Blazing Stars came from between just below Mayhem Wing, and somewhat behind the column of dragons. Their fewer numbers were spread over the same area as the larger wings, in one long stretched V. R'nianon was at the center of the line, and had placed Neira and X'ris at the far ends. They hadn't been training long together, but the entire wing was made of the best, and they would follow directions as they were given. For now, they would just help ease the initial attack of the 'Fall, then move through the fighting column as necessary to help clear the skies and bolster the other wings where they were being hit hardest.

The cloud of Thread moved over, and the silver rain started pouring down. With a blast of many dragon throats spewing fire, the first ranks hit the storm.

R'nianon watched for the few moments he had between thread reaching Mayhem and Thread reaching Blazing Stars. For quite a while, he'd been one of those fighting thread now, helping to direct that wing. Now he was in charge of this one. The faint sting of being removed from that wing vanished as soon as he remembered that. He'd been chosen to lead these riders, the elite few. No reason to pine after second place in a tenuous position such as that one.

At that point Thread got past the higher dragons and met with Blazing Stars, and he could happily stop thinking on such trivialities.

// Forward! Flame! // Mysaoth's deep voice called out to his wing, pushing forward and opening his mouth wide to blast a sheet of thread coming toward him. Ashes flew back over him and fell away to the wind. He continued on, and R'nianon turned to watch how his wing was faring. No serious problems yet. He looked down around Mysaoth's thick shoulders to look over the other wings. The lowest of them hadn't yet met the 'Fall. No problems yet. Keep fighting.

He gripped the straps as Mysaoth swerved to avoid a clump advancing on his wing out of his range.

---

Okay. Blazing Stars is a variable wing. It goes wherever there are problems in the other wings to help. Its members are also responsible for areal catches, one of the smaller dragons if it is a rider and one of the larger for a dragon. In the Plot postings, I will occasionally offer an opportunity to catch someone, or you can keep an eye on the other wings' threads and volunteer directly for it. Also in the Plot postings will be directions on where Blazing Stars might be needed.

Happy fighting. ^^

As the Wing popped out of between, just below and behind the Weyrleader's Wing, Aneiva could feel her heart racing out of nervousness. This wasn't just her first time flying against Threadfall; this was something much greater than that. Her Wing was ridiculously close to the point where dragon and Thread would first meet, where the dragons' flames would sear the deadly silver rain from the skies before it could reach the ground and do real damage. For as long as she could remember, Thread wasn't exactly a problem for her and her family. After all, what harm could the stuff do out in the barren desert? But here, in the lush lands surrounding her new home of Libertas, the Threads could do a lot of damage, indeed. And for her to be where she was, chosen to be a part of such an important Wing...well, the young woman simply couldn't be more excited and nervous in the same breath. Are you ready, Mae? she asked her dragon, patting the brown and green neck as she struggled to calm her nerves. Maemeath deserved that much, since Aneiva had every bit of confidence in her dragon.

Beneath her, the brown-green rumbled in amusement. She was larger than any green, but she still posessed the nimble grace of one. She was also nearly as durable as any of the browns in her Wing, and she would be able to last nearly all of the Fall with no problems. In the young dragon's eyes, all was well, and the two of them were just about to do what every dragon and rider were bred and trained to do; sear Thread from the skies of Pern. As if I would admit it if I wasn't ready, Maemeath replied, keeping her eyes on platinum Mysaoth, ready to surge forward and flame at his call. But to answer truthfully, my dear Eiva, yes. I was born ready for this. She didn't want to admit to her rider that she was just as nervous. This would be their first Threadfall together as part of a fighting unit; any time before that was just to deliver firestone to the Wings before heading back to the Weyr to await the call on another dragon.

Neither dragon nor rider had time to think more on the matter, however, as the sky blurred, the telltale silvery flashes announcing the arrival of Thread into the airspace. Aneiva gulped to steady her nerves as she tightened her left hand around the harness that kept her on her dragon's back, ready to keep herself there should something happen to the straps themselves. The young woman had always been one to think ahead, and had always prepared for even the rarest possibility that could happen. Then, Maemeath heard Mysaoth's call, and the brown-green surged forward, opening her great maw and letting loose a carefully calculated blast of flame, turning the clump of Thread in front of her to harmless black char before the flames dissipated. Wonderful job, Maemeath! Aneiva cheered, glad to see that her training with the dragon in controlling her flame was working well for them. Perhaps this Fall wouldn't be so bad, after all!

By the First Egg, what had he been thinking? Signing up for that new wing? This was his-their first 'Fall. Was he right, to put himself and Tomomith in such danger? A normally argumentative voice echoed inside of his head. Today it was warm and soothing, smooth as silk with an undercurrent of excitement.

We have skills to offer that few can match. It would make no sense to hold ourselves back to please the other, inferior beings in this Weyr. Now come, get on my gorgeous tack. Tomo does not want to be late.

The dragoness ruffled her wings, head snaking forward in what was usually an aggressive manner. Now it was more excitement than anything. Kal'cer grinned, lightly slapping the dainty muzzle of his dragon before retreating inside to grab his gear.

Thanks to relentless drills of their beloved instructor, the Green pair were out and ready in record time. Both crouched eagerly, muscles tense as they waited for the signal. R'nianon directed them between, then they were hovering.Waiting. The Rider fidgeted,fingering the sack next to his leg. Tomomith was full of stone, he had no reason to worry. They had practiced for this moment for months. Tomomith was a dragon,she was born to flame,she would be ready-

The call rang out! Mysaoth issued the order and then Silvery death was upon them. Tomomith belched flame, flanks quivering and eyes wide, orange with wrath. The tendrils dissolved under the enthusiastic onslaught and Tomomith swept forward eagerly. Kal issued a warning to is beast.

Love, you are swift. Don't waste your speed so early,conserve your strength.

The mottled dragoness was beyond speech right now, so she just sent an affirmative feeling. She flapped once, gliding as much as she could. Tomo knew she wouldn't last the entirety of the fall, so she twisted and swerved, flaming much in the manner of a dancer. She tried to stay in formation, but some maneuvers took her out of line.

The black dragoness blinked from between below the Mayhem Wing with the rest of her new comrades. V'kail craned his neck, checking their position on the right wing of their V formation, near the bronze-white dragon who was their new Wingsecond. Hurriyyahth rumbled a cursory greeting before she checked the skies. Their new training had been intense but the blackrider and his dragon were both well prepared for it and had had no problem adjusting. V'kail had worried that Riya might be anxious about being in a different wing than her mate, but the black showed no sign of regret. Instead, her ambition was even greater than before and she diligently stuck fast to their decision. It hadn't been easy, keeping S'rin and Arelath out of the loops, but they had orders and so kept silent.

Are you ready, love?

I am, Mine. This is why we were born. To be given even greater freedom to Fight is an honor. I am glad Akayla chose us.

Mysaoth's call to fight was echoed with a roar from the black and she shot forward as a sheet of silver Thread slipped past the Mayhem Wing to her right. With practiced ease, she dipped her right wing and swung to sear the age old enemy in a stream of fire. V'kail turned his head as ash swept upward and coated his face. Hurriyyahth rumbled an apology before swinging back to rejoin her wing. All was going well so far. The blackrider only hoped that it wasn't going too well and that something might happen to them.

The pair watched as their Wingleader swerved to avoid a clump of Thread and a few of her other wingmates sear their own silver threads from the sky. Hurriyyahth turned her gaze upward to see if any other clumps had escaped the higher wings without their notice. So far, everything seemed to seared and charred with even regularity and precision. The black waited, looking for another opportunity, keeping an eye on the skies while V'kail watched the wings above and below.

Haieketh burst forth from the cold of between at the rear of the Wing. X'ris checked over their formation, and was pleased to see that everyone was in their correct places. As he watched the Wingriders, he felt a burst of pride. Their Wing was a collection of the best, and today they would prove their mettle for the first time.

Best of luck, my Wingmates, Haieketh called to everyone, a few words of encouragement before the fight began. Then there was no more time for thought, because the silver ribbons had reached them.

Haieketh followed the rest of the Wing forward, opening his mouth to let forth a great burst of flame. The clump that Mysaoth had swerved around was charred to dust in its wake. X'ris ducked, avoiding the specks of ash from both his own dragon's work and that of the dragons ahead of them.

Not only did X'ris have to keep an eye on what Haieketh was doing, he also had to watch the wingriders. Maemath and Hurriyyath were doing remarkably well, and he was impressed by Tomomith's speed. He just hoped the murky green didn't wear herself out too quickly.

A few strands from the Wing above twisted down to them, and Haieketh flamed again. X'ris tightened his hands on the straps, taking a deep breath. The fight had only just begun.

This was the day. At last it had come. Their first Threadfall. Neira felt Sar's shoulders flex and relax with every beat of his wings. Arrayed behind the wing at the end of the V, Neira had a perfect view of the status of the Wing. R'nianon led in the front of the formation, and X'ris was to her right, at the end of the other arm of the formation. Adrenaline pumped through her veins. No practice during Weyrling training had ever been like this. The Wings arrayed themselves above them, the queen's Wing below, Mayhem just ahead. Neira rolled her shoulders and flexed her hands, trying to keep herself loose in order to last the entirety of Fall. Sar rumbled beneath her, his voice a bit higher than usual thanks to his nervousness.

We'll be fine, love, she said reassuringly to him, patting his flank as she did so. A rumble started in Sar's belly, one that Neira recognized as the firestone in his stomach being digested and the gasses ready to spout forth into flame. We've trained for this and Valkryth wouldn't have placed us here if we couldn't do it. The bronze-white turned a yellow and crimson eyes towards his rider, his steady rhythm faltering slightly with his nerves of his first Fall. He couldn't do poorly today. His Wing was relying on him!

I will do my best, my Neira, the bronze-white intoned in higher pitches than were pleasant, making Neira's ears ring slightly. But Sar coughed once, a bit of smoke on his breath and turned back towards the front of the Wing, his eyes scanning the skies. As soon as Thread falls I will be better, meaning he wouldn't be as nervous. Neira smiled behind her scarf and patted Sar's flank again, looking to R'nianon ahead of them for the signal. They did not have to wait long.

THREAD! With a trumpet, Sar's entire demeanor changed. His nervousness disappeared in the fury of battelust, all yellow in his eyes lost in a swirl of bright crimson. He followed in formation, making sure those ahead of him stayed as safe as possible in a Threadfall. They all seemed to be flaming well...

Above you! Neira yelled into his mind and Sar quickly dipped to one side and spun, his mouth agape as flame seared the Thread that could have taken his life had his rider not warned him. Letting the ash fall, Sar reclaimed his position in the Wing and continued scanning the sky.

Conserve your flames, Wingmates. No telling what this Fall could bring. Sar's voice was deeper now, the bronze side of his hide taking full control in the heat of battle. He easily seared a single falling Thread that had escaped Mayhem's wings, an easy rhythm to his flight. He would last long in this one. He looked forward to it.

A loud bellowing roar and the pumping of wings signalled the arrival and Kirath and Reinn from their jaunt between. The crimson colored dragon circled widely before he joined his new Wing in the sky for the very first time. Excitement coursed through the normally violitile Red as he took in his wingmates. This flight was sure to be an exciting one now that he wasn't limited to one spot like before.

Reinn grinned as her dragon's excitement leaked through to her. She was elated to be flying with the newest wing of the weyr and wondered what sort of trials she had to look forward to during this fall.

Reinn! Thread comes! I fly!

That was all the warning the young woman got before Kirath took them into a spiralling dive in order to avoid a clump of thread before he rejoined the formation after he'd flamed the clump successfully into harmless ashes. Reinn didn't have time to consider the dangers anymore as Kirath brought them to where the rest of their Wing had already begun to meet Pern's deadliest foe.

Wainne swallowed with no avail. The lump still sat heavy and tight at the back of her throat and her stomach continued it sudden obsession of flips and loops. Her fingers, protected within her soft wherhide gloves, gripped Norabequth's riding straps and relaxed and gripped again. This was really happening.

Calm yourself, WainneMine. I was hatched for this.

"I wasn't hatched for this!" Wainne squeaked breathlessly, barely resisting her urge to bury her face in the green's spicy hide. Nora shifted, wavering on a buffet of wind and heaved a dragon-sized sigh.

I am part of you and you are part of me. We have trained for this. We will fly, Mine, and we will flame. As if that settled any further protestations, Nora turned to watch Mysaoth intently before look once more to the skies and the shadows of dragons flying in the wings above. The call came in the same instant that girl and dragoness recognized the flash of silvery Thread. A few strong wing beats carried the pair up towards the menace.

Instinct began to kick in. Wainne hunkered low over Nora's neck, sighting between the familiar dark green headknobs. She winced behind her goggles as Nora flamed, bright fire charring the Thread until it disintegrated into ash.

Above.
Above.

Both spotted the clump falling in a gap between the flashes of hide and fire, and climbed towards their enemy. This battle had begun long before, and would continue long afterward. But the battle kept hearts pumping, muscles stretching, wings beating...the battle kept them alive.

From the back of the Ruby-Blue dragon, brown eyes peered out to survey the morning scene. Nidea's short cropped hair was even more tousled and tangled than usual thanks to the gusty winds that buffeted the strands about her head. Even through the noise of the wind and shouted orders, the girl could hear her heart beat- or thought she could. In truth, she could feel, more than hear, the blood pounding in her ears. Adrenaline was coursing through her veins; it erased all thoughts of the fatigue she may have felt earlier. They were here, their first Threadfall in the new wing that they had worked so hard to join.

"Nidea of Salmacinth, Wingriders of the Blazing Stars Wing." Her whispered words were quickly swept away underneath the noise around them but they were filled with both reverance and excitement. Her dragon sent bemused tendrils through the wave of anticipation at the words. Salmacinth thought her little Rider took things far too seriously at time. Nidea remembered when she had first heard rumor of the new wing that Akayla had created. At first the idea had seemed strange, they had no need for another wing; until she heard more tale of its purpose. A wing that would be variable, not limited to a specific zone of the sky. One that would go wherever it was needed; one that required the best they said. Immediately she knew that this was her chance. She belonged in that wing, that was the place she had been looking for in her turns at the Weyr. From that moment on she had begun training to hone the skills that she thought the weyrwoman might be looking for from the future Stars riders. It had been hardwork, but worth it and not without the desired reward.

She remembered when they had approached her; when all of their extra training had paid off. And there was so much more to it than she had initially heard- though in hindsight that was a good thing as the ...secondary purposes of the wing was not something that should be spreading through the Weyr. Spying and scouting, the Weyr's first guard against the Amaris threat. The idea was exhilirating. She had thrown herself into their training; they had to work to catch up to the wings that had been in place for turns. It was different to get used to the collection of new dragonpairs, each with strengths and weaknesses that had to be balanced out and the new style of fighting the age-old enemy. Though a few sessions had delved into the more secretive side of their purposes, most had been focused around battling Thread. And there had been many of the training sessions to get the wing up to speed. On top of her chores and duties as a rider, it left Nidea wanting for more sleep than she been gettig the last couple sevendays.

But now was the time to forget weariness and for training to pay off. Thread had been predicted to fall and preparations had been happening since the first light. With a belly full of stone and another bag tied to their straps, Nidea and Salmacinth were ready when the call went up of the first sighting of Thread. R'niannon had placed them in an inverted "V" formation, one that they had worked on before. She was the second from the end of one arm of the "V" and waited tensely beside their wingsecond as the Wing above them met the first strands of Thread in ancient battle. Her legs gripped tightly to the hide beneath her and her fingertips were tucked beneath the straps, comforted by the pressure. She couldn't help but stare out at the wing. They were small in numbers, only fourteen strong at the moment. In the interview they'd told her that the numbers could very extensively growing or dropping as needed. No one's spot was certain; if they faltered in training or their skill set was no longer needed they could be removed to keep the Wing running at its highest efficiency. Nidea vowed that they would not be removed. She was one of the youngest members, only Wainne the Greenrider was younger and she shared her age with a Brownrider; but she and Sal had more experience together than they did. In fact the Wing showed a great variety of ages and dragons, but it didn't dissuade Nidea's urge to do well and prove her worth to this wing.

Her twisting thoughts and memories were broken by the Wingleader's call. The first strands of thread had slipped through the Mayhem Wing. Now was their turn. “It’s time,” Nidea remarked in excitement. Salmacinth chortled as they followed their wing forward on Mysaoth’s command.

Yes, NideaMine, it is time. I need not ask if you are ready, and you need not ask if I am. Be careful, though, RiderMine. If you were any more eager I fear you would leap from my shoulders and begin to flame and fly yourself.

I am not too eager, if that’s what you’re saying. Nidea retorted. You know how hard we’ve worked for this, now is our time to shine.

And we will shine and fight together.

Nidea grinned as her eyes found their first silvery victim. Always. She didn’t need to direct her dragon, Salmacinth had spotted the rogue tendrils as well and dipped from the formation to char them in a fiery blast from her maw. It had begun.

Stupid Weyrlings! Necromicath growled. He had been the last one to be suited up with firestone and had been late for the first bit of thread. He growled even as Jonia stroked her dragon's neck.

We are here now and that is all that matters, Jonia said soothingly. Necromicath had to admit she was right. Still he grumbled and flew to where he was needed. He saw that the wingleader could be in trouble. It looked like the thread was close to blowing into Mysaoth's face. The blue pair was not about to let that happen. Plus that was there position anyhow. They banked right into position and flamed the silver thread that would have hit mysaoth's eyes if it had not been taken care of.

Jonia looked closely at Mysaoth and was happy they had gotten there when they did. Mysaoth would not have seen the thread if it had hit him because of of the ash in his eyes. The pair pulled forward out of position slightly so that if more thread fell they would be able to protect Mysaoth untill he could actually see.

Had Hurriyyahth not been as diligent in her nature in performing her duties, the black might have ended up with most of her wing torn apart by the Thread that threatened her and her rider. She'd never taken her eyes off of the sky above and when the glittering silver enemy snaked toward her from above in a quicksilver stream, she was ready. But in spite of her quick thinking, the leading edges of the Thread lightly touched her wing sails. Letting out an angry rumble that turned into a full roar, she snapped her left wing toward her body to take it out of harm's way. She could feel the fire rising from her belly and with a quick twist of her head, flamed the Thread as it passed by where her wing had been but a moment ago before blinking into between.

V'kail had to hold on tight as their flight was altered from the furled wing and the sudden jump to between and back. Most of the Thread had been charred into ash and floated down toward the ground harmlessly, but some had escaped Hurriyyahth's initial flame. Already turning as she reemerged, she banked more and shifted into a dive to follow the remaining silver threads, stretching her wing out again to follow it down before it could reach the wing below. Another flame wiped out the rest and Hurriyyahth pulled out of the dive before she reached the lower wing's formation.

V'kail leaned over to look at Riya's left wing where the Thread had managed to land. A thin hole about two feet long, looking much like a knife-slash, marred her wingsail between her third and fourth digits. Are you all right, Riya? Can you still fly well? The black didn't seem to be having too much trouble, but ichor slicked over her wing. For now. It pains, but I can manage. I can't give up so soon. The wing needs me. The blackrider snorted. The wing would rather have you alive and well instead of risking yourself and others by staying in the air. Hurriyyahth rumbled softly but did not reply. She had to stay in. She was needed, she knew it. It was really just a scratch and her flying wasn't too bad, just a wobble here and there. They could do this.

Come on, love. Let the healers look at you. There's nothing wrong with leaving so soon. And you never know, they might just let you back in with a warning to be more careful. The black hissed, stubbornly refusing to leave her new wing and fly back to the ground. Nothing less than an order from their Wingleader would make her desert her position. They were fine. She was fine. You don't have to prove yourself, Riya, you know that. Please go down. The black flew on and ignored V'kail. She could still fly and had plenty of flight left. A little ichor was nothing compared to battle. You couldn't say you had fought bravely at war without a few scars to show for it. V'kail sighed but continued to try to reason with her as the wing continued to move on and fight Thread.

Ash from above sweeped down in a visible cloud from the first wave of flame. Mysaoth created a cloud of his own as a clump passed down beside him, then raised his head and caught a shot of ash in his face. The stinging hot particles found his eyes and sucked into his nose, and the dragon roared with pain, his eyes snapping shut.

R'nianon straightened immediately and looked first to his injured dragon, then up at the sky as Mysaoth dropped his head and rubbed at his eyes to clear them, leaving them both vulnerable to an attack. "Mysaoth between!" he yelled, seeing a cloud of thread descending quickly upon them. The platinum did not hesitate. In a moment he was gone, the thread flashing gold the instant before black enveloped everything.

//Mysaoth?// he questioned in the brief lapse of reality. //Ash in my eyes, I'll be fine in but a moment back in the air. No scores,// the dragon briefed him, appearing again in reality upon the last syllable. Air exploded around them, the sound deafening after the silence of the void. They were slightly behind their place in the line, but the thread clump was already gone, a smoldering cloud dissolving below them, under fire from the vivid blue Necromicath that had apparently just appeared and joined their place. Mysaoth took a few moments as the blue covered for him to clear his eyes, then surged forward back into his place.

//Well flamed, Necromicath,// Mysaoth acknowledged, his voice grateful and firm, urging the blue back to his place in the V. R'nianon waved a thanks to the pair then turned quickly back to his duties. Gratitude was in order, but there was more urgent business at hand. //They did well,// he allowed himself, speaking briefly and silently with Mysaoth as the dragon rose to catch an over-flying string of thread, a note of pride in his voice. //They are the best. That's why they're here,// the dragon answered, his voice level and affectionate.

The quiet moment over, R'nianon looked back over the wing to see how they were faring. Several dragons trailed ichor, but none had left yet. A promising start, but valiance counted for nothing of dragons hurt themselves needlessly. //Mysaoth,// he prompted, and the dragon acknowledged the request at once. //Sarasaameth, Haieketh, tell Yours to keep an eye on the dragons, make sure none of them overtax themselves. Order out the ones that will hurt themselves.// His voice was deep but clipped, giving the orders as briefly as possible to keep from distracting them too long. His jaws opened and another bunch of thread turned to ash.

R'nianon leaned forward and looked again to see if any wings needed their assistance.

Aneiva was surprised that the 'Fall was going along as smoothly as it was, to be quite honest. After hearing some of the older riders talk about how the wind could make Thread so unpredictable, she was amazed that the Thread was actually being rather...tame, if one could use that term...around her and Maemeath. Perhaps the silvery strands were giving the pair a break? As crazy as that sounded, since Thread did not really seem to be a sentient creature like herself and her dragon, it was the best thing that her adrenaline pumped mind could think of to explain why the chimeric dragon she was riding hadn't been scored by the stuff yet. This was their first 'Fall, after all, and it was inevitable for one or both to make a mistake and wind up scored in her mind. Aha! There it was! A clump of Thread drifted far too close for comfort, and as Maemeath flamed it, the hot ash drifted behind the brown-green head, the wind carrying it right into the rider's face. Stray bits of ash, still smoldering from Maemeath's flame, singed any bare skin it happened to come into contact with before Aneiva brushed it off of her. Good old inevitability...couldn't do anything right without it.

Maemeath craned her neck around, for the purpose of ensuring her rider hadn't been hurt as well as to receive more firestone. Did any of that catch you, Aneiva? the chimeric dragon asked, her voice and eyes both tinged with concern as she chewed the stone that her rider supplied for her. She hadn't anticipated on the wind blowing in that direction right as she flamed, and while she had gotten some of her own flame licking at her face, her main concern was her rider's safety. The wind shifted, and I did not think to anticipate for something like that.

I will be fine, Mae. Just focus on Thread for now, dear, she whispered, patting her dragon's shoulder reassuringly as she scanned the skies near them for more Thread to flame. When she didn't spot any in their immediate vicinity, she turned in the harness to see how her wingmates were doing. As she and Maemeath were closest to Haieketh, she gave Mae a silent order when she saw the Thread falling toward the brown's back, still far enough above him for the chimeric pair to rush over and flame it to help protect the Wingthird and his rider. Mae, warn Haieketh that you are about to flame above him anyway, she mentioned to Maemeath as they neared the clump of Thread, falling ever closer to the larger dragon's hide. Better to be safe than sorry, after all.

Maemeath knew that it was a good idea to listen to what her rider had to say, so just before she opened her mouth to flame, she sent a warning to the mind of the brown flying just below her. I am about to flame a clump of Thread above you, Haieketh. Try not to move too far up for a moment, she warned just as a spout of flame snaked from her jaws, burning the Thread into harmless ash that drifted below and behind her on the wind. She bugled to the brown as she exited his airspace, making sure he understood that she was gone so he could focus once again on fighting. Oh, dear! Look at that, Aneiva! Maemeath's sudden outburst startled her rider into glancing around like a leaf caught in a violent wind, trying to figure out what her dragon wanted her to look at. Hurriyyahth just got caught on her wing. Gashed her sail, the brown-green commented, flaming another clump as she contemplated what to say to the black in question. It appeared that she was being her usual stubborn self, refusing to go back and have a healer look at her wing. While she argued with her rider, ichor was leaking out of the score, soaking her wingsail in the greenish liquid.

Hurriyyahth, I know you wish to keep fighting, but you must get that looked at, she called to the black female, veering to the right to dodge a half-charred patch of Thread before it could catch her wingtip. You are of greater use to your wingmates alive and well. And look, you are dripping ichor all over your wing!

AD0C00

[WIP :: Posting an outline to fill in tomorrow after work]

Kirath performs a quick corkscrew spin in the air to avoid a clump of thread while at the same time turning his head to flame the clump. As he's righting himself, he comes head-first into the ash that hit Ruby-Blue Salmacinth's rider; which blinds him and makes him accidently blink between in suprised shock.

A short yelp from Reinn is all any of their wingmates here before they disappear. Three breaths, four, then five, and they finally reappeared, Kirath still disoriented. The Red curses violently at Salmacinth and her rider as if it was there fault.

In a move that is part desperate and part crazy, Reinn loosens her riding straps and shifts to get at Kirath's head to wipe the ash away. After nearly falling twice she at last manages it and quickly tightens her straps properly.

Kirath asks over her worriedly and Reinn returns the gesture. After both make sure they are unharmed, they agree to be more careful and then announce they are returning to the Fall.

There had been no pep talks or nervous assurances between the second Platinum pair of the wing as they prepared for 'Fall, and even now they remained calm and focused. For the first few minutes, J'nae had fought the urge to watch over they younger pairs, but the thread itself had quickly taken up all of his attention. If it could be said that he'd been nervous about anything as Threadfall approached, it was that the less experienced pairs might be unprepared for this unorthodox style of Threadfighting.

Of course, it was Citlalith who'd brought it into perspective for him, reminding him that no one would have been chosen for this wing if they were not more than adequately prepared to meet whatever task they were put to. He'd also argued that if anyone were to have trouble adjusting to a different style of fighting, it would be more likely to be the older pairs than the younger, as they new ones would not have already formed habits that may be unsuited to their current duties. Not that J'nae and Citlalith anticipated any problems of their own. Drills with the new wing had prepared them for working together, though he knew that drills didn't completely prepare one for actual 'Fall.

Obviously there had been little to worry about, a fact J'nae might have noticed had he still been watching the others. That was not his duty however, and so he left that to Neira and X'ris.

So far 'Fall had gone fairly smoothly for the Platinum pair, though they'd had a few close calls dodging thread carried by rogue gusts of wind. Still, they were so far unscathed.

The black dragoness shifted her attention as one of their wingmates tried to get her to see a Healer. Her lips curled into a snarl but she held it back. She knew the brown-green was right. She just didn't want to admit it. V'kail put a hand on her neck, his voice soft. "Riya, dear. Please. Just let them patch you up and you'll be back up here fighting Thread in no time. Maemeath is right. Beesides, you know Arelath and S'rin are going to be breathing down our necks if you don't." Hurriyyahth settled under his touch and finally, a small shudder ran through her as she submitted. It wasn't easy, but she did. That's my girl. Be sure to relay to Mysaoth that we are Grounding for the moment.

Mysaoth, I've been Scored on my wingsail. My rider and I are seeing to a Healer.

Message sent, the black folded her wings and dropped, easily making her way around the lower wings until she was on the ground and spreading her injured wing for the dragon healers to do their work. V'kail dismounted, taking the necessary time to have the ground crew refill their bags with firestone. He called over a weyrling for replacement sacks while keeping an eye on Hurriyyahth.

"Stop fidgeting. You'll only make it worse."

Hurriyyahth snorted and turned her head so that she could watch the progress, keeping very still so she wouldn't disturb the Healers. Will it take very long? The blackrider snorted, fisting his hands on his hips. "Do I look like a Healer to you? Don't bother them with silly questions. They've got enough on their hands."

So far the Fall seemed to be going fairly steadily. Not one was hurt and Thread seemed to be falling in predictable patterns. So far. Neira glanced about her as Sar flamed a clump of Thread to ash, raising her arm to fend off the falling ash. The bronze white was fighting well considering this was his first Fall. Well, it was both their first Fall. And as Wingseconds at that. Neira was beginning to feel the pressure as Thread began falling more erratically. Sar ducked to one side in order to dodge Thread and flame it in the next move, spinning to get back in his position at the end of the Wing line. From his position, Sar could see everything happening in the Wing. It gave him a distinct advantage over Mysaoth who led the point of the Wing, but then again, Mysaoth led them to where they were supposed to go. Sar's job was to be support for the Wingleader and keep an eye on individual wingriders. He took his job very seriously. When things began to get worse, Sar felt the pressure and roared at Thread, the bronze part of him taking full control.

Hurriyyahth! the bronze-white bugled after the black female returned from Between with a gash in her wingsail. Sar flew forward a few spaces in the formation along the inside of the other dragons until he was behind and a little above the black. He flamed a clump of Thread to ash as he took in the full scope of her injury. Return to the Weyr for Healing, he ordered, his voice a deep bass, brass rumble to accompany Maemeath's gentler tone. You may return to Fall only if the Healers say you are able. Sar was not going to let someone be stupid on his watch. He slowed his momentum and drifted carefully back to his position in the Wing, watching as the black--thankfully--winked Between to the Weyr, no doubt unhappy at not being able to fight. Sar wouldn't want to return either if he were injured. If Neira got hurt though, he would return in an instant.

And I would tell you you were a sharding dimglow if the injury were anything less than Threadscore, Neira informed her dragon, waiving to Aneiva as the bronze-white drifted passed the brown-green pairing. Sar nodded to Maemeath in thanks for her help in getting Hurriyyahth to see reason. He hoped nothing happened to her this Fall. They weren't even graduated riders yet... It would be terrible if she were injured for their ceremony.

Stay alert, Maemeath, he said rather shyly as he retook his position at the end of the Wing. He must still not be over that part of his personality. Neira doubted he would ever get over it. Somehow, she just couldn't imagine Sar without him getting all blushy and nervous around a female, especially Maemeath. But it seemed neither Neira nor Sar could rest for very long, as Neira caught sight of a certain redrider doing something very stupid.

Sar! Kirath's rider! Neira yelled to her dragon, pointing to the precariously balanced redrider as she loosened her straps to brush ash from Kirath's eyes. Sar flamed a clump of Thread as it neared him, ducked out of the way of the ash and regained his position before turning his gaze towards Kirath.

Kirath! Tell your rider to remain tight in her straps! the bronze-white bugled to the red as he shifted his wings slightly with a passing wind current. Another flame took out a rogue tendril of Thread, breaking his instructions momentarily. You can shake ash from your head. Don't endanger your rider with something you could easily do yourself! The fact that Reinn had nearly fallen from her dragon's neck in the stupid risky maneuver did not help Sar's protective instincts in the slightest. He rumbled darkly to himself, not understanding how a dragon would let their rider perform such a risk for something that was easily accomplished with the rider safely buckled into the straps.

I'm not going to be unclipping any time soon, Sar, Neira reassured her dragon, mentally reaffirming his actions with the red pair. He was taking his job as Wingsecond very seriously, not wanting any of their wingmates getting hurt unnecessarily. Sar was protective by nature. It would serve him well as a Wingsecond, Neira thought. Or rather, hoped.

((blah. I am SOO sorry this is so late. I hope you don't mind, Silver, that I posted to V'kail and Riya even though you'd already responded to Maemeath. And I hope you don't mind, Keistra, that I responded to your outline instead of waiting for you post. I'm just so far behind in this... And this is such a failpost. But whatever. At least it's a post))