Ali's Graduation

[[logged by Ali]]

Ali
Whisps trip forward, barely brushing in wide, dark eyes, almost cinnamon in hue, which are thickly framed with ebony lashes. Pert nose is centered between a pair of always rosy cheeks, complimented by carmine lips. Sable locks are tightly plaited together, complete with orange and black ribbons, into a french braid style that ends several fingerwidths above her shoulders. Her height has finally peaked, leaving her at just over 5', 5'1 to be exact, but the gentle curves that flow across her form detract from her smallness, showing that she is, in fact, leaving her childhood behind.
Blue and purple.. perfect colors for Ali, right? A soft lavender shirt rests on her shoulders, the almost silky fabric hugging her tight and tucked into the waist band of her pants. The pants, made of soft leather in a deep blue hue, hug from her waist to her ankles as a second skin, showing off maturing hips. Points all along them allow for attaching anything that she may find vitally important to have during threadfall, and the belt has hook points for the saddle. They are tucked in the knee high boots, made of tough purple werehide and laced with dyed leather lacings of a light blue. Her jacket hangs down mid-thigh, almost a duster length as it flows with her every step, the blue waterproof fabric keeping out the rain, wind, and even the chill of between as it hugs her protectively.
Orange and black cords twist together, encircled by the single thread of brown representing Uillauth, forming the single looping knot that shows her rank as a Weyrling Rider of Ista Weyr.
Ali is 18 Turns, 7 months, and 24 days old.

Uillauth
Earthy hues settle onto his body, monotonous hide of rocky hue gradually transformed into lush beauty as it sweeps down muscled chest and legs. Sunlight clings closely to his slight mass, turning matte brown into glittering mahogany where rays outline bulky weight with brilliance. Spars of obsidian black fall against his neck, arrowing down into relentless chestnut coloring of his wide back between wingsails. Obsidian also are the jeweled tones that have gathered atop lofty headknobs and trace the jagged outlines of his eyeridges. His muzzle may well have been carved, more apparent in the angular planes that reside as cheekbones and the still unfinished craggy 'ridges that spike from his back, eroded eventually into a slender tail. Amidst these rough outlines, wings blossom into surprisingly dainty sheets of autumn hues, lined by charcoal veining.
Thick, gleaming straps of deep crimson stretch across the rocky hue of shoulders and wrapping comfortably around his large chiseled form. White padding, protecting the soft hide from chaffing and discomfort, is attached to the underside of the straps with the same even stretch of silver thread that lines each side of the well tested, well oiled straps. Various places are marked with tripled stitching to make the straps more secure in places that receive the most strain. Stitched into the center of the straps in orange and black is the insignia of Ista Weyr.
Uillauth is 2 Turns and 20 days old.
He is 64 feet (19m) long, with a wingspan of 106 feet (32m).

C'ran
Upon looking at C'ran, attention is immidiately drawn to his eyes. Within the bright sapphire orbs glow a warm inviting fire that proclaims this rider to be your best friend and worthy of your trust and admiration. Below, a small nose is proportional to a pair of lips often set in a mischivious smile, one that speaks of a desire to play. Rounding out the picture, a full head of coppery red hair cascades down about his face. Much to his dismay, those shining locks never remain quiescent, blowing across his face or falling into his eyes at the worst moment. For all his prescence, the man is short of stature, having grown to a height of 5'6" and no heigher. Small or not, its still no stranger to work with a well muscled lean grace, every movement fluid and confident.
Cobalt-blue sets off C'ran's remarkable eyes in the form of a thick wherhide jacket, adding breadth to his lithe form and protecting him from the cold of Between. A suede panel at the jacket's front draws the eye from a high, stiff collar to a wide leather belt, interrupted by a row of four silver clasps. Wiry legs are coated in the same blue 'hide, from snug trousers that wrinkle slightly at the knees to the thick knee-high boots that guard his feet.
C'ran is 35 Turns and 19 days old.

Celth
Dangerously bright ceruleans blast across this dragon's brilliant hide in widely sweeping strokes of color. Pale ice blue darkens down the slope of his neck and shoulder, descending to the deep blue of ocean along his belly and tail. Flurries of white swirl across the parchment of his translucent wingsails and freckle his back in a passing game of connect-the-dots. Slim and energetic, he tends to swagger as he moves quickly from place to place, inspecting anything that happens to catch his scintillating, far too lively eyes.
Pulled tight against Celth's back is a pair of strong dark leather straps lined with what looks like very soft fuzzy furr. Pressed into the straps is the flaming orange and midnight black insignia of Ista Weyr.
Celth is 13 Turns, 6 months, and 9 days old.
He is 56 feet (17m) long, with a wingspan of 93 feet (28m).


C'ran rests upon a small ledge, relaxing in the moonlight, peering over the waterfall basin. Such is the noise from the falls that he's not yet aware of your approach.

Ali slithers down Uillauth's side, landing ever-so-lightly on the ground beside him. Once she's steady, she lifts a hand and runs her fingers through her hair, straightening the locks after the short flight over. "Good evening," she calls out, moving toward C'ran.

C'ran turns his head with a little suprise "Ali? Is that you?" he's fairly sure he recognizes the voice. "Good evening, and pleased to see you out here."

"It was a long day," Ali explains softly as she adjusts her riding jacket, not yet sure whether she should remove it or leave it on, depending on the wind. "'lauth and I thought it might be a good time to just relax and get away from the noise up and about the caverns."

C'ran gives a long stretch before tilting himself over to the side and sitting up, leaving his legs swinging from the ledge. He almost looks like a big kid. "Ah, perhaps here may not be the wisest place to have come then. I'm glad to see you, but I've something not particularly relaxing to discuss with you."

"Oh?" Ali raises an eyebrow, a rather grown up motion for a girl that arrived at the weyr at the ripe old age of just over 16 turns. But, she's grown up quite a bit since then. "Is it at the 'fall the other day? Char said we did well, but we were a little nervous. No one was hurt though, and I'm told we caught it all."

C'ran gives a little chuckle and negates that possibility with a shake of his head "Nono, you all did wonderfully in the flight. This is something else. Something rather important. You see, you've been here at the weyr for a fair amount of time by now."

A smile, though still on the slightly serious side, like most of Ali's are as of late, appears on her rosy lips when she realizes the talk isn't to be of the recent 'fall, but rather, something else. "Yes sir. Over two and a half turns now, if I remember correctly." Still not sure where the conversation *is* going, she tilts her head, to wait and listen for it to come in its own time.

C'ran smiles teasingly "And you've become a bit more… accustomed to weyr life?" and some of its practices. "First as a candidate, and then a weyrling. Well, I'm afraid some things must come to an end Ali…"

"Not fully, but I'm learning," Ali admits with a tilting of her chin in an upwards direction, a look of pride. "Uillauth and I have helped each other. We'll continue learning." Deep eyes stare into C'ran's and she leans forward just slightly, waiting for him to finish the sentence.

C'ran inclines his head once in appreciation "Aye, I've noticed some changes in you, a little more accepting. It suits you. And so, if you'll come over here, it is my proud honor." he reaches into a pouch and withdraws something in his closed fist "to promote you to the position of Ista Dragonrider." with fingers unfold like a blossom to bear a wingriders knot.

Ali's eyes light up light uncovered glows and she steps forward to accept her new knot, and with it, her new rank. "A full rider, now?" she asks, checking to make sure she heard him correctly even as she removes her old weyrling knot so she can replace it with the new one.

C'ran can't help but smile hugely "Aye, the first one of the class in fact. I thought you might like that honor."

Ali slips her old knot into her pocket and holds her hand out for the new one, her own smile growing brighter as she waits, "Thank you. I do appreciate it, truly."

C'ran drops to the ground in front of you "If you don't mind… may I?" he holds up the not, "Its somewhat customary that I put the knot on the first weyrling, I promise I'll be good." another mischivious wink to follow.

Ali nods, and then cocks her head in the direction of the currently knotless shoulder, "Be my guest." With a tug, her jacket is straightened enough for the knot to easily be slipped into place, and she stands up straight and tall, as any good 'rider should.

C'ran reaches forward to securely fasten the knot upon your shoulder. "Wingrider Ali, I salute you. May you fight thread well and enjoy life in all its forms. Your wing assignment will be along shortly, and I must say, I would be proud to have you as a member of my wing."

Ali gulps softly and gives C'ran a sheepishly sentimental grin before reaching out to give her weyrlingmaster an embrace. "Thank you, C'ran, for all that you've done for me, and my class."

C'ran hugs back tightly and whispers "My pleasure Ali, its been wonderful having your entire class to work with."

Ali steps away, standing up straight and tall once again, her new knot perched upon her shoulder. "And now I just wait to see what wing I'll join, right?"

C'ran nods with a grin "Aye, you'll be tapped in the next few days, C'dar, the wingleaders, and I will finalize our decisions on where people should be sent."

Ali takes a step back and leans against the large brown lump that rests behind her. "Alright then, I'm a wingrider. How about that."

C'ran winks devilishly "Does it feel any different then, love?"

"Not really," Ali admits with a shake of her head, "Except it means I can let my hair grow again, and even wear normal clothes when I want."

C'ran laughs a little and shakes his head "Just promise you'll be careful with your hair? It wouldn't do to get thread caught in it. I pride myself on not losing my weyrlings." he tilts his head to the side a little and tosses in a little "And have you any plans for the rest of tonight?"

"I'll be careful, I promise, to always keep it in my cap during 'fall," Ali assures him with a nod of her head. "Safety always comes first." At the question as to her plans for the evening, she shrugs, "I'd like to return to Gar, tell Ash that I've graduated." With a wave and a grin, she slips up 'lauth's foreleg and bounces to his neck. "Good Evening, C'ran!"

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