20.Oct.18, 03:17 AM
This, sadly, wasn’t her first time Standing at a deadly Hatching but that didn’t make it any easier or dull her to the pain and fear. As Mylorah watched the first girl get trampled, she debated rushing over to stand guard over her until the Healers could get to her, because it didn’t look like their darling gold dragonet was going to calm down anytime soon. She reminded her of a certain angry brown dragonet and that sent a shover of fear down her spine as she recalled his rampage and stupidly arguing with him afterward. But her good intentions were dashed as a girl was killed and tossed aside like a doll.
That’s when Mylorah knew she was right and that gold was not going to stop. Did she even have a mate here? Would anyone be able to stop her? As she grabbed the hands of two of the younger weyrbrats Standing for their first time, Mylorah stopped focusing on the well-being of the dragon and shifted her attention to the girls around her. “Move to the side! Don’t crowd her!” She shouted out ideas that sounded good to her at the time but she likely wouldn’t remember any of it later after the adrenaline wore off and shock set in. She tugged the girls along with her as she tried to navigate the chaos around her, even while scanning the crowd for friends, like Misharan. She trusted him and knew he would have a level enough head to help others as well. On a more selfish level, she wanted him with her, needing a friend.
When they reached the side –unfortunately not any closer to the exit where true safety would be had—Mylorah took in the scene around her, even as she cradled the young girls to her, telling them not to look. Bodies on the ground and not all of them were trying to stand or crawl away. She knew, no matter what she wished, that the still ones were dead, not too injured or unconscious to move. Someone had to stop the rampage.
“T’ryn!” She called across the Sands, as loud as she could when she saw her brother kneeling on the ground in his own state of shock. She’d feel sorry for him later, knowing the pressure he put himself under with being perfect and comparing himself to others, but now wasn’t the time for self-pity. She needed the brother that wanted to be a Wingleader and could handle this sort of thing and come up with a plan. She needed him to take charge. “T’ryn! Get off your ass and lead!” She put all her effort into that command, speaking from her diaphragm like the Harpers that tried teaching them to sing had always told them to do. It worked though, as he glanced around and saw her. What he could do when all three Weyrleaders were in the Stands was beyond her, but he was closest to the action and his dragon sired the crazed demon.
As Syrendryth seemed about to do something, Bedith tried talking to her daughter and that’s when Mylorah saw the dragonet heading to the Stands where too many people sat, trapped. When the gold finally vanished, Mylorah gave a sigh of relief but too much damage had been done and she wished she could cry like the girls she still hugged close. Maybe later. It was all too much to take in but her heart did manage to swell in pride as T’ryn barked some orders, being the closest bronzerider to the action to help control everything.
That’s when Mylorah knew she was right and that gold was not going to stop. Did she even have a mate here? Would anyone be able to stop her? As she grabbed the hands of two of the younger weyrbrats Standing for their first time, Mylorah stopped focusing on the well-being of the dragon and shifted her attention to the girls around her. “Move to the side! Don’t crowd her!” She shouted out ideas that sounded good to her at the time but she likely wouldn’t remember any of it later after the adrenaline wore off and shock set in. She tugged the girls along with her as she tried to navigate the chaos around her, even while scanning the crowd for friends, like Misharan. She trusted him and knew he would have a level enough head to help others as well. On a more selfish level, she wanted him with her, needing a friend.
When they reached the side –unfortunately not any closer to the exit where true safety would be had—Mylorah took in the scene around her, even as she cradled the young girls to her, telling them not to look. Bodies on the ground and not all of them were trying to stand or crawl away. She knew, no matter what she wished, that the still ones were dead, not too injured or unconscious to move. Someone had to stop the rampage.
“T’ryn!” She called across the Sands, as loud as she could when she saw her brother kneeling on the ground in his own state of shock. She’d feel sorry for him later, knowing the pressure he put himself under with being perfect and comparing himself to others, but now wasn’t the time for self-pity. She needed the brother that wanted to be a Wingleader and could handle this sort of thing and come up with a plan. She needed him to take charge. “T’ryn! Get off your ass and lead!” She put all her effort into that command, speaking from her diaphragm like the Harpers that tried teaching them to sing had always told them to do. It worked though, as he glanced around and saw her. What he could do when all three Weyrleaders were in the Stands was beyond her, but he was closest to the action and his dragon sired the crazed demon.
As Syrendryth seemed about to do something, Bedith tried talking to her daughter and that’s when Mylorah saw the dragonet heading to the Stands where too many people sat, trapped. When the gold finally vanished, Mylorah gave a sigh of relief but too much damage had been done and she wished she could cry like the girls she still hugged close. Maybe later. It was all too much to take in but her heart did manage to swell in pride as T’ryn barked some orders, being the closest bronzerider to the action to help control everything.