We Own It {Orikaeth Rises}

[Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro)]

T’kar shook his head, dazed, confused. He heard a voice with his human ears, a caress along his human cheek. For a brief moment, his vision doubled once more, showing him the interior of Retny’s weyr as well as the sky, clouds, and light rain that Ancalanath strove through. Retny started to step away and the doubling faded, taking with it T’kar’s awareness of himself as a separate entity. He was Ancalanath-T’kar, and the flight was not over yet.

Ancalanath’s wingbeats faltered, stilling for a moment of confusion, almost of shock. What was this sudden obsession with words? What did it matter for what reason other had refused to claim the sky? Before he could even think of a way to put his sentiment to words, Quiorith answered the challenge, echoed not more than a moment later by Mosiliath.

Ancalanath roared, the beginning of his roar echoing across the very tail end of Mosiliath’s deeper voiced one. Suddenly, he knew what to say, the words appearing in his mind as though placed there.

How can you doubt that they are wrong? You are truly a gem, a treasure of the sky.

Quiorith cut across in front of Ancalanath’s path, along with that of the other Kings,and with another roar, Ancalanath strove up, fought for altitude such as even he obtained but rarely. If that was where the rainbow was, than Ancalanath would follow.

[Simile]

Further. They were coming through another cloud, the sun streaming through it. Orikaeth roared again, turning quickly. this was the peak of her flight. This was when she would choose. But she had to keep moving lest they catch her before she was ready. Their words were pretty and pleasing. She was ready to choose... but it was now a matter of who. She stretched her wings and pushed herself higher. The farther she went, the better her clutch.

She considered their words. This was the challenge. She never doubted. Oh never. But she needed to know their answers. {Ancalanath, you are a worthy king. Strong and brave... but I fear that today I am not meant to be yours. But perhaps in another time. I do not doubt that they are wrong. Thank you, my Flaming king... today I am not yours.} The Tiger she liked as well. She looked at him, considering. His words were pretty {They are foolish for denying their chance at a treasure, my lovely king. But, alas... Today is not our day... Thank you for chasing me so well.}

That left two. A king and a little storm. She considered them. {My Dark king, you are more than you seem and you will have the time and the ability to prove it again. I will challenge you again... but today I choose another.}

She was lagging, her wings slowing. She was tired. It was well into the morning now or was it afternoon... she could not tell. She only knew they had been flying above the surface of Pern for hours.

It was the passion of the little storm that spoke to her. {You come for me simply because I ask. You speak with passion. You are brave and you have flown strong and true.} She let her wings fall still. {Come. Today you are a king!}

Retny gasped, feeling the choice in her nad feeling the start of the fall. Yes. Today was their day. She reached out her arms to R'le, smiling at him. Her eyes closed as she waited, as her dragon waited, for him to catch her... and they would start their decent to the ground once more. But let it come as it may... "R'le..." Retny whispered softly. He had won her. His dragon had won hers. It had only been a matter of time.

[Moo]

Eyes whirling hues of yellow, and then relieved greens and blues, Mosiliath slowed his pace as Orikaeth selected her champion. A soft purr thrummed in his throat. He had flown alongside Quiorith before and was glad that the little Cloud finally had his chance. He was a good dragon, with good colors, and their clutch would be fine and well. Yes, the whole affair was well chosen. With what energy he had left, he coasted along the thermals and replied to the Rainbow Queen.

The pleasure has been all mine. Thank you for the chase, Orikaeth.

Ahhh. At last, with everything said and done, he could rest.

Dropping below the winning pair, Mosiliath turned around and began to glide back down to the Heights, selecting his course far away from the other suitors. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to do more of – sleep or eat. The colors in his eyes spun indecisively, but eventually tiredness won out. He reached out to his rider’s mind with a shaky tendril of thought.

Though we did not win, I am proud of you for doing this.

D’gan had already left Retny’s weyr once he heard her proclamation of the winner herself. He wasn’t quite sure where he was going, but he knew he needed to sit down. Preferably someplace where he could be alone. I didn’t have much a choice now, did I?

Mosiliath dropped down onto the Heights with an ungraceful thud. Favoring his right wing, he stretched out in the space he claimed as his own. With a great sigh, he closed his eyes, rest his head on his forelegs, and let the sun warm his jumping, overworked muscles.

Not exactly. But you know why I did this, yes?

Yeah…I think so.

Good. Think on it some more while I sleep. Sooner or later, you know what must happen.
All too well.

[Shoki]

Quiorith flew after her, still, remaining silent as Orikeath began to reveal her thoughts. It seemed as though her lovely words were a sort of parting gift, a consolation to being rejected. Perhaps not, he could not tell, for she spoke to other dragons first. Ancalanth first, Quiorth expected she was calling to her victor. She did not, and moved on. First the elder Tiger, then the younger. Quiorith didn’t quite understand, only saw the wavering wings, the evidence that the Rainbow was tired. How long had they been flying? He did not know. He lost track of time in the clouds over the Weyr. However any thoughts he might have had left to consider were quieted when Orikaeth spoke again, this time, to him directly.

The little dragon was suddenly so full with pride that he felt like he was going to burst. The Cloud was not slow in reacting, he would never have let himself let down Orikaeth now. He went forward to take the burden of staying in the air on himself, extending his large wings to keep the dragoness aloft. He had energy to spare (well maybe not to spare) but he would keep her well safe and not have to worry her about a thing. He crooned, so very pleased, that he hat Orikaeth to himself, even for a little while. Time could continue to be lost a little while longer.

R’le’s attention was suddenly split. What was going on? Oh hey, Retny. He didn’t even have to think, he just extended his arms to take her into them. Heat shot up his spine as she whispered his name, and he couldn’t quite wrap his head around what was happening. He didn’t have to, that was the thing. So he didn’t worry, he just did what he did best and went along with whatever adventure he had at the moment. He reached up to touch her check, running his fingers down to her chin.

“Sorry Retny. You said no touching, I think I am going to break the rules a bit.” His usual mischievous little grin played on his face and he leaned in to press his lips to hers. Oh he was not going to want to let her go. Not at all.

[Terayne]

Farwith growled softly, still unable to give her what she wanted. He didn't KNOW! He didn't know the males of this Weyr. So he remained silent, flying hard, giving her his all with every beat of those dark, striped wings. As she spoke to him, he listened, crooning softly to her. It was her choice, after all, of who she wished to spend time with, and if she wished to grace a little Cloud with her presence, then that Cloud must be a truly inspiring being. Shards, he'd kept up with three KINGS for all this time, as well as the prismatic beauty they had been chasing.

I do apologize I could not give you an answer to your query, lovely Queen. I have only recently come to this place. I wish you and your mate well. With that he swerved away, heading back for the Weyr, His wings were burning, his skin damp from the storm, but he felt pride in himself for at least having tried. He may not have succeeded, but nor had she called him a pretender. She had named him KING after all. That was enough for him.

Shaking his head, W'ren padded silently out of the weyr, leaving the new mates to their privacy. Sighing, he muttered under his breath and headed for the Lower caverns. Maybe there he could find some relief...

[Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro)]

Had he been standing upon the ground, and thus capable of doing so without overly disrupting his movement, Ancalanath would have borrowed his rider’s acknowledging nod for a response. However, limited in options by the need to keep his body at least moderately aligned for the purpose of flying without injury, he instead responded with words.

Thanks are mine to give. he said simply. Yielding to temptation, he inclined his head as much as his current flight path allowed, then smoothly stilled his wings and with a snap of his back, flipped himself over so that he was diving towards the ground, rolling over in mid-dive so that he would come in upright.

How’s about that double by-pass?[/b] he asked T’kar as he settled in the WeyrBowl, smoothly furling his wings.

T’kar knew that neither Retny nor R’le could see him, since he was already in the hall, but he nodded in their direction anyway. Ancalanath’s comment interrupted his train of thought, and he had to smother a laugh. Practice is cancelled for Flights, you know that.

Ancalanath’s only response was a snort, and the image of them flying their part of the maneuver.

Not tired? T’kar asked silently, sauntering out into the WeyrBowl. Upset? Why bother? This way he wasn’t explaining delicate situations to Rilora, at least!

Ancalanath snorted again and crouched, raising a foreleg so that T’kr could vault up. A heartbeat later and they were in the air, vanishing only to reappear over the ocean, racing the waves.

[Jay Kitten]

And there he sat, nose tilted to the sky, a light sniff the only thing announcing his presence other than of course the vibrant hide that he wore. A King he was, but a King he did not feel like, his eyes were always watching but never were they out front, seeing what a leader should. A runt to the last, indeed he was, and many teasing words had he endured to bring himself out of the ties of emotional thinking. But on days like this, he remembered the things those bronzes and crimsons had said. Never once had another Tiger looked down on their fellow, for he knew that their bond transcended their hides and stripes, and looked deeper, into their very souls. He was a Tiger, not some single petty color, not some straight-thinker. He knew who his siblings were, he knew who had birthed him, why he was here.

But he also knew he couldn't Fly.

It wasn't like he didn't want to, surely, but... He wasn't like Regganith. He had no chosen one. He had spoken to the older dragon, of course, and Cirryyth knew he didn't have the same reasons for not joining the chase. Even now, he watched his opposite, Farwith, the Tiger with the dark hide... What a show! What a splendid chase he had given! But alas, if even a large, powerful beast like him couldn't do it, what did he have? A pair of wings much too large for his own small body. A humming light inside his body that wanted to sing to a female, but the stammering voice of a coward.

He felt V'ridian's mind touch his own, felt it before he felt that small, fleshy hand land on his flank. Had he been next to him the whole time? He lowered his shoulder and allowed the man to mount him, before he let one wing-beat off him from the ledge. The Weyrharper's weight shifted instinctively to the right, and sure enough he drifted to the left on takeoff as usual, balancing out with a steadying push on the opposite side as he made his way awkwardly skyborn. It was best to forget it, he would have his day someday. Perhaps a Queen wasn't what he was meant for? Or perhaps there was one who was too easy a catch for those with pride to follow. Whatever the future held, it wasn't for him today.

Pure blackness soon enveloped V'ridian, an unpleasant, dark feeling of absolute void removing any thought he could make aside from feeling like he was about to perish. He knew in his mind, the only thing still functioning, that they wouldn't arrive where he had wanted to go. Cirryyth just couldn't do it...