You amble toward the Landing field, full of dragons.

+*> Sienna strides over to the Lakeside Meadow.

+*> In the northern sky, Brielth emerges from Between with a blast of cold air!

+*> Imara walks over from the Northern Weyrs.

+*> Iesath lumbers into the landing field, straps dangling dangerously from her flanks as Aura nimbly attempts to get them done up while in motion. "Slow down, dearling, I have to be -organized-," she mutters, face mostly pale, mostly emotionless. As the green comes to a halt, she slips down her side, glancing about. "How're things going?"

Your hand once again traces Iesath's smooth neckridges, as you slip down her side, guiding yourself with her straps and forelimb. Below, you touch her again, her soft whuff filled with adoration towards you.

Yishenth ambles across from the Northern Weyrs.

Aithne follows after Araneth, her flamethrower slung over one shoulder as the pair make their way to where the rest of Sunblaze is gathering. She keeps a careful eye on Belira and her bevy of assistants.

Suriath lumbers over from the lush Lakeside Meadow.

Kayjay strides over from the lush Lakeside Meadow.

Kayjay sighs as she walks across from the meadow. Suriath doesn't seem too impressed either.

Lykaia walks over from the Western Courtyard.

The field is soon packed with dragons, riders, healers, weyr staff, and even fairs of firelizards fluttering about on various errands. The dragons and riders gather with their wingmates, reporting dutifully to their wingleader.

Imara makes her way with Yishenth to where the Starflame riders have gathered. She smiles at Starr. "How're you and Jiazith doing?"

Starr stands to the far side giving Jiazith's own staps final tugs and once overs. Climbing up halfway to give one a tug. Then dropping to the ground and ducking under the green belly to tug another. Going up front to check the straps for any folds in the leath. Finally she gives a faint nod. Spinning about she trots forward to the sacks of firestone. Snagging two bags and easily lifting them. As she trots back she pauses and looks over at Imara. "Fit and well, Imara. We are about ready to mount up." She says, her tone and face neutral.

A bluerider in Firedance leans close to his lifemate to make sure that his straps are on properly. He grimaces and unbuckles the straps, readjusting them, and buckles them again. After a second inspection, the rider smiles satisfactorily and goes to check his other gear.

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

Brielth flies over from the sky above.

Auralia smooth her hands down her leathers, which she's already outfitted upon herself, along with gloves and helmet. Goggles have been swung about her shoulder, jangling about her side as she steps forcefully through Skyfury, pausing to offer hints and advice to those about her. "Tighter straps there, J'shi, you know we don't need silly mistakes like that." Her rounds complete, she returns to Iesath, raising a hand in signal to a weyrling to bring her a bag of firestone.

Snatches of murmured conversation drift over from a small knot of Starflame riders, W'hin's voice suddenly heard above the rest. "It doesn't matter, that's just the way it's done." The discussion comes to an abrupt halt as the weyrlings, carrying bags of firestone, come around to that section of the field, and the green and blueriders are quickly immersed in attending to more pressing duties.

Kayjay picks up her pace and strides towards her wing. "Shasta will be leading you all, pay attention, keep your heads up and if -one- of you appears with any more than a scratch on any of your hides, double drills for the rest. Watch each other's backs." With that, she turns on her heel, her frustrated concern twitches on one cheek.

L'mir swings his leg over Brielth's neck then slides down the bronze's side, pausing to give him an affectionate pat.

Imara nods, turning to check Yishenth's straps as she speaks. "Good. We should be departing soon."

The rough, grating scrape of dragonteeth against 'stone fills the air as the wingriders begin to feed their dragons, growing to a near cacophony as the hundreds of massed dragons slowly pulverize the pungent rock.

With some of the younger weyrfolk, Lykaia finds herself helping with firestone detail, just in case the weyrlings need help. She's promptly dispatched to carry a sack to Auralia. "Here y'go, ma'am," she says, heaving it to the greenrider.

Sienna walks over from the lush Lakeside Meadow.

L'mir goes to work quickly, walking through the formation lines of Moonsweep. He stops periodically, pointing to a strap, then keeps moving briskly.

Imara grabs a bag of firestone and opens it up, handing a few pieces to her lifemate. When Yishenth has had her fill, Imara ties some extra sacks to the straps.

Auralia's head turns, and smiling gratefully, she nods towards Lykaia, "Thank you," is her crisp comment, as sack is open, and chunks of firestone are pulled out, and fed to the green in front of her.

"Yes. We should." Comes Starr's return comment. Trotting again to Kiazith's side. One bag is set upon the ground and the first is hoisted up to a shoulder. An agile climb, despite the heavyness, and Starr is buckling the bag to the straps. Then leaping to the ground for another.

Healer masters, followed by their journeymen and apprentices, ready themselves for any injuries to come. They are armed with instruments, ointments, fresh water, clean cloths, and a seemingly endless supply of numbweed. Thus, they wait patiently.

Sienna strides out, and proceeds to look about, apparently wanting to find a job to do.

Kayjay walks up to Auralia. "If any of the residents need a lift over on groundcrew, Suriath and I don't mind acting as ferry. Any way we can help."

L'mir waves a hand toward Sienna, then points toward several sacks of 'stone. "Take those to my wingriders at the end of the line." he states firmly, nodding in the indicated direction. Yes, he's busy, and it shows in his tone of voice.

The majority of riders have finished feeding firestone to their lifemates and doing last minute checks. Seeing this, the Weyrleader gives the signal to mount up.

Araneth shifts impatiently as Aithne checks and rechecks her straps. "You are not helping, Aran." She informs her lifemate patiently. The gold subsides for a few moments before twisting her head to nudge the straps in Aithne's hands as if trying to 'help'. "-Alright-" She grumbles, "I won't be pleased if they break and I fall off." Despite the grumbling, she does quickly get the straps onto the dragon.

Auralia pulls a strand of hair behind her ear, head tilting into a nod. "Thanks, Kayjay, that's great. There'll be plenty who'll need it. You flying with the Queen's wing today?" Sympathetic, to the point of disgust at the very idea of having to do that.

Imara walks amongst the rest of Starflame before returning to Yishenth to mount up. She smiles softly at her lifemate as she hauls herself into place.

Sienna nods briskly to L'mir, doing her best to look the determined Weyrling. She hefts a bag of stone, and somewhat awkwardly hurries one over to a wingrider.

Kayjay shakes her head, wrinkling her nose. "Not even that, Auralia. Groundcrew." Suriath snorts in disgust. "No *between* for another few weeks."

Imara steps lightly onto Yishenth's outstretched foreleg, then swings easily into the comfortable place between her lifemate's neckridges.

Starr quickly started feeding Jiazith and is now done. The green giving a small, premature burp, that issues only smoke for now. That chore done Starr quickly grabs the straps and scrambles up with the dexterity of a silk-spinner.

A flurry of activity fills the landing field as riders mount their dragons, the shimmering colors dotting the field with patches of green, blue, brown, and bronze, the faint clink of metal echoing as each buckles into his or her straps.

L'mir takes the last look down the row of Moonsweep riders, then gives them the signal to rise. He too, joins them.

Auralia makes a face, nose wrinkling almost as far as her forehead. "I'm sorry Kayjay, that can't be fun. I'm sure you'll do your best from below, though." She glances about, then adding, "Better get yourself ready, Kayjay, and grab up any groundcrews. We're to be off."

L'mir reaches up to take a firm grasp on Brielth's riding straps, and swings up into the seat between his neckridges with the help of his foreleg.

L'mir has left.

You sense Iesath's delight as you come near, using her straps and helpful forelimb to swing upwards to her moss-patterned neckridges. Your right hand runs down her soft hide, exulting in her nearness, as she warbles softly to you.

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

+*> Atop Suriath, Kayjay calls out. "Anyone who wants a lift with me, come along, quick now."

+*> Aithne quickly moves to mount, checking her straps as she settles into place.

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

+*> Sienna hurries out of the way, apparently having done her 'stone delivery. "I need a ride!" She declares to Kayjay as she scrambles over.

Auralia straps herself in rapidly, glancing about across the wings. "All ready?" She fiddles with buckles again, hands white.

+*> Atop Suriath, Kayjay grins. "Well, come along then."

+*> Sienna climbs onto Suriath's back with the help of a kindly proffered foreleg and the straps.

+*> Gathered together, the queens' wing continues its preparations as well, 'throwers given a final check and straps a final inspection before they too mount up, and all the dragons await the command to rise.

+*> Kellah climbs onto Suriath's back with the help of a kindly proffered foreleg and the straps.

+*> Atop Suriath, Kellah climbs up onto to suriaths back.

+*> From atop Yishenth, Imara waits patiently with her wing, watching for the signal to rise.

Auralia waits, feet wiggling about Iesath's flanks, then nods to her acting Wingsecond, a young man named K'hlan, raising her arm in signal for the wings to rise. "Let's go, folks!"

You fly toward the sky over Southern Weyr.

Dragon> Southern Weyr sense that Belith says with a hint of exitement in her tenor voice, << Clear skies! >>

Dragon> Southern Weyr sense that Iesath projects warm seriousness towards the young weyrlings, offering, << Soon, you too will come. We will fly well, and return safely to you all! >>

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

+*> Iesath warbles seriously, turning her head to make sure that 'her' wing is in perfect formation, atop a double layer, and one far below. Satisfied, she rumbles, and Auralia raises her hand to signal *between*.

Dragon> Southern Weyr sense that Belith says, << yes! Be careful, >> she says, although she knows the 'elder' dragons will not need the warning.

Dragon> Brielth bespoke Southern Weyr with << We fly with courage and skill. We will be home to you in no time at all. >>

+*> Iesath disappears into Between.

Between

Between is a cold, empty void of awful nothingness. You can hear nothing, see nothing, smell nothing, touch nothing, and it is only the knowledge that light lies on the other side, and that your dragon is with you, that keeps you from screaming. Silently, you chant the ancient talisman, as you hover in this place between places...

Black...

Blacker...

Blackest!

You suddenly emerge...

+*> Iesath emerges from Between with a blast of cold air!

+*> Yishenth emerges from Between with a blast of cold air!

+*> Brielth emerges from Between with a blast of cold air!

Dragon> Southern Weyr sense that Belith agrees wholeheartedly, her thoughts whirling a quick blue of exitement.

+*> Jiazith emerges from Between with a blast of cold air!

+*> The first silvery threads appear on the horizon, faintly reflecting the fading light, beautiful were it not for the threat that they represent to the lands below.

+*> A menacing sliver of thread breaks free of the ponderous silver cloud and begins an erratic descent. One by one others follow in pursuit as the initial tendrils make their way into the dragons' airspace.

+*> Brielth turns sharply, circling the Wing with ease. He's watchful of the newer, younger dragons, warbling to them encouragingly.

+*> Iesath emerges from *between*, carefully maintaining her position at the forefront of Skyfury, beating her wings in time to the rest of the wing as they wait for those first threads to reach them, high up in the sky.

+*> An updraft from below Starflame wing throws two clumps upwards. The dragons part as some silent warning is given and a blue surges forward, flaming the silver death to harmless ash.

+*> From Brielth's bronze back, L'mir lifts his gloved hand high into the air, then drops it quickly, signaling his Wing toward the Menace. The greens streak through the Hold's sky in what seems to be a very non-traditional maneuver. L'mir watches with interest, then smiles, before pumping his hand yet again.

+*> A lazy breeze buffets the clumps of Thread, causing them to stray from their paths. A rather large mass floats across the sky until the wind releases it, and it drops just to the left of Jiazith.

+*> From atop Yishenth, Imara stays in formation as a rather large, ungainly clump makes its way through the wing. Banking to avoid the other dragons, she manages to destroy it with two bursts of flame.

+*> Strong gusts from seawards cause not a few clumps to spiral wildly. A few of the smaller greens and blues dipping and diving to catch these errant strands. There is a near collision of two such dragons. The blue of the two, however, winks between at the last safely.

Auralia yells an admonishment to K'hlan, eyebrows furrowing as the bluerider almost gets himself hit, only minutes into the 'fall. Face set into a disgruntled scowl, she leans down, turning her attention to the clumps in front of her, and the problem of grouping the wing to best get them seared forever.

+*> All across the sky, the brilliant flares of orange-red fire char the silver rain into burning ash, plumes of smoke and flame filling the sky with haze. A symphony of flickering light and color fills the sky as dragons wink in and out of *between*, emerging safely to belch flame anew.

+*> Jiazith pumps her wings to carry her towards a clump of thread. Opening her maw to spew forth flame and singe it to dust. A silent command, however, takes her between and back into position. Out of the way of another clump which a blue sears safely.

+*> Brielth takes off after one of Moonsweep's younger blues, his bronze body lurching forward as he streaks across the sky. *whooooosh* Flames burst from his maw, sizzling the Thread to mere charred bits that filter downward harmlessly. The bluerider raises a hand in thanks, then takes off toward the left.

+*> As a unit, Starflame keeps to its line formation amidst its Flight, dutifully scorching the skies in effort to clear the tendrils of thread which linger there. Kinoa squints behind her goggles, lips moving silently as she issues orders which are relayed to the wing through her dragon, the green weaving across the sky in the timeless dance with death.

+*> Yishenth drops slightly to catch a twisting strand of Thread that was missed by the green next to her. She soars below it, then comes up, fire streaming from her maw. Imara ducks as Yishenth flies through the ash cloud, back into formation.

+*> A young brown is struck across the outer edges of his wing, the painful keel rising above the bugles of his wingmates. The pair has barely been singed when a second later they disappear between, reappearing moments later into a fall of ash.

Dragon> Southern Weyr sense that Belith seems anxious. << Thread should not Fall upwards, >> she says.

+*> Jiazith swerves with the rest of the wing. Keeping her place in the formation easily and instictively. Suddenly she drops to scortch half a clump another dragon only managed to partially sear.

+*> Ragged flames are regurgitated through Iesath's opened maw, the spewing heat destroying gleaming threads that dance too near, too close, to the green and her rider, and earn the right to total distruction. Auralia smiles with half satisfaction, glancing back at K'hlan and Amneth, her face falling as she notices the pair again. This is one wingsecond pair that won't last in that position.

+*> The upward gusts begin to mix with a persistent wind from the ocean. The result are swirls in the warm air that vex dragonwings. Thread entering these is split wide apart to fall in single silver strands downwards. A number of greens break off from Starflame and swoop on these more agile and twisting slivers.

Dragon> Iesath bespoke Southern Weyr with << Thread falls as normal, Belith. All will be well. >> The older green assures this to the younger, adding, << We fly well, Southern. >>

+*> From Brielth's bronze back, L'mir's hand again forms a fist that raises high over his head. "GO!" he yells out into the wind, even though the word is lost beyond hearing. Again the greens surge forward, that same odd formation resulting in several chunks of Thread being singed at the same time, all riders and lifemates intact. "Good!" he bellows, then gives a snappy nod.

+*> A lock of silver-streaked thread winds, graceless and ignorant, towards Iesath.

+*> From atop Yishenth, Imara reaches into her firestone sack as she notices her lifemate's flame diminishing. Yishenth uses her last bit of flame to sear a stray clump, then turns her head to accept the firestone.

Dragon> Southern Weyr sense that Suriath grumbles. << I am watching the sky. We should be up there. I could take care of my lifemate. >>

+*> A harsh screech tells of a dragon in trouble. One diving green swerves to try to avoid an updraft carrying the deadly thread. She manages to avoid it and start upwards to flame. The green is Liynth and cocky Sarissa, her rider. Bravely they seek the tossed and tumbled strand.

+*> Iesath brings the thread towards her in little more than a pile of dust, swirling in pretty patterns through the winds, a bugle of satisfaction as it is destroyed for good.

+*> Another powerful gust off the ocean adds only more difficulty to those higher flying wings. Liynth bugles suddenly and turns towards a clump to flame. Her smaller body gives no prior warning to the turn, which could have consequences.

Dragon> Southern Weyr sense that Ellath bugles proudly. << You fly well! >> He yells to the dragons.

+*> Hearing the cry of Yisannth as she emerges from between, Starr turns Jiazith to help the younger green and her rider. The two diving swiftly for the pair even as they flame upwards. Momentum gathered there is no quick stop, even for the small pair, as Jiazith makes her way headfirst into the other dragon's flame. Turning upwards sharply once within it, a pained and horrid cry, and right into a downward falling clump. The silver strands converge upon Jiazith and Starr hungrily. For a moment they falter, both screaming at the top of their lungs, before winking *between* They do not emerge.

+*> From Brielth's bronze back, L'mir lifts himself up high on Brielth's neckridges, leaning forward as far as the straps will hold him. "There!" he calls out, sending a brown streaking toward a tangle of Thread nearby. He watches then.. twists to where Jiazith.. was? "Shards!" he yells, "Starr!"

Dragon> Southern Weyr sense that Iesath emits a cry of horror, then calls, as loud as possible, << Jiazith. JIAZITH, come back! >> Silence. Her keen fills the skies.

+*> But not even a serious injury can distract the riders from their duties for even a moment. Thread waits for no man, and the instinct honed by turns of long training sets the wings to reform to make up for holes in coverage. Kinoa curses and Luiseth bugles, snapping at a young blue who allows the telepathic shock to distract him from the immediate threat, and Bissulth quickly readjusts his position.

Dragon> Southern Weyr sense that Ellath bugles loudly again, but this time not in triumph. << No! >> He shouts in disbelief.

Dragon> Southern Weyr sense that Belith suddenly bugles, her deathcry ringing out with pain and anger. << JIAZITH! >>

+*> Yishenth becomes engrossed in a series of clumps. Suddenly she lets out surprised shreik, and Imara shuts her eyes tightly. A moment later she opens them again, now red and moist. With a determined expression, she urges Yishenth forward.

Auralia's glance, eyes hidden beneath her goggles, takes her to noticing Jiazith and Starr's departure. "STARR!" Her wail is almost as loud as Iesath's, her hands shaking upon their straps. "No!"

+*> An entire wing of greens and blues appears from between, neatly relieving many of the smaller dragons who quickly disappear *between* and back to the Weyr, weary after such a long Fall. These refreshed dragons, some still chewing stone, fill in the formations and add vigor to some of the lagging wings.

Dragon> All sense that Jiazith cries out in pain, loud and clear, then winks *between* her mind cut off forever.

Dragon> Yishenth bespoke Southern Weyr with << Jiazith? Please come back... Jiazith! >>

Dragon> Suriath bespoke Southern Weyr with << NO! Jiazith. Why can't we be up there looking for her. >>

+*> A clump of thread filters through a momentary gap in one of the wings, lazily descending towards the Queens' Wing, inert yet gravitationally intent on reaching the ground.

Dragon> All sense that Sylaith's commanding thoughts immediately range from Honshu. << How? >>

Auralia's hand raises, wiping a tear from her eye, but her concentration returns to the fall ahead of her. Mourning, and there will be much of that, will take place later.

+*> The blues and greens of Starflame dart in and out of formation as necessary to combat the oncoming thread. Luiseth is riding point, opening her maw and belching forth fierce dancing flame to meet with a teeming clump. Charred bits are already far below as the green slips back into formation.

Dragon> Southern Weyr sense that Rnayth softly kneens loss after explaining << I sense her no more. She will not come back >> With a solemn finality.

Dragon> Southern Weyr sense that Belith almost chokes out, << Jiazith....>>

+*> Suddenly the blue riding in front of Brielth blinks between, leaving him to stop a large clump before it can get any lower.

Dragon> All sense that Brielths deep voice rings out, his keening edged and pointed with dismay. << Jiazith! Jiazith! >>

Dragon> Southern Weyr sense that Iesath's mental voice projects anguish; her rider no doubt projecting it to her in turn. << We will fight on, Southern. We must. No more must be lost. >>

Dragon> Southern Weyr sense that Ellath has no more to say, apparently. He stays quiet, paying his respects for dragon and rider.

+*> From atop Yishenth, Imara clenches her jaw as she and Yishenth fight on. The remaining Starflame riders close in the gap left by Starr and Jiazith, also forced to keep going until the menace is gone.

+*> Brief pauses become interspersed in the fall as it begins to lessen. The warm air offers no respite as the Threads seem to be gone one moment and back the next.

+*> Brielth reacts, instinctively, when the blue *betweens*, dodging the clump then roaring his hatred of it to the skies. Flames shoot from his maw, reducing what was to char and ash.

Dragon> Southern Weyr sense that Suriath creeels in deep inner pain. << My rider says we must keep fighting. Don't let it win. >

+*> Somewhere below most of the wings a dragon bugles. A burst of flame follows and consumes a clump. However the hot ash is thrown upwards at the underbelly of a diving green. There is an irritated shriek as she winks between and then comes out safely higher up.

[I had to go; Auralia remains, and leaves quickly afterwards, to mourn alone.]