The Riders
*********************
L'ria
It is hard to say what you notice about this young woman when you see her. Is it her skin, the color of sweetened klah? Perhaps her eyes, a deep, rich, dark brown that stare intently outward. Or maybe her hair, short and black, with tight bouncy curls. Her height is impressive as well, close to six feet, supported by two very long, slim legs. But no..most people notice that she never really looks at them when she talks, eyes always gazing slightly upwards, towards the sky. Dedicated to her Craft, she is willing a moment's notice to go into the workings of celestial mechanics...or her fondest wish, to be able to fly.
Black as night, supple leathers caress L'ria's body, fitting her tightly. More snug than she's used to, it's rather uncomfortable to wear them at times, and the former Starcrafter is hoping that they'll loosen a bit as time passes. Created to hopefully match Sidereth's straps, the leather shines and sparkles with a multitude of bright points, showing whenever light hits. It's a rather nice outfit as a whole, well-crafted for riding.. but it's just not what Lari is used to. Give her a nice, baggy outfit perfect for stargazing any day. Double-corded black and white, the colors of Telgar Weyr, form a single loop with a long tail. Combined with the sparkly dark green twisting through it, this new knot bound in silver thread signifies L'ria's new position as Skyskimmer Wingrider.
You guess she is in her late teens.
She is awake and looks alert.
Starry eyes and glowing self can't all be attributed to Lari's lifemate.

L'ren
At 6'4, his lanky form is a bit taller than average, with long legs used to crossing distances easily. His wide-shouldered frame is set in a perpetually relaxed stance, showing him capable in a laid-back sort of way. His fine flaxen hair has been carefully combed back, though it still has the tendency to stray.  Sharp, expressive hazel eyes shine bright with playfulness--mischief with an unpredictable edge--and his wide smile is infectious. His actions seem deliberate, perhaps overdramatic. The nails on his strong, dexterous hands seem permanently tinged with various woodstains, and his fingers bear a number of old scars from slipped tools during his apprentice Turns.
He is wearing leathers done in a rich, creamy brown, all clean lines and elegant simplicity. The jacket is lined in a thick wool fleece for warmth, and accents in forest green extend across his shoulders and around the cuffs and collar, drawing down the edges of the lapel. A taupe flannel tunic with a deep V laces up his chest. Heavy gloves have been tucked into the wide belt with prominent, sturdy rings which is securely cinched around his waist, and black boots rise to his knee. The black-and-white double-corded knot on his shoulder is looped and tasseled in the fashion of a wingsecond, entwined with a bronze strand, and held in place by a j'man woodcrafter's pin painted half green, half white. L'ren is wearing DawnRunner Badge. On L'ren's wrist is a bracelet encircled by a thin vein of quartz, which ripples around it like a
stream.
He is awake and looks alert.

K'mra
Semi-straight midnight hair curls around K'mra's chin, never quite tempered, always seeming a bit out of place; deepest darkness, gossamer strands of heavy hair ripple and cascade around pixie-like ears, covering completely. Wide walnut eyes, dark pools of expressive curiosity, peer; intelligent gaze unceasingly active. Tapered eyebrows arch upon a high forehead, chin tilted at a decisively stubborn angle. Tall -- not too lanky, but thin -- she's an overall impressing figure, unsullied innocence radiating with the woman's inquisitive nature.
A crisp white blouse tucks into tight wherhide leathers, dyed ebony. The black wherhide jacket covers the tunic, unfastened in the front to show the billowing alabaster cloth. A badge on the front of the jacket marks K'mra as belonging to the Skyskimmer Wing. Burgundy fur shows just above the neckline of the jacket, although the soft warmth lines the entire inside. Leather boots, shin-high, match the rest of the outfit -- being black, -- a warm ruff of maroon barely visible.
She is awake and looks alert.
*********************

The Dragons
********************
Moonbeams fall in silvery splendor across incredibly long wings of delicate midnight verdure: hunched up against her slim frame, these legacies of her sire only rarely reveal their shadowed undersides, sprinkled with points of shimmering lemon-lime. Similar sparkles brighten her entire length, from dainty nose to whippy tail, save a steely shamrock sheen tintalating the darkened sage heather of her hide, a gentle light to offset the sponges of forboding forest that collect in all her creases and curves and settle into the piercing black of her talons. Stretched in celestial splendor, her long and lissome form breathes a graceful celerity odd in its composition; only the stellar calm of her eyes against the blue-green dusk of her attenuated muzzle hints of her dreamy potential.
Shiny black straps have been carefully crafted, even if L'ria can't sew to save her life. The dark leather sparkles in the light and the numerous buckles serve to allow room for the green to grow, as well as to keep passengers safely hooked in.
Sidereth is 2 Turns, 2 Months, and 9 Days old.
She wants to go stargazing!

Beaten, worked, and shined to glowing, bronze metal plates are bent over sharp ridges, melted then smoothed and stretched in streaks down his arched neck and solid sides. Stomach and legs are tarnished with dusty black-greens emphasizing curves and shadows while darkwood browns in rich tones shine underneath the molten hide. Like a ripple of liquid metal, the tail flows behind him, wavering and dancing with life's exhuberance; likewise the wings of shining bronze shields stretch forth from blazing shoulders, wingtips flaring skywards.
Adrith's riding straps have been dyed a deep green, leather's shine and gleaming silver rings proving recent and attentive care. A small Woodcraft insignia has been added: a circular background in white paint, the central conifer showing as the rich green leather itself.
Adrith is 4 Turns, 3 Months, and 2 Days old.

Secrecy shrouds cinnamon loveliness just as oversized pinions of amber and umber shroud a graceful form. A roguish face, etched in chestnut and blurred in walnut, smiles wryly from behind a concealing curtain of wingsail. Ebony streams from headknobs to drift over shoulders, swirling away into deepest umber on belly and limbs. Amidst the flux, brilliant silver spirals and twists, lithe as his form is graceful. No runt, though slim and wiry, he retains grace and poise, despite the handicap of his excessive wings. Burgundy-dyed straps darkly shine, carefully stitched with ebony thread.  Numerous silver buckles gleam dully, offsetting the deep wine-red leather's polished luster.
Tyranoth is 2 Turns, 2 Months, and 9 Days old.
*********************

Northern Curve of the Bowl
A symphony of sounds resonate off the weathered face of the cliff as raucous activity dominates this side of the bowl. Wisps of conversations can be heard as weyrfolk to and from the living cavern while riders, brandishing full stomachs, head back to restless lifemates. Shallow grooves, made by powerful talons, mar the sandy floor and make walking a bit tricky as you try to navigate through patchy crowds of people in search of your next destination.

The sky is clear and bright without a cloud to be seen. Belior is waxing towards three-quarters full and Timor is waning from a quarter dark. It is a spring early morning.

Tyranoth crouches, shoulders slouching, rumbling smugly as K'mra slides off his back.

From Sky Above Northern Curve of the Bowl, Adrith swoops in from above. Adrith lands lightly on the ground and furls his wings.

K'mra slithers from betwixt nutmeg 'ridges, grimace readily coming across expression as Tyranoth gives a slight shoulder-push. Spying others, the brownrider gives a slight wave. "H'lo." Generic Kym-greeting.

L'ria paces up and down, up and down. "Nonononononono." She's whining. Don't mind her. Sidereth just ignores her, twitching nervously, muzzle tilted towards the night sky above.

L'ren seems to be in an odd mood, definitely. Of course, he's usually quite odd, so how can you tell today from any other day? Ahem. "Hey everyone," he calls with a wave interrupted by a peer at Adrith. Hmm....

Ganith looks up from his curled up spot on the bowl floor and watches with growing interest.

Adrith preens, always looking his best when he's admired, of course. A rumble is sent towards his adoring fans.

With a slight quirk of the lips that could be called moody, K'mra pivots enough to regard bronzer, adding a half-hearted wave. Glancing back towards her brown, she relaxes -- or as much as possible -- upon that same offending shoulder. And he watches the proceeding with enough interest, to be sure.

Alth lands quickly, flicking his baby blue wings agitatedly.

Sidereth isn't admiring a silly old /bronze/. She's a star-girl. Look how they shine and sparkle.. maybe she'll join them soon...

L'ren snorts at Adrith's vanity, giving him a nudge with a shoulder as he passes. "Silly. Quit it," he murmurs. "Care for a drink, K'mra? I'm in the mood, I think." For something, certainly.

Ah, but what of the browns? And Tyranoth is rival enough for those offending stars -- just watch him shine.

L'ria continues her pacing, fists clenched, obviously agitated about something. But is it Siddy.. or something else?..

K'mra considers the offer, finally shrugging shoulders in the semblance of nonchalance, none the worst, for being feigned. "Ach, I could use it," she notes dryly. Quickly sneaking a glance L'ria's way, she invites, "How about you?"

Adrith isn't a star so much as he's... a rock. Yup, a big, clunky, grounded rock. But he does kind of shine there, reflecting celestial light as much as any moon.

"What about me?" Hiss. Watch out for those L'ria-fangs and claws. She just might bite.

L'ren kind of coughs. Thirsty... he's so thirsty.... "Yeah, c'mon L'ria. Come have a drink with us? Sidereth will be alright."

From Sky Above Northern Curve of the Bowl, Arkanth has arrived.

Alth flips his own shiny wings a few more times, full of extra energy and nowhere to use it.

Arkanth lands lightly on the ground and furls his wings.

Ganith sits up, slowly waking up as he watches the activity in the bowl that has been happening while he was slumbering on, oblivious.

L'ria narrows dark brows, though her fists slowly release. "Drink.. Yeah.. she's fine.. she's not going anyplace.." She would have already, right?

K'mra licks quickly-drying lips, hint of a smugish smirk appearing. But only a hint, for she nods, serious enough. "Only a drink," she bargains. But no one said she was much good at that; who knows what's hidden in that offer.

Sidereth remains in her place, starry form still reaching out, reaching above, whirling eyes lost in contemplation... until she notices all those /males/. They'll have to be dealt with.. after a bit more stargazing.

Ganith rumbles, stretching his long brown from before looking around, fully awake now. His wings rustle, a deep rumbling issuing from his throat.

Arkanth ain't really here. He just mosied on in from the lake, but no bother. Finding a dull corner, he sits. For a dragon, this is indeed a feet. But he does manage it, and proceeds to stare intently into the corner. Ho hum.

Tyranoth watches rather closely, fluttering overly-large pinions to rearrange them with finiky preciseness along browned side. Casual is he; just mind that flicking tail over there. It's a mind of its own.

Adrith ruffles wingsails in a complicated effort to get shield-like flanks to reflect light appropriately. Broad chest puffs out, eyes narrowing as he realizes--something's glowing here, and it isn't just the moon.

Sidereth turns slightly. That's Jov. He likes stars.. but they're /her/ stars. He can't have them! Slowly, she edges her glowing bulk away from the others... must flee soon....

Alth struts along a little bit, swishing his tail from side to side. Can't repress the energy!

L'ria starts to edge back as well, a mirror of her lifemate. Eyes stray towards the sky, before a ragged piece of hide is ripped out and scribbled on. "Leave me alone, I'm busy!" Not to mention testy.

Arkanth lets out a deep, mournful sigh. Wheels churn around his brain, buried beneath the complacently whirling eyes. Why does he even put himself through this? Oh, the agony... Oh, the suffering! Doncha feel bad for him?

Adrith bides his time. Sure, he doesn't have to strut or edge closer to the celestial green to watch and wait. She isn't going anywhere just yet. Sure, he feels like he's up to his eyeridges in blues and rival bronzes, but they have to wait, same as he does.

L'ren quirks a brow at L'ria. "Busy? Busy doing what? I just asked if you want some wine. You look like you could use it."

K'mra could. Waggling fingers at L'ren, she suggests, "We could just bring out a skin or two. One fer L'ria, if she don't feel like moving?" Head is cocked, greenrider in question is regarded. "Aye, but it sure tastes...good." Yes. That must be the word.

"I don't need wine! I don't need anything!" Proddy L'ria is far from her normal, calm, logical self. Be scared. "Leave me a/lone/!" As for Sidereth, she seems to like that idea as well. With no warning, she lauches upward, her triumphant bugle echoing in the night sky as she heads for her stars.. or at least the pens. For now.

Sidereth launches powerfully into the air!

Tyranoth restlessly rustles, autumn's foliage -- but those leaves take to swirling, take to leaping, take to...flying?

**********************
Dragons take an exodus to the Feeding Pens.
**********************

(Tyranoth) Alth follows after as quickly as he can, thrilled to have something to expend his energy on! His oragey-yellow eyes clash horribly with his sky blue hide, but they watch Sidereth intently, waiting to make sure she lunges after a buck before he commits himself to a meal.

(Tyranoth) Feeding Pens
(Tyranoth) The cupric tang of life's energy hangs heavy in the air and whirls with a nauseous glee across the wide expanse of feeding ground that takes up half of the southern end of the bowl. The startled cries of herdbeast and wherry alike are quickly muffled by the rapid descent of dragon bulk, soon to be silenced forever, leaving behind a mottled pool of blood, the only testimony that they ever existed. A twisted barrier of wood surrounds the outer perimeter, keeping the beasts within the corral and, conveniently enough, providing a perch for both human and 'lizard.
(Tyranoth) The sky is clear and bright without a cloud to be seen. Belior is waxing towards three-quarters full and Timor is waning from a quarter dark.
It is a spring early morning.
(Tyranoth) Lounging on the pen rails, you see Mascule' and Alth.
(Tyranoth) You see Sidereth, Adrith, and Jovinth here.

(Tyranoth) Petulant and savage, pouty and fierce, Sidereth lunges for a nearby herdbeast, neatly snapping its neck. Blood is drained, slowly, then faster. Even the starriest of them all needs fuel for the journey to the sky.

(Tyranoth) Adrith gathers himself and pounces, awkward bulk shifting to muscled grace and back as he shifts from ground to air to ground again, though all this is forgotten as his target is reached: an arrogantly juicy wherry, just seeming to taunt him in its plumpness. Its blood slithers down his throat, heat of summer and stoked forges building in his belly. Scarlet stains still on his muzzle, he turns to look at Sidereth, a masculinely coy pose, wondering if she still watches or if she's still watching stars.

"She.. she..." L'ria swallows, fists reclenching again. "Blood.." Dark eyes close, head whipping about as if to ward off anyone nearby. "Blood it!" She'll get the hang of this one day.

L'ren narrows his eyes, swearing graphically under his breath. "L'ria, are you alright?" He moves to her elbow. "Can I take you somewhere private? Watch her, stay with her," he urges.

(Tyranoth) From Sky Above the Feeding Grounds, Arkanth has arrived.

(Tyranoth) Alth flings himself wildly at the nearest wherry, tearing it down more with reckless abandon than any particular talent or skill. Just the blood, Ma'am! His muzzle, sticky with trails of hot, salty blood, lifts from one moment to the next, looking towards that glittering jewel of a green.

(Tyranoth) All grace, all brown-hided exuberance, Tyranoth takes a detour, umber Beauty into those Beasts. Snagging one with talons, he retires to dip head in a mocking gesture once linked to politeness, digging into the beastie's lifeblood with a passion oft forgotten. A gentleman no more, he bloods the kill with a savage lust for more than just blood, it seems.

(Tyranoth) Arkanth swoops down from above and quickly lands in an empty spot, surveying the herds intently.

L'ria merely jumps at the touch, usually faraway thoughts even more so on this night, lost in a starry night sky and a pen of blood. "Private? Watch?" Her eyes stay shut, the word 'blood' recited methodically under her breath.

(Tyranoth) Arkanth finally makes his way to the feeding pens. All right, all right. He'll be a man and admit it. He made a mistake, and got lost. Bah. But no matter! He's here now. Although now he's sulky. Landing sulkily, he sulkily surveys the beasts. Something to eat, maybe?

Brows furrowing, K'mra takes to munching upon lower lip, glancing hurriedly towards the caverns and the inevitable wine. But wine is no longer her primary concern, for the brownrider sidles towards L'ria, frowning at the others.

(Tyranoth) Adrith reaches out to take another with a calculated swipe of his talons, almost casual in the ease with which he dispatches it. The beast's contents are carefully conserved as the bronze drains it, knowing he'll need every drop of liquid energy. Muzzle lifted, he sends out a clarion call, his voice trumpeting in echo off the bowl wall opposite. With a snap, he extends the impressive span of his wings, steely summer's heat against cool spring night.

(Tyranoth) One down, and now the second, 'beast falls, lifeblood falling as a shooting star does.. only this star is still on the ground. Sidereth bugles once again, though L'ria wins, and once again she merely bloods, red fluids flowing over her muzzle and licked up just as quickly as they appeared.

(Tyranoth) Alth launches at the next beast, bringing it to the ground with much more class. Finally showing the experience of a twenty Turn dragon, he breaks the neck in a quick flip of his head, and proceeds to slurp all the juicy stength from its body.

(Tyranoth) Arkanth sighs again. This is such a tiresome thing, catching those silly hearbeasts. Oh well. He'll do what he has to do. Choosing a particularly ripe looking one, he pounces. Pounces? Yes indeed. Not very elegant, but it gets the job done.

(Tyranoth) Tyranoth stirs wings, almost in annoyance, stolidly disregarding the drained beast, whorling eyes alighting upon vibrant green hide, starry-eyed for a moment. But hardly more -- fleeting glance falls upon those fleeing beasties, and he fells another with blunted claws. Putting aside all-important observance, brown bloods the kill, only raising muzzle to release a loud, guttural bugle.

"Away.. away from here.." L'ria suddenly pulls away from the crowd, backing up towards the direction of the living cavern.

(Tyranoth) Adrith could cultivate a liking for stars, certainly, especially ones that rise in the skies, instead of fall. He knows about suns and the way sunlight reflects and warms, and how stones are warmed by the caress of heat. As a lover takes the beloved, he snatches another beast and drains it, desire quickening within him to more than flight's heat and challenge. What glow he sees is not from stars, no, though it matches the morning rising sun.

(Tyranoth) Alth's thirst finally sated, his hunger now only of the lusty kind, he watches Siddy with baited breath - as long as you think the stench of freshly dead animals will catch a green dragon.

K'mra eyes escaping rider, frown playing upon features, only slight. "Away," she agrees. "And to the wine, perhaps?" Hopeful glance extrapolates to include the others, jerking a thumb towards the indicated cavern.

L'ren scrubs at his head with his fingers, touseling his hair into a haystack. "Wine? Wine? You can think of that at a time like this?" He's jittery, yes, liking as much as Adrith to be off. "We should go somewhere, though. It'd be bad to be caught out here."

All sorts of weird sounds are still eminating from the ground weyrs...

K'mra has that nessicary tolerance for wine, it seems. But other things? Not so certain. Lucid is as lucid does, and brownrider manages a wobbly grin, more of a smirk than a smile. Running fingers through wild short-cropped hair in an unconcious gesture that might imply nervous forboding, she merely shrugs. "And why not?" she counters. Especially if L'ria's heading that way.

Well maybe if Sasha and K'len moved their butts, Lari would have a better place to go. "Don't follow me, leave me alone!" She's surrounded by meanies. And off L'ria goes. Maybe the game room is empty...

(Tyranoth) Arkanth sighs again. Just because. That herdbeast didn't taste too good. And really, he's still depressed from getting lost. Now this. A bad tasting herdbeast. What's next?? Arkanth gives a wary shake of his head, and wanders off. No bother. He'll just go pout by the lake. Toodles.

L'ria walks distractedly toward Main Living Cavern.

L'ren doesn't know where L'ria's headed. Point of fact, the greenrider doesn't seem to be headed anywhere, least of all, towards wine. "Well, er... no good reason." Nope, nope. "Think you could grab one arm, and I'd get the other? We could haul her off somewhere," he offers K'mra. Oh, that sounds particularly... unusual. Oops, there she went.

(Tyranoth) Arkanth rumbles toward Outside the Feeding Pens.

**************
Sasha an' NPC Alth go, too. And the riders take an exodus to...the Candidate's Chamber?
*************

(Tyranoth) Sidereth likes that idea. Flee, flee! Towards the stars that are her haven.. and up she goes, catch the glowing one if you can!

***********
And look! Them dragons are taking another exodus, too.
***********

(Tyranoth) Tyranoth rustles, all bluster and bluff. New to this game of pounce and prowl, he contents himself to wait in Rukbat's's glare, rivaling emerald empire, rising to match the sun. But waiting isn't his specialty, and so he vrooms upwards.

(Tyranoth) So many males, so little time... and one has to reserve precious moments for viewing the stars. And so Sidereth soars higher, searches for the meteor of her dreams.. or maybe that's just Belior...

K'mra nods towards L'ren, eagerly anticipating. "Not acceptable for th'   residents to catch us in the act, eh?" Approaching L'ria and what she hopes is an acceptable distance, she quirks the brow, thread of a smile trailing across face.

**********
We paused in an office.
**********
"I said leave me alone!" And inwards L'ria flees again.

(Tyranoth) Sidereth catches a glance of blue, brown, and bronze. They're /following/ her! Sparkly form quickly catches a thermal and zooms forth. Eat your heart out, Superman.

(Tyranoth) Sidereth glides high in the sky as if to touch the stars toward Sky Above the Center of the Bowl.

(Tyranoth) Sky Above the Center of the Bowl
(Tyranoth) Surrounded by the stark gray of Telgar Weyr's bowl, you glide amidst errant gusts of wind, navigating past the myriad of dragons that reside within the Weyr's majestic walls.
(Tyranoth) The sky is clear and bright without a cloud to be seen. Belior is waxing towards three-quarters full and Timor is waning from a quarter dark. It is a spring early morning.
(Tyranoth) Flittering around are Fanuilh and Flour.
(Tyranoth) You see Dyrth and Sidereth here.

"Go away!" L'ria runs off again. The Candidates won't bother her.

Candidates' Chamber
Nestled within the quaint walls of chipped stone lies a few scattered cots, each with a colorful quilt folded neatly at one end, and a solid-backed chair stationed near the other. An array of artwork graces the walls depicting the life of a dragonrider from the early, white-robed Candidancy days to the ultimate horror of fighting Thread, seemingly brought to life beneath the flickering light of various glowbaskets.
Peeking down from a natural ledge, you see Afra and Bond.
You see Chores List, Candidates' Board, and Sami's fur-covered cot here.
Samira is asleep here.
L'ria and L'ren are here.

K'mra nods towards the chamber's entrance. "You can get the door," she informs L'ren. She'll, ahh, restrain L'ria? But that might be smart, in the rider's present frame of mind.

L'ria has a mind? Oh yes.. she does. Somewhere in the clouds. But tonight it's in the stars, in the moons, in the sky far above. "Siddy.." Eyes close yet again, and she remains perfectly still. Lari isn't going anywhere. But Sidereth might.

L'ren frowns. "Get the door?" he echoes. Yeah, he doesn't think too well when there's a giant bronze lump controlling all his desires. "Oh yeah, and leave L'ria to you? I don't think so." Too bad L'ria isn't the whip-wielding, toe-stomping-on type; he might be able to trust the brownriders intentions more.

Crrrrrr-rack!
Woo baby!

(Tyranoth) Adrith rises on a thermal, tremendous bulk drawn Pernwards, defying the pull of bodies someone who understood physics a bit better might understand. Wings pumping upward, nearly mechanical in the precision of their drive, he cruises onward, patient, not the type to rush into anything, even if he could. He waits, gathering momentum and judiciously using windcurrents to his advantage, shining shield-like wings glinting in the morning light.

K'mra grimaces after bronzer, pulling a face. A glare, and glower, and she hisses, "Ach, are you dense?" Or Adrith, as it might seem. Brownrider, stolid and staunch, defies, holding her ground with a scowl.

(Tyranoth) Tyranoth soars, umber wings snapping outwards in a flagrant, flamboyant motion, liquidy smooth. And so he flows, after the prize, steadily heading towards the trophy. And he'll win the championship, he's certain; brain overrides brawn, and he prowls after the green, intent upon his target.

L'ren props palms on hips in an uncharacteristically defiant gesture. "Yeah, and so what if I am? What are you gonna do about it?" Sure, he can't match K'mra's scowl, but he can waggle his eyebrows, and does.

(Tyranoth) Sidereth is nobody's fallen star; she's a supernova ready to burst. Onward and upward she flies, body outstretched towards her own prize. So close.. yet so far.. but she will catch them.. and not be caught in the process!

L'ria 's hand outstretches, a mimic of her lifemate, leather-clad skin straining for an invisible star above her head. Ignore the others and maybe they'll go away. These are /her/ stars.

K'mra, herself, the brownrider regales bronzer with a scowl, narrowing eyes, furrowing brows, chin held high. "You'll see," she promises with a smirk, twist of the lips assuring her confidence in her lifemate, fighting his own battle. "Just wait."

(Tyranoth) Adrith rises after, burning fuel like a new star, hot and bright and not caring who knows it. Wings pumping, he follows, breath pumping even and efficient as bellows, blood in his stomach sparking energy like a storm. Eyes narrowing against Rukbat's glow--or is that Supernova Sidereth?--he arrows onward, steel and bronze over heated passion and desire's bright flames.

(Tyranoth) Tyranoth shimmies upwards, silky smooth, velveted motion of the wings pumping him upwards to soar to the stars, sheer determination. But to hold that nova together with only this willpower -- attempt he must, and so darkness overpowers light, umber pinions pushing forward, upwards. No dwarf himself, he defies nature's force with a lash of the tail, surging after fleeting glory's glimpse -- Sidereth.

(Tyranoth) Pralanth has arrived.

L'ren flickers his tongue across parched lips, perhaps echoing a gesture of Adrith's, or feeling smeared blood darkening his hide. L'ria may only want to flee, but this bronzer's desires are much different. His own blood heats like a climate change, Adrith's desires warring with his like a meteor storm.

(Tyranoth) Pralanth glides in on honey glistening brown wings, a uncharastic bugle of frustration because he missed the start, though he is quick to move himself into the pack, pulling up the end and gaining fast.

K'mra grips her own fingers, pulling and stretching, clinging to all ten digits.   Frustration mixes with want, features a stage for battling emotions stirring within her, or without. Tyranoth's lust matches her own, becoming hers, and she sends a hopeless glance towards L'ria, staunch brown's determination winning out.

Arm still grasps for the stars, but L'ria remains still and unmoving, whispered words on slightly parted lips her only testament to awareness.. of whatever sort. Closer now.. the time drawing nearer.. just as Siddy starts to slow down high above.

(Tyranoth) Tiring, tiring.. even this bright part of Pern's future must descend. And so Sidereth starts to spiral lower and lower, trying to keep away from the males. She bugles again, though the sounds starts to fade as she moves towards the ground, the stars no longer in her reach.

(Tyranoth) Adrith notes the glorious green's tiring wingbeats, his own reserves taxed from trying to match her agility and skill. Power and bulk finally coming to give him more of an edge, he narrows his wings to match Sidereth's downward spiral, raggedly cutting corners and overcorrecting--yet he cannot follow in the green's tight motion. Moving to the outside and remaining above, he can only hope for a catch in the chance of a wild swerve or sudden change of course.

(Tyranoth) Pralanth breaks free of the pack of engulfing bronze blue and brown like a glittering sliver fish flipping up from the midnight sky of ocean, the stars seeming to twinkle just for him as the length of his wings shadows their brilliance. His head flips back and he almost seems to bugle before he turns slowly to see his target dwindling like a fallen star, blinking out into the night, and quick as a blue he flips a wing and dives to save her, to make his wish and catch this twilight star before it flashes out for ever.

(Tyranoth) Tyranoth peals, bright and light as that sun he defies. To catch the falling star, to hold the tumbling lady; he surges after, ever the gentleman. Youthful pride and treble's arrogance, he makes his move, prowling above the green's glamour; a swell of power, and so he shoots, ready and waiting.

L'ria suddenly calls out, "Siddy!", then starts to fall to the floor. In the meantime Siddy's still falling too. Really.

Alarm registers, somewhere in the brownrider's face. K'mra hastens to help, hovering as much as Tyranoth above does. But patience is so few and far between, and she moves to catch L'ria from the trivialities for the floor -- or bronzers, in that case.

(Tyranoth) And just as they fall together.. they get caught together. Like a clump of thread entangling a fighting pair, so does Sidereth get entangled with Tyranoth. If you can't keep it in the pants, keep it in the family.

L'ria is very out cold. She fainted. Maybe K'mra will have to find her loving elsewhere. :P

(Tyranoth) Tyranoth pulls greened hide close, wrapping his own darkened hide about the one so light. Triumphant bugle escapes the throat before he closes off sound to revel in the sounds within.

(Tyranoth) Adrith spirals downward, missing Sidereth and the rest of the pack entirely, unfortunately.

L'ren stumbles to his knees. "Must... get out." Eyes squeezed shut, he staggers from the room.

(Tyranoth) Sidereth can't say much for this being caught business, but if it happens, it happens. And so the green succumbs to her clutchbrother. Thank you, please drive thru.

L'ren strolls into Lower Caverns.

K'mra stalks away, exultingly confused. But she'll manage to find someone to her liking, if L'ria's not avaliable.