Welcome Party|Yay! {OPEN}

[Lyrikitty]

Rukbat peered over the horizon, golden rays spilling across the land and lighting apon the bowl of a just-waking Weyr. The sky was painted an array of colors, the clouds taking soft pastel hues. The watchdragon gave a sleepy yawn, her watch was nearly up, and though her rider was dozing lightly, she dared not wake her. Just as sleepy eyes trheatened to dift shut, above the Weyr appeared a form, among the largest of colors on Pern.

Cold air gushed out as the pair appeared form Between, one small rider, one lrge dragon. Kisa's long, thick ebon tresses were let loose, for the wind had not been a large concern, and the hour was early still. Her pale skin was reddened at the ckeeks from the chill of Between though otherwise she seemed eager, lively. Her eyes danced as she looked down on Talune, spotting the watchdragon before it spotted them, and leaning foward against Silvyth's rosy-gold neckridges. /My love? Why don't we give them a wake-up call? Let everyone know we're here?/ She bespoke her dragon fondly, smiling as she did, and sitting back up to look about as wind from the powerful wings rushed over her.

//Ah... I do like that idea MineLove. How loud shall I be? Enough to wake even New Cove from here perhaps?//[/color] The devious hint of mischeif in the voice of the Snow was evident, and as the great queen turned her head to look over her shoulder at her diminutive rider, her eyes sparkled with troublesome plans.

/Why, I think that Xyurith is still sleeping. Yes, lets see if you and your big mouth can wake even him./ A challenge, of course, and even as the words reached the Snow, the great jaws parted, air rushing into her lungs and filling them, only to be expelled forcefully in a powerful, bellowing bugle of greeting, announcing herself to the Weyr in the most obvious of ways, and ensuring that not a soul would remain asleep below them at all. As her vocal cry died out, the snow began her descent, finally speaking to the now startled, and almost terrifed watchdragon peaceably. //Ah, no fear little Green. I am Silvyth, of New Cove, come for an over-due visit. Announce me, would you?// She rumbled deviously as her bulk reached the ground, one paw at a time, her claws digging in to the soft dirt. Kisa swung her small frame over the dragon's neck, landing in a crouch at her side, and then rse to look about, her gaze settling proudly on her dragon.

A magnificint creature, to say the least. Her white body was glossy, and had been oiled only recently, her black paws and tail a stark contrast to the pale color. The pinkish gold head turned, muzzle lowering to poke at the smallish riderplayfully, darker hued neck arching in the movement. Deep gold wings were folded delicatly to the bodice, and the whole of the creature lowered to the ground, lounging pleasently in the grass as if she were the queen of this Weyr, not just a visitor.

While Kisa looked over the Snow, Silvyth was doing very much the same to her rider, blowing hair out of the dlicate face gently so as to see better. An attractive human she was, a lovely face, delicate of feature, pale of skin, and hair that seemed almost out of place in it's rich shade. Short, but the Snow always founf it amusing to taunt her rider on the difference in height, playfully reminding her that if the Snow were not careful, Kisa could be inhaled on accident. Perhaps a bit of an exaggeration, but it was still just as amusing to Silvyth. Kisa wore a pale blue tunic, and a pair of dark breeches, with soft hide boots and a thick belt. Mentally Silvyth questioned the appropriateness of this attire, for a visit to another Weyr, but said nothing to Kisa, instead deciding that things would be more amusing otherwise. As she waited for someone to come and talk to them, the Snow tilted her head up, closing her eyes slowly and soaking up the morning, while Kisa shook her head and settled herself on one large forelimb, leaning against the broad chest comfortably and inhaling the scent of the Snow.



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[Onyxaeon]

An endless sea stretched out before his eyes, those silken shores that he had grown so fond of over the years were perpetually being devoured by the tide as it drifted in from a few hours of respite. A spare few marine creatures, some of thick, sturdy encasements and others beached and scaled fish, struggled to return to their previous home among the turbulent waves, though their efforts fell upon a distant observer. He was not truly there, one might say, his thoughts lost in some far off abyss that was known only to the dreamers. What he was thinking exactly was a matter that stemmed from countless origins, though it never did hold true to a single meaning. Many if not all of those living on Pern had at once sat, pondering as he was currently upon this great mystery, though none had ever done so so vividly and in their dreams. A soft, imaginary wind caressed his cheek, the setting sun gliding across the waters as though it were ice and the refraction of such vibrant hues was blinding for a bold moment before a deafening bugle resounded in his ears. The sensitive organs rang, screaming a series of foul curses before the creature could be identified, and all resentment dulled like a knife too long in use.

After all, how could one show an ounce of anger toward their very soul?

An ebony mass could be seen stretched beside D'ron's own collection of furs, the creature easily able, it was noted, to crush the very human with which he roomed, though no such tragedy would ever have the chance to be birthed into action. An entirely feline roll of powerfully constructed shoulders was the first demonstration of effortless might the beast gave as he awoke from what could have been an ageless slumber. The unfurling of massive onyx wings, so carefully pivoting so that nothing in the room was destroyed beneath their weight, followed suit, and the four great pillars for which he stood upon heaved the bulk into a righted position as the behemoth Varanth made his way out to the ledge of the weyr.

Even the Weyrleader's weyr did not harbor enough space for his mass, and so it was with further obvious disdain for being roused in the beginning of dawn that orange pools skimmed harshly over the Weyrbowl. His eyes first connected with the Green standing respectfully at her post, her attention diverting his own to the stunning creature resting in the heart of the Weyr below him. As memories clouded over his optics and realization dawned upon his irritated facade, the shade of his irises calmed their rampant rebellion, and his patience began to stir as he glanced on at the Snow and rider seated so comfortably inside his Weyr with barely an announcement to make their presence known.

It seems the dawn has brought with us visitors, Mine. Shall I wait for you to ready yourself or go and greet them now as I stand? His steel gaze never wavered from the pair below him on the simple earth, his talons clicking together in perfect sync as he mulled over the purpose of such an early and ill planned visitation.

I need only a moment and we may go and see to their...odd morning needs. Who has come? The rider had raised himself up to speak with his bonded, the light covering of the animal furs doing nothing in the way of concealing the tanned sinews that life of the Southern Continent produced. A lazy flex of muscle had allowed him to clamber out from beneath the warmth of the skins as he wandered into an adjoining room, the faint ruffling of drawers echoing in the empty stillness of the air.

A Snow and her rider. I recall nothing in the ways of a name, but the rider has a fair face, and the lovely Snow is of great size. I would remember such faces so, unless time has worn my memory, they are new to the both of us. The Onyx offered a brief and curt lift of his wedged skull to the other rider and dragon pair, his fist indication that indeed he had discovered their presence and was waiting to act upon it.

A Snow? What in the name of Faranth is one doing here of all places? Several minutes elapsed before the Weyrleader had wandered from the other room, his body newly adorned in comfortable riding clothes. Upon his torso hung a tunic as black as the abyss of between, the fabric clinging to his broad chest. It parted in a very small v-cut at the base of his throat, the mark a token of hard labor rather than time. Moving down to his waist lay the thick rider's belt, a recently polished belt-knife resting faithfully at his left hip. It served no further purpose other than to hold various knots establishing his rank among the Weyrfolk and that simple knife, because the equally ebony beeches that molded to his thighs needed no support to remain in place. Lastly, to complement the rest of the dark attire, weyrhide boots, freshly polished as well, covered his feet. All in all, it was an aura of power he emitted, though he neither used it nor sought for such an opinion to be first made of himself. It quite frankly could not be helped: that was just the man he was.

As the Weyrleader positioned himself upon the Onyx's back-no saddle had been strung about his neck for the descent was such a brief one it would only be a nuisance-Varanth took only enough time to know that His was seated appropriately before his body tensed, muscles rolling into a stance brought about by turns of practice. The velvety soft flesh of his belly brushed the soil momentarily before he lurched forward, a crack of wind sounding as, just as he had jumped, his wings extended to stop the two of them from crashing into the unholy soil. He landed with a dull thud, the puff of dust clouding about his body as his Mine descended and strode toward the other two.

As the dust settled, Varanth, too, took the moment to come and greet the visitors, though his only welcome shone in his eyes for words were wasted when they could not find ground with which to stand upon. Indeed, the Snow had befuddled his current thought process.

"Welcome to Talune. I am the Weyrleader here, D'ron, and this is Varanth. To what do I owe this visit?"

[Lyrikitty]

It was Kisa who watched as the Onyx king of the Weyr appeared apon his ledge, and it was only the rider who noted the small nod they were given. He seemed to have only just woken, though it wasn't a suprise. Smiling, she kept her cerulean gaze on the beast, waiting for his rider to appear as well, and giving Silvyth a nudge. /Dearheart, the weyrking has seen us and I don't think he looks thrilled. You asked that Green to announce us, yes?/ As she spoke to the dragon she turned her gaze to the watchpost, and the Green positioned there, now standing alertly, no image of sleepiness on her facade. Well, if nothing else they had woken her and her rider before trouble could be cause.

//Yes. She may have been a little frightened though, we weren't cheduled to drop in after all, and it is a bit early for most.// The Snow yawned, her jaws parting wide until Kisa once more gave motion that they were being watched. As her maw shut, lips falling over her sharp daggers, she lifted her gaze to watch the descent of the Onyx. //He is no Xyurith.//[/color] The simple, obvious statement brought a laugh from Kisa's own ruby lips, and she lifted a hand to cover her mouth as Onyx and rider drew within range, and finally spoke. She had no need for a critical eye, and in fact rarely had one anyways, but rather nodded slightly, and listened. She was right then, this was the Weyrleader and his dragon, a perfect chance to get to know them then, not that it made any sense at all for her to be there. /I know that silly, now look pretty and speak kindly, it won't do for you to taunt them and get this Weyr angry with New Cove. Unles.../ Kisa looked up at the Snow breifly, and had to refrain from another fit of laughter at the Snow. /Alright then. If you really want to, fine./

Finally, the Onyx and his rider were close enough for Kisa to speak up, and she slide gracefully off Silvyth's forelimb, stretched as her booted feet hit the soft ground almost remorsely. Silvyth was a comfortable perch, and it was rare that the pair had time to spend doing nothing at all but lounging with eachother in the sun. They would have to find another opportunity to do so, the young rider noted. "Good morning then to you D'ron, and to you Varanth. I must say it's been awhile since I was close to an Onyx."[/b] She flashed a cheery smile, amiably looking from Varanth to D'ron and back again. As her gaze stilled on the weyrleader, she nodded to the Snow still lounging in peaceful repose behind her. "I am Kisa, rider of the Snow Silvyth. It occured to us this morning while I was in the bath that we'd not been to Talune before, and Silvyth was determined that we head out as quickly as possible."[/b] Silvyth gave a soft rumble, dipping her head low to place the tip of her wedge-shapped head against her rider's back.

//Greeting Varanth. I am Silvyth, bonded to Kisa of New Cove Weyr. Forgive mine for the ommitance of that, she is not so awake as myself yet. Did I wake you?// She looked at the Onyx calmly, almost serenely, though mentally she was teasing Kisa lovingly. //Silly. is it really fair of you not to tell them we are of New Cove? Perhaps they do not need to know that I am a queen, but to where we reside does no harm to any.//[/color] Impatiently, Silvyth lifted her head away from kisa, settling it to her paws and letting her faceted eyes observe the Onyx and his rider.

/Perhaps. Shall we call ourselves wingriders? Or are you so full of your mighty self you want to be a wingleader?/ Kisa glanced over her shoulder, to find that none of it seemed to bother the Snow. Hm... Her mind strayed for a moment, as she herself wasn't entirely sure why they were here, it had been mostly Silvyth's idea on the matter, Kisa simply indulged because it would give them a chance to get out of the Weyr and visit someone. What was Silvyth up to, for surely it couldn't be as simple as wanting to meet the Weyrleader of Talune? //Don't overthink, it gives me a headache to hear all that jumbled mess you have up there. We are here, Varanth and his are here. Talk to the weyrleader, and don't make fun of me.// The last was said almost sulkily, and Kisa shook her head, looking at Varanth and D'ron with much mroe interest than Silvyth showed. "If we woke you we apologize, but we've been up for what seems hours. Only because I didn't want to catch sick did we wait for my hair to dry." As it is made any difference, she ran a hand through her loose curls, detangling a few knots from the trip over. What did they think of Silvyth? Snows were native to New Cove, only birthing of Syamynth's lineage, so only Silvyth would produce another Snow. One or two had hatched on their sands, though hopes for queens were thrown askew, as they demanded firestone, where Sylvith had violently refused. It seemed that perhaps Silvyth was an odd one, perhaps she was the only to take rank of queen, but surely that wouldn't be. Give it time, Kisa reminded herself, they are a new color, and if indeed tey are so versatile, then they may be waiting for a better time. Kisa sensed that to this point, Silvtyh agreed. In the future there would be plenty of clutching Snows, and all hatched of her clutches, most likely with the Amber Xyurith as the sire. Most other King simply didn't suit the largish Snow, as she would dwarf a Bronze without fail, as well as many others. It seemed Snows were built for Ambers, intinctively Xyurith had been taken with her, and from the moment of hatching had followed her loyally.

With a small frown apon her delicate facade, Kisa pondered this, brought back to the moment as once more, Sylvith lightly touched her back. Right. She focused on the Onyx and rider, and as a slight breeze picked up, her dark hair danced over her pale face, veiling her saphire eyes with a dark curtain.



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[Onyxaeon]

((-Prods- When has a Snow ever seen Talune Sands? o.O I believe you're thinking of Opals.))

D'ron's lips set in a light frown, a slow sigh tumbling forth. How very...odd. Times were certainly different nowadays, but did that necessarily mean such an action, even done in polite and well-mannered intent, was to be accepted? As his mind mulled over this simply topic, his arms absently crossed over his chest, a silence passing over the group until he forcibly shoved the thoughts to the back of his mind, and a gruff response was bared. "'Tis fine. It was high time we rose in any case. You are more than welcome to accommodate yourselves for however brief your visit may be. Do have some klah and a tart or two from the Caverns; I believe they have been up for the greater portion of the early morning, so they will be fresh." His reassurance-certainly an odd one because most did not sound so...serious when speaking of greetings-was shortened when a thought reentered his mind, and his brows creased together in a mild form of what could be either judgment or suspicion. "Though, I do question the intention behind the random impulse to observe the Weyr. Nothing is done without thought, whether consciously on not."

The Weyrleader's attention had taken a turn toward his Onyx when his bonded had not answered the greeting-he never knew Varanth to be rude-and a slow ache had already begun to pool into the rider's body from the mental connection. He could taste it: there was a bitter resentment and painful sting to the truth of the air around them. Clearly, the Onyx had been disturbed but, was it best to comfort such a prideful creature when aid was a thing more rare than a flawless sea pearl?

It was a strange occurrence for irritation to seep into the pondering Onyx's gaze and, of the times it had occurred, it more often than not stemmed from one of the greatest incomprehensible bouts of annoyance. Not now, however, for this displeasure he was experiencing had nothing at all to do with the early hour of the day or the out-of-the-blue visit. It was a more discreet, personal wound that plagued him as he stood, silent and rigid as a marble wall, before the rider and her dragon. Pride allowed for a deep gash to slice into his heart as he now truly observed the Snow, formerly intent eyes departing in an abrupt haste that was out of character for Varanth. His composure teetered on the edge of shattering, a single, final thought viciously shoving him into that blind leap as it befell him that he must look utterly foolish and a pitiful representation of the Weyr. Why, she was almost a neck larger than he! And, to make matters of graver insult, his size was the token of the Weyr; none had exceeded it, or even dared to reach the length since Talune's first Gold. The shame stained his optics and bled over into his thoughts. For the first time in a long while, Varanth remained still as death.

Varanth, don't. You cannot possibly compare yourself to her, not when you know how things have changed over the years. Mutations are stronger than ever, and she is a result of that. Please, think of the distinct differences in your favor instead.

The Onyx's head whirled, the shade to his orbs tinging with a faint rimming of crimson as he gazed down upon his rider. Unsettled, his wings unfurled slightly, the tension coiling around his muscles and even his thoughts as it sounded as though he were forcing words from a tightly clenched jaw.

Of what matter is it?! Do you not see how this looks? Why, we don't even appear strong enough to be compared to the females of another Weyr! His words were laced with acid, the pain of his unseen wound the source. He was never harsh with his Mine. Never. And one visit had entirely crumbled a decade's worth of unity.

[Lyrikitty]

((Very likely, or I may have meant to place New Cove instead of Talune. *shrugs* I'm not always awake. Of, for longer posts such as these, you may want to consider size one font, like mine. Not as much scrolling.))

Utterly oblivious to the dicomfort around her, Silvyth let another yawn part her jaws, and her forepaws curled, the long claws digging into the soft, maleable earth contentedly. Her eyes slid shut, and even as her yawn was ceased she left them closed. One corner of her lips curved into a smirk. Yes, the sun here was absolutely wonderful, in fact she felt she could lay here for hours and not move an inch. However, as seconds passed and she was given no response, a mild irritation tinged her pleasure, and she cracked on eyes partially to peer at the Onyx. What ever was his problem? Scowling, she sighed and let it go, though she was curious about him now. From the looks, the beast was tense, and judging by the expressions on the faces of rider and dragon, there was a disagreement going on. Perhaps her wonderous aide would be of use? Before she could even form a single word, she was silenced by a single response from Kisa, listening in on the Snow. /No./ Silvyth frowned, opening both of her eyes to gaze at her small rider disdainfully. //Why not? Varanth seems upset by something, and if I caused it I would like to know.// Huffily she spoke, almost insulted that she would be told no, until she thought of the reasoning behind it. Alright, so for once Kisa was right. Her tail twitched, and she shrugged it off, cflosing her eyes again and tilting her head upwards to soak up Rukbat's rays. If she was needed she'd respond, but otherwise she'd simply bask.

Kisa watched the situation, disappointed that they hadn't been well received. Her hopes had been to form a friendliness between the two Weyrs, and it seemed that the Weyrleader and his Onyx were nearly opposed to such a thing, or rather... The Onyx was. Perhaps... Well perhaps he was insulted somehow? Kisa couldn't understand where, but by the scathing look he delivered, his eyes tinged with ruby hues, the beast was upset, and angry. The ssmall rider frowned at Silvyth, looking from the large Snow to the Onyx, and catching an idea of what may have caused the unease. "Silvyth, why don't you go for a swim? The coast wasn't far at all from here, or so it looked from above. I know how you love to swim."[/b] She spoke aloud, hoping that if Silvyth left then things would loosen up again. Her suggestion was received well enough, though the Snow seemed unhappy to leave Kisa alone, she trusted no one would be foolish enough to try and harm the rider.

With a snort, she heaved herself to her paws, spreading her wings slowly to check her spacing. Satisfied she had room enough to fly, she turned ehr head to Varanth, ignoring the look of warning from Kisa. //If I leve mine here, will you watch her for me, Onyx? I fear she tends to get into trouble, and she wants me to leave for the moment. I would feel better knowing she had your eyes on her.//[/b] She remained where she stood, wings ready to give a downward stroke, legs prepared to shove off of the sft ground, if Varanth gave a reasonable answer. Several reasons caused Silvyth to ask such a request, the first and foremost being that perhaps the Onyx would feel better in her presence, if she showed that she trusted the care of hers to him. Not something she wanted to do, but she knew it was pointless to argue with Kisa, and was sure that if she did they would simply leave. That was not something that the Snow was eager for, she was starting to like Talune, for it was sunny and warm, and the ground was soft and comfortable.

Kisa sighed, releived at Silvyth's words, for they were fairly diplomatic, comming from the young queen. Not that it had been announced that Silvyth was indeed a queen, for few Snows were willing to clutch, and more often than not they demanded firestone as soon as they were old enough to chew.It was easy enough to think that a Snow would be a flaming female, so far as anyoneknew Silvyth was the only one to clutch, and though she had clutched a few others, they were feircely against being queens. She wondered for a moment, what would happen if Silvyth were asked to take the position of Senior Queen. The Snow wasn't fond of the idea, in fact rather disliked it, though perhaps Xyurith would be happy about it, for then he would be a weyrking, and so N'nika the Weyrleader. Thinking about all of that would give Kisa a headache, and so she forced the thoughts away, instead looking with pride at the poise which the Snow held, ready to take off, but not letting a single muscle quiver as she watched for Varanth's response. Always, even after the three turns they had spent together, Kisa was awed by the size and power of her bonded dragon. That Silvyth had willingly chosen her astounded the woman, and many a night she would wake, laying in bed and stretching as far as she could to peer out and see if the Snow still rested peacefully in her couch. Of course, they had their unpleaentries, Silvyth would get an idea in her head and demand they go do something, today for example, and Kisa might not want to. Or Kisa would suggest a chore that needed done, and Silvyth would laugh and go to sleep. The worst of theirs had been over Xyurith, and it had been a frightening one at that.

When Silvyth was ready to Rise for the first time, she had known before she ever left the ground who she would choose, and the whole way, Kisa had fought it, refusing to accept N'nika as anything but a dear friend. Only after the flight was over, and she woke in the arms of her friend, did she realize that maybe, just maybe it hadn't been such a bad thing. Of course Silvyth had gloated, pleased with herself, and had tormented Kisa until she finally gave in to the snow and told her she was right, she'd been the wiser of the two. Embassasing as it had been, it had been made worse by the response she got, of the Snow delightfully relaying the message to every dragon in the Weyr. They got over it in time, and in a way it had helped bring them closer, bonded them and taught Kisa to trust and rely on Silvyth, if no one else. Fondly, she smiled, shaking her head. For so young a queen, the Snow was no fool, and had approached the situation at hand with some thought.



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[Onyxaeon]

Curse your pride! Forget size; it matters not. It does not win wars and it does not aid anything other than an ego. What of experience? You have turns of life over her she can not possibly ever hope to gain so that they may equal. Intelligence? I have no assumption she is daft-she does seem quite the opposite, actually-but she hasn't been crowned in Hall and Hold, let alone Weyr for brilliance. You cannot compare yourself to her, love. You are of greater girth in my eyes, and your pride does not deserve such a cruel stab. D'ron's hands had long since departed to his sides, the fingers itching to find something with which to occupy himself as he often went in search of when he himself was distressed. That would not work with Varanth, though. He was always the more patient, always the greater mind between the two, so the worthy Onyx finding himself so meek and small was absurd. Sure, the largest were remembered in stories and their tales told over to spark the hope in young weyrlings that they too may reach such a state, but it was the wiser of the bunch that sustained an immoral life in literature as well as by word of mouth. It was no secret; any small fragment of advice Varanth gave inside and out of his Weyr was passed on, and that would outlive the glory of body structure when age hindered one dearly to moving such a mass.

There was not a moment between his rider's sharp reprimand and the young female's acceptance of a swim, and despite the vast quantity of ideas and beliefs his mind was usually crowded with, the Onyx was at a standstill for what to say. His was right, that much he could agree to, but still. It was only the principle of the issue that now bothered the Onyx as he was once more the object of a holdup. He could not very well apologize-it was not as though the act were beneath him. he merely felt there no need especially since she had done the favor to knock his own feet out from under him twice now with the below the belt blow and the early rise-but her certainly would not stand to have his discomfort shed light upon. It was already ridiculous to have the thought in his own head much less his Mine's and now the other rider and dragon's. No, he was a king, and he would deal accordingly.

With all the countenance of a scorned wife debating whether or not to give her husband a second chance, Varanth's line of vision passed over from His to Kisa. She has done nothing, his mind reminded him stubbornly, she does not deserve the fury. Tame it, for her sake. Stance erect and respectful, Varanth's wings folded against his side as the bitter resentment and the numbing tension fled his sinews, the crimson tint of his eyes fading ever so much, though a look of slight discomfort could never be fully extinguished. After all, he was still too proud to admit all the things he saw in the Snow that he was not.

Stay, if you will. It is not through fault of your own, so do not trouble it with thought nor think as if you must leave to placate. She is in greater care under you than I, in any case, though no harm would befall her here on Talune soil.Spoken with a calm he most certainly did not feel, Varanth left much to be questioned, but did make the attempt to resolve his fix on size with the Snow. It was not often one came across such a pair, and he and His could not deny the Weyr needed such an approval when everything had turned to chaos around life on Pern.


((I apologize. My post was ridiculous. >.<))

[Lyrikitty]

They watched, ever patient, until finally Varanth spoke to Silvyth again. Perhaps not entirely comfortable, but not so bothered as he had been before. Exactly what had upset him was still unknown to Silvyth, for even with all her more advanced traits, she was slow to gather how she insulted others. Emotions were not her greatest subject, and the only creatures she fathomed to understand were Kisa and Xyurith, for they were each deeply connected to her, and they were open books. She dipped her head, arching her neck to touch her chin to her chest and settled back to the ground, her wings curling back to her sides and remaining there. If she was welcomed she would stay, despite Kisa urging her to go anyways. Lounging once more in the sun, she looked at Varanth curiously, despite his obvious displeasure, and the hint of rage, she was interested in him. She'd not met an Onyx before, and so was clueless as to their great pride, just as she didn't understand how he could be so upset with her. She'd done nothing, so far as she knew.

Kisa smiled, somewhat relieved that the tension was ebbing away, and looked at Silvyth from the corner of her eye. /Perhaps he would feel better if we announced that you were a queen? They are known in generally to grow larger than the rest./ The idea seemed odd to the Snow, but she gave a small shrug, knowing that whatever happened would happen, and for all the worrying in the world it wouldn't change. "I may have been somewhat off in my introduction. Silvyth and I are not just riders of New Cove, but rather, she is the Junior Queen there."[/b] Looking down at her feet, she sighed, trying to hide the embarrassed blush that stained her cheeks. It hadn't been wise to omit the fact at all, but she had done so, prompted by the mischief in the Snow's eyes.

Looking about again, though not exactly up at anyone, Kisa observed the Weyr as best she could, hoping to find something to draw the conversation away from herself and her dragon. Unfortunately it seemed little stood to comparison, and her gaze finally wandered back to D'ron. Looking up from under her sooty lashes, she searched his face for anything that might show warning signs of a temper. Just as she thought she might see something, her belly gave a growl, churning demandingly and reminding her that she hadn't eaten yet, and that she had been offered food. Shyly, she smiled, still not looking fully up. "Does the offer for klah and tarts still stand? We may have been up for awhile, but I never made it to our kitchens."[/b] Odd for her, one with an appetite that even Silvyth seemed unable to match, and one that rivaled the behemoth Xyurith. They had been in such a rush to get ready and leave that food had been the last thing on Kisa's mind.

Silvyth tilted her head slightly, looking at Kisa now rather than Varanth, and rumbled softly in amusement. Hers was so silly at times, and seemed to be forgetful of many things now that she depended on Silvyth. She was somewhat hungry as well, but manner forebode her from eating at other Weyrs, for her size alone made many nervous that she would deplete the stock. She could easily wait until they were back at New Cove. Acting once more on the whim she had this morning, she rolled to her side, rubbing against the soft ground happily, much as a runner might. She was young indeed, and prone to odd things that a creature such as Varanth would likely find either repulsive or hilarious. The Snow didn't care either way, she only knew that the ground felt wonderful on an itchy shoulder, and Kisa was occupied with the man. /D'ron, dear. His name is D'ron, and would you get up you silly flit? You'll make them regret our presence more than they already do./ Watching the Snow was hard, or when you were trying to keep a straight face it was, and Silvyth's reply only made it harder.

//Your hands are smaller.// As if that reply made any sense at all, though it seemed to be perfectly understandable to Silvyth. With a huff, she settled back onto her belly, one side thoroughly dirty, the white smeared with dirt and small chunks of grass. Apon her maw was a contented smile, and she passivly allowed her wings to relax, the tips settling against the ground. Undoubtably she was pleased with herself, and not at all concerned about the others.



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[Epic Squid of Legend]

Xyurith was the one who woke first, who woke the slumbering N'nika. He acted as if he had heard Silvyth's wake-up call to Talune. He picked up his head, just his head, and looked through the window into N'nika's and Kisa's shared Weyr. ~They just woke up Talune, and now it's time we go and say hello to that Weyr as well.~ he rumbled to his Rider, his eyes whirling a soft green mixed with yellow of anxiety. He wanted to leave, and he wanted to leave now. His Rider wasn't getting up quickly enough to suit him.

N'nika grumbled, rolling over in her furs and trying to go back to sleep, "lemme 'lone!" she muttered, pulling the furs over her face to block out the rising sun. Sure, she was Weyrsecond, but it didn't mean she /had/ to get up with the sun! She was awake now, though, so why not get up? Because it was too d**n early, that's why!

He rose off his couch, spreading his wings slightly and wafting a massive draft into the weyr, ~Come now, Mine, Kisa is at Talune. Don't you want to go and see her?~ he pushed, his voice almost tantalizingly soft. He gave a small draconic smile as N'nika nearly leapt from bed, clothed only in her night-things, and tromped over to her clothes-box to root for something presentable.

Xyurith watched as his beloved Rider threw on whatever she could reach, tripping over the half-thrown clothes to get to her boots, cursing the stone she walked on- "Shells! Sharding clothes! go back in your box where you belong!" she would yell before grabbing her boots and pulling them on. "Where's my threading vest?!" she worried, moving through the curtained doorway and to the vest-pegs in the dragons' weyr. She threw more clothes, coming to her own, thick, sleeve-less vest. She drug it over her arms, planting it in place and picking at the Rider's Knots placed on the left shoulder before grabbing Xyurith's own saddle and motioning for him to stand.

~Maybe I don't want to come now?~ he mocked, but got up anyway. He knelt at the edge of their weyr, perched so high above the cove, and allowed his Rider to fasten the saddle around his chest and forlegs. He then stood, offering her his foreleg, bending it in a way to make it easier for her to vault onto his back (it was very high up there, you see). Once she had climbed onto his foreleg he looked at her with amusement showing on his large, draconic face. He rumbled his laughter at the comparably small human trying to find a good handhold on his flawless hide. ~Having trouble, Mine? ~ he asked, sarcastic worry showing strongly. He only gave a small rumbling laugh as she shot him a dirty, /leave me be/, look. Xyurith sighed, turning his head back around and almost just /laying/ on the weyrledge, ~How’s that, then? Can you manage to climb up me now? ~ another dirty look, but N’nika made it up just fine. Such a horribly long climb, up that dragon’s back. How she was able to do it multiple times a day, every day was a wonder.
N’nika finally seated herself in the saddle placed securely between the last neck-ridge and her dragon’s massive pair of wings. She strapped herself in; using slightly worn straps… she really needed to get new ones. Maybe she’d see how the next Gathers’ wears looked. Or maybe she could pull rank and commission a set from the Tanner. She could use the same metal buckles, make it cheaper, but perhaps some shiny and new gather-set? Yes, yes, there we go! Something pretty to look good during the Games. She was, after all, Weyrsecond, so had to look her best. On that thought… maybe she’d get something pretty for Kisa. Seeing her all dressed up and done up made this woman very happy, and would make her happier still if Kisa was wearing, say, a fine necklace N’nika had commissioned a smith to make? Ooooh, yes! Perhaps a new dress… a brilliant white with black trim and pinkish-gold inlay?
~Won’t that get expensive? All this finery you’re planning on giving Kisa-yours? ~ Xyurith punched in, somehow having managed to grasp the idea of expense and money. He didn’t understand the reason behind it, but he did understand the /idea/ of it.
//Shush and let me dream. C’mon, lug, let’s get to the skies! // she exclaimed mentally, patting his massive shoulder with a hastily-gloved hand. She had somehow managed to get the gloves on the opposite hands… and they were thus up-side-down… such was her hurry. Oh, but these dreams weren’t just dreams, she had been saving up her marks for such an occasion. Hopefully some Hold would be hosting a Gather soon, that way she could have a chance to gift Kisa with what Xyurith called ‘finery’. She had been planning with the Headwoman and Seamstress of New Cove, along with a local smithy in Zarjax Hold. Perhaps… perhaps they could be an espousal gift… But… wasn’t Silvyth due to Rise again anytime? The Weyrlings from her last Hatching were getting ready to graduate to Senior Weyrlings. Actually, that needed to happen sometime soon. She’d have to take it up with the Weyrleader… much good it’d do. She hadn’t seen hide-nor-hair of the man recently. No meetings, no conferences, no nothing! And since they didn’t have a proper Weyrwoman yet, she’d have to wait.
Xyurith launched himself from the weyrledge, spreading his massive wings once he was clear. Up, down- one, two great lurches, and they were sky born. //Up, forever up! // commanded the Weyrsecond, pointing into the sky with one hand while the other sought Xyurith’s neck ridge to steady herself. Xyurith obeyed, or rather-complied, and up they went. At a suitable height, N’nika searched her brain for the mental-map of Talune Weyr. Finding it, she sent it to her beloved Amber, who fastened it in his own mind. Then, yes! The signal, the signal to go /between/. And there he went.

[Onyxaeon]

That faint flickering of suspicion rose again in D'ron's ebony pools, temper non-existent as the Junior Weyrwoman lowered her gaze to that of her feet. Indeed, it had not been wise-quite rude, actually-to omit such an important fact that had stung his beloved Onyx's pride so deeply and, as far as he could tell, the great brute was still musing over it. Fair enough, he mused, two could play to that tune. As for a first impression, there is no reason for them to stay further, he commented to Varanth, that elongated neck turning to briefly meet his rider's attention before the dragon nodded something absent to the Green watchdragon, and she was replaced by a petite little Scarlet and her rider. I cannot ignore what has been said, and that is cause for me to respectfully bid them leave. Do you object?

His question fell upon the Onyx, a great heave of air sliding from a slightly parted maw as he considered this. What all stood in their way of remaining? First and foremost, a lie. Secondly, an unexpected, not to mention early, visitation. Lastly, a wounded pride that, as he saw it, meant nothing in their eyes. It was not so much the fact it had happened as it was a combination. Blow by blow, they had compacted salt into the wound, and it could not be denied that had made rather perfect fools of themselves. But, even terms must be met. They could not afford to have an entire Weyr against them, even though things had been set in motion for it to be so. With due cause, yes. The status quo must remain balanced no matter the issue. Feed them, and then they shall leave. We have more important matters at hand, in any case.

With this said, the two turned their attention back to glimpse the young Snow playing in the dirt, rolling about to, what it would appear, scratch an itch. No matter to reason, it was met with a first look of confusion and then a following hint of annoyance from the two equally. Could not they behave when they stood on foreign soil? "They offer still stands," D'ron commented lightly, his attention diverted from the two almost entirely, "although that is all I may offer for now. Both Varanth and I are required to attend to other things, as I am certain the both of you are." Varanth, ever so quite beside his rider, respectfully bid the Snow and her rider leave, guiding himself up to return to his weyr where he would wait until they left. He had no desire to linger in company that both bothered and ignored him.

"Introductions aside, you will have to forgive the both of us for your short stay. You are forgiven for the disturbance, but only because you are ignorant on the matter." D'ron had turned, his body moving with a fluid grace as he led them across the Weyrbowl and toward the Lower Caverns. The distinct smell of freshly backed tarts was wafting heavily from the entrance, coaxing D'ron and Kisa further inside, but the lovely Snow would have to remain out because of her girth. "Onyxes are known for their pride and, to thank your little omission, he thought her a mere lower female comparable to any Green. I cannot forgive that as he has, because it was reckless and, though he will not admit to it, truly hurt him. If your males are far larger, it would be wise to keep visitations to a minimum. You are indeed welcome here at Talune, just not to cause unneeded stress."

[Lyrikitty]

Sylvith watched somewhat disappointed that the Onyx left, for she was intrigued by him. Her orders were clear though, she was not welcome at the moment, and woefully, she looked at Kisa, having no need to voice her mind on the atmosphere around them. The rider knew well enough, and she gave a small nod to the Snow. Without a sound, the Snow shifted herself, rising and padding off to be as inconspicuous as possible, ready to leave as soon as Kisa called. Much though she found this Weyr delightful, she would have to work at making friends another time. The large Snow paused though, tilting her head to look up at the skies as if expecting something, or rather someone. Oh... She knew well what was about to happen, and her gut told her that if Varanth had been upset by her, he would be far worse with the arrival of her mate. Delighted as she would be to see the Amber, Sylvith forwned, searching for sign of him, if for no other reason than to know from where he would approach. Oh, she had so hoped that the Weyrs would get along, and it seemed she had made the situation tense, only to see things get worse... Unless... //Varanth? I give my apologies for my unannounced arrival, and I wish to warn you that my Xyurith is about to arrive, so that such a mistake will not be made again. Be warned, he is larger than even I...// She spoke cautiously, testing the waters of her words and her warning tenetively, for she had no real desire to bother the Onyx. Her eyes swirled slowly, the colors shifting from blues and greens to tinges of yellow as she fretted over the nearing arrival of the massive Amber.

Kisa nodded brightly, trying to make the best of things, and followed after D'ron, drawing the rich scents of cooking into her senses eagerly. Wonderful. Her belly gave another rumble, encouraged by the smells wafting to her, and she salivated at t he thought of a hot, fresh pastry, cooled just enough not to burn her mouth, and a steaming cup of klah, with just a pinch of sweetener. She did pause though as Sylvith seemed to grow concerned over something, glancing to the Snow curiously. /Love? What bothers you so? Has the Onyx said something? I'll swat his rider, I swear it./ While it was said jokingly, with intent only of brightening the mood of the young queen, it was ill received, much to Kisa's suprise. The Snow always enjoyed playful banter and mocking threats, a sort of game between them to tease eachother in such a manner. //No! My Xyurith will be here very soon, and I don't think the Onyx will be pleased at all. He was obviously insulted by me, how well do you think he'll react to an Amber in his Weyr?// That was enough to turn Kisa's mind from food, a hard task in itself. The dark-haired woman stopped fully and turned to stare across the bowl at the Snow who now paced a small circle, her gaze straying from the sky to the ground and back again. It was obvious to Kisa even without a mental bond that the Snow was uneasy and nervous, though she had every right to be. Just as Kisa should be. However, the junior weyrwoman frowned for a moment, and shook her head. If the Amber and N'nika were on their way, there was nothing that could be done. However, there was food to be had, and she was ravenous. With a sigh, Kisaturned away from the Snow, and back to following D'ron the last few steps to the kitchen, inhaling the wonderous aromas with a smile. She could never be unhappy around food, and not when it smelled so good. She quickly scooped a few pastrys from a tray, biting into one with a sigh of pelasure and glancing at D'ron, sure that she was making a fool of herself. Hastily she chewed and swallowed, an insult to the treat, and smiled sheepishly. "I'm terribly sorry. I'm ravenous and these are wonderful." She wrinkled her nose and nibbled at a pastry slower, trying not to get to enthusiastic about it.



Word Count: 760
Notes: By the way, Kisa is a pig when she gets the chance. XP Nothing motivates her like food.


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[Epic Squid of Legend]

(Go ahead and post, Onyx, I want to know what D'ron thinks of having an Amber visit his Weyr. I'll post after you, okay?)

[Onyxaeon]

((M'kay! ^^))

An Amber?! Varanth's temper had erupted, spewing forth like liquid fire from the endless bowels of a volcano long denied its release. How dare she? Was not the shame already etched in his contented facade enough? Did she enjoy ripping his heart from a wound torn by carrion birds and watching him having to devour it so that it was returned to its place?! His tail lashed out in an impossible fury, the sinewed mass colliding with a desk littered with skins and the timber splintered effortlessly. His pinions flared, pressing painfully up against the ceiling despite the fact it had been hollowed out to support a grand sized beast. He did not feel the green ichor sliding down one of his wings as a rough stone sliced the membrane along with the toned flesh, the dragon's blood dripping down his shoulder blades. Those almost perpetually green-blue orbs whirled to a violent shade of murderous crimson, his ivory talons digging into the cavern floor in an attempt to prevent himself from launching into the air and meet this Amber face to face. Dragons never fought unless the issue was mating, but this was an issue of pride. It was the only possible thing that could invoke such a cursed temper in one of Pern's gentlest creatures.

D'ron shook it off absently, his hand waving half distractedly. He been so focused on his Onyx's thoughts that he had barely heard the Snowrider, but even he-so in tune with his dragon and dearest companion-startled when the thundering roar reverberated through the Lower Caverns, the emptiness of the great halls increasing the sound to a painful degree to a point where he had to shield his ears. He could barely manage to pick through the tangled web of thoughts emitting from his Onyx to dis-concern what had angered him so but, once he had managed to find that catalyst, he whirled on the nearest source.

"An Amber? Are you daft?!" He exhaled an aggravated breath, his own irises robbed of any trance of contented brown flecks and turned to an abyss of ebony. A hand ran shakily through wavy black tresses, the Weyrleader moving out of the Lower Caverns and heading up to the Weyr Bowl. "As if slaughtering his pride was not enough with your Silvyth."

Varanth, stay in the weyr. I'll handle this one. D'ron rounded the final turn of the Cavern exit, coming up into the light as it spilled into the Weyr. He could see the Amber giant lowering in altitude, and it was a site comparable to see the hounds of hell unleashed.

Hurry, D'ron.

((Forgive the Writer's block. -Heads desk-))

[Epic Squid of Legend]

Ah, those agonizing moments spent /between/. It was horrifying, had always been and forever would be to the girl. But she knew what lie ahead- her Kisa, the beloved little female. This made the Weyrsecond smile slightly in the frozen blackness of /between/, lasting just long enough to make it out and above Talune... just in time to hear a bellow.

~That was no greeting...~ Xyurith mused, gliding about as he searched for a place suitable enough to land. His Rider's thought hit him, her dread at that bellow. What had happened? She surely wouldn't let him land before she knew! He rumbled lowly, giving a great sigh before reaching out to Silvyth ~Were you well received? Mine thinks we should leave... and I only just got here!~ He took a turn, angling down slightly towards the Weyrbowl. As N'nika saw what he was doing he got a sharp command to pull back up, a /do not land/ command. He growled lowly, displeased of being denied this one simple thing, but pulled up anyway and began to ascend towards the Weyrheights. No good there, the Heights were not big enough for him to land comfortably. So he plodded along in the sky, circling the Weyr and awaiting Silvyth's reply.

//Look, down in the bowl, I think it's the Weyrleader...// N'nika thought soberly, wondering how mad the guy would be at seeing her... them. The Weyrking of this Weyr was an Onyx, she knew that. She thought his name was Varanth, but couldn't be sure. But either way, she suddenly realized that her Amber must be much larger than their King ... what would that do to the Onyx? //Hail him, see if we're cleared to land... or even allowed to be here. I'd much rather go back- my bets are that that was the Onyx's bellow. What could he have to be so sharding mad about? Did /Silvyth/ do that to him?!//

~Calm down, Mine, we can state our apologies and then leave. I'd rather not have an enemy to New Cove, especially a Weyrleader.~ to N'nika, and then- ~Hello the Weyr!~, Xyurith greeted D'ron, unable to remember his name though N'nika had tried to drill it into his head previously.
~We apologize for our intrusion. N'nika-mine and I have come to collect Kisa-hers and my Silvyth. We are sorry for upsetting you, and so will leave immediately. Perhaps you can visit New Cove sometime, but it seems we are not welcome here.~ Xyurith put bluntly, causing N'nika to wince at his words.

//You didn't ask him if we could land...//

[Lyrikitty]

Sylvith's head snapped up as a furious roar rang into the bowl, the sound thundering throughout the Weyr. Her neck arched, and she growled softly, immediately lifting herself to her paws and searching with dangerous eyes for Kisa. Even as Xyurith appeared in the sky, hailing her first, and then reaching out to the Weyrleader, her mind focused solely on finding Hers. That was not a pleasant sound. Varanth, for the moment, was to be counted as a threat, obviously not to herself, but to Kisa, the small woman, who against a Green would stand in pale size, much less an Onyx. Knowing that her own concern would travel to both the Amber and her own rider, she was forced to respond to her mate, glancing quickly to the sky and shaking her head. //Go back. The Onyx is upset over my own size, and you will only insult him further. I shall gather Kisa and we shall leave as well, for if he harms her in a rage I'll slaughter this whole Weyr before I rest.// Where was Kisa? Surely food wasn't so great a concern that she was going to ignore the angry sounds of the Weyrking?

Thankfully, Kisa was not busy shoveling food down her throat, though she'd grabbed a pastry for the road, but rather, was trailing after D'ron debating the best approach she could take. /Love? What shall we do? I don't want to leave on poor terms.../ //YOU will come to ME now. The Onyx may not be a Cyan or a normal Amber, or even a Black, but right now he is not well in mind. Once I have you safely at my side, then you may think.// Kisa cringed at the order, but alas, Sylvith was right. Her direction changed, and she trotted to the side of the Snow, resting a soothing hand on her forelimb. //On.//[/color] With a sigh, Kisa started the treacherous journey to the neck of the Snow, a long ways up for so diminutive a rider. When finally she ws able to straddle the neck, clinging tightly to the ridge before her, the Snow extended her wings, giving her head a shake and letting loose a roar of her own.

A fearsome sound it was, for though her's was not to filled with rage and insult, the capacity of her lungs alone made for a powerful voice, and the indignation at their reception only added. The final blow to her, as kind and patient as she was, had been the reception of her matte. She'd warned the Onyx. Could he not have had the manners to at least keep his maw shut? Fuming silently, blocking ehr mind from now both Kisa and Xyurith, she gave ehr wings several strokes, the bloodflow quickening, before a more powerful downstroke, enough that with a small jump she was airborn. Her dark paws churned in the air for a moment, before stilling, only her pale wings moved, carrying her up, and above Talune.

Kisa was taken aback by the Snow's behavior, for in general it was hard to upset her, and this was the sort of actions that would be seen only when there was a large clutch on the sands, holding more than one or two queen eggs. As Kisa thought, she tried to worm through the Snow's defenses, hoping from some insight into her mind, some clue as to what had caused her to vocalize her mind the way she had. No response was given, not to Kisa alone at least, not with the mind. Sylvith parted her jaws again, and bellowed out a roar that was almost challenging, daring the Onyx to show himself, and demanding some sort of apology for her treatment. Their timing had been poor, but that was all she'd done wrong. The Snow had announced ehrself! Had been as polite as she could be, though her youth still affected her thinking at times. Kisa cringed, holding tighter to Sylvith and looking to N'nika and Xyurith with hopes of an answer.

Word Count: 719
Notes: Ah... A little short. Muse is trying to rebel on me.



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[Onyxaeon]

Apologize? Ha! What a laughable concept, especially considering she was the one at fault. She had come abruptly, she had insulted him by giving a horridly wrong introduction, she was the one who was visiting another Weyr and doing a damnable job of showing how rudely New Cove conducted itself. How dare she order him in his Weyr? His talons stabbed angrily into the cavern stone, carving deep furrows into the limestone that would never fade, no matter the time that elapsed. The green ichor that had rushed down his sides dried, scabbing over as his body carried his bulk at a painfully defiant pace: it was clear he saw no point to furthering the irate behavior, though, her youth had invoked it. For all her wit, she had not known what metaphorical can of worms she had opened, nor the possible enemy she could have just created because, who knew? Who honestly knew when his pride would mend and things would fall in to its former life?

All wounds do heal eventually, even those of spirit, because time will see to it. Resentment and mistrust may linger rebelliously, casting aside any chance of friendship, but, eventually, everything finds peace in some form of norm again. What had occurred was no different. Pride is something that is easily mended with words, but the mind does not recover so quickly from betrayal. It seethes, writhing in the perpetual conflicting thought of what is necessarily right and what is morally wrong. Common sense tells one to refuse such a person who had single handedly inflicted so much damage but, on the very same hand, the need for peace between Weyrs exists. What is best for one is not always right for another, or even any. That is the difference between the Onyx so perched in his rigid stance outside of his weyr: he knew these things, and his loyalty to his Weyr would eventually force compliance, but not today. Not after the dawn of something so mind numbingly cruel and malicious had been spewed from his maw.

Do not forget you are not on your own Sands: you have no claim to demand anything of me, much less what I do not owe. By all rights, you are at fault for all that you have invoked and the pieces will fall as they may. You have betrayed me through omission, a lie of rank, and then a further insult through inviting a parade into a Weyr not yet ready to receive such visitors. You shame Talune for such thoughtlessness and behavior. To treat a host so ill, even after words have been given in penance, is beyond unspeakable. I am no Green to be commanded about and used at your will: do not expect that I should bend to suit any task you so put forth or wish you so desire. Make no mistake of what you have done nor what you have allowed to befall yourself. I have no quarrel with New Cove, and Talune welcomes to any event we should host, but know my respect has crumbled to silken ash till it so be churned into roaring embers once more.

Below Varanth and on the ground, D'ron's link with his Onyx had entitled him to hearing the entire conversation between the two great creatures, and a persistent, constricting clamp began to squeeze mercilessly at his heart. Everything Varanth had spoken of was true, not a shred of detail left out of place, for he could very well see deep into the conscious of his dragon. He harbored no ill thoughts of the Snow, nor her Amber mate, but simply refused to look upon them now with the respect they, by right, should be given. As he had said, in his eyes, they had lost all their air that did make them a King and Queen, though not so much for the Amber, for he was not to blame. With a slow, gruff sigh, the Onyxrider ran a hand through wavy locks, his arm extending and then turning to the side in a manner familiar to all dragon riders despite where they may have come from: it was the sign to return home, usually given by Wingleaders to their Wings after patrol. His head shook in a slightly disappointed, regretful manner, eyes never wavering from the flying dragons above him.

One can hope that time shall see she has learned of this error, he commented absently to Varanth, and the Onyx only snorted in faint reply.