31.Jul.21, 08:14 PM
The bright summer sun wasn’t the only golden glow recently. Over the past few days, perhaps even a senvenday or so, A distinct air had settled upon the buttery hide of one of Telgar’s golds. An eagerness, too, had crept into the femme dragon’s demeanor lately. Her temper flared more often with clipped, short responses, her emotions flipped more easily.
Lassalla felt those changes within herself, too, and though it had only happened once before, she still knew what it meant for Neryseth. And for her. The bright afternoon sun reflected off of her gold’s brilliant form, and her eyes whirled in the deep reds of hunger. It wouldn’t be long now before the gold took to the skies for another Flight.
Two days previously, she’d made sure that her girls were all to room in crèche or the candidates’ quarters, so she had the weyr to herself. Now, she was glad of that precaution. It gave her a moment to prepare herself as Neryseth stood and stretched on her ledge, eyeing the herdbeast pens.I am ready, Mine. It was a curtesy to her rider, more than anything. The gold was going to take to the skies whether her rider was ready or not. She was far overdue for it.
“Thank you for the heads up.” The goldrider offered a small quirk of a sarcastic smile, nodding to her beast, and the dragon let her intentions be made known with a powerful, challenging roar. Launching from the ledge, she tucked her wings to her back to speed toward the pens, snapping them open and startling the herd. The animals scattered, bellowing their confusion, and the gold found her target in one beast that was too slow to get out of her way. Talons outstretched, she snatched the creature, killing in neatly with a blow to its back. She pulled against her bond with her rider, wanting desperately to eat to her fill, but Lassalla was prepared this time and reined the gold in. With an annoyed and frustrated hiss, Neryseth bled her kill, eyeing the suitors that had started to gather, before pouncing upon yet another terrified herdbeast.
In the weyr above, Lassalla settled herself on the edge of her bed, watching, waiting, feeling the distinction between rider and dragon blur and fuzz until it was no more. She was vaguely aware that others had begun to filter into the weyr, but only as though in a half remembered dream.
In the bowl below, Neryseth let out a delighted scream, leaping from the ground and giving two powerful downstrokes of her wings. Her gleaming hide was momentarily obscured, the bright sunlight blinding to any watching, and she took advantage of the opportunity to veer on a wingtip, catching one suitor by surprise. Let them try to catch her!
Let the chase begin! **winner already decided, but have fun in the chase for those who choose to do so!
Lassalla felt those changes within herself, too, and though it had only happened once before, she still knew what it meant for Neryseth. And for her. The bright afternoon sun reflected off of her gold’s brilliant form, and her eyes whirled in the deep reds of hunger. It wouldn’t be long now before the gold took to the skies for another Flight.
Two days previously, she’d made sure that her girls were all to room in crèche or the candidates’ quarters, so she had the weyr to herself. Now, she was glad of that precaution. It gave her a moment to prepare herself as Neryseth stood and stretched on her ledge, eyeing the herdbeast pens.
“Thank you for the heads up.” The goldrider offered a small quirk of a sarcastic smile, nodding to her beast, and the dragon let her intentions be made known with a powerful, challenging roar. Launching from the ledge, she tucked her wings to her back to speed toward the pens, snapping them open and startling the herd. The animals scattered, bellowing their confusion, and the gold found her target in one beast that was too slow to get out of her way. Talons outstretched, she snatched the creature, killing in neatly with a blow to its back. She pulled against her bond with her rider, wanting desperately to eat to her fill, but Lassalla was prepared this time and reined the gold in. With an annoyed and frustrated hiss, Neryseth bled her kill, eyeing the suitors that had started to gather, before pouncing upon yet another terrified herdbeast.
In the weyr above, Lassalla settled herself on the edge of her bed, watching, waiting, feeling the distinction between rider and dragon blur and fuzz until it was no more. She was vaguely aware that others had begun to filter into the weyr, but only as though in a half remembered dream.
In the bowl below, Neryseth let out a delighted scream, leaping from the ground and giving two powerful downstrokes of her wings. Her gleaming hide was momentarily obscured, the bright sunlight blinding to any watching, and she took advantage of the opportunity to veer on a wingtip, catching one suitor by surprise. Let them try to catch her!
Let the chase begin! **winner already decided, but have fun in the chase for those who choose to do so!