We Own It {Orikaeth Rises}

[Simile]

It was early - bright and early. The sun had only just come up, just touching the edge of the horizon. The sky was not quite as glorious as a rainbow. It was sunrise. It was nice. Nice and cool this morning. The air was heavy with humidity. It was sticky and gross and so not as glamorous as Sky Mountain. She missed her home. She wanted to go back sometimes.... but well, this place had its charms too. such as the rainbows out by the waterfalls.

She closed one lazy eye which swirled a myriad of colors at the moment. She looked up, a growl forming in her throat. The whirling eye turned red with rage, which Retny could feel, propelling her up out of her dream state and bolt upright in bed. She had the worst headache forming and it was forming quite quickly. She could feel her dragons rage - her own temper boiling with it.

I must feed.

With that, the dragoness launched herself from her ledge to the feeding ground, pouncing on the first herd beast, crushing it beneath her paws. That one wasn't any fun. She snapped it up, trying to devour it. Retny shot up, cursing at the top of her voice as she tried to latch control on to her dragoness. No you don't! she told the Rainbow who hissed and balked. You will blood only!

I'm hungry! Let me be!

She frowned. "No you aren't! Fly you stupid beast!" The rainbow snorted and bit into the beast below her, tossing it up, but Retny stopped her from gorging - in fact - she spit out the pieces that she had bit out of the carcass... but she bled it dry. She looked at those who were cowering from her and moved with the grace of a stalking predator towards them, watching them run with a barely concealed delight before she shoved her body forward with a quick movement, grabbing hold of a beast and shaking it to pieces before drinking down the blood, feeling it slide down her throat. It was, as bad as it sounded - sweet. She growled and pounced on another and another. She was makign quite hte mess of the pens now. Her hide was shining brightly - brighter than usual. She was a glimmer of rainbow colored hide.

One more. Just one more. Then she turned, roaring to the skies. She knew what it was she wanted now - what it is she needed. Her eyes took on the purple and red of flight. She was ready to rise. Come! All of you! Dance with me! Take the skies! The Day! The sun! Rule the day with me and rule the night! Prepare yourselves. This flight shall be long and hard!

She launched herself into the air then, flapping her wings hard, spiraling upward with a grace that must have seemed difficult for such a large rainbow dragon such as her. She roared challenge, turning to to hiss at the nearest challenger. He was too close to her at this stage in the game. Careful how you follow, darlings.

I never feared death or dying
I only fear never trying
I am whatever I am,
Only God can judge me, now I'm
One shot, everything rides on tonight
Even if I've got three strikes
I'mma go for it
This moment, we own it
And I'm not to be played with
Because it can get dangerous
See these people I ride with
This moment, we own it

[Shoki]

It was early. So early that R’le had only barely woke up. Quiorith wasn’t scheduled to be up for a while, so he could laze about in bed until he felt like getting food. He breathed out slowly and opened one eye, observing the Flame Firelizard sitting on his chest and staring at him.

“I’m not getting back to sleep, am I?” Burn stared at him all the more intently before opening his mouth and stepping forward, threatening to bite his nose. “I’m up!” R’le threw off the blanket, upsetting Burn, who hovered above the bed while R’le half fell, half rolled out of bed. The dark haired rider brushed out his hair with his fingers before yawning at getting out the dried meat he had in his room for this occasion. Burn quickly set about eating and R’le yawned before he suddenly grimaced. It was impossibly strong, the feeling of suddenly snapping from sleep to wide awake with zero intermediate feeling and a rush of desire. R’le knew what this was, but something about it felt off. Quiorith chased, fairly frequently, and usually his feelings weren’t so…solid? He didn’t understand what exactly was going on with how he was sinking down so quickly into Quiorith’s feelings, and he mentally tried to crawl up out of them for a breath of air, still trying to figure out what was going on.

Orikaeth! The last conscious, actual word that was not merely feeling hit R’le like a brick, a word that was only for R’le but had a heaviness that made him slip away, instantly consumed by Quiorith’s mind in a way that was impossible to be from the same dragon he knew.

Quiorith’s stretched his wings, watching from where he stood the Rainbow that challenged the Weyr. His eyes whirled intensely, and as per usual, he was silent. Cloudy day creature he was, he did not seem to belong in the morning hours when the sky did not match his hide. He watched, all the same silence when she roared and took to the air. The Cloud pushed off, making no roar, no sudden and impressive leap into the air. A little jump into the air and he seemed to float, a kite in the wind. It was almost like every other morning. He started easily, almost carelessly until the moment. The moment that he could not resist. That one second where normal flight was not enough and he needed the rush of speed. That moment came much sooner, but it wasn’t speed he was after. Today, speed was a means to an end. The Rainbow hide shimmered, and he silently opened his wings and dashed, aiming to catch up the time that he had lost with his slow start. He would do it, there was no doubt in his mind about that.

[Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro)]

The first words out of T'kar's mouth were, quite frankly, not fit to be repeated. It was doubtless an impressive vocabulary, but it still wasn't something to repeat.

"Shard it! We were going to practice the third-tier double bypass today!" He knew the feelings that had pulled him from the bed, hadn't needed Ancalanath's voice telling him that the day had just started, and with a vengeance. He also knew what the bugling roar meant, the roar that was immediately echoed, as Ancalanath declared his intention to chase for the world to hear.

Leaping into the air, Ancalanath bugled his answer to Orikaeth's challenge. If she wanted to fly, then so be it. He would fly beyond the bounds of this planet if necessary, and he, Ancalanath, would show her the way fancy flying was supposed to look.

A loud creel split the air, and T'kar looked up to see all three of his firelizards staring at him. Clearly, they felt that if he was up, he was able to feed them.

Queen dragons rule this world, that's for sure, he thought, clinging to his own mind, ignoring the flashes of beating wings, of the thrill of the chase and the desire for the dragoness at the lead.

Finally, he reached the kitchens, and was able to obtain a big bowl of scraps, which he promptly started feeding to the firelizards at record speed. Naturally, they kept trying to get into each other's piles, but once the edge of their hunger was taken off he was able to leave them with the food and make his way to Retny's weyr, already starting to see double.

Ancalanath flew, mighty wingbeats driving him through the air. Bugling again, he corkscrewed around, bringing himself into position to follow the shimmering Rainbow.

[Moo]

A great roar echoed over the Weyr Bowl. Mosiliath, who was perched on the Heights to sunbathe, listened to the Rainbow Queen scream her challenge. It sounded like a good promise: a long, arduous flight with equally challenging suitors. His eyes spun a myriad of colors. It sounded perfect. Emboldened by her words, he spread his wings and shifted his shoulders, preparing to take into the air after her.

Go, D’gan. Go. I am flying Orikaeth.

D’gan choked on the klah he was drinking and looked down at his white undershirt to see if he had stained it. Thankfully, he hadn't.

Another flight? I’m still trying to deal with what happened the last time!

Oh, save me from the stubbornness of riders! I don’t know what’s happened to you. Ever since we came here you’ve been like this. Well, I say no more. I’m going to chase Orikaeth and that’s that. Be at her rider’s weyr, or on your own head be it.

Wiping at his mouth, he set the half-empty cup down and began the journey to the weyrs.
Fine, fine, I’m going.

Glad to hear of it. It’ll be very good for you.

Mosiliath took a dive off the Heights and caught a slight updraft. In the dawning light, his orange-and-striped hide gave off a nice glow – he was secretly glad his rider had oiled him before the sun rose. His wings beat hard as he maneuvered with his tail and gained the proper altitude. A glance overhead brought the brilliant, multicolored Queen into view, and he rumbled a deep note in his chest as a greeting – and acceptance of her challenge.

He took stock of the other suitors and hummed with pleasure as he recognized Quiorith and Ancalanath. He remembered their performances from the last flight he was a part of; they were worthy opponents. And fast. He took full advantage of his large wings and stretched them to their fullest, catching what updrafts and eddies of wind he could to help him reserve his energy. It was still early in the game and he had no intention of being the first to burn out.

Meanwhile, D’gan found Retny’s weyr with surprising ease. Mosiliath’s vision was beginning to combine with his own – a feeling he would never quite get used to – and he wasn’t sure if he was glad he had gotten to the weyr so quickly or not. He entered into the room with care and selected a spot off to the side, as if he was afraid he would move and break something by accident. With a quick sigh, he looked to Retny and smoothed down his shirt. He felt, for lack of a better word – naked – without his riding gear on. Unpresentable.

(He also couldn’t help but worry that Yuki might appear and chastise him for avoiding meeting their daughter.)

But he didn’t want to let Mosiliath down. He took a deep, calming breath and settled his nerves as best as he could. Come what may, he was here now and was not about to insult the Junior Weyrwoman and leave in a flight-drunk stupor.

And, if he was being completely honest with himself, she wasn't hard on the eyes.

[Terayne]

Mine.

It was insistent, that voice niggling through his mind, and W'ren muttered in his sleep and turned over.

MINE!

Yelping, the rider sat bolt upright, looking around him swiftly, then turning his head to take note of his Tiger. The beast was agitated, that much was certain. He kept pacing back and forth, into, then out of the weyr.

The Queen Flies. You WILL attend to her rider. Having said what he was going to say, Farwith was gone, bolting from the ledge and into the sky, leaving his rider cursing him fervently. He had no idea where this "Queen's" rider even WAS! However, Farwith was finally trying for a Queen for the first time in his life, and W'ren wasn't about to insult either his dragon OR the rider of the Queen by not being present.

Farwith didn't bellow his acceptance to the swirling hued Queen. No, he snuck in like the predator he was, dark and silent, his stripes visible in the bright light against his much maligned hide. Wings pounded the air, taking the Tiger King straight to her rank of suitors, but still he remained silent. If he had learned anything in his Turns of just WATCHING Queenflights, silence meant holding onto stamina, not wasting precious breath and energy needed for the bolt at the end...

[Kaya]

Grumbling and hissing came from the senior Gold's weyr. A panicked Rilora skittered about, tripping over nothing as she tried to get dressed quickly. Archith had refused to leave the Weyr without her, and despite her offer to take them someplace secluded, Rilora had refused to go naked. Silly human.

They should be mine!

Trying to put on the second shoe with the first one only half on Rilora tripped and fell onto her shoulder on the tumble down. Archith, let it go.

NO. Whose idea was it to let her come here anyway?

Now almost dressed, her hair was still caught under her shirt and her shoes were still on wrong, Rilora picked herself up and wobbled over to her angry Gold's nose. "Stop. Let me get these shoes on, then we'll go. You promise you won't drop me without a harness?"

I should perish at the thought. came the cold remark.

Rilora opened her mouth, hurt, but couldn't find anything to say. She just pulled on her shoes with more force than necessary, which also hurt. "Let's just go," she announced, trying to get up on Archith who wasn't making things easy. She kept shifting and wouldn't lean right for her. "Just- FARANTH, Archith, let me up."

Archith snorted and tilted to let Rilora up. How frustrating. Couldn't she do it on her own?

"Stormy Plains, now. With any luck it'll be raining and cool you off."

Archith growled at the suggestion, left her weyr, rose to the top of the Bowl, mildly cautious at Rilora's insistence about being seen by Orikaeth.

I am stronger, faster and smarter than her! I am superior in every way. Why do you worry if she should challenge me?

Because, shardit all, you miss the point. This isn't about you, and this isn't about fighting. Now get between this instant or, or-

Rilora never got to finish her threat. The world went lightless, colder and, as she had not really hoped, in seconds burst into a rainy, cold, windy, storm above the Hold. They dropped low quickly and Rilora hoped bitterly that some shop was open and would give her shelter. She wasn't in any mood to see people of power at the moment. In dissonance with the thunder, Archith roared her frustration.

Today sucks.

[Simile]

She was the queen of the skies - a rainbow queen glorious and shining bright - her hide glinting like gemstones in multiple colors in the sun... and these were all that dared to accept her challenge? Were the others so fearful of that gold or was it the Abyss they waited on. She growled her displeasure, spiraling upwards and changing direction so that she was headed straight for a cloud above them. That would be a good place to hide as any.

{Tell me, Quiorith, Mosiliath, Ancalanath, Farwith! Are you the only brave dragons in this Weyr? Are the bronzes and crimsons too pathetic to give chase to something such as I? Or am I merely... unappetizing? Is it there loss? Should there be ichor spilled over their ignorance? I AM a queen! I am one worth chasing! Beautiful and terrible! And I will prove it. Come! This chase is far from over!} She roared again. It was good she did not see Archith, though at that moment she hated the gold and the abyss, Sunvoiath more than ever, firmly anchoring the blame on them for the small number of chasers that she had gathered. The kings of this Weyr were either intimidated by her or too loyal to be willing to chase.

An amusing notion considering that Archith's latest mate was one of her chasers. And a handsome one he was at that. Perhaps she would choose him. It would doubtless make her angry... but he had to earn it too. she would not simply choose. Quiorith was brave and different than the others. She had a particular eye for him. Mosiliath had experience and power. Farwith was smart. He may not have chased a queen before, but he interested her with his intelligence. Should he do well, perhaps it would be he that she would choose to fall to. Her rainbow wings stretched further and she beat the air hard, propelling herself upward more quickly. The cloud was coming close. She could feel water droplets hitting her hide. It was beautiful. The cloud soon swallowed her up for a short time before she emerged on the other side, heading for the next cloud, this one taller - it would take longer to get through it. She was watching and waiting. Anger and lust whirled within her as tornado.

On the ground, Retny saw those in her Weyr as flashes of hide and human as one. The tigers were distinct - though one was quite dark, the flame was nearly flickering with every beat of his wings. The Cloud who blended into her dragoness' supposed challenge so well. Her mind was reeling and she felt herself pulled away again, thinking but one thing - in the end they would win. And none would catch them before they were ready.

[Shoki]

Quiorith was gaining momentum as he followed the shining Queen up, toward the sky. She called out to them, attempting to divine the minds of other, less willing dragons. How was he to know? He was the ‘half-crazed storm flier’ according to one half of his current mind. The idea of refusing a challenge, not chasing a Queen? It was not for him to know. The idea that she was unworthy of chasing? Impossible! Was she not a Queen? A bright and shining dragoness? Dexterous and graceful was she. Quiorith refused to think of other dragons that hat not found themselves willing to chase. They were distant nothings in this moment.

R’le metaphorically tried to push his head above water for a breath of air. He could only barely gather where he was, that is, he had made it to the room where the other riders were waiting. Familiar faces, for the most part surrounded him. Though really the center of it all was obvious. It was impossible to think, there was no opportunity to have a moment to himself. After all, there was no true himself right now. He’d never really thought about it, but if he had been a little clearer in the head he might describe his feelings as being in the middle of storm clouds ready to loose lighting. He still couldn’t place where this sudden storm had come from. He didn’t quite remember that storms were usually the cause of two fronts coming together.

Quiorith hit the cloud, picking up the usual rush of moisture on his hide. He rose again, keeping his eyes on Orikaeth. Pushing through cloud again he felt light more and more energy being stored up within him, charging up his muscles and wings. He kept his same slowly increasing pace however. Chasing the Rainbow, moving through the clouds, he felt like he would be able to keep going forever. He was too well practiced to fall for this lie. So he saved up the storm inside and waited for when he would have need of the lighting.

[Moo]

Mosiliath minded his head as he found himself in a jostle of wings as the Rainbow Queen rose higher into the clouds. He didn’t need to hear her to pick up on her anger – her incensement radiated off of her body in waves, so strong was her craving to be the best, the brightest, the most feared, the most loved.

As he passed through the cloud layer, he blinked away droplets of rain and kept any response he had to himself; any attempt to call to her would take time and energy, and the former was not on his side. The cold air chilled his oiled body, but he pushed through it and continued to rise after her. The clouds were cold, but it was easier shaped than the hot air, and any advantage in this race was better than none at all.

Ah! – so it was a new Tiger in the Weyr. His eyes spun fast, as orange as his hide. That was the approaching shape he had glimpsed. A low growl vibrated in his throat as he sensed the male flying swiftly toward the group. This was a new competitor, dark and powerful instead of flashy, and entirely unknown to him. The unknown could be dangerous. The unknown could tip the balance.

Mosiliath knew, by far and large, that he was the oldest in the chase for Orikaeth. Not the oldest in the Weyr, but old enough. For a moment these thoughts distracted him. He, like his rider, had never settled down with any one chosen person – or in his case, another dragon. Flights were fun, and challenging, and he had always known that he would fly as long as he could. But these other dragons were younger, had more energy, and he couldn’t help but wonder if that fact would hurt his chances more.

The next cloud was approaching fast. With another growl, he pushed his doubts out of his mind and doubled his efforts, ignoring the burn flushing through his muscles from their unexpected exercise. Out of the corner of his eye, he spied Quiorith rising fast, completely at one with his element. If this wasn't a competition, he would have slowed down to admire his agility.

He knew it would not do to dwell on what he could not control. Orikaeth, ultimately, would choose the victor - not the other way around. Mosiliath played with the odds in his head. He knew would not mind losing to either Quiorith or Ancalanath, but this other Tiger, well…he would keep an eye on him.

Introductions would be made one way or another.

[Terayne]

Farwith ignored the other males, especially the older Tiger, continuing to rise fast. The clouds streamed over his heated skin, leaving cool droplets on it, and he arched his flight, avoiding the smaller Cloud as he came up. He then rumbled deep in his throat, but continued again not to bellow, saving his energy. She would not appreciate him giving up because he was foolish, after all. She was a Queen and deserved better than that!

For her questions, he was unable to answer, having not been there long enough to know. He'd only come here shortly before after all, a maligned male who everyone seemed to think a Brown masquerading as a Tiger. His stripes named him true! He was as much a King as this stunning Rainbow was a Queen, and she deserved his unswerving loyalty and devotion!

[Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro)]

The very tip of Ancalanath’s tail flicked as two new Kings joined the chase, one he knew well, companion and follow competitor in other Flights, the other a newcomer, and a silent one at that. Ancalanath recognized the strategy, for he’d seen it used by other Kings in other Flights, though interestingly enough, none had tried it in the South until now. He recognized it, but refused to use it. If silence were desired, then let the Queen request it. Otherwise, what point was there in hiding, in holding back even in the slightest?

With another bugle, that was how Ancalanath answered Orikaeth’s question. How could she doubt that she was worth chasing, this glorious Queen with her hide like gemstones in the sky’s dawn? If others could not see it, than that was their loss, a loss that was fully to Ancalanath’s gain, for the fewer who flew, the greater the chances of victory.

Sweeping up to the top of the cloud from without, Ancalanath clamped his wings to his side and rolled over, opening them to dive, fist upside down then twisting through a barrel roll until he was right-side up, through the cloud to emerge in the midst of those other competitors who had thought to sweep in front of him. He didn’t come too close to the Queen though; she had established the rules early for those who would seek her, and Ancalanath would grant her the right to do so. Space she demanded, so space she would receive.

Back at the Weyr, T’kar managed to retain enough situational awareness to realize that there were others arriving, even to recognize D’gan, but he was more aware of wind whipping by, of cold drops of water hitting his skin from a cloud, and of flashes of swirling colors against the blue sky. Then there was nothing but the beat of his wings, the wings that he shared with Ancalanath as they flew with all that they had, in pursuit of the rainbow that glittered and shimmered against the sky in front of them.

Another cloud was coming up, and Ancalanath swept forward, coming as close as he could to matching Quiorith’s steep climb. Not that he really could, even an astoundingly maneuverable King like Ancalanath could not match the Cloud in natural flight when not yet even warmed up, but he came very, very close.

Swerving to one side, Ancalanath pulled out of the climb to follow Orikaeth as close as he could without entering what she had decreed was her space. He still had energy, still had strength and wit and will, and he would use them all to the very end for this.

[summerrain]

"Ayleneth... Ayleneth!" The Aurora dragoness didn't respond, completely absorbed in watching the Flight. He was supposed to be Hers, so why was he Chasing such a... Oh, who was she kidding? That Rainbow was a Queen. Few Tigers could resist Chasing a Queen, though they could resist the urge to Chase most others. It was only on a whim that he had Chased her, after all... Only on a whim had she let him Catch her. They had made such a lovely Clutch, a wonderful bunch of Hatchlings. But... It seemed it was not to be...

Yuki felt her own heart clouding from the thoughts of her lifemate. She sighed and walked down the corridor, spying a familiar shape in the distance. She followed, noting which room he went to. Her eyes widened when she realized it was the Weyr of the Rainbow's Rider, who's name she had yet to learn. She knew in her heart it was not meant to be... There was too much of an age difference between them for it to be plausible. There were many others her own age who were more preferable... But how many of them would understand the reason it took her so long to trust others? She had trusted D'gan... And yet, he was in the room of the Rainbow Rider. She clenched her fists, knowing exactly what would happen if Mosiliath won... If the Tiger Caught the Rainbow. She made her way to her bed, latching the door shut behind her. She flopped onto it, face in her pillow, and simply let herself cry. Ayleneth was feeling her own despair as well. And as one, they wallowed in their own pained hearts.

[Simile]

The queen pushed her wings down harder. No! This was not right! {Come now! Surely one of you has an answer for me! Or will your silence be all I get! Answer my question or leave this flight! Am I not a treasure in the skies?! Are they not wrong to DENY my challenge?!} Retny and Orikaeth spoke at once. The rainbow turned madly whirling eyes on her chasers again. She dared them to try and get closer. She pushed her wings down powerfully again, pushing up and up. Light droplets of water started to fall on her hide, and she hissed. No rain would stop this flight! No storm would end it! She roared again, this time, challenging the coming storm itself. She would make this flight long and arduous. Her clutch would be the most glorious this Weyr had seen and only the best male could win.

Retny walked towards them, looking for all the world like an irritable, predatory cat heading toward her prey, taking them each in. She came first to W'ren, her eyes spearing him as she took him in. She reached forward and gently carressed his cheek. "Perhaps I will want you... but we have still only just started," she said, the last coming out a growl as she moved away quickly to D'gan, repeating the motion. "Or you. You are a wonderful contestant.... but we are still not near the end." She moved to T'kar, looking him over for another moment and repeating the motion. "What of you... Perhaps we will soon know." She moved to R'le and looked at him for a long moment before reaching out and carressing his cheek for a long moment. "You... Are quite something. Perhaps you will win... Look but don't touch...." She moved away and looked at them all again. "All of you! Fly for me!"she started on her way again, quickly, stopping on the ledge. She was looking back at them, her mind was flying with the rainbow high in the sky. She saw them all as flashes of hide.

This flight was going longer and longer adn they were going higher and higher, further and further. She wanted to choose, but it was not yet time. She was watching each of them. She was considering them.

Orikaeth-Retny growled in irritation. None of them had proven their worth yet. The dragon hissed.

[Shoki]

Words. Words, words, words. Why did she want words? The Cloud squirmed in the air, like a serpentine whip. He hated words now. Violet eyes swirled with red on his face. Why should he waste thought on them?! However, she had said challenge. He could not hold his tongue. Fear of a challenge was all the more reason to press on. A piece of him, perhaps, would have what he needed. The test, would hopefully turn that portion and refine it. Or he would fall and fail. So he slightly hissed before it all tumbled out.

Why should we waste thought on cowards?! They aren’t worth it. Quiorith’s voice was odd, strained and uncontrolled. He was horrible with speech! If he were not Quiorith and R’le both he would likely not even have the capacity to speak. There were thoughts though. Perhaps he could borrow the ability to speak, if he only had the ideas to lend. And of course he was a dragon of races and competition, how else should he see those that balked even stepping to the gate. He was compelled to answer. You are Orikeath! They are not worth your thought. Do not doubt that we come at your call but for the asking. Words escaped him. It could only last so long. Storm brewed in his eyes, in his wings.

A hand was at his cheek. R’le focused, dark eyes looking at the woman before him. It was hard to focus in two places at once with a mind stitched together. But he tugged focus to this body, as a heat ran from her fingers to his face. He didn’t want to think, couldn’t really think. The hand left his face to so, the brush of her touch conjuring up static, or so it seemed to him. She spoke again, this time a command to those gathered. Oh? She wanted him to fly was it? A grin creped onto the man’s face, before his eyes unfocused again.

The water on Quiorith’s hide seemed to declare it time. A storm was it? Or a mere shower. No, he saw storm clouds, he was right in them. Or they were right inside him. The dragon suddenly smoothed out, still progressing but suddenly calm. Too calm. The eyes told the story though. Anticipation, the flightlust, and what could only be described as glee. R’le and Quiorith were mashed up, stired around and simmering in the dragon body. The message from R’le’s perspective hit them, and the Cloud’s wings billowed out, in a move quite familiar to those that had raced him in the past. A moment later he dashed, but to the left. He dashed to the right. Again, but still all the while upwards. Sudden movement broke him from the background of storming clouds, and each dash had more rain hitting him, more exhilaration. Oh he couldn’t keep this up forever, but he could use it to create his own pace. Fall into the background, all you Kings, or try to show up the tiny dragon. The tiny storm.

[Moo]

Orikaeth was formidable, her Rainbow hide radiant and sleek with rain, and as she bellowed to the skies it was an awe-inspiring sight.

His muscles were on fire as he chased her up, and up, and up, as they all ascended higher than most other dragons chose to fly. Where had this storm come from again? Sides heaving as he sucked in great lungfuls of air, Mosiliath raked the air with his wings. So, it was speeches and pretty words she desired. But what would he say? He was not used to speaking like so when flying – only short words during Threadfall. Ideas floated on his tongue, but then Quiorith took the first chance and spoke. They were fine, true words. Why didn’t he think of that?

Thin streams of ichor dribbled from flared nostrils, and he shook his head to stem the flow, his eyes spinning brilliant red. This time he did not hesitate, and pushed against his exhaustion with a loud, resounding roar.

Those who shunned your challenge are not worthy of the title of King, Orikaeth. Forget them! Treasures are not meant to be shared by all! You demand – no, deserve - those honest, loyal, and true. We are here for you, young Queen, and we are yours!

Well, it would have to do.

Voicing his opinion had used more energy and pushed him down a couple of spots in the race, but he paid it no mind. This was a long flight, and perhaps the most strenuous vertical climb he had attempted in a while, but he was not going to give up yet. He would rather fall from exhaustion than turn back now. All of a sudden, Quiorith zoomed ahead from his left in a sudden rush of energy, ahead of the other suitors, zipping to and fro through the rain. A short rumble sounded in his chest – the little Cloud was clever, if a bit difficult to see among the storm. But Orikaeth had given them all a challenge, and he would see it through as well as any other.

He growled to himself through gritted, bared teeth and flew on. He was not as agile as them, but he would fly until he dropped, and not a second before.

D’gan leaned against the wall he had chosen to stand next, breathing faster, blinking away visions of bright skies, rain, dizzying flashes of color from hides and wings. Mosiliath was reaching his straining point and they both could feel it; had he been warmed up, had he flown a little earlier, this would not have set in until later. But now…

He flinched as a hand reached out and caressed his face. Retny’s hand. Trying to focus on what the the Junior Weyrwoman was saying, D’gan licked his lips and listened hard. Her voice was strong, as full of passion as the Rainbow Queen, which was all the better to hear her by. So Mosiliath was proving his worth up there in the skies…Good. Retny’s fingers were warm against his skin, and he knew it would only take a little bit of movement to turn his head and kiss the top of her hand. He kept his gaze fixed on her until she moved on to the next man in the room, at which point he tipped his head back against the wall, closed his eyes, and imagined all the other places on her he’d like to kiss.

The side of his mouth twitched up in an indulgent smirk. Maybe Mosiliath had been right after all. It would be good for him – and Retny, too, should she choose him.