all the same. Two handsome young men. What more could he ask for? [/blockquote]
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Post by Admin on Feb 27, 2011 19:13:51 GMT -5
Never had a lover, I never had a lover, Never had soul, I never had soul.
Obelisk chased Frisk. And chased and chased. She went faster and he strove to follow. He did not have her speed nor her lust. While the idea of losing did not press quickly into his mind, there was no reason he had to chase. He could leave, go back to his bonded, but he would not go! His handler did not matter then. He was as strong as any and for her, he would run. Over logs and around trees, he went, gnarled feet pounding the ground. His strides weren't quite in rhythm. His breaths came short and fast. To pursue was no beautiful dance. It was hard, but that was the point. It had a difficulty you didn't even consider. When push came to shove, you simply ran because that was what your body told you to do. You ran to catch every glimpse you could of a beautiful green. If you were there for anything more, Obelisk was certain that you were doing it wrong.
Two other browns had joined the first to try their hand at chasing Frisk. Obelisk did not recognize them as his clutchbrothers. Maybe dimly, far back in his mind, he could tell who they were based on instinct, but he did not have the space in his mind to name them. He was beyond names. He was not Obelisk. He was simply a blue, running to catch a pretty green. The only blue, in fact, the only blue amongst three browns. Did that make them better? Perhaps, in the minds of some at least. However, even with his mind full of little but Frisk, he was a philosopher. A gentleman, stalwart, calm, and forever true. The browns were bigger, but why did that matter? The beautiful Frisk was smaller than even he, the size of a very large canine, nothing more. She needed to be no more than that; she was perfect. If he ran fast enough and hard enough, he could catch her.
Obelisk's legs burned terribly and his body ached. The browns were pushed from his mind. To keep up, he had to focus only on her, trying to know where she was going to go before she went there and failing half the time. He was not the strongest blue out in the world. It didn't match his personality. He'd grown up to be large enough, but he was still nothing compared to the browns and he was skinny. Like Frisk. He was skinny like Frisk! She was so pretty and slender. While humans or dragons would have found her wrinkled physique strange, he adored it. He knew that while she ran, she was prettier than all of her sisters. She was perfect. Right then, he was too tired to see anything but perfection. He forced his legs to obey, forced them to continue in pursuit of her, so he could catch one more look. Then one more. His eyes glowed red in the dark.
In Frino's room, Obelir just stood there. He wanted Frino. He didn't even know why he wanted the greenhandler. In the morning, he certainly wouldn't remember why. However, that didn't matter. He wanted Frino and nothing was going to change that. Frino was Frisk. Obelisk and Obelir found them so very pretty, so very perfect. Nothing could shatter the moment, so Obelir held still, not knowing what to do. If he had personally had any idea of what to do, he probably would have gotten closer, but the often awkward young man needed more prompting than that, so he kept his distance even as the hazy clutch of wherlust grew worse. He wasn't going to make a move unless he was told to make one. He wouldn't make a move until Obelisk did and the blue would make no attempt at Frisk until the green chose him. An addled Obelir could do nothing but stand there.
Don't you wanna come with me? Don't you wanna feel, My bones on your bones? It's only natural.
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Post by purnip on Feb 28, 2011 2:19:56 GMT -5
Wrynsk had little trouble with the obstacles, but he payed for his precision with speed. Surely the slowest of the lot, this Brown was careful to leave no room for error. He often thought things through a great deal more than his brothers and sisters, and many a time, such was a blessing. Tonight however, he would be finding himself at the back of the line for most of the run, and it was not for lack of trying.
Despite how his handler felt, Wrynsk wanted to chase. He felt strongly driven to succeed through all of this and had practically forgotten all about the human. Like just about every wher that every ran, he was wild that night. He belonged to no one but Frisk, and he would chase her for as long as it took. He might have been the slowest, but at least he was to match the course by making thoughtful maneuvers. It was better to show off skill in the end, wasn't it? The Brown was confident enough to believe that. Always second-guessing himself, he had no room for such behavior. Frisk would only have the best of him, and he would be better than everyone else in the chase combined. Even the siblings whom he began to regard as mere familiars. Wild, just for this one hot minute, even his guard on Oosk was dropping.
He cleared the log like a seasoned athlete, though his hesitation beforehand did put him back a bit. Because he had some space before him, he was able to weave around the next few obstacles without encountering any problems. He called out to Frisk, a charming little whistle, ending it abruptly as he briefly wondered if it was out of place. What, singing his love a tune? There was nothing wrong with that! Wrynsk could sing all night if it would please her. He would sing to their children too, if they had any.
Wrynri was shutting his eyes tight, trying not to see or feel anything. The lust within him grew, as well as the reckless abandon that settled into his wher. His mind began trying to reason with his rationale, tempting him to go and let fate decide. They wont hate you for being different, it would say. And if they did, they don't deserve to be your friends, do they? But it wasn't just about having friends. When the people at the Hold knew what he was, they treated him as if he were less than human. He couldn't go back to that. That was why he ran away from it all. If people started to treat him like that here, he would have to run away again. How would he and Wrynsk be able to manage on their own? It wasn't healthy for a wher and his handler to be out on their own. The two Black whers that attacked Siraunesk not long ago were a testament to that. So there was a lot more at risk than friendship. His way of life was at stake. Yet his mind continued to bargain. There are all sorts of people here, with darker secrets too. Don't be afraid. Show them you don't care about what they think and they can't hurt you. Wrynri continued to struggle. He wasn't sure if it was the runlust talking or not. It sounded like the better idea. Besides, this was Frino. They had some good times together. He was sure the boy wouldn't mind...too much. Or maybe he wouldn't even remember.
Letting go of his legs and slowly getting to his feet, the Brownhandler stared longingly out towards the fields for a moment. He wanted to run too. Far away, to chase after something beautiful to take all his troubles away. He knew it was easier than that. He could just go down to the caverns and let him and his wher just melt together. Before the handler knew it, he was already on his way towards Frino's quarters. There was no harm in wanting to be free for a while and to forget oneself. He didn't think his friend would hold that against him. So on he went, until Wrynri was finally where he needed to be. There was Rethalt and Obelir, one a good friend and the other an old mate from wherlinghood. Wrynri became a little shy at the entrance before moving to Rethalt's side. A friendly face brought him some comfort. He trained his eyes on Frino however, the main attraction. He hadn't realized how attractive he was before. Was it wrong? Wrynri chose to be a boy because he thought he could love women like most men did, but he did spend most of his life as a girl before he came to Dalibor. But it didn't make Rethalt or Obelir any less manly to look at Frino in the same longing fashion. So Wrynri through caution to the wind. He was slowly being drawn in by Frino's hypnotic beauty, and how he wanted to win his approval most of all.
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Post by blue on Mar 2, 2011 11:38:42 GMT -5
When the blue arrived and growled at him, Oosk merely flicked one stumpy wing out dismissively. No mere blue could equal him, especially not a pampered bonded, cared for all his days by pesky humans. This Obelisk wasn't even worth the attention of a return growl. He was nothing, and he could not stop Oosk from claiming a mate this night. A fight would merely distract him, and Oosk had no interest in that just now.
The next to arrive was another brown—finally, a real competition! Oosk returned the snarl with a growl, pumping his own legs harder in response to the challenge. This newcomer was young and unscarred. If he wanted a fight, Oosk would give it to him—after he was victorious in catching Frisk. He was not going to allow himself to be distracted from his prize, not even when a third bonded wher arrive, yet another brown.
Good. No bronzes or irons to outlast him, and none of the bonded whers felt as experienced as he was, not even the green they chased. This was his prize, the others were just there to give him someone to beat. At least the latest arrival didn't try to attack him, though he did get in the way of the more aggressive brown. They were all there to chase, Oosk reminded himself. No fighting until after he won.
The green sped up, jumping over logs and dodging around obstacles. Oosk matched her for speed and jumping, though the rocks and trees were more difficult to avoid. One of the browns fell behind, and the blue seemed to be beginning to lag as well. Oosk would have bugled in triumph, but he had no breath for it. All he was was devoted to catching the pretty green.
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Post by theknightwhosaysni on Mar 4, 2011 21:43:12 GMT -5
My heart stops, When you look at me. Just one touch, Now baby, I believe...
Wrynri! A wide smile stretched across Frino's face as Wrynri arrived. The other male didn't look happy, but Frino tuned that out completely. Now, he was happy. He had all of his handsome boys to match with Frisk's bonded suitors. Obelir-Obelisk, a bluehandler that he didn't know very well. But he was very nice looking. Frino grinned as he swept his gaze up and down, surveying Obelisk-Obelir. There was also Rethalt-Resk. His good friend who was . . . handsome yes. Very good looking, but then again, so was Wrynri-Wrynsk's. Frisk's thoughts infiltrated his own, swirling to blend with his. She was impartially interested in all of them. The friendship with Wrynri and Rethalt was rapidly fading from Frino's mind, losing all importance to the greenhandler. Right then, it was about whose wher could prove themselves... Friendships, no matter how important the flighty Frino thought them to be, would have no baring on Frisk's decision, and she was making that clear.
Frisk's legs were beginning to ache, even more so than before. It was making it harder for the young green to focus. Her muscles were burning and every once in a while, she fluttered her stubby wings, hoping that they would provide her with some extra thrust, some extra power to keep her in front of her Chasers for just a little bit longer. She wasn't ready to settle, to pick a winner. Not yet.
With a soft rumble, Frisk swerved sideways to avoid the nearest tree and dug deep to sprint again, remaining on the path that she had taken to avoid the nasty tree that had dared get in her way. Frisk carefully fixed her path so that she was still running in roughly a straight line. Frisk didn't want her suitors to get lost. Lust kept the green wher going, but there was still a kindly note to her thoughts. There would only be one winner, and she wanted those that remained to be able to find their way home.
Frisk dug her talons into the earth and bounded forward again. She had begun to slow. She knew that she was tiring and that soon, a suitor would have to be chosen. But this heady freedom and the strength in her muscles that was spurred onwards by lust was not something that Frisk wanted to give up any time soon. She could so easily clear fallen trees and ditches, and rocks proved to be no obstacle to her. It was amazing to feel as free as this...
Frisk slowed and whirled around, fiercely whirling eyes fixating upon each of her suitors in turn. From Resk, the one who was notorious for being less driven than her other Clutchsiblings, to Oosk the wild and fierce brown, to Obelisk the mannerly blue to Wrynsk, her kindly clutchsibling. How was she to decide from these? Frisk hissed, lashing her tail in the air. She was supposed to decide? That was completely unfair!
The decision didn't take long for Frisk to make, though she regretted the fact that she couldn't chose all of them and make all of them happy...
Wrynsk.
[/i] Frisk proclaimed with a pleased sound. She moved to stand with her mate, surveying the other whers fiercely. If they disputed her decision, she would fight them. That was the way of the wher, no matter how non-violent they were. Frisk would defend her choice if she had to. Frino, meanwhile, was on his feet the moment that Frisk proclaimed her decision. The lust rose up in him like a tide, and a distantly amused thought, one that came from far away, informed him that dragonflights were worse than this. But Frino didn't really care about that. He shook his head to drive the thought away as if it was a bothersome fly and smirked delightedly in Wrynri's direction. If he had been thinking more clearly, he would have tugged Rethalt into the pile of Runlust that this was likely going to be... Or Obelir, to be honest. But Frisk's world had narrowed down to Wrynsk and that had made Frino's world narrow down to the amazingly handsome Wrynri. Frino pressed his mouth against Wrynri's and smiled into the kiss. If Rethalt or Obelir chose to join this, well, so much the better... This is real, So take a chance, And don't ever look back, Don't ever look back... [/size][/blockquote][/center]
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Post by purnip on Mar 7, 2011 16:59:44 GMT -5
Wrynsk was beginning to tire as well, but he still had an awful lot of endurance behind him. He was pushing himself so hard to gain some speed without sacrificing his accuracy as he weaved through the trees and stones. There was nothing he wasn't willing to do at this point to win Frisk's favor. His nature was something he couldn't help, but he at least tried to facilitate it by maintaining some degree of control. In the heat of things, Wrynsk hadn't noticed how the Green was making it easy for them to be able to find their way back. He wasn't thinking that far ahead; that was too much to ask of any wher in a Run. All he could think about was pleasing her and being the very best candidate out of the four whers that chased after her. Though they were forgotten as individuals, he did not show any further aggression towards them as long as they respected his space. If they were going to start trying to bump him off course, he would surely remember them and take offense.
Fortunately for them all, it was a well-behaved run thereafter. No one attacked anyone and they were all able to give Frisk the attention she deserved. Wrynsk was still whistling to her up until the final stretch, where he saved his breath for panting. He hoped he wasn't coming off as some silly canine, so he did try to close up his mouth as often as possible.
Wrynri-Wrynsk was successfully letting his inhibitions go, even if that sliver of doubt remained, irking at the back of his subconscious like a sour note. No doubt that note would grow stronger once the lust was gone, but for now it was so easy to forget trivial things such as a lifelong identity crisis. He too was beginning to feel the strain and the overwhelming desire to win. Why should he be denied such a thing? All because his body couldn't decide on the proper genitalia? He was still a human being! Eyes locked on Frino-Frisk, he had forgotten about all the other boys in the room. They didn't matter to him right now, even though he couldn't quite wipe Rethalt clean off his slate. He loved him too, sometimes. Definitely loved him if both lost. All the desires Wrynri had locked away out of fear and embarrassment were surfacing. Not all the men here, but the two who were his closest friends...he wouldn't mind having them both. Tonight however, Frino was at the top of the list. How could he refuse such a lovely face?
As the Green slowed and turned to face them, Wrynsk was finally able to catch up to the others and stand beside them, waiting so eagerly for Frisk to make her choice. He would let her because well, he thought it would be rude to approach. It was her run after all, not his. She deserved to choose. The Brown was adamant about one thing, however. He wanted to be the top pick. He stood strongly, indecisive as to whether a prouder stance or a meeker one was the best option. He watched her hiss and fret over which of them she wanted, because they each had a trait or two that appealed to her. Then she settled on him. She spoke his name. He tensed and allowed her to approach him before he folded a stubby wing over her and nuzzled her lovingly. He had been chosen! He made it clear with a merry bugle before he settled with loving Frisk again. He didn't challenge the others, or gloat about his victory. The consequence was mutual. They all knew that if they tried, or if they dared to butt in, he would attack them without hesitation. He wasn't sure about Resk though. He stopped thinking about him a long time ago. If he butt in, the reaction was well unknown. Wrynsk was non-confrontational, just protective of those he loved. He cared about his clutchsiblings, but if they tried to harm either one of them right now, he would teach them a lesson in pain.
Wrynri's heart went aflutter when Frisk had chosen, as he was hardly himself at the moment and yet enough of it to be downright flattered. He allowed himself to be drawn into that kiss, no hesitation about it. Tonight he was a man, without a doubt in his mind, and Frino was his mate. As long as he didn't allow logic to rear its ugly head, he would be able to--for the first time in his life--be completely sure of himself.
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Post by aikastarr on Mar 8, 2011 0:04:17 GMT -5
The chase was long and hard, but Resk wasn’t about to give up. He didn’t often show it, but he was actually more fit than would be expected due to his particular love of sleep. He followed Frisk loyally throughout the entire Run, and he thought it of utmost importance to keep near the middle of the pack, to not seem arrogant or haughty. In all honesty, it was a decent plan, but in the long run, maybe it wasn’t the best thing to do. Watching the vibrant green’s every move, the brown mimicked her course, though he stumbled trying to narrowly avoid the tree that she dashed around.
Rethalt was in a dazed stupor, watching the room with only a vague flicker of his own mind. He saw as Wrynri eventually entered the room. A growl was let out under his breath, though if it were heard, it could either be counted as a threat or a sign of arousal. If anything, it was probably both.
It seemed like an age had gone by once Frisk slowed to watch her suitors. Resk had taken a seated position by his brethren and the stranger. A hiss was aimed at Oosk, but other than that, all attention was focused on Frisk. He thought that he did well! He had followed her loyally without breaking a sweat (okay, maybe he was a bit fatigued, but the lust was driving that off)! She was choosing now, she was headed towards them, the green beauty was choosing…
Wrynsk. His brother. Not him. In a scream filled with the sorrow of loss, Resk turned on his heel and left. Wrynsk was at the back of the pack! How did that merit anything?! In his foggy state of mind, Resk’s brain didn’t process that maybe Frisk had taken into account that she saw him as lazy. Either way, it didn’t change anything. Resk had lost, and he would have to see the winner of Rethalt’s love every night, and that memory of that Run would rear its ugly head every time.
Back in Frino’s Weyr, Rethalt’s heart went plummeting down when he saw his fancy lock lips with Wrynri. Sure, he held affections towards both of them, but at that moment, his hopes, dreams, hell, his entire being was destroyed. So what did he do? Simple: He just collapsed on the ground where he stood, shaking from the lust and combined sorrow. All that was emitted from him besides the shivering was a soft whimper. Whether or not Frino or Wrynri dragged him off with them he did not know; all that ran through his mind was “He never loved me. Not then, not now, not ever.”
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Post by Admin on Mar 8, 2011 12:30:49 GMT -5
I only say these things to you, When you're sleeping, I hear the hum from the wires, And the sounds of the morning creep in.
Frisk had chosen. Not interested in a fight, Obelisk broke off, turning back to the Weyr. He ran at first, but soon he slowed. His body was tired and his mind was as well. No point in going too quickly. The disappointment was there, but so was a resignation to the fact he would forget. There would be other greens who would run. None the same as Frisk, of course, but perhaps he would catch Dusk. There was always a future, one he couldn't see. However, the fact he could not imagine it did not keep it from existing. He lived in faith. He trusted Frisk's choice. At least she hadn't picked that wild brown. Perhaps he should have stayed? To chase the brown off? No, Wrynsk would protect her. He was done. The run was complete. It was time to return to the Weyr. His home. He could not imagine living in the wild or anyplace else. How did you remember your loyalty if you were out there?
Back in Frino's room, Obelir slumped lightly, the lust tapped out, leaving him feeling hollow. Losing never was fun, was it? Still, he was a good sport. He simply wasn't overly interested in the results of a run. Wiping his hand across his brow, he looked around, blinking to clear the blurriness from his vision. His eyes purposefully skipped over the site of Wrynri and Frino scrambling at each other. They settled on Rethalt, who seemed to have taken the effects of his loss far worse. The pitiful form huddle on the floor confused Obelir, but more than anything, it made him aware of what he had to do. Still ignoring Wrynri and Frino, because he really didn't need to look at that, he leaned over, grabbed Rethalt under his arms, and hauled him up with a grunt. The brownhandler was heavy for a skinny lad like Obelir, but he was strong for his build. He would manage.
The bluehandler carried the addled brownhandler away. In fact, he carried his load back to his room. It was an innocent choice though. He deposited Rethalt on his bed, threw a blanket over him, and then crouched down, looking at the other boy, knowing he probably wasn't being noticed. He'd seen runlust before. Never thought about it much, but it seemed like it could be a real Bitran if you got caught up. Obelir didn't. He just got embarrassed, blushed, and moved forward. That was his manner. "It'll all seem better in the morning;" he assured Rethalt. Then he awkwardly patted the other handler's shoulder and left. Come on, Obelisk. Meet me in the bowl. Someone has to stand guard tonight. We're out three. That leaves another nineteen, but, well, duty, you know. The blue made no response, but he picked up the pace, jogging stiffly out of exhaustion back to his handler. Real love, eh? Means going crazy just to let someone you love try to love another.
I turn over again, And I feel my heart beating faster, And I stare out the window, And I think that I might scream.
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