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 Prospecting., SU:14; Nevisk's First Run
RhiaBlack
 Posted: May 31 2016, 12:19 AM
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She'd been glowing for days.
Nevitheran had done his best to try and distract himself from the full effects of what that meant; his Gold would be Running soon, she would be gravid, soon, and then he would be camped on the Sands while she incubated her clutch.

Nevisk kept a watchful eye on the goings-on around her on their patrols. She refused to stop - on the contrary, she insisted much more often on picking up extra shifts. It was almost as if she couldn't bear to be cooped up inside their room, and it seemed as if the Weyr itself had grown snug around her; like a turtleneck sweater knit too tightly against her body. Her eyes wore the scarlet hues they had nearly always maintained with a constant shade now. Theran had noticed that it kept much the same as Raisk's hide, in places.

He was still trying to come to grips with the fact he'd become a bit more attached to Raistlin than he cared to. Or did he? Was it really such a horrible thing, to feel oneself beholden to someone who was neither gender? Was he really so afraid of his parents' reactions, that he'd considered cutting things off simply because Raistlin couldn't biologically give him children? Was Nevisk's Run truly the means to an end that he was looking for, the be-all-end-all for a mate, when it seemed as if so many here already had their other halves?

King think too much. You worry too much. I handle already. Raisk's belong to Raisk, but also to Nevisk's King. Have Queen, have Knight, have Bishop. King need nothing else. Worry far too much, things already handled. Relax.
The last time you told me to relax, I woke up beside Raistlin the next evening, if I recall.
Not so bad, was it?
No. Not at all. I just worry about what my parents will say. Southern Boll...well. You've seen my memories of it.
Then we not tell them whole truth. Simple. Not lie, just not...what is term I hear from Drudges all the time....volunteer information?


Her maw gaped in humor, and from where he was working on a tapestry, Nevisk began to restlessly pace the room. It was small, it was cramped, she wanted out but it wasn't desperate. An uncomfortable press, the smoldering heat that settled in her gut and made her tail lash in irritation. Theran's hand slid across her entire body, from the tip of her snout, all the way down her frame as she moved past, to the very tips of her tail.

It time. I seek one give me hatchlings. You seek Raisk's. Go, now. I wait until King find them. Be safe.
Must you go,
Theran whimpered softly in her direction, and in a rare moment of affection Nevisk's snout bumped against his hands. He kissed her nose, scratching the sides of her massive jowls before she nudged him with her head.

Go, now. I come find, stay with, when everything is over.
Be careful. Some of them aren't so kindly as the ones here.


Theran rose, straightening his attire as he moved for his room. The rising tide of lust wasn't capable of being ignored anymore; his skin flushed, he felt his heart pounding in his throat. Raistlin...

Raisk, Nevisk broadcast to her Bishop. Time I go. Need Run. Please, take Yours, see Mine. We have work to do, this over. None bother King. You protect.

She watched Nevitheran try to keep his feet on the way down the corridor; it was liberating and refreshing for her, but she could also feel that it was oppressive and constricting on Hers. Theran looked back, and she turned and started down the corridors. A walk, to begin...then picked up pace. By the time she was halfway there, the six-foot-tall, serpentine length of tarnished Gold had broken into a gallop. She reserved her strength. They would have to prove themselves.

Queen calls. You come. Prove you not useless, prove you worth something. If bonded wher, leave Nevisk King alone. Raisk guard. Yours not Raistlin, Yours find somewhere else. I warn. Only strongest wher on all of continent catch me....come prove you worthy.

Nevisk exploded out into Timor and Belior's light like a tarnished gold bar, streaking along the Bowl and headed for the world outside of it. Wilds would have their chances, too - she would only choose the best for her clutch. Her hatchlings would prove how wrong they were, to call her a monster. To call her untrustworthy.

Nevitheran stripped away everything and donned a simple sleeping shirt, the cuffs of which went past his wrists, the hem to his thighs, and sat half in a daze on the edge of his bed. His hair was loosened from the binding that held it in the bun atop his head, and he scratched his fingers through it, the door ajar. He could feel Nevisk's claws digging into the stone, then the earth of the Bowl, and then the sandy loam beyond. The sense of freedom she carried with her, to be back in the world beyond civility.

It would be up to her, from now on.


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Sari
 Posted: May 31 2016, 01:24 AM
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(Fa'rah and Wherth)

Wherth had an unfortunate habit of not noticing when females started to glow, dragon or wher. Fa'rah though, he'd learned to keep an eye on things, mostly because he usually preferred to attend when his 'Iron wher' chased, mostly to be polite, though in the past he hadn't objected filling in if no one else was present to 'attend' the female's bonded. He didn't need to, Wherth's attractions weren't full forced. Oh, he didn't doubt his 'wher' would eagerly preform if he was chosen, but he usually ran because he wanted to show he could, and he wanted to win. What actual desire there was was minor, like someone who knew a friend was attractive, and might like additional benefits to go along with said friendship.

He'd been ready for the night to come when Wherth would announce he was chasing, and his bonded didn't disappoint. This left him with a decision to make though.

~Rlyeth. Wherth am being King, chase WherQueen! Am bring Fa'rah. No want, push out door, leave on ledge~ Fa'rah burst out in a full laugh as he joined his 'wher' on the ledge to mount up.

"No option to toss me out with the bath water?"

Wherth's jaws parted, a rumble pouring out, made airy from his open mouth, which the good humored 'king' raised and dropped in pitch and volume, before he prodded his for an image and slipped between. Whers wasted no time, not like firespitters, he needed to drop his Fa'rah off quickly or be left behind. Once his was, more or less dumped, when the 'wher' playfully tipped as the Roundsman was dismounting, Wherth issued a sharp bugle before diving nearly straight down. Whers didn't fly for runs, and Wherth was no cheater.

~Wherth prove! Biggest King for bestest Queen~ Came the voice of her.... unusual chaser. Wherth knew he had wings that were big for whers, but he would show pretty Queen, he could run, run and dig and brawl like best wher. At least, he was sure he could brawl, being a King and all; he had yet to actually need to fight other chasers, but he was ready. The 'Iron' wasted no time, and boldly tore up the ground, wings spread just enough for the right balance, as he made right for her. He'd get a close place, where king's belonged, all his practice, he would prove, biggest King was best.

Fa'rah still wore a hint of his usual smile, though it was a bit more subdued that usual. Secretly, it worried him when the runner was a queen or a red. So far, nothing unfortunate had happened, but the time might come where a Wher... especially the one being chased, might be less than amused at his presence. Wherth certainly could have the heart and stubbornness of a wher but, how well could he manage himself against the stockier, full contact form of one of them? It wasn't something he would let seep over to his bonded though; Wherth needed to chase, and he needed his support. Running his fingers through his hair, the Baker decided to simply remind himself that nothing had happened yet, Wherth wasn't rude or likely to provoke any of the 'other' whers. Things would be fine. In the mean time though, if B'er wasn't busy, he'd join him in his Weyr and let the other decide if he'd like to 'get into ' the chase, or if he'd rather just visit. It wasn't like he expected a Queen to choose Wherth, be she dragon or wher, but again, something to keep to himself.
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Raining
 Posted: May 31 2016, 12:32 PM
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They had just returned from the Infirmary, getting their arm stitched a bit. Oh nothing life threatening, just a small accident as a result of sparring a bit with his wher. Raisk got a little too into it, and where Raistlin should have dodged out of the way... they were instead pummeled down by their large lady. Her jaws wrapped around Raist's arm and she started to shake, but of course the action hurt her as well so she practically released Her's almost as quickly as it happened. But whers have sharp teeth and her head jerk did tear. They ended up in a bit of a laughing fit, not knowing why they decided to forgo any protective armor for their arms. Raisk seemed angry and concerned, but mostly angry.

They were patched up, only a few stitches here and there, and no ill feelings towards their leading lady. It was an accident and they should have been more careful, and prepared.

"No need to be concerned, my light."

The only reply they received was a snort, Raisk not. Raistlin correct, their fault. Was fool.
"So I was-" Their sentence clipped as Raisk paused and twisted her head. Her eyes burned darker before she changed directions completely. Nevisk running. We go to Hers. Come! she told them, swinging her head in Hers' direction when she realized they weren't immediately on her heels as she commanded. Raistlin chuckled lightly, "I was wondering when her light would get to be too bright," they quipped before following.

It was Raisk who pushed her nose and sizable body through the door. Nevitheran was probably lucky that it wasn't closed or she would have tried to break it down (before Raistlin intervened of course. She scoured the room with a drawn out growl before bumping her nose against his cheek, before snuffling his clothes. He didn't smell like anyone else and the room was clear. Shame. She dared people test this. She dared anyone brave enough to try (or were they fools?). Raistlin walked in just after and closed the door behind them, after Raisk slipped back out of the room to stand in front of the door. They were still in their leathers, save for the arms... and with a fancy bandage. "You'll have to forgive my appearance, I just got in," they stated airily before they slipped in beside Theran with a curious expression. They lifted their hand and brushed fingers along his jawline. "How are you feeling?" they asked curiously, quietly, maybe hinting at besides the obvious, though they held their tongue. Perhaps one day they will feel this same sensation, or whichever Theran was feeling right now.

---------------

A bronze lifted his head from the bones he was gnawing on. He was new to this part of the island, and young, but so was the Gold whipped across the night? Her voice found his mind as he parted his jaws to taste her scent, eyes deepening to a crimson, nearly blending in with his dark hide. He was on the larger end of the spectrum, which didn't exactly make him a speedy runner.

He had no name, he had no voice, not like this tarnished gold... but since her human voice reached him, he would take chase anyway.

The king walked away from his marrow, once she came into view, and he took after her with his claws kicking up dirt in his wake. The dragon was given a guttural growl and a momentary bubble of space before his eyes were locked back onto his prize. He shifted into her view, just behind and on her left.



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Azhdarchid
 Posted: May 31 2016, 11:59 PM
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Slosk surfaced over the hill, a jagged boulder migrating the ascent. He dropped his nose almost to earth, but before his snout met dirt it buried in a pile of cracked bones. The rot-green tips of his tongue proceeded out into the hollows of femur and rib, quivering, catching a few dried specks of marrow. But of greater depth than the sweet taste of some animal's insides was the sharp mineral twang of a strange wher. A strange king wher. Slosk had been staying inland ever since he first detected the cologne by the treeline.

Tonight he was very close. He rammed his nose into the bonepile, nostrils roaring out air as he tried to read the creature's details from the fresh trail. The muscle down his metallic body contracted tight, even his arching hump ached. The remains of his wingstubs flapped against his sides. He would catch the interloping bronze, and then he would-

The iron's long jaws rose from the refuse, and he burped in surprise. At himself, and an imagination so ancient the brain that made it was probably all rock by now. But no, that outcome did not make any sense. What else was crossing his nerve-wires tonight? A green electricity. Green-gold. Slosk stretched up on the tips of his binary toes, though he did not need to given his hilltop summit.

He saw her.

A new queen. Someone for whom that ending made sense. He had forgotten to exhale, and when he did it was another burp. But a happy sound, as he gaped his jaws wide, like a fat wherlet begging yet again for another meal. His right eye twinged shut a few times, just a light shading of fungus stretched between his ridge and facets, a very artful cobweb. But as Nevisk neared, he ignored the itching in favor of a grand eyeful. He twitched his hips back and forth in a dance, though outside of his glowing eyes he was too distant to be more than a juttering silhouette.

An experienced old beast, he was able to take his focus off the maiden queen for evaluation purposes. The dragon he remembered. His eyes squinched almost entirely shut, his mouth too. The forked terminus of his tongue flapped out for a solid four seconds.

The second challenger was his original quarry, now off the menu by virtue of occasion. Of course, Slosk knew the rules set down by the stone whers. The newbie did not. Perhaps there was opportunity in his ignorance. All that supposed a conflict, though, and the first step he should take would be to end that possibility. He hurdled off the top of the hill with a grunt, gravity his wings, his legs motoring simply to keep up.

He had to curve around to come in line with Nevisk, and the turn was so wide the iron briefly vanished in the trees before breaking through a sapling to re-emerge in the closest position. Aside from a crack of his jaws together in the bronze's direction, he pursued his gold in silence. At this distance, he noticed her mandibles outclassed even his own. Oh, his ichor stirred, and the rust melted out of it. Her mouth would be his romance!
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Rii
 Posted: Jun 1 2016, 08:08 PM
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It was a good night for hunting. Rrghsk slunk through the heavy undergrowth, seeking the prey that would sate his very hungry belly. A wherry late to roost, perhaps, or an ovine wandered far from some hapless cotholder's flock. One would be good. Both would be even better. He had space for both; perhaps he would have to hunt for longer than he liked.

Rrghsk shook himself out. He was a big bronze and muscular, with hide like brass left to collect dirt and tarnish for a decade. Beyond his wrinkles and bumps there were scars laid on his frame for all the turns of battles fought with other wilds, forcing a spot for himself where his competition for the resources of the continent's forests were unwilling to yield it to him.

A low, rattling rumble worked its way up his throat, and he sucked in a lungful of the night's air. He was not the only one of his kin about on this night. Nor even the largest. Changing direction abruptly, he bulled his way through brush and healthy summer-growth with the singlemindedness of one who had scented something even more important than food for a hollow stomach.

And he sighted her. Tarnished gold to rival his tarnished bronze, running to mate. His jaw dropped open for a moment, uttering a tunnelsnake-like hiss of satisfaction. He wanted her. Others already chased her. Bellowing a not in the slightest melodious GROOOAGH, Rrghsk tore after Nevisk in chase with a weather eye for his competitors. If they thought him an easy mark for not appearing first, they would learn otherwise quickly.


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RhiaBlack
 Posted: Jun 4 2016, 06:37 PM
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Nevitheran had never been more relieved to see Raisk. The inquisitive snout was given a gentle pet with both hands, clasped between them before he dropped a kiss against the soft red hide. If she gave him the chance, he scratched her eye ridges before she went off to investigate the room, and then slipped back outside. Nev's lust-addled brain instantly targeted Raistlin as the subject of his desires - naturally - and he rose to greet the other Handler...in more than one fashion, of course, but that was neither here nor there. Fingers trailed along the bandage, and he slipped around his lover with the concerns of what damange had been done etched into his features.

"What happened, are you all right?" He eased a hand across the wrapped part of Raistlin's forearm, their injury momentarily distracting him; though Nevisk's wiles were never fully subdued. His body slipped closer, pressed flush to his companion, sought a taste of Raistlin's lips in reserved hunger. It wouldn't be long, he could feel, and he'd be fully engaged. Nothing else would matter. It would be him, and his lover.

Eager hands tugged on his own shirt nervously, before he turned his attention to Raistlin's leathers. The sooner they were off, and he was wrapped skin-to-skin with his other half, the better.

"What appearance," he breathed against the Redhandler's ear, "Soon, we won't have to worry about clothes, will we?"

He pulled his chosen mate towards the bed, a hand slipping away from unclothing Raistlin just long enough to push the cover across the singular glow uncovered in his room. Lips made contact again as the lights went out, and Theran's low-tone laugh resonated within the dark.

Nevisk regarded the "Iron wher" with a somewhat curious expression. Was he serious? He reminded her of Runner. She almost quipped a harsh 'be useful' at him in rebuke, but Hers informed her he was. He flew the Falls as a dragon, but was convinced he was a Wher. Even his name....Nevisk shook her head, sighing fitfully. She wasn't about to choose a dragon, but the foolish creature could chase if he wanted to. So long as he continued to fly the Fall, she supposed it was...odd, but harmless for him to pursue her.

Slosk was greeted with a warm croon. She knew the Wild on reputation alone, mostly; she'd seen him only once on patrols, and even then it had been fleeting. The Bronze who had shown up before him didn't appear to be from around here. He gave Wherth a wide berth, which only further proved the matter. Still, to have an Iron and a Bronze after her - quickly joined by a third Bronze - warmed her considerably. Her eyes turned from full crimson, to red-orange in the moonlight, as she streaked through the undergrowth, snapping at a wayward, too-slow wherry. The creature was promptly torn in half with a throw of her head, the lifesblood painting the sides of her frame. If ever there were a means to make her even more desirable.

She ate the part still in her mouth whole, feathers fluttering to the dirt beside her and soon stomped into the earth by those who followed her. Three of them couldn't speak back to her; she forewent the speech, at that, and simply offered only the deep-chested roar that challenged them all. She doubled her efforts, seeking to run until she exhausted herself; a wide turn that carried her back around towards the Bowl and the Weyr, crossing the river and headed up the other side of the continent. She would make them work for it. Where some whers were amused with gifts and trinkets, or games, Nevisk was not. Speed, strength, skill. That was what impressed her.

She crashed through the underbrush, weaving through the trees deftly and fleetly, taking to the sandy beach momentarily before it was back into the trees. Within his quarters, Theran curled himself against Raistlin, and fell into a quiet tension as he felt Nevisk's desires grow. It wouldn't be long, and his Gold would choose the sire of her clutch, just as Nevitheran would find himself cast to the wiles and needs of his mate. Raistlin's leathers were thrown carelessly to the floor, to join his own shirt.

B'er looked up from where he was working with his glass, spotting the landing Blackrider. A smile blossomed involuntarily across his features, and he set the diamond knife down on the table very, very carefully. Rising, he looked inquisitive, but nevertheless moved to greet Fa'rah warmly.

"I would never," he remarked, hands reaching out to find Fa'rah's own and draw him back towards the Smith. "Does it put you into Flightlust, when he chases? A wher, I mean. I wasn't sure, I know he believes himself truly to be one of them, and I'm always...you know."

He tasted the other Rider's lips gingerly.

"What do you want to do? I can take you to bed, or you can sit here and watch me finish this, as terribly boring as I'm sure it might be..."


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Raining
 Posted: Jun 4 2016, 11:41 PM
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The sight of the two kings had his nostrils flaring and his breath coming out in aggravated snorts. He didn't know the intentions of the dragon, but he most certainly knew the intentions of the bronze and iron. There was a small -not quite a voice- at the back of his mind pressing him to focus on the glowing gold, but with the snap of the iron's jaws and the gurgled roar from his bronze "kin" most of his common sense went out to sea.

He doubled his efforts and picked up the pace, making an effort to avoid needing to turn sharply, so he veered when she shifted, attempting to keep in the inner circle so he was able to keep up. No, speed he didn't have... but he had other strengths. Some of it lay in actual strength, but most of it was probably just reckless bravery.

Maybe his clutchmother should have shown him the benefits of respecting elders?

The young bronze kept to the trees, running semi alongside, the scent of the wherry blood, and her mating scent set his ichor on fire. His mind was clouded, and his judgement flawed. For if one of the others got too close, he did not hesitated to veer from his Golden path to half jump on one of the other males (save for the dragon, what creature would attack a dragon?) There would be no warning, there would be no growl... he would just move. IF he managed to land a hit, teeth and claws would dig in and drag the other down, with vicious snarls.

Look, gold beauty. He was strong, he would provide you with an equally strong brood.

(obv, you can have him miss spectacularly)

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Raisk actually allowed Nevitheran the moment to scratch at her, and begrudgingly allowed the kiss. Her eyes flashed crimson, but she would not dare touch this one, nor did she want to. Instead she paced up and down the corridor, the door still within her sights. Though at this point she suspected that no one will come. Nevisk's voice was heard, after-all.

Raistlin was greeted with warmth, and their eyes swept his frame appreciatively, smiling at his concern. "Raisk got a little too excited, but worry not for me..." Though they suspected worry would not be on their lover's mind for too long. They eased against Theran with a coy smile, which was smothered by a kiss that was much more reserved than they expected, "are you fighting it? Why?" they asked but Raist suspected they already knew the answer. There was no need to rush, after all. Though, they couldn't get enough of their companion. Perhaps it was because this was still new to them and, of course, Raistlin more than enjoyed it.

Leathers were shed all too eagerly, "I suppose not, especially if you take the lead." Raistlin wound arms around their lover, but their hands wandered as they pressed themselves as close as human bodies would allow. They had questions regarding what and how Nevitheran was feeling... but whenever Raisk decided it was time to mate... they would find out so they kept those questions silent, for now. Of course the silence was assisted by preoccupied lips, kissing where ever they could reach.



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Sari
 Posted: Jun 6 2016, 01:37 AM
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He was allowed to stay, of course he was, but still one never knew if a Queen might not like a chaser. Wherth belted out his best wher roar, sounding so very serious, even if he was just mostly pleased with running, and run he did. His wings had to be further tucked against his side as there was undergrowth to fight, this slowed him marginally, the extra balance he usually kept allowed him to put more into his strides, but a good King would not be deterred. He kept his head low, his muscles taunt, ready, and not at all the airy dignity of the firespitters who stood tall and proud. Paying only enough mind to his 'competition' to keep from running right into him, he showered the Wonderful Gold with mental warmth, affection, and admiration, because she was a Queen! Even if she didn't pick Wherth, that was what good Kings did. Crashing through foliage, he tolerated no interference by inconsiderate green things, muscling though them with every bit of him, perhaps aided by the fact that, despite not being built like a proper wher, he had a weight and size advantage.

Then he noticed the young bronze. Young kings were foolish kings, rash, spirited, the tension in the bronze body was a warning without sound or voice. Youngbronze meant to fight, but Wherth knew. Only fights when Queen said fights were good, he shifted to veer away, giving Youngbronze his space, red eyes watching, just in case there was a change. Protectwhers could become attackwhers easily.

Fa'rah's grin widened, his gaze slipping down to take in the sight of B'er, appreciating his form rather than being lewd. It was tough, choosing between meeting those eyes, and indulging in surge of warmth and joy at the voice that seemed so familiar after even the shortest time, or trying to be the first to steal even more intimate gestures. Those lips were tempting, playing at innocently forming words, while really just beckoning him in. By Faranth, did B'er ever put him in a state, like being a naive love struck holderboy, rather than a seasoned man of Weyr stock, not that minded. It was only right, seeing as they didn't seem interested in settling for just rolling around under the sheets.

" So long as I don't go making your cakes without bring you any", he helped quantify, playful, though his voice had dipped into something softer, quieter than a 'proper ribbing. "Not exactly. There's something there, there always is, even when it was that flightless green, but it's not strong. More like when you're still more boy than man and urges just come on for no reason. I think he'd follow through if he was chosen but, for him it's more about being in the chase." Presented, definite, but it was in the background, and not the overriding need. The kiss was returned, while his arms slipped around the other's waist, loose, to keep them close more so than try to signal more aggressive attentions.

"You've got me more worked up than he does. I figured I'd let you decide. Doesn't feel right presuming when it's not as... pressing as flightlust is." His eyes managed to move away, to look with some curiosity on the other's work area. "What are you making?" Whether that question was answered, cast aside for 'other' pursuits, the 'Iron Handler' wouldn't be disappointed.


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Kiran
 Posted: Jun 6 2016, 07:18 PM
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Jafari had made serious attempts at keeping Jafask in hand. The iron had known Nevisk was glowing. Had watched her with keen eyes and a sharp gaze, one that bespoke many things running around in the iron's head. He'd kept his distance, however, knowing that the time would come.

The Wherlingmaster was fully aware of it. Knowing his Bonded's penchant for chaos he had firmly clamped down on Jafask's mind. It was a hold that was felt keenly as the days had worn on, release only found in the lessons and directed exercise that followed. Jafari had kept himself in company of his Weyrmates and daughter otherwise, letting their Bondeds help release any excess tension that his Bonded had.

Jafask wasn't one to be sidelined, however. In the darkness Jafari could feel the iron's will press against his own even as the evening's lessons were reaching a climax. The iron stood off to the side. Watched the Bowl, watched the glowing gold as she took off for the forest and beach. Every muscle was tense. That was mirrored in Jafari. His attention on his Bonded became total. Wills warring between them for long minutes, Jafask finally gave a final slip and sprang out to the wilds.

Lessons were quickly called off.

Wherlingmaster sought the shadows the way his Bonded did, the greys cast by the moon only broken by the mild gleam of his hide. There were others ahead of him. No wonder, given how His had tried to hold him back. The vague awkwardness of knowing exactly who the Runner was Bonded to, but such was the way of things. The iron made no sound as he darted between trees, ignoring the beach as the Gold cut away to lead the pack there for only a moment. He needed to gain ground or he would certainly lose. Still on the tail end of them, his eyes gleamed in the moonlight and reflected the lust for the gold that was in his soul.
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Azhdarchid
 Posted: Jun 6 2016, 11:03 PM
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The wild wher squared his heavy shoulders in a kind of mid-charge respect. Nevisk had favored him with a croon. His breath replied to her in a hiss, a trace of moisture, but no exercise of the iron cords down his withered throat. His tongue undulated as a spray of wherry-blood traveled over her back onto him. Her dimensionless turn back toward Dalibor did nothing to slow him: all his legs had to do was keep up with the momentum of his ponderous muscle, and his questing head.

He did not yield immediately to her turn on the beach, however appetizing the environment to his callused two-toed feet. Few whers clung to its appeal for long, and as expected she returned to the thick and gnarled treeline, where he waited for her.

Trees. His only competitors now, not the nuggets veering around him. Small trees could be bowled over. Nevisk could be chased directly, as there was no gap she fit that he did not too. But Slosk curved out to the perimeter of her war path, finding new gateways through the forest to gain on her, to save his muscles another squeeze of blood needed to maintain pace. Old and canny and not an ounce less fit than his younger self. Even his various wild afflictions were drawn thin and sparse over his pebbled hide, carbuncle and film and smell less rigorous than before he had been taken in by the Weyr.

He did not smell anything of his brief caretakers in Nevisk, not that it made sense to assume the same two-legged beast responsible for his shelter was also the cause of the gold's presence. But the image bubbled in his head for a second, another half-second.

A half too long. Tremendous forward momentum did not protect him from an attack at his flank, the hooking talons setting new wounds into his back. His hind legs collapsed under the weight of the very same bronze he had originally been hunting.

His ornamentation afforded some protection. Ridges like spires bloomed out behind his hump, which itself was firm and thick and full of nothing vital. The old wher's tail thrashed, but the instinct that had served many a whip-tailed firelizard did nothing with the bony knot that terminated Slosk's spine. His infatuation was genuine: he struggled on with the hotblood on him, dragging the other beast between a pair of hardwoods and grinding off the dark red bark from their wooden cores.

The invader was not dislodged. Slosk's jaws spread wider than ever as he ascended a small hill with his tow, then he jumped as any dragon might to catch the wind. Only without wings, the tonnage of iron wherflesh could only plummet, strike the hard dirt and jutting rocks, and slide arrow-like down to the valley where Nevisk had fled. Ichor bruised his mouth, opening again, this time to return on the golden queen's roar. His voice rolled over in a thunder, the end pitched high in sweet pain.

He mustered a foot beneath his tremendous weight, lifted off the ground, and scrambled forward once more.
^
Rii
 Posted: Jun 8 2016, 06:35 PM
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Nevisk had displayed an early recognition of one of the chasers - and even Rrghsk knew the iron a little, if only by scent. But it did not dissuade him. When she made her choice - that would be what decided everything, not sounds, not looks, not what his competitors felt or did. They would try to impress her, but he doubted any of them would try to claim her without that final mark of her favor - somehow, it was clear that the one that did would regret it dearly.

Although one of them seemed plenty willing to try to interfere. The other bronze leapt at the first iron chaser and raked him with his claws, with roars and snarls as their only offered sounds. While Slosk fought to shake his attacker, Rrghsk thundered on, using the time attacker and attacked wasted on each other to demolish the early lead they'd had on him and even trying to pull ahead. Slosk was fit and canny, the younger bronze was strong, but Rrghsk had his own opportunistic cunning to supplement his physical acumen.

He smelled the second iron before he saw him. Just a whiff of another wher, not too distant. Somewhere he was out there, another chaser. But Rrghsk couldn't afford to twist and seek him with his blazing orange-red eyes. Only listen, and smell, and make sure that he didn't fall prey to the same gambit that the elder iron had.

There was no room for errors. Not when a gold ran. Not on this night.


PMAIM
^
RhiaBlack
 Posted: Jun 8 2016, 10:52 PM
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She dodged, she darted, she jumped and twisted, bouncing and weaving through the trees like a comet. Nevisk couldn't turn to look back towards her suitors; her immense maw would certainly strike and potentially be broken against the trees.

Though, she didn't have to. The attack didn't miss her range of hearing, nor did Slosk's roar and the collision of Iron to ground. She finally spun, scaling a small hill and standing in a clearing amid some scattered fallen trees and branches from the winds. Waited for her suitors to gather, so that she could get a clear sight of all of them a bit better than she could on the run. Wilds. Many of them were Wilds, and then there was one she knew.

Jafask.

Well, one she knew better than Slosk, that was. Slosk was pretty known. She looked to each, weighing their worthiness, watching the order they fell into the clearing. Part of her would always be wild; she felt it in her bones, she felt it whenever she stepped free of the Weyr, and that part of her knew it would be to the Wild she'd return, if she and her beloved King were ever separated.

It was only fitting that it was a wild that claimed her; at least, for her first clutch. Hers had the intentions of pairing off, but Nevisk wasn't so sure she wanted to be snared so easily. Even still, the urge was there. The need, the culmination of so many turns (so it felt like) of behaving within the Weyr's walls.

Nevisk's whip-like tail lashed to and fro, and she rustled her spines threateningly, eyes crimson as they usually always were. She licked her immense maw, removing some of the blood from the destroyed wherry, before she chuffed at Slosk. Beckoned him near, and dismissed the rest with little more than a turn of her back. For two of her suitors, she indicated a response.

Wherth. Would pick, like your spunk, have spark. But not able. Wherth is not wher, is dragon, but Nevisk think maybe wher soul in dragon body. I find you, when done with Slosk. We talk, maybe. Need to check on Nevisk King, first. Jafask, I pick you, if you show up on time. Tell Yours, let go earlier next time. Like you, but late. Is one strike. You not make it to three, know what good for.

She chuffed with the closing up of her throat at the wild Iron again, vanishing off the backside of the small hill, and escorting her chosen winner into the treeline.

Spoiler (Show/Hide)
There were 5 items in your list. Here they are in random order:

1. Slosk
2. No Name Bronze
3. Wherth
4. Jafask
5. Rrghsk

IP: 96.60.46.200
Timestamp: 2016-06-09 02:39:05 UTC


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^
Sari
 Posted: Jun 9 2016, 01:14 AM
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The sound of a fight drew a sharp, instinctive hiss from the 'Iron wher'. Warning instinctively, and not moving to get into the fray. The wilds would work the matter out between themselves. Instead, he continued to focus on keeping up with the queen. The green gold hide wasn't making it easy, her glowing glinting hide sometimes the only thing revealing her darting, dodging form through the dark growth around them. It was something of a relief when she lead them into a clearing. Slowing his chase to come to a halt before her, among the other suitors. Whirling eyes watched, as the lot of them waited.

She might have wanted them to fight, or otherwise prove themselves. Wherth's wings twitched, eager to follow whatever command their Queen issued. Sadly, it turned out that the run was over, she wasn't coming up with a task, but choosing. It wasn't him, yes Wherth was disappointed, but it lacked the bite that sometimes tormented the chasing males. Before he could head off though, he heard the voice of the Queen, and Wherth was confused. No one had ever said he was a wher and not a wher at the same time. Thankfully, now was not the time to talk about it, it was the Queen's run, to be respected by a good King.

Rumbling softly, he brushed his mind wordlessly against her's acknowledging, pleased for the attention, though it was confusing. He wouldn't distract her, many whereggs were needed, and that wouldn't happen if Kings that weren't chosen got in the way. Turning about to wander back towards the weyr, he gravitated towards Jafask to return home with him, his mind already slipping off to digging in the bowl, or maybe chasing Rlyeth and 'The Mew' if they wanted to play. He would think on the Queen later.

~Maybe Queen want biggest King, watch whereggs~ He mused to himself. Would the wild King be able to guard the sands for her? Well if not, Wherth was a good King, he would do it, or bring her tastymeatthings while she kept the eggs safe.
^
Azhdarchid
 Posted: Jun 11 2016, 10:40 PM
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Slosk reached the top of the hill with his lips pulled off his fangs, his tongue linked to the ground by a thick line of drool. He panted, indexing his crooked wing remnants to his sides and throwing off whatever remained of the young bronze with a jerk of his thorny hips. She did not need to call him twice, but when she did his forward amble became a more insistent trot.

Before he could vanish into the greenery with the golden queen, he wheeled on the failed suitors, rising off the dirt by two paws for a brief moment so he could pivot his whole body weight back at them. Thudding down, the hilltop on a hilltop stretched his mouth all the way open, tongue slurping into its darker recesses and leaving only fangs and green gum visible. His wet breath was a kind of hiss, a shuddering low warning, before he backed up foot by foot to the part where Nevisk had retreated.

Once on the other side, he bounced around to a forward angle, nimble as any hatchling, and skipped after the queen. Normally such a large catch would warrant a few ounces of caution. Hunger favored any wher after a long hunt. But she was very young, and not a red, and he was very experienced. When he did get the chance, he daringly brushed his long bill alongside the line of her mouth. And yes it was much smaller, but the proximity charged his tired muscles. Such an enormous jaw...where so many other whers had little to them besides hide to rend and fat muscle to chew...

-------

Slosk stumbled over a log. Rukbat had started skyward, but under the canopy the world was still a comfy black. He would not return to his lair before sunrise. Even the slowest, stupidest wherry whose path he crossed toddled out of the snap of his weary jaws. In the end he rooted a shallow grave in some mud at a basin between two hills, and curled up in it. He mashed leaf litter over his eyes with his paw, and went to snoring. Thread had become an irregularity, every sevenday, and the iron knew. It would not fall today.
^

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