Fire and Ice?, Barioleth's Flight!

[Firewing]

It was twilight time in Misuri Weyr, the sky a fading purpley color, not quite the dark of night but not light enough to be the day time. It was the time of day where you transitioned to the night time, and many people began to think of the day they had held and how they would love to settle down into their beds in a few hours and get a good amount of sleep in before the next day came and they were once again called to their various jobs about the Weyr. It was a very calm time of day, or at least it normall was.

Matara was one of those people who was heading back to her weyr to clean up the mess that it had been becoming in the days where she had not managed to clean it. She wanted to make sure that the mess did not build up too much or she would certainly have problems coming around to cleaning it later on. Barioleth was asleep on her couch in the weyr, soundly.

That was until the Amber-White dragoness snapped awake rather uncerimoniously. Her eyes were whirling red before settling into a deep shade of purple. It was the color of a mating dragoness' eyes. She gave a feral sounding screech as she bounded out to her ledge, jumping off of it and making her way down to the Feeding Grounds, screeching again, breaking the calm of the Weyr.

Matara ran to the ledge of the weyr, watching in shock as her dragoness and bonded partner flew off and away to the Feeding Grounds. She stayed in her weyr, too stunned to move as the dragoness screeched and writhed midair before attacking a buck and bringing it down rather forcefully.

B..blood it! Matara called, her voice frail and nervous.
NEVER!! the dragoness, Iole at the moment, screeched mentally in response, her tones cold and fierce, sending her bonded reeling as she started to eat the meat.
NO! Blood it! Matara shouted mentally, asserting more force.
Fine... the voice of Bar responded, and submitted to drinking the blood of the herdbeast.

The dragoness bled two more herdbeasts, each a fight and a changing personality between the two minds that seemed to inhabit Barioleth's body. It was certainly going to be an interesting flight.....

Barioleth gave another loud shriek, calling all males to dare and try and catch her in this game of fire and ice. The fiery and fierce Iole and the calm and timid Bar.

Matara had grown weak in the knees at the prospect of the flight, and was watching the dragoness as she waited for the males to come and chase her. She was certainly going to have to keep a rein on this flight...
And what came after scared her to death.

[Khaliall]

((So, I shouldn't be entering given that I'm going away, but I really wanted to. So...here I am. I knw I don't have a chance but it at least gives one more chaser))

G'wain was drowsing in the evening at Misuri Weyr. The young Dragonrider had been out flying patrols, and was grateful to be back home.
More than grateful, really. Solitude was all very well--in fact, he had come to find that he preferred it to being with people. He had difficulties communicating with anyone, and being in the presence of females made him turn red and stammer. Still. He'd hoped that being a Rider would change that, but he was as awkward as ever.
Here, in his weyr, he was safe. He could deal with people when he had to, but flying patrols with no one but his dragon, and now relaxing here, was where he preferred to be.

His twilight relaxings were doomed to be interrupted, however, when he heard the shriek of a mating female.
G'wain kept his eyes stubbornly half-lidded, leaning back in his chair and putting his boots up.
Ah, the noises of a weyr. He saw no reason why this flight would bother him. Shell Nazareth had never chased a dragoness before. G'wain had expected that the introverted Shell never would.
He was to discover otherwise.

On the ledge, the dragon lifted his head, tilting it to listen intently as the Amber-White dragoness swooped on a buck.
She is very elegant he remarked.
G'wain heard something in that voice that he'd never heard before.
His eyes flew open in alarm.
"Naz?" he asked suspiciously. "What are you thinking?"
I am going to chase her he declared matter of factly after a moment's consideration.
G'wain was pretty sure that that was not how it usually worked.
However, Nazareth apparently did not care, for he proceeded to launch himself off of the ledge and soar down to the feeding paddocks, where he perched on a nearby ledge--waiting. Watching. Crooning to both minds in that one body.
G'wain, muttering and twisting his hands in agitation, hurried after him.
Nazareth was young--inexperienced--a small dragon. Surely he would not catch her.
He really hoped he would not catch her.

[Silver Spyglass]

OoC: Please tell me Khali has a chance or someone else is joining because then Dilolth won’t be the only valid chaser... If it does come to that I completely understand if you caught an NPC or something so that Dilolth doesn’t win by default; it's not really fair.

The glow had burnt low in C’yton’s weyr by the time he finally returned. The evening had been spent raking through his hair and sometimes pulling it out as he waited-patiently of course-for a message that was to be transported back to the Weyr. You’d think that when someone asked you to wait a few minutes they would warn you if they were going to be long minutes.

He vaguely looked around the room, cursed when he realized he had left a glow running unattended, and sat down on the bed to pull off his boots. As it was, he sat down on some clothing that needed washing. His room was not very clean; there was a shirt that he had thrown off last night and tossed to the side that had draped itself across a dead glow, the floor was literally covered with junk, and he was sure that there were a few plates and bowls that had been sitting around for a couple sevendays. He wouldn’t have it any other way though he made a mental note to get around to taking the dining implements back to the lower caverns by the end of the current sevenday.

Dilolth was out on the ledge, most likely watching the weyrfolk down by the lake or the dragons at the feeding pen while he caught the last few rays of the sun. He heard a dragon bellow and wondered briefly what was going on as he shucked off his last boot and flopped onto the bed.
The Amber-White dragoness is rising, the copper relayed lazily to his rider though C’yton could hear the faint excitement of a prospective flight in the tone. C’yton let out an exasperated groan, knowing full well that his dragon intended to chase. He always did.
It’s time to sleep he said, trying to reason with his dragon. Dilolth wasn’t listening; he was winging his way down to the sands to join the gathering males for the chase.

C’yton whimpered, feeling much abused, and stood up wearily. His head began to spin as he became infected with his dragon’s urgency. He looked down at his shirt and sighed. He had been sitting in the hot sun of the courtyard for an hour and his shirt was not very fresh. He grabbed one that he hoped was better; the glow was put out after all, and began to run. He risked switching shirts while running, startling a group of women who were making their way through the corridors. He couldn’t help but laugh and flash a smile at them.

He was still smirking by the time he reached the feeding pens but anxiety quickly sobered him up. He and his dragon stood ready though one less willing than then other.

[Firewing]

Two dragons? Only two Chasers? The Amber-White gave a rather disgruntled bugle at the poor turnout for her flight at the moment. Hopefully someone else would join the flight... Bar was perfectly fine with said turnout, and was ready to take off and fly into the skies to begin the flight..... However, Iole needed some convincing that this was really the turnout she wanted. She wanted more males, and so she let out another loud shriek, echoing off the sides of the Weyrbowl. Hopefully it would call more to her and get more dragons involved in her maiden flight. Bar was not pleased with this, and it would get significantly quieter when she was in mind. She seemed to be rather interesting as she readied herself to fly.... With her writhing to being perfectly still.

Barioleth let out one more loud shriek, wings flaring open suddenly like firebursts, white and amber mingling and giving it a fiery appearance. She pumped them heavily, springing off the ground lithely into the air. Her wings pumped furiously, gaining her more air as she climbed skyward. It was time to take this flight to the air! She crooned enticingly to the males who had chosen to follow her into the skies. Hopefully they would be worth all the effort this flight would put her through.

The dragoness continued onwards in her flight, not paying mind to the dragons following her as an unknown internal struggle continued onwards. It was rather odd, and one might have thought the dragon did not know how to fly quite right. One moment, she was spiralling through the air in complex manuevers, crowing her superiority boisterously. The next moment, she was flying rather mellowly, crooning and waiting for the males to follow.

Matara had been completely enveloped in the strange mental battle, her face frozen in a terrified expression as the flight continued onward. Thank Faranth she was not aware of the two men in her Weyr...

[Silver Spyglass]

OoC: Sorry it's taken so long!

Dilolth lifted the front half of his body and fanned his wings as he bugled in reply to Iole's call. His front feet hit the ground with a thud went he was done, ready to spring into action. His tail was swishing in anticipation like that of a feline. All he wanted was to spring into the air and soar, it was one of the few things he truely delighted in in life.

And suddenly the amber-white lifted off and shot into the air. A moment later, he was after her, cutting loose. He wasn't nearly as fast as she was-that was to be expected-but his wide wings carried him at speeds that exillerated both him and the human that was connected to him. It was foolish to be expending so much energy all at once, especially since it was at the beginning of the flight, but the few moments of sheer indulgence and delight were priceless.

Dilolth twirled a few times and did a loop, then pumped his wings faster to catch up. With that out of his system, he focused on the task at hand. He was chasing this amber-white stranger and he was going to win. There was no question, it was just a fact to him. As if anyone else had his speed or power. The dragon bugled in humor and then that bugled faded into a croon directed at the lovely dragoness he was chasing. She was acting a bit strange though... This got his attention and he calmed down a little bit, trying to figure out what was going on.

[Khaliall]

((Spyglass has given me the boost I needed to post ^^))

Nazareth was oblivious to the apparent difference in the dragoness as both personalities vied for control of her. He sat patiently, waiting in quiet, reserved as ever, as he waited for her to spring airborne. He did not want to waste any unnecessary energy in fanfare as he waited.
He was a practical dragon, for the most part, and he spent his time studying the dragoness, admiring the play of light across her amber hide, and her elegance. He liked the contrast with her amber hide and the twilight sky. Or the blend. He wasn't quite sure.
He might have forgotten his purpose in watching her, but then she sprang into the sky with a shriek, lithe form taught with the muscles required to launch her airborne.

The Shell narrowed his eyes, and with the same quietness that had characterised his waiting, he too launched himself into the sky in her wake.
He did not proclaim himself, though for a moment, he wanted to. He simply focused all of his attention on Her, for she was all that mattered just then. The pleasure of flying was nearly forgotten, though he enjoyed as much as any dragon the lift beneath his wings as he soared through the sky.
He did not try to copy her complicated maneuvers. When she did them, that was. He simply followed faithfully, quietly, gaze never wavering.

Her strange, erratic behavior did not worry him. After puzzling over it for a moment, he simply decided that that was how she was, and he should not question.
His rider, rather terrified to put it bluntly, was not happy. But neither did he notice what was going on above his head, though he had joined in mind with his beloved dragon. The sky seemed limitless--but his attention, as Nazareth, was concentrated. The object of that concentration crooned mellowly, and he pumped his wings steadily. He sought only to follow, not to woo.