28/05/01

Logfile from Sissi

[Kr'lin tries to escape persecution, but fails, and then Alueth decides to rise. Much Carroll followed. Some paging has been left in for context.]

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Kr'lin pages: So, does shaving a candidate mostly bald count?

You paged Kr'lin with: As weight loss? Depends how much hair...

Kr'lin pages: Naw, not much hair.;) She was already short and spikey from earlier.;)

You paged Kr'lin with: Well I guess not then (:

From afar, Kr'lin is in soooooo much trouble.;)

Long distance to Kr'lin: Sissi hehs. For head shaving?

From afar, Kr'lin nods. A couple of people walked in as he was clipping.:) They just wouldn't buy his explanation that it absolutely had to be done. In order for her hair to be saved, he /had/ to shave it off.

Long distance to Kr'lin: Sissi lol. Keep up the good work.

Kr'lin pages: Even worse. Two females walked in.:)

You paged Kr'lin with: Drat them and their meddling ways!

Kr'lin pages: So.. Want a visitor? Kr'lin needs to get away from the Weyr for awhile.:)

Long distance to Kr'lin: Sissi grins. Heh. Sure.

From afar, Kr'lin grins and makes an appearance in the LC then.:)

It's currently mid-fall on the northern continent.

* Evening at Fort Weyr, Fort Hold, Harper & Healer Halls:

Strong winds pierce the clear sky.

Kr'lin enters from the Bowl.

Kr'lin

A short, squat man, Kr'lin tops off with a wild shock of brown hair and doesn't improve much from there. Amber eyes that gaze blankly over a pronounced hawk nose is perhaps explained by a rider conversing with his lifemate, perhaps, or perhaps not. Rounded cheek and jawlines hint at his weight control issues, issues kept somewhat in check by the work regimen forced upon him during Weyrlinghood. His body has definitely been a beneficiary of this regimen. While not anywhere near chiseled, his musculature is apparent, but masked by a stubborn layer of fat that refuses to release its grip. This meld of muscle and fat forcing a barrel chest outline, firmly enforcing his squatiness.

Firmly fasted to his shoulder is the black and orange knot of Ista Weyr. Apparently lacking is the strand denoting his lifemate's color, but upon closer inspection, one of the strands of black, glistens with the soft touch of blue.

On homage to his lifemate bests describes this set of leathers. Either that, or Kr'lin is into blending in, either way, the leathers are a mottled adaption of his lifemate's hue. Black at first glance, but flashes of blue glint off the hide as different angles are offered to light. The only true color present on the trous is a consolation to his weyr, a burnt orange piping up the sides. The jacket itself is lined in fleece to counteract the bite of between, yet light enough to allow for the sweltering heat of Istan summers. Emblazened upon the jacket's back is the symbol of his wing, a phoenix rising over the outline of the Weyr.

Kr'lin is 26 Turns, 2 months, and 27 days old.

Kr'lin enters the living cavern, picking at his leathers. From time to time, he extends a hand and rubs his fingers together, as if he is trying to remove something from them. He's in a rather good mood, practically giggling as he walks across the cavern. He looks up from his leathers and scans the room, settling on someone he knows, "Hey, Sissi. Long time no see."

There's Sissi. Limping and rather muddy, but that, of course, is nothing out of the ordinary. And she's so, so nearly made it over to that cosy looking chair by the fire, when Kr'lin's call causes an abrupt turn which leads to overbalancement - which leads to her sitting on the floor and looking slightly stupid. "Urk," is thus the greeting given in return.

Sissi

Her chestnut-brown hair is untidily cut in a variety of lengths which average out around her jawline, undecided between frizzy and straight, but decidedly a mess; framing a thin face in which bright blue eyes tend to sparkle mischievously from under asymmetrical eyebrows and an old broken nose makes all her features look a tad awry. Only just edging on the tall side of average, her figure nevertheless reminds one of a beanpole - seemingly thin to the point of unhealthiness.

The assistant weyrlingmaster's tassels of black and brown are disguised, just about, by the twist of blue wrapped around them, the whole concoction clinging helplessly to her shoulder.

It was once a white sleeveless dress, about a size too big for her, hem cut up to around mid-thigh, and worn with her old patched-up navy trous and scuffed-up boots. An indigo chiffon blouse worn over the top, not buttoned, just knotted together above her waistline, keeps the sun off her shoulders.

Sissi is 27 Turns, 3 months, and 27 days old.

Kr'lin was not quite expecting that reaction to his greeting, but it is rather amusing, and since he is laughing already, he just continues, "You okay? Should really watch where you are walking." Although, gauging by her limping just prior to his greeting, he has to assume she has done this several times today.

Sissi makes no move to move any further: indeed, she seems to think she should give up now. "I /was/ watching," she points out, "It's just - the floor's not level." Possibly. "Ow. And. Well, it's keeping you amused, anyway!"

Kr'lin strides over to where Sissi is sitting on the ground, where he offers his hand, "Here, let me help you up." It's the least he could do, "And I wasn't really laughing at you... Well, okay, I was, but I was laughing before seeing you to, so therefore, it was just a continuation."

Sissi gives Kr'lin a wary look before reaching out for the offered hand, "You mean - you knew I was going to fall over before I did and you didn't /warn/ me?" She pouts. "I just hope you're not going to drop me straight back on my backside again!"

Kr'lin hadn't thought about that, well the dropping her back on her backside thing, "Oh no. I didn't know you were going to fall. I was laughing about something completely different actually." He's not going to come right out and say it. He came to Fort to escape what he did back at Ista. He's not going to come right out and say why he is laughing, Sissi might take it the wrong way.

Vivyca walks in.

Vivyca walks in, glancing around the cavern as though she's looking for something.

But Sissi asks, anyway. "About what, then?" He can laugh at other things on this planet aside from her? What a revelation! "Although I usually do fall," she points out, as if her appearance weren't confirmation enough. "Shut up!" That last one, though, possibly not at him.

From afar, Kr'lin has been followed! ;)

You paged Kr'lin with: Ooooooooh! You're got - a *groupie*!!!!

Vivyca

Despite her general dislike of the term, Vivyca is often referred to as beautiful. Loose black curls hang to just below her waist and are usually held back in a simple braid, a few tendrils escaping here and there to obscure her vision. Her skin holds an innate tan, and almond eyes give way to a delicate features. She stands at a five feet, six inches, and obviously fancies herself larger than she is. An air about her hints at an inner confidence, only lessened by her usually wary expression. A gold pendant rests in the dip of her collarbone, the minute lettering on the small disk impossible to read from a distance. A slight curve of her abdomen is the only indication of the child she carries, and though she makes no effort to hide it, she will rarely call attention to herself.

She is wearing a midnight blue shift over a loose fitting white shirt, open-collared and untucked. It reaches to mid-thigh and nicely accents her soft leather breeches.

She is awake and looks alert.

Vivyca is 19 Turns, 7 months, and 26 days old.

Kr'lin nods as he takes her hand to assist her in getting up, "Oh, just something I did to one of our candidates. Nothing really." So nothing that he felt the need to fly halfway across the continent. "Well, you should watch where you are walking, really. Can't have you injuring yourself too frequently. It just wouldn't be right." The shut up does catch him unawares, he so wasn't expecting that.

From afar, Kr'lin hehs, Either that or she wants to beat the snot out of Kr'lin. ;)

Kr'lin pages: She was one of the people that caught Kr'lin in the snipping.

Sissi is just a dead weight; no help or leverage whatsoever. "But," she complains, back on track now, "I don't, not as much, not any more, just sometimes, and what's not right about it anyway? Someone's got to." She squeezes her eyes shut a moment, then blinks. "And can you get Klimth to shut up or I'm going to go insane!"

Vivyca catches sight of Kr'lin, her eyes dark as she steps up behind him, saying softly, "I wouldn't say it was nothing.."

Kr'lin decides it's a good thing that Sissi is as light as she is, because helping her up could have ended up throwing out his shoulder otherwise, "You know, this is easier if you help.." He nods at her explanation, "Well, why does it have to be you? And what is Klimth saying to you.." Then there is the voice behind him, "Wha'?" That's vaguely familiar. His grip loosens on Sissi's arm..

Vivyca 's face forms a slight smirk at his reaction, "No, I would say it was quite something."

Vivyca says, "Considering your status.. couldn't one get reprimanded for such deceit? And on a young girl? Really.. I would expect more from a rider."

Sissi reflexively tightens her grip on Kr'lin's hand - falling back down again is something she's had enough of for today, and grumbles, "Well, I hurt so he hurts and now we all hurt, and - oh - no, I know it's not good but complaining just gives me a headache." She's so wrapped up in that she doesn't note the reason for Kr'lin's distraction.

Vivyca doesn't pay the other woman much heed as she waits for the Rider to acknowledge her presence.

Kr'lin reacts to the tightening of Sissi's grip with one of his own, "Oops, almost let you fall there." He is mildly confused. He could have sworn coming to Fort would have gotten him away from his problem at Ista, but apparently not. To Vivyca, he notes, over his shoulder, "She said I could do it." But, at the moment, he can't be too distracted, or else he'll let Sissi fall completely this time, "Well, if you get up and move to a chair, you won't have to worry about causing him pain anymore?"

Vivyca glances at Sissi, raising an eyebrow skeptically before going on, her tone icy, "You lied to the child.. and you know it."

"Easier said than done," Sissi decides, a flash of drollness before she just pulls - though when she's trying to not really stand on either leg the whole getting up thing isn't quite working. "Stupid," she mutters - which could be directed at just about anyone. But probably it's to her.

Kr'lin is really starting to get confused with this two conversations at the same time, so he just lifts a finger and holds it over his shoulder, "Could you wait a second? Let me get her up?" So, with that, he gives Sissi's arm a fairly decent tug, maybe he can just up and lift her onto her feet, "Really, Sissi. You want me to lift you bodily off the floor?" He could do that, you know..

"Bet you can't," is Sissi's immediate comment, although she does immediately make more of an effort to get upright at that - the tug helps - although part of her energy's gone into wondering, "Who's that you've brought with you?"

Vivyca's lip curls in disdain as she steps back, clasping her hands behind herself by habit.

Vivyca's eyes darken at the implication that she's 'with' this Rider.. quite the opposite.

This definitely has to be the longest help up Kr'lin has ever given to anyone, "Oh her? You know.. I don't know who she is." Which he doesn't, having only seen her in passing once prior to today, "She was a witness to what was amusing me when I first saw you. You know, prior to you falling." Another tug, hey, it worked last time.

Vivyca 's jaw tightens in obvious anger, "Amusement was it?" She growls.

Sissi is never one to do things simply, however she is sort of upright now, she just doesn't look inclined to stay that way. "Oh. She's the other funny one?" She peers at Vivyca, and then decides, "Maybe not." There's a pause, then, "Chair'd be good."

Kr'lin points to the one that Sissi was heading towards prior to his distracting her and causing her to fall. "That one looks comfortable." As for Vivyca, she gets a quick look and a note that she isn't too pleased, "Oh, she definitely isn't another funny one.. You could say that she is a very disgruntled one."

Vivyca smirks, "Very observative." She motions to Sissi, "Finish up here. I'd like to.. talk to you."

Sissi swings round and somehow, more by luck than any skill, manages to collapse into the chair rather than onto the floor. "I'll have my hand back now," she requests, pausing a moment to stare at Vivyca, "So - you dropped /her/, then?"

Vivyca lifts an eyebrow quizzically then shakes her head... the woman's not right in the mind.

Kr'lin ohs and releases Sissi's hand, "There you go.. And no. I didn't drop her. And just for the record, I didn't have anything to do with you falling." See, he's on trial here and he has to clarify these things. "She just walked in at an inopportune time."

Vivyca says, "You could say I was a witness," her tone is caustic, "to something he did to a young candidate."

"Sex in the Living Caverns again, was it?" Sissi's apparently recovering. "That's /usually/ a bad bet."

Vivyca eyes widen in disgust as she shakes her head, "Certainly not," she swallows back further comment, obviously distraught by this suggestion.

Kr'lin just stares at Sissi, "Umm. No.. Not that." He'd better tell her what he did prior to her going off too far off the beaten path, "I shaved one of our female candidate's head." Even mentioning it causes him to snicker, then that snicker develops into a full fledged chortle.

Vivyca is certianly angry now as she steps forward, swinging out her arm in what promises to be a sharp blow to his jaw, if he doesn't dodge in time.

Sissi can't suppress a giggle, "Well, let's just hope she Impresses, then. It'd be one less thing for her to do! - And cooler, in that dratted heat cauldron of yours!" She ducks. It's an unconscious reaction, and that swing isn't even aimed at her...

Kr'lin oles, or rather, he sidesteps and watches the swing sail by, "Hmm, see. Told you. Definitely not one of the funny ones." He seems to be rather unmoved by the attempted striking, "Although. I will have to say she shouldn't try that again..." He might be short, but, well.. He lifts firestone sacks for fun everyday. "Zureile's a good egg, if a little on the naive side."

Vivyca hisses an insult under her breath, using words you'd likely not hear on the schoolyard before stepping back, "You're sick, you know that?" She's paler than usual, her breathing harder. She turns from them and moves for the exit.

"I think you should've left her behind," Sissi decides, looking distinctly puzzled. "I mean... hair grows back. Doesn't it?" Who knows what happens to hair at Ista, mind.

Kr'lin shrugs at Vivyca's back, "I didn't bring her. I'm not entirely sure she wouldn't have thrown me off the dragon if I had brought her with me." He moves over to another chair near the hearth and sits into it slowly, "Well, it does grow back, but, well.. I kind of shaved her bald. Convinced her it was the only way to save her future hair."

Vivyca heads up the imposing flight of stairs.

"From being attached to her old hair?" Sissi finishes that thought off. "Makes sense to /me/." Whether it's meant to or not. "It does grow back though," she adds, all authority.

Kr'lin waves a hand in the negative, "Oh, no. Not that. Zureile tried to pass herself off as a boy a couple of months ago. Cut her hair short and dyed it." He has to convince Sissi what he did was for the best.. Well, not really, but he does have to explain how he got the candidate to agree to the shaving, "I kind of told her it was a total loss and that the only way she would get her hair back to normal would be to shave it all.. Scorched earthy type of thing."

Vaine enters from the Bowl.

Vaine has, it seemed, gotten into the yarn again. She dons a tangle of it all around her wrists and elbows and all in that madcap mess. "Happy day," she greets the masses beatifically.

Sissi ohs. Not that she does see. She doesn't. "So what's /her/ problem?" she wonders, toss of the head after the departed Vivyca, "She wants a haircut too?" Her attention, though, wanders to Vaine. "That's... evening - don't fall over that all, will you?" Just in case.

Kr'lin shrugs at the question, "I don't know for sure, but I suspect she didn't appreciate that I convinced Zureile that I needed to shave her head." Although... He does have to pause and think, "You might be right. She might have been mad that I didn't offer her a haircut too. Might explain why she came over here to Fort." The Fort greenrider gets an odd look, "Yeah. I already helped one woman off the floor today. I don't want to make it two."

Vaine ahems Sissi's way. "I," she corrects with a sweeping, grandoise tone, "am the ep...ep...very image of grace. I shall not tr...oh bother." This is where she ends up cross-legged on the floor with a loop around her ankle. "Why not make it two? I could use some help." She's not the one to bat her eyelashes. She just works to look like she can't resume standing on her own. Old age and all.

Kr'lin flashes a quick glance out towards the Bowl. He wouldn't, no. Not now. But back to the cavern, he has a woman on the floor, "Must be something in the Fort water. Makes females here unstable." Mental perhaps, but they do seem to tip over a lot, "You sure you can't help yourself up?" He asks, even as he starts to push himself up into a vertical position.

"I came here like this, I /told/ you the floor's not straight," Sissi points out, not looking particularly keen on getting up again - she's resting her ankles after her latest effort. "But you could make a career out of this," she tells Kr'lin, "You could start charging or something."

Vaine considers this. Being called unstable offends her liberated womyn attitude. But she also knows herself to be unstable, especially considering how she was almost able to read by her dragon's glow last night. She's not an oblivious creature. "It's not in the water," she huffs as she begins picking herself up, bit by bit. "It's in the snow. Four distinct seasons can get very unnerving, you know. Hiya." She waves Kassanna wards.

Kassanna

Her long wavy hair has now reached the small of her slim back. Her dark blue eyes have a mysterious marble pattern to them that have their own little gleam to them. Her once creamy complexion has gotten to be an even golden brown due to the many hours she spends outside. Her high cheekbones, small straight nose and her rose bud lips-which curve at the corners makes- makes her quite pretty. She isn't tall or too short just around average. Her slender frame looks like it could hold much strength to it but looking carefully her toned muscles are there even though they are hidden beneth the surface. She has grown to have an almost hour glass figure with the exeption of her smaller hips. Though she will never be concidered gorgeous, she has a certain eye catching quality about her.

A navy blue skirt clings loosely to her well muscled legs. Her shirt is a plain v-neck cream blouse flows around her curves gently. Black sandals are tied up in a criss cross pattern up to her mid calf to where her skirt ends. Her blonde hair is up in a simple knot and some loose strands hand down into her eyes.

Kassanna is 19 Turns, 3 months, and 27 days old.

Kassanna looks up from the table she's sitting at looking startled to find people in the lower caverns. She looks around slightly and waves to Vaine. "Hello." She says back to the strange lady.

"It /snowed/ already?" Sissi looks a little put out by this. "No-one told me it went and did that. Kr'lin gets a hopeful look, "I'll be over at Ista any minute." Within the next five would be good, but looks unlikely.

Kr'lin completes his standing maneouver and makes his way to the fallen Vaine, "Well, maybe y'all should move to Ista then. We only have two seasons. Unbearably hot and hot, but livable. Very easy on the mind really." He extends a hand towards her, hopefully this assist up will be a lot easier than Sissi's.

[-FortEB-] Alueth utilizes some energy in moving, now that she has attention. She sings a sweet croon as she glows toward the feeding pens.

Klimth> Alueth looks about through the dust as she enters from the bowl's center.

Klimth> Klimth jumped the gun; he prowls, he was waiting.

Vaine ahas. Aid at last. She makes good use of Kr'lin's offered hand, hauling herself to her feet. "Yeah, but I bet it's dreary in Ista. All that irresponsiblity. It gets old after a while, I bet." She points this out to the room in general. And then, more to herself, another "Oh bother. You could've waited until I'd untangled myself." And then she stalks bowlward, hold various lengths of yarn as if they were trailing skirts. Wouldn't do to trip on a Dramatic exit. She assumes that the maleriders will know what she's up to.

Vaine heads out into the immense bowl.

Sissi catches on: it took long enough. And it's a long, long way to hobble. She makes do with tackling a drudge instead. "Wineskin! Quick!" That's preparations, that and a groan.

Kr'lin sighs heavily and curses the dragon, "You'd better win this time. I don't want to have to get schnockered in a strange place tonight. Besides.. Two days in a row, that just isn't good for a person's ego." Not that Kr'lin has an ego. But being the nice guy he is, "So, Sissi. Need a ride?" Hey, she's hobbling... And more importantly, she is going to have wine.

Klimth> Alueth glides over the pens, not really paying attention to her suitors for the moment. Places to go, herdbeast to maul. A nice graceful little female is snagged between those talons, and blooded in any way but neatly. Saguine wine drenches her muzzle. She's an old hand at this flight business, though; tail keeps twitching, and she somehow looks seductive even in the middle of gratuitous violence.

The wine arrives nice and quick, and clutching that as if her life depended on it, Sissi just nods at Kr'lin. One thing less to have to worry about.

Kassanna blinks and watches Vaine. "Oh dear not again. She stands up and starts to make her way out. "Hey are you two alright?" She calls to them while eyeing the wineskin.

Kr'lin nods and turns his back to the other bluerider and crouches, "Up you go then." He isn't about to carry her in his arms, too much work, even for a light weight like Sissi. "So, where are we going, anyways?"

Sissi can't help but giggle, "It's like being twelve again..." and promptly semi-strangles Kr'lin. "Follow Vaine?" she suggests, a quick jerk of the head to Kassanna as well. "It's not /too/ far round the bowl."

Klimth> Klimth just likes to take a second to eye up the prize, and the competition, through the dust, although even then he's hardly incognito, not with that sparkly hide of his.

Klimth> Alueth

Klimth> Size dwindles along the frame of this small dragon, the sinuous curves of an innocent siren tighten and coil beneath her lagoon-green hide. Each breath is an undulation: strings of darker kelp strew about her shoulder and twist through crested neckridges. Her belly gleams opalescent and pale, similar seafoam leisurely lapping against headknobs, muzzle, and talons' nacreous glimmer. Shimmering, brassy glissandos wire a submerged strength into those fluid wingsails, hinting at the shifting paradoxes of this wise and willful nymph.

Klimth> Alueth is 14 Turns, 5 months, and 23 days old.

Klimth> Klimth

Klimth> Blunt of mind and motion he may be, but sheer opulence glitters in every outer facet of this cobalt-spangled dragon, even down to the acute curve of polished talons. That fabulous blue strokes decadence itself along his sleek, svelte bones, all a-flicker with grace notes of iridescent magentas and teals; they deepen into purple at neckridges' peaks and just there, at the tip of his spine where the tail-tip flares. Genteel green gloves the narrow bones of wingspars and distinguishes understated headknobs, but it's a deeper midnight that swirls wild applique along his throat and the hidden shadows beyond.

Klimth> Klimth is 10 Turns, 5 months, and 27 days old.

Klimth> Saironth follows the scent of the one he saw at the entrance to the living caverns. Seems he picked an opportune time to inhale her. He doesn't waste any time in finding his kill. 'Off with her head' he would have said if he was in an old Earth fairy tale, but since he's a dragon, he just chomps on a hapless herdbeast's head off and lets the initial spray splatter his muzzle before sucking down the rest.

Kr'lin hmms and nods, "Sounds good to me." He rises into a vertical position, shifting Sissi slightly as he does, "Well, this should be interesting." And he's off.

Exchanging one variety of hustle-and-bustle for another, you depart the lower caverns in favor of the vast Bowl.

You head into the first available ground-level weyr.

This room, protected by a large curved corridor, provides a resting place for an injured dragon and rider. Like all the other weyrs in the infirmary, this weyr follows a sterile and spartan style, and a faint smell of numbweed as well as other medicinal herbs pervades the air. Towards the rear of the weyr, away from its unevenly arched stone entrance, a stone couch is indented for that unfortunate dragon that has taken injury or ill; not so far away is a cot for that worried and anxious rider. It is sparsely decorated, as most of its inhabitants never bother to furnish it too completely--they all hope for a short stay.

Thick curtains close off the dragon-sized exit to the bowl, as well as the smaller one to the infirmary, and generally keep things windfree and secure.

Vaine is here.

Kr'lin enters from the Bowl.

Kr'lin enters with a Sissi on his back. He quickly lowers himself so she can dismount, "Don't be going too far away with that wineskin. I might need it later." Judging by his recent luck, he probably will.

"Get yer own," Sissi responds, rudely, slipping down to find a /firm/ foothold and bracing herself against the cavern wall, eyes sliding over to Vaine. "I'll probably be fighting you for it." So positive.

Vaine forgot the wine. Not that she needs it, though. Plenty of mental fog already in place. She gets high on L-Y-...P-...H?-...E. She casts a sweet smile to the blueriders. Now now. Don't you fight over l'il old /me/. Not that she says anything. It's down to the usual to blood or not to blood battle.

Klimth> Alueth /will/ have another round, thankyouverymuch. As soon as the first beast is AllGone, she turns on another. And a third. Die, fiend; I'm hungry.

Klimth> Klimth observes a few seconds longer - choosy, choosy - then dives in, close and precise, a minimum of energy expended, and a minimum of blood spilled: nothing superfluous.

Klimth> Saironth is quick with his killings and draining. A vampire in the guise of a dragon apparently. This time he just bites into the side of a herdbeast, not even bothering to release, just letting it's lifeblood fill his ichor.

Kassanna enters from the Bowl.

Klimth> Dasvareth watches the whole killing and drinking for a while before he pounces on his own prey. He quickly digs his claws into the beast and drains it's blood with satisfaction.

Sissi fiddles with the cork on the wineskin, favouring Vaine with a returning grimace. "Perfect end to a perfect day..." she mutters. Still sarcastic, still staring.

Klimth> Alueth feigns further interest in the hunt a few moments more, playing cool Diana in a random fit of deceit; in actuality her ichor's boiling as plate tectonics never made the oceans do. The time has come...whether or not pigs have wings shall be discussed at a later date. She paces restlessly after a wherry that she has no intention to kill.

Klimth> Saironth bites through his latest victim, leaving it's now blood free corpse in pieces on the pen floor. A quick search of the pens finds that there is no others nearby and that he risks wasting precious ichor and the lifeblood he has drained up to this point in the attempt to gain more. So, instead, he waits, eyes firmly locked on the green. It's time. Yes.

Klimth> But cabbages and sealing wax? Klimth prefers, instead, to stick to wherry: one more for luck.

Klimth> Dasvareth licks his lips hungrily as he watches both green and beast. One more beast before the green. He quickly bites down and drains.

Klimth> Alueth spreads her wings and launches upward, soaring higher and higher yet above the Weyr.

Klimth> Saironth downwings with as much force as he can muster, it's up in the air he goes, after the green.

Klimth> Saironth spreads his wings and launches upward, soaring higher and higher yet above the Weyr.

Klimth> Dasvareth eyes the rising green. It's time to fly.

Klimth> Klimth is just a fraction of a second after: away he goes.

Klimth> Dasvareth spreads his wings and launches upward, soaring higher and higher yet above the Weyr.

Klimth> You spread your wings and launch upward, soaring higher and higher yet above the Weyr. The ground tilts half-dizzyingly below, but somehow that doesn't matter now, oh no. . .

Klimth> Saironth downwings with as much force as he can muster, it's up in the air he goes, after the green. The current object of his desire. A dragon's desires are so fleeting, but for now, it is her and she is the goal.

Klimth> Klimth releases bursts of pent-up energy in those heavy wingbeats, rising, rising, jostling slightly in an attempt to gain a better position.... Would you fly a little faster... there's a chasing blue behind me and he's treading on my tail.

Klimth> Dasvareth raises his head to watch the green launch. He bunches him legs and shoots into the air after the only thing in his sight...The green.

Klimth> Saironth bellows as she waggles her rump at him. A taunt will not discourage him, oh no, he will show her and she will be his soon. Wings take deep bites out of the air in his quest to be the victor. Her turn is matched by one of his own, his wings beating incessantly.

Klimth> Klimth is just too competitive, even if it is only a game. Is it? He rises above the pack slightly, all the better to see, and tack his lines of pursuit: no time for waggles, too much of a diversion.

Klimth> Dasvareth watches his new pray enjoying the taunting. It's only right for her to be free, for now. He takes the turn quickly with a sharp tilt of his brown wings and pumps himself forward and out of the pack. Hunting is something to be done alone.

Klimth> Alueth leads her oysters in another direction, this time twisting down -- to the lake, maybe, as wet as wet can be -- but not quite. It's not a dive, it's a planned fall from grace, in which she stops herself well above the bowl floor, and then tilts back up again. She promises great things, of course. But come and fly, first.

Klimth> Saironth is the cat and the green is the mouse. Where it moves, he follows, the others might try and separate themselves from the crowd, but that only means more room for him and he doesn't have to waste precious energy to do so. She might make it a plan fall, he uses it as an opportunity to dive and gain a few precious meters on the green. A moment after she stops her decent, he slows his with an extension of his wings, followed by a downwinging to continue his pursuit upwards.

Klimth> Klimth doesn't quite stand on his head, although in his enthusiasm to follow her, whether right or not, he almost goes over, then it's a slight roll to pull himself out of a spin, but even after all that he's still somehow, miraculously, tracking, even if not perfectly on track.

Klimth> Alueth does not meekly play mouse. To her observations, she is the cat; she's only giving them mind because she's bored and wants to play. Well, maybe that's not boredom. But she plays games even as she tires -- some of them, though, are also wearying, out of breath, or fat, so she considers it no worry. A few less refined duck'n'tumbles, a handful of zigs, a zag thrown in just for fun, and she spreads her wings for a more prolonged final glide. Hey, you. Men-things. I'm over /here/.

Klimth> Dasvareth twitches his tail playfully and winks out ::Between::.

[RL]

Klimth> Saironth is not fat and he might be wearying, but not enough that he can't be the victor. Her scent still filling his nostrils, he doesn't lose sight of her. She might zig and zag, but that isn't enough to lose him. The glide gives him the opportunity to get in a quick burst of wingbeats and gain on her. He extends his legs and tail, trying to grab a hold of the green and be the victor.

Klimth> Klimth is as direct as he dares, wingsails cast to their widest as he angles himself for collision course: a trap set but yet unsprung, caution thrown to the winds and carried away by the gusts around him.

Klimth> Alueth is captured, claimed, and -- for the moment -- kept more or less in a stable location. Relative to Klimth, at least. Flyingflyingflying...fallingfallingfalling. But not dyingdyingdying. This is life! She meshes, wing on wing, and gets on with the rest of the fun.

Klimth> Klimth bugles, interdispersed with more than a little chortling in his joy. O frabjous day!

Sissi donates Kr'lin the wineskin. Guess he gets it after all.

Kr'lin walks by Sissi and takes the wineskin, "See, told you I'd need it.." And with that, he makes a quick departure out of the ground weyr to have a 'talk' with his lifemate. Really needs to get his urges in check.. Bloody dragon.

Kr'lin heads quietly out of the weyr, and back to the bowl.

Klimth> Saironth is starting to lose on a frequent basis now. This is getting somewhat ridiculous. But like all things, this failure will soon slip from his mind. And even his lifemate will be able to forgive him in time. He falls away from the pair and heads for his waiting lifemate below.. Home.

Klimth> Saironth circles lower into the bowl.

Vaine looks around for her Sissi. Come to me my beamish one...

Sissi joins the dance.