Landing Field(#33RDJ$)

Araneth ambles across from the Western Weyrs.

V'ten strides over from the Western Courtyard.

Kayjay slips a strap through a buckle, pulling it tight, as she quietly talks with Suriath, their unspoken conversation bringing an occasional distracted chuckle to the brownrider's lips.

Ryanath lumbers over from the lush Lakeside Meadow.

G'mar strides over from the Western Courtyard.

Kaelyth lumbers over from the lush Lakeside Meadow.

Aithne makes her way onto the field, Araneth ambling after her. The pair seem to be having some sort of conversation, judging from the muttering of the human half of the pair.

Davanoth ambles across from the lush Lakeside Meadow.

P'nell strides over from the lush Lakeside Meadow.

Varanth lumbers over from the lush Lakeside Meadow.

One of the drudges has set out glows about the entrance to the weyrhall, while another is doing the same across the landing field, for the dragonhealers. Everywhere, the weyr is bustling in preparation for the upcoming evening Threadfall.

Telinda heads over from the Weyrs, pushing back her goggles and fixing them to the top of her helmet temporarily. "Evening evening" she calls out, grinning as she stops by Dawnwind. "Nervous? Is asked of the weyrlings in general?"

G'mar looks from his lifemate to the Weyrwoman. He looks around, nodding slightly in answer to the question, though he says nothing.

P'nell nods slightly as he fiddels absently with his uniform, green eyes flitting back and forth nervously. "A little." P'nell admits freely before glancing back up at Varanth.

T'hvan strides over from the Western Courtyard.

A'den turns from his scan of the landing field in order to double-check Vercath's straps. Satisfied, he reaches into a sack of firestone and pulls out a lump handing it to the brown and standing there with the sack, watching the rest of his wing while loud and crunchy chewing noises obscure anything anyone nearby might be saying.

"Nervous? Me?" V'ten scoffs. "Um, yeah, okay. Maybe a bit," he concedes after a moment's pause, though his characteristic bright grin remains intact.

Kayjay smiles encouragingly as a group of weyrlings come across the field. "N'all trained you well..." She pauses as she focuses on her mentee. "You'll do fine, just remember to breathe occasionally and hold on for the ride." She frowns as she listens to Suriath, then undoes the strap in question, checking the soft lining before readjusting it a smidgen.

Telinda smiles at the Weyrlings, "It's common, really, just keep your eyes around you, all around you. N'all will be watching as well."

Aithne stops once she gets to their place, the rider setting her flamethrower down before she begins to check Araneth's straps.

One of the older aunties in the Weyr begins to direct the children to carry kettles of water out from the hall, setting them up carefully on a table for healers. There is an overall tension in the air, as people go about their preparations. The auntie is scolding the children as she moves, making sure they do not spill the precious water.

T'hvan strides over to the Northern Weyrs.

T'hvan straightens his back some as he checks and rechecks Kaelyth's straps. He listens to the Weyrwoman and the Wingsecond's words as he rechecks Kaelyth's straps once again. He looks to the other weyrlings before smiling in grim anticipation.

Chryse walks over from the Western Courtyard.

Chryse steps down from the courtyard, though she remains right at the edge of it. Her brows draw together over pale blue eyes as she watches the preparations.

Ryann strides over from the lush Lakeside Meadow.

G'mar pulls on Davanoth's straps, testing that they are in place and will not slip or slide. He reaches up and strokes the neckridges of his lifemate and whispers something to him. Turning, he awaits furthur instruction.

P'nell nods his head, "Yes, ma'am." P'nell informs Kayjay, breathing in slowly to calm down. He forces his hands to go at his sides, but can't help but wriggle in his spot. The weyrling then busies himself with strapping Varanth up, not saying anything as he does so.

Telinda gives P'nell a wink, then sets off across the landing field to where Tiarnath and the other golds are waiting. "Are we all set?" she asks of Aithne.

A hot gust of wind blows through, offering no relief from the day's heat. The empty blue sky begins to take on a silvery-gray hue, and a dark line is just barely visible on the horizon.

Aithne nods absently to Telinda, holding up a hand as she checks one last strap. "Just need to check my thrower, then I will be." She replies, as she picks up the thrower.

V'ten carefully rechecks Ryanath's straps as he waits, his grin fading slightly as he concentrates on the task at hand. After a thorough inspection, he deems the brown's straps are satisfactory, and leans against one foreleg in a failed attempt at nonchalance.

Kayjay winks as P'nell passes and after a moment, returns to her own preparations. As a wingmate comes alongside her with a hide, she scans it quickly, frowning with concentration as she chuckles ruefully. "Fine, then the third formation we practised in drills this last half month is the one we go with after all." She rubs her hands together and bounces on her toes in anticipation. "We've got that one done pat anyhow." Looking toward the weyrleadership, she waits for their signal.

A'den stands by Vercath's head a moment and then gives a sharp nod in response to something unheard before he turns and looks to his wingseconds. Apparently satisfied, he turns to step over to his brown's side, with a quick glance across the landing field.

Weyrlings and residents begin assorting themselves into work groups, some running errands, some hastily filling firestone sacks to be used later in the fall.

Telinda nods to Aithne, grinning across her shoulder to Remarra, "Excellent. Do that. I'm hoping for a good fall today, especially with all these weyrlings flying as well." And then she's off to check her straps.

E'gen stands quietly next to his blue, Sariketh. He rubs his knees absently with one hand, still sore from all the crawling he had to do the other day. As soon as someone nudges him, he joins the bustle at preparing firestone sacks.

P'nell doesn't seem to notice the looks he's getting as he falls into setting up Varanth, almost seeming as determined as the blue. "I know." P'nell murmers quietly as he pulls on his leathers, glancing around idly to make sure he's not needed. The weyrling checks the blue's straps again, making sure everything's in proper order.

Off in one corner of the landing field, gouts of flame from the throwers used in ground crewing light up as the equipment is tested, and some residents are instructed in their use. Telinda strides amongst them, correcting a handhold here, directing on the flame jet here.

T'hvan glances to Kaelyth and shakes his head, telling her, "Think of it as being part of a Harper's dance, dearest. Try to avoid each other. You always say it's better to dance with less of a flourish when there are so many people around... Just think like that." He pauses before nodding again. "Your straps are fine, Kae."

Telinda chuckles as she helps the flamethrower people settle down, "Just don't wave it all around, that's the easiest way to start a fire. Now, if we're all done here, I have to get back to check on my dragon and wing. Alright?" One of them nods, to which she nods in return, then heads back to Sunblaze.

There is the vague hope, visible on the faces that are turned aloft to track the sky, that the clouds might bring some rain to mix with the Fall that looms on the horizon. Instead, only a hot westerly breeze can be felt.

Chryse helps with the setting out of tables, carrying dragonhealing supplies and placing them in organized locations. On occasion, her glance goes over to the dragons picking out perhaps one or two specifically more than any of the others, but she gives herself a shake and focuses on the task at hand.

Kayjay takes a moment, even in the midst of her duties to scan over the throng of riders, residents and crafters that mill about the field. She notices Ryann, giving the assistant Headwoman a grin that includes Chyrse as well, then her eyes narrow and focus in on the target of her search, a couple of girls scampering behind an older resident carrying bandages. She nudges her lifemate. "See, Suri, I told you the girls would be fine .. just fine." She shakes her head doubtfully however, then shrugs, returning back to pre-Thread check lists

Aithne climbs up Araneth's foreleg using her straps to make her way up to her neckridges.

Aithne slips down from Araneth's back.

It's not an auspicious day for E'gen as a snapped order sends him hurrying back to his blue's side to give the straps another check. Nervousness is clear on his face and, straps secure and double checked, he wipes his sweaty palms against his pants while Sariketh croons at him supportively.

Riders, residents, staff, and Weyrlings rush about the field, each going about their separate duties. Dragons are spread out over the entire area with their lifemates nearby, checking gear, while Weyrlings hand out sacks of Firestone.

Once Aithne is satisfied with her preparedness, she wanders towards the dragonhealer tables, offering Chryse and Ryann quick smiles. "All set?" She asks of each as she inspects the readyness.

T'hvan runs his hands over Kaelyth's bare hide and smiles fondly to her, "Let's go, then, shall we?" As if he were asking her to dance, the weyrling readies himself for flight, considering his own gear now that he has doublechecked his dragon's straps.

Chryse gives Aithne a somewhat nervous smile and nods, "I think we've got everything. Water. Redwort. Numbweed. Needlethorn. Sutures. Clamps." She lets her list trail off to silence as she surveys the tables she was in charge of organizing.

As the ominous line moves closer above, the preparations intensify. Healers confer with the dragonhealers and ready their supplies. Members of the groundcrew make certain their agenothree tanks are full and the sprayers are working properly. Riders and Weyrlings alike re-check the straps on their lifemates, as well as their own helmets, gloves, and goggles. Every now and then a pair of eyes glances up and an expression of grim determination settles on another face.

G'mar picks out faces that he knows hurrying about the field. Rubbing his hands together nervously, he nods and tries to smiles at those he makes eye contact with. Picking out Ryann in the crowd, he watches for a minute before turning his attention back on the preparations.

Ryann moves to stand next to Chryse and offers her a small grin before Aithne is given her proper attention. "I think we're ready," she replies in addition to the seamstress' words. A glance is given to the table of supplies and then another, more nervous, to the gathered weyrlings.

An old aunty wanders to sit in the shade of a tree, and remarks to nobody in particular. "Why in my day, we were more organised than this. Thread knew its place, let me tell you. It didn't mess with Southern riders. We flew it, it died, and that was the end of it. None of this milling around stuff."

"Good." Aithne replies as she makes her way back to Araneth, checking her straps one last time.

P'nell finishes the final checkings on Varanth's straps and continues with his own preperations, tugging on his gloves and glancing around. The usually cheerful weyrling is immensly subdued, taking on a serious look for a change. Once he's all ready to go, the weyrling allows himself a glance around the landing feild.

Though Rukbat relentlessly sends sweltering waves of heat down upon Southern Weyr, glaring brightly, the sky grows dimmer by the candlemark. The sinister Threads draw ever closer.

Tazea stands near Zoyarth's shoulder, hand resting tentatively on the green's shoulder as she checks and re-checks Zoyarth's straps. "You ready for this?" She doesn't stop to wait for an answer, even if she's given one. The green tilts her head around to offer Tazea and encouraging croon.

A'den tugs uncomfortably at the collar of his jacket, and then reluctantly fastens it up. His hair is already looking sad and limp even before the helmet goes on, and the brownrider looks more than a little bit suffocated in all that flying gear.

Kayjay rolls her eyes as she overhears the aunty. She mutters to herself. "In her day, in her day. Her day has lasted an eternity, so says her 'mate." She giggles as Suriath nudges her but not the least bit repentant, the brownrider smirks as she takes a sack of firestone from a husky resident. "I'll take two please?" With ease, she ties the sack and waits for the second, taking a quick moment to gaze up at the sky. "Not too much longer. And no, we aren't taking longer than normal, don't pay attention to her."

V'tali nods to his Wing, "Ready?" and gives the signal to mount up. "You all know our formations!"

Telinda spots V'tali's signal, and motions for Sunblaze to mount up, checking before doing the same herself.

Tiarnath(#450MVaepqs$)
Tiarnath croons lovingly, excited at another chance to fly with you. She lowers a Champagne and Pearl Gold foreleg and you scramble up nimbly.

*> E'gen pulls a bit at the collar of his riding jacket, heat and nervousness already combining to cause sweat to pop out along his face. In an unconscious mirror of A'den, he puts his helmet on and secures it in place. It's a shaky breath that accompanies his unsteady mount onto Sariketh's back. He straps himself in.

*> Aithne climbs up Araneth's foreleg using her straps to make her way up to her neckridges.

*> A'den waves an arm in a sweeping motion at his wing, and they all scramble up, some with more grace than others.

*> V'ten hauls himself up onto Ryanath with the help of a proffered foreleg, settling himself between the Wheaten Amber Brown's neckridges.

*> A'den hauls himself up onto Vercath with the help of an extended foreleg, settling himself between two neckridges.

*> G'mar hauls himself up onto Davanoth with the help of a proffered foreleg, settling himself between the Island Sunset Bronze's neckridges.

*> P'nell climbes onto Varanth's neckridges with the help of an offered forearm, settling inbetween the neckridges.

*> Thicket flits to the sky over Southern Weyr.

*> Kayjay looks over to Niare and mounts at her orders. The second sack is easily carried as she scrambles up the brown hide of her lifemate.

*> Kayjay hauls herself up onto Suriath with the help of a proffered foreleg, settling herself between the Sunrazed Savannah Brown's neckridges.

*> Sitting behind Enaeth's first neckridge V'tali looks poised atop his dragon. His body twists in its seat before he says, "Lets Fly!" Giving his hand the requisite movements in the sky to emphasize with the hand command signaling flight.

You fly toward the sky over Southern Weyr.
Northern Sky(#160RJaes$)

*> Araneth flies over from the Landing Field at Southern Weyr.

*> Suriath soars over from the Landing Field at Southern Weyr.

*> Vercath soars over from the Landing Field at Southern Weyr.

*> Davanoth soars over from the Landing Field at Southern Weyr.

*> Varanth flies over from the Landing Field at Southern Weyr.

*> Ryanath soars over from the Landing Field at Southern Weyr.

*> Kaelyth soars over from the Landing Field at Southern Weyr.

*> Suddenly the deep grayish sky is filled with gold, bronze, brown, blue, and green as all wings are unfurled and the Southern dragons launch themselves into the air. Bugles and trumpets can be heard as the dragons voice their defiance to the deadly enemy.

*> The first clump of Thread drops into the sky and is immediately followed by many more. There is a slight breeze in the upper atmosphere, but just like on the ground, it is warm and only makes the heat worse. The current gently pushes a few clumps towards the riders of Firedance Wing, in particular towards Suriath.

*> Araneth rises at the signal, wings propelling her higher and higher as she flies to meet the challenge. Her bugle is loud and defiant, a call to arms for the wings.

*> Sariketh leaps to the sky, a fraction of a second behind, and if E'gen's face could be seen the surety of harsh words from the Weyrlingmaster would be writ there. He's in formation, however, and Sariketh lets out a loud bugle of challenge before his rider can hush him.

*> Tiarnath seems almost to halt mid-air, though wings beat through the ether as she steadies herself into position. On her back, between neckridges, Telinda looks over her shoulder, checking the position of the other members of Sunblaze, and the pregnant ladies with them, and also the Weyrlings - just to be on the safe side. Remarra, back in her position, gives Telinda a signal - hand straight in the air - a signal that all looks fine from her angle also.

*> Suriath doesn't waste a precious breath to bugle or trumpet. He chomps through firestone as fast as his lifemate tosses it his way and not a moment too soon is he ready to flame. With only the tiniest of margins, he warns his lifemate and springs forward, his massive flanks launching him toward the thread, flame searing an already scorched sky, the heat wavering off the charred remains of the thread.

*> A brownrider from Moonsweep Wing urges his lifemate forward to meet one of the tangled masses. The brown lets loose a large burst of flame which completely envelopes the Threads. Now they are no longer a threat, but a cluster of ashes drifting through the air. Another escapes the wings above and heads directly for A'den's head, even as the brownrider looks for a hasty resupply from V'ten.

*> Varanth however, lets it known that he wants to flame, and he wants to flame /now/. Adding his own bugle to the other dragons in defiance. P'nell quickly hushes him though, glaring slightly at the dragon beneath him. "No. Var, we're not flaming." The blue gives a defiant snort and hovers in mid-air, having eyes only for the falling thread.

*> Ryanath gives a short but functional bugle as he takes to the skies, both he and his rider glancing around for any rider in need of more firestone. When one of the pair espies A'den, they quickly make their way closer to him, effectively tossing another sack of firestone to the brownrider while calling a warning about the nearby piece of thread.

*> While it appears T'hvan is aware of the speed at which tangle bears down on them, Kaelyth's reflexes are slower and turns at a hard angle to avoid the clump, spraining her wing before betweening to duck the Thread.

Telinda watches as a tangle of thread spirals from above, waiting until it's safely past the danger point - the lower end of the wings. With a silent signal to Tiarnath they move slightly out of formation, the gold banking to bring them safely to the organism in question. The toggle is pushed, and flame bursts forth in a brilliant conflagration, turning it into ash that drifts, glowing but harmless, towards the ground.

*> Vercath echoes the bugles and roars of other dragons with a stridently defiant call of his own, then it's all down to business. Flaming, ducking, maneuvering and returning to formation, and making an urgent call for more firestone. As Ryanath and V'ten respond, A'den grabs for the sack of firestone, managing to snag the limp top of the sack just as Vercath blinks them between and out of harm's way, leaving the rogue Thread to be dealt with by the dragon behind and a little below him in formation.

*> After a short but powerful gust of scorching wind, the air is abruptly still. A clump that would have been blown past Araneth now falls directly above her.

*> Atop Suriath, Kayjay winces as she spots the injury to the weyrling dragon. But she is kept busy, co-leading her wing and directs a new line up to the front to relieve the dragons needing to refuel.

*> A clump! A bugle! And there's a blue, diving out of formation to catch a writhing mass of silvery Thread threatening one of his wingmates. There's a burst of livid flames and the wingmate ducks out of the way of the ashes, glancing up as the blue passes overhead with a fist raised in mute thanks. The blue is out of stone, and spots T'hvan nearby, signaling his need.

*> E'gen, having seen Kaelyth's sprain, spurs Sariketh towards the bluerider who's signalling for a reload. Once in range, he gives a toss of the heavy firestone sack, shoulders straightening a bit with sudden confidence as the bluerider catches it.

*> With a roar, Araneth drops down and to the side, giving Aithne room to fire her flamethrower above, then angling to the side as the thread cascades downwards, silver turned to red hot ash. Only her face mask and goggles protect her from a more severe ash burn. Even so, that had to have hurt.

*> Davanoth keeps his distance behind the Wings. Watching and waiting for a signal that a rider needs a new sack of fire stone, he hold the two bags ready for resupply. Watching E'gen, he grins as he and his lifemate continues to circle and wait.

*> With a silence so thorough it's almost eerie, Thread rains down from the sky - clumps, masses, tangles... All of it pouring down in living, writhing tendrils toward the greenery beneath. Comforting bursts of flame seize it well before it reaches the ground, however, borne of bronze, blue, brown, and green muzzles. A tangle twists and turns heading straight for Telinda and Tiarnath.

*> Varanth also keeps his distance, if even a bit reluctantly. Every once in a while getting a repremand from his rider, or a glare. But he only lets out a snort, continuing with his lazy circling until he's needed. P'nell watches the threadfall, trying not to miss a thing.

*> Tiarnath spots the thread heading towards them, and instinctively slows her wings down, so now, instead of being on top of them, it's coming in front of them. There's a minute adjustment of wingsail, the fingersail twisting downwards, so now the thread is slightly to their right. Telinda leans over in the straps, thankful for their weight-bearing properties, and flame bursts forth from her 'thrower. The thread is now nothing but ash, that quickly dissapates on the wind as though it n4ever existed.

*> One sinuous coil of thread makes its way toward the surface of Pern. As it falls, it drifts in the air, trending closer to where V'ten and Ryanath are flying resupply in the Weyrling Wing.

*> Zoyarth bugles a warning but Tazea doesn't seem to notice to who as she turns her head. The weyrling shifts her waiting sack of firestone as the pair hovers steadily in their short distance from the Wings until spying a need for resupply.

*> Vercath drops back into the middle of the wing to let one of Stormfall's bronzes take the point as A'den efficiently feeds the brown a lump of stone to restoke his flame. Refreshed, the brown eases into a slot as two other dragons drift wide in their positions in a shift maneuver obviously practiced many times.

*> Atop Ryanath, V'ten circles cautiously with the other weyrling, ever watchful for any other riders requiring his resupplying of firestone. Then, abruptly, V'ten's glance spots the thread heading for him. Instinctively, Ryanath wants to flame and yet knows he isn't supposed to, and his hesitation is enough to give the thread an opening: it spirals down to coil about V'ten's right arm an instant before the pair goes between. When they reappear, the thread destroyed by the cold, V'ten inspects himself quickly, discovering only his thick flight jacket has sustained any injury.

*> From nowhere a tangle of thread seems to appear, and in but a blink of an eye it engulfs Kneyenth's wing. Before W'yil's eyes it disintegrates, and with a scream both disappear *between* forever.

*> This is turning out to be a messy Fall. Thread is raining down in clusters of all sizes, especially large blobs. One blob in particular grazes a blue, scoring his right flank. He screeches in pain and disappears Between, fortunately reappearing closer to the ground. He makes a quick landing and is soon in the care of the dragonhealers. More thread spirals amidst Stormfall, and they look to Emerlienne and P'nell to give them more 'stone.

*> Araneth is focused the job before her, her rider's flamethrower spewing death to the silver that falls around her. The reason for Aithne's paranoid strap checks becomes apparent as the dragon twists and turns in an effort tocatch every last one.

*> Mounted on Varanth, P'nell immidiately notices the signal for more stone and directs Varanth in that position, the pair blink between appearing over a rider in need. The weyrling hefts some stone downwards, before directing the blue to loose altitude. P'nell catches the empty sack easily and directs Varanth to between back to safely where he resumes his defiant circle.

*> Suriath lets out a mighty roar of defiance at the Thread, how -dare- it take another dragon? Literally chomping at the bit, he swallows the last of the firestone that he needed and it is only turns of experience that allows Kayjay to control the raging dragon from blindly lashing out. He waits, reluctantly, and only when his emotions are in check does his lifemate release him back into the front of the wing.

*> Davanoth and G'mar trail the main body of Riders fighting thread. As the dragons start to attack the menace, the Bronze and his rider watch carefully as the experienced riders do their work. As he is called to do so, The pair go between to meet up with a rider in need of more firestone. Coming up above and just a bit behind the rider, G'mar heaves the bag of firestone to the waiting pair. As the empty bag is dropped, Davanoth folds his wings and dives down to intercept the falling object. As the bag is reached, Davanoth banks sharply and starts to return the direction he came from. Arching skyward, the pair come between two strands of thread and the dragon and rider they just resupplied. Noticing that he had shielded the thread from the view of the rider, he calls out warning, but does not immediately go between. When he sees the rider look over, G'mar commands Davanoth to fold his wings and lets momentum carry them. The thread passes near, but past his lifemate's folded wings. As the second strand carries into his jacket, the two go between and the twinge of pain and chill of cold merge as one.

*> Vercath flames at a large clump of Thread that's already fragmenting even as he chars it. His rider keeps casting quick looks around at the rest of the wing, checking on everyone, and he acknowledges P'nell and Varanth's quick and efficient resupply run with a wave, echoed by the rider who caught the weyrling's sack.

*> With an agility lent only by Turns of practice, Remarra leans far, far off the side of her gold, flamethrower poised to sear a patch tumbling her way. At just the right moment, Hannenth angles toward the Thread and - as one - the two char it from the sky. More breaks through from above, threatening Araneth and Tiarnath.

*> Tiarnath isn't about to be imposed on by any sniffly little thread. No, not at all. She banks, lets Telinda hunker down in the straps, then banks again, as Telinda releases the agenothree, causing a fireball to erupt where the thread was. The next moment hot ash peppers the gold's trailing edges, and the pair disappear *between*, reappearing in formation at the same point as where they left, but the thread gone.

*> Davanothand his rider return from between with two more bags of firestone. Ready once again, the weyrling rsumes his circling near P'nell.

*> Resupplying Firedance, C'rel's sack gets tossed neatly, the practice having finally paid off, but he fails to notice the thread that hits from above. A wide green mass can be seen across Blue Oceath's back the moment before he lets loose a terrified bugle and heads Between forever.

*> For some reason or another, a mass of thread manages to sneak through the wings undetected, and unchared. As it makes its decent towards the ground below, its path brings it a smidge too close to where Varanth is flying resupply.

*> Ever watchfull for thread, Varanth croons with pleasure as a tendril of thread heads over his way. But once P'nell lays eyes on it, it's too late to stop the blue. The thread scorches the side of Varanth's outstretched neck, whom promplty goes between on contact, reappearing not too far away from the spot. P'nell just shakes his head, glaring slightly. "I told you, we're not flaming." He bends over to check out the scorch, but it isn't bad.

*> Finally, the clumps are beginning to lessen in volume and size. Tired greens and blues return to the landing field, while other greens and blues take their places and attack the Thread with fresh energy.

*> A greenrider from Starflame leans over to offer her lifemate some firestone, taking advantage of a clear patch of sky. It is all too brief, however, before the pair is once again surrounded by the descending enemy. The green soars deftly through the fray, a stream of fire making her a path. That done, G'mar and Davanoth are beckoned for the stone they carry.

*> From between Araneth's neckridges, Aithne's flamethrower emits the telltale *whooosh* as she flames yet another stray patch of silvery death. She keeps close to her lifemate's neck, occassionally leaning over to aim her nozzle downwards, it won't get by her.

*> Sariketh narrowly avoids being flamed by an eager dragon chasing down a clump of Thread as E'gen finishes another toss. The pair wink between and appear again back with the rest of the Weyrlings. E'gen's earlier nervousness has been replaced by the rush of adrenaline.

*> Leianth arrives with several extra bags of firestone, flying higher to toss one to a brownrider in need of resupply, before dropping to catch the empty one. The pair fall back, waiting to be signalled for resupply.

*> Nothing ventured, nothing gained, seems to be the attitude of P'ren and Sazath, though the route they've chosen through the wings to resupply is the shortest, it's probably the most dangerous. In fact, just as Sazath avoids a clump of thread, a dragon from Skyfury blasts it into dust, but also manages to catch Sazath's wing. Both scream as they are burnt, and P'ren seems to cling to reality enough to visualize a place closer to the Weyr, disappearing between, but not this time forever.

*> Still the skies pour with the silvery Thread, the mindless masses raining downward almost constantly. Dragon wings glint handsomely against fiery illumination as the leading trailing edge approaches. But all is not over yet, a blue's flame spurts and dies, and the rider frantically looks for resupply, spotting V'ten and Ryanath.

*> Vercath drops further back in Stormfall's formation as the other half of the wing's greens and blues trade places with the tired first shift in a carefully executed maneuver, with the browns and bronzes covering the fall of Thread for a brief moment as the formation reforms, almost instantly. A'den feeds another piece of firestone to Vercath as soon as the formation has resolidfied, and then checks the condition of the sack affixed to the brown's straps. Not quite empty, yet.

*> Davanoth responds immediately as the call is heard. Winking *between* to appear near the green needing fuel, G'mar heaves the bag to the rider. Diving to reclaim the empty bag, the pair disappear even as G'mar's hand closes on the fabric. Reappearing a safe distance away, they start their patrol once more.

*> Tazea tosses a weighty sack to an awaiting bluerider and offers him a quick smile as a fleeting thought before Zoyarth wings downwards to resupply themselves. Returning to their position among the other weyrlings, the young green letting out encouraging sounds as though they might help protect the other dragons from the vicious thread.

*> The end of Fall is near, but not here yet. Several strands spiral lazily toward a pair from Firedance Wing.

*> Ryanath quickly darts toward the blue who has run out of firestone, V'ten holding ready a replacement sack. When close enough, the brown weyrling slings the sack to the bluerider, aiming it well, and catching the empty sack as the rider releases it. Task finished for the moment, V'ten and Ryanath rejoin the other weyrlings.

*> Just as Leianth is turning her head around for a piece of rock from the resupply sack Emerlienne is carrying for another rider, she spots a stray clump, chewing the stone she'd just been given and flaming the thread as it passes dangerously close to her. Another tendril falls nearby, this one not caught by the pair until it is too late. Another Weyrling dragon is heading towards it and them, flaming, while the silver rain falls from above. Several things happen almost simultaneously, Leianth swerves away, a piece of Thread curls over Emerlienne's arm, the other dragon lets loose its flame, singing the tip of the forest sanctuary green's tail. Leianth screams, and disappears between, barely giving Emerlienne enough time to build a mental image Southern Weyr.

*> Leianth soars to the broad Landing Field below.

*> Emerald greens, cobalt blues, mahogany browns, coppery bronzes, and below, the yellow gold dragons sail through the sky, burning the last bits of Thread into black cinders.

*> Nothing. Not one strand of Thread, not even a cloud. The sky is clear again. Jubilant trumpets ring out from the dragons as the last wisp of danger dissipates.

*> V'tali starts to wheel through the sky, checking out the wings dutifully. His wings pummel the air as he circles along the line of weary dragons as V'tali starts gesturing out sets of riding teams to do sweeps. His hand points there, then there, individualizing out riders and grouping them with others to perform the necessary scanning of the ground from above, for thread burrows.

You soar to the broad Landing Field below.
Landing Field(#33RDJ$)

*> Emerlienne hastily unbuckles herself from the straps, sliding down to the ground as quick as she can, assisted by the healers. "Lei, Lei, sweet, don't panic, calm down, Lei, sweet." she murmurs, calming the forest sanctuary green as she moves to inspect the damage. "Sweet, honey, Lei, it's just a singe. You'll live. Calm down." she murmurs, ignoring the threadmark on her jacket sleeve, which has actually not penetrated to skin.

*> In the northern sky, Kaelyth flies toward the broad Landing Field below.

*> In the northern sky, Ryanath flies toward the broad Landing Field below.

*> T'hvan jumps down off of Kaelyth, landing smoothly as his lifemate croons.

*> In the northern sky, Varanth soars to the broad Landing Field below.

*> V'ten jumps down off of Ryanath, landing smoothly as his lifemate croons.

*> In the northern sky, Davanoth soars to the broad Landing Field below.

*> P'nell climbs down from atop of Varanth, landing softly onto the ground.

*> G'mar jumps down off of Davanoth, landing smoothly as his lifemate croons.

*> In the northern sky, Vercath descends slowly as Stormfall splits into two groups, the landing one larger than the one that stays aloft, as one of the wingseconds and some of the other dragons peel off to go help with ground-scanning.

*> In the northern sky, Vercath soars to the broad Landing Field below.

*> A'den lowers himself off of Vercath, jumping when his feet are close enough to the ground to safely do so.

*> Sariketh lands and E'gen drops down his side as soon as the straps are released. The blue dragon gives a bit of a whining creel, having somehow managed to get ash in his eye and Chryse is sent over, with her supervising dragonhealer, to tend to the blue.

You jump down off of Tiarnath with lithe grace, the Champagne and Pearl Gold nudging your hip playfully as you reach the ground.
Landing Field(#33RDJ$)

T'hvan helps his green to the dragonhealers, looking as concerned as the weyrling can look, as he tends to her sprained wing, "Just don't move it." Kaelyth offers a creel of anguish and T'hvan replies back, "I -know- you would like to, but don't move it untill we get the dragonhealers here!"

In the northern sky, Araneth soars to the broad Landing Field below.

Araneth flies over from the sky above.

Telinda dismounts and walks a circuit around Tiarnath, checking especially that leading edge where the hot ash hit. She grabs a bucket of numbweed and smoothes a layer over the wing, nodding her satisfaction and murmering an encouraging word to the gold before looking around to assess the damage.

Aithne slips down from Araneth's back.

P'nell climbs down from atop of his dragon, looking up at the score on the blue's neck. "Well, that's what you get for trying to fight it." P'nell informs the dragon glaring slightly as the blue lowers his head, crooning slightly. "No, you did well, you just have to listen more."

"Well, /that/ was interesting," V'ten notes once both feet are planted firmly on the ground. Ryanath leans down to nose gently at his rider's right arm, and V'ten grins. "Yah, I'm okay," V'ten assures his brown. "We went between almost right when it hit me, and it didn't get through my jacket to my skin. Trust me. I'm okay, Ryanath."

Leianth creels, thrashing her tail as if by moving it the pain will go away. "Numbweed!" Merli calls, "We need some numbweed over here!" her voice rising in urgency as Leianth's creels grow more pain stricken. There is numbweed nearby, sure, but she is too focused on Leianth right now to notice. "Leianth, please, you will be perfectly fine. Yes, you will." she says, coating the singed tail tip liberally in numbweed from a bucket just pressed into her hand by one of the healers.

Once on the ground, G'mar immediately starts checking Davanoth over, very carefully. Checking the wing that had the close call, he nods, satisfied that all is well. Finishing the check, G'mar finally looks down to examine his ruined flight jacket, now tinged with red. His hand reappears from within the torn leather at his side, and wipes a small bit of blood on his pants. Wandering over to fetch some numbweed for a small score on Davanoth's side, applies the salve.

P'nell just shakes his head, "Hey! Can we get someone over here to help!" P'nell shouts out, glancing around. The boy's no longer annoyed, but worried. "Maybe some numbweed?" He asks as he turns back to Varanth. "You're alright, you did fine. You can still fly afterwards, yes."

Aithne winces as she removes her face mask, then helmet. "Ow." She notes as she glances over to her students. "I know, dear one." She offers Araneth a light pat before she heads towards her students. "Ryann! Chryse! Circulate through the wings. See if any dragons needs your aid. Call me or Telinda if they do."

T'hvan continues to tend Kaelyth's sprained wing, looking over to the dragonhealers before pleading to them, "/Please/. I need to ease her pain.." He glances to P'nell and the other weyrlings, checking to make sure they're fine overall, but then returns his attention to his creeling green.

Chryse finishes washing out Sariketh's eye and the blue and his rider are sent off to rest with some instructions for what to watch out for. At Aithne's words, she gives a startled blink and the dragonhealer who had been supervising her gives her a little nudge, "Go on." The seamstress nods, hurrying over to the nearest dragon, which happens to be Varanth. "P'nell," she gives the weyrling a brief greeting. "Tell me what happened?"

Ryann turns her head quickly toward the goldrider as her name as spoken and nods even as she moves off through the dragons, something she'd have never done when she first came to the Weyr. She speaks to several, smiling and nodding when most are in as good of condition as when they'd first risen to fight.

P'nell nods to Chryse as she walks over, "Varanth got it in his head athat he wanted to flame thread." P'nell informs Chryse, glancing up at the dragon before returning to Chryse. I was paying too much attention to the threadfall to notice he was going after it until it was too late. He was scored on his neck." P'nell informs the girl helpfully, pointing to the score. "We went between immidiately after."

Leianth begins to quiet as soon as the numbweed begins to take effect, even ceasing the wild movement of her tail, making it much easier for Merli to apply the numbweed. Emerlienne sighs, "Lei, you really shouldn't do that." she murmurs, then glances over at P'nell, "You too?" she asks, nodding to Varanth. Leianth's tail is singed a little, and Merli's jacket sleeve is threadscored.

A'den finishes checking Vercath and then checking with the rest of his wing, and starts slowly making his way toward the edge of the landing field, Vercath lumbering along behind him.

Chryse nods, movements brisk as she strides over to examine Varanth's neck. She looks over at the nearest goldrider and asks, "Could you have your dragon dampen Varanth while I get started, please?" Already, she's washing her hands in redwort and applying a thin layer of oil in preparation of her work.

"Wow. I feel.. intact. Seems like we're one of the few ones who actually didn't get hurt, even if I did get scored, sort of," V'ten notes to Ryanath. "C'mon, let's get a bit out of the way. I think they're gonna be busy with the real injuries for a bit, and we'll just be in the way."

V'ten hauls himself up onto Ryanath with the help of a proffered foreleg, settling himself between the Wheaten Amber Brown's neckridges.

Ryanath lumbers toward the Lakeside Meadow.

Varanth makes a big fuss of crooning sofly, his head hung low to the ground. He does seem a little uneasy, not being able to stay still, however. Though, the blue eventually subsides, becoming quiet and subdued. "He's going to be alright, isn't he?" P'nell asks Chryse, looking from dragon to seamstress and back.

G'mar sinks to the ground, catching his breath for a minute. Looking up at Davanoth, he shakes his head, "I'm fine, Dav, really. I'm just gonna sit for a bit." Looking to make sure he is out of the way, he watches the others do their work.

T'hvan takes a deep breath while Kaelyth creels, "It will be all right, my dearest heart. They will see you soon. Just remember our last trip out... Above the lagoon... yes, that's right. A nice fly above, no rain in sight... That's it, my love.." The green weyrling speaks quietly, a calming influence upon his lifemate as she creels softly now.

Aithne nods to Araneth before she moves to a spot where she can observe Chryse and Ryann. She offers a grateful smile as a healer apprentice dabs a bit of numbweed on her cheeks. "I may need to commission a new set of leathers."

Chryse nods at P'nell, "He'll be just fine. Could you stand by his head for me, and maybe stroke his eyeridge?" She steps in and slathers some numbweed over Varanth's injury, carefully examining it for signs of debris.

P'nell nods and moves over to Varanth's head, out of the way a hand reaching up to pat the blue on the head. "Hey, everything's fine, Var." P'nell tells the dragon, watching Chryse work on the wound. The the weyrling seems to go silent for a little while watching Chryse work and not paying much attention.

Varanth ambles toward the Lakeside Meadow.

P'nell walks toward the Lakeside Meadow.

Telinda notices things are being taken care of, and goes to deal with the hidework about those left - their families will of course need notifying.

You walk toward the Western Weyrs.
Western Weyrs(#330RJL$)

Tiarnath> Ryann walks toward the Lakeside Meadow.

Tiarnath> Chryse finds some minor bits of debris in the blue's wound and uses redwort to wash it out. Then a bit more, with a judicious look. Satisfied, she renews the coat of oil on her hands and adds numbweed again. All things considered, it's a minor scoring and will likely be healed relatively quickly. She explains to P'nell about keeping the injury clean and letting the air at it. A pot of numbweed is pressed into the weyrling's hands while she describes the signs of infection to him. "I'll check on him again tomorrow, but it's really very minor and should be all but healed up in a sevenday. Since it's his neck, he might not want to fly for a couple of days, just to give it a rest."

Tiarnath> T'hvan smiles gratefully to a dragonhealer that comes to Kaelyth's aid, helping figure out the wing strain. He pauses before taking another deep breath. He gives the dragonhealer another smile before replying, "Thank you, Kenadi. It's much appreciated." The weyrling tends to Kaelyth, helping as much as he can while the dragonhealer looks over the green's wing.

Tiarnath> Emerlienne is busy soothing Leianth, completely ignoring the score on her jacket sleeve. She knows it doesn't reach the skin, but that isn't something a casual observer might notice. Leianth is crroning and creeling, making a variety of soft injured noises, although the numbweed is really taking effect now.

Tiarnath> Aithne nods her head as she watches. "Very nicely done." She offers. "When you are finished there, could you come to look at Araneth, when you are finished there?"

Tiarnath> Chryse gives P'nell a reassuring smile and sends him off with Varanth, cleaning her hands. She nods to Aithne, "Of course." Dragonhealders scurry about, and a pair of Healers converge on Emerlienne with the intent of getting her out of the jacket and under examination. Leianth's burn is washed with copious amounts of water and cleaned with redwort. Chryse makes her way over to Araneth and says, "Tell me what happened, please, Aithne?"

Tiarnath> G'mar stands, a bit gingerly. He walks with a slight limp as he passes near Chryse. "As to what we talked about earlier, Chryse, you are amazing." He gives a small smiles as she is very busy. "Let's go Dav. Let's get you cleaned up and I need..." His voice trails off as he turns.

Tiarnath> Kaelyth ambles toward the Lakeside Meadow.

Tiarnath> T'hvan strides over to the Lakeside Meadow.

Tiarnath> Aithne's nose wrinkles. "Nothing serious" She explains. "She just got some ash burns along her right wing and flank. So if you have others that need tending." She asks, gaze sweeping the field.

Tiarnath> Emerlienne weakly protests the attention on herself, saying, "Leianth, not me.. Her!" but isn't able to physically resist, now that the adrenalin of flying in threadfall has worn off. "I'm fine." she says, adding "See?" after the healers have inspected her arm. "Leianth needs attention, not me." she says, leaning against the forest sanctuary green for support now that her energy has departed.

Tiarnath> Chryse looks over, hesitating as she sees Kaelyth and T'hvan exiting towards the barracks. G'mar gets a harried smile and Chryse bites her lip. "Well, it seems that they've got Leianth and Kaelyth well in hand and I think those were the worst of what's left. 'Cept for that blue over there that's getting stitched up. The Healers look like they'll have Merli stripped to skin in as long as it takes to go between, so I think I can look at Araneth."

Tiarnath> G'mar strides over to the Lakeside Meadow.

Tiarnath> Davanoth ambles toward the Lakeside Meadow.

Tiarnath> Leianth nudges at her rider, crooning softly, concerned for Merli, even though she knows the girl is un-injured. Emerlienne glances up at Leianth, blinking. She notices the dragonhealer attending to Leianth's tail now, watching. She hides a yawn behind her hand, shaking her head. "Lei, I'll be fine. I know you don't feel any pain, but let the healer finish first."

Tiarnath> Aithne nods, "Then could you take a look at Araneth, please. You may need a ladder." She adds after a moment's thought.

Tiarnath> Chryse nods and gets a ladder, setting it up. "Aithne, could you as Araneth if she wouldn't mind my examining her?"

Tiarnath> Aithne nods, glancing up at Araneth as he gaze moves inwards. The dragon lowers her head to carefully inspect the dragonhealer with one eye before offering her alight croon.

Tiarnath> Chryse gives Araneth a smile and climbs onto the ladder, looking over the wounded areas. "That's a pretty large area. I think we're going to need her to dip in the lake once I get a coat of numbweed over her. It's all pretty superficial, except for here and here... and over here." She accepts a paddle with copious numbweed from below and starts to work it over the injured area.

Tiarnath> "It was a fairly large patch." Aithne replies wryly, "Yes, we'll go for a soak once she has rested a bit. I need a bath as well."

Tiarnath> Emerlienne has actually fallen asleep where she stands, leaning against Leianth. A nearby healer shakes her awake, then leads her off, assuring her that Leianth will be fine, that she needs to rest. Merli protests weakly, but realises there isn't much point. Once the dragonhealer is finished with Leianth, the green follows.

Tiarnath> Chryse looks, for the first time, suddenly uncertain. She casts a glance at Aithne and says, "For the most part, I think numbweed should be just fine. But we'll want to clean out the worst patches with redwort and then water again before we coat it up and send her to sleep it off. Um... I think it'll be at least a sevenday before she should fly. Which is kind of a shame because I read that salt water can sometimes help. Though, er, not right away."

Tiarnath> Emerlienne walks toward the Lakeside Meadow.

Tiarnath> Leianth ambles toward the Lakeside Meadow.

Tiarnath> T'hvan strides over from the lush Lakeside Meadow.

Tiarnath> Aithne considers that before nodding. "I think we can manage to walk to the lake, can't we?" She asks her lifemate in wry amusement. Ignore the grumbling from the dragon. "She'll just want to be spoiled the entire time." She shares with Chryse.

Tiarnath> Chryse grins at Aithne's words and climbs off the ladder. She gathers a large pot of numbweed, a paddle and a smaller crock of redwort. "Goldriders first," she offers up. When she spots T'hvan, she gives him a concerned look.

Tiarnath> T'hvan blinks and salutes the Junior Weyrwoman before waving to Chryse, shaking his head back at her as he spots the concerned look, "She'll be fine soon enough." He looks drained, tired, exhausted.

Tiarnath> Aithne laughs as she makes her way up the ladder, "Perhaps you should go and check her out, Chryse?" She suggests, "I can take care of Araneth"

Tiarnath> Chryse bites her lip, clearly torn, but she finally says, "I saw who was working on Kaelyth. She's had the best of care with old Tarmin and I can check on her as soon as we have Araneth squared away. She's my charge, after all." She flickers a look at T'hvan and adds, "Do you think you've got the energy in you to help me carry this stuff to the lake? If you could grab the crock of redwort and the paddle, it'd be a huge help. I'm sure to drop something otherwise."

Tiarnath> T'hvan blinks and shakes his head back at Aithne and Chryse, "No ma'am, Kaelyth is fine now. Well, as fine as she can be with a sprained wing. She'll learn. It was just... emotionally distressing. I've never experienced such pain before... Way down in my heart." He takes a deep breath before nodding again to Chryse, "Sure." And grabs the crock of redwort and paddle, telling Chryse, "I'd be glad to help, Chryse."

Tiarnath> Aithne eyes Chryse, "Go on, we'll meet you at the lake. Araneth is not in that much pain and it will take us a bit to walk there, so you have time to check on here and get to the lake by the time we arrive."

Tiarnath> Chryse hesitates, looking from Aithne to the gold and back again, but finally nods. "Okay. I'll meet you there." She turns to T'hvan and says, "Is she settled at the barracks or outside? Would she mind a visit?"

Tiarnath> T'hvan shakes his head, insisting, "Ma'am, she's not..." He trails off as he hears the latter remarks made by Chryse and Aithne. "Shells.. All right. No, Kaelyth would love you to visit her, Chryse."

Tiarnath> Chryse lets T'hvan lead the way to Kaelyth.

Tiarnath> T'hvan walks toward the Lakeside Meadow.

Tiarnath> Chryse walks toward the Lakeside Meadow.

Tiarnath> Aithne walks toward the Western Weyrs.

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