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Harper's Tale 2 - Monday, April 29, 2002, 7:01 PM
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Training Grounds
The marks of thousands of claws give testament to the shuffling of the young dragons that have torn up what little grass once grew in this corner of the bowl. Tucked in between the feeding pens to the south and the curve of the Weyrleader's complex, the training grounds are home to daily exercises and classes, all taking place well out of the way of the hectic bustle of the rest of the bowl. Cut deep into the cliff face, the large, covered openings leading into the extensive weyrling barracks rise high over the heads of any who come near, although the height of the caldera's spindles far above cast their own reaching shadows across the hard packed earth.
It is an autumn afternoon. The sun finally warms the cool air, and the breeze dies down slightly. An occasional wispy cloud floats through the sky.
To the west, you see a gold and a brown dragon.
To the southeast, you see a blue dragon.
Soaring high overhead are four firelizards.
Green Miravith, brown Sidramuntalath, blue Kihaelth, and blue Urzketh are here.
You see LlamaMama here.
Fyria is here.
Obvious exits:
Weyrling Barracks Northern Bowl Pens

Above, Imbriath loop-de-loops in from the Northern part of the bowl.
Above, Imbriath drops towards the ground.
Imbriath glides in from above.

Hyzen, glancing towards the ground far below, slips down the smooth hide of Imbriath and towards the ground with help of lifted paw.

Urzketh rumbles a greeting towards the green, eyes whirling blue-green with admiration. Yes. He obviously hasn't outgrown his crush, yet.

Vorkoroth, hanging about with Wyn at the edge of the Grounds, and doing a little mild reconnaissance of the area, likewise offers a greeting to the descending Imbriath. More of a generally friendly rumble-purr. Crush? Naw. Gurls are wierd.

Rana heads out from the Weyrling Barracks.
Byndareth heads out from the Weyrling Barracks.

Imbriath lands lightly, tucking her wings and bowing her head towards Urzketh with a greeting grumble. Hyzen dismounts, slapping her lifemate's shoulder before grinning at the weyrlings. "Hello you guys. Up for some lessons?" She doesn't move away from her dragon, who is now greeting Vorkoroth with a chuff. "I was thinking we would try ground formations." Eyes take on a devilish twinkle. "Now, we could do it one of two ways, see. Either we can /pretend/ you're on your dragons and march around in display towards those that come and watch, /or/," and she pauses, beaming. "You can ride your dragons around. Your choice." A wave is sent towards Rana and Byndareth, Imbriath crooning a greeting.

Vorkoroth senses Hyzen looking at him.

Fyria finishes adjusting a beltstrap on Urzketh before she finally turns to give the asst. werylingmaster a bright, sunny smile. "Morning Hy...and as always, am quite ready for a lesson. Urk, would agree." The blue beside her rumbles a bass of agreement, eyes whirlign as he turns to Fyria. "And he and I both concur we'd love it if I could ride him, for formations? I think it'd be a wise thing, no?" The last is directed towards her fellow weyrlings gathered int he training grounds.

Rana strolls out alongside Byndareth, whose wuffling and making general noises about something or another, bumbling steps carrying him forward at a decent speed. His human counterpart gives Hyzen a sketchy salute, "G'morning!" She calls gaily to the weyrlings assembled and the weyrlingmaster. "Ooh, a lesson would be...we could ride them?" She abandons her agreement for the eager question, foamy eyes sparkling, and the masked brown rumbles.

"I think," notes Wyn with a ripple of dry amusement, "That I would prefer to let Vorkoroth do the walking, and save myself from a string of mental advisements on how to do better." Vorkoroth croons ingenuously, and whirls hooded eyes. /He/ wouldn't do that. Never! Wyn turns, and, courtesy of Sasha's tutelage, manages a graceful enough mount, after checking the straps.

Lylia wanders in from the Northern Bowl, keeping an eye out for Weyrlings on Patrol.

With the courtly offer of a foreleg, you alight upon Vorkoroth's neck. Good to go.

Vorkoroth [Training Grounds]
Sleek, clean lines are traced in tarnished steel, gleaming bright against the secretive navy of his hide. Form follows function in the simplicity of his face, neither overly snub nor equine-long, eyeridges hooded slightly over unsettling gaze and headknobs contoured close to a short, broad neck. A noble filigree, feathered like a crest of honor, hides in the surreptitious shadows of low-dipping neckridges and sneaks across boxy shoulders and swell of breast. There is only slight narrowing at his waist, leaving his short tail to taper abruptly to its fork, efficient and slick. Thickset limbs plunge into polished boot-black around his paws, silver starlight in his talons tiptoeing in the comet-streaked heavens of wings.
The faint glitter of oil gilds the glossy darkness of a fine pair of riding straps. Looped securely about neckridges, and fastened with military precision by gleaming polished steel buckles, the leather is dyed in a deep and unrelieved shade of midnight blue, wool padding dyed cromcoal black and fitted with a uniformity that speaks more of a desire for symmetry than a need for protection from the supple hide. Straps in the colours of High Reaches deserve the full appearance of livery, after all.
Vorkoroth seems to be listening.

"I thought you guys would see it my way." Hyzen grins at the three. "Check your straps like good riders," a faint eye of disapproval for Wyn's jumping ahead before she continues, "and then mount your dragons." She waits for them to do as she says before she'll make any moves to do it herself. "No moving around until I say," another glance to Wyn-- poor girl.

Fyria gives Hyzen a quick wink and nod, followed by "Will do, Hy." She turns to Urzketh, who cranes his now-larger muzzle around to watch intently. "No, I know you won't let me fall off, love. But I should get into the habit, you know?" She gives him a quick scritch, checks a final strap, then taps his shoulder. "If you will, kind sir?" Urzketh grumbles amusedly, dropping low so she can scamper up his side and settle in his neck, locking herself in with the buckles.

Urzketh's crystalline eyes whirl with excitement as he watches Fyria scramble up to settle between amethyst-edged neckridges.

Wyn is an overachiever. What can we say? She has grace enough to colour slightly, at least. Vorkoroth offers a soothing comment that /he/ thinks things are going too slowly, which prompts a twitch of her lips and a murmured "Shut up and wait, sir."

Lylia lurks in. Duuuun dun. Duuuuun dun. Shark, baby. "If you fall off because of shoddy straps, the rest of the 'lings will be lined up to laugh at you after the lesson!" It's Lylia. Lovely. The brownrider slips quietly around, giving a chipper nod to Hyzen as she casts a quick glance at each 'ling dragon. Druseth also appears out of the woodwork. Just a little dark shadow, t'is all.

Rana nods promptly to Hyzen, hurrying to do just that, Byndareth wiggling excitedly under her hands as she works at the straps that loop his neck. "Aye--er, yes. Just hold still Byn-love." She says in an undertone, hands flitting over buckles and strips of leather, checking all the components. Excitment seems to be over taking the brown, and the warble that escapes his maw is just about song-like as Rana scurries onto his neck.

Rana hoists herself up Byndareth's neck to settle 'tween two dark swathed neckridges.

Betwixt Imbriath's absinthe ridges and creamy straps, Hyzen settles herself into the saddle, making sure she's strapped firmly in so that she sets a good example. Hearing Lylia, she turns in the saddle and gives the Weyrlingmaster a cheery wave and a rather lax salute. "Come to watch, Lylia?" she calls out, head tilted to one side before glancing at the weyrlings. Hehehe. And they thought they wouldn't get laughed at. Clearing her throat, she motions for attention. "We're going to start out with the standard 'V'. Wyn, could you tell me where the Wingleader and his first and seconds are in the standard 'V'? And after she's done, Rana, could you tell me one good reason for this formation?"

From Urzketh's neck, Fyria shifts slightly, getting a bit more comfy between Urzketh's neckridges as she turns to listen for Wyn's and Rana's answer. Leaning forward, she gives the blue's neck a quick pat, then chuckles at a mindtouch. "I know, love..I know," she whisper. Spotting Lylia and Druseth, Fy spares a wave in their direction, then goes silent, watching her fellow weyrlings.

"Yep! Came to make sure they're absolutely perfect in every manuver." And Lylia pulls off that line with a straight face, a solemn nod following. Druseth approaches, and the rider leans lightly against his foreleg, staring at the group with a laughing smile. Fyria gets a half-wave... A wary one. She's waving. She must have done something.

Wyn squirms slightly, being poked by a neckridge until she moves backwards a bit. But she answers the question readily enough. After all, Vorkoroth's had her reading the scrolls for the past /month/. "In a standard 'V' formation, the wingleader takes the point of the 'V' with his wingsecond to his left and behind , if there is one, and on either side, if there are two."

From Byndareth's neck, Rana catches her lower lip in her teeth thoughtfully, listening to Wyn as she replies to the question. As her turn comes she only hesistates a beat before giving her answer, her tone confident, even if her eyes aren't. "It meets the thread at a good...angle, with the riders spaced and spread out and covers a good amount of space. It's also good for cutting through wind." She concludes.

Betwixt Imbriath's absinthe ridges and creamy straps, Hyzen chuckles at Lylia's response to her question, head shaking slowly. "That's good. If they don't listen to me, I have you to back me up." Greenrider gazes at the weyrlings, listening to their replies to her questions. "Very good! Another good aspect of this formation is that the wing can clearly see the hand signals from the Wingleader. Let's see here..." lips purse slightly before she points towards Fyria. "Fyria, you be Wingleader. Wyn, you be left wingsecond and Rana, right. I'll be behind Rana. Lylia, would you like to join us?"

Druseth wanders in from the Northern Bowl, keeping an eye out for Weyrlings on Patrol.

From Urzketh's neck, Fyria chuckles at another typically Urk-ish remark, then sits up straight at her name. "Me..wingleader...yes ma'am!" She sends a mental thought to Urk, and with a rather proud rumble of assent, he lumbers a bit aways from Imbriath and Hy, turning around to face away from the greenpair. Fy swivels around, checking Imbriath's position on the right, and breaks into a grin. "Good Urk..shift a little to the left...good. That'll give 'em plenty of room." His tail lashes as he curves his head around, staring at the werylings and weyrlingmasters gathering behind him.

"Fyria?" Snort. Lylia's head shakes, braid bopping to and fro as she gives a weyrlingmasterish snort. She approves of Wyn and Rana, certainly. They're rather pleasant. Especially Rana, such an oh-so-sensible color to ride. "Sure. You want me behind Wyn?" And her big hunk o' sexy dragon?

From Byndareth's neck, Rana relaxes slightly, probably in relief that she pulled that one off, but she soon straightens to alertness again. "Yes'm!" She agrees with a grin, a fond look transferred to the dark hide beneath her. All instructions to her brown lifemate must be transferred mentally, for she doesn't speak, but the young dragon begins to shuffle with even more awkwardness than he usually displays when excited, eventually finding his way to his way behind and right of Fyria and Urzketh.

Wyn quells a mental grumble from Vorkoroth that /he/ would make a far better wingleader with the murmur of "Even leaders have to follow orders..." and soon has him hop-skipping over to take his place in the assigned location, striking a natty little parade-rest stance. Of course, tell him he's showing off and he'll snort.

Tevya heads out from the Weyrling Barracks.

Betwixt Imbriath's absinthe ridges and creamy straps, [OOC:] Hyzen says "Don't forget Kihaelth. ;)"

Lylia swiftly scales up to Druseth's neck, finding a spot to neatly slide between a pair of dark neck ridges.

Kihaelth watches as Tevya hops onto Kihaelth's outstretched forelimb, before getting a boost onto %

Betwixt Imbriath's absinthe ridges and creamy straps, Hyzen waves towards Tevya as she and Kihaelth enter. "You're late, Tevya!" tsktsk. "You get to take my place behind Rana." Imbriath moves backwards several steps, rumbling softly as whirling eyes watch the weyrlings. "Well done, Fyria. Hold that position until the rest of us have taken ours." Lylia is given a broad wink and a stage whisper, considering the length between their dragons: "Maybe she'll learn a bit of responibility in that position." The woman is laughing though, so it's more of a tease than anything. "And yes, behind Wyn if you would, my good Weyrlingmaster Lylia." Beam. "Don't worry, you'll all get to lead before the lesson is over." She waits for Tevya to join the formation.

Relaxing between Druseth's neckridges, "Heh." A little giggle escapes as Lylia nods, a sly look cast at Fyria. "We can only hope." And swinging up onto Druseth's neck in a fluid motion, she lets the brown slink behind Vorkoroth, looking rather looming compared to the young'uns. The brown gives a low rumble, before resting rather passively. Look. He's a good boy.

From Urzketh's neck, Fyria turns to her left, watching Vorkoroth and Druseth settle into position, then swivels back to the right, watching Kihaelth take his place. She narrows her eyes, memorizing the formation of the wing now that's real, and not on a scroll, laughing slightly at a mental observation. "Yes, yes I know it'll look magnificent in the air, my dear. Soon, soon enough." Luckily, she doesn't really catch Hy's comment, but does catch Lylia's, giving her a broad grin. "Be assured, Lylia. I, and Urk, won't disappoint you." Urk puffs his chest up a little - see? He's sooo outgrown that stage. Responsibility, he'll bear like a cloak. With a dash of impishness, yes.

From Kihaelth's neck, Red-faced and charigned, Tevya slips into position, waiting a half moment before slipping into place betwixt neckridges. Kihaelth's rumble is for her ears only as he sends the smallest of whuffs towards her, before shaking his head. "I know.. I know. Laps afterwards, right Kihaelth?" Laps ordered by her lifemate, no doubt. "Okay Kihaelth.. ease into position, will you?" To which her lifemate gives an agreeable whuff.

Wyn laughs quietly as Vorkoroth twitches, rather like a runnerbeast at the start line in a race. If Wyn could ever think up such an equine simile. He gives a slight snort, upper crust disapproval of the lateness of Tevya and Kihaelth, no doubt, although any choice comments are kept between lifemates. T'wouldn't be proper manners, otherwise.

Betwixt Imbriath's absinthe ridges and creamy straps, "Great job everyone! Now, see how easy this formation is? It's practical and one of the more commonly used ones. Fyria, please wave one or both of your arms. If the rest of you will watch, you'll notice how easy it is to read the broad signals of a wingleader to his or her wing." Hyzen pauses, waiting for them to acknowledge this, before going on. "Now, give us the signal for take off and then move forward. This will be our 'flight'. Not too fast or too slow, make sure to keep that space between you and your wingmate in front of you. If you get too close, you'll singe the dragon in front and if you lack, you'll end up getting singed."
s/lack/lag

From Byndareth's neck, Rana lets out a smothered "Yeep!" As Byndareth's excitment causes the bumbling brown to sort of loose his balance in place, weight shifting too much to one side. He straightens up almost sheepishly, but not before the expanse of neck Kir's sitting on dips sideways briefly. "It's...alright..." Rana breathes quietly to her lifemate as they both steady out quickly, and the ex-apprentice brings her attention back to Hyzen.

From Urzketh's neck, Fyria obediently waves her arms above her head after swiveling to face forward again. Urzketh does the same, that is turning to face forward, out into hte bowl. She drops her arms, peering over her shoulder, then with a nod, turns around and lifts her arm in a swift movement, giving the signal for the wing to lift off. Immediately after, Urzketh takes a few shuffling steps forward, a slow, easy pace. "Good Urk..just like that," she says, peering over her right, then left shoulder to make sure everyone's following.

From Kihaelth's neck, Tevya dips her head in a nod before slipping her hand around to pat Kihaelth on the shoulder, "Okay Kiha. Let's.. do this." A tense smile before she glances up to spot Fyria's movements, dropping her chin down into a nod, "Remember that Kiha?" A rumble from her lifemate affirms that.. yes he was paying attention and would do just that, A cheerful grin however is given as Tevya gives her full attention towards Fyria..and lurch. Tevya slides slightly forwards as Kihaelth moves, it taking her a few moments before sycronizing her movements with those of the blue.

Upon Fyria's signal, Wyn offers a little mental nudge to Vorkoroth. Someone who's ridden a runnerbeast might use a leg signal, but Wyn's clueless. It works, in any case, Vorkoroth moving forwards and matching speeds precisely. And apparently effortlessly, if you hadn't been one to catch him out practicing speed control in the early mornings, much to Wyn's chagrin at lack of sleep. "Excellent, Vor," she commends. "Just keep focused."

Druseth restrains his pace, large size giving him an advantage in strides... But not useful when trying to not squish the blue in front of him. Shuffle, shuffle. Lylia lazily unhooks her riding belt, acting as a rather bad example as she leans back, loosely resting upon the 'rides behind her. Yep, baaaaaaad weyrlingmaster. Her absinthe gaze roams over the 'lings ahead. Gotta keep an eye on 'em, after all.

From Byndareth's neck, Rana tightens her grip on the straps around her, perhaps in preperation for anymore future bouts of dragon-clumsiness, and at Fyria's signal, she nods slightly. "Go on Byn." She encourages in a murmur as the brown lurches forward. "Careful..." Rana says quickly, relaxing as the masked browns pace evens out a bit, and she adjusts to the slightly bumbling gait her lifemate has. "There you go love..."

Betwixt Imbriath's absinthe ridges and creamy straps, Hyzen hangs on as Imbriath glides into a slow walk, so as not to run over Kihaelth in front of her, considering her longer stride. "Now, one thing about this formation is that Fyria, being in front as she is, can't look back at us. If she did, it would take her attention off of Fall and Thread might find her so lacking." Gaze is riveted on the looking-back Fyria. "Urzketh is the one relaying orders that aren't a part of hand signals. This formation can be tightened or loosened, according to the way Thread falls." She's quiet, allowing them to shuffle along, and then: "Now, let's loosen this up a bit, though not ridiculously so. You don't want so much space between you and the dragon in front that Thread gets through. Try to keep the even formation." Imbriath, being the tail of the formation, slows her pace even more, widening the gap between her and the blue in front of her.

<Local> Vorkoroth senses that Urzketh extends a sharp, ordimental thought out to the dragons in the 'wing', amethyst colours flaring crystal-like against the others. << You do well - do not walk so close, or as Hyzen says, you would singe each other, yes? >> His thouths drift towards Druseth with a sharpening of the crystal edges as he says << Druseth. Your rider is unbuckled - she should be fully strapped in! >>

From Urzketh's neck, Fyria blushes as she realizes she really /shouldn't/ be glancing back, and immediately turns around to face forward again. "Okay Urk. You're my eyes for the wing, based off the others, got it?" Urzketh rumbles a no-worries assent, continuing to trundle forward at the steady pace. "And good...if Lylia's unstrapped, she'll fall off. Good of you to catch that." She gives him a pat on the neck, then sneaks a quick glance over her left shoulder. Sure enough. Lylia's not buckled in. And they say /Fyria's/ a troublemaker?

From Kihaelth's neck, Tromp..tromp..traipse and tromp. Kihaelth trudges along, Tevya moving along with her lifemate as she sends a glance around. "Little to the left there Kiha.. You're getting too close.. There you are." Easing back down into position, Tevya turns her gaze back onto Fyria and Urzketh, while turning her attention onto Hyzen's words. "How do you know how far away is good..and how close is too close?" A half call to the assistant Weyrlingmaster, Tevya not breaking her gaze from those infront of her, "I mean.. isn't our perception thrown off from being up here?"

<Local> Vorkoroth senses that Druseth gives a wisp of crimson, dark grays sweeping over silent storms. << Do you wish to tell her that? >> He's not gonna try. She can be scary. << ...She says she could dance on my neck during a Fall and not fall off. ...She worries me. >>

<Local> Vorkoroth senses that he offers a smooth grey. <<I should very much like to see that...>> he notes. <<Although Wyn informs me that she thinks the Weyrhealers would rather not.>> Puzzled amusement, and he returns to concentrating on formation in a dissapating whirl of smoke.

<Local> Vorkoroth senses that Kihaelth responds towards his brothers earlier words with a faint wash of verdant green. << Yours was looking back, brother.. >> Yes he had caught that. Not that he would really tattle afterall.

Shuffle, skip, hop-skip. The odd motion of a weyrling dragon somehow manages to stay smooth as Vorkoroth moves onward. Wyn adds her query to that of Tevya's. "Yes... what's the general radius for a dragon's flame burst?"

From Byndareth's neck, Rana has most of her attention on her own balance, since her dear lifemates isn't the best, lets just hope he grows out of it. "Keep an eye out on spacing will you dear?" She asks the brown, who whuffles agreeingly. Lurches begin to diminish as he settles into a smoother shuffle, but there's still the occasional sideways dip and stumble to watch out for. The blonde nods at Wyn and Tevya's questions, "Like...is this spacing good?"

Relaxing between Druseth's neckridges, "/You/ all would fall off. I would remain perfectly fine." Wink. But Lylia gives a little snort, re-hooking her belt. "I'm disappointed how long it took you to notice. You must always be aware of the condition of your wingriders." Bad, bad Fyria. "It's hard to tell at this point, since you don't have experience flaming. When you do, you'll see the distance you need. It can depend a lot on your dragon's size, and particular capacity. In general, keep a good couple meters at all times. For non-flaming activities, sweeps and drills and such, you'll be quite a bit closer. In Threadfall, you just need to know your dragon's flaming capacity." So there's no uncovered ground, and no singed booty. The spacing is examined with a nod. "Very good spacing..." Since Hyzen's distracted, she gives a grin and a nod. "Let's tighten this up more for the moment, though. Pull in closer."

From Urzketh's neck, Fyria snorts at Lylia's comment, adding "It's not /my/ fault Druseth wouldn't tell you sooner. Urk caught it right off the bat, right love?" Urzketh doesn't swing his head around, but lets out a soft bugle of yes-he-did. She doesn't turn around, but instead gets a little sneaky and raises her arm, giving the signal for the group to pull in tighter, at Lylia's request. See? She's been reading the scrolls dutifully. Urzketh sends a thought out to the wing, mentally testing for their location and sending a crystal-laden mindtouch back to his lifemate. All well. So far.

From Kihaelth's neck, "Right," Tevya comments, turning to quickly pat Kihaelth's side in the direction she wanted him to go. This followed with a mental response, to which Kihaelth responds instantly. Slightly chuby blue form slides into place before tucking his wings tighter to his side. Tail sweeps behind him are in control, him holding it slightly aloft as eyes whirl quickly. Funfun!

<Local> Vorkoroth senses that Urzketh twists a rope of blue fire to each dragon in turn, voice carrying the scent of pepperiness with it. << Draw closer, but not too close. Back to the original spacing. And careful, Byndareth - though you shall not be stumbling when we are airborne. >>

Wyn pokes at Vorkoroth again, but a little belatedly. The blue has already decided that it's much easier to just follow draconic orders directly. A wry look as he sidesteps inwards right as she's giving the command. "Thank you," she intones with a touch of amusement.

<Local> Vorkoroth senses that Byndareth acknowledges the cautionary words, tone colored with a musty, disgruntled feel, but his still present excitment undercurrents it. << I am not good on ground, but I try. It is awkward, this *groundriding*. >>

Byndareth's stumblings steps even out even further, though the effort is clear, as his walk slows a bit after a quick, awkward scurry to come in tighter within the formation. "Easy does it..." Murmurs his rider, relaxing when the clumsy stumbles seem to limit themselves. "And I thought getting hit by your tail was bad..." Is murmured fondly.

Relaxing between Druseth's neckridges, "Right." Lylia glowers at Fyria. Glower, glower. That one'll be cleaning her office later, just watch. Druseth slinks in a little closer, keeping a tight formation, his stance proud and strong. Rawr. "Okayyy," Lylia cheerfully calls out. "Let's try and Inverted V. Do you all know it?" They'd better. "Tevya, Wyn, you and Vorkoroth lead, Tevya, you and Kihaelth as wingsecond on the right. Fyria, you and Urzketh as 'seconds on the left. Rana, behind Tev. I'll be behind Fyr." Dun dun DUN.

Wyn has a look of blandly saturnine amusement on her face as Vorkoroth's stance immediately straightens at the mention of command. "Don't go overboard," she cautions, likely halting a spate of orders as the pair maneuver, sidestepping to the centre, and then letting the rest of the 'V' move past them until they're at the back. "Right... Do we hold again until everyone's assembled?" she calls over.

Urzketh gives a disappointed rumble, drawing a soothing pat from Fyria. "No worries, love. You have to give everyone else a try, too." Somewhat satisfied with this answer, he comes to a halt just as Fyria lifts her arm to give the 'halt' signal, then shuffles around in place and takes a short, quick hop-step to the left, into wingsecond place. She warily watches Druseth and Lylia reposition behind them, and turns to face the wing, now infront of them. "Good. Stay put, and wait for Wyn's and Vorkoroth's signal." Tail lashing like an indigo whip, Urzketh rumbles agreement, then waits, whirling eyes watchign the others reposition.

From Kihaelth's neck, "Right, Kiha..move up easily." Repeatitive words yet again, Tevya holding loosely onto Kihaelth's straps as he moves forwards and slides towards the right. A mini whuff there as he checks his position, while keeping his place in the formation. See, he was an attentitie little one.

From Byndareth's neck, Rana gives Byndareth a light nudge, "Just over there." She urges, murmurs and little nudges guiding the lanky brown into place behind Tevya and Kihaelth. "Good, good." she approves softly as they fall into place with minimal acts of bumbling.

Relaxing between Druseth's neckridges, [OOC:] Lylia merps. Okay. I meant in front of. 'Cause. Yeah. I'm not visualizing. :)

Relaxing between Druseth's neckridges, "Yes, please hold until everyone's in place and I chat for a moment." Lylia gives a chipper chirp, Druseth sauntering to plunk himself in front of Urzketh. "In Inverted V, y'all," and Ly turns to point at Tev, Fyr, and Wyn, "All get a lovely view of the wing ahead. Which is great for keeping tabs on the rest of the riders /and/ on the Fall. It's rather good for keeping tight control. /However/, as you can tell, the hand signals aren't going to work. So you have to be in good communication with your dragon. Signals need to be relayed by either your dragon, or verbally, which doesn't work well in Fall. Also, it can be rather mucky for arrangements, since switching to it can shift the positions of dragons and sometimes can tire a wing fast, when it makes blues and greens meet the brunt of fall..." Wyn is gestured back to. "You can signal us to 'take off' when you're ready."

<Local> Vorkoroth senses that he's mindvoice is crisp and imperious, the colours sharply contrasting between blue and black, and flashes of bright silver. <<You have heard the lady. Inverted V formation! Ready, and /Now/!>>

Urzketh impatiently shuffles his claws a bit, wings rustling a bit. "Easy Urk. We're not flying, and yes I know you know you can fly, but /not/ until we get clearance." The blue shakes his head, warbling with disappointment but nevertheless, his wings remain stilled as he waits for Vorkoroth's signal. Fyria resists the urge to glance over her shoulder at Wyn - after all, as Lylia said, she can't do it in Fall, yes? Thus, she grips the straps while Urk takes his place just in front of, and to the left of Vorkoroth.

Wyn and Vorkoroth decide on a compromise. She makes the non-seeable hand signal anyways, as she echoes Vorkoroth's orders in a tone that's a great deal less martial but just as clear. "Inverted V formation, on my mark. Mark." Waiting for the dragons to the front of her to start moving, she and the pocketsized blue at last move off at an easy pace. A human would probably be jogging slowly.

From Kihaelth's neck, Onwards! Yes Kihaelth was in good spirits. Stance is held proudly as he follows the lead dragon, Tevya careful to watch as Kihaelth maneuvers his way in the formation. "Ease up Kiha.. give them a little more room.. Slow down.. There you are." Mental and verbal directions given, Kihaelth complies with only the slightest of change in momentum.

Sii'kyn heads out from the Weyrling Barracks.

Jiu heads out from the Weyrling Barracks.
Tsulryth heads out from the Weyrling Barracks.

Relaxing between Druseth's neckridges, Hyde appears from ::between:: in a cloak of dark blue and a flash of polished talons.

Hyde suddenly flares up with a passing wind, fluttering off of Druseth's neckridge.

Relaxing between Druseth's neckridges, "Late!" Lylia loooooooms. A snaking finger points at Sii'kyn and Jiu. "Mount up, strap in, and get in formation!" The group is in an Inverted V, Wyn as wingleader. "Sii'kyn, in front of Rana. Jiu, in front of Druseth." Who is in front of Fyr. Who Lylia will eat. Yes. Druseth slinks forward. Sliiiiink. In a cute little formation-style.

Vorkoroth thinks to you, << I bespoke Sidramuntalath with: Vorkoroth offers a slightly smug flicker of silver. <<You are late...>> he notes, more than a touch teasing. <<Whatever happened to that most stimulating debate over lazy dragons?>> >>

From Byndareth's neck, Rana snatches a few glances behind her, uneasy about the change in perception it seems. Byndareth looks like he may imitate his rider in that movement, but just as his dark swathed head begins to move around Rana shakes her own head, "Nuh-uh, love, face front. Or we'll both fall over." She says gently, and the young dragon complies with no more urging needed. "'Lo you two." She calls briefly to the newly arrived weyrlings from her place atop Byndareth.

Sii'kyn almost /lazily/ strides in. "Weyrlingmaster, just got through on a class on advanced anatomy with assistant weyrlingmaster H'din. Ma'am." Ram, already strapped up, sends a snotty glare Vorkoroth-ways, and snaps into precise formation in front of Rana, awaiting Ike's scramble up.

From Urzketh's neck, Fyria just blinks at Ike and Jiu as they arrive, respective dragons following them. She gives them a wink and quick smile, then turns back to the wing formation and Urk. "Yes love, it's like we saw in the scroll. A different way of flying the wing." Urzketh rustles his wingspars again, matching Vorkoroth's pace easily lest he run into Druseth's tail. Which would be a v. Bad Thing.

Jiu gives a guilty squeak, fumbling to follow directions as quickly as she can. "Sorry, Tsully was /insisting/ on me getting some cheese for him before he'd come out here, and then he didn't /want/ it..." A mock glare is sent towards the blue, immediatly softened with a pat as she mounts up and gets settled. Tsulryth rumbles plaintively as he gets into place, eying Druseth over his shoulder.

Tsulryth holds out a bright-silver talon for Jiu, who braves the tempest to climb up his thick-set arm and huddle between two ridges.

Sii'kyn is assisted up the dark stretch of Nothingness by a silver-touched talon, to settle firmly in betwixt Sidramuntalath's magma-cooled neckridges.

Wyn nudges Vorkoroth with one heel as she catches one half of a conversation with the laggards. "Behave..." she mutters, before turning her full attention back to the wing. "Eyes fron, Rana," she notes mildly.

From Kihaelth's neck, Tevya and Kihaelth are following..really. Even if Kihaelth does stop every now and then to re-check his formation, even if Tevya does seem to be more loss then knowledgeable. This was their first time at ground formations..and for beginners they weren't doing half bad. And so..they waddle onwards.

Druseth has been known to eat those who run into his tail. The blood staining his fangs isn't entirely from herdbeasties, after all... Lylia offers a snort, shaking her head as she eyes Sii'kyn. "You're a troublemaker, don't think I can't tell." Jiu just gets a beaming nod. Cheese is a fine excuse. Druseth contines to slink forward, contently in the line. "How does it look, Wyn?" Chirp.

From Byndareth's neck, Rana gives a tiny nod at Wyn's words, gaze fixing firmly in front of her, chin raising just slightly. She can be good, see, just watch. Byndareth, too, evens out almost completely, steps becoming a little more rolling, and less stumbling, now generally no more clumsy than those of his clutchmates around him. Generally.

"For weyrlings?" inquires Wyn blandly. "For a first time?" she asks again, looking considering. Wyn's being playful, everyone! Of course, with everyone facing forward, no one can tell. So she premits herself a small, unseen smile. "Just fine. Although Vorkoroth informs me that Druseth is eight inches out of alignment."

From between a pair of Sidramuntalath's starstruck, magma-touched ridges, Sii'kyn shakes his head wryly at the insane Weyrlingmaster's words. "Let's just keep that comment to ourselves, Ram," is heard, with a low snicker. Troublemaker? Maybe. Definately the most insane of the weyrlings, with all those obscene, innuendo-filled comments. He overheards Wyn, and snickers. Vorkoroth rules, in his book, even if Ram does have this little ego thing happenin'.

From Urzketh's neck, Fyria checks the wing's formation out herself, eyeing critically where each dragon's footsteps place him or her in the wing. "Yes, doesn't it look rather grand, Urk?" The blue's eyes whirl green as he checks each dragon's position, forgetting that he won't remember this in a day or two. Fyria stifles a laugh at Wyn's words, her eyes falling on the great, hulking brown form in front of her, and smiles. It's true. Urzketh warbles gently, though his footing, and position, doesn't change except to move forward with the wing.

From Tsulryth's neck, Jiu covers her mouth to hide a smirk at Vorkoroth's comment, resisting the urge to turn and look. She's already heard Rana get reprimanded, after all. Tsulryth is prodded gently with a reminder for him, too, to watch where he's going. The blue gives a soft snort as he continues on, hips swaying slightly, head cocked just so, talons placed with choreographed care. Jiu just rolls her eyes. "I'm sure Druseth could do better with practice."

From Byndareth's neck, Rana ducks her head briefly, muffling a short laugh as she hears Wyn's words on Druseth's position. Byndareth gives a muffled-snortish noise, rather similar to the one the blonde on his neck just emitted. "A whole eight inches..." Rana murmurs, eyes dancing in now surpressed amusment, back straight, and utterly composed again.

Druseth stares at Vorkoroth. Lylia just gives a glower. "Do you want me to comment on Vorkoroth's shoddy posture?" She can. Sniffle. Her Druseth is just perfect where he is. "Druseth's in a position so he can turn his neck to check on y'all." Yes. That's her explanation. "Yes." Another scowl. "I can have you lot scrubbing the barracks afterwards, you know." She still likes Rana, though. Squee. "Okay! Anyone have any questions about this formation?" Or about how much Lylia would love to skin the 'lings and run off to Vegas? Bitter, bitter brownrider...

From Urzketh's neck, Fyria shakes her head, trying to stifle the laugh that's bubbling in the back of her throat. Urzketh just looks cute and obedient behind Druseth's tail, even if it /is/ 8 inches off kilter. "Nope. Got it." Her words choke slightly before Fyria finally gains composure, and sits up straight. Snicker.

Wyn and Vorkoroth both look bland and innocent. "If you wish," she notes with a deceptive mildness. "After all... this is a learning experience, is t not?" Yes, Wyn can play the swot quite nicely when she finds it amusing to do so. "And we're fine for the moment."

From between a pair of Sidramuntalath's starstruck, magma-touched ridges, Sii'kyn stares straight ahead, face bland, devoid of total emotions. He's not saying /anything/. Nope. Absolutely. He's not looking behind him, he's looking straight ahead.. and stifling laughter. Much laughter.

From Tsulryth's neck, Jiu grins manicly, hidden as her expression is by her position relative to Druseth, further helped by the hair falling into her face. As usual. "I think we got it, ma'am." Best to be polite, particularly when one can't hide the amusement in one's voice. "I don't have any questions, at least..." Jiu pauses, then giggles, shaking her head. "I don't think there's a formation where we get to waltz, Tsully."

From Byndareth's neck, Rana keeps her compossure, only the sparkle in her foamy eyes betraying her still lingering amusment. "No questions." She replies crisply, chin raising, and shoulders squaring. The image of a perfect pupil...an image much practiced and honed by the once-apprentice. Byndareth rumbles agreeingly, he doesn't have any either!

<Local> Vorkoroth senses that Druseth gives a dark warning, words wrought with crimson and dull iron. Perhaps wounded pride? But Druseth cares not much for pride... Merely precision. << I expect you all to be precise in formations until you graduate. In the air and on the ground. Be warned. >> Because Druseth's expectations are always met. Or else.

From Kihaelth's neck, See, the trouble with focusing in on your duties is..that you can't really pay attention to much else. Tevya watching the dragons infront of her as Kihaelth saunters slowly forwards, his movements already at ease as he slips into along the formation line. This was easy!

<Local> Vorkoroth senses that he allows an impeccable ripple of grey agreement to Druseth. <<As ordered, sir.>> Any lurking tinges of silver chuckles are a figment of your imagination.

<Local> Vorkoroth senses that Kihaelth replies, << We will do fine. The formations are easy. >> Yes he was very confident in his abilities, << We are strong, are we not? >>

<Local> Vorkoroth senses that Urzketh's mind is tinged with the faintest hints of sun-laden amusement, blue and green roiling regimentally along his thoughts. << Yes, Druseth. >> A simple, short reply, carrying with it the scent of sharp lemongrass and peppery mint.

<Local> Vorkoroth senses that Tsulryth retorts with lightning speed, unable to hold a leash to his immediate response << Until we graduate? Does that mean graduated dragons such as yourself don't have to be in precise formation anymore? >> Silvery mist dampens as he realizes his brashness, and he shuts up quickly.

<Local> Vorkoroth senses that Miravith nonchalantly throws in her sleep two-cents, pink coiling in languid strings of cotton candy fluff. <<If you don't learn your formations right you'll be 'scored until you look like those ugly carcass thingies we leave out in the Pens. And then we'll all laugh at you. Hahaha. Hah.>>

<Local> Vorkoroth senses that Byndareth backs his words with the solemn toll of a deep bell, faint spicy shots betraying amusment that still lingers in his thought. << Aye, I'll be rememberin', as will us all. >> His words are slightly rough, still scruffy from the excitment of the lesson.

<Local> Vorkoroth senses that Druseth growls, a dark shadow drifting across his words. << I suggest you watch your tongue if you ever wish to leave the ground, Tsulryth. What I mean is that it is your wingleaders' responsibility to watch your shoddy carcass in the air when you graduate, and I no longer have the burden of dealing with such rude insolence. >> Uh-oh. Druseth never gets mad. Uh-oh. Dooooom.

Relaxing between Druseth's neckridges, "Okay!" Lylia claps her hands together. "Row formation time! Rana, you're wingleader. Sii'kyn, you're wingsecond on the left, Jiu, 'second on the right." They'd better know row formation. "Wyn, on the other side of Sii'kyn, Fyria, on the other side of Jiu. Okay?" Before she kills them.

<Local> Vorkoroth senses that Miravith replies gleefully to Druseth's words with a splash tinkling bells. <<Oooooh. Dissss.>>

Auri wanders in from the Northern Bowl, keeping an eye out for Weyrlings on Patrol.

From between a pair of Sidramuntalath's starstruck, magma-touched ridges, Sii'kyn quietly blinks at Lylia. "Gotcha," he murmurs, shifting slightly - and nudging Ram over with heel pressure into perfect formation to the left 'second positioning to Rana. Have they been practicing? Definately.

From Urzketh's neck, Fyria wrinkles her nose at this one. Not hers, nor Urk's particularly favourite formation. "I know, I know, it's not a particularly efficient formation, like the V's, but we have to practice it anyways." Urzketh rustles his wingspars again with a tail-flip, then lumbers over to stand next to Jiu and Tsulryth. The blue warbles to Tsulryth softly, then faces ahead, muzzle raised high, eyes whirling brightly. Quite an image, no? Fyria just shakes her head and laughs softly.

Miravith makes a little grunting 'ooph' sound as Auri swings up to slide down the green's smooth neck.

From Kihaelth's neck, Slipping back once more, Tevya and Kihaelth fall back into position, Tevya shooting a grin towards Fyria. She would behave..yes. It was possible since this was important. "Great job earlier Fy. You and Urzketh were great." Yes she was complimentary.

Wyn and Vorkoroth, still much amused, if quietly so, quicken their pace a bit to catch up with the front line and pull into formation, Wyn wincing as she discovers that being jounced on top of a neckridge is /not/ a kind sensation. Good thing she's not a male... Arriving, Vorkoroth strikes one of his impeccable parade rests beside Sidramuntalath. And not an oil barrel in sight...

Byndareth looks awash with excitment and eagerness at this new development, caramel dripped chest puffing out a bit. "Yes, of course love, now move." Rana urges, looking amused. The browns lapsed back to a more bumbling gait, but nothing drastic happens as they fall into position, aside from the warbling burst of off key, sort of song bursts forth as he fixes himself in place.

From Tsulryth's neck, Jiu nods shortly in response to Lylia, seeming to ignore Tsulryth's sulk. "Yes ma'am! Right away, ma'am!" Beam. The blue's hide is given a consoling pat, muttering about stuffy people, as he gives a disconsolate sigh. Lifting his head with dignified pride, Tsulryth skulks to the right 'second position, staring straight ahead. Not that he moves with anything less than dancelike grace, of course. "Whee," Jiu comments. Cause she can.

With a practiced slinky grace, Miravith shoulders dozey Druseth out and takes his place. Haha. Just pretend she's a big bad brown. Auri pipes cheerily at the weyrlings, waiting until each one takes the correct position. "Yay for you! You know row formation! Ooh, Ly will be so proud. After she's done being grumpy and finishes her klah break, I mean." She giggles.

Shadowed by the overpowering cuteness of Miravith, Auri lovingly pats one chubby green cheek of Miravith. "Alright, so all of you are wonderful bunderful weyrlings and have studied up, right?" She flutters her thick lashes. "Can anyone tell me a disadvan...disvant...err...a reason that row formation doesn't work that well a lot of the time?" The little AWLM reaches into her pocket playfully. "I'll give whoever can answer this a sweeeetstick."

Wyn doesn't really care too much about the sweetstick, but /does/ enjoy trotting out knowledge, if she's got it. Which she does. A sentiment Vorkoroth heartily endorses. "Ah, I believe I know one." she allows. "The row formation is less effective in catching Thread, as there is only a single line of dragons. One has only one shot at the Thread as it falls."

From Kihaelth's neck, Tevya knows this.. or at least she thinks she does. "No manueverability.. you're into the rigid lines of formation and aren't as flexible." Or so Kihaelth seemed to think, and agree with Tevya. But that was her two marks on the subject. She and Kihaelth continue moving along, Tevya only pausing to check the distance in between each dragon.

From between a pair of Sidramuntalath's starstruck, magma-touched ridges, Sii'kyn pauses. "Communicating with your wingmates is much harder, since it's spread out so much." He nods at Wyn's words.. "And what she said, too." He nudges at Ram an inch or so over. There. Perfect formation.

From Byndareth's neck, "You can't see the others very well." Offers Rana, even getting Byndareth to stopper his little singing session so she can concentrate on the lesson. "It's good for high winds though." She adds. Must have a good to go with the bad after all.

From Urzketh's neck, Fyria taps her chin thoughtfully, then pipes out "But the /advantage/ is it lets you cover a lot more territory versus the other formations." She mentally brings up an image of the drawing in the scroll, sending it to Urk who whuffles in agreement. "But still, because of the disadvantages my wingmates mentioned, it's not used very often." Studying /does/ have it's advantages, it seems.

From Tsulryth's neck, Jiu nods with Wyn, though blinks in mild confusion at Ike. "How is it harder, if its all mindspeach anyway? I didn't think people really have time or breath to be screaming at each other in the air..." Tsulryth's tail flicks out a beat happily, content with the perfectness of his position. Its kinda like dancing.

From between a pair of Sidramuntalath's starstruck, magma-touched ridges, Sii'kyn ducks his head at Jiu, and rubs a hand at the goatee that's forming. Oh, dear Farnath almighty. Ike's growing facial hair. "Verbal skills, Jiu. A wingleader can't rely on his or her voice to get a point across. And visual cues from your wingleader you can't see when you're all abreast of one another.. But the row formation /does/ catch alot of Thread, since it's so spread out, even if a tired dragon can't rely on the one ahead of it to flame for it for a breather.. since there is no ahead-of-you dragon."

Shadowed by the overpowering cuteness of Miravith, Auri squeaks, smiling so broadly the corners of her mouth touch the corners of her eyes. scrunchy face. "Oh wowzers you guys! You're all so smart. Sweetsticks for everyone! Hee." And with that, she begins carelessly chucking sweetsticks at the weyrlings with glee. She's so full of pride she doesn't have time to think about aim, you see. "And t'answer your question, Jiu, sometimes folks like to use visual handsignals and stuff. /I'm/ not personally a fan, but some people swear by visual cues...yeah, what Ike said."

From Kihaelth's neck, Sweesticks! Tevya fumbles to catch hers, almost slipping it into her mouth when a warning muffle from Kihaelth has her storing it away for 'after dinner'. "Yes Kiha. I wasn't going to spoil my dinner." Frown and grumble before she sighs, shifting slightly as she resettles betwixt twilight neckridges.

From Tsulryth's neck, Jiu reaches out to catch her sweetstick, only to have it snatched up by her quick-taloned lifemate. "Hey! Give it." Tsulryth gives a smug rumble and refuses to turn over the sweetstick. /He's/ the one who has to do all the work, after all! Just like that, its gone. Jiu grumbles. "Of course I can't carry you, that's not fair."

Wyn would be rather amused if a misaimed sweetstick pegged someone in the eye. Like S'titch. Who isn't here. But, she catches hers without incident, and balances it in her teeth at a rakish angle, musing that "I suppose it would be the best formation to use in a light fall with great dispersal. And not much wind."

From Byndareth's neck, Rana sort of yeeps as the sweetstick hits. With good aim too...that is, if Auri was aiming for her forehead. The sweet, sugar loaded stick sort of bounces around in her hands a bit as she attempts to actually grasp it, which she finally does, making a face at it. "It's a yummy thing Byn." She explains to the inquiring dragon.

Urzketh sees something flying at him out of the corner of his vision, and snaps his head around with maw wide open, catching the sweetstick and chomping down on it with a crunch. "Urk! NO no...that wasn't for you!" Too late. The blue warbles at the odd taste in his mouth, tongue flicking out a moment. He shakes his head, then croons at Auri and Miravith. "Oh no..no more for you. DRagons do /not/ eat sweetsticks." Urk looks, well, irked, and settles a little, tail curling slightly. "Sorry love, but it's meat for you."

<Local> Vorkoroth senses that Tsulryth rumbles smugly towards Uzketh, mists swirling like silvery sugar crystals. << I thought it was good, too. Though cheese is better. >> And he's going to completely ignore the protestations of riders.

Shadowed by the overpowering cuteness of Miravith, Auri randomly stares up at the sky. "Wouldn't it be a lovely day for a picnic..." she muses. A rapid blink as she stares down at her dragon. "I said picnic not massacr- so! Does anyone what to tell me about the three line stack formation? It's a very nift tight formation." She waggles a finger at the weyrlings. "You should all know it."

<Local> Vorkoroth senses that Urzketh's thoughts tingle with electric curiosity, motes of sunbright sparks floating along the link. << Yes, it was..interesting. Fyria says they're not for dragons. Curious. Then why did the Miravith's rider...Auri...throw them at us? >>

And once again, Wyn pipes up, gesturing slightly with her sweetstick. "A three line stack is simply a row formation repeated thrice, one behind the other. The Wingleader leads the front group, their Seconds the lines after that, I suppose."

From Kihaelth's neck, "I'd not say no to a picnic," Tevya replies, grinning, "And neither would Kihaelth." A small laugh then as Kihaelth lumbes forth, varying his speed in an attempt to test the proper distances that can be held. Brother Urzketh is given a glance and whuffle..before.. Kihaelth speeds up. Innocently, mind you.

Shadowed by the overpowering cuteness of Miravith, Auri tweaks Wyn's answer just slightly. "Well, yeah! You got the gist of it. It's a /line/ formation repeated thrice, with each line next to each other, bigger draggies up front and smaller ones bin the back. Good job." Beam. Auri brightens at Tevya. "Oh, you can come if you like! We're already inviting a whole family of squirrels..." The greenrider trails off, an uncharacteristicly suspicious tone creeping into that last word.

From Kihaelth's neck, "Count on Kiha and I being there, then," Tevya replies, grinning. Yes she was discerned by the mentioning of squirrels in an off-tone, but she'd not let that darken the prospects of a picnic. Fingers tighten around the straps then as Kihaelth lurches forwards, Tevya's gaze snapping infront of her. "Kiha..easy does it..."

Druseth and Lylia return, one with a cup of klah clutched between shaking hands, the other with a bit of new blood smeared across his muzzle. Klah break. Blood break. Whatnot. Druseth still looks rather dark and broody (isn't /that/ a surprise?), Lylia looking equally... disturbed. Yes. They'll watch Auri. Right.

Urzketh glances over at Urzketh with a snort, and begins to lruch forward. "NO! Urk...stop it. No, don't you even /dare/.." Urzketh shakes his head and sends a bugle towards Kihaelth. Dare him, eh? He's the fastest. Face it, Kihaelth.

From Urzketh's neck, [OOC:] Fyria eeks. Glances over at /Kihaelth/.

Shadowed by the overpowering cuteness of Miravith, Auri looks startled at the weyrlings, waving her arms around frantically. "Wait, wait no racing, absolutely no rac- Eeeeep!" Miravith, possessing much quicker reflexes than her rider, hopskips in front of the two contending dragons and skids to a cute lil' stop. Nono. No passies.

"A picnic..." muses Wyn consideringly. "That sounds... intriguing." The mention of squirrels and Miravith rules out 'pleasant' somehow. Yeah, she heard about that little tendancy. "Vorkoroth...." she warns the little blue quellingly as he, too, ponders joining the scramble. He obeys, although does so by striking a lofty pose. He's clearly faster, and needn't demonstrate it. Prim snort.

<Local> Vorkoroth senses that Miravith tsktsks in a ethereal, fairy-godmother-esque tone, all sparkles and fluttering wings. <<Now, now...I don't want to see any pace faster than a plod, okay? You're upsetting my rider. Let's keep everything under restraint. Pwease? fo' Lil' ol' meeee? I'll wub you fo'everrrrr.>> All of a sudden, piercing through pleasant images of tutu'd blueriders come images of mangled weyrlings of years past. <<Or else...I'll have to sic Druseth on you.>>

From Kihaelth's neck, Snort. In your dreams Urzketh! There was a reason he was the first born you know. Wings are fluttered quite suddenly as Kihaelth gives a confused bugle, before dropping his head and snorting. Ah shucks. He was just trying to prove who the fastest was! A glance is stolen by Kihaelth towards Miravith, Tevya turning red while trying not to grin to wide.

<Local> Vorkoroth senses that Urzketh whips a lash of fiery blue in amused challenge toward Kihaelth. << You think you can fly past me, hmm? >> Suddenly, Miravith's thoughts intrude, and he's distracted. << Fair one, I would never dream!! >> His thoughts freeze and fall away like icicles at the image of mangled weyrlings, and he quiets, coming to a physical halt.

<Local> Vorkoroth senses that Kihaelth would cackle if it were possible..as it is, Kihaelth sends a burst of verdant and turqouise tinged ribbons towards his brother, playfully teasing while responding, << I know I can, dear brother. >> Confidence exemplified, folks. << Nor would I.. >> This towards Miravith as well, Kihaelth then sending a trickling tease towards his clutch brother.

<Local> Vorkoroth senses that he's tone is cool and proper, a cascade of subtly varied blues and greys. <<Naturally not, milady. We are yours to command.>> Royal 'we' or not? Vorkoroth's not telling.

Druseth grumps. Grumpgrump. A lazy tongue laps at the blood trickling down his fangs, before he gives a snort and a growl, backing up. Rawr. Miraaa. Can he eat them? Please? Even Lylia seems to like that plan. Rawr. Raaawr. See? He's scary.

<Local> Vorkoroth senses that Miravith coos, all blushing little schoolgirl. (image: green dragon in short britney-style skirt and pigtails. blonde pigtails.) <<Aww Druseth, I love it when you talk horrendously violent to me.>> Um. Yeah. Further good will is ventured towards the weyrlings. <<Thank you all very much. I'll make sure that no blood is spilled on my watch.>> Unless it's by her.