Quarith Rises (Saria)

[[logged by Ali]]

T'rell jogs out of the dragon's way, greeting Saria with a quick nod. "She's ready to go, isn't she?" Yeah, that's rather obvious, but the bronzerider ain't always on top of schedules.

Saria doesn't seem to notice most of the browns who've moved closer to her glowing lifemate; nor really the bronzes - Weyrwoman nods, face taking on a bit of a flush, at her clutchsib. "Aye, T'rell.. no question…" Even after turn upon turn of this, Saria still never gets used to the feelings it evokes within her.

Djarreth isn't one to be daunted by the sight of bronzes crowding around a flirtatious queen. Swinging his great head low and finding no position between the bronzes to push himself into, the great brown bides his time and patiently watches: the only sign of his tension revealed in the reflexive taloning of the bowl dirt.

T'rell takes a deep breath, watches his dragon for a long moment, and exhales. "Ah, ha." He nods thoughtfully.

Kita hangs back near her dragon, ever seeking his internal and outward strength even in times such as this. Of course, for once her dragon isn't particularly attentive to his rider, much too busy keeping an eye on the proceedings not far off from his position. Kita lets out a nearly inaudiuble sigh and drops her hand from Djarreth's flank, stepping back and keeping a distance from the other two riders.

Quarith gazes at her adoring audience with faintly whirling eyes, her wings folded in such a way as to give the impression that she is looking over her shoulders at them. She croons and she rumbles softly in an attempt to get their attention. Bronze is such a lovely color. Nhamarath and Sejith are openly watched with avid, helpless southern belle charm. She is the charmer—for now.

Saria glances furtively at the other riders arriving - but mostly keeps her eyes on T'rell. "Been a long time since you and Sejith were in the Weyr when Quarith rose.." she mutters, quietly but still audibly enough that the others would hear.

Sejith sidles closer to Quarith, a low, bass rumble vibrating within his svelte, polished brass form. He snakes his head up and sinuously around, light glinting on oiled hide.

Saria carefully takes a step back from Quarith, her lifemate's glowing hide suddenly seeming too warm.

Uillauth's oversized head swings to and fro, looking at the others with intense curiousity, attention focusing, in the end, on Quarith. Wings are folded back slightly, as if trying to show that he's cool enough to be here, with the older dragons, but he doesn't relax. Ali tries to hide behind the brown, a completely horrified look appears on her face when the brown swishes away, leaving her standing alone, unguarded.

T'rell nods again, responding with half his attention. "Aye." Suddenly he shakes off his musings and glances around, taking stock. "You'll have a lot of chasers."

The ignored brown form of Djarreth seems to grow ever so slightly more fretful at the lack of attention, his claws beginning to rake great gouges within the bowl floor. A low snort and dissatisfied rumble begins low in his throat, gaining a feverish pitch as his stands, and stretches his wings out. He beats them once, twice, eager to fly, to give chase, and flexes his impressive muscles along his back and haunches. The wings are left encompassing much space, an attempt to show his size as enough to rival those bronzes.

Saria raises a brow, sizing up those around her with a narrow-eyed glance.. her hair isn't braided, at the moment, and long curls tumble over shoulders. "You think we will.. despite our age?" She laughs hesitantly, her voice not solely her own for the moment.

Quarith leads her group of bronzes on the flirtation leash only so far. Slowly, while watching the bronzes, she folds her wings back and lifts her nose into the air. It seems that even bronzes can be snubbed by this queen who deems herself superior to all gathered. For the moment, she is playing hard to get. She is not won that easily; anyone who thinks she is, will be proven wrong.

T'rell laughs, the sound strident in the tense air. "Despite? More like because of," he winks to the weyrwoman. "You know what a catch Quarith is? What a boost to the reputation of the guy that wins!" Half distracted again, he glances around.

Sejith draws himself up fully, his broad chest expanding in an effort to impress the glowing queen. In an easy flick of wings and gathering of haunches, he glides west; the taste for hot blood demands it.

Saria chuckles softly, unable to resist sidling up a bit closer to T'rell. If Quarith won't show her preferences for any one suitor, Saria will be just the opposite. "A catch, hmm…?" She draws the last sound out slowly. "A boost to the ego? I hope we're more than that to you, clutchbrother.."

With a massive push of his hind legs, Djarreth leaps skyward, wings beating strongly as he gazes down upon the petrified herd below. With eyes beginning to glow a deep shade of red, the patient yet tense brown chooses his bovine victim, and plunges. The squealing buck is caught without any mishaps, the neck of the beast broken as soon as it leaves the ground. Wingsails then snap to his sides to give Djarreth a speedy descent, his teeth locked onto the buck's neck almost before he reaches the ground.

Ali watches, eyes open wide in horror, as Uillauth just *leaves* her there. Uncomfortable in the moment, she shifts from foot to foot like a child that knows she's in trouble. Much to her own dismay, she doesn't run and hide, though maybe the fact that her feet are stuck to the ground is playing a part in it.

Quarith raises her nose up a notch at the mere notion of showing preference. Males were created to coddle the females and likewise, females were created to string along a gaggle of males. Bronzes and Browns alike are given her cold shoulder until such time she sees fit to deign to notice them again. Not that she notices the browns-yet.

The trouble is, T'rell's dragon has always shown a preference for Saria's gold. For a moment, he's tongue-tied; he takes a breath, briefly touches the woman's shoulder, and shakes his head in reply before he crosses behind her to greet Ali. "Hey, kid. Don't panic, there's plenty of time still."

Kita unconsciously echoes her dragon's tension by flexing her hand into a fist, and then releasing it again. Her eyes echo an unusual sort of madness not normally seen in the brownrider's eyes, and just as suddenly, it is gone. Breathing a sigh of relief, Kita's eyes seem to open a little more as she gazes at the others around her. "Ali? You okay?" she asks her once weyrling, not taking a step to the girl lest she scare her into running.

Uillauth stalks quietly, not searching the prey out from air, like expected, but rather on the ground, wings tucked tightly against his form in an effort to remain stealth-like. The perfect beast is spotted, and its reward is to be pounced and knocked to sudden death. Claws rip into the animal's hide, tearing it open.

Sejith's kill is quick and without mercy. He glides above the herd just long enough to head off a fleeing buck, snatching it in his talons and gashing open its throat in the same motion with which he snaps its neck. Up he soars, teeth already locked on the pumping artery as he alights on a rocky ledge above.

Saria turns her head to follow T'rell's hand, the touch lingering on her shoulder, even through leathers, like the sear of a threadscore burning down toward the core of her.. she watches him over to Ali, and then turns her head back to Quarith.. watching tensely, feeling the rhythm of the dragons' instincts pulsing around.

Ali's gaze shifts from T'rell, a relative, to Kita, a former-teacher, and back. Lips part in an attempt to speak, but no words come out, leaving her mouth working silently. With a gulp, she nods her head. She'll be fine, T'rell said so, so it must be true. Her head cocks to the side, gaze pausing on the man for a moment before it shifts to Kita once again. "Fine," she mumbles with a tongue heavy as lead.

Djarreth raises his head to lick his muzzle clean, the first beast lying motionless beneath him in a reddening pool of it's own blood, like a godly sacrifice just granted. With a near-snarl, the once-gentle dragon swipes the carcass away from himself, reaching out with a forepaw to grab the passing form of another buck which had become seperated from the herd in it's terror. Razor sharp teeth once more lock onto the neck of Djarreth's victim, his throat working furiously as the warm liquid nourishment is gulped down.

Saria's eyes grow wide, suddenly.. a look of bewilderment passes over her countenance and she tenses, rigid, and looks for a moment as though she'll lose consciousness. Catching herself clumsily against her lifemate, she rights herself, then pushes away a bit.

Quarith suddenly saunters towards the corral, like the aristocrat she is. She moves with liquid grace reserved for those of her station. A thrum of excitment quivers her glowing hide as she moves towards the pens and the animals.

T'rell manages a cocky grin for Ali's benefit. "See you up above, wingmate." But his attention is torn to the west, following the gold of Quarith's hide while his feet root to the earth.

Kita doesn't respond to Ali's one word answer. She merely gazes at the girl for a time, her eyes sympathetic with understanding, an occasional flash of her own inhibitions showing through. Then, almost instinctively, Kita's gaze travels to the direction of the corral.

Quarith swoops in with a grace belied by her years to begin her first blood. Spiraling down towards the pitiful animal, she closes on it with sharp claws. Killing it like a lady, she laps at the blood with an eagerness that makes her hide flare even brighter. For now, the males are ignoredthoroughly and completelybut only for now.

Uillauth leaves his first kill where it lies, the remaining blood shining in the afternoon sun. It's forgotten as the brown *pounces* once again, lifting off the ground just long enough to land on another one, breaking its neck in two before tearing into it's skin and sucking it dry.

Sejith discards the drained carcass casually, swooping down with wings outspread; shadowing the herd for a heartbeat. When he rises, another buck struggles, captured in his talons. He carries it, alive, to his perch, then locks his jaws about its neck as it screams its death.

Saria swallows, trying vainly to moisten her throat, which has suddenly become unbearably parched with little sign of repreive. "I.. need some water, I think.. or wine. Perhaps wine.." She shakes off her reverie and looks toward the caverns of the Weyr.

Ali frowns, but nods, as her gaze shifts with those of the others, toward the corral, watching Quarith. "Yeah. Above," she mutters, shifting in her place again, boots causing a cloud of dust to rise around her. Hands clench and unclench, which she hides by tugging on the jacket that covers her form.

Saria moves quietly towards the ground weyrs.. her excuse a search for something to quench her parched throat.

T'rell moves in the direction of Saria's glance, following the goldrider with the same instinct that sends his bronze after her Quarith.

Ali follows slowly, not really sure why, but just following the others, her feet barely lifting from ground, 'causing a scuffling sound as her boots scrape along the stone floor. As the others enter the weyr, she pauses, at the door. Just in case.

Saria slips back toward the curtained area in the back, and finds a skin of wine.

Quarith drops the carcass, being careful only to blood, and dives for another kill. Scoop it up almost tenderly, she again laps the blood from the dying animal. Warmth and blood sends her emotions to a new height, and again she is suddenly aware of the males hovering so closely to her. Flirtatious and almost seductive in her upper echelon way, she glances coyly back at the bronzes, even browns manage to be included in her gaze.

A drudge, haphazardly cleaning, straightens up; her jaw drops. "Oh!" she exclaims, and scurries out.

Kita is the third to wander into the weyr and she stops just inside. Sensing someone pause, she turns to find Ali hanging back. Kita attempts a reassuring smile in her direction before completing her journey into the weyr, finding a nice comfortable wall to lean against: arms crossed, one knee bent with the flat of her foot against the wall.

Barely noticing the drudge, Saria returns, wineskin in hand - never hurts to be a healer, you know where /all/ the fun things are kept secreted away. She meanders back, taking a long pull, and then thrusts the thing out at arm's length, letting anyone who wishes take their turn.

Sejith's buck has ceased to kick now as the pumping of its heart has slowed and stopped. His eyes, whirling brilliant amber, fix on Quarith, a gaze of intense heat with building passion.

Saria's eyes take on a strange duality, their color deepening as two become one; she is her lifemate's very echo, and she sees through /those/ eyes the deaths of the beasts from whom new life will spring.

A shudder seems to wrack Djarreth's form from nose to tail at the coy gaze within Quarith's eyes, and the muscular brown shakes himself once like a canine, all over in an attempt to disguise what could be perceived as weakness on his part. Eyes which were once a deep red begin to brighten to a brilliant hue, Djarreth's volumous chest rising and falling as he follows every movement the quaint, coy and sinuous gold has to offer.

T'rell leans, deceptively casual, against a wall, eyes closed for several minutes. When he opens them again, he walks over to Saria, accepting the wineskin to take a deep pull.

Uillauth drops the carcass to the ground, letting the remaining blood spill out across the grass, tipping his talons with red. Muscles flex as he turns to face the object of his attention, of his desires. Poised, he waits patiently. He may be new at this game, but he learns, quickly.

Saria lets her hand follow the wineskin a bit as it is tipped up to T'rell's mouth - a gesture that leaves her hand reaching, fingers curled slightly, in midair, as if to touch but not daring.

Quarith dives in for the last kill, cradling the squirming herdbeast in her claws while still in the air. Killing it deftly, she glances over at the males and sucks the blood out of the neck of the herdbeast. Seductive and flirtatious, she keeps her glowing eyes trained on the males while her throat works at sucking out the blood. A couple of ruby-red droplets trickle down her muzzle and off her chin to land on the ground below. Dropping the beast, she licks her muzzle deliberately and with a promise of things to come. Only the highest of the high will win her this day.

Rather caught up in the moment, Kita assumes an air of nonchalance that her dragon is normally so known for, and she is not. Sly, seductive eyes open a little from their previously lowered gaze, head raising as well. The brownrider begins to reach out for the wineskin, until something deep inside her clicks, and with a slightly confused expression lowers her hand.

Ali forces herself away from the door and into the room a bit further. Dark eyes focus on the pair in the center of the room, nose wrinkling somewhat disapprovingly, and she skirts around them, moving to the rear of the room. The young rider drops to one of the cots, pushing herself backwards until she's pressed against the wall behind it, knees bending up to her chest. Eyes close almost completely, watching the others for a moment longer before relaxing into Uillauth and forgetting them. For now.

Sejith trumpets his challenge skyward, a brassy call to arms in the burnished rays of spring's sunset. He tenses, talons bared and scraping the rocky ledge as he follows with burning eyes Quarith's sensuous, gleaming gold.

Saria shudders, nearly oblivious to the others around her. Quick, furtive glances are afforded Ali, and Kita.. from each she comprehends a different message, one of fear and anxiety, the other of confusion.. but these are shaken off.

Quarith launches to the sky with a deftness reminiscent of her younger years. Fly now. Fly far.

T'rell returns the wineskin to Saria's hand, dropping back a few steps. The room around him is half-substantial, the people merely reflections of their dragons around him. He finds the nearby wall again, brown eyes as fixated on Saria as Sejith's are on Quarith.

Quarith folds golden wings around the skeins of wind, sending her higher and higher into the air. Swirling with a mix of dainty aristocracy clashed with the heat of flirtatiousness, she croons loudly, allowing the sound to trail behind her. She is a lady and, thus, would not challenge a male so openly; at least not yet. Tail swirls tantalizingly as muscles make wing movements love embodied. She caresses the air; she does not force. In this, she is the true aristocrat.

Saria would merely let the wineskin drop, her attentions are so fixed; but somehow she manages to keep a grasp on it. She returns briefly, only briefly, to herself.. the wine in hand, she moves slowly toward Kita. A hand reaches out, caresses the brownrider's cheek gently, and the wine is placed in the other woman's grasp before Saria retreats and Quarith *is* again.. she stands in the center of the weyr, complelled to remain away from the walls, the desire to feel openness around her overwhelming.

Ali squeezes her eyes tightly shut, the young rider determined to stay with her dragon. This time. Arms squeeze together, pulling her knees closer to her chest, forcing her into some semblance of a ball.

Uillauth> Uillauth's strong hid legs push, muscles pulsating for a second's pause before they push, forcing him into the air, after the gold, the prize. Wings push quickly, lifting him higher and higher with each stroke. The chase is on. The prize…is beautiful.

Kita begins to shudder a little, as her crossed arms begin to take on a more desperate look as it begins to appear the girl is hugging herself. Kita grits her teeth as she attempts to gain some sense of self through the whole event, her fighting just causing the shudder to develop into savage shaking. Finally, at a soothing word managed to be projected from her aroused dragon, Kita throws her arms out and allows herself to be totally encompassed by her dragon's emotions as the flight reaches new heights above the weyr. The wineskin is instinctively gripped as it is placed in her hand, now sturdy and strong. An almost inhuman look appears in Kita's eyes, a fierce gaze of hunting follows the weyrwoman across the room after her cheek is touched- and in a savage motion Kita downs most of the wine in a process that could even make Elle or Teza jealous.

Saria closes her eyes, and sees through others… her body turning in a flowing circle, arms hanging freely at her sides, like a child spinning to make herself dizzy.

T'rell's breath comes evenly and deeply, patiently contemplative while he watches Saria.

Eyes open, and the Weyrwoman watches the world come to a reeling, careening stop.. she faces T'rell again, and takes a step forward.

Just as well Sejith trumpted that brilliant signal, for Djarreth takes it as a sign to be ready, and is off after the golden queen not long after she leaps. His massive wingspan totally dominates his airspace, so the brown keeps a respectful distance from the others for the moment, ever watching and ever patient. Now that he is airborne, the only sign of his eagerness and tension lies within the red/yellow tint to his eyes. He does not respond to Quarith's unashamed flirting (at least, not on the outside), preferring instead to project an image of control and great strength within his gently gliding form. Ali rocks gently in her place for a moment longer before forcing herself to relax. Legs stretch out before her, arms dropping to hang at her sides. Outwardly, at least, she's beginning to look calm, cool.

T'rell's eyes lock with Saria's as she faces him. Expressionless and motionless, he seems held just by her very presence.

Quarith weaves and moves through the air with sensuous grace. Glowing eyes are turned to her chasers for but a moment, but this, like any well turned southern ball, has it's rules and this belle follows them to the letter. Flying high and far, her wings caress the sky again before dipping in a mind-jolting drop straight to the ground. Before hitting anything critical, the gold levels out, leaving her suitors chasing her wake.

Sejith banks and rolls in a quick manuever, gaining time and space as land and sea momentarily switch places before falling back to rights. Up he chases again, closer now, wings pumping against the cross-breezes.

Kita is no longer Kita as people know her anymore. She has almost become the human embodiment of Djarreth, were he in human form. Her movements, usually unsure and hesitant with an overlying yet acted aura of confidence are suddenly more certain, and much stronger. Every move she makes has a purpose, every blink has a sureness about it that Kita would never have experienced. Such is the turbulent and strong emotions that appear between some dragons and their riders at times such as this. Kita assumes her prowling look, not minding Saria's attentions towards T'rell, for she herself has taken up Djarreth's cool demeanor of waiting, and patience.

Uillauth's long, lean form stretches, wings pumping forcefully, upwards. To the sky. Unexpectedly, the gold drops toward the ground. Heading is adjusted, wings tucking against him for a moment, allowing him to drop, and spreading immediately to return himself to rights before pushing upwards again.

Saria shivers at the intensity of T'rell's heated gaze.. she feels Quarith's movements within, but she brings herself back to the surface enough to uproot her feet. Wanting to move closer, she's held by her lifemate's aloofness just those few paces away from the one elusive mystery that has been in her life since she impressed, the one 'what if?'.

Ali's eyes flutter open, but they aren't really her eyes, because she doesn't really see what's there, beyond hazy forms moving about. Blinking, she focuses on the pair in the center of the room, then on Kita, before closing her eyes once again. What's in this room doesn't matter. Not to her. Not right now.

Djarreth is all muscle, strength and power, not built for speed and agility. Almost too late he snaps his wings down to his sides, causing a long and frightening drop as the world careens past his field of vision. He emits a small, plaintive sound as Quarith manages to evade once more and soar upwards: Djarreth having to rely on his strength to make up for lost distance due to the larger dragon's more manuvreability.

Quarith flies higher and higher towards the orange-tinged clouds of sunset. She, herself, has become the sunset embodied for those who are chasing. Hide pulses as she flies, making her a bright, golden beacon in the sky; however, she does not submit. Not just yet. She is Quarith; she is superior. It is that simple.

Sejith glints upward, gleaming brass to match the setting sun. In a spiral he glides, whirling winds washing oiled hide. The golden tail, his goal, the queen he has served and desired so long — she still flees, but he has studied her, he knows her, he was hatched in her wake and now he soars closer still, instinct and intellect directing every move.

T'rell pushes off the wall, hands flattened against the cool, worked stone. A step closer to Saria-Quarith, unable to tear himself away.

Uillauth pressing onward, upward. He may be younger, and may be smaller, but he's powerful. He can fight this fight, maybe even win, if he tries hard enough. Rhythmically, he moves, following behind the others, but using their motions to his advantage, letting them pull him along.

Djarreth manages to bring himself back in the chase, and not at all winded for his efforts. For stamina is his ally that this enormous brown relies on, stamina and endurance. Even in the heat of these emotion-filled flights Djarreth manages to remain the perfect gentleman: he hangs back, not flying beside but a little to the right and behind her. The sun reflects of her hide and splashes onto his own, casting little glints of golden highlights to light up his honeyed-brown exterior. A low rumble winds up through his throat, a spoken, thrilled expression of the challenge, the hunt, and the possibilty of reaping great rewards.

Quarith feels the call of the one who is oldest to her. Familiarity calls her as surely as honey calls the bees. Delicate southern belle that she is, she is coy about it and nearly falls back into the wings of the dragon behind her. Catching herself, she tempts the one who is near to catching her, swooping around other males. She tantalizes and moves among the bronzes and browns like the good dancer at the ball. Is she to be caught?

Saria's eyes lock on T'rell-Sejith, years of pent-up desire and well-hidden longing now finally, finally allowed near the surface becoming more than she can control. A step of her own, now, the distance between lifemates diminishing, the distance between herself and her own need now nearly indistinguishable. She draws him to her with Quarith's eyes and her own, willing him closer.

The sun plunges into the sea, spreading its crimson glow through the rippling waters far below. Sejith turns into the wind, arches up and around, and he is upon her, twirling his elusive lady in a flash of reflected gold through the glory of the wind-dance. She is encircled, but it is his long, sinuous tail that strikes for the capture. Quarith, she who I have followed; will you have your best suitor? For he will have you, or burn up with desire.

Even as the race teases as though it's about to end, Uillauth bugles in frustration, the others pulling away from him, beyond his reach. With a painful cry, he tucks his wings and falls, plummeting down toward the water, away from the lost prize. Just before reaching the water, he spreads his wings, still hitting it with enough power to release *some* of his remaining energy.

Quarith allows herself to be caught by the gentle arms of Sejith, long time clutchbrother. Warmth of familiarity and love rush through her with the force equivalent to a tidal wave. So much does she feel upon the moment of being caught that it backlashes around her, though mainly into her lifemate. The rush of emotions swirl and twine so much so that the joining of the two dragons is splendid, indeed.

A muscle in Kita's cheek twitches in irritation as Djarreth looses distance to Quarith with her daring plunge. Determination then echoes across her features, her fingers reflexively gripping and releasing her biceps as Djarreth pumps his powerful sails to be back in the chase. A self-satisfied grin then paints itself across her lips, and the brownrider lowers her head yet keeps her hooded eyes upon Saria's form. And then the feeling of Djarreth's loss sends Kita sliding down the wall to the floor.

T'rell closes the last remaining gap between himself and Saria, hands leaving the solidity of the wall for the satisfaction of flesh and entwined spirit. No words; his eyes close in the upwelling of emotion at flight's finish.

Ali releases a cry of defeat, clasped hands dropping to the bed she rests on, head drooping forward for a moment. Eyes open, falling on the pair before her, and now that she's fully away of what's happening, and what's about to happen here, she has to go. With a heave, she thrusts herself up off the bed and runs from the room.

Djarreth raises his head to release his pent-up emotions, crying them out in a most un-gentlemanly like bugle which echoes through the sky. Then with surprising accuracy, the brown manages to turn near on a wingtip, taking himself back to his weyr.

Saria reaches out, her normal inhibitions gone and desire overtaking, allowing herself to be entwined in T'rell's arms as Quarith is within Sejith's firm and tender grasp.

Sejith twines, smooth hide caressing Quarith in an embrace of totality; they are together as gravity regains control, carrying them down through sea-borne mists and whistling winds.

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