Fort Weyr - Traveler's Forest North
Deep in the Fortian woods the air takes on a pure, unspoiled scent. Majestic, evergreen pines tower above you, nearly cutting off the view of the skies, and from the high canopy, a constant gentle rain of petals, leaves and pine needles falls no matter the time of day or season. The silence is broken only by an occasional rustling of foliage, an indefinable call or the distant flutter of wings. The ruins of an ancient building remain in the twisted growth of the forest that has long since taken it over, so passers by could only catch rare glimpses of rock sticking out of the growth that has consumed it. It's so easy to get lost here. To lose track of time, lose yourself or even lose your way.

Spring was wet and the summer is proving to be the opposite! Too much of the opposite. Not so much as to cause severe droughts but it's certainly dry. A storm has just rolled by but brought with it too little rain. It was quite the light show which is, what everyone will assume, started it all. Sweepriders from Thunderbird were dispatched not long after the storm had passed and moments later a green is appearing from Between, her thoughts ringing with as much alarm as her bugle. « Fires to the north! In the forests! » So much for peace and calm in the Weyr? The little green lands by the ledges of the Star Stones, shifting nervously and agitatedly from foot to foot as she bugles again.

Kimmila and Varmiroth are some of the first to respond, blue and rider soaring up towards the Star Stones to hover. « Where? » the blue asks, his thoughts open, wanting a destination point so they can between.

Niumdreoth had been settled high and is waiting for word from the riders and dragons sent out to see about what may be going on. As the green appears and the warning is let out he joins in the warning bugles and calls the rest of the wing to order. The large brown turns dropping down and is moving to his ledge where Abigail is quick to gather a few things before the two heading out towards the Star Stones to join in with the others. Niumdreoth rumbles out to the blue and green, the question is asked so he does not answer it again. Abigail looks to Kimmila offering her a nod before she looks to the green and her rider.

Mirinda's had the unfortunate experience of having already been in the forest, rather than called by emergency to be there — she wasn't near the flame at first, though. She simply started to smell it, and as a result walked in that direction; it's not likely the Healer will be much help compared to a wing of dragons, but at present she doesn't quite know that. What she does know is that she thought now would be a good time to go gather medicinal plants, and lo and behold it really wasn't. She hadn't anticipated a fire as big as was in front of her, and so instead of doing much of anything she waits, wrapping her shawl around her face to prevent from too much smoke inhalation, in case the dragonriders … actually need anything from someone on the ground. Triage, perhaps.

The little green shares the image easily with Varmiroth and Niumdreoth, expecting them to send it outwards to the other dragons who answer the summons. « North! » she elaborates. « Not near major holdings but Zhirazoth says the winds aren't favouring us. He and the others are trying to contain it. » But they are not enough! Which is why she came here to rouse the alarm. While it can't be seen easily from the ground, once all are airborne there IS considerable smoke rising towards the north. Her job done, the green pushes aloft again, joining Niumdreoth and Varmiroth before vanishing Between…

… and reappearing above where Mirinda is likely monitoring that very fire. Her shadow will swoop over the Healer as she soars after her Wingmates already struggling to keep the fire from spreading further. Zhirazoth, two browns and a blue are already in the thick of things, with the young and flashy bronze predictably getting TOO close. He's likely had several close calls already before Mr'az's managed to rein him in a little and at this rate… Mirinda may have a patient soon. Or some really suspenseful observing?

Varmiroth is swift to follow the green towards the fire, swooping higher and hovering while Kimmila lifts her goggles to get the lay of the land. "There," she says to her dragon, pointing. "There we need to start digging for a fire line. Tell Thunderbird."

The information is passed between Niumdreoth to Abigail before she is sening out more 'calls' with Nium to the others in the wing to get them moving out to send aid as well. Niumdreoth is then following after the other's Between and appears above the area where the fire is. Abigail takes in a soft breath as she takes in the area. "Bloody mess.." Is murmured out while Niumdreoth soars overhead taking in the area and a plan is quickly getting made on how to go about dealing with this. Zhirazoth's movements are caught. « Get your head back into what is at hand! There is /no/ time for slip ups! » Fire burns, burns are bad!

Mirinda does not, in fact, look pleased by the low flying dragon — it's her instinct to call out, "WATCH OUT, YOU'RE KIND OF LOW," even though she is sure (accurately!) that his Wingleader has everything under control. She doesn't even know the name of either rider or dragon, though she may be able to place Mr'az's face in a setting less involved with smog and flame and other obscurants. Just outside where a fire line would logically go, she's rummaging through the bag she has and is removing everything that it would make sense to remove: water, towels, listening tube. Now is one of those times where she sincerely wishes she had a firelizard to send a request for more supplies; she really needs to get around to finding an egg to purchase.

« We won't slip up! » Zhirazoth smugly boasts despite the seriousness of the situation and by "we" he, of course, means himself. Varmiroth's suggestion of the fireline is met with a surge of ocean and storm scented winds. « Excellent idea! Who has it covered? The winds are picking up again — oop! » The bronze circles too high, his wing tip grazing too close again to the fires and he has to focus on twisting away less he gets singed. He snorts and though Mr'az's face is covered his posture shows considerable tension. The hand signals he makes next come seconds before Zhirazoth broadcasts out again. « Give us the word and we'll seek out water. There must be a lake nearby? » Betweening with it is not an option.

Varmiroth swoops down as he himself directed, and begins to pull at trees, yanking them from their roots and tossing them aside as he starts to build a wide fire break in the hopes of preventing the fire from traveling further. « There is a lake to the east, but how will you carry the water? » the weyr really should have massive water buckets on hand for this sort of thing.

Niumdreoth doesn't think that Zhirazoth is going to not slip up at this rate but he is a bit busy working out where to go for that fireline. Well Abigail is at least. "There.. get them to go there." Is quickly said. Water would be good, but how indeed would it be carried out here. « Hides could be used like bags… Filled with water and dropped. » If no buckets are found that is, and if there are such bag hides already made. If not the fireline will have to work.

Giant dragon sized buckets? Huge ones designed to be held in talons? No one has done this yet? Mirinda would be disappointed, given the chance, and might someday get around to making a comment. Once she's undone all of her bag and gotten things ready in case of impending disaster, her focus shifts to watching Varmiroth and any company that joins him: this is new. This is a dragon pulling trees out of the ground to make, essentially, a giant dirt circle. Very intriguing. Possibly also distracting. No one die.

« There are ways! » Zhirazoth replies smugly to Varmiroth but does not dare lead the charge and waits on Niumdreoth's word. « Such hides are available! Mine knows where to go. Just say the word! » And they'll be gone and back in a flash! Too quickly. Is the bronze timing it? Maaaaybe! Poor Mirinda is going to get A LOT more than she bargained for too because where does Zhirazoth go with these large hide-like contraptions? Why, right where the Healer is! Luckily for her, he's polite enough to drop them off and NOT squish her. Neither will the dragons zeroing in on her so much as stir up a bit of hot air as they swoop in to grab the material. Zhirazoth wants to be in the thick of things again and will leave Varmiroth and the other smaller, nimbler dragons to do the dirty work (ha ha, literally!). « Keep it up! » he encourages to all, while winging eastward as one of the first to attempt at water bombing the fire above.

Varmiroth ignores everyone else, his full focus on the task at hand. Tearing up trees and tossing them aside, he and the other dragons work on a fifty foot wide break in vegetation, moving from the mid-point of the fire and in both directions, trying to encompass it. « Watch for spot fires, » the blue calls, as rising embers can drift and start other fires.

Niumdreoth turns sweeping down to help with digging up some of the forest while others are off to get the hides for the water. « Do it, bring back as many as you can! The sooner we get it the better! » Dragons are all over working at the fireline, the sooner it is made the better! The large brown is able to do a good amount of digging while the others are going after trees and the like. Though the smaller dragons are indeed more for this task and once Zhirazoth is back he is off and the hides are grabbed. « Fill them and get back with them quickly. Watch out for any new areas that could be starting from the rising embers! »

It's not an overly large fire and while it continues to consume the patch of forests it originated in, it's progress is slowed by the hard work put in by that fireline. What also helps is the winds die down again and stay down. Varmiroth and Niumdreoth's calls for attentiveness to any spot fires and embers improve the chances as well. Now all that's left are the still 'live' flames and while most are now dying out due to their fuel source being consumed, the danger hasn't quite passed even if ample time has. It's hard (and hot!) work, firefighting and Mirinda will have company soon enough on the ground as the first of the dragons begin to tire out or have to retreat from too much exposure to heat and smoke (same goes for the riders). Water will be needed too and likely more ground crew are drawn in.

Meanwhile, Zhirazoth returns with those two browns from earlier, each grabbing hold of the large hide-like contraption that is now bulging with water. « See? There are ways! » The bronze boasts again as the trio begin to coordinate a fly-by overhead and when to time the drop. They fly in well and they time the drop to start near the heart of the fire but well away from those digging. It's as they go to soar away that things go awry. Zhirazoth has brought them too close and when one of the browns feels heat too close for comfort against his underside he panics and breaks formation to blink Between and reappear at a safer distance. It leaves the other brown unable to hold on, letting his grip slide as he veers away and leaving Zhirazoth with the awkward hide-bucket flapping under him. It forces him to falter and drop and then it snags a still burning tree, sending a shower of sparks and searing heat upwards. The bronze has just enough time to bellow in shock and pain before he's vanished (safely) Between…

Varmiroth pauses in his work to roar his concern after Zhirazoth, but as the bronze is not lost between, the blue quickly returns to his duties. As does Kimmila, though the bluerider is muttering under her breath. Something about 'reckless'…

There will be words with Zhirazoth later, that is if there is a later at this rate! Niumdreoth was not that far behind the bronze, he is carrying a small hide filled with water as he is on his own. The flare up is noted but not soon enough.. A rather loud roar escapes the brown as the heat meets him, sparks fly, skin is burnt an he twists to the side dropping the hide as a result where it will slams into the ground and burst open to wet the ground. Niumdreoth and Abigail disappear Between, and when they come back it is over a different part of the forest with the brown heading downwards, still airborne at least and no worry about crashing.

Not being hit by anything falling from the sky is a definite plus as far as Mirinda is concerned, though she's carefully sidestepping in the other direction just in case. As soon as riders start dropping out, the Healer starts fussing — and in between cleaing off faces and taking vital signs, is taking the liberty to not quite order, but heavily request, as much drinkable water as possible. One of the dragonriders can surely pass that on, yes? She's a bit of a stickler for safety, and riders with more bravado are going to be unhappy when Mirinda says that pulse is just too high to go back into the fray.

Zhirazoth's middle name is Reckless. They should know this by now! He's also going to have A LOT of explaining to do if he's behind Niumdreoth getting singed too. Nothing like putting your own Wingleader in danger to put a dampener on what is otherwise a successful bought of firefighting! Slowly but surely the fire is dying. They caught it in time and so long as they're careful and alert it will be out by the day's end and completely cooled and done over the next few days.

As for the flashy, brash bronze… Zhirazoth reappears above where the other dragons have pulled back. He lands heavily, looking abashed and his ego smarting — or maybe that's his hide and wing. One furls properly to his side, the other doesn't quite close and keeps twitching as if irritated and he favours that same side and limb. Mr'aze was luckily wearing his face mask and riding leathers and aside from some ash and char on his gear he's unscathed. Which says little about his mood as he dismounts. His concern for now is to Zhirazoth but the bronzerider isn't stupid either… he knows full well he'll have to answer to someone.

Tired and finished, Varmiroth and Kimmila retreat to a safe distance to rest while other dragons take over tending the fireline.

Abigail is actually waiting for Mr'az to land.. She is not a happy Wingleader at the moment, not to mention she got a close call and was able to come away with a few burns herself. Niumdreoth is rumbleing out his thoughts to Zhirazoth while just eyeing the bronze with a 'I told you' sort of look! That is /two/ dragons down from the wing thansk to his movement. The talk that is coming will surly burn Mr'aze's ears enough that the bronze might feel it as well.. The rest of the wing deals with the fire for now most certainly.