Welcome to Five Stone Weyr!

[Arista]

~Hope ya don't mind...let's see what M'ler does...~
Nerenth growled. He had lost? How had he lost?
He spread his wings to break his fall. He landed unhappily by M'ler.
M'ler sighed. There was that woman in the Caverns who had kept trying to make advances. It was time to accept.
Later, he and that woman went...somewhere...private.

[PhazonDragon]

Cradeth crooned softly to Nalith yet again, only this time his growl was lower, fainter, as the bronze weakened with the strain of the Flight as it dragged on. Nalith was still diving, and the other bronze suitors still giving Chase. Cradeth would have to pull out all the stops if he so badly wanted to win this Flight, for both his sake, and Ce’rel’s sake. He knew his bonded rider loved the young Sophia, even if they only ruled over the weyr for a few Turns at the most. Even so, Cradeth himself loved Nalith, and was ready to lend himself to the unforgiving rocky earth below. Wind whistled through his ears and over his streamlined body, but Cradeth didn’t falter. He didn’t want to give in, and show the golden Nalith that he wasn’t fit enough for the Flight.

Cradeth.

However, the gold’s seductive voice in his own head made the bronze’s hearts nearly stop. Was she choosing him? Did Cradeth win this Flight, did he Catch Nalith? His muscles burned and ached with the fatigue and strenuous activity. Nalith? My dear, darling Nalith has chosen me, of the four bronzes! Cradeth called cheerily. Nalith, though ahead of him, pulled up sharply and Cradeth followed suit. At least his glowing golden Queen didn’t plummet to her death like she threatened to. Cradeth beat his burning wings harder to catch up to Nalith’s shining form, and he swooped in close to her laboring body; as close as he dared without tangling themselves up. The gold’s tail wrapped around the bronze’s--a subtle mix of metallics--and Cradeth fell deep into the lust that plagued him the whole Flight.

As the two dragons in the sky intertwined themselves, below on the ground, Sophia had accepted Ce’rel again, and she offered a hand for the new weyrleader, again, to take and lead her off. Ce’rel slipped his hand into Sophia’s and grasped it tightly. Giving the weyrwoman’s hand a loving squeeze, the couple slipped away from the other riders involved in the Flight. Ce’rel did his best to keep a level head until they reached his quarters--a task getting harder with each step as his love for Sophia grew. “Sophia.. Sophia...” he kept whispering, adoring the sound of her name in his ears, and the feel of the word as it left his lips. Hurrying into the secluded room, Ce’rel shoved the door shut, and threw the lock, not wanting to be disturbed by anyone. In his mind, came the distinct tenor speech of Cradeth.

I told you it would work.

[akusma]

Misrath rorared loudly, eyes now a swirling a mass of red and orange that twined together at an alarming speed. He roared again, shaking his head, His wings snapped out, sharply catching an current of air and making his fall halt suddenly. He roared once more, mind dissolving into a mere mass of anger and hatred that was slowly blinding him in a sea of red and anger that refused to let up. His Queen had been stolen form his once again. Cradeth had taken his Queen from him. He screamed then, a harsh sound that cut through the air and would be heard all over the Weyr. No! This could not be! He had flown true after his Queen and now that pathetic creature had once again stolen her. She was lost to him again and he was once more forced to wait untill she rose once more. And he would wait. He would wait and the nexttime he would fight those that stood in his way. No one would hold him back from his Queen.

His eyes landed on the twining pair, maw lifting in a terrifying snarl and eyes flashing. It should not be this way. The Queen should be his, it should be him who sired the clutch that would soon be appearing on the sands. But no. It was not. He roared once more, spinning to saor away, eyes still fiery. He would rest. His wings ached and his head pounded. He would rest and wait for the next flight of his Queen. Then he would win her. He would not let anyone else win. His wings beat, tired and aching from the chase, and carried him towards his riders Weyr. Back legs touched down first onto the ledge outside, front legs following. He moved towards the beck before collapsing, leaning against the wall behind him. The whirling mass that was his eyes slowed down, becoming sluggish before they slowly closed. Next time she was his.

T'lar jerked, the screaming anger that echoed thoruhg his mind making him gasp and cluatch even tighter at his head. Mistrath was angry, oh so very angry. He gasped once more, only barely stopping himself from falling over forwards. Not in front of the Weyrleaders, he wouldn't embarrass himself any further. He already looked pathetic. He glanced up, watching the two leave through bleary eyes as his vision faded in and out. Shards it hurt. Slowly the pain faded, letting him breathe more easily. His heands relaxed, letting go of his head and dropping into his lap. His eyes were closed, trying to regulate his breathing. He wouldn't go back to this Weyr just yet. He didn't want to face Misrath, not while the Bronze was in this state. Slowly he stood up, wincing as his legs hurt from staying crouched for too long. He would find a nice place to sit, perhaps sleep for a while.