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Post by Alsivor on Oct 23, 2008 6:21:50 GMT -8
Light all around, light dancing off of hides, but most especially /hers/. Serienth never tired of the chase and Kalpeth was leading them a fun one. Blindly she headed into the sun and he narrowed his eyes against its glow, to catch her shadow in amongst Rukbat's dying rays. There? Maybe. Either way she was following the sun, so he followed it too, because where it went, there she would most likely be. Brown wings stretched wide to catch a gust of wind, to lift him a little higher within the pack, then he put on a little burst of speed, trying to break away, to cast himself almost willy nilly into the sun's path and hopefully Kalpeth's, every sense extended for her.
Y'vor leaned back against the wall, breathing in and out as steadily as he could. It was an increasing struggle though, as it always was. Things were coming to a point and Serienth was going all or nothing as he often did. The brownrider's hand caught in the collar of his robe, trailed downward as he caught a wave of heat, not just sun-driven from his brown. He pushed his spine hard into the wall, feet bracing against the onslaught, letting it wash through him. He'd learned long ago it was better to just try to enjoy it than to fight it.
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Post by Slim on Oct 23, 2008 22:05:28 GMT -8
Getting lost was never pleasant, but it became even less so when you got lost on your way to a flight weyr. The bluerider whom S'lyn had been chatting with proved kind enough to give him a lift down to G'tet's weyr - only G'tet wasn't there. Only after blindly asking around with the wing had they hunted down someone who'd been with G'tet when the whole flight started (or rather, that person's dragon) and by a whole abstracted process of rider to dragon to other dragon to his rider to their flight-addled wingleader whose dragon was busy did S'lyn finally, finally arrive in the right weyr.
Tugging his cuffs to restore some sense of outer propriety, the bronzerider strode into the weyr. He glanced around quickly, not caring so much who was here as where he could sit, and immediately redirected his course to a small ottoman in the corner. His eyes closed and he yielded his thoughts up to his dragon, coasting along in Josteth's wake.
But not for long, apparently. With the slight shade provided by his rival's body, Chadath spied Serienth making a move - but not until Serienth was well into the maneuver. Too late, in other words, to intercept him and bull him off-course, as Chadath was often wont to do. Having exhausted his patience with stratagems after the single maneuver to steal Josteth's shadow, Chadath buckled down and put his trust in sheer muscle, heaving his huge wings and tightening his legs to cut down the drag. He flew blind again, trusting to Kalpeth's fixation with the sun to keep her on course, and him powering up that course as fast as he could.
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