Fort Weyr - Southwestern Bowl
The dominant feature of the southern end of the bowl is the blue lake that fills the entire southern tip and the rockslide that tumbles down into its far side. It has been many, many, turns since the slide took place, but it still stands uncleared to this day. Occasionally, smaller pebbles tumble down to splash into the waters of the lake below, but the mass seems mostly stable. Sturdy fences mark the feeding pens that the dragons may choose their meals from, located against the west face. The beasthold here is minor, small cramped buildings, used mostly to maintain the herds which feed the dragons. The major beasthold is located out in the forests, just outside the Weyr. There's a sign which warns "that beasts in this location are fair game to the dragons" and that any domestic pleasure stock should be kept in the major beasthold location.

The other feature that does not go unnoticed in this bowl is the large cavernous archway. There seems to be cobble stone laid down near the archway, which causes a clatter when the wagons and trading caravans arrive. Indeed, it seems that there's a tunnel out of the bowl here, wide enough for two trader caverns to fit through and possibly a small blue dragon. To the opposite end, the great bowl stretches away far, leading to some very interesting locations.

It's only just been a day and a little since Kouzevelth's slight attitude change has morphed into a visible glow, marking a blessedly short proddy period for the uneasy, edgy and snappish Inri. As soon as the skies opened up into rain, those who know the gold well knew there wouldn't be much longer, providing enough time for Inri to prepare herself and for the other golds and their riders to take short vacations. Now, Inri is sitting on a stone near the outer edge of the lakeshore, watching her lifemate — the gold merely rests nearby and enjoys the summer rains, blinding passers-by with an orange glow and threatening to trip them with a lashing extra-long tail. "Would you just," Inri waves a hand. "Get on with it already. Please. Today."

Tivaly's not here, but G'zarm is. He's a man sliding through middle age as gracefully as he can, getting older but, as yet, refusing to get old. His brown-going-silver hair is cut strictly close, his face is still handsome despite the first signs of a sag at his jaw and lots of crow's feet at the corner of gray-blue eyes. In short, he was probably quite a catch five or ten Turns ago, but is now more an acquired taste - and a taste that's been acquired around Fort Weyr since his Impression to brown Tianth some 30 Turns ago. As much as the brownrider might like to sit this one out, his dragon lurks on his ledge, peering intently down at the glare of gold on the lakeshore, waiting impatiently. Maybe not as impatiently as Inri herself, but pretty durn antsy, even still.

A day and a little bit is plenty of warning and Velokraeth has been keeping a close eye on Kouzevelth. The pale bronze has never dared to get too close to her and has to divide his time of observing her and placating an irritable Kayeth. Until she (and the other golds) left that is and now? Now he is free to pursue that orange-gold hide to his content (he'll deal with grumpy Kayeth later too). As the rains begin, Velokraeth stretches out on his ledge and with a deep throated rumble, flares his wings and begins to soar towards the lake shore where he lands a respectful distance away. He looks positively relaxed about all of this, if not casually amused. « Good day for a chase, isn't it? Rain. So invigorating. » Velokraeth muses, his mind rippling with laughter and the sweet tang of wine as he reaches out to those males who may already have arrived or are circling in.

Ha'ze actually isn't totally sure why he is here. But Kainaesyth has been pulling and tugging and so, here he is. The rain prickles against his skin, turning aged bronze into an almost black colour, soaking in the rain into his hide. "I know you are thinkin' rain be the bringer of life, but really, can't I be findin' some tree to be standin' under?" A Mini complaint.

Br'enn knows Tovihasuth has been watching Kouzevelth intently ever since she started glowing, and has resigned himself to the fact that his lifemate has probably taken enough of an interest to chase when she rises. Phoenix's newest wingrider has also been adamant about just letting it happen; Tov hasn't chased yet, and they both just need to get through a flight sometime. He isn't one to deny his lifemate something that he has every right to go through, after all. Br'enn also doesn't mind the rain, which is good, considering Tovihasuth insisted that his rider had to come outside so that he could see Kouzevelth glowing; he's never seen anything like it! Neither has Br'enn, of course, so the bronzer is rather surprised when he sees the glowing gold. Otherwise, he simply wanders the edge of the lakeshore, hands shoved in the pockets of the dark shorts that cling to his brawny form just as much as the grey tank covering his torso does in this rain. He sees Inri, but doesn't simply go over to her, Tovihasuth's intent on Kouzevelth affecting him enough to regard the junior weyrwoman the same way. As if examining the wide angle of a puzzle. Velokraeth's words have the young bronze tilting his head a bit. « It is! But does it help her fly faster or something? » he wants to know. Is it an advantage?

Ah Dremkoth! The bronze is irrepressible when it comes to adventure and while a glowing Kouzevelth is enticing enough, the chase through the skies is, oddly perhaps, even more of a draw. There's certainly an underlying fondness for the queen but instinct has him even more attentive these past few days and though careful not to hover too closely, he's kept an eye on her, leering from afar. Possessive much Dremkoth? Moreover, he's refused to leave the Weyr for the past few days, which means…SIGH… D'ani hasn't either. Things are to the point that he cannot keep to his ledge any longer and glides soundlessly to where Kouzevelth is, landing as lightly as the small bronze can manage and then sneeeeeaks towards her… The weyrsecond has seen enough of Inri in their shared office to be aware of her mood, has offered quiet and patient support but now… now he's unable to concentrate on his paperwork and thus finds himself drawn to the lake heedless of the rain that's soaked his shirt and plastering his dark hair to his head.

There is a visiting bronze among the dragons here, Draukaith was lounging upon a cliff edge that was big enough for his bulk, enjoying the wet weather and the scenery before him. Though his attention is not on the forests around him, no instead he is looking out towards the movement of other dragons, and that one hide that is glowing and ever so interesting him at the moment. With a stretch and a deep rumble he is up, wings opening and he leaps down from the ledge he had taken over for a spell and is gliding out to join others waiting it would seem. A deep rumble escaping him that sound as if he is attempting to make a little melody, music to a dragon of course. « Nothing wrong with a little rain! » Though he does love water, rain is just another part of it after all. T'revs is making his way along, and there is the rain which his dragon was telling him about while he looks upwards curiously. There is another thought though and to Draukaith whom is out and very interested in a certain gold. "Now..?" He wishes he would not, there is not talking his dear bronze out of this right now.

Niumdreoth has been sleeping up on his ledge, though that won't last much longer as there is a certain gold that his had a history with when going up and after before. His head lifts a deep yawn escaping him while he shifts and moves his head tilting to the side as his attention is settling upon the ones he can hear and he curiously watches. A lash of his tail has him moving, wings open and stretch and his checking one scared up wing a bit more before he is leaping up into the wet air. He bugles out to the rest, his form turning and then curling as he moves to find a place to land and well, wet weather will not be stopping him from trying that is for sure!

There's also Yet Another Bronze who Isn't Just Visiting, lurking on the promontory up above where those fences got all busted and stuff. Waiting for the gold, in the rain. In the rain, which is dripping off his hide and painting the ten-Turn-old Icosuth to near-black. Somewhere down below, W'mic is losing his argument with the bronze; the rider grits his teeth, finishes his drink, and begins the long stalk out to the bowl. « The water brings out the shine in your hide, » the bronze sends the gold, his voice insinuating like an oily rain-slick rainbow itself.

« Of course. » Those words are Kouzevelth's, little electric lightning zaps punctuating her mindvoice as it touches each of her nearby pursuers. What she forgets to include in her commentary is of course what — it could be agreeing with Velokraeth, it could be confirming Tovihasuth's suspicions, complimenting Draukaith, concurring with Icosuth, any number of things. But being proddy doesn't actually make her any chattier, so any thoughts on the matter will never be confirmed; Inri is certainly not about to try to decode her. Inri isn't doing much just yet but letting herself relax just slightly in very, very short-lived relief as Kouzevelth sits up, fans out wings that are just as take-caution wide as her tail is long, and springs up in pursuit of nearby herdbeast blood. All that comes out of the goldrider's mouth? "Finally," as she surveys the nearby riders with a wary eye. So much for the relief: now she has to contend with them.

Velokraeth swivels is large and oversized head, shifting on his stunted forelimbs as he folds his wings loosely against his sides, ready at any moment to move should Kouzevelth stir. His whirling eyes, now flickering with purple, take in each new bronze and brown, familiar and foreign alike. He chuffs audibly but it sounds amused rather than annoyed. « Ahh, look who all seek to pay homage to such a lovely lady! » To Tovihasuth, the ugly bronze merely replies with an implied and impish grin. « We could hope it does? Never you mind on such trivial things! You just mind you stay clear of her tail… until the right time. » "Velokraeth… honestly!" Th'ero can be heard growling under his breath as he storms his way from the bowls, already well on his way to being soaked through by the rains. The Weyrleader WAS in his office trying to get through his paperwork and now this? He should have taken Inri's warnings seriously and left on an impromptu vacation himself. Not that Velokraeth would go. So here he is, glaring through the rain at his lifemate who is feigning innocence and pretending to hear nothing as he focuses on Kouzevelth. And there she goes! With a warble-like call, Velokraeth springs aloft and towards the feeding grounds, his mind reaching out again in a tickling wave of intoxicating wine.

« The story begins! » Kainaesyth's voice rings out, the rain falling over the desert causing the plants to spring to life, their greenery blocking out the dustiness of the desert's rocks. Slowly the river level rises as Kainaesyth pounces on a beast of his own, apparently unconcerned for a moment at the fact that they are not free to be wandering. His kill is almost gentle though, as he takes the life into himself with a silent rejoicing in a death well given and a life lived with purpose. THAT at least gets Ha'ze full and complete attention as his eyes widen abruptly. "NO." But Kai? He's so not listening to Ha'ze right now. Excuse the young bronze rider as he turns around and slowly is going to beat his head against the wall. Once. Twice…. bad Kainaesyth.

And so, like it or not, G'zarm is in this for the long-haul. There's some harassing each other, the dragon eager to reach the feeding grounds, the rider eager not to pull a muscle in the effort to mount up and make it down from his ledge without straps. In the end, they compromise: G'zarm doesn't get hurt, and Tianth gets to go quickly, all but dumping his rider off at the edge of the feeding grounds before he pounces into the feeding grounds like some oversized flyswatter smashing down on a panicked herdbeast. It's been too many Turns of this for G'zarm to even grimace at the gush of blood and guts, but he does give a long-suffering sigh before getting his bearings, squinting through the rain - because he needed to add that insult to his particular injury - to locate the warm bodies he ought to follow to some weyr or another.

That would probably be W'mic's cue, coming out from the caverns, to put two and two together and get seventeen or so — and to pat Ha'ze on the shoulder as he walks past the headbanging youngun. It gets easier with time, kid. (In theory.) From above, Icosuth lets out a warbling screech that sounds more like it came from a harpy's throat than a large bronze's, as he plummets from the ledge down on some barely-suspecting herdbeasts, blooding both of them in quick succession before they really know what's going on, or that they are, in fact, already dead. "Weyrwoman Inri," W'mic offers calmly (as calmly as possible in the circs, at least), nodding to her, his hands in his pockets and his hair dripping in his face. At least he hadn't been doing anything important when the bowl lit up neon orange, right? Unlike the Weyrleader, perhaps?

Tovihasuth is off like a shot when Kouzevelth springs away after a herdbeast, ready and more than able to act in kind. The nimble bronze gives a determined tenor cry of intent, landing full upon a good-sized beast and going about the more intricate process of blooding it. Ah, so this is what all that training was all about. A swift breeze, stiff and cool, brushes Velokraeth's mind in acknowledgement of the tip; any advice is taken to heart right now. Even as he bloods, he turns whirling red eyes on the queen. « Wooooow, » comes a his nearly breathless evaluation of the glowing Kouzevelth amid the determined bastioning of his mindscape. « You're…amazing. » Amazing…-looking? Sounding? That goes unspecified. Tovihasuth just knows that the queen is about to become a challenge for him to solve. Br'enn's intent on Inri doesn't lessen, either; he sucks in a breath as his lifemate surges toward the pens to begin his blooding, and settles into silence as he confronts the new experience he's now in the middle of.

Dremkoth's mind reaches out, mostly to Kouzevelth's though the rest of the males will also catch the sigh of night breezes and the glitter of starshine. No words, simply the impression of mystery and something fascinating to…be shared. And the sneaking he's doing? Sadness and woe! Short-circuited before he can pounce. He scramble to re-launch, following the bright queen to the feeding pens where he dispatches a beast to blood efficiently, all the while keeping his eyes on HER. D'ani…yeah. He's…here. The normally easy-going and polite weyrsecond frowns at the other riders and steps closer to Inri, even though he knows he cannot really shield her as he'd like to. To her he mumbles awkwardly, "You're…getting…wet." No duh, D'ani. Smooth!

Niumdreoth settles there in a couch, tail slowly swaying as his wings twitch and flutter a bit at his sides. The brown is a bit nervous and mostly thanks to a sudden lashing he just got from his rider. Still the need is there, the will is there even if his rider is telling him /not/ to. Though when the first animal is bloodied there will be not chance to stop the large brown from what he wants, his caught golds before, his caught a gold here at home before so he is willing to give it his all for that chance once more. He moves with agile grace, wings tucking close, a forepaw snagging a beast and dragging it downwards with a quick jerk of his form. He is not much of a talker at the time of a flight, his actions are more seeable then heard at times really. The beast he got is bloodied easily with a deep rumble escaping him as his swirling gaze rests upon Kouzevelth. Abigail is here, late to the party so to speak and is looking a bit mad to say the least. "Dammit Niumdreoth." Is hissed out while she watches her brown take a beast down. Her jaw tenses at the thoughts that are running through her idea at the moment and she is soon frowning, she can't stop Nium and has little choice but to well let it take place. Her movement being her on closer to the others and she finds herself next to Ha'ze, her arms folding before her with a tired look seen before she glances over to Ha'ze. "Hello Ha'ze.." She offers with a soft smile sent to him. Before she glances to the others here. "Hello Inri.." Though there is a pause while others are well, here and talking to the Weyrwoman as well.

Draukaith is heading after a beastie once the blooding starts, his slender form taking one down with a mighty grab to the neck and he goes about draining the animal as quickly as possible. His wings rests slightly unfurled at his sides while his tail slides to settle at his side. Oh yes this is a scene he has done before, many males have after all! His head is settled upon Kouzevelth and there is a soft croon escaping him. His mindvoice is soft, though the vision are clear, a sea that is starting to be filled with whitecaps, a storm rolling in to his mind with bright starts appearing over the sky above the waves. T'revs clears his throat a bit, a slight nod of his head caught once his wandering up to join the others near the gathering spot. Though as his from another weyr names are a bit absent from him at the moment. "Greeting from Monaco Bay Weyr." Well, there are other things he could say, but giving what is going down he feels that was a safe greeting, for the moment.

All the attention is fuel to Kouzevelth's fire, though if you want a cozy hearth you'd best be looking to one of the other Fortian golds; her mindscape is all lightning-strike-trees, wild running forest fires. Dremkoth's stars, though mostly hoarded for her own spaces, are definitely adding to the illumination effect; there is also mental laughter, likely meant for Tovihasuth — not teasing, so much as delighted by watching young minds expand. After a final herdbeast neck snap, totaling three for those following along at home, those massive wings flutter and stretch; she leaps to the sky in one sudden abrupt motion. After the brief lurch as her stomach folds inside out, Inri's first thought is for poor Ha'ze, for whom she mutters, "I am so sorry about Kainaesyth," as if he can hear her. Maybe he can, in between head smacks. Clearly it's her fault Ha'ze's dragon decided to chase. D'ani gets a little smile, and, "Same as always," with a shake of her head. It's clear from the way she's physically angling and the fond looks she's giving her clutchmates that if she were given a choice, she would just hide herself behind D'ani and Abigail and use them as walls to keep the others away. Th'ero, too, most likely. "She wouldn't have it any other way." Diplomacy smile on, though: T'revs looks like a stand-up guy. "Fort's duties, and my individual apology for catching you up in — all this."

Kainaesyth's mind reaches out to embrace those trees, reveling in the fires that will bring forth life after their destruction. For adversity can breed change which no other force can, and the gentle bronze welcomes the transformation as he leaps after the gold. No dashing lover is the dusty bronze, he seems to float upon the winds , slightly apart from the other, the story of that which they can create together to pull the gold closer to him, rather than to win her by displays of strength or cunning. She would make her choice in the end, and whomever won, there would be life to come with it! « The day is glorious! » His only coherent thought spreads to all of the others. Ha'ze is still disagreeing, though he's slowly settling into the idea that this is just going to happen. But he's going to be stubborn. No, just as Kainaesyth keeps away, Ha'ze does also, refusing to even look at Inri. Not that he doesn't want to, but he's being stuborn. NO. "Abbey." Tight comes the greeting. At least he's not hitting his head against the wall again?

G'zarm hangs back. Something about having twenty-ish (and in some cases thirty-ish) Turns on nearly everyone else in attendance makes a man wary, no matter how randy his dragon's feeling. He's here, but he's not here, not in the sense of being fully invested in something. Not in the sense that Tianth is, the weather-beaten brown snaps his wings out with an audible snickt, sending his own flicker of rain out to join the silvery fall that envelops the lot of them. He's not as agile as once he was, nowhere near it, but his heart's in the right place, anyway. There's no effort spent (wasted!) on trying to woo the damp queen with words, just the growl in his throat that accompanies the surge of effort it takes to get himself up and after her. It won't take long for him to lag toward the back of the pack, poor fella.

Icosuth is apparently really good at VTOL, in the flight sense of the term and not in the insectoid sense, as he jets himself skywards after Ms. Glow-In-The-Rain, endlessly unfolding as if he's either rocket-powered or spring-loaded. (This doubtless makes up for how bad he is at barrel rolls.) Half the bronze's attention is on figuring out if Kouzevelth is flying with a pattern today; the other half is on being ~seductive~ with more of those nice oil-slick rainbows. This, of course, leaves most of his actual flying on autopilot, as it were, as — down below — W'mic manages to remember that he does actually have a flask on him, even if it hasn't been filled in quite some time, and wordlessly holds it out to Inri, offering. Just for her.

And away they go! Tovihasuth leaps after Kouzevelth with a sharp bugle, the laughter from the queen only serving to drive him onward. Eager winds whip at the flames of the queen's immolating mindscape, whistling across those lightning-lashed trees and spinning tendrils of fire in almost playful licks up and around into thin air. Yet for all his eagerness, he is focused, the lithe, energetic young bronze easily riding the rain-filled currents in his pursuit, darting here and there in avoidance of other chasers. Br'enn's eyes are fixed on Inri as if learning her as much as Tov is learning Kouzevelth…but her warning to Ha'ze is heard, makes him think. "She gonna try tearin' at them, then?" he questions, gesturing vaguely to the sky as his steadily intensifying blue gaze stays pinned to the goldrider.

Velokraeth is not put off by Kouzevelth's fire. If anything, he's encouraged by it! He has never balked at chasing any female, even the feistier ones (to which he would smugly boast are nothing but a worthwhile 'challenge'). Into the pens he soars and lands upon and beast, neatly and hurriedly blooding it dry before tossing it aside and lashing out for another. All the while, he keeps his rapidly whirling eyes on that orange-gold hide and, of course, on his competition. Age has tempered him with a sense of caution in large numbers like these. Some, like Dremkoth and Niumdreoth he remembers how they chase and so he marks and flags the newcomers Tianth and Draukaith and Icosuth and the young Kainaesyth and Tovihasuth as 'ones to watch out for'. Especially the bronzes he's partly to blame for siring! Kouzevelth is springing aloft all too soon and Velokraeth voices another warbling call as if to egg her on. Fly, fly lady of the storms! His wings flare and he surges aloft in pursuit, letting the younger bronzes and browns take the lead. He'll just… hang out back here. Meanwhile, Th'ero just swears and grumbles under his breath, fingers pushing back his soaked hair irritably as his eyes dart from rider to rider. Curt nods to Ha'ze, Br'enn, D'ani and Abigail, brief ones to W'mic, G'zarm and last of all T'revs, who receives a near growled. "Fort's duties to Monaco Bay." And then his thoughts scatter and pull back to focus on none other than Inri.

Abigail isn't too crazy when it comes to attention, when it comes to flights she is actually rather quiet during them, she doesn't take to talk much and doesn't tend to get close to the rider of the one that her dear dragon is chasing. She takes in a soft breath and looks to Inri, a soft smile is sent to her along with a wink. "It'll be alright." She offers with a soft tone to the goldrider, and yes she'll stay put there at Inri's side to keep away the others for now at least. She glances back to Ha'ze before she is looking out over the 'playing' field as it was to see whom else is there. Niumdreoth has little trouble draining the herdbeast that he got hold of, and is quick to grab hold of another, his mind forever gripped in that wintery scene. Thick tress dotting the edge of the a snowy field that has a slight fuzzy edge around it as if there is something just at the edge but it is never fully seen. As soon Kouzevelth is in the sky though the brown is tosses a beast away and leaping up into the sky with a few quick flaps of his wings until he is up in the air and ever following after that lovely gold hide.

Night skies also provides the perfect backdrop to those streaks of lightening and Dremkoth provides plenty of darkness in his mindtouch, that her fiery forks of electricity might shine even more brilliantly. His night breezes grow restless as he bloods twice more, leaden skies and heavy clouds blot out his stars while the rumble of thunder heralds a coming storm. He's just downed his fourth beast when Kouzevelth takes to the skies and he's leaping skyward after her, only remembering to drop the beast after three heavy wingbeats. Ahh - better! D'ani edges closer to Inri, his brown eyes trying - and shall we say failing - not to wander her soaked form. Wet clothes… he squeezes his eyes shut (like that's gonna help!) and rakes one hand through his hair while muttering a curse under his breath. Something about Dremkoth making it extremely difficult to remain decent.

Draukaith won't take long with the kill he has, soon enough he is working on another, and then a third though the third does not get fully drained as it seems the show is about to start. With a shift of his form, wings unfolding he is jumping upwards into the sky, large wings flapping and carrying him ever upwards as the chase starts. Deep rumbles and croons escaping the Monaco Bay bronze while he goes about taking in the 'playing' field to see how the other males act and how to set up his responses to such things. T'revs swallows and offers a nod to any greetings he gets back and settles near the edge of the 'group' at the moment. His rather comfortable there! His gaze is up on the sky following after the movement of the dragons there.

While the chasers measure one another up, Kouzevelth is doing the same: she takes an inventory, though it is truly all mental, as she isn't about to turn around and look at the other dragons. Why do that when she can keep on soldiering upward? The higher they go, the longer they fall, after all, and even now a sliver of her mind is on 'as many eggs as possible.' Much like Kainaesyth, she is well aware that her actions result in the lives of others, and that delights her. Some of her rainfall dusts Icosuth's oil slick, but that only serves to make it a brighter rainbow, caught up by her collection of Tovihasuth's wind: she can combine everyone and make it pretty, see? Does that make up for how heavy her wingbeats are and how far she travels in just one? Or for the lashing tail, barely missing somebody's snout? Whatever it is, it's making her rider a little queasy, apparently — Inri has to focus on keeping herself here and on the ground even while trying to keep Kouzevelth in check. After giving a silent smile to W'mic, as she accepts the flask, takes a sip and returns it, she offers Br'enn a wan smile. "Not on purpose," comes with a headshake. "She doesn't try to. She's just very long-and-spindly everywhere and that tail has smashed up faces before. Velokraeth's advice was wisely given. D'ani, what —" And then Inri actually figures out what he's doing and chooses not to humiliate him, instead reaching to try to squeeze his hand.

The nod that G'zarm returns to Th'ero is brief but speaks volumes when coupled to the way he inhales while sending it over, the way his eyes unfocus for a second and then wobble in his head, the way he blinks slowly as an accompaniment: Yep, after all these Turns, this still kinda sucks, don't it? But the brownrider has been wordless thus far, and there's no reason to go breaking such an impressive streak. It's raining on his face, his dragon has decided to chase a gold, and it's kinda chilly out here, come to think of it; what would there really be to say? Tianth is too focused for jabbering, pacing out each and every last wingbeat, meting them, measuring them, all too aware that his stamina is in limited supply. Even the added weight of a thin glaze of rainwater seems likely to tip the scales, and he goes from lagging to dragging, out-classed by the queen. He hangs in there just… a bit… longer… and the strain of it is written as much in the struggle of his wingbeats as the way his rider's jaw has tightened and his fists are clenched. And all that tension breaks when the brown gives up the ghost, wheeling away and veering through that rain toward the ground, a long, long, long way down after all that climbing.

That gets Ha'ze's attention, and he finally is directing his gaze somewhere, that somewhere being upwards. In this at least he can help his life mate, a lifetime of avoiding getting beaten at least helpful here. He'll watch and warn when Kainaesyth when that long tail comes too close, but really, Kainaesyth doesn't need it. No, he sores in the sky swirling in and out of the other flyers, sending actual encouragement to the others. Good turn there! Nice straight line! You got it man! Though in not so many words. No, Kainaesyth is the breezes that send desert scents scattering, the tiny specks of pollen drifting to new homes to begin the long process of procreation.

That would be Tovihasuth's snout that Kouzevelth barely misses, the young bronze banking sharply at a warning from Br'enn that reminds him also of Velokraeth's warning again. With a surprising burst of powerful wingbeats, he surges upward, ending up somewhere slightly behind, above, and to the queen's left, aiming to observe her from a higher angle. And as he watches, his mind is hard at work filtering through the fire of Kouzevelth's with eager, fiery intent of his own, his winds becoming heated and bearing tendrils of smoke streaming from the towering fortresses of a bolstered, inexorable mind. He's got this! Steer clear of anything whipping! Br'enn grumbles, shoving fingers through his hair as Tovihasuth's mind shifts again, pulling him in deeper. So strange, this sheer intent edged with lust that's weaving through him. He catches himself when he finds his gaze openly roaming the weyrwoman and curses under his breath, squeezing his eyes shut. "Weyrwoman…'m sorry…" Even though his logic knows he doesn't have to be. That particular part of his mind is fading fast.

Velokraeth continues to soar up and up after Kouzevelth, drifting now from the back of the pack to more of the middle. He threads his way almost casually and nonchalant like as though going for a leisurely stroll through the skies. It's a trick, of course. He's focused and he's determined and his cunningly seeking to throw off his competition by fooling them to think he's complacent (or a bit distracted). All the while too he keeps tabs of Kouzevelth, admiring her from afar and occasionally brushing her mind with the scent of sweet, honeyed wines, woodsmoke and spice and the salt-tang taste of the ocean. Down below, Th'ero shakes his head and grimaces, eyes narrowed against the rain but also the effects of his bronze on his thoughts. This is the part he dislikes, the gradual loss to his dragon's instinctual desires. He keeps his distance from Inri or… at least tries. No matter what, he seems to drift closer, one little restless step at a time.

Niumdreoth is use to dealing with the bronzes when it comes to this goldflights, his been put through his paces often enough so has a few tricks up his sleeves. His form drifts to the side slightly allowing others to move upwards ahead of him it would seem while his wings pull him every upwards. It doesn't take long for him to be near the pack once more, to the point that during the lash of a tail from Kouzevelth goes swinging past his head. Though instead of a negative response he rumbles out, a deep sound that carries across the air, lingering to some degree. His mindscene is the wintery forest once more, the trees seen from above this time as if someone was flying quickly across a thick forest, the sky has changed there are stars but there are also bright greens, blues and pinks dancing across them as flashes of lights. The more he gets into the flight, the brighter the flashes seem to be. Abigail on the other hand hisses a bit as she 'sees' that Niumdreoth comes close to a face full of a tail swipe. "Just stay in the sky dammit" She murmurs out softly, worry clinging to her voice.

Icosuth plays a waiting game, one of stamina; he aims to be second-or-third-in-line behind the queen for the majority of the flight, because that way he isn't quite close enough to get injured. And maybe it lowers his odds of winning, if someone makes an earlier break for it — but on the other hand, if he isn't going one hundred percent all-out from the very beginning, he's saved himself up some stamina for later, see? You gots to think about these things. Just — not while actually chasing, because chasing is the point where you have to see/act/impress without thinking so much that you slow down. And that's been his logic his entire life, and just don't ask him how many gold flights he's lost as a result. Steady and not particularly slow wins the race, amirite? And, meanwhile, down below, W'mic's flask seems to have wormed his way in to the semi-inner circle around Inri, and he stays put just within touching distance as he takes the flask back. Not crowding her, or at least not crowding her on purpose. See?

T'revs is letting his gaze shift from the sky to the ground and then back to the sky, though each time he does look down he catches himself looking at Inri, which he feels a touch badly about. Though the longer this goes on the more looks are going to given most certainly. Draukaith is there near the center of the group, if there even is a center left that is. His wings stretch out during each flap which carries him along quickly, though at a steady pace as well, he know to not put forth all his energy just yet having to keep some in the reserves in order to try and 'muscle' his way in later if the situation opens himself up for such an opening that his. « My dear we could much such lovely music together Just imagine it.. » He bugles out, soft croons caught as he works hard to get his presences known to Kouzevelth. The scent of the sea could almost be picked up as the toss and turn of it rolls through his mind, the crackle of lighting caught with a slight flash, and there is the rumble of thunder that echoes and then slowly ebbs away into nothing.

It is raining and, knowing Fort Weyr, likely quite chilly. D'ani, however, is feeling rather warm. In fact, that hand drops from his hair to the top button of his shirt, yanking it open at the throat as if in need of more air. The hand Inri reaches for, the other one, she'll find clenched in a fist but it opens readily for hers, fingers warm and secure. It's all he can do not to yank her up and into his arms. "Inri…" spoken roughly between tight lips, is both apology and desire. Damn you Dremkoth! The bronze, who at the moment, is having a grand time zipping along with everyone else, dodging that lashing tail like he's playing jump rope.

Kouzevelth must think it's time to switch things up, or maybe that she's made it high enough — because this is the point where she starts to turn, aiming to make a wide circle across the Weyrbowl. It's far enough that she and her merry band of chasers may in fact end up out of visual range to their lifemates; that or just very, very small. « You are all, » she encourages, voice amplified by thundercrack, electricity in the sky finding its way to becoming falling embers settling on Niumdreoth's winter, « lovely. » There is a lot more praise, a lot more urging, in the feeling behind the words than the words itself — she deigns to bother with speech at all, but the emotion is far from as simple. The emotion is all luring, teasing at loving, a little longer and a little further, that's all, see? And you — whoever you are — can have her. And eggs. Inri would almost be laughing at the mental display as she's receiving it but for how she's distracted by riders; guilty riders with no reason to be, for the most part. Except that she doesn't like being looked at right now, either. (When she isn't proddy? She does. What a curse. It's a very good thing to not crowd her.) "It's — you're fine. I understand." It might be for Br'enn, it might be for everyone. Grimly: "Thin shirt, my mistake." Rainfall: she should've expected it.

And, again: Icosuth isn't actually the very best there is at Fancy Flying, but he's got good endurance. And smarm — definitely a more-than-healthy dose of smarm, with all those smarmy rainbows that suit Kouzevelth's thunderstorms so very well. In a word, as he stretches out his neck and aims to sprint himself a little closer now, finally, he's strutting. And down below? Well, this is the point where W'mic's gaze on Inri's too-thin shirt has stuttered to a halt for a few seconds, before he remembers himself (and, doubtless, the fact that he's almost-if-not-quite old enough to be her father, but who's counting where gold flights are concerned?) and pulls off his jacket and awkwardly almost-drapes it around her shoulders, where it's not quite forced on her, so much as… really thoroughly offered.

Tovihasuth is becoming more and more wrapped up in the lusting side of the chase, the need to catch from instinct beginning to outweigh the need to catch from desire to overcome a challenge. « Not as lovely as you, » is his simple and understated return, the normally young cant to his mindvoice darkening to something decidedly more mature as his mental winds continue their attempt to twine with the licks of flame within Kouzevelth's mind. Br'enn hears Inri's answer, and nods, but a hand is almost perpetually scrubbing at his face, as he gradually loses his willpower to remain facing away from the goldrider. It's a good thing he opted for those shorts and something sleeveless; he's starting to feel as though he's burning up. Eventually, however, it's unavoidable - it's a distinctly lust-darkened gaze that turns back on Inri, even though he doesn't consciously move toward her. Like the others, a restless shuffling toward her is beyond his control.

Kainaesyth needs no urging to continue this dance, as his joy intwines with Kouzevelath's the vines slowly creeping upwards on the canyon walls. Rain breeds growth, add a little sunlight breaking through, as the mesquite trees slowly grow their dangling seed pods growing every larger and firmer. (there's a penis joke in there somewhere…) CLoser and closer his dance brings him to that gold, though the sharp pain of her tail flicking across his chest brings a moment of hesitation… but no, adversity, yes? "Now wait a f*kin…" Ha'ze bites his togune as Kainaesyth's pain sings down to him, his hand moving to his shoulder in sympathetic response. Nope, not looking at Inri. His mind is getting lost in Kainaesyth's joy and it is HARD to keep his resolve in place.

Velokraeth's mind stretches out again in a ripple of mirth and laughter, echoed by his warbling call that is all but washed out by wind and rain. He takes his cues from Kouzevelth and will gradually begin to fly just that much faster, that much stronger with the strokes of his wings as he weaves across the skies. Catching thermals when he can, minding the competition and doing his best not to drift too close to any of them OR Kouzevelth's long tail. He may not remember but his rider does and there's enough filtering through the link that isn't entirely consumed by the flight to remind him. So he bides his time and conserves his strength and waits, while drinking in everything Kouzevelth has to offer.

Niumdreoth is doing well during the flight, though there is a soreness, an ache in his wing that is starting to be felt which is making him slow down slightly at the moment. His mind is on the price, the end results and even though he is one of the few browns here among the pack of bronzes he is doing his best to make it to the end at least. His winter swallows up the embers, during the glowing falling bits into what looks like fireflies across his dark wintery sky. Stars twinkle and slowly fade while the colorful lights continue to flash and slide across his mind. He finds himself closer to Kouzevlth, soft croons escaping him while he shifts to the side attempting to push his way a bit closer to the gold if able. Though with his track record some bronze is going to shove him backwards any moment now. Abigail winces slightly, her hand moving to settle upon her right shoulder as there is an ache, and she knows where it is coming from, a worried look is resting upon Niumdreoth.

Inri could be draped head to toe in a canvas tent and D'ani would still behold her as, "Lovely…" he blurts out and yep, this time he's blaming Kouzevelth for putting that in Dremkoth's mind and the bronze bleeding over into his (not that it wasn't there all along even before anyone glowed or chased). He flicks W'mic a grateful look, for that jacket shields Inri from the stares of others, whom D'ani would like to smash with that fist he'd… ohhhh flights! Gotta love 'em! Dremkoth remains silent verbally but mentally his landscape is a riot of streaks and flashes, howling wind, driving rain and echoing thunder rolls. He's saving his wooing for later, intent on maneuvering to the best possible position he can…

Draukaith rumbles out with a eagerness as he takes the praise from Kouzevlth. « It is a pleasure to hear such words from you. Though you are more lovely then any of us. You are a ray of sunshine falling across a great sea, such colors you cast across it's surfaces.. » His attempting to be a poet? Who knows with this bronze. His words are heard, but his crooning and bugles continue as he follows the chase, diving this way and turning that way managing to avoid any lashes of that tail for the moment. His mindscene turns into a raging storm; crackles of lighting dance across the sky while the waves crash and slam into one another. His managed to get closer now, resting behind another bronze, and he can see that glowing hide ever so close to him Nearly there! T'revs is inching closer to the group, little gaggle of riders here, hopefully no one will starting elbowing, or the like cause then it could get well interesting.

"I told you not to hit anybody!" Inri calls out from the ground, even as she's letting herself be wrapped in W'mic's jacket. Truly, she's grateful. She's just annoyed that the tail actually hit someone, when we'd been doing so well. The goldrider curls up in on herself a little more, ever grateful for Abbey and D'ani, gratitude in expression delivered upon the owner of the jacket. The annoyance might be enough, though it's likely that it's all wrapped up in timing: as Kouzevelth leads the group back toward where their riders stand, she does seem to be tiring a bit. It's been a long couple of days, and the problem with having Big Big Wings can be that they take Big Big Energy, which blooding just doesn't cut it for. So, yes — she is slowing, now, and it's clear Inri can tell, as she looks just slightly more like nervous prey than the collected rider she's been trying to be.

Ha'ze can't help it anymore, and finally he does turn around to look at Inri. Probably a good thing she's wearing that jacket though. No steps forward, he's still stubborn enough for that. A weird smile is crossing his face though, Kainaesyth's joy infusing Ha'ze. His shoulders slowly relax from their hunched and his curled fists undo. Kainaesyth senses that faltering, the ebbing of energy. « Love, a bit longer, but soon, » gentle encouragement drips upon her fires, his gentle rainstorm soothing the angry flames. Closer he'll come, heedless of that flicking tail, to maybe, just maybe, twine with her to create something new.

The chased becoming tired is a definite advantage, and Tovihasuth can now sense it happening. Swerving downward and between a few of his competitors, the young bronze becomes little more than a bright streak for a moment, slipping closer with dizzying speed in a bid to reach out and tangle his tail and wings with hers. « Come, » is nearly whispered. « Let me carry you home. » And so much more besides. Br'enn simply grits his teeth and waits in silence, wavering on his feet as Tovihasuth wraps around his mind almost entirely, the thrill of the speed of flight and the lust of the pursuit snapping sparks across his nerves and through his blood. Where is his mind going? It's a fleeting wonder he'll puzzle over and accept later. Right now…his bronze is him.

Velokraeth senses that change in Kouzevelth as well and gathers the last of his strength for the final push ahead in this merry hunt! « A glorious chase you have led! » he praises her, another grin implied and laughter swiftly following on those golden and honeyed wine hued ripples of his mind. But all chases come to an end and her's is rapidly descending from all directions. The time is now and Velokraeth surges ahead, reckless now in burning off all that precious energy he had stored. Not that it matters now! Either he succeeds in out maneuvering his competition and snaring the gold first or slipping in unseen to snatch her away like a cunning thief or he ends up with empty talons and bitter disappointment. He knows the risks, he's played this game and the thrill of the chance to claim her spurs him on! Just a little more, a little farther… Down below, Th'ero inhales sharply, almost hissing his breath through his clenched teeth as they grit together but by the time he exhales, his whole body relaxes and the fight seems to have drained out of him. His eyes, darkened by flight lust, focus now on Inri as intently as Velokraeth locks on to Kouzevelth and the other riders are forgotten. He doesn't sidle up to the goldrider quite yet but he is gradually shuffling that way again, likely bumping shoulders with others but ignoring it.

Icosuth likes big tails, and he cannot lie; those other dragons can't deny when Kouzevelth flies by with her neon-glowing waist and a long tail in their face — well, in Dremkoth's face, anyway, and formerly in Kainaesyth's chest, for that matter, and what was he talking about again? Oh, right, how much he wanted to catch Kouzevelth and twine his tail with hers. Main problem: someone else creeping up on that lovely whippy tail's flightspace. Time to clear it! Down below, of course, this would be the fateful point where W'mic's head whips up to the dragons above — ignoring how well his jacket is or isn't covering Inri's wet-tshirt-draped breasts — and he half-hisses, half-shouts "Ico! No!" (Too late.)

Draukaith has been biding his time, waiting for that moment where he could perhaps sneak in and gain some inches, some room and when he sees an opening he'll take it as quickly as he can. The bronze is there, slipping in and a soft croon escaping him while his frontpaws reach out in a grab tot ry and pull Kouzevelth closer to him, and away from the other chasers. « I wish to show you the stars. You would add such beauty to them. Such songs yet to be sung. » That storm in his mind has quieted, flashes of lighting dance across the sky, between stars which make up different patterns that are also seeable upon the surface of the water at times between the waves. T'revs has found himself in the thick of the ground and he can't even remember /going/ that close. Still there are people between him and Inri, which honestly he is alright with.. So far and he knows it, so close just a flight of a wing, or turn of movement to get to the end now.

Dremkoth's got to do more than catch that lashing tail - he knows he's got to snag Kouzevelth because, he too, can sense how tired she is. So he's aiming to dodge the tail and sneak past it without getting smacked and knocked out of the race. The bronze zigs upwards to avoid it with a mighty surge of his wings — and someone else zags — Icosuth is in the airspace Dremkoth was headed for. Ooops? He should've used his blinker, eh? At any rate, the wings his are fouled with are bronze, not gold and the tail… ah no. He's not even attempting to twine that one, thanks! With a sputter of surprise that turns into a yelp of pain, the sound of wingsails snapping awkwardly and the dull thump of muscled flesh colliding, the image of a stormy sky pales to a blood red dawn of pain and disappointment. As Dremkoth flails for both clear airspace and an attempt not to crash into the jagged rock below, D'ani inhales sharply, allowing Inri's hand to slip from his as he reaches for his dragon, willing him to make it safely to the ground.

People closing in on Inri: inevitable, but kind of bad. Dragons closing in on Kouzevelth: expected, but that doesn't mean she's pleased. Tianth's departure earlier gained a mournful-but-soft bugle, her heartbreak only very minor as she has so many quality suitors, but — it's there. What she was not expecting was her prior favorite mate's sudden disqualification; that is met with disapproval enough that Kouzevelth is thrown off course and into the waiting talons of none other than first-time chaser Tovihasuth. Is it Velokraeth's blood, Kayeth's, or just this particular clutch with the newbie bronzes winning golds? Who. Knows. All Kouzevelth knows is that she is satisfied, that his verbal entreaty is met with one of hers, a cool, « You may. » Inri — was jarred by Icosuth and Dremkoth's collision, heart suddenly in her mouth for the safety of both dragons, and it's eclipsed by the moment of the catch. She's obviously disoriented, looking first to D'ani and then to W'mic, but eventually her eyes settle on Br'enn, who she intuitively walks toward, aiming to curl her arms about his neck and see where that takes her. Hopefully he's finished trying not to look?

The suddenness of the ending shocks Ha'ze, how quickly the winner is chosen and he is free… except he's not free. Kainaesyth's joy is undimished by being the loser, and he spirals about in the sky his not quite melodic song he sings when he enters a new sky ringing out above the falling pair. If he cannot create tonight, then it is left to someone else, that someone else having to be Ha'ze. There will be no fleeing, no dunking into a cold lake to shake off the feelings, no, Kainaesyth demands only one outcome from this. Thus it is that while Inri is intent on Br'enn Ha'ze's eyes seek out the only other female here, Abigail's. Steps forward he makes, his mind overwhelmed with Kainaesyth's joy and demands to reach a helpless hand out to Abigail. Will she come with him?

And everyone, no doubt, is thankful that Dremkoth manages to refrain from trying to twine tails with Icosuth — not least of all the other bronze, or his rider, by any means. Maybe there's a half-second when W'mic's gaze meets D'ani's; if so, W'mic's eyes are filled with a sort of guilty sorrow. But mostly he, too, is too busy being concerned over making sure his dragon a) isn't injured too badly and b) makes it down safely to be fussed over — too busy, in fact, to even worry about what's going to happen to his favorite riding jacket, when Br'enn doesn't want it to hide Inri's breasts any longer. As for later? Well, sooner or later he's bound to find someone to comfort him in his time of oppression and goldflights, right? If nothing else, he can always go back to the drinking he'd been planning to do when Icosuth first caught wind of Kouzevelth's neon "come get me!" sign impersonation.

Niumdreoth was slowing more and more and when the two bronze crashed into one another he had no choice but to dive to the side to escape any chance of him possibly getting roped into it as well. Another anger rumble runs through his form, though it is quickly gone much like before. He is mad at himself for allowing such a distance between him and the end, still his in one piece and his rider is at easy over the fact that he is well. Emotions are still raw though, a need lingering though that hangs in the air between dragon and rider during such a moment and while he is left lonely there is no need for his rider to be if she so chooses such things. The sound of dragons crashing into one another is a smack to her, enough she looks away from the end of the flight towards the dragons in question, and is only able to relax once knowing they are alright. She turns slightly, stepping out of Inri's way for certain now and during that she catches the looks from Ha'ze, and her gaze lingers on his for what seems like forever. Her hand takes hold of his, fingers curl with his. Yes it seems she will indeed go with him.

Tovihasuth's exuberant victory echoes throughout the Bowl in a near-deafening brass bugle as he wraps himself up with Kouzevelth, holding fast and secure as they fall and twine in body and mind, his breezes swirling to contain the flames within and catch them up with him. Br'enn is most definitely done trying not to look; he was not long ago, a surge of confidence coursing through him as Tovihasuth made his move. Steps no longer restless or halting, the bronzerider strides forward to meet Inri and catches her arms up around his neck with a strangled groan, lips seeking hers as Tovihasuth's catch pulls the full measure of his own lust to the fore. Pulling her against him, he moves, instinct leading him to take them away. From the others. Hopefully from the rain. Somewhere far more private, for certain.

Velokraeth was almost there! But Dremkoth's collision distracts him and he is swinging away to avoid tangling with either bronze and wind up a second (or third?) victim. By then Tovihasuth has staked his claim and the pale bronze can only huff his disappoint and growl low in his throat. Foiled again! At least this time he didn't end up blinded by Kouzevelth's tail and take out Niumdreoth in the process? With strength fading and no desire to keep the skies now that the flight is won by another, Velokraeth banks and turns away, gliding on a gradual decent back towards his ledge where he'll go an nurse his disappointment. Which means… Th'ero snaps out of the flight lust just enough to lurch a bit on his feet and back away, dimly aware of how close he is to Inri and the other riders. Scrubbing at his face, there's no mistaking the look of frustration and disappointment but those expressions are brief. His thoughts turn to another too, though she is back in his weyr. No need to dawdle and the Weyrleader is gone, the first steps stumbling before gradually gaining steadiness and speed. Woe to anyone who gets in his way! They'll likely get snapped at or shoved aside.

Draukaith was close; he was there, well somewhere but in the end no he was left unable to take hold of anything but air. A deep bugle escapes him while his wings carry him on past the others, he is left soaring to the side and turning to head towards a spot in order to land in order to gather up his rider and head homewards. T'revs isn't actually looking at anyone, nope, he is slipping off once it is seen that his dragon was clear he wouldn't be taking a win. Once he meets up with his dragon they will be heading homewards that is for certain.

Dremkoth wobbles to the ground, landing rather less gracefully than he did awhile ago, but not crashing, so likely nothing's broken. Still the bronze is in pain and there might be a laceration or two. D'ani's eyes are for his lifemate only - thankfully, though he knows there was a winner and it wasn't himself - he doesn't witness the pair. He's busy running to meet and comfort Dremkoth, guide him to the infirmary and see about some numbweed. Somewhere in there he'll meet W'mic's look, shrug and shake his head in a 'nah-man, these things happen' sorta way. He does eye the skies for the man's dragon, checking to see if he at least made it to the ground; later he'll check up on him more thoroughly. Inri… he'll see in the office… eventually. Hopefully the dragonhealers have some whiskey amongst their medicines.