I don't like thiss,
the blue announced to his rider as they prepared to shuttle another bag of firestone to the Wings high above and beyond the Weyr. We sshould be up there with them, not sstuck on the ground like winglesss wherriess.
Was Aniwetath always this irritable? Not always, but when the blue felt himself capable of a task, he was gung-ho for accomplishing that, not sitting on the sidelines as he was forced to do for now.
"I know you don't like it, Ani," Nalia retorted, sighing heavily as she finished tying off the firestone sacks to the blue's harness before swinging into the natural 'saddle' herself. "However, it's all we can do for now. Once we graduate, we'll have the luxury of going out there with the Wings ourselves." Personally, for the moment, Nalia was glad that they weren't up there with the older pairs, because she didn't feel herself confident enough in the task necessary of them. It was better to go into something as life-threatening as Threadfall entirely certain of oneself, after all, and she didn't wish to risk her beloved dragon just
yet. "Besides that, be grateful that we're actually allowed to go up there now, even if it's just supplying the Wings with firestone when they call for it."Doessn't mean I have to approve of it. It iss a wasste of my abilitiess. We are ready to fight, I'm certain of it.
Knowing any further arguing would be just as much of a waste, however, Aniwetath quickly abandoned the discussion. Now wasn't the time for such frivolity, and they were needed in the skies. With that, they were off, hopping between
and reappearing in the exact spot they had left mere moments beforehand. Inwardly smirking at his growing aptitude at the art of reappearing in the same spot that he had disappeared
from, he almost missed the sudden activity in the Weyrbowl. Nalia! Thread hass landed in the paddockss! Flamethrowerss are needed, sso I ssuggesst you get down there quickly,
the blue informed as he landed, crouching quickly to allow his rider an easier time dismounting.
Once she had slid off of Aniwetath's shoulder, the young woman made quick work of grabbing the nearest available flamethrower, checking to ensure that the nozzle was clear of any blockage before rushing towards the paddocks. She was grateful that she had already sent Aernan back to stay with her parents for the time being, and that she was only going to send for him to return when the Weyr needed fine runner stock. But that was neither here nor there, and as she made it to the paddocks, she glanced around for the burrows, spotting one fairly easily and hopping the fence in order to get closer to it. She weaved through the herdbeasts, reaching the burrow and sticking the nozzle into the hole created there before letting the agenothree loose to perform its duty, only pulling away when she was sure that the Thread in the burrow had to be dead. Glancing around her, she spotted another burrow, this one closer to another weyrling, one that hadn't flown just yet. "Ariya!" she called, remembering the young woman's name at the last second. "There's one just in front of you!"
She had fought Thread before, back when she had first arrived at the Weyr, but for some reason, this time felt vastly different from the others. Perhaps it was because she wasn't alone this time? As she continued about filling sacks of firestone, further preparation for when the Wings needed more of the acrid-smelling stuff, hazel eyes glanced towards the green patiently seated beside her. Kthoniath was everything she could have ever hoped for in a dragon, and even beyond that, but she was glad that they would be stuck within the confines of the Weyr during 'Fall for some time still. The growing bone firelizard on her shoulder stood at attention, one pale paw gripping her earlobe for better support as she watched the skies vigilantly. "Anything yet, Seika?" she asked, sighing in relief as the flitt shook her head slightly before returning to her task. Thread hadn't reached the Weyr yet, that was a relief.You act as if Thread is this horrible thing that we shouldn't even go near, my Razia,
Kthoniath mused, a hint of a giggle in her voice as her tail swished this way and that behind her. She would likely cause someone to trip, but she really didn't care at the moment; she felt happy enough to do it, and besides that, they wouldn't be mad at her for long. No one
could be mad at Kthoniath for very long, after all. We have to go up there one day, my dear. And don't you worry; we'll make Thread turn and run!
Chuckling a bit, Razia handed the latest filled bag of stone to the next person in the line, turning back to her dragon afterward and patting the gentle sea-green hide lovingly. "You, my love, are simply too much at times," she commented before Kthoniath deposited another bag in front of the young woman. "Oh, thank you, Kthoniath," she added with a smile as she went back to work, sorting various sizes of the nondescript stone and depositing them into the bags that surrounded her. It was a boring job when compared to being in the ground crew, and both had to be boring compared to actually being up there in the thick of it, but at the moment there was no other place that she wanted to be. She trusted the Wingleaders in the air to allow the Wings to flame the dread stuff before it even reached the ground, and the ground crews available would tackle any of it that happened to reach the ground. For now, all she had to worry about was filling sacks and making sure Kthoniath and Seika were alright.
Peace was broken, however, by the sudden sounds of a flamethrower going off, and Razia quickly swiveled around just in time to see one of the fools shaking the nozzle, splashing some of the acidic stuff onto the rider of the wingless brown from one of Valkryth's older clutches. She noticed that the dragon had gotten hit as well only after she sprinted from her spot, Seika chittering in complaint at the sudden movement and hopping into the air. Kthoniath settled into a lazy jog beside her rider, rushing to Purjth's side and crooning softly in an attempt to ease the pain even in the slightest. "Jaida?" she asked, making sure of the other woman's name before glancing at the rider's arm. "Here, dip your arm in this," she instructed, pulling a rather sizeable barrel of water closer as she motioned towards it. "It won't do much for the pain, but at least it will get the agenothree off of you," she added as she removed the cloth vest she was wearing, already tearing it into strips on the off chance that Jaida would need them.Oh, I'm sorry that happened to you, brave Purjth,
Kthoniath said as she rubbed her head against the brown's shoulder, crooning softly as she glanced down at the injured leg. It doesn't hurt too badly, does it? That fool should have watched what he was doing! I hope he gets punished soundly for hurting you and your rider.
Brown eyes closed for a moment, long fingers rubbing against his temple as he thought of the stressful time ahead of him. Thankfully, he had managed to get Anar into his cage, so that the kestrel wouldn't be flapping about with Thread falling all around him, but that did little to ease the anxiety on his part. It wasn't that he was concerned for himself, for he was convinced that he would do splendidly and that he would come out of his first actual Threadfall with no scores or other sorts of injuries whatsoever. It was more the worry for his uncle, who was up with the other full fledged riders in the thick of battle, that kept him on edge, one eye constantly glancing up towards the sky whenever he heard of a rider or dragon being injured. Liera and Versil, stuck in the Weyr as he was, would be in less danger than T'ere and his lovely black beast, Deruvianth. He opened his eyes just as quickly as he had closed them before picking up the firestone sack that one of the green weyrlings handed him to take to the fledged weyrlings, who he thought were decidedly few in number for the time being. The clutches that had produced the older weyrlings were a bit small, he had heard, while the latest few had provided the grounded weyrling wing with a good forty dragons waiting in the wings, so to speak.
Thinking back on the earlier events, when Threadfall had just started and the Wings already gone, he was grateful for the brief interaction with Versil that he had managed as they passed each other. The other young man was definitely something that helped his anxiety lessen, and the look in Versil's eyes had reassured him to the fact that T'ere obviously knew what he was doing, if he had managed to last this long as a rider in the first place. A part of him wondered if a dragon would find him worthy, and if so, what color would it be? A lovely black like T'ere's? Or perhaps a stranger, yet still lovely creature like Liera's Zath? Honestly, he would be just as happy if a dragon chose him or passed him over for Versil, since the elder lad had been Searched first. Besides that, Impressing meant being more social than he was used to now, and he wanted nothing to do with that life again. Sociality only led to heartache in the end; Rhaelinon had taught him that much, and he wanted little more to do with strangers than was necessary in his mind.
He noticed one of the weyrlings, the handsome bronze lingering around him obviously being that one's dragon, getting snapped at by one of the elder weyrlings, and Zakaerus narrowed his eyes at the red weyrling. This glare only worsened as the red simply took off, the rider not even bothering to make sure the younger bronze and his rider were well out of the way beforehand. The bronze's rider was worse off than his mount, a rather nasty laceration appearing in the young man's head at the force of the red's wing slamming into his scalp. Shaking his head at the insensitive way the red continued on, not even turning back to see if the bronze pair were alright after that experience. "Well, that was certainly rude of them," the young man muttered as he jogged over to the bronze dragon, who was now worrying over his bleeding rider. As soon as he arrived, he tore a large strip of cloth off of his shirt, gauging the amount he would need to at least close off the would to the air as he wrung it thoroughly through some water to take away any dirt or sweat that had happened to accumulate on it by then.
"Hey, you look like you could use a bit of help until the healers arrive," he greeted, smiling warmly as he kneeled down in front of the bronze weyrling, brushing a stray lock of his curly hair away from his face and making a note to trim it after this 'Fall was over. "That fool weyrling should have made sure you were out of the way before taking off like that. I hope he gets flogged," he commented, unaware that the bronze had made a similar promise to the rider. "I'm Zakaerus, by the way," he added as he took the damp strip of cloth and used a corner to wipe the blood off of the young man's face. The cut was deep, he could tell that already; not much he could do but wrap the cloth around K'lin's head and hope that it stopped the bleeding enough for the healers to do more with it. "I'm going to wrap this around that cut, to try to stop the bleeding. If it hurts at all, don't hesitate to tell me," he concluded, falling silent as he started to wrap the weyrling's head, trying to make sure it was tight enough to stop any more bleeding while trying not to hurt the young man further at the same time.
(( Any injuries short of lost limbs or other body parts is accepted for this group! 8D ))