Four for the Price of One! [Glieseth's Maiden Flight]

”I fly because it releases my mind from the tyranny of petty things.”  ~Antoine de Saint-Exupery

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He flew through the clouds, wide wings outstretched to cut through the gentle chill of the white clouds, shredding like ancient cloth before the sharp edge of his foresail. He could feel the powerful thud of his heart under his skin, his pulse pounding through the great veins of his neck and belly. Mouth parting, he drank in a great draught of the air, feeling the icy frigid sky pouring down into his lungs.

With a roar, Dogul pumped his wings, only to find that suddenly he was a man again, his wings stripped from him. He was flying with his arms, flying, flailing, falling. He tried to scream, but the wind stole the breath from his lungs, whipped his hair into his eyes, wiped the sweat from his brow with dead and icy fingers.

Suddenly the clouds broke, and he saw the ground, screaming towards him, impossibly far and impossibly close. He couldn’t close his eyes. He shook in terror as the ground rushed up, flying towards him with incredible speed.

He struck.

Dogul sat bolt upright in his bed, panting with fear, utterly soaked in sweat and wide awake. His eyes, dilated from the emotion of the nightmare, darted around. Dogul fought free of the sheets which were binding around his legs, staggering upright and out the door. There -- against the wall of the hut, Glieseth huddled, an indistinct blob of terrified dragon. Walking slowly across the ground wet from evening rain and morning dew, Dogul made his way over to his dragon. She tucked her wings even closer, cringing away from even him.

“Seth,” he said quietly, to banish the nightmare. It’s okay, Dogul added silently, reaching one hand out and approaching slowly, unsure if his own dragon would strike in her fear. He paused briefly before fighting against his impulse to retreat, and lay his hand on the green’s hide. She shivered, then slowly stopped. The green shifted her wing to regard Dogul with one eye, gleaming in the predawn light, some indeterminable color. Gently, Dogul tried to find his calm, to radiate the care and acceptance - the absolution - that he knew his dragon needed. He felt her tremble again under his touch, before falling still. The dragon’s silence was palpable in his mind, but he felt her relax at last.

She blinked.

[gliesetha]It’s so early, Dogul![/gliesetha] ‘Glee’ said, entirely upbeat. [gliesetha]What’s wrong?[/gliesetha]

“I had a nightmare,” he said softly, so as not to wake anyone else in the area, though he knew it wouldn’t be long before ‘Glee’ started accidentally broadcasting. It’s not like they could blame him for that.

[gliesetha]I hope it wasn’t about flying,[/gliesetha] the dragon replied gravely. [gliesetha]Because! I am soooooo ready![/gliesetha]

“Ready for what?” Dogul asked, suddenly dreading the answer. She’d been switching a lot recently, getting more irritable and unstable. But--

[gliesethb]To Fly, of course, my love,[/gliesethb] drawled ‘Glieseth’.

[gliesetha]C’mon! Aren't you excited? We’re gonna have fun and play a Chasing game![/gliesetha]

Her words - and her readiness - flashed across the Weyr, hitting Dogul full-force. His eyes went wide, and he took a step back in shock and a sudden desire to run far, far away. More than that -- a sudden desire to run, and run, and to be caught. He panted, half in fear, half in lust. He wasn't ready. He wasn't ready!

[gliesetha]Ready or not, here I come![/gliesetha]

I'shan didn't like waking up early. It was always unpleasant, but it was especially bad on hangover days. He hadn't meant to be awake, and he wasn't entirely sure why he'd had so much to drink the night before, but there wasn't much he could do about it now. He woke early with an upset stomach, which led to an hour or so of groaning and writhing in his bed before he finally gave up and headed to the dining hall for some water and bread. He wasn't even sure if it would help at this point, but anything was better than sitting around miserable.

He never threw up. It wasn't that bad. It was mostly just a headache and a little gurgling nausea, but by the time the sun was properly up, it had mostly gone away. He was still a little groggy and dizzy, but it wasn't too bad. He'd graduated from water to klah by the time Ilveriath nudged at the back of his mind.

She is very lovely, isn't she? the dragon said. I'shan was too distracted by his own thoughts to pay any attention to the implications, or even who exactly Ilveriarth was speaking about. Yep, gorgeous I'shan replied lackadaisically. Ilveriath wasn't a fool, though. He knew he wasn't being taken seriously, and well...today, that was just going to have to be I'shan's problem.

I am sorry, but it has been too long. Wish me luck, dear

I'shan lifted a brow. "Say what?" he blurted out loud, but....oh. Oh!

"Ilv!" I'shan shouted, leaping to his feet just as he heard the call go out. I'shan shuddered, quickly taken by the sweeping sensation of flightlust as Ilveriath silently took wing. I'shan yelped and took off at a run, seeking his prey. His protests were already long lost. A flight, how exciting!

She’s so pretty, the bronze dragon’s voice was smooth, like silk and that alone was more than enough to have M’bal’s eyes flutter open from where he was sprawled in his bed, arms wrapped around his pillow and face, which was previously buried within it, rising with a disgruntled look in the direction of the ever excitable beast.

Who is? Far more of a snappish mind-grunt than a correctly formed sentence, M’bal blinked again and then buried his face into his pillow once more when no answer came immediately. Deciding whatever his beast was crooning over wasn’t important, the bronzerider was just managing to dwindle toward sleep once more when Gugaroth’s voice lilted lightly into his mind once more, banishing all sense of sleep with the sudden shock of fiery lust. M’bal grunted, in surprise this time, and sat up rapidly.

I will make her mine! The reality and clear definition between his own mind and that of his beast wavered, and M’bal scrabbled to untangle himself from his blankets, fighting his dragon’s need as it pounded through his veins hot and heavy, the bronzerider toppling with very little grace onto the floor. He knocked his chin, the action causing his teeth to clash together and he bit his tongue, but the taste of his own blood only fuelled the lust crazy dragon, and Gugaroth gave a roar in answer to the challenge that had been issued, wings spreading as the dragon thrust himself into the air.

M’bal barely managed to pull his pants on, mouth full of bloody saliva as he darted out the door, clipping the frame with his right shoulder and yelping even as he spit once he knew he wouldn’t be dirtying his hut. Blind, the bronzerider pelted in the direction he seemed to know he should be heading in, vainly pleased that it was early enough that there were very few people out and about yet.

It never occurred to him to question who his dragon found lovely. By the time such a thought had occurred to him, he was buried in dragon lust.

>> M'bal failure XD But at least I can palm it off to him being dragon-randy XD

But she’s pretty! And often so kind to me!

Valerian barely kept his mouth from hanging open as Veeth argued with him over the green currently screeching and soaring above the weyr. Why did his dragon have to be so difficult and refuse to follow the rules he thought they had agreed upon? Better yet, screw the rules; why didn’t Veeth care about his discomfort? You’re being unreasonable. And shallow. Veeth replied with a pout and another light wiggle under Valerian’s hold.

“Me? You’re the one that wants to chase her because she’s pretty,” Valerian couldn’t outright deny he was being shallow though. Dogul disgusted him with the nose-picking and that ratty mess he called hair. The man himself may have been a decent fellow but Valerian didn’t want to look beyond the finger up the nose, clearly mining for a forgotten gem nor did he want to try being close to the stench any longer than possible. Classes had been interesting and Valerian was ridiculously pleased the Barracks had been large and he managed to get one with a window for constant fresh air.

Besides, there was one other point that made Valerian fight the force of Veeth’s lust creeping into his mind and bodily hold the dragon on the ground. Veeth, you know she’s unstable, Valerian switched to silently addressing his dragon since while they were only outside his hut, there would still be people around to overhear. Valerian didn’t care what was thought or said about him but even he knew it was a bit harsh to voice hatred or concern over the mental shape of someone’s dragon. Glieseth was a pretty green and she could be very sweet but it was obvious there was something wrong with her. The green could be loud and almost violent and Valerian didn’t like Veeth being near that side of the female. Honestly, and how he hated to think it considering his love of the beasts and the loss already experienced recently, he was surprised Glieseth hadn’t suicide yet and was simply waiting for the day it happened. She was mentally unstable and would likely drive the disgusting creature she bonded to insane which wouldn’t be beneficial for anyone.

“Please, Veeth,” Valerian tried begging but it was useless. Veeth shook a little harder and Valerian finally let go. A head nudge was given to Valerian’s chest as the blue crooned, Everything will be fine! I simply want her just this once, okay? It wasn’t okay, not to the weyrling that had won and lost more flights than Valerian thought was possible in a turn of chasing but the little blue had already taken off, his excitement building. Valerian’s dread had no choice but to take a backseat as that excitement took him over as well and the flight lust led him down a path that Valerian hoped in the back of his mind led to failure as one foot moved in front of the other.

I give chase.

It was mostly said for B'run's benefit. The normally quiet dragon didn't need to say anything, especially since he was already in the air. B'run had barely gotten out a half-asleep 'What?' before the lust hit him and he was staggering out of his hut and orienting on the source of his newfound attraction. Clumsily he pulled pants on, reaching for a shirt when everything else became a great deal less important and he found himself staggering out of his hut. Fortunately, he'd snagged the shirt in his fingers and clumsily pulled it on, not caring that it was backwards.

As soon he spotted the green, a snarl touched his lips.

Dogul's hair didn't bother him - His own was often in a stringy, greasy mess. The man's general dirtiness didn't bother him, either. He himself was, more often than not, dirty from work and not having time to catch a bath... But the smell. That irked him but it was too late to try to stop Olemuth to go elsewhere while the green flew. He'd heard of the green's... Mental problems, and reached out to Olemuth in concern.

Be careful, love.
Bites and scratches are to be expected.

Of course. The big bronze wouldn't put much concern on such things. He was far too concerned with the flight to be worried about being bitten or scratched. The worry was quickly pushed out of B'run's own mind as he moved towards Dogul. Vaguely he heard Olemuth's bellowed challenge above.