Aloft, Aloft, Pay Attention {Plot!}

[Admin]

From yesterday, it's coming!
From yesterday, the fear!
From yesterday, it calls him,
But he doesn't want to read the message yet.

Kalith banked left, away from the other dragonesses flying to her right, tipping them off to move with her using a mental command. The wing, her wing, flew in a diagonal line - the copper Queen at the front, red Waroth back and to right, orange Vhrenth back and to the right yet farther.

They were a small wing. Using a line pattern was the easiest formation for them, especially for just doing a plain sweep for exploration over the continent. She knew what she was doing; her rider came up with these strategies. Either way, it felt good to stretch her wings and lead her wing. They could use all the practice they could get, and all the exploration of the continent they could get as well, for the coming of Thread in far too few turns for them. Under direction from her rider, she'd guided them between to the eastern side of Crescent Bay. From there, they'd moved inland.

The eastern area of the continent was rocky and barren, given it was higher than western parts and made up of windy plateaus and low mountains. They flew over dry lands with scraggly bushes and sparse grass and plains colored yellow-green with little water now that summer was setting in. Given that they'd left after lunch and afternoon was setting in, it was warm. The sun hung in the blue sky with it's few wispy, white clouds. The Western Continent could mainly be described as 'temperate' but it got a little snowy in the winter and a little bit uncomfortably hot for some in the summer.

Fajra and Kalith didn't care about the heat; they flew onward, proud and true. Born in the south, they were folk of warmth and blue oceans. The land wasn't exactly what they'd been brought up on but they weren't bother by the day's weather; they liked it. Well, the Weyrwoman didn't waste the brain space to care since she was focusing on working; the Queen loved the warmth though.

Despite the harsh landscape and its dissonance from their old home, they felt utter pride as they skimmed a few hundred feet above the ground. Bay Weyr was no longer their home, their Weyr. They were no longer a Weyrwoman and a Queen there; they no longer protected Point, Bay, Cast, and the surrounding regions. They protected Crescent and Western; they were the Sr. Weyrwoman and Queen of Dalibor Weyr. This was there home; this was where they would have to protect.

That would be the reason that they were conducting wing practice by flying over as much ground as they could. There trio could fly patterns well enough already; they needed to get to know the lay of the land. Also, Waroth and Vhreth had been given firestone bags and there was a flamethrower strapped in safely on the copper's riding straps. They could get some flaming runs in and beat back some of the little vegetation as well, not that they would be able to do much.

Kalith, move down and out for a more through sweep on the upcoming plateau; Fajra told her dragon. Red hair covered with a helmet, blur eyes off-colored with tinted goggles, she sat astride her dragon as they flashed over they ground without the slightest worry. Well, she was worried, or, more, preoccupied, as she peered down at the ground, which she was carefully examine as best she could with thoughts on its composition and uses among other things. Not that it was good for much; there wasn't anything that was really good for farming. You could find some tubers and herbs but there wasn't much else inland on this half of the continent

Waroth, Vhrenth, widen the distance between each other sideways and follow me down. Keep your eyes open and tell your riders the same; Kalith ordered the orange and red crisply and clearly. Passing through a patch of hill-like mountains, they came out over the wide piece of raised, flatland and the Queen was descending, closer, and closer to the ground. She didn't hardly have to alternate how she was positioned in her flight, such an expert in the air; she just sort of descended, silent except for the 'twaps' of her wingbeats. In truth, she'd found the perfect bit air to help her drop down and subtle changes were enough to catch it.

However, the plateau ended quickly. Kalith muttered something reminiscent of a curse to her rider, but she rose again, cuing the other dragons to follow her. In front of them was a cliff that rose up into a set of hills at the top, disguising whatever lay beyond it. They were going deeper and deeper into the inlands, into an area that was unmapped between the northern coasts, where the Weyr and Crescent lay, and the areas around Western. It was uncharted territory, flying over it was like an adventure. Fajra didn't particularly care about that though.

For a fortune he'd quit,
But it's hard to admit,
How it ends and begins,
On his face is a map of the world.

[xena2009]

She'd been up since dawn, knowing she would be on sweep with Fajra. She didn't mind. She truely didn't. But today, today was just not a good day. She'd fallen out of bed because of a nightmare, and then tripped and nearly fell flat on her face when she'd went down to the Dining Cavern for an early morning meal. The nightmare had really disturbed her, but she couldn't remember what it had been about now that she was awake.

The moment she felt her lifemate shift, she knew Vhreth was responding to an order from Kalith, or even Waroth. She resumed her survey of the ground below her. She felt excitement welling up in her stomach. She hadn't been this excited since the Gather at Crescent Hold. She took mental notes of formations, vegetation, where rivers flowed, and animals that would be good for dragon hunting.

Going over a small clearing, Arsana noticed a good sized herd of herdbeasts roaming through the clearing. She estimated at least a good seventy five herdbeasts. She made a mental note of their location and direction, she'd check up on the herd later. She kept her eyes out again as Vhreth came over another stretch of land. She surveyed this stretch the same way as the previous stretch, breaking the stretch of land into sections and mentally noting every detail of the land from her position on Vhreth. Even asking her orange lifemate to circle back and go over one parcel of land a good three times before going onto the next one.

[Admin]

I know there's a place you walked,
Where love falls from the trees,
My heart is like a broken cup,
I only feel right on my knees.

Up, up, Kalith lead the way towards the top of the cliff, beating her wings over and over to slowly rise up. Her graceful, long neck was stretched in a very slight arch, pointed upwards; she wanted to see what was ahead of her. It frustrated her that she couldn't see over the cliff and the hills, onto the next plain or plateau or whatever it was. Something hummed in her conscious, something poking at her queenly sixth sense, sort of like when she felt the weather coming. It was an instinct. It wasn't some thought from her rider, nor one from her rider's irritating. It was . . . something, something irritating.

After a good hundred feet of rising, they were over the jagged top of the cliff. The only thing that appeared in their vision now was a wall of green hills, much greener than most of the areas, with grass and brush growing on them. Apparently this area was still getting enough rain to keep it healthy, lording itself over the lower lands behind them, which were sparsely covered in grass. Shaking her head in frustration at these stupid landforms in her way, the copper beat her wings a few more times, putting an extra bit of length and strength to each to add a little more height gain with every stroke than she had been before. Finally, she was up, over the tallest of the hills in sight, and she was soaring forward then. Again, she shook her head, a demonstration of her aggression and strength. Once again, she was free. The something faded.

The green hills stretched on for a handful or two of rolling seconds of flight as she led her wing onward; the Queen sensed Vhreth had fallen back though. She sent a simple, wordless message to the orange, emphasize with the flick of her tail - 'hurry!' On her back, Fajra looked ahead, ignoring her dragon's temper and flare. The end of the hills was insight once they were above them. Beyond them, the land returned to being yellow and dead. They were almost to the end of the hills . . . And there was a flash of orange and brown. Something, two forms, were rising upwards, towards were they were.

Who are you?
Who, who, who, who?
Who are you?
Who, who, who, who?

[Kila]

MineOwn; a commanding voice suddenly demanded in the mind of the young woman sitting on the ground of one of the many tracts of the uncharted Western continent. Look to the skies. Someone approaches us.

Varya immediately sat upright, her head snapping over her shoulder to peer up into the sky with piercing caution. There was no trace of panic in her mien, and the only alarm was readiness. She had been stretching and Alizadehth, Hers, was sunning nearby. The relaxed, complacent feeling pervading their clearing, however, was shattered with Alizadehth’s call to attention. For a few candlemarks dragon and rider stared into the sky in unison, perfectly still and completely concentrated. Then, as if on mental cue, both forms bolted, each leaping agilely to her feet and hiding herself from sight. Alizadehth had only to crawl into an outcrop of rocks, the earthy color of her orange hide blending in deceptively with her surroundings. Varya tucked her narrow shoulders rolled sideways into a nearby bush; lying on her stomach and propping herself up on her elbows and toes to again resume the sky.

Alizadehth… who is it? she inquired in a hushed tone, even though only Hers who could hear. Varya’s body was tense, her eyes ever scanning for a sign of what it was that Alizadehth had sensed.
Riders from Dalibor, she informed Varya.

Varya let out a sharp breath, which sounded almost like a hiss. Shells….. She had been avoiding the Dalibor weyrfolk. To be more precise, she had been avoiding everyone on the continent. Her status as a renegade ran more than skin deep. She had abandoned her Weyr for a reason, and it had left her in a certain mindset. There she could not stand out; there she could not do any real good. All they did was wait for thread to fall. She didn’t want to be part of any of their organizations. She, D’ror, and Y’nis were out on their own- the other two men were the only ones she would associate with.

Where is D’ror? she asked Alizadehth suddenly. She was spurred to find this information out as quickly as possible when, thinking of him, she had realized she did not know his location, and because just then Dalibor’s riders became visible in the sky. From the size and the color of the growing dragon blurs, it was clearly the Queens Wing. Where was he? He had been nearby not that long ago! And she could never fully understand what he was thinking…. She didn’t want him to do something impulsive.

But the thought was too late. There, Alizadehth growled. Varya didn’t need to be told. A wall of brown and a huge shadow swooshed by them and briefly obscured their vision. “D’ror!” she shouted in frustration. What was he doing? Why was he rising to meet them? He’s going to ruin everything! Alizadehth!
Here, Mine! As quickly and in sync as the pair had split, they burst from their temporary hiding places. Varya sprinted out of her bush and vaulted onto the already waiting Orange dragoness. Go! she called as soon as her butt hit hide. Alizadehth obeyed, charged by her rider’s motivation.

The two quickly maneuvered into the air and sped after the Brown. “D’ror!” Varya bellowed as loud as her thin frame would allow, “What are you doing!?”

[Admin]

I think I used to have a voice,
Now I never make a sound,
I just do what I've been told,
I really don't want them to come around.

D'rorMine wishes me to inform you to inform Yours that that he is going to have fun; the hulking brown informed the orange politely. Still, he was obediently rising into the air, rising up into the air towards the Queen and her minions. That was what his rider had ordered him to do; he wasn't going to go against his rider's orders for even his beautiful Alizadehth. Knowing that the larger dragoness as coming after him, he added a little more speed to his ascent. The large brown, edging at the normal constraints of his color, wasn't exactly built for speed, but he didn't want for Alizadehth to catch up with him. He had to get to those riders, His said so!

The brown's rider didn't exactly seem to fit with his dragon in any particular way. Where his dragon was wide, muscular, and huge, he skinny and gangly. Tall, yes, and nice enough looking for his thirty-odd years, but not exactly strong and firm looking. There was also something about his smile, and he was smiling, that didn't fit with his dragon's polite, mild manner. That . . . off quality to his smile was also in his eyes. There was something that should be there that wasn't and there was something there that shouldn't be. It wasn't a bad thing. He was just a bit off and it was obvious, and, yet, it seemed like he might utterly know this and was enjoying this. He definitely appeared to be enjoying urging his dragon to head straight for a group of large, possibly violent females from a Weyr who he was camping out in the territory of. Overall, it wasn't the smartest move that a renegade could make. He didn't care. He didn't care about many things.

What exactly are we going to be doing that is going to be fun? I don't think that this might be the best decision to have made, Mine; Abeneth asked his rider. There was worry and curiosity in his tone, but both of the feelings were muted. He continued upwards without any real question. His rider's choices were not to be questioned. Authority was not to be question and his rider was the authority. There was no other authority that could be trusted. That was what his rider said and he didn't question the authority, which was his rider. The brown didn't like trying to think about it too much The brown wasn't exactly anymore normal than his rider.

You want to meet the Queen, don't you? She'll be flying soon . . . Isn't she pretty? So, just keep flying, my handsome boy. His voice was sweet, happy, joyful, and whimsical, very convincing and confident still. It was all over the place - it was knowing in its unknowing, sure in its uncertainty, alive in its lack of life. It was as if the rider just shouldn't be - he was a list of impossibilities, a whisper in the dark, a fable, a myth. He was the sort of person that, if you looked at them hard enough, would either become a nagging worry. They could never disappear all together but they were never quite something you wanted to focus on to hard.

The brown had reached his goal, rising up infront of Kalith and the red and orange behind her. Up, down, up, down, he floated about with each wingbeat he used to keep himself aloft, an ummistakable, wavering presence now like his rider. For a moment, D'ror was simple silent. Then he began to speak; his voice wasn't a yell, but anyone who listened could hear it. "Hello . . ." Obediently taking the cue, Abeneth joined in, speaking to the copper but his voice was in time with his rider. "Fajra/Kalith. I am D'ror/Abeneth. Varya/Alizadehth will be joining us in a moment, I believe." It was unnerving - the brown sounded like his rider. Subtle clues, like who started, made it plain that it wasn't the other way around. Abeneth adored His. He couldn't see why it should be any other way.

Every day is exactly the same,
Every day is exactly the same,
There is no love here and there is no pain,
Every day is exactly the same.

[xena2009]

Arsana had satisfied her curiosity about the land they were flying over and caught up to Wireth and Kalith. Vhreth was not in any real hurry, the sun felt good on her hide and the breeze of the wind passing over her hide to cool it felt incredibly good as well. Arsana looked ahead and spotted a shape moving to meet Kalith and Waroth. Who is that?

No one that I know or recognize. Vhreth replied, increasing her speed.

Arsana leaned forward to offer no resistance to her dragon's flight. She closed her eyes and used her bond with her dragon to see ahead of them and the shapes that were rising to meet Kalith and Waroth. Ask Waroth and Kalith if they are anyone they know.

Ok, Vhreth replied. Kalith, Waroth, mine is curious to know if either of you know the dragons approaching?

[Kila]

Abeneth says that D’ror is going to have fun; Alizadehth relayed contemptuously to Varya. They’re being their normal, irrational selves. Abeneth is stupid- he is a willing slave to His Own’s every command. Though it seemed that the human renegades, or at least Varya and D’ror, were in charge and control of things, Alizadeth was often the cunning intelligence, force, and true mastermind behind their comings and goings. At the moment Varya was in a strong state of mind, one that the Orange could easily mesh and soar with. During these times they were a formidable team. There were instances, though, almost as often as she was bold and magnificent, that Varya crumbled. During those times Alizadeth was obviously in the higher position, becoming fiercely protective of Hers while simultaneously scolding her and throwing out orders to others. She did not understand why this happened and it irritated and confused her.

Sharding man! Sharding, wherry-brained man! Varya cursed, glaring ahead of her at the quickly retreating figured. Her hands clenched her riding straps as she grappled with what to do. Catch them, Alizadehth! But the Orange didn’t need telling; she was already honing in on the Brown without her riders encouragement. She growled angrily when Abeneth sped up his ascent. You’re much faster than he, love, you can do it; Varya urged. I am aware, Mine. This hulking wherry in front of me is large and clumsy compared to me, but he has the lead; Alizadehth snapped matter-of-factly. It was true. Alizadehth’s body was long, toned, and deadly. She and Varya were constantly active and it was clearly reflected in their strength and speed. And yet, Abeneth clearly had the lead on them, having been well on his way towards the foreign riders when they had taken off in pursuit. She was loathe to admit it, but even Alizadehth’s speed would not be enough to catch them.

Shards… Varya repeated venomously as D’ror came to a halt in front of Dalibor’s Queens. Alizadehth echoed her unhappiness. They’ve seen us now, I guess it would be pointless to run. I will take us there;she complied. The air around the pair must have been cold as they rose and took their place beside their renegade comrades. D’ror and Abeneth would be getting an earful later, but for now composure necessary, and Varya and Alizadehth rose to the occasion smartly. Alizadehth held her place with strong wingstrokes, and Varya sat unmoving atop her, back straight and chin up. She did not look at D’ror, nor did she say anything to any of the riders before her. All of their careful avoidance up until now was quickly ruined as they became introduced to the others presence on the continent- face to face.

[Admin]

Not one more sound,
Let your hair down,
Take the low road,
No one will know.

No, we don't know who they are; Kalith hissed at Vhreth, tail lashing at the air as she hovered to stay level with the two dragons that had risen up in front of her. She hated saying that she didn't know anything, let alone that; she wanted Vhreth to shut up though. The brown was not Odyth. The orange was certainly not Vhreth, who had just asked her the question as to who they were. Their Weyr had no other browns or oranges; these two were intruders and weren't supposed to be on the land beholden to them. How dare they be so brash? How dare the brown and his rider speak to her and her rider in that stupid, vaguely amused and far too smug way? However, her rider's reminder that they might just be from another Weyr kept her from openly snapping at the two dragons in front of her. She remained just slightly upset.

Fajra didn't respond to D'ror at first, instead preferring to carefully look him and his dragon over while he waited for the pair that he had identified as Varya and Alizadehth. None of their names sounded familiar - D'ror . . . Abeneth . . . Varya . . . Alizadehth - and there hadn't been any scheduled visitors. Anyway, why would they be out here, where even their riders had never, if rarely, been before? Both of them seemed far too old to be rebellious, troublesome weyrlings, who, on some dare, had thought it fun to go off and explore the new continent. In fact, they seemed very relax and composed, an organized group who seemed very in sync with each other. Logical reasons for their presence exhausted, the Weyrwoman immediately become very wary of the two pairs of unknown origin. Her dragon sensed it and tensed underneath her.

"Who are you and why are you here? And I don't mean what are your names, nor do I want any sort of sarcastic response;" she asked D'ror, speaking too him as if he was actually a disobedient weyrling. Just like her dragon, she didn't like his smug, amused sort of tone and way he had about him. She was more unnerved though by the way Abeneth followed exactly what he did. Anyway, she addressed the brownrider rather than the orangerider as he seemed to be the one in charge out of the two, though she doubted that any orange would like that situation. Maybe Vhreth, who was very calm and polite about her bossiness, but most of their color didn't like the idea of anyone else being in charge. They could stand a King or a Queen being above them, but not a brown or a purple or any other sort of color. Perhaps a large red, if that red got violent on them.

Whoa, I feel just like we're taking control,
Of the night, of the night,
Whoa, I feel just like we're losing control,
But if you let go, I'll let go tonight.

[Admin]

C'mon let's get high,
C'mon look so, you got next, oh,
Walk twenty five miles, oh,
Well, I'm bored, I'm bored.

D'ror sensed when Varya and Alizadehth joined them, but he didn't spare them a glance. Just like with his dragon, he knew and expected that they would follow his lead, though he guessed they wouldn't be pleased with him. He could deal with that later. When the beautiful Weyrwoman finally replied to his introduction, he smiled a crooked smile and fixed his eyes upon her face. She was a good ten turns his younger, but she led her Weyr well; he'd kept his eye on their going ons while here on the continent that they claimed as theirs alone. He supposed that she did have the right to scold him all she liked; that didn't keep him from finding amusement in that. Someone had too after all, since Abenedeth was busy avoiding looking at Kalith in order to be try to be respectful to the Queen while still listening to and following his rider's little plan.

"We aren't much more than are names, and we're here because this is our home. We're the renegades of the Western Continent;" he said with a flourish, half bowing her to as best he could while keep his comfortable position on his dragon's back. Then he laughed. He didn't hold the instinctual respect for the ruler's of the Weyr that his dragon had; he would act around them as he wish. One could guess where he might have gotten into trouble . . . But that wasn't the beginning of it, because what does anyone know about those two? Nothing, right? Even Varya and Alizadehth didn't know everything about them, in all their oddness, though they knew more than most anyone. And he didn't plan on letting them on to anything else; that wasn't the point of this and would ruin the fun of it. The brownrider certainly enjoyed his fun.

Seeing a location fixed in his rider's mind, Abeneth wheeled away from all the female dragons, turning towards the open sky that had been behind him. He sent the same image that his rider had to Alizadehth, knowing that she would know to follow them their as soon as they went. Carefully, he focused on the location and then he was gone between, blinking to a location far across the continent, across the strait and in the middle of no where on the other side. The renegades knew every nook and cranny of the continent, knew where they could go and hide, never to be found again if they didn't want too. The brown did feel an attachment to that continent. It was his home, the place he belonged as long as his rider was there with him. So, in the blackness of between, he looked forward to feeling the sun of his wide, expansive home again.

My Ulysses, my Ulysses,
No, bet you are now, boy,
So sinister, so sinister,
Last night was wild.

[Kila]

Alizadehth did not like this situation one bit. Abeneth was a fool, but he was HER fool. Her eyes stayed fixed ahead on Kalith, staring the Queen down, but she did not fail to notice how the Brown was acting in the presence of the other females- and she didn’t like it. Thrust together as the only known renegade pair for most of the time (for the third member of their group was often out doing his own thing), Alizadehth and Abeneth and Varya and D’ror were couples. Sort of. Some times. It was nothing official, of course, and nothing normal. They were together so much and had to be so in sync that it was natural that something would develop. Out in the vast, underoccupied Western Continent it got lonely, after all, and though, by rank, Alizadehth was only a sub Queen, she regarded herself as the full-blooded Queen of the renegades. She needed, nay, demanded attention, and she would not have her most loyal admirer stolen away by some overgrown, presumptuous Copper. She had no basis for this slander against Kalith, of course, but Oranges generally thought of themselves as elite, above all others, and Alizadehth was no exception.

Varya remained silent, carefully taking in every element of the situation from where she was braced against Hers. It was funny how Fajra paid her little or less heed than her wherry-brained, irrational counterpart. She and D’ror were outnumbered, but side by side, cloaked with the good fortune of the unknown, they wielded a certain amount of power. People, or at least those who were smart, had to be careful with things they didn’t know a lot about. She had taken careful pains to find out as much about Fajra and her Weyr as she could, and she knew that the Weyrwoman was no fool. Thus, whatever secrecy they could retain about their person was to the renegade’s advantage.

This desperately needed trump card would be quickly lost, however, if D’ror kept talking. In one brash, careless reply he had given up their label: "We aren't much more than are names, and we're here because this is our home. We're the renegades of the Western Continent." What on Pern was that man thinking? That is enough;Alizadehth hissed, realizing their deteriorating position as well as her rider. He was right, of course, but that was beside the point. The Western Continent was more of a home than either of them had ever known. It was not, however, the time for sentiments.

And now D’ror was laughing. Abeneth turned and shortly after a set of mental coordinates appeared in Alizadehth’s head. So the brave Brown pair was leaving. Now after almost all of the damage has been done; Varya thought bitterly. Oh D’ror, what were you thinking? She would talk to him about that shortly. Alizadehth, follow them. Yes, Mine.Now the only rider remaining before the strong wing of Queens, Varya gave Fajra one last sharp, secretive look. “Weyrwoman,” she only said in recognition, her voice emotionless, as Alizadehth turned and /betweened/, leaving the dragonesses remaining with an empty sky and quite a lot to think about.