Fort Weyr - Western Forests
The forests here grow all the more pressing, soon choking out the gravel- and sand-formed path that splits from the fork. While it continues to wind further into the darkness and coolness that only such thickly grown foliage can create, other smells hint at places yet to be fully explored. Blueberries and the calls of birds, lush blackberry thickets just out of sight, and deep undergrowth that holds promise of mysterious fungi and other such plants.
Traveling through the woods alone is always a dangerous affair … and all the moreso with whisperings of renegades and feral beasts running rampant throughout. The whoop and call of avians and firelizards penetrate the strange not-quite-silence of the forest, while deeper rumblings of creatures yet unseen might be heard in other places. Great beasts crash through the forest from time to time and set the avians into unexpected flight.


Note: This takes place at the same time as Unfortunate Midnight Rendezvous

Kimmila continues to sleep in the tent she shares with Th'ero, turning over and mumbling a bit, lost to her dreams. For the moment.

Cyrus also continues to sleep. Which is probably good for the now absent candidates as he would probably have told on them immediately. He does not snore and his tent is quiet.

Kimmila shifts in the tent, uncomfortable…squirming…until she awakens with a grunt. Blinking up at the roof of the tent she yawns and turns, looking at sleeping Th'ero. She shifts again, uncomfortable, and crawls out of the tent to take a midnight stretch. Hands over her head, she arches her back, yawns…and then sees by the moonlight that half the sleeping mats are empty. "SHIT," Kimmila swears, turning back to the tent. "Th'ero. Up. Candidates are gone." She grabs her dagger belt and her bow, her quiver…

Cyrus had been sleeping peacefully until Kimmila let her 'colorful metaphor' loose. He opens his eyes just in time to hear that candidates are gone. He sits up quickly and blinks a few times to clear the sleep from his eyes. He too surveys the campsite and finds that most of the candidates have gone. Where? Who knows. That irks him a little bit, mainly because them being gone has disturbed his nights sleep, "Great." he says to no one in particular.

Th'ero wakes up surprisingly swift. He already was semi-awakened by Kimmila's restlessness and at her voice urging him, the Weyrleader snaps awake. Rolling to his feet, he is swearing a streak of profanity and oaths as he grabs his short sword and his dagger. Storming out of his tent, he immediately launches in a scathing verbal reprimand against the riders on duty before putting them to orders. "You and you!" Testament of how angry he is, to forgo the respect of names! "Get the remaining Candidates grouped here. Keep them together! The rest of you, with us!" Cyrus is given a brief glance from Th'ero and then the Weyrleader is signalling to Kimmila and the riders he's picked to follow them.

Abigail had been out on patrol, and wouldn't you know it was was out at the /other/ side of where everything is going down. She is making her way back into the camp followed by two canines that are busy sniffing around and one of them seems a bit stressed, hackles raised and the like. Abbey catches sight of the movement from Kimmila and then is looking towards where the others are. "Seriously" Is muttered out as she pulls her bow from her shoulder and sends one canine off while she makes her way to catch up with Th'ero and Kimmila.

Kimmila is swearing, muttering, stomping about. Stringing her bow, she tests it and readies an arrow, tilting her head to try and listen. "Shards and shells. I think…" She pauses. Shouting? Yeah. "This way." She bolts for the forest, running swiftly.

Meanwhile, the riders left behind go about their task with seriousness, trying to forget their stripping by their Weyrleader. "Wake up Candidates! Get dressed, leave your gear. Gather to us!" Come the orders, spoken with firm urgency but calm enough to distil outright panic.

Cyrus is apparently not really going anywhere. Which suits him just fine, though he can't help but wonder about what is going on with his compatriots. On the upside its incredibly liberating not to be /in/ trouble. He wouldn't want to face down Th'ero…or Kimm for that matter. At least not without great need and for a really good reason. He just sits there…nothing else to do really. The others have it well in hand it seems. And then the orders come. He throws on his jacket and stands to his feet to go to the indicated individuals.

Th'ero nods grimly to Kimmila, his temper still in full swing as he unsheathes his sword. Stupid, stupid of them to camp out here so long! Stupid of the Candidates to wander off! Should've known better. Them and himself! Hearing footsteps approaching behind them, the Weyrleader crouches and turns, readied, only to relax a fraction when he recognizes Abigail. "Wingleader!" he says briskly, gesturing for her to follow while Kimmila leads them forwards. "Has word been sent back to the Weyr? I've the other Candidates being rounded up to be brought back to the Weyr." Out of danger.

Kimmila shakes her head as she tracks. "Have Velo do it!" she calls back, adjusting her grip on her bow and avoiding the road, instead moving through the trees as silently as she can, coming up on the chaos… She swears again.

Abigail offers a quick nod to the pair while an arrow is pulled, one of her canines is following at her heels. "Sir, Kimmila." As for word sent back to the Weyr she glances upwards and there is a flash of a firelizard though the message is getting sent quickly from Niumdreoth to the other dragons. "It is now." Is said with a faint mutter. The voices are loud, and she frowns a bit before moving forward heading on towards where the shouts are coming from. This can't be good. She has no problem moving through the trees, and quietly at that, as for the scene that unfolds before them well she was hoping /none/ of this would be going on right now. So much for that thought.

Cyrus isn't really all that sure where he is going to end up being sent, but he isn't really all that worried about it. For the moment he seems fairly well protected. The other candidates…who knows. He does hope they are ok though, "Soooo….what are we doing?" he asks the rider that had asked the remaining candidates to come over and gather to him.

"We're getting you guys out of here. Trouble," One of the riders informs Cyrus rather tersely, his eyes looking warily and very much concerned towards those forests. "Come along then. Follow us! We need to get to the clearing," Well away from the chaos and trouble not too far away! "Hurry now! Don't dawdle!" Some of the other Candidates are balking, protesting in leaving their fellow Candidates behind. The riders will have none of it and usher them forwards. Just as they break through the trees, the midnight sky is suddenly filled with the sound of many pairs of wings as they soar and dive overhead and off into the distance.

Cyrus is able to figure out several things. First. There is something going on beyond candidates sneaking off into the woulds. He knows that Candidates are valuable resources and are needed but this response is a bit much for that, "If there are wounded I should be here. I'm a healer. My first duty is to the wounded. I didn't stop being a healer when I became a candidate…despite what some seem to say." he says to the rider, "So if there are wounded you best leave me behind." Cyrus can be just as terse.

The response is plenty adequate for the situation. The Weyr answers to danger posed to their own and the Candidates lives are as precious as any other. The renegades pose a danger to all, so of course the Weyr reacts. Now that everyone is on the alert, the Candidates who had remained in the camp, asleep, are now being woken up and hurried out in a group, surrounded by riders. "I don't know…" The rider wavers under Cyrus' protests. A Healer is always needed. But he has his orders from the Weyrleader. "You'd be needed back at the Weyr. Any injured will be brought there… Now hurry! There's little time!" Already there are dragons landing in the clearing, green and blue mostly for their smaller size and swiftness.

"You do know what the consequences are for any individual, rider or no, who interferes with a healer in the course of doing his duty?" he asks the rider, "If you pull me away from here I will bring you up on charges and you will witness first hand if you don't already know." Yep. Cyrus can be a pain in the butt when he feels he is right and in this situation he is right.

From where she's been looking after the youngest of the candidates, Amethyst looks over to Cyrus and the rider, leaving her charges to go join the Healer. "Cy," that's her 'I'm going to try and be reasonable' voice, as she looks from him to the rider, who is given a brief, strained nod. "If they're all being taken back to the Weyr, then maybe that would be the best place for you to take your skills? It makes sense… I'll assist you, too, once I've got the younger ones settled." One of the girls is crying, and has trailed after Amethyst to cling to her side… which would seem to be a cue for the others to follow. A nervous little gaggle, gathered around them!

The rider's eyes only narrow to Cyrus and most of what the Candidate boasts falls on deaf ears as the Wingrider knows just how far sway holds here. "Aye, be that as it may, I've my orders by the Weyrleader, Candidate and I've been told to take you all back to the Weyr!" He looks grateful for Amethyst as she steps in and he nods, motioning for them to follow him to his waiting blue dragon. "This forest is no place for Candidates right now!" Indeed, all the dragons are showing signs of agitation, their postures tensed and eyes whirling with red, orange and yellow. One green warbles in alarm and is answered by many. The Wingrider swears, "Damn it! The Weyrsecond…" Oh, that doesn't sound good? He gestures impatiently. "Come on! Mount up!"

There are a couple of things in life that Cyrus is very unreasonable about. One of them is his duty to heal. He may not have the 'rank' but he does have the training and he isn't going to be relegated to the sidelines on this. He glances back to Amy when she pipes up. She seems to be doing a good thing, "Some injuries require immediate treatment…" He isn't afraid, his training has long since kicked in, but he is more than a little bit irritated and it shows in his body language which is stiff and rigid, and in his voice, but he also knows he isn't going to win this particular fight and there are always other ways to fight, "Fine. You take me back then…" he points at the offending rider, "Take me to the infirmary." He also neglects to mention that he gets flight sick. Thats just his special gift to the rider who is presently irritating him. He moves off toward the dragon that the rider indicated and attempts to do his best to get himself strapped in.

"You'll do more good with your tools around you," Amethyst reassures her Healer friend, giving him a brief pat on the back before ushering some of the younger ones towards the dragons. Looking up at the rider and his cursing, she bites her lip anxiously. "Are they alright? I mean… nothing's… they're all still there, aren't they?" She's seeking a more delicate way of putting it, to avoid worrying the smaller ones more than necessary. "Cy, could you help her strap in?" There's a young girl mounted up behind him who's struggling with the straps.

"That is what I am trying to do!" The bluerider explains, slightly exasperated now by Cyrus' behaviour and once more relieved by Amethyst's level headed approach. While he checks on the straps, he'll leave her to take control and organize who mounts up first. "There's a skirmish." he explains grimly, already looking as though he regrets that they overheard him muttering about the Weyrsecond. Of course, there's no missing the dragon-voiced roars and screams that follow. One from Niumdreoth and the other from Velokraeth. The bluerider hisses through his teeth. "All of you! Mount up, now!" If they don't move fast enough, the Wingrider will do it for them and all too soon they'll be aloft and zipping back to the Weyr. True to his word, he has his blue land in the bowl right by the Infirmary and despite the hour, the Weyr is in a frenzy. Welcome home to chaos?

Cyrus had secured the straps of the young girl so that she wouldn't be thrown from the dragon. Immediately upon his arrrival he undoes his own straps and quickly dismounts the dragon. He looks back at the rider and with a quick shake of his head says, "Sorry about the mess." he says curtly before he is on his way immediately to the infirmary. Serves the rider right. Stomach is useful for something. He glances back looking for Amy…she had said that she would help and he thinks they are going to need all the help that they can get.

So much chaos! Amethyst helps the younger ones down once they're in the Weyr, thanking the riders once they're all gathered around. "Alright," she says, resting a hand on the shoulder of the girl who's still sobbing, and drawing her into her side for a hug. "We're home, and you're safe, and there's nothing to worry about - so you can either go bathe and go back to the barracks, or, if you've any experience, you can help out in the infirmary… so long as you stay out of the way while helping. Go on, now. I'll see if I can't get something sent to the barracks from the kitchen…" And with the sobbing young candidate sticking to her side, Amethyst shoos the other candidates away to do their thing while heading to the lower caverns to try and wheedle something sweet out of the cooks.