Last Catch Of The Day


Nara.jpg and Inefredath, Nona and Moreth (NPC'd by Nenienne), and R'ku and Naith (NPC'd by Fiala)

Date: 6/11/2011 - IC: Turn 3, Month 4, Day 3
Location: Nara's Weyr/Skies over Eastern Weyr
Synopsis: Inefredath's mating flight.
Rating: PG-18 for suggestive adult content
Logger: Ahnika (NPC'ing Nara and Inefredath)

The day is at its gloaming as Nara and Inefredath return to their weyr from their baths and oiling, respectively, with the latter one seeming to positively glow from the combination of being due to rise and the recent washing and oiling. While neither of the green pair could be said to be old maids, neither are they spring chickens at this. And so it is with the sense of what is coming and more of a subdued air about her than usual for the typically flirtatious, freeloving greenrider, that Nara lowers the rope ladder off her ledge for those whose dragons intend to catch and who aren’t considerate enough to drop them off on their way to the feeding pens first. It’s a long climb to be sure, but manageable for a fit dragonrider as dragonriders get regular exercise in their morning or evening PT. Then stripping out of the loose clothing she had put on after her bath, Nara wraps herself up in a thin robe. It might seem irregular for the woman who is not above walking around the Weyr naked when the occasion calls for it, but under such circumstances as a mating flight, she’s learned that it tends to avoid open brawling in her weyr if she at least has something to cover herself, that is, until the very end, of course. « The sky is so pretty now. Such patterns of lavender and pink and orange, with little points of stars dotting it!! I want to weave myself through it all. » Nara smiles as she adjusts some of the furs on her cot and nods, giving Inefredath, her long beloved companion, her blessing to depart and leave her alone in the weyr—that is, until the riders of the chasers start to arrive.

Shining and glistening from her bath and fresh oiling, Inefredath and her mottled seafoam green hide practically waves a banner to the male dragons of the weyr as she launches from her ledge and glides across the bowl to the feeding pens. There she wastes no time in selecting a choice, but small piece of the herd and snatches it away from the others, beginning to feast on its blood.

Moreth is considerate enough to drop his rider, a woman of about Nara's age, off on her ledge. Once she's on the ground, though, he wastes no time in getting to the feeding grounds, where he begins his blooding on a plump herdbeast.

Nut-brown hide gleams in the light, and a veteran brown backwings near the ledge, then lands briefly that his rider may dismount. Then he is off, making a line towards the feeding grounds, crooning softly before diving onto a likely herdbeast, blooding him almost daintily. His rider is a Thread-scarred man who must be somewhere between fifty and sixty, though no grey has managed to make its way into his black hair. His face is slightly flushed, and he inclines his head to the two ladies, laughing softly at a comment from his dragon.

Nara welcomes Moreth’s rider, Nona, with a quiet smile as the greenrider sinks down onto the edge of her cot and then another smile for R’ku as he, too, arrives. “Welcome,” Nara says and begins to divide her attention between the weyr and its occupants and the sensations and talking from her green down in the feeding pens. Shortly after the first two arrive, three more riders show up on the ledge, the last one climbing up the rope ladder to get there, short-of-breath and perspiring like mad, but he’s there.

In a kneejerk territorial reaction during such times, Inefredath’s multifaceted eyes tinge red as the other dragons show up in the feeding pens, crowding the usually shy and skittish little green perhaps without even actually being in her personal space. She still feels crowded and testy for it. She finishes blooding her first morsel and goes for a second one that has been herded close by from the arrival of the other dragons, and not costing her any energy to snatch it.

"We meet again," jokes Nona, since Nara is well-known throughout the Weyr and its small component of riders. She leans up against one of the walls and stares off toward the entrance, as if trying to see her dragon. Who is, at this moment, blooding his third beast. Once finished he sits back and watches the green and his competition with eyes whirling a reddish violet.

"Hello," murmurs R'ku, and his voice is softly husky. He looks around the weyr, taking it all in, nodding to himself. He murmurs a quiet greeting to the others as they arrive, then clasps his hands behind his back. Normally easygoing, he is tense with his dragon's mating excitement, and his own dark eyes have a near-draconian lustre to them.

Naith finishes blooding the beast, spreading his wings and snaking his head at the others when they get too close. Then he leaps to a second buck, killing it quickly and dipping his muzzle down that his tongue might flick to the blood. Yet his attention is always, first and foremost, on the green, and he croons to her enticingly.

Nara grins brightly at Nona and winks, “A pity only one dragon can catch in these affairs, eh?” For it is not uncommon outside of flights for Nara to have more than one rider enjoying her “hospitality” at the same time. Her attention then turns to R’ku, the oldest of the riders here whose dragons are chasing, and openly appraises the veteran. When her dark eyes turn next to consider the other three riders, she leans back on her cot, resting on her elbows while her thin robe falls open slight to reveal a good amount of cleavage. Finally her gaze takes them all in and she says, “I used to keep bottles of wine here for such occasions, and then you all,” well, not specifically them, but riders of chasers in general, “would try and brain each other with them, which is not at all the best use of a bottle of wine, so now I just save one for whoever catches. But there’s always tomorrow for those who don’t,” the woman says, her smile full of promise, and then her eyes take on a distant look as she begins to become lost in the scene with Inefredath.

Before she has fully drained her second herdbeast, Inefredath has had enough. The larger golds may need more before their mating flights, but not this smaller-than-average green. With little fanfare or taunting or primping in front of the boys whether they croon at her or simply ogle, Inefredath springs upward from her larger, stronger back legs and then pumps her wings for that gloriously beautiful twilight sky. « I will wrap myself up in such a pretty pattern of lights and color!! You cannot keep me from it!! » she declares to the male dragons.

Moreth is off in a flash, returning with « As if anyone would want to. It would be hard to make yourself look more glorious, but I wouldn't put it past you. » Then he silences, concentrating on closing a little of the initial gap from her sudden departure.

R'ku offers an honest smile, inclining his head briefly. Thread-scarred he may be, but he is clearly fit, his compact frame still lithe. "It would be a shame to waste good wine that way," he replies. Then his breath catches, and his eyes also go distant. There is something restrained about him still, as if the mental control is long past second nature.

Naith waits a moment, then leaps off himself, his wings arching and then beating the air, catching the thermals. « You *are* a pattern of light and color, » he answers back, his tone warm as sunlit butter. He stretches out, lifting into the sky.

Nara’s smile momentarily warms with shared sentiment with R’ku about wine, and then she becomes distracted by Inefredath’s launching and gaining of altitude. “Higher,” she murmurs softly aloud in encouragement.

Inefredath actually gives a brief burst of mental giggle, awkward and nervous, for the flattery, never having been as smooth with the males as her rider. As the other three males who joined a bit late, two blues and another brown, take to the sky a heartbeat after Moreth and Naith, Inefredath pumps her wings a little harder and faster, gaining an altitude and trajectory to her liking and, as any green would, using her agility to her benefit with jukes and rolls to keep the males guessing, coming close to being snatched away by one of the latecomer browns, only to deftly move out of talon’s reach at the last moment.

Moreth settles into a holding pattern for now, moving neither left nor right despite the green's enticement. His twilight blue glows eerily in the evening colors, so different from his hide of dark blue.

Naith continues to croon as he flies, the sound deep and rumbling. He arches his wings, gliding on the thermals, then flapping strongly to gain altitude and speed. He is not as agile as Inefredath or the blues, but he flies strongly, keeping up and waiting cannily, showing his own prowess now and again in an arch of his wings, a cunning turn towards her.

R'ku licks his lips, his hands flexing, his eyes half-closed. He steps closer to Nara, a longing ache clear in his eyes.

Nara closes her eyes now, letting her head fall back a bit, damp hair sweeping against the furs. Her body grows warmer and her breathing more shallow.

The crooning is distracting, pleasant as it is, as much as the buffeting wind at these heights are distracting, though less pleasant, what with the storm due to roll in soon. Another near miss by one of the latecomer chasing blues sends Inefredath dangerously close to Moreth, only to dip down and bank away, twirl up in a loop and come back down again, this time weaving between a blue and brown chaser coming from the opposite direction, turning on her wingtip for evasive maneuvering before turning at the end of the browns tail and off in a completely new direction, momentarily lost at the lovely pattern across the sky.

Moreth senses the green's distraction and almost has her in his grasp. After she slips away he begins following her maneuvers, no longer willing to take the middle ground. Then a near collision with a brown sends him off-kilter, and once he regains his composre he begins beating his wings to catch up.

Naith watches the green's antics, making certain to avoid the other brown and the blues in close quarters. Instead he remains a bit above them, watching and waiting for his chance. Crooning his desire. Distracting? No, it's supposed to be appealing… And when Inefredath turns in a new direction he chases after, above, his larger wings sending great gusts of air. And then, above her, he closes his wings and dives, coming even and crooning as he wraps himself around her, his wings still beating strongly.

R'ku has remained aloof from the other riders, and yet still moving closer, peripherally, to the bed. Yet as the brown closes on the green, he drops to his knees on the furs and, with a soft cry, reaches for the greenrider.

Nara gasps and then gives a soft moan of pleasure as she surrenders to R’ku’s hold, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him down onto the furs with her. All the other riders in the weyr are completely forgotten for the moment.

Inefredath trills in both startlement and pleasure as Naith’s strong and larger body wraps around her and she surrenders to it, and him, allowing him to carry them both down in altitude in those few long moments of blissful intimacy. « The colors … the patterns … » she muses contentedly.

The three riders whose dragons failed to catch sigh in turn and slump off to the edge of the ledge, waiting to be picked up or descend the rope ladder.

Nona quietly slips out to where a disappointed Moreth awaits her on the ledge. It's hard to tell who is comforting whom as they take off and head elsewhere.

Closing Credits Theme Song: Jesse McCartney - "Beautiful Soul"

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