[G] [C] [F] 734.09.04 |Fooled Myself

A breeze blew through the tent, causing S'cer to stir and draw a bare foot back into the blankets. The weather was cold by comparison to the typical muggy heat of the South, and though S'cer was grateful, he would berate himself for thinking that this was cold later. "Fuckin' weather," he grumbled, tugging the blankets further up around his chin, burrowing down into the blankets as best he could.

He could see the pale grey sky through the ajar tent flap; dawn was coming on, but it wasn't quite time to be up yet. And yet there was a restless itch crawling underneath his skin, making it difficult to just roll over and go back to sleep. Frowning, S'cer sat up, wincing as something pinged in his chest. Absently he scratched at the nape of his neck, combing his fingers through his hair, as he sat on the edge of his bed.

S'cer?

He yawned before getting to his feet, stretching carefully so as not to irritate his healing ribs. I can't sleep. What about you? A quick rummage in the bag at the end of his bed and he came back with the second pair of loaned trousers and his repaired shirt; still too large in the waist, he cinched the trousers in with a leather belt. Perhaps we could go down to the lake and get a wash in while it's uncrowded.

There was no answer, and he pushed aside the tent flap at the sound of wingbeats overhead. Quelseth? What's going on? It was rare that she would just outright refuse to answer, and a frown knit S'cer's eyebrows together.

I need to fly. Right now.

Wait and I'll go with you...

No. Now!

S'cer caught sight of her hovering overhead, and in the early morning gloom he could easily notice the glossier look of her hide. You're Flying! He didn't mean for it to come off harsh, but it was all he got to say before she took off, bugling a challenge.

"It's too soon!" He yelled to no one in particular, forgetting himself and the mind-link, furious at her for seemingly sneaking around into her first Flight. He had hoped that she would Fly late, had figured that due to her sickliness she would mature later. In truth, he was unprepared for this; he was well aware how Flights worked, but this was Quelseth. You need to come back, he pleaded, knowing it was futile.

She laughed, quiet and slightly bitter. You know I cannot. Banking overhead, she flew back over the unfinished Weyrfolk building and the tent city, bugling again.

S’ric took his time drying off in the chill morning. The area of the lake the pair had commandeered was quiet, peaceful. The sun had barely begun to rise and touch on the tops of nearby trees, leaving everything else cast in the residual grays and paleness of night. Only the rippling waves on the bank of the lake made any noise.

Well, that and the dripping, deep breathing bronze next to him. Dakrith was just as wet, and just as cold, as S’ric but neither voiced a complaint. There was recognition, mentally, of one another’s discomfort. But it was more to solidify that they would bear it with stoic acceptance. The water was cold, it only made sense they would be after such a swim.  The bronze flared his wings, attempting to catch whatever light might fall on them to warm him while his rider calmly dried himself off. There was a quiet between them, reflecting the still morning they found themselves in. It was a ritual, almost, that they swim before sun up. They had a long day ahead of them of hunting, gathering, and various other chores needed to keep up their small camp along the forest edge.

S’ric was looking forward to the hunt. He always did. After his shirt was pulled on, his riding leathers adjusted to fit snugly, he checked the sheathed blades on his hip. Hunting knives. He carried them wherever he could, though it was certainly more appropriate when he was alone.

Now that he was ready to go, wet hair sticking up in a messy array, he turned his attention to Dakrith’s bronze/green hide. The dragon shifted when needed, allowing his rider to dry him off with the same meticulous care. S’ric never had to voice a request that the dragon adjust his position, Dakrith already knew. They moved as though they had one mind – so interconnected that words weren’t required. Impressions of wants, desires, or requests were enough.

When Dakrith heard the Green, so did S’ric. Both knew immediately what they would do, what it meant, and how to follow through. [dakrith]I had hope a flight would occur soon.[/dakrith] Not just because the bronze enjoyed the pretty greens, but because S’ric had become more restless of late. They could both use a good romp and chase. Already warmed up  from their swim, S’ric snatched his riding gear and climbed on Dakrith with little ceremony. He could hold on for the short distance it would be to the Green Rider he intended to claim.

Their reaction was a slow build up. A steady increase in heart rate, an intense focus narrowed down to one specific desire. S’ric wasn’t caught up in Dakrith so much as the pair entered the Flight lust together. S’ric’s own need for a release fed into the Dragon’s want to chase and catch, mate and win. In turn, the Dragon’s own mind poured into S’ric’s the animalistic urge to take – not ask. Complimenting S’ric in a way nothing ever would.

Dakrith barely touched down in front of the tent belonging to the Green, by all appearances dropping S’ric before pushing up from the ground to regain altitude to the sweet siren Green in the air. [Dakrith]I’m coming, lovely.[/Dakrith] he rumbled to her, his voice a deep purr. His large wings lifted him up, his muscles already flexed and ready for the coming flight.

S’ric hit the ground moving. He dropped the riding gear that would’ve hindered his great beast. The Green Rider in question was not familiar, at least he did not spark any recognition from S’ric/Dakrith but that hardly mattered. Rather than simply pouncing on the poor Rider, S’ric circled him. It wasn’t for him to take this sweet boy until Dakrith had laid his own claim. But the predatory glint in S’ric’s eyes was not just from Flight lust. Oh how he loved it when he could take what he wanted. No pretense of romance or faked desire. He could do whatever he liked, within a knife’s edge of unreasonable, and play it all off as flight lust. This was the closest S’ric ever came to getting to truly satisfy himself sexually. And he did not intend on missing out on this chance. 

As had become the norm some time ago, Veeth was quick to find a green rising. He purred his excitement as he saw one of the young ones taking off for the first time and V’ler groaned from where he stood on the beach. It was extremely early for him and he had left Indivara sleeping back in the hut but Veeth was due a bath and the river was still out of commission so a trip to the lake had been made before preparations for the day of assisting where he could on the new location began.

“Seriously, Veeth?” V’ler was rather adept at mid-speak when he was still completely in control of himself but there were times his exasperation and snark needed a proper voice. He couldn’t see the green from where he stood but a quick explanation from the dragon made it clear it was Quelseth of S’cer. Well, he’d been with worse; he’d been with better as well, but it wasn’t like he’d be able to stop his dragon when he was already set on a chase.

As the lust continued to build, V’ler chucked all of his bathing supplies into a pile. When it was full on him as his dragon took to the chase, the bluerider began his stumbling journey across the uneven sand to find where S’cer was.

I come, love, Veeth’s soft lilting voice was nearly a song as he joined in behind the dainty green. We will have such fun together! He loved flights! Now that he was winning more of them as well, they were even better! On the ground, V’ler groaned at the enthusiasm but the lust held him tight and he encouraged Veeth to victory.

Since most of the Weyr had been destroyed and it was beyond reckless to continue his usual morning jog around it, D’hys had shifted to jogging more regularly at the lake. He had done that before, but now it was becoming the preferred track. He was in the process of finishing his first loop around the entirety of the body of water when Zeianth alerted him to a flight in progress. D’hys was a highly sexual being but he didn’t always enter flights. He didn’t need them as an excuse to get laid but his dragon needed the release at times and it was because of that reason that they usually entered. At times, in boredom, they would enter to lose so they could mess with the heads of other losers; like adorable V’ler. The fun that was had with that kid!

Who is it and is it worth our time? Not that it mattered, D’hys could be the lust on the edges of their bond. Zeianth hadn’t chased in recent times and with the stress from the landslide and his injury, the poor dragon was in need of some fun and release. A weyrling. The sickly looking one. D’hys considered it a moment. He hated Candidates because they were whiny or far too young an Weyrlings were typically off the market as well due to their clingy dragonets. This one, however, would be close to graduating now with the new teaching plans in place. Hadn’t the rider, S’cer, been vocal in his hatred of them once before as well? It sounded like some fun could be had with this one after all.

Fly well, my friend. D’hys gave his permission, that wasn’t always needed when Zeianth was willful and in need enough, and started to jog back towards the tents many of the homeless residents had moved into while the new Weyr was built. The lust that Zeianth released in full spurred D’hys on and the icy hide dragon gave a roar of challenge as he entered the fray.

K’tir! A pretty little green is flying! Ghaeth was nearly dancing around on the spot, the herdbeast he had been eyeing up for breakfast forgotten entirely, as was the fact that K’tir was still on his back. He loved chasing! It was fun and a very social activity. Some of the other males were a bit too into it and rough, but they were always forgiven. It was hard to keep composure around pretty females sometimes.

K’tir frowned at a flight taking place while Ghaeth was hunting. Who is it? He’d prefer his dragon focus on his hungry belly but some exceptions could be made. Um… Quelseth. She’s so adorable! The frown deepened as K’tir tried to place the name and found it. But she’s so young and fragile. Who else chases? That would be the deciding factor.

Taking that as permission to at least casually join in, Ghaeth took to the sky, releasing more of his lust for the little green in the process. K’tir scowled at the sneaky dragon as he adjusted his hold on the strap. Veeth… Dakrith… Zeianth… um K’tir’s expression turned almost murderous. That’s enough. Drop me down at the new location and give it your all, Ghaeth! His hatred of blueriders was what often had them entering green flights but any time he saw that D’hys, Z’ia, Z’rak, and a few others were in the chase that were known to be heavy handed while under the influence of flight lust, K’tir took it upon himself to be a champion of the greenriders and try to win.

As soon as Ghaeth was on the ground once more, K’tir jumped free and sent the brown beast back into the sky. The dragon’s lust and the rider’s determination was a strong combination and Ghaeth fly with confidence and skill as he joined in. K’tir followed the dragon’s lead and started his fun trek to the greenrider.

K'ren was sound asleep, in one of the many tents set up for those who were waiting for the building to be finished to move in, wearing clothes given to him by S'bel. He was sleeping dreamless but deeply. K'ren.

He tossed in his sleep, not wanting to wake up, it was too early.

K'ren, wake up!

Groggily, K'ren opened his eyes, half expecting to hear thunder again and be swallowed up this time by the mud.

No mud, a pretty young green flies. I shall give chase. Then K'ren heard a bugle of challenge as the blue rose to give chase, star splattered wings lifting him easily. Captured by his blue's lust, K'ren got out of bed and quickly put on slightly better borrowed clothes from S'bel, and some shoes and giving his blue encouragement, began to head towards the greenrider.

He wondered who it might be, but so consumed with lust, he didn't really care who. Beloyath as usual was putting his all into this flight. Quelseth Beloyath answered. K'ren couldn't remember ever bedding that rider, this was going to be fun.

H'gra was up and moving already, the habits of a lifetime seeing him dressed and groomed before dawn. He was even mostly awake by the time he finished, but not above stealing out of his tent for a cup of klah to help him along. Courtath would insist on leaving soon and he had to be ready.

Not today, m'boy. Courtath's voice boomed energetically, a frisson of excitement swimming through their blood.

H'gra narrowed his eyes in the blue's direction, but obligingly began jogging toward the tents he could see several other men making a beeline for. Who? There were few things that would divert Courtath's attention from their traditional dawn flight, and if someone wasn't dying, it had to be a green.

A lovely young maiden. The blue launched himself with a powerful thrust into the sky, angling toward the chase. He would fly her well and H'gra could relax with her rider, a win for everyone important. The fact that the other males might have something to day about this was dismissed as irrelevant, in the same category as his rider's lingering reserve. Courtath knew what was best for them and that was all there was to it.

Aren't we too old for maidens? H'gra asked plaintively, knowing the complaint would be ignored. He vastly preferred the older and experienced. The young ones tended toward the shocked and tearful after their ladies' first flights, and he wasn't really in the mood to be cursed for a monster afterward, or looked to for comfort. But the lust was already spiraling through his body and H'gra hurried faster, eager to get this over with.

S'bel groaned into his pillow as he woke. He knew it was early- far earlier than S'bel preferred to be conscious. He tried to bury his face back under the covers, only for the same nagging hunger that had woken him to flare up even stronger. In his groggy haze, S'bel wondered at that feeling for a few moments before the realization hit him. He knew that hunger. It was not his own. Ipsyth...

Quelseth rises. the blue confirmed in a rare moment of concise clarity. S'bel dragged a hang across his face, groaning a bit once again before he sat up. Early morning or not, he supposed he couldn't be too cross about the whole thing if it meant a flight. Winner or not, the result of a flight tended to be a pleasurable one. And if he could trust his tired mind, Quelseth was a young green. This was her maiden flight. Well then it really was an occasion, wasn't it?  Although wasn't Quelseth the sickly weyrling? An uncharacteristic hint of actual concern passed through S'bel's mind at that. He was fond of dragons after all, more so than humans. But then again he supposed Ipsyth would be a better option in that case than others in the Weyr. Ipsyth was gentle and tender by nature, far more than S'bel was on his own. So S'bel supposed that he could get out of bed for that. Not that he had much of a choice in the matter.

The bluerider stumbled out of bed and pulled on a shirt to cover his chest- he had been sleeping bare chested. He thought about changing his pants and putting on something more presentable, but figured one way or another, they would probably be coming off soon enough so why bother? It was one of the few instances S'bel could reconcile himself to appear in public in less than pristine condition. He did fuss over his hair for a few moments, before the impatience fueled by Ipsyth's lust itched at his consciousness and he gave up his preening in favor of leaving to find S'cer. He always felt a bit disoriented being so closely connected to Ipsyth in these moments. The blue's mind was a confusing place, to say the least, but S'bel told himself the sex was worth it.

Meanwhile, Ipsyth had taken off, flying off after Quelseth among the several other pursuers already gathered. Little leaf, the blue called to the green in flight, fly strong today. I shall endeavor to be a contender worthy of you.

Wake up!

"Why?" came the reply, and the speaker turned onto his side and adjusted the sleeping fur.

A green is Flying. Quelseth. It's her first time. The brown replied, his head turning towards where she was flaunting herself.

A'jeer groaned. He had been one of the main people S'kef had been relying on to rebuild Katila, and he was just plain tired from it.

Quelseth is weak. She should be an easy catch. Svarth commented confidently.

"Ah yes, my dear. Remember though that she is but a green. The smaller dragons will have a better advantage here.

I'll outfly them though. When they are getting tired, I'll still have speed on my side. He didn't care. He wanted her, and A'jeer wasn't going to talk him out of it. Besides, Quelseth's rider is a new catch for you. He'll be willing enough. Svarth added, knowing his rider's taste for rough Flights well by this time.

"True, true," A'jeer mused, scratching his chin. He sat up and stretched, " Alright, go get her, boyo." He said, making a shooing motion with his hands. The dragon didn't need any more encouragement and pushed off, pumping furiously to gain height as he chased down the Green.

A'jeer smiled slowly, awake enough to feel the rush of Flightlust begin to fill his body. He slid into some clean clothes, but ones that were looser and easy to remove. No sense in ruining one of his nicer outfits. After stamping into his boots, he was off to find where the riders were gathering.

Svarth bugled his arrival, as if anyone could miss the massive beast of a Brown. He took a dominate position above and to the right of the Green. It was his time to shine, to prove that bigger was better.

A'jeer sneered slightly as he eyed his...competition. Mostly Blueriders of course, but that one was a Brownrider like he was, and if he wasn't mistaken, the other fellow was a Bronzerider.  He positioned himself closer, his gaze locking on S'cer. Time to focus. He bit his lower lip and grinned, a dark hunger looming in the light of his eyes.

It was everything that Weyrlingmaster J'di had described and more.

S'cer's eyes blurred into Quelseth's as she turned her head, peering back at the males behind her. So many blues! So many colors! When the sun came up, wouldn't it glint prettily off their hides? And a pair of browns, and was that a bronze? For a tiny thing like Quelseth, who tended to keep her head down and not call attention to herself, it was very flattering that so many would turn out to fly with her! She was shy, however, and didn't bespeak any of them, instead spreading her wings as far as they could go, digging deep as she climbed up, higher and higher.

The flattered amusement disguised a very real lust there; S'cer dimly registered a gathering collection of riders but his eyes were trained to the sky. Though he was quiet, the high pinpoints of color in his face and the labored sound of his breathing spoke to his affectedness. And, perhaps, he did not look around him because he had hoped to see someone in particular. He had not seen Khaduceth when Quelseth had surveyed them all, and S'cer shoved that sense of loss to the back of his mind--it was easy, with the feedback coming from Quelseth that overrode everything.

The little green had rocketed higher so as better to see everything. The burn in her wings was pleasant, an ache that was present but not as yet unbearable, and she couldn't help but allow herself a little chance to play the coquette. Aren't you all pretty? She was quite fond of the wide spread of blue hides, varying in color, but the bronze was rather pretty too! S'cer was dismissive of bronzes because he disliked their riders, but the dragons themselves were so large and strong...

She had been flying in a fast-paced serpentine fashion, weaving left and right, enjoying the feel of the wind rippling over her hide. Yet caught up as she was in her musing on hide color and the daydreaming about the attractiveness of the males chasing her, she faltered. A slowed wingbeat was all it took, and she broke pace, slowing down considerably. Quelseth shook her head as if to clear the thoughts from her mind, for she didn't want the chase to be over so soon! She hastily tried to make up for it, but feared it was too late.

Feel free to make some catch attempts!

S’ric didn’t care about the other Riders. He didn’t even register their arrival. He gave himself over to Dakrith’s lust and continued to circle. He wasn’t like some others that would attempt to pounce the Rider before the dragon was caught. No, he liked to time it with Dakrith’s claim. As the way it should be.

There was only a vague awareness that the Green Rider was in front of him. What he primarily saw, what he didn’t resist at all, was the call of the open sky and the rush of lust through the Bronze. Dakrith had been big before the move to Katila and remained one of the larger dragons for this flight. But it wasn’t his size that would help him win the catch, it was his stamina. The great Bronze spent all of his time hunting, swimming, flying, and even climbing. The burn that raced through his body was a familiar friend, welcomed and wanted as he watched the beauty flying away from him. [Dakrith]Fly sweet thing,[/Dakrith] he cooed in his rumbling voice. [Dakrith]Show me how much you wish to be caught![/Dakrith] His large wings fanned out, pulling at the air with every powerful down stroke.

He didn’t follow her weaving pattern but kept relatively straight. He judged where she was going, if she would turn, all by the beautiful play of muscle beneath her hide and the tells of her movements. Dakrith had flown enough Greens to know them well by sight. While every Flight could be different, he knew the base patterns of Dragon flight. He wasn’t even overly concerned about the others, but there was a rather large Brown that could be a problem. But there was only a vague awareness of them, as S’ric was of the other Riders arriving.

Dakrith’s talons clenched in want as he raced after her. He saw her falter a moment and shifted, not to catch her, but to try and prevent any others from swooping in on her. [Dakrith]Not yet, pretty. Fly higher for me,[/Dakrith] he purred. He wanted a nice, long exhausting flight. To have it end so soon was unthinkable! And, the wicked Bronze thought, if he could just catch her and carry her higher still, they’d have plenty of time together. Plenty of time for S’ric to work himself out on the Rider too. The size difference was such a blessing when he could hold onto them so tightly.

No snatching, but some blocking of such things! 8D

Veeth preened under Quelseth’s praise of being pretty, though he didn’t like that she was complimenting all of the males on her tail. He wanted her praise to himself and wanted to lavish her in affection and compliments in return! The others wouldn’t do such things; most seemed rather mean and focused on only winning. He knew some of them from other flights or casual interactions on a normal day and they weren’t worthy of a pretty little green like this one!

He focused on the flight, matching her winging beat for beat as best as he could and followed her path with ease. He was one of the smallest in the chase and it often helped in moving like the delicate greens that flew so gracefully amongst the clouds beneath the warmth of the sun or the romantic glow of the moon. Veeth found it was easy to keep up with Quelseth now as well, although the bronze was a bit of a problem with his large body blocking every chance made to catch the beauty.

V’ler growled in frustration on the ground as his vision shifted from the forest ground beneath his quickly advancing steps and that of Veeth’s progress. While he didn’t typically have anything against the bronze dragons, in flightlust, it was another story. The large beasts needed to stop being so greedy and go back to waiting for their precious gold dragons to rise and leave the greens to the blues and even browns.

S’cer was found when Veeth made another attempt to move to the front of the pack and overtake the larger dragons. V’ler quietly maneuvered through the assembling crowd in his own bid to move in closer to the greenrider that was currently the object of desire. You’re so beautiful, love. Let me show you how much. As Veeth tried his poetic ways on Quelseth, V’ler echoed the words to S’cer, completely caught up in his dragon’s lust and mind.

Flights were so much fun! Ghaeth’s enthusiasm and lust was enough to knock a man to his feet, and it literally had the first few times the pair had given chase to saucy green minxes but K’tir was used to it now. His feet stayed planted on the ground and his eyes didn’t waver from the goal that was S’cer. He advanced with confidence, one fluid step after the other and shoved a man out of his way as Ghaeth dodged around a dragon in the sky. As odd as they might be in the eyes of others, they worked well together and played off of each other’s strengths.

Ghaeth’s enjoyment of the flight left K’tir with a lighter heart that helped him let go of some of the hatred he had for his fellow riders while K’tir’s determination not to let a bluerider win and savage a poor greenrider encouraged the dragon towards victory. Ghaeth’s smaller size for a brown did help him keep pace with the greens that liked to play in the sky with fun patterns that zigged and zagged every which way but his stamina didn’t always last as long as it needed.

Quelseth was doing a nice job in leading them on but thus far, the flight was short and Ghaeth held his own. He nipped at a dragon he passed, doing his best to intimidate the blue but not actually hurt him despite K’tir’s hatred that still lingered just below the surface of lust. As he moved closer to the front, he almost took out Veeth by accident alone since the pretty blue often easily blended into the blue sky. He wasn’t the target though; Dakrith was. The bronze was toying with Quelseth and all of them with the way he blocked them all. K’tir, if not Ghaeth, wasn’t going to let that continue.

Ghaeth made to swipe at the great beast, doing his best to distract the bronze if not injure him. K’tir didn’t care if they ended up losing so long as Dakrith and S’ric did as well. He didn’t like the way they operated in flights and if that meant that because of his focus on Dakrith a blue ended up winning, he hoped it was one of the gentler riders. An arrogant smirk was given first to S’ric and then to S’cer as Ghaeth tried again to distract Dakrith while also angling for Quelseth.

D’hys wasn’t far behind the other riders that were drawn to S’cer. He stood quietly in the back of the group for a bit, judging the human competition while Zeianth sized up their dragon counterparts. In the end, none posed any real threat. The browns and bronze may have had the size and even experience given their ages, but neither were concerned about them. Zeianth was a stealthy flyer and D’hys was cunning. Together they won nearly every flight they entered and didn’t consider anyone to be true competition.

D’hys laughed lowly as he saw through Zeianth’s eyes the way Dakrith tried to play keep away and how Ghaeth took it upon himself to intervene with such games. It was as if two of the larger problems wanted Zeianth to win! How kind of them. Take her, D’hys growled as he pushed his way through the crowd to stand before the greenrider that wore the adorable face of all riders in their maiden flight. It was something between confusion, fear, and lust. It was almost adorable.

Zeianth tracked Quelseth’s movements and those of the few dragons currently vying for her and made his move. He glided in with minimal effort, his hide of ice a stark contrast against the sky that was warming with the awakening day. “We’ll claim you now,” the blue pair spoke in unison as D’hys reached out to run the back of his hand down S’cer’s cheek and Zeianth extended himself to make the move to tangle with the delicate green.

S'bel eyed the other riders who gathered, gaze sweeping dispassionately just to take a catalogue, then they lingered on S'cer before the chase commanded his attention once again. That trip up, the small motion from the green that slowed her momentum pulled his focus to rest fully on the skies for the time being. There! They needed to move in! As the smallest male chasing, Ipsyth needed to make his move while his speed allowed and before fatigue set in. Before he could swoop in for that chance, though, Dakrith's form cut them off.

S'bel growled softly under his breath. Bronzes never had a place in greenflights. All they ever did was get in the way, the big oafs. Just like the cumbersome beasts to lay a claim on the whole sky and everything in it. Ipsyth stalled slightly, forced to swerve so as to avoid a collision with the larger dragon. And thought S'bel seethed in anger at that, his clenched fist loosened after just a few seconds with Ipsyth's calming influence flowing through his own mind. Right. They would wait for the right time.

He still couldn't help a smirk as Ghaeth went after the bronze. Perfect. Let the big ones distract themselves. The blue moved past them, but dodging away from the bronze left them at a position much worse than they had been before, and Zeianth moved in instead. Ipsyth stayed close, watching the other blue's attempt at catching the green with patience but still with the slightest hint of disappointment that they might have missed their chance. Still, he wished for Quelseth to hold out. They just needed to wait. S'bel bit his lip and waited with bated breath, with hazy focus switching between watching Quelseth in the sky and D'hys move closer on the ground. No, not yet!

Quelseth panicked, craning her neck around to spy the bronze and brown hampering one another. Still, it left quite a number of blues, and as Zeianth drew close, the bellow of rage that spilled from the normally mild-mannered green echoed throughout the sky. S'cer  shook his head, eyesight flickering between the sky and the ground, feeling half sick with fear and lust as he recoiled back from D'hys like he'd been burned by the touch.

Just a bit more, Quelseth! She knew what he felt before she even thought it, and in a fit of desperation to avoid being caught, Quelseth pinned her wings to her sides, plummeting towards the ground and away from Zeianth in an unplanned drop. Adrenaline coursed through her and S'cer as well, who could feel his heart hammering in his chest, breath coming in harsh, rattling pants as he watched the ground rushing to meet them through her eyes.

She pulled out of the dive, turning on a wing-tip, wings flaring out to beat hard as she fought to bring herself back up to a height, but it was too late. In all the excitement she had forgotten about all of them, fueled by her own urge to flee; a shadow drew close, a glimpse of blue in her peripheral vision, and Quelseth found herself being drawn close to a warm body.

The fight went out of her far too easily (something that she would over-analyze later), but her muscles were burning and she was so tired! Ipsyth, dear... She murmured, shyly even though they were quickly twining with one another, her lust raging through her.

S'cer's sight came back to him, and he drew close to S'bel, curling a hand around the bluerider's bicep with a hand that shook with need, quite unable to form words at all.

Just wrapping this up since I don't want it to sit unfinished. Thanks to everyone for participating! :)

The bugle that rang out from Quelseth echoed through the mind of both dragon and rider, rattling in S'bel's mind so audibly he actually physically winced and shut his eyes for a moment. He shook his head to shake off the distraction, though. Now was the time for action, after all. The sound and the sight of S'cer pulling away from D'hys told them both there would be an opening. Zeianth hadn't caught the green before they had a chance after all.

Both their eyes set upon their goals with anticipation, waiting for that change, Quelseth would have to move- get away from the other blue somehow. And as she drew her wings in and dove, they felt a spike of excitement. Swerving around the other dragons left them flying lower than many other. Now! S'bel urged, though Ipsyth's answer came so soon after that it was clear the thought wasn't needed. We fall.

The blue tucked his wings in and plummeted after the green. A part of him- them, since it was probably mostly S'bel and his suspicion, told him to look out for the other chasers, especially the bigger ones. But it seemed as if they still occupied each other and soon the thought of any others fled from both their minds. So the blue fell, uninhibited, keeping near and focusing solely on Quelseth. So close! And as she drew herself up again, they both knew they had won. Ipsyth drew in and simply crooned as Quelseth gave in, twining with her in the sky.

Below, a new wave of lust even stronger than before hit S'bel. He moved as if to go to S'cer, but before he could take a step the greenrider was there. He grasped for the younger man, desperation in his motions as he drew S'cer into a heated kiss to claim victory along with the blue above.