Langley: 23 July 2001

Ardenth> Above you, Pryth circles silently down from the sky, and his huge wings hold steady as he rides the air 
currents below the rim of the bowl.
Ardenth> Pryth banks and wings to a landing below in the northwest side of the bowl.
Ardenth> Alaida is with the rest of the Weyrlings, making last minute check in straps, firestone, etc. 
You walk down the long, winding passageway to the lower caverns.
You walk west into the living cavern.
Ardenth> Sonya climbs down Pryth slowly.
L'son raises an eyebrow and sniffs the package deeply before nodding with a smile. "That's the stuff alright. Well, 
I can't authorize such an exchange myself, but I can bring that idea to the weyrleaders. I'm sure something could 
be arranged."
Ardenth> Sonya hops down, barking orders as she dismounts. "More firestone sacks. Now." She's in her full riding 
gear, goggles pulled up atop her head.
Langley is just tying off the end of her braid as she comes up from the inner caverns, a riding jacket tossed over 
one shoulder. "Wish us luck, sirs, ma'ams," she says before continuing on her way, gulping visibly before heading 
out to the bowl.
You walk outside, into the bowl.
You go to the center of the bowl.
You head northwest, toward the corrals.
Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Pryth bugles as he prepares to fight thread. << All weyrlings should meet 
in front of the barracks. >>
Above you, Zaith soars over on the winds from the western opening of the Bowl.
Zaith banks and wings to a landing below in the northwest side of the bowl.
Kyrola slithers down Zaith's side to the ground.
Alaida turns and sharply salutes Sonya even as she is also dressed in her riding leathers. At the bark, she turns 
and quickly rushes over to grab more firestone sacks. She grabs two and hauls them over with other Weyrlings doing 
the same thing.
Riding jacket slung over her shoulder, Langley comes across the bowl at a slow jog. No sense getting too worked up, 
after all. Ardenth, already wearing her straps, is waiting for her rider with a sort of tense fluttering of her 
wings as the girl hauls a sack of firestone over toward the green. "Morning, ma'am," she adds with a quick salute 
once the bag is leaning safely off to one side.
Devath rumbles, her wings giving a small russle almost in antisipation. Her eyes whirl a quick, glowing blue that 
also has tinges of yellow as she definitely knows what is going on.
Uriketh emerges through cavernous opening of the Weyrling Barracks.
Salva walks out of the Weyrling Barracks to the north.
Salva salutes Sonya as she ducks out of the barracks. "Ma'am, Kyrola, Langley, Alaida."
Alaida begins loading up on firestone sacks, handing them out to get others prepared. She dashes again to grab more 
sacks and hauls them back. She quiet now, almost deathly quiet as if she was deep in thought. A rather determined 
look on her face shows that she is probably preparing herself. She glances over at Salva and gives a nod. "Morning, 
Salva. " then she's off to get more firestone sacks by the two.
Langley slings her braid back over her shoulder, nodding in the process toward Salva. "About ready for this?" she 
asks, a little smudge under her eyes betraying what was most likely a sleepless night. Ardenth, meanwhile, twitters 
impatiently as she opens her maw, waiting for chunks of firestone as her rider unties a sack and frowns down at its 
contents.
Kyrola salutes Sonya as she comes out of the barracks with Zaith, the young queen already strapped and ready to go. 
Kyrola checks over the flamethrower, waving to the others briefly before getting down to business.
Alaida finally gets as much firestone she can before rushing over to Devath. She grabs a free bag and starts 
feeding Devath stone. Still in complete silence does she works with Devath taking the stone and carefully chewing.
Sonya returns all saultes promptly and sharply. "All Weyrlings need to be feeding their 'stone now."
Sonya turns to feed Pryth stone promptly.
Lacroith heads towards you from the southeast.
L'son heads towards you from the southeast.
Langley tosses a chunk of firestone into that waiting maw, stepping back slightly as the crunching ensues. "Checked 
it over the requisite nine thousand times, Kyrola?" she asks, trying to sound light about it as she moves off to 
get an extra bag of firestone.
Salva moves over to the firestone sacks, poking around until she finds one with a brown tie. She opens it and 
starts feeding Uriketh the stone, face pale.
Kyrola replies to Langley, "Getting there." When she's satisfied, she awaits further instructions, eyes on Sonya.
Alaida gives Devath a total of three stones then pauses briefly to lean against her lifemate in a private moment. 
Her mouth moves, but she is keeping her words very quiet. Devath, on the other hand, rumbles, after the last stone 
is chewed and swallowed, then croons softly, her eyes tinging to a yellow in the morning light.
L'son jogs over along side the lumbering hulk of Lacroith. "L'son and Lacroith of Igen Weyr reporting to help out 
if we can!" he calls out to the others while buttoning up his flight jacket.
Chuckling under her breath, Langley drags the sack back and hefts it up, affixing it to a dangling strap and 
stepping back to admire her work. "Well, that's comforting," she says glibly, pausing to scrub her eyes in the 
early morning light. "Ready for more?" Another chunk goes to Ardenth, who crunches through it even as the 
greenrider glances off a salute toward L'son. "Sir."
The sound of teeth crunching rock echos through out the bowl as Weyrlings here prepare to fight their first 
threadfall. It's a sound that echoed from across the bowl as older riders and their wings also prepare. Yawns are 
also seen in the early morning light.
Alaida lifts up at L'son's words then sharply salutes him. "Morning, Sir. " before looking over at Sonya as if 
preparing to dash over and grab more firestone sacks for the bronzerider.
Salva tosses Uriketh some more stone before turning to salute L'son. "Morning, sir." She turns back to her dragon, 
murmuring softly to him.
Kyrola looks up and salutes the Igenite sharply, looking up into the sky for a moment afterwards, as if looking for 
something.
Resting her gloved hands briefly on her hips, Langley follows suit, tilting her head up and squinting at that 
pretty morning sky. "I thought it would be more ominous by now," she mutters, mostly lost to the sound of crunching 
firestone.
Devath lifts her head and gives a deep rumbling hiss suddenly. She cranes her neck, looking up at the dawn sky.
L'son returns salutes formally and looks about to see who might authorize him to join. Lacroith behind him rumbles 
and looks to the sky eagerly, not willing to give up this chance to strike the terror from the sky.
Sonya turns at the sound of the voice. "Ista's duties. That sounds great. One of my awlm's is grounded right now. 
You can fly with us." to the weyrlings she turns to grab their attentions. "If everyone is ready!" she hollers. 
"Mount up! We will be flying a reverse V formation tonight. As always, watch the winds and remember to duck!"
P'tod walks out of the Weyrling Barracks to the north.
Long distance to L'son: Langley has no idea on that one. Sorry. -.-
Semeth emerges through cavernous opening of the Weyrling Barracks.
Alaida nods and takes a deep breath before smoothly mounting up on Devath.
Alaida grabs hold of the flight straps and hoists herself to Devath's back with practiced ease.
"Mind you don't let that go too soon," says Langley pedantically, tapping Ardenth on the end of her muzzle as the 
green rumbles deep in her throat. "Right. Reverse V," she repeats while hauling herself up to Ardenth's back, 
sending a sort of admiring look toward L'son and Lacroith. Deep breath, Langley.
You approach Ardenth just as the dainty green crouches for you, one elegant foreleg bent to allow you an easier 
mount.
** Mounted on Devath, Alaida buckles herself into the flight straps securely.
** Sonya climbs up Pryth slowly, helped by Pryth's foreleg.
** L'son nods firmly and turns to Lacroith, patting his neck and moving to help someone bringing firestone. 
Quickly, the Igen bronzerider lashes some sacks to the dragon's straps and gets Lacroith to start chewing, readying 
himself. "You'll do well, Lochy. We'll go back to them soon." When things are cleared, Lee gives a thumbs up sign 
to the assistants tending and vaults up to Lacroith's straps.
** L'son easily climbs and pulls himself up to Lacroith's neckridges where he diligently straps in.
** Kyrola walks up Zaith's proffered foreleg and settles between two of her neckridges.
** P'tod grasps Semeth's straps firmly and swings himself up to perch atop the brown's neck.
Ardenth> Devath senses that Ardenth is bright and sparking today. << Good thing for all that practice. Ready, 
Devath? >> She's all but challenging. Beware those Istan greens!
** Mounted on Devath, Alaida yanks on her straps, making sure they are tight and keeping herself firmly in place. 
She shifts the firestone sacks so they are within easy reach. then looks over at Sonya in ready.
** Salva grasps Uriketh's straps and swings up onto his neck.
Dragon> Ardenth senses that Devath rumbles, her tone tinged with the challange that she meets today. << Very ready. 
Both Alaida and I will meet and destroy *thread*. >> She is definitely up to your challange!
** From Uriketh's neck, Salva buckles herself in and checks the firestone sacks before looking over at Sonya.
** Perched atop Zaith, Kyrola checks her straps four times carefully, then settles the flamethrower tank on her 
back, holding the wand just the way she was taught. She nods once as if to denote her readiness.
Ardenth> Devath senses that Ardenth, fearless as ever, sends concurrent thoughts. << I am with you today. Let's 
show them how it's done! >>
** Lacroith, unfamiliar with the dragons of Ista, looks out at the young weyrlings with a seemingly appraising 
look. Sharply, he bugles at them, raising his head high up and snorting to the winds.
Dragon> Ardenth senses that Devath mentally bugles at that, her voice tinged with the sound of her musical voice.
** Ibrith emerges through cavernous opening of the Weyrling Barracks.
** Jai walks out of the Weyrling Barracks to the north.
** Jai climbs onto Ibrith's neck.
** From atop Lacroith, L'son buckles in quickly, checking the straps twice before looking up to give a thumbs up 
sign to Sonya. "Lacroith and L'son ready!" he calls out and the bronze shifts to find a good spot for launch.
** Devath bugles right back to the Igen bronze, as if challanging him, or is that the Thread she'll soon flame from 
the skies. Alaida moves to slip her helmet on, then her goggles. Her tiny body, almost seeming to be engulfed by 
her lifemate, she finally lifts a hand, showing thumbs up that she's ready.
** Ardenth can't help herself. She absolutely has to croon prettily toward Ibrith, even as Langley swats at the 
green's neckridges with her gloved fingers. "Not the time or place, silly." As ever, the green could care less what 
Langley thinks and even preens before she hunkers down to be serious again.
Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Pryth rumbles. << We will be doing this formation. >> he pictures an 
inverse V. <<Lacroith will be to my right and Devath, you are to my left. The rest of you are where you normally on 
during drills. On my mark....rise up! >>
** Uriketh bugles back at Lacroith as Salva slips her helmet on. Once settled she also gives a thumbs up.
Dragon> Lacroith and Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Pryth rumbles. << We will be doing this formation. >> he 
pictures an inverse V. <<Lacroith will be to my right and Devath, you are to my left. The rest of you are where you 
normally on during drills. On my mark....rise up! >>
Dragon> Lacroith and Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Devath rumbles an understanding. << We understand. >>
Dragon> Ibrith bespoke Lacroith and Ista Weyrling dragons with << I understand as does my rider. >>
Langley looks a little peeved at Ardenth still, but nonetheless gives the affirmative as she finishes buckling 
herself in. The little green waits her place in formation anxiously, rumbling still in her throat.
Dragon> Lacroith and Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Uriketh warbles his comprehension. << We understand! >>
** Fluria heads towards you from the southeast.
** From high atop Pryth, Sonya lifts a hand and lets it dall.
Dragon> Lacroith and Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Ardenth is all spitfire and courage today. << We are ready! 
>>
** Qirith heads towards you from the southeast.
** From high atop Pryth, Sonya err fall even.
Dragon> Zaith bespoke Lacroith and Ista Weyrling dragons with << We understand as well. >>
** Pryth flies up into the air.
** Devath moves to her position to the lift and behind Sonya, then gives a powerful jump and a beat of her wings as 
she takes off at Sonya's motion.
** Devath flies up into the air.
** Semeth flies up into the air.
You rise into the air.
** Uriketh flies up from below.
** Zaith flies up from below.
** Lacroith flies up from below.
** Qirith flies up from below.
** Ibrith flies up from below.
** Qirith circles up at the head of the queens wing after the rest of the dragon wings have taken their positions. 
A glance behind and she gives an almost scolding bugle to the other queens, then stops to hover and wait. On her 
back Fluria has already readied her flamethrower and a burst of testing flame can be seen from the back of Qirith's 
back.
Dragon> Pryth bespoke Ista Weyrling dragons with << Is everyone up here and ready? >>
Dragon> Ibrith bespoke Ista Weyrling dragons with << We are ready. >>
Dragon> Pryth bespoke Lacroith and Ista Weyrling dragons with << Is everyone up here and ready? *spells Lochy's 
name right this time* >>
Dragon> Devath bespoke Lacroith and Ista Weyrling dragons with << We are ready. >>
Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Lacroith's mindvoice trembles with pent energy. << We understand. My rider 
wishes for you all to fly well and return safely. >>
Dragon> Semeth bespoke Ista Weyrling dragons with << We are ready. >>
Dragon> Uriketh bespoke Lacroith and Ista Weyrling dragons with << We are ready! >>
** Brillant streaks of orange and yello and faint pink race along the sky. Slowly the horizon is lighting up, the 
day break nears. One by one the Istan fighting wings lift to the sky, into position facing east. Each of them ready 
to face a new day, ready to face the enemy of Pern. Within minutes they need not wait any more. The silvery cloud 
is seen in the distance, the gap closing quickly. The water below drowns the silvery strands easily, the evil hiss 
of thread contacting water faintly audible.
** Lacroith sweeps his wings and rises with the others, angling hard to the right to take up position with Pryth.
** Semeth hisses at the approaching Threads, his body taut with pent-up energy.
** Pryth rises easily, belching small flames in preperation. He is ready to face the dangers.
** Thread is here finally. The first wing is quick to meet it, flaming efficiently. A sudden gust of wind catches 
two large strands and tangles them together. This little bundle of joy falls quickly towards the Belior Wing.
** Zaith slides easily into her usual position in the wing, giving voice to the immenent threat of the Thread with 
a roar!
** Ardenth loses a little trickle of flame way too early, her excitement betrayed in that brief fault. But she 
stays her place steadily in the Wing, the rumble in her throat having fallen silent now. Steady... steady... She 
waits, pent energy all but palpable as her little wings beat their careful timing.
** Devath hisses again, keeping her position easily to the left and behind Pryth. Her eyes now move from that 
yellow to the red to meet the danger of thread. She is easy to combat the Ista winds before giving a small puff of 
flame, obviously getting just anxious to flame her menace. Alaida glances around quickly, trying to keep an eye on 
everything and everyone.
** Qirith fans her wings and gives a ringing bugle of challenge as the silvery death comes into sight. And then the 
enemy meets the front lines of Ista and Qirith is swooping beneath the other wings on patrol for any escaping 
strands.
** Ibrith bugles excitedly, eyes swirling red as he watches the wings above. Jai patpats his neck encouragingly, if 
nervously, eyeing the threat herself with fear as their Weyrling training exercises get turned over and over again 
in her head.
** Valiantly the wings sear the thread from the sky, the wing formations set up so that no threadfall can escape 
the flames of the dragons. But nothing is perfect. Above, a green screeches in pain as a strand of thread sneaks 
past her guard to lick at her hide. The pair disappears between,reappearing seconds later, leaving that thread to 
fall unseared towards the Weyrling wing below.
** Astride Lacroith, L'son holds tight to the straps, his white flying scarf slashing and cutting in the wind 
behind him as Lacroith races with the formation. Lacroith roars with flame echoing from the sides of his maw as 
thread gets past the green above. Lee furrows his brow and leans slightly, using force as well as any mind order to 
keep Lacroith firmly in the foreign formation.
** Mounted on Devath, Alaida pats Devath firmly as if to reassure her lifemate even as her other hand reaches to 
take a firestone from her sack, holding it in ready. If she wasn't so garbed, the tense look in her features would 
be seen.
Dragon> Lacroith and Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Pryth bugles a warning. << Over there! Flame flame! >>
** Perched atop Zaith, Kyrola spies the encroaching thread, lifting the wand of her flamethrower, flicking the 
control to let loose a flash of flame from the smith-made device.
** Uriketh hovers in position, eyes betraying his emotion as they whirl orange with a tinge of red. As the thread 
falls towards them he tenses, ready and eager to flame it.
** Ardenth all but visibly ducks at that screech, recoiling upon herself briefly before she bugles after the singed 
green. And little Ardenth waits her place in the Wing, another understated hiccough of flame leaving her muzzle 
unchecked - just before it becomes a full-throttle belch toward the errant patch. Langley, ducking forward, nearly 
takes a face full of flame that time.
** Ibrith holds his place in the wing and watches for an opening. Considering everyone else seems to have gotten 
this bunch of Thread, he hangs back, watching carefully for the next opening to arrive.
** Devath instantly banks slightly, finally letting loose a flame as a thread drifts down toward her. Now the fight 
has begun and she sears the thread to char and lets it fall harmlessly to the ground, but she doesn't have time to 
rejoice as she retakes her position in the Wing and flames another floating clump that practically breaks up in the 
wind. No doubt she's been practicing as she grabs not just the center of the clumb, but also the edges to prevent 
strands from escaping. Once that is done, she snakes her head back, demanding more firestone, which Alaida obliges.
** More and more thread fall, escapeing the tight controll that Belior and Timor hold in the skies above. Winds 
catch a two tendrils of thread, wrapping them together and sending them plummeting right for Kyrola!
** Another roar echoes from below as Qirith dives on a missed strand of thread. As she nears it she pulls up and to 
the right just as a huge and thin gout of flame erupts from Fluria's wand. The Weyrwoman's face, if you could see 
it, is intent and focused. The maneuver is pulled off succesfully and they are once again racing after more escaped 
strands with a vengeance.
** Taliska fights for control as Wyth suddenly darts between two browns to attack a wayward Threadclump, then slips 
into *between* to avoid being scored.
Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Semeth roars a warning to Zaith! << *Thread* is right above you! >>
** Lacroithkeeps back, watching the werylings with wariness from his vantage in the reverse V formation. Buffeted 
by some of the more strange winds, Lacroith tucks his wings in tight to swoop briefly out of formation to bypass 
the air current and then power wing his way up again to the right of Pryth and just ahead. Lee swings out an arm to 
give a thumbs up to the weyrlingmaster to show things are okay and again scans the skies.
** Zaith and her rider look up in time, and the pair *blink* into between, leaving the clump for the others to get, 
now that they've gotten their own clump already.
** Ibrith beats his wings and belches a gout of flame at the Thread that nearly got Zaith. He sears a portion of it 
to ash and wings right to come back and finish the job, trumpeting his defiance at the deadly menace while his 
rider looks back over her shoulder to check and double check that the Thread is gone.
** Pryth moves in perfect formation, swooping and diving perfectly as he goes after thread. Sonya returns the 
thumbs-up before leaning way over Pryth. She's watching everything intently.
** Zaith emerges from between at the proper time, like they were trained, and Kyrola gives a thumbs up gesture to 
Jai in thanks.
** Wind buffets strong and hard against the highest wings, causing several riders to cast momentarily out of 
formation.. Only a heartbeat of time passes, however, before the leads swing inward, clustering tightly, and the 
others fan quickly back into the slant, flame pouring forth in random bursts - charring that thread which falls 
before them. Like dirty snowflakes, ash fills the air, it's stale scent clinging to anything it finds to cling to. 
One young woman sneezes atop her blue, then again, evidenced by the way she tries to both cling to her straps and 
shake her head fiercely at the same time.
** Ardenth flies a mirror to her opposite on the other side of the inverted V, both of these smaller greens timed 
nearly to the point of wingbeat for wingbeat. Of course, the mirror breaks this imagery as she dives down to catch 
a single falling strand while Ardenth holds her place, scanning the gray-smudged sky anxiously.
** Devath easily flies, her wings beating in perfect candance as she lifts up, her wings now pulling in and she 
catches a thread falling toward her. She flames it from the bottom, letting the ashes fall with a fresh of the 
ashes on Alaida, who quickly brushes it off with her gloved hands. Devath quickly retakes her position in the wing 
again.
** Ibrith glides by Zaith and Jai waves at her rider in return. Another glance and the quick winged blue is off 
again, diving below the others before winging up to sear a clump of Thread that's too close to another female he's 
fond of, but this one a green. He bugles to Ardenth, though the Thread was not in her line of fire, and wings his 
way right back into formation smugly.
** Steady, calm, rational, Hoocheth and his rider J'ef survey the skies, moving swiftly and surely to spout flame 
where it's most needed. He can't get all of the clump that angles in from the side, caught by the wind. He winks 
between, the clump falling at a rather quick pace towards L'son and Lacroith. Yet another clump of about three 
strands are aimed for Langley and her green.
Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Devath bugles out a warning toward Ardenth! << Thread coming at you! >>
** Uriketh maintains his position as Salva scans the skies. The bluerider's sneezing fit distracts her for a 
moment, and it's the brown who spots the thread to the side of them. The pair swoop over to char it before flying 
back to their position.
** Ardenth had been pulling a steady forward pace, aiming for a bunch that gets snagged by a blue higher up. Thus, 
it's time for a quick about-face, all but on the very tip of her tail as she angles to face the trio of venomous 
strands. With a roar, triumphant and daring, she nails two of the tangle, hot but harmless ash dancing across her 
pretty hide. The third trickles away, caught on those same breezes and darting off errantly.
** Zaith holds her place in the formation easily, her wings beating only mildly to keep up with the others. Both 
dragon and rider sweep the skies for thread in their path, and seeing some that is not already being dealt with, 
the queen increases the speed of her wingbeats until Kyrola can bring her flamethrower to bear, the flame spewing 
out to char the errant thread to ash.
** Lacroith, while definitely eager to get into the thick of it in the wings high above like he's used to, he keeps 
formation stolidly, making quick small corrections to avoid harmful winds while L'son shifts and moves atop him in 
a way that bespeaks the manner of someone raised to ride runners. "Left high bracket!" Lee suddenly calls aloud and 
Lacroith bugles out sharply, right wing thrusting down to grab the air and propel the pair up to the left. They 
swing out tilted sideways with L'son hunched close to Lacroith's hide. The tumbling thread is caught at a rough 
angle, searing it once to take off the majority. Their angling lets them double under though, Lacroith's wings 
tucking hard to bring him down and under and the rest of the thread is caught in a second gout of fire before they 
fight to return to formation, L'son wiping ash from his goggles.
Dragon> Ardenth bespoke Lacroith and Ista Weyrling dragons with << We missed some! Get it, get it! >>
** Ibrith darts after the strand missed by Ardenth, diving beneath the green deftly as his mouth opens and he sears 
the single menace to crackdust. He bugles at the threat and wings around to join the other Weyrlings just in time 
to hear the warning from Lacroith's rider.
Dragon> Ibrith bespoke Ista Weyrling dragons with << We got it for you, Ardenth! >>
** Fingers of silver slither through the sky, twisting and and turning in the wind. One such slither of silver 
falls directly towards Alaida and Devath while another is aimed for P'tod and Semeth.
** A moment and then there is the sharp creel of a brown as his wingsails are caught by a clump. With a quick jump 
between he emerges and begins to fall. The reaction amongst the queens wing is instantaneous. Qirith swerves from 
the fore and darts up amongst the other dragons, winking between the last jump to arrive just below the falling 
brown. With the expertise of practise she catches him and slowly begins to make her way down to the bowl floor.
** More wind causes ash from burnt thread to fly around. One young youth in the Timor wing learns a tough lesson on 
ducking. Getting a face full of ash, his brown takes him between, the pair returning seconds later.
** Zaith bellows challenge to the thread again, this time veering slightly to allow her rider to prepare to back up 
Devath and her rider should they be needed.
** With a brief cry of concern Coranath darts into *between* narrowly avoiding a seething ball of thread. The 
missed clump falls straight for Langley and Ardenth.
** Devath finishes chewing a piece of firestone Alaida gave her, then hisses and pulls up on her tail to instantly 
belch out a gorge of flame, catching that sliver of thread threatening her. She's using only just the right amount 
of flame for the types of clumbs and slivers.
Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Lacroith's call is quick and brief, concentration much to high to afford 
more easy communication. << Who flies to my right foreside? >>
** Qirith manages the unruly updraft originating from the lower west part of the bowl, and backwings neatly to a 
landing directly below in the Center of the Bowl.
** Ardenth is still a little shaken from having missed that third bit and is thus too short with a turn, banking 
right into the path of that gnarly looking ball. She can't get out her flame fast enough and, even as her orange 
belch stays hovered in the air, the little green hisses a sharp objection to being in pain and winks into 
*between*, cutting short Langley's similarly objecting shout. Heartbeats later, the duo return, but the dragon is 
obviously favoring her right wing, and her spiral back toward Ista Weyr is crooked and ungainly. Ow ow ow.
Dragon> Ibrith bespoke Ista Weyrling dragons with << I'll be to L'son's right. >>
Dragon> Qirith bespoke Ista Weyrling dragons with << ARDENTH! Fly down now, if you cannot I will come for you. >>
** Ibrith bugles with concern at Ardenth and swoops to flame the Thread she's missed and has dared to harm her! He 
roars as a gout of fire spurts from his mouth!
Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Ardenth wouldn't dare take help! << I will land safely, Qirith. Langley 
says I have to. >> Grr.
Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Pryth bugles in concern. << Where are you hit, Ardenth?! >> His mindvoice 
hollers.
Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Qirith growls a little bit. << I will shadow you then. >> And she does 
just that, giving no ground for argument.
Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Ardenth pictures herself with a seared right wingtip, a little raw flesh 
but nothing to cry about. Just, well, stings a little. Okay, a lot. << I will be well. >>
You manage the unruly updraft originating from the lower west part of the bowl, and backwing neatly to a landing in 
** Above you, Uriketh bugles in concern as Ardenth is scored. From his back, Salva swivels around to stare until 
she's jolted back to reality by one of the other weyrlings flying past to flame soem oncoming thread.
** Above you, Several Greens - flighty and fast - dive in and among one another, coming disturbingly close to each 
pther, but managing not to collide. Qolenth, the swiftest among them, spirals toward a seething glob of Thread in a 
breakneck fury. At a critical moment, she winks into *between*. The moment before she reappears stretches into 
eternity. With in moments, it's apparent that S'bass and his emerald green Qolenth will not be returning
Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Lacroith seems concerned a moment before he sends out a firm and proud << 
You fought flame well, Ardenth. Take deserved rest and we will fight in your name. >>
** Above you, Devath bugles before hissing when she hears Ardenth's scream in pain. Alaida only tenses a bit more, 
her mouth seen in a tight line of even more determination. Instantly Devath banks again, belching out, missing a 
piece of thread by mere centimeters and not flaming it. She hisses again, then turns to dive, blasting out another 
flame and this time catching it fully to let it char to the ground. She twists, flying back up to take her position 
in the wing.
Dragon> Ista dragons sense that Qirith is both infuriated and grieved of a sudden, her mind rising like a tidal 
flood with a keening for the lost weyrling pair, S'bass and Qolenth.
Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Devath seems just a bit shaken from Ardenth getting scored that her 
resolve only wavers briefly then she she gathers herself up again, hissing her challanging and hatred to the 
*Thread* that falls.
** Above you, Semeth banks in a sharp turn to finish off the remnants of a clump that was mostly dispatched by the 
wings above. He's economical with his flame, and P'tod is busy digging about in his sack for more 'stone, so that 
he doesn't see Qolenth's disappearance. But the shouts attract his attention, and he looks up, turning his head 
about, wildly searching for the green, his face blanching white.
** Above you, Uriketh takes off after a clump of thread, only noticing Qolenth's disappearance as he returns to the 
formation. He keens softly, as Salva blanches, tears starting to streak her face.
Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Pryth's mind voice is cold and hard. << You must /watch/ the thread. You 
should not be making mistakes. Do not between with out a *picture* >> And yet he grieves but right now he can not 
show that, right now thread is still falling.
Dragon> Qirith bespoke Ista Weyrling dragons with << Keep your attention on the thread, young ones. Grief can be 
saved for later. >>
Dragon> Ista dragons sense that Semeth's voice joins with Qirith's: he gives a bellow of white-hot anguish for the 
lost one. But there's more Thread to be seared and more weyrlings to guard, and after a moment he clamps down on 
his misery to focus with renewed attention on the Thread.
** Above you, Strong bronze wings arc through the Istan sky as Graniath tracks his target. Powerful muscles ripple, 
and claws flex, as he dives for a writhing clump of the deadly silver menace. Strong lungs beclh out fire as he 
chars the mass into ash. Pressed against his lifemate's neckridges, V'drin raises a clenched fist in satisfaction 
at the success of their attack.
** Above you, Marvelth backwings, sending a fiery blast toward a falling cluster of Threads. A snort of frustration 
means that the target was missed, and the cluster still falls, to eventually be singed through by the groundcrews.
Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Zaiths voice is white-blue and fierce as she proclaims, << No more! Don't 
let it through! >> Her fury is incandescent.
** Above you, Mounted on Devath, Alaida doesn't even notice the green's disappeance until Devath keens softly only 
to stop at some silent command. Alaida bows her head, trembling now. It only takes her a few seconds before she 
lifts her head again but now glissening tears are seem on her cheeks. She practically hisses even as Devath mimics 
her. It's only a few seconds before Devath catches another wayward clump in a belch of flame.
Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Devath bugles loudly her assessment!
** Omfaleth lumbers in from the direction of the lower caverns.
** Above you, Taliska fights for control as Wyth suddenly darts between two browns to attack a wayward Threadclump, 
then slips into *between* to avoid being scored. That clump heads right for Alaida and Devath.
** Reye arrives from the southeast, near the living cavern.
** Omfaleth leaves northwest, toward the corrals.
Dragon> Semeth bespoke Ista Weyrling dragons with << Duck, Devath! >>
** Above you, Blinking out of *between* with flame streaming from his mouth, Hoocheth chases after a wriggling ball 
of silvery Threads, following it for several lengths before it's been completely charred.
** Above you, Devath quickly pulls up, her wings giving a swift backwing and she practically hovers there on the 
tip of her tail. She catches that clump in a blast with the hot ashs blowing back at her. She hisses, blinking in 
between to obviously avoid the ashs before she blinks back easily and back into her place in the Wing.
** Above you, Perched atop Zaith, Kyrola moves her wand into place as another large clump gets in their way. With 
Zaith roaring still, the flame shoots out from the thrower, crisping the clump, much to both dragon and rider's 
satisfaction.
Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Devath anger at the thread is evident as she rumbles. << We flamed it, 
Semeth and avoided hot *ashes*. >>
** Above you, Uriketh swoops after another clump, both his and his rider's emotions under control once more. They 
move back into position, Salva keeping a wary eye on the sky above her.
** Above you, More silver rain makes it past Belior, this time a large clump gets broken up in the wind. One clump 
falls for L'son and another for Kyrola.
** Above you, Mounted on Devath, Alaida reaches around, giving Devath more firestone when she snakes her head 
around to demand more. The stone is consumed quickly before Devath turns her head back around.
** Above you, Above, the ear peircing screech of a green getting hit by thread is heard. The uncharred clump falls 
right for Jai!
** Above you, Zaith may not be as agile as the smaller dragons, but she can still backwing and hover long enough 
for her rider to let her wand track the incoming thread and flick the control sear it from the skies! After they 
ensure it's gone, the resume their place in the formation.
Dragon> Ista dragons sense that Qirith lets her thoughts ripple through the weyr dragons. << Pay attention! All of 
you! Do not let Qolenth's *death* be in vain as you all are scored! It is *Bad* >>
** Above you, Hoocheth angles downward, his wings tucked close to his side as he flames a cluster from above. As it 
disintegrates and wafts away on the wind, the blue glides through the dust-filled sky, craning his head back toward 
J'eff for more fuel.
** Above you, The tone of the weyrling wing is somber now. They all realize that S'bass and his lifemate are not 
returning. Perhaps that is why Alsa is not paying as much attention all around her as she should be. Uroleth bugles 
in warning, veering sharply to the left as a large patch of thread seems to come barreling right at them. The blue 
nearly makes it out of the way but he himself does not see another smaller clump coming at them from that side. 
It's partially charred but not enough. It slashes through Alsa's arm, continueing down her side. Uroleth is not 
spared for the clump he was originally avoiding catches him on the wing, gashing right through the fragile wing 
sails.
Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Lacroith quickly assesses the situation, his rider's mind evident in the 
mix. << We do not think Ibrith or his rider can see the thread. Pryth, the clump heading our way is small. We will 
move to assist the young one. >> The idea is tranced with question as Lacroith awaits the order to act on it.
Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Pryth rumbles. << Yes, go get it before it hurts anyone else. >>
Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Zaith shouts, << PAY ATTENTION! >>
Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Pryth hollers out. << Watch out Uroleth! >> but it's too late, the 
weyrling pair is scored.
** Above you, Uriketh swoops over towards Uroleth, flaming the clump that has just scored the pair. Salva is dead 
white as she looks over at Alsa and realizes the girl was scored.
** Above you, Devath bugles again, catching yet another smaller clump that flitters down toward her. It seems like 
the clump moves normally but then a gust of wind catches it and blows it directly toward it. She gets half a flame 
out before she blinks to between then blinks back with half the clump missed!
Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Pryth bugles. << Ibrith! You should between now! Lacroith has that clump! 
>>
Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Devath seems just outraged with herself as she mentally hisses. << I 
missed it! >>
** Above you, Zaith tilts slightly toward Devath's path, Kyrola shifting the wand to let her flame blast toward the 
half of a clump the green didn't quite get. Then, Kyrola gives Alaida an encouraging gesture!
** Above you, With Palila urging her on strongly, Louvirth wheels about in mid-air, flaming valiantly at a falling 
clump, and charring it completely.
Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Zaith notes quietly, confidently, << We got it, Devath. No wherries. >>
** Above you, Mounted on Devath, Alaida looks just as angry as Devath sounds then raises a hand to Kyrola to thank 
her. It's a brief though before Devath moves to catch another smaller piece of tendril and this time doesn't miss 
anything as she starts from the bottom and flames it easily.
** Above you, Ibrith disappears *between*, reappearing on the other side of Lacroith with a bugle of indication for 
the Igen dragon and his rider. He then dives down.
** Above you, Lacroith's flame rushes into the space where Ibrith was, crackling and folding the thread clump in on 
itself until the charred ash breezes away. Lifting a wingsail sharply to avoid flying into the searing mess, 
Lacroith finds his way back to position, this time flying the weyrling spot while Ibrith and Jai take his position 
next to Pryth.
** Above you, As the sun rises, cast more light on the fight dragon pairs and on Ista thread slowly is passing 
over, drawing to a complete. As the last strands are slowly flamed from the sky, one last clump is rather large. 
The wind catches it, breaking into two clumps. One heads for Sonya and Pryth and the second heads for P'tod and 
Semeth.
** Above you, Sunlight returns to the sky as the death-cloud moves off, and the trailing edge of Threadfall passes 
overhead.
** Above you, Semeth rears his head back to sear the entire clump of Thread to harmless ash.
Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Pryth wants to wind this up. << Everyone do your last poses! >>
** Above you, Ibrith levels out just below Lacroith and trumpets at him thankfully, then beats his wings to return 
to his place in the wing formation.
** Above you, Uriketh bugles angrily after the thread, wheeling around to watch it pass. On his back Salva slumps 
forward, exhausted and upset.
** Above you, Devath just bugles, lifting her head just after she flames the last bit of thread. She sends her 
challange off to the trailing edge as if to say she'll always be there to meet it and char it! On her back, Alaida 
groans softly, rolling her shoulder but doesn't let off her guard just yet.
** Above you, Zaith roars at the last clump of thread to get in /her/ way, and her rider flames it to ash with the 
confidence of new practice. Then, she finally allows herself to give voice to the grief of losing one of their own, 
a keen emanating from her throat.
Dragon> Devath bespoke Ista Weyrling dragons with << We *tire*. >>
** Above you, Pryth bugles, veering to the left. Thread is comeing to an end! Maybe caught off guard, this pair is 
because they spent much of their time watching the weyrlings, making sure they were moving correctly, skipping 
right and flaming properly. Or maybe the wind catches this last clump just right. But what ever the reason, Sonya 
does not see it and it wraps around her arm. She utters a holler just befor Pryth takes them to the blessed cold of 
*between*
Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Pryth's mind voice is sharp as suddenly thread has scored his rider. << 
Hit. She is hit! ><
** Above you, Devath instantly dives after the thread Pryth missed and lets out a large, albiet a bit too much, 
flame to char it completely.
Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Qirith growls quick and without mercy, << Then get her to the bowl floor. 
Semeth will take over leading the weyrlings to safety. >> She's in no-nonsense mode right now and distracted by 
many pained minds on the ground.
Dragon> Zaith bespoke Ista Weyrling dragons with << Get her down to the *ground*, Pryth. Semeth is here to lead 
still. >>
** Above you, Semeth immediately winks between. When he re-emerges, he's at the head of the wing, with P'tod 
twisting in the straps to look from side to side and guide him into place.
Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Pryth bugles, angry. << She says it is not bad. We go down now. >>
Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Semeth projects reassurance like a firm anchor, drawing the weyrling 
dragons' attention back to the task at hand.
** Above you, Lacroith swings back to his original place, now to the right of Semeth instead of Pryth. He roars for 
the fall of the wingleader and bucks his head in the wind.
Dragon> Pryth bespoke Ista Weyrling dragons with << Semeth, lead them! Fall is almost over! >>
** Pryth looms above, then backwings to a landing with a huge rush of air.
** Above you, Devath darts back up to her place in the Wing.
** Pryth leaves northwest, toward the corrals.
** Above you, Uriketh swoops back into position, Salva sitting up and looking shocked.
Dragon> Semeth bespoke Ista Weyrling dragons with << We are here! We lead! See to your rider, Pryth. >>
** Above you, Zaith snarls as Pryth's rider is scored, but she retains her place in the formation.
Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Devath croons to Pryth, sending comforting thoughts. << *Sonya* will be 
alright. Numbweed always makes it better but get her to the healers. >>
Dragon> Pryth bespoke Ista Weyrling dragons with << An ooc note here, those were all my poses I had ready. :) >>
Dragon> Devath bespoke Ista Weyrling dragons with << OOC: ok. Woa. You had poses ready? >>
Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Pryth grins. << Yea, all those were all ready wrote up. :)
Dragon> Uriketh bespoke Ista Weyrling dragons with << OOC: Very nice :) >>
** Above you, Mounted on Devath, Alaida sighs and turns in her seat to peer back at P'tod while Devath still 
remains alert for any last stray piece of thread from the upper Wings.
** Above you, Astride Lacroith, L'son scans the sky anxiously, his riding leather's blackened with ash. He glances 
to P'tod and Semeth as he chews his lip.
Dragon> Devath bespoke Ista Weyrling dragons with << Alaida says she sees no more *thread* falling. Is it over? We 
*ache*. >>
** Above you, Zaith looks up, around, and to the side. Her rider spits some ash out with a ptooey, wiping grime off 
her goggles with a dirty glove.
** Above you, Semeth and his rider watch as the upper wings char the last remnants of Thread. With piercing 
whistles and shouts, the all-clear passes through the ranks.
Dragon> Semeth bespoke Ista Weyrling dragons with << It is done. All should *land* so that your riders may check to 
make sure you are not *injured*. >>
You head northwest, toward the corrals.
Ardenth heads towards you from the southeast.
Salva finishes checking over Uriketh and removes his straps as the brown joins in the mournful keen. His rider 
starts crying again, not making any noise as the tears flood down her face.
Radar shivers reflexively at that mournful keen, but can't stay frozen in sympathy. He forces himself to keep 
moving and follow Reye's requests. He carefully spreads numbweed on the taut canvas, quietly apologizing repeatedly 
to the injured dragon.
Semeth's hide takes on a muted tone as he allows grief, finally, to overwhelm him. He rears up on his hind legs and 
thrusts his muzzle skyward, sending his keen to the moons and beyond. Then, he settles all four legs to the ground 
and buries his head beneatht he protective cover of one wing.
A'zric leans in to comment quietly to Chaia. He mutters to Chaia, "... at one of... is probably the most... right 
now." 
Ibrith emerges through cavernous opening of the Weyrling Barracks.
Jai climbs down from Ibrith's neck.
Kyrola nods and clambers up onto the table with Fluria, silently fishing out a clean hanky from within her riding 
jacket to at least try to clean her hands off, in case they're needed.
Xander leans forward grabbing a paddle working it out of the salve and moving away to give Radar room to work. The 
paddle is held gently as if it were fragile up to the point. It nearly slips out of his hands at the noise but his 
grip is held. The farmhand joins in spreading salve across the canvas.
Moving a little slower than normal, Ardenth is a touch droopy now. She looks well, for all intents and purposes, 
despite sporting a slight bandage on the very end of her wingtip. Langley boasts a similar item on one hand, and 
both of them look a touch defeated as they make their way across the bowl from a distant but oh so handy 
dragonhealer.
Alaida takes a deep breath, trembling as she undoes her jacket even as tears continue to fall down her cheeks. She 
reaches to pat Devath and masterfully yanks up her emotions to turn and head over to the healers and dragonhealers. 
Though her tears still fall, she isn't incapcitated and asks to the nearest healer. "Do you need help? ";
P'tod pulls off his gloves and uses his sweaty hands to wipe at his face, smearing black ash across his forehead. 
He mutters a steady stream of words under his breath, unintelligible but for the odd curse.
nearest dragonhealer.. that is
Chaia nods to the bronzerider and answers softly, She mutters to A'zric, "... was... themselves... didn't they?" 
L'son slowly slides down from Lacroith, touching the ground with a bit of a thump. Methodically, he checks over the 
bronze for injury, but finds none. Surprisingly, the bronze and his rider are much more tired than many of the 
others, even the greens. Lee tugs at his jacket and pulls it away, dropping it to the ground as he labours for 
breath.
A'zric nods to Chaia, "Very well."
Echo hears Semeth's mournful keen and frowns, coming out of herself and looking up from the ground. She hurries 
towards him, sniffling. "Oh, Semeth! I saw it too!"
Alaida yanks off her jacket and tosses it away from her against the Weyr wall, then moves to quickly wash her 
hands. She steps up to Reye, "Ma'am? May I help? " she asks in a controlled, stiff voice.
Semeth tucks his head in tighter beneath his wing and curls his tail protectively around his body, hiding from 
Echo.
Salva takes a deep breath before stepping away from her keening dragon and over to the nearest healer. She's still 
a mess, ash and tears mixing on her face to make her quite the sight, but her voice is steady as she inquires, "May 
I help with anything?"
Lacroith slumps down with a whuff and breathes deeply, large barrel chest rising and falling slowly.
Reye flutters distractedly over the brown's shattered wingsail, a motion for Xander and Radar to stop. "That's 
good... we don't want to spread the numbweed too thick here, or there'll be nothing for the remainders of the 
wingsail to adhere too. It'd slide around like 'lizards on a frozen pond, you catch me? Right. Now carefully, very 
carefully, take some of the sail and lay it flat, so that it's supported by the canvas. You catch me? Not quickly, 
mind, I want to be sure you've got it right."
The healer finishes with Sonya. "Nothing too major, just a minor score. Keep it well wrapped for a sevenday." Said 
healer approaches Fluria to give her the same report. "It's just a minor score, she merely needs to keep it 
wrapped." with that other patients are attended to. Finally Sonya can stand. She moves over to L'son's side, asking 
with some concern. "Are you and Lacroith ok? You fought really well up there. You two should stay, grab something 
to eat and drink before you make your return.
A'zric moves through the wings, hurrying to calls here and there about ash burns, or minor scores, numbeeding and 
stitching. He calls over the hubbub, "I think the healers need the help tonight, they're short handed and riders 
get injured as well as dragons."
Echo shakes her head and hurries off into the Living Caverns.
Ardenth curls up out of the way, her offended wingtip carefully aligned against the inner curve of her body as 
Langley heads straight into the thick of things. "They told me to bring over this numbweed since they're done with 
it over there, sir," she reports, holding a pot out toward A'zric since he's conveniently in her line of sight.
Echo travels southeast towards the center of the bowl.
Reye then motions for Alaida to join them. "See what we're up to here, 'Laida? Shells girl, you must be exhausted. 
Alright. Wash up in redwort, please, twice, then oil. You'll have some numbweed on your hands for this."
Chaia recruits two of the kitchen workers who've come to gawk and slips off to the kitchens. They return laden with 
wineskins, and while full riders are not ignored, it's the weyrlings who are offered the cups first, for the 
caverns staff seems to know that they won't leave the bowl unless ordered, and they've experienced their first 
loss, most of them.
Radar backs off and replaces the paddle in the bucket. Very carefully and slowly he tries to line up the pieces of 
wingsail and gently smooth them down. A single tear rolls out of his left eye but he keeps working. "Is this what 
you want, Weyrwoman?"
A'zric takes the pot from Langley, "Thank you. Dont forget to stop by the infirmary in the morning to have that 
wingtip looked at and the bandage changed."
Fluria nods to the healer, hearing her, but doesn't look up from working on the weyrlings wing. Focused as she is 
on piecing the wing together. It takes awhile, but finally she finishes and takes a step back with a sigh. "That 
will do...there wasn't much sail left." She says, mostly to herself but for Kyrola's benefit as well. And now she 
clambers off the table and moves to eyeball the side wound, which has been carefully redworted and numbed. "A 
bandage won't really work here...so it will have to be kept clean. Okay folks, we're going to have to move him to 
the infirmary!" She calls over a number of people and the procession begins, slowly, but with purpose.
Alaida nods to her mentor as she looks up at the tattered wing. "Yes, Ma'am. " then she moves to quickly wash up in 
redwort then dips her cleansed hands into some clean oil all after she rolls up her sleeves completely. She walks 
back, looking definitely tired, almost exhausted, but she keeps going.
"Yessir," says Langley automatically, shooting a glance of furtive concern back toward Ardenth, who's either asleep 
or pretending very hard that she's asleep. "Um, is there anything I can do, sir? I mean, I think - well, I can run 
around and carry things if you need it. Or if anyone does, I suppose."
"Yes, lad, that's perfect," Reye answers, her blue gaze taking in the weaver's expression with no small amount of 
sympathy. "Just like putting together a patchwork quilt, yes? Don't worry -- I do believe he'll fly again, but he 
won't get the flexibility back for a long while. Our job is to get as much of this wing peiced together as 
possible, and if there's loose bits about, as awful as it may sound, we need those too."
Xander grits his teeth picking up a piece of the sail between his fingers gentle and rolling it into place before 
he settles it gently down in the salve. It's a laborious process the first time as he's unsure of his deftness at 
this task. He tries to match his piece up to the one Radar just placed.
L'son slides down to the ground, sitting with his legs straight out, leaning against Lacroith's sooty flank. 
"Yeah..." he pants and smiles up at Sonya. "Just a bit...tired. We had fall over Keroon earlier and then Lochy 
chased a green after. He's...about at his limit now. Finally. Me too." The rider from Igen quiets after and looks 
up with concern. "How's your arm? You okay?"
P'tod strides over from checking on some other weyrlings further down. It's Langley who first falls within his line 
of sight, and he gestures for her to approach. "Langley!" he calls, in case there was any mistake about it.
Mikel pops out of *between*, quickly peers around, and gracefully glides to perfect landing.
Sonya quirks a grin, holding out the bandaged arm. "A minor score. Nothing to be concerned about really.
A'zric nods to Langley, "Most of the dragons seem to be under control." he pauses as P'tod calls for the green 
weyrling, "Why dont you see what P'tod needs." he moves ovre towards where Reye's working, watching with a 
supervisory air.
L'son nods slowly and runs a hand through his sweaty hair. "Good, that's good. And the others? I'm afraid I don't 
know...the names well."
Sonya eyes L'son over. "Then you should definatly rest before returning to Igen." a wine skin is thrust at her and 
she passes it straight to L'son instead.
Langley snaps automatically to a less listless stance, sucking it in and holding her bandaged hand against her 
belly closely. "Yes, sir!" she says, whirling to face P'tod expectantly. "What, sir?" She looks about ready to face 
down a stampede of herdbeasts if need be the case. (Might be easier than dealing with P'tod in one of his *moods*, 
really.)
Mikel flits around L'son's head, chittering with concern, impatience and hunger? His eyes whirl slightly red and he 
perches on the bronzerider's shoulder.
"Alaida, if you could, fetch some reeds and gauze, please." All evening, pained and injured dragons all about, and 
this weyrwoman has never once given an order -- all requests. That blue gaze finds her greenriding mentee. "We'll 
support the trailing edge once we're done with these peices, and then we're done."
Raising a hand to deflect the wine, Lee shakes his head, eyes closed. "No thanks. Water...would be good though."
Devath settles herself on the ground, looking a dusty green and just a bit dull. Without a single prompting, she 
leaps up, taking wing and crashes over to the corral to come plowing down on a large herdbeast, who squeals in 
sudden panic but it only lasts so long before Devath rips open its neck and splatters blood everywhere.
Ahem. The weyrwoman speaking to Alaida, of course, would be Reye. Right.
Sonya's eyes gloss over. "We lost...S'bass." her voice cracks with emotion that she tries to keep in check. She 
takes a swig of the wine herself then, grabbing someone to bring L'son water. That's brought over quickly. "But 
Arla...her brown is pretty bad. I'm not sure...not...make it." she choaks out.
Radar can't find any pieces of wingsail near him (thank goodness), so he concentrates on simply lining up the 
fragments and slivers of sail still attached to the brown. He looks over to Xander and asks, "Did you find any over 
there?"
P'tod's jaw is set and his eyes rake over Langley; he doesn't speak immediately. "I saw Ardenth take a score," he 
says finally. "She's been seen to? and you?"
Alaida nods, glancing over at Devath briefly before getting some reeds and gauze from the preparation table. She's 
very careful in what she gets, almost critically examining them before walking over to Reye and climbs up on the 
table to stand next to her. "Ma'am. " and she offers the items.
A'zric too climbs up on that poor over crowded table next to the injured brown, looming as he watches.
Salva follows one of the healers around, carrying bandages and numbweed. She smiles weakly at Xander as she passes, 
then shakes her head as a wineglass is offered. "We can't have any." she whispers, looking regretful.
Xander finds two particular tricky ones and gestures to Radar, "Here's two, if we each take one maybe we can line 
them up just right. They're not too big." He fusses slightly over them scooting over to make room for Alaida and 
for Radar to help him with the wing.
Langley nods firmly, her chin coming up several degress by the time it's over. "We've both been looked at and are 
both just fine, sir. She's grounded for a week, and then has to be looked over again before being cleared for 
flight." If that's a lump in her throat, she sure does a good job of talking around it.
L'son smiles thankfully to the person who brings him water and takes a long swig of it before pouring a good 
quantity over his head. Shaking violently, water sprays out around him. "What about...Langley? Langley and her 
lifemate? I think I heard those names. Are they okay? And someone else on a dragon named Devath?"
"Thanks, 'Laida," Reye says, clinically studying the wing as the two lads peice together the sail. "You boys look 
like you're made for this. Alright, steady... good job. Let's shift this bit, shall we? It looks like it's meant to 
stretch forward a bit more, and then connect with this one -- less of a gap, see? Alaida, you watching? You should 
see how this is done too."
Devath easily and hungerily takes down the herdbeast, who she tears into to eat the warm, bloody flesh. My she's a 
hungry green. Once she's done, she leaps up again to come crashing down on a clipped wing wherry to eat that as 
well.
Kyrola continues trailing after Fluria, trying to keep the baffled, but weary, expression off her face. She stops 
by a redwort bucket and douses her hands twice in the stuff, then some oil, in case that's needed.
Alaida nods to Reye even as she tilts her head at L'son's words. She doesn't respond though while she keeps her 
attention on the wing Reye is working to fix.
Sonya grins again. "Langley and Ardenth are fine. Minor score on them, that's all. Devath? I didn't think she got 
injured." she looks around, trying to catch sight of the pair.
"You weren't scored?" P'tod presses, still looking Langley over. "You're lucky-- could have been worse. You should 
see to her. Don't wander too far. She'll need you there. Don't let all this excitement distract you."
Fluria pauses as the blue is wheeled off and turns back to Kyrola. "You might want to attend Reye for awhile. 
She'll explain things more than I did." And then she turns again and starts off once more.
Radar grits his teeth and stretches out the fragment of wingsail that Xander gives him to line it up as requested.
L'son finally glances up to Mikel on his shoulder and smiles softly. "Make sure Myn knows we're okay, hmm?" he 
tells the little brown firelizard.
Chaia tells Salva, "A'zric's suggestion. You get dispensation to have wine tonight, the lot of you. And I'm sure 
Sonya won't object either...considering."
A'zric comments with a pointing hand, "Careful, careful, you're stretching that back part out of alignment, I think 
that gap is still workable."
Reye suddenly finds A'zric beside her -- how long has he been up on this table too? "Oh, good. Opinions, Yaz? I 
think we've just about got it." A gesture to Alaida is meant to direct the weyrling around to the trailing edge of 
the sail. "Back there, lass, and we'll get you right to work. We're just about done, and then I think the 
healers'll be shoving wine down your gullet."
Langley keeps looking over at Sonya and L'son as her name comes up, brows furrowing as if trying to discern the 
gist of their conversation amid chaos like this. But she snaps her attention back to P'tod with a quick shake of 
her head. "I wasn't, sir. I just, uh, hurt my hand a little." So she blushes just a touch admitting that, then nods 
quickly. "She's okay now, sir. She says it doesn't even hurt much any more."
Kyrola nods quickly and trots over to where Reye and Alaida are.
Mikel warbles brightly but doesn't leave L'son's shoulder. he croons over to Lacroith and then back to the 
bronzerider.
P'tod scowls, but he nods, accepting Langley's reassurance reluctantly. "Don't let me catch you deviating a 
fingertip from what the dragonhealers tell you to do," he warns her.
Lacroith snorts once and then closes his eyes, to tired to deal with cheeky firelizards.
Salva nods as the healer she's trailing dismisses her and wanders over to Reye, wincing as she eyes the damaged 
wing. "Ma'am? Can I help?" Chaia's comment makes her glance up, but she still refuses the offered glass, at least 
until she's done helping.
Alaida shakes her head lightly and murmurs. "We aren't allowed to have wine, Ma'am. " she comments, her voice still 
tense and in control. She moves where Reye directs her while holding supplies.
A little peeved, Langley nonetheless replies, "I'm not going to, sir. You don't have to lecture me about this, I 
promise." Irritated or not, she can't help looking back to the halfway dozing Ardenth every now and again. "Can I 
go see if Alaida needs help running around, sir? She's been trotting non-stop."
L'son reaches out to Sonya to touch her knee gently. "Hey, I'm sure they're okay. It was a pretty bad fall. Some 
bad cross winds. But you did well to keep so many safe when so many could have been hurt and killed. I'm no 
weyrlingmaster. Heck, I'm just a lowly wing rider on the tail end of Sandstorm wing at Igen, but I do know good 
leadership. You did well."
Fluria travels southeast towards the center of the bowl.
Reye hops off the table, scooping up some rushes and gauze. At least it frees up the poor table a bit. They don't 
make those things like they used to. "C'mon," she says to Alaida, Salva and Kyrola. "Let's finish up the trailing 
edge while A'zric's got the top." With that, she instructs the girls in how to position the rushes and gauze, 
fastinging them to the canvas at the trailing edge. "This section takes a lot of care... I bet you can see why. If 
there's lots of scarring at the trailing edge, well, that's the most tender part of the sail."
Kyrola nods as she takes in Reye's words, squinting for a better look at what she's pointing at and such.
Salva murmurs to Alaida, "Chaia said we're allowed some tonight, but I'm not so sure getting drunk will solve 
anything." That said she turns her attention to Reye.
Sonya grins slightly down at L'son. "I know but it hurts..it hurts." she softly before moving from his side to 
check over her weyrlings. She takes a long pull of her own wineskin. "You are allowed to drink, tonight."
Xander ensures that his piece matches up with Radar's and then pats it down gently. He steps back examining the 
wing a little further, but he seems to be lost on what else to do with it, "Looks like that's finished now." He 
reaches up a hand and wipes the sweat from his forehead.
Alaida smoothly hops down, careful to not touch anything with her clean hands. She follows Reye and briefly glances 
to Salva wordless but nods a bit before turning back to her mentor. She listens to Reye, doing as she's told with 
silent determination and a bit of coldness. For the first time, this is a strange look on the young girl's 
features.
"Go," P'tod says, dismissing Langley with a wave of his hand. "No. Wait. Speaking of Alaida." He scans the crowd of 
people for her. "Where is she? If you see her, tell her to come see me."
L'son nods to Sonya as she moves away to tend her charges. Sighing softly, he closes his eyes and absently reaches 
up to scritch Mikel.
Radar finishes with the pieces that he can find one the poor battered brown's wing and tells Reye, "That's it for 
this side. What do you want me to do next?"
Devath leaps up again, finishing her wherry and crashing down on another large herdbeast to make it her third large 
animal, which she quickly makes of good use. Strangely, despite her rider's attention on helping Reye mend a dragon 
wing, she turns, calling. "That's the last, Devath! " then turns back to Reye with an apologic look.
"It helps you forget, for a while. Enough so's your dragon isn't so upset," Reye murmurs to Salva, one hand pulling 
a length of wherrygut from a pouch at her belt. "Watch these stitches. We're going to use small running stitches, 
here at the edge, fastening cloth to rushes. Just gives some extra support. And these sorts of stitches, they're 
harder to learn, but they scar less, too. You really want to avoid scar tissue at the trailing edge." The weyrwoman 
hands off some gauze and rushes with one hand in the direction of the others. "What I need you to do is fasten it 
along the edge, and I'll run along and stitch it up. Try to keep the fabric taught with the rushes, mind. Use gauze 
where the sail is thinner."
Kyrola's trio of firelizards come out of the weyrling barracks and settle along Zaith's broad back, chirruping 
reassurance.
Chaia hands off her wineskins to others, and moves toward L'son to ask softly, "You're drinking just water, aren't 
you? Need a refill?"
Langley takes two steps off, then nods and looks back again. "I will, sir." Then she dashes off, cupping her hand 
and weaving through people. She stops on her way, glancing at the visiting L'son and says, "I meant to say thank 
you, sir. It was, um, nice of you to stick it out with us."
Alaida murmurs, commenting to Reye. "Gut to help the inner stitches so they desolve when healed and normal thread 
for the outside that can be taken out, right, Ma'am? "
Salva nods to Reye as she takes some rushes and gauze. "If you say so, ma'am." She focuses on the work in front of 
her, shutting out the chaos around her.
A'zric notes, reaching to support another spot on the wing, "Truly, scar tissue on the wing at all is to be 
avoided."
L'son's eyes blink open again as Chaia speaks. "Yes, please. That's very kind. Thank you Chaia." He holds out the 
empty skin in his hands and lolls his head around when Langley approaches. "Well, we were here. No sense in not 
helping if we could help. We're all in this thing together, eh?" He gives the weyrling a smile before tilting his 
head and asking with heartfelt concern. "I saw you get hit I think. Is your lifemate alright? Are you alright?"
Chaia swaps the empty skin for a full one, of just water, and then addresses Langley with no hint of any of the 
barbs that usually fly between them. "I've water and wine here, Langley, take your pick, if you want either."
Langley tosses her chin slightly and says, "We're fine, sir, but thanks for your concern." Even if she'd like to 
shove it someplace painful and spikey. "Anyway. It was good to fly with you, sir. And neither, Chaia. I've had more 
water poured down my throat than I can handle. Have you seen Alaida?"
Reye casts Alaida a rather surprised glance. "Where'd you come by that? Yes, generally. The gut is rather strong 
though, so I'm partial regardless if it's something that won't need its strength too long. But this one, I'm 
'fraid, won't be flying 'afore the turn is out." A faint seafaring accent, not often audible, becomes more apparent 
in Reye's voice with the concentration in her work. A'zric's words bring her back. "Of course -- scar tissue'd make 
it..." Reye frowns, thinking up an analogy for the weyrlings. "... like having a sweater on that's too tight. Can't 
stretch the wings so far."
L'son gets up finally, collecting his jacket. "Is there someplace Lacroith can get something to eat?"
Kyrola grimaces as she watches Reye, still squinting to see exactly what is being done.
Alaida nods lightly, assisting where is needed. "I had overheard some dragonhealers talking, Ma'am. They were 
talking on the uses of the different types of thread and gut to use. " she comments casually, still in a tight 
voice.
Chaia directs L'son to the proper place, and tells Langley, "Alaida's with Reye, I think, over there."
Salva looks up from her work long enough to blink at Alaida. "Are you okay? Well, none of us are okay." she 
corrects herself. "But are you somewhat okay?"
Langley nods quickly and says, "Thank you, ma'am." She even smiles at Chaia, just to be different, and then cuts 
off once more toward what she assumes is the direction of Reye and Alaida. Weaving through dragons and people, it 
takes time to get that far.
L'son nods to Chaia thankfully and glances to Lacroith. "You get something to eat while I have a bit of a rest, 
okay Lochy?" The bronze finally rises up, shaking out his body with tremulous muscle shakes. Whuffing at his 
lifemate, the bronze starts to lumber away towards the corral.
Lacroith lifts up glides over the fence into the pens.
Alaida nods to Salva. "I'm fine. " she comments in a tense voice.
Radar coughs and asks A'zric and Reye, "Is there anything else I can do to help?"
Sonya looks tired, very tired. She moves to each weyrling to inspect them and make sure they are ok. She keeps the 
'skin in her left hand, occasionally taking a long pull from it. The keening for the departed Weyrling has long 
since died off but the mournful look still haunts her. Pryth's hide is greyed slighty as he lays there, mirroring 
his lifemate's weariness.
Kyrola looks over her shoulder as Sonya stops by her cluster of weyrlings with Reye, and she offers the 
Weyrlingmaster a sharp salute.
Devath finally flies out of the corral and settles herself down to rest on the bowl floor. She croons softly, her 
eyes tinged with yellow to show that she is effected by what happened today just as much as everyone. Now with her 
full belly, she relaxes.
Reye bobs her head, stitches running smoothly now with the sort of ease that speaks of long practice. She slows 
near a batten, carefully weaving around the irregular sail. "And you'll find every dragonhealer has their own 
preferences, too. You'll likely get your own, after a time. That's one thing about dragonhealing -- there are 
generally accepted ways to do things, but that isn't saying there isn't a better one waiting for someone to find 
it." Finally the weyrwoman finishes, and steps back to take a long appraisal, her steps taking her around all edges 
of the sail, and back to the table again. "No Radar, I think we're about done."
Salva nods, frowning, and turns back to her work, pausing only to salute Sonya. "Ma'am. How's your arm?"
L'son stretches slightly and turns for the bowl and the caverns, dripping wet from pouring water over himself. 
"Well done" he absently calls to the weyrlings still around as well as the other riders who flew. "An honour to 
fight with you." And he heads off for the caverns.
L'son travels southeast towards the center of the bowl.
Mission or not, Langley stops on her way past the very tired Weyrlingmaster and asks, "Do you need help, ma'am? 
With... whatever it is you're doing?" Brows furrowed, lower lip chewed, she doesn't look *comfortable* and is 
readily distracted by Salva's appearance. "Where's Alaida? P'tod wants to talk to her."
Rhianwen walks out of the Weyrling Barracks to the north.
Lacroith backwings to a landing after flying over the fences of the corral.
Salva blinks at Langley, then points across the table to where Alaida stands. "Right there, Langley. How's 
Ardenth?"
Lacroith returns soon after he left, some blood streaking his muzzle, bright against the soot and ash. He seems to 
take up a protective place near the other dragons, watching them curiously.
Sonya returns Kyrola's salute, with the wrong arm and that gains a gasp from the Weyrlingmaster. To Langley she 
shakes her head. "No, I don't need anythying. Just rest. You should just rest." she offers a weak smile.
A'zric nods approvingly to Reye, "Your stitches have improved a lot in the last couple of turns."
Radar climbs down off the table and picks up a pair of water skins. He wanders through the crowd, offering clean 
water to anyone who needs it.
Alaida reaches a hand up and rubs her brow with her arm, smearing dust over her upper arm. She glances at the 
stitching Reye did and nods. "That looks very neat, Ma'am. " she murmurs softly, still looking tired.
"Got a lot of practice down south," Reye answers A'zric, red-stained hands set firmly on hips, her appraising gaze 
never leaving the brown dragon. "There weren't many folk there familiar with the techniques we use at Ista."
P'tod picks his way over toward Semeth and leans against his lifemate's haunch. The brown still has his head tucked 
beneath his wing, and he's unmoving except for breathing. Perhaps he's asleep. Perhaps not.
Hey, don't blame Langley if she's a little distracted. "Oh. Thanks," she tells Salva, blinking toward the 
greenrider in question. She bats a hand at the latter question and says, "She's fine. She's resting. They say 
she'll be back one hundred percent in no time." She flashes a transparent smile and nods at Sonya, saying, "Take 
your own advice." Then she works her way around the table for Alaida.
Xander hops off the table and dusts off his hands which are slippery and reddened from redwort. He makes himself 
available for any who still need attention.
Chaia travels southeast towards the center of the bowl.
Zaith curls her wing over her rider's discarded and smelly gloves, helmet, and flamethrower to protect them from 
casual stumbling over. Over near the cluster of weyrlings, her rider comments, "We'll be all right soon."
Salva nods to Langley and finishes up with her section of wing. "Ma'am? Can I go now?" she asks Reye. "I want a 
bath and something to drink."
Sonya makes her way back to lean against Pryth wearily. "Werylings," she manages to say, her voice carrying 
somehow. "You are dismissed." that seems to be all the energy she has.
Langley steps around Xander with a glance for the fellow, wearing what looks pretty close to a permanent frown for 
the occasion. "Excuse me," she adds, then reaches with her good hand toward Alaida's shoulder for the tapping. 
"Hey. P'tod wants to talk to you. He looks cross."
Reye lets out a long breath, bobbing her head. "Yes, go. You've spent a long day. Good job, all of you."
Salva salutes everyone in the general vincinity before crossing back over to Uriketh. As she passes Xander she 
grins weakly, remarking, "I told you if you hung out near the barracks you'd see me again."
A'zric comments to the gathering as a whole, "There's a bite to eat and wine in the living cavern, dont forget to 
eat."
Alaida glances over at Sonya, then to Langley before Reye. She nods lightly and murmurs. "If you need my help, 
Ma'am, just have Omfaleth bespeak to Devath. I'll come running. " then she turns to Langley. She sighs at her words 
and nods. "Where is he? " she asks while looking around for Semeth and him.
Langley looks over her shoulder even as she shrugs it. "I dunno. I left him back there somewhere. Look for Semeth. 
That's where I saw him." She sniffs a little after A'zric's remark and says, "I think a bath first, maybe, sir. 
Firestone stinks."
P'tod runs a hand lightly over Semeth's broad hind leg, biting at his lip as he makes the half-hearted attempt to 
comfort his lifemate.
Kyrola looks down toward the living caverns for a moment, but she remains near Sonya. "Do you need a hand or 
anything?" she asks quietly, keeping her eyes on the others.
Radar takes advantage of A'zric's suggestion to go wash his hands and get a snack.
Radar travels southeast towards the center of the bowl.
L'son heads towards you from the southeast.
Reye directs a group of fresh dragons and healers to help move the brown to the infirmary, so the ambient group 
can, well, relax. Her shoulders slump slightly, and Omfaleth shifts her egg-heavy body to nudge gently at her 
rider. "Yes, Om. We really should get you back to our weyr before you pop. Faranth forbid."
L'son returns from the caverns with two packages under his arms smelling /very/ much like butter fried spiderclaws 
sauted in garlic. Smiling out at the others as he makes his way towards his lifemate, L'son nods departers to 
people he passes, calling out things like "I was impressed with /that/ manoever" and "We'll have to start trying 
that at Igen!" Eventually, he reaches his lifemate and stores his packages in satchels on the dragon's straps 
before mounting.
L'son easily climbs and pulls himself up to Lacroith's neckridges where he diligently straps in.
Alaida nods and sighs. She glances up to Reye before back to Langley and nods yet again. She looks tired as she 
begins to walk in that direction, looking for P'tod. She jumps up a bit, trying to see past the larger bodies then 
pauses to take a deep breath to continue on her search. She weaves her tiny body through people, keeping an eye out 
for Semeth - for where he is, P'tod is nearby. She finally notices him in the crowd and heads over to him.
Lacroith shifts and moves away from the others to a good launching spot. In a second, his legs are tensed and he 
launches away, winging tiredly into the sky towards home.
Sonya lets her gaze sweep over the bowl. She answers Kyrola quietly, her voice emotionless. "Another skin of wine?" 
she attempts to smile. "No, why don't you and Zaith rest. As soon as everyone is cleared out, i'll find D's..." 
here she pauses then shrugs. "I'll be alright. I'll return to my weyr and rest." L'son is spotted mounting Lacroith 
and she saultes, this time with her left hand. "Clear skies, L'son from Igen. Good fighting tonight."
Ardenth> Lacroith senses that Ardenth, who must not be asleep after all, allows herself the luxury of grateful 
thoughts in your direction.
Astride Lacroith, L'son waves to Sonya from Lacroith in the air just before the two are out of sight between.
Lacroith flies up into the air.
P'tod looks up, alerted, perhaps, by some sixth sense to Alaida's approach. He greets her with a steely glare, and 
when she's near enough, asks her in a voice low enough that she'd have to strain to hear it over all the hubbub, 
"Alaida. Were you or Devath scored?"
Above you, Lacroith climbs higher toward the sky, his wings powerfully beating the air as he gains altitude.
A'zric nods to Reye, "I'll stay in the infirmary and keep an eye on the wings."
Alaida quickly salutes with her redwort dyed hand then shakes her head to P'tod. "No, Sir. We were not. "
"Thanks, Yaz." Reye seems as exhausted now as the riders who flew fall, though she holds her shoulders straight as 
she surveys the dragons about. "We didn't miss any, did we? No -- Omfaleth would've alerted me. Well -- we're going 
to turn in. Have Gelth tell Omfaleth if you need anything, or a rest, will you?"
P'tod nods slowly, his lips pressing together as a storm seems to build in his expression. "You weren't," he 
repeats in that same quiet voice. "Well, Alaida, you're sharding lucky. D'you hear me?" He plants both hands on his 
hips. "Don't you ever, ever, ever let me catch you or Devath disobeying a direct order from your leaders again. Not 
in Threadfall, not ever."
A'zric nods to Reye, "You and Om get your rest, you've got hatchlings to think of."
Salva leans against Uriketh, murmuring softly to her lifemate as they head towards the barracks.
Reye eyes her bulky lifemate askance, one brow arching wryly. "Well. Not yet, at any rate. But soon, I think." 
Fingers raise in a farewell, and she makes her way across the bowl, while Omfaleth glides gently above.
Alaida raises an eyebrow as if surprised at P'tod's accusations. "Sir, it wasn't luck. It was because of our 
training and I didn't disobey any orders that I am aware of. Perhaps you could review on what these are, Sir? " she 
asks politely yet still looking tired.
Turning a bit at the waist, Langley squints to keep an eye on Alaida's reception with P'tod. "I hope he's not 
yelling at her," she mutters, leaning against the table for a moment's leisure as people and dragons start clearing 
out.
Uriketh lumbers off into the Weyrling Barracks.
A'zric heads off to the infirmary to hover and fuss.
Alaida shifts herself, standing a bit more stiffly as if preparing P'tod's words or hand to come lashing down at 
her. She keeps her eyes on him firmly, waiting.
A'zric travels southeast towards the center of the bowl.
You are no longer quiet on isw.
Kyrola gives Sonya a sympathetic look. "He's around here somewhere... and I don't think any of us could begrudge 
you some company." The comment is quite innocent, although easy to misconstrue.
Salva follows Uriketh into the barracks, ducking out again once her dragon is settled. She comes to stand by 
Langley, peering curiously over at P'tod and Alaida. "That doesn't look good."
Sonya manages a tired smile for Kyrola. "I guess not. I'll be fine."
Langley looks sideways at Salva, nodding almost gravely over the situation as she folds her arms over her chest 
carefully. "No, it doesn't. I can't wait till we finish training." The last comment is a dry mutter before she 
adds, "I could see some of it from the ground. You guys did well."
Rhianwen travels southeast towards the center of the bowl.
"Semeth told Devath to duck that patch that fell nearly on top of her," P'tod reminds Alaida with a dark scowl. 
"Don't you remember? The queen's wing could have gotten it. It was one patch of Thread. One mistake, Alaida. One 
mistake, and you never sear another strand of it again."
Salva shakes her head, tears filling her eyes again. "I can't believe...S'bass..." She chokes on her words and 
takes a moment to compose herself. "We could have done better. Have you seen Alsa around? She's not my favorite 
person, but I thought I'd see how she was."
"Let's not talk about S'bass," says Langley promptly, setting her chin and leaning further against the table till 
she's nearly sitting atop it. "I think she took off to the barracks when were dismissed. Alsa, I mean. She looked 
pretty beat." Glancing around the lingering parties in the bowl, she concludes with half of a grin, "Kind of like 
the rest of us. You stink, Salva."
Alaida tenses a bit more and doesn't dare shift her eyes to look over at the resting Devath. She nods. "I remember, 
Sir, but Devath and I felt we could get it and we did, Sir, if you remember that she did char it quite nicely. And, 
Sir, meaning no disrespect but we threaten our lives everyday up there. Any mistake could make any... of us.. " 
then she pauses at the thought of S'bass. She takes a deep breath before contiuing ".. and mistake could do that. 
Both Devath and I felt we could get it and we did, Sir. It was because of our training that we could do that. "
Salva actually laughs at that. "Well, you aren't exactly a bed of roses yourself." she teases. "I'm for the baths, 
I'll talk to Alsa later." She heads off across the bowl, glancing back at Alaida and P'tod.
Kyrola flicks her glance over to where she spies Alaida and P'tod conversing, and she shakes her head. She makes 
her way from Sonya's side back to Zaith, once more checking over her dragon just in case she missed anything 
earlier.
Langley leans down and sniffs herself briefly, then wrinkles up her nose in recoil. "I wonder how you air out 
leathers," she muses, but doesn't take off just yet. No, she's still watching the play between P'tod and Alaida, 
keenly but without interruption; no doubt biting her tongue.
"You did," P'tod agrees, still in that quiet voice. "You've been trained well. But it's not finished, yet. Part of 
your training, the one thing that you've got to get into your head-- and Devath's-- is that when your wingleader or 
second gives an order, you obey. Like /that/!" He brings his hands together with a smack. "There could have been 
any number of reasons we told you to duck. There could have been Thread coming in from behind you, where you 
couldn't see. There could have been another dragon who'd strayed from the formation and was about to singe your 
behind. As it happens, you flaming the thread instead of ducking it didn't make a whole lot of difference, either 
to you or to the rest of the wing. But that's because you were /lucky/. You can't count on being that lucky next 
time you decide not to follow the order you were just given because you have a better idea. Do you understand me, 
Alaida? Am I wasting my breath, here?"
Sonya's attention slowly drifts over, overhearing bits and pieces of the conversation between Alaida and P'tod.
Langley's bright eyes narrow briefly at the clap, her expression darkening as it slips across toward the sleeping 
Ardenth, flickering across Kyrola and Zaith in the process. "Hey. You guys look good up there," she contributes 
voluntarily.
Kyrola blinks and sort of stares at Langley. "Erm, thanks," she says in the voice of the totally surprised. "You 
guys were good, too," she returns, a bit flustered.
Alaida tenses a bit more, then nods tersely. "I understand, Sir and no you aren't. " She suddenly hisses and for 
the first time, there's anger. "Sir, one clump, it doesn't matter which one it is, every single clump charred means 
all the difference! Just because it didn't save S'bass and his dragon, or Sonya getting hurt, or Ardenth getting 
scored, but it /still/ matters! I will follows orders, but I believe with every ounce of my being that every piece 
of thread charred means all the difference between Pern living or dying! AND if I had to do it again, I would have 
because of that belief! " despite her words, there is still respect there as if that hatred for thread just gets 
her boiling. Instantly, Devath raises her head and trumpets to add in her two marks to her lifemate's words.
Zaith lifts her head and warbles something soothing and calming toward Devath.
Langley rolls her eyes so they land on Kyrola entirely, levelling this sort of uh-huh look on the goldrider. "Erm, 
thanks," she echoes. Not flustered, just unauthentic. "When Alaida's, uhm, done over there, I was considering - " 
She stops, raising a brow at the other greenrider's line of defense. "She's going too far. I mean, even *I* have to 
agree with P'tod on this one."
Kyrola just shakes her head some more. "This is far different from when we first impressed, and she was always mad 
because I'd be given rank... P'tod earned his rank, and yet she still acts like she knows better. It's going to get 
her killed." With a shrug, she dismisses the problem.
P'tod's eyes flash with anger, but he doesn't raise his voice; he waits, calming himself, before speaking again. 
"If you'd disobey a direct order again, then you /haven't/ understood me," he says. "Every clump of thread 
charred-- yes, but YOU are not individually responsible for every clump of thread. You, and Devath, are responsible 
for obeying the orders given you. No more, and no less." He raises lifts a hand to forestall any protest that may 
be forthcoming. "None of us are at our best tonight. We'll discuss this further at another time. You and Devath are 
grounded for a sevenday, and you'll see me or Sonya first thing tomorrow morning."
Sonya starts, anger flashing across her face as she hears Alaida's response clearly. She takes one step out but 
stops, letting P'tod handle it untill help is asked for.,
"Rank can go Between for all I care," says Langley tartly. "She's out of line now," and she shakes her head 
resignedly, looking at Alaida for a moment and then ending the glance by watching Ardenth in relative silence.
Alaida tenses, trembling even as she clentches her hands. She takes a deep breath to quickly get herself in control 
then curtly nods. "Yes, Sir. " is all she says.
Kyrola shrugs one of her shoulders, then does it again to ease a stiff muscle. "I don't think it's rank that's the 
problem, really," she notes musingly to Langley. "It's authority in general."
"Dismissed," P'tod says curtly, and turns his back on Alaida, leaning once more against Semeth's side. Slowly, the 
brown stirs and starts to uncurl himself.
Langley says tartly, "Yeah, well. She'll either learn or she'll get nailed. And *then* she'll learn, that's for 
sure." She straightens briskly from where she'd been leaning against the table and halfway trots to where P'tod and 
Alaida had been talking not so long ago.
Alaida salutes sharply even as P'tod turns then takes a deep breath. She doesn't look at anyone as she quickly 
heads off toward the center bowl.
Alaida instantly pauses, then turns, as if changing her mind and turns to head toward the corral.
Alaida opens the gate and walks into the pens, closing the gate behind her.
In the corrals, Alaida crosses the corral and opens the gates on the west side, and walks out to the plateau, 
closing the gate behind her.
Sonya sighs and stands straight. Pryth leaps up to head towards the beaches, but Sonya simply heads across the 
bowl.
Pryth flies up into the air.
Sonya walks into the huge opening of the Weyrling Barracks.
Langley wears a quizzical expression for a moment, her brows drawing together as she considers things for a few 
minutes. "I think - " She stops, tugging her lower lip between her fingers. "I'm gonna go check on Alaida," she 
says to no one in particular and jogs off after the other greenrider.
You open the gate and walk into the pens, remembering to close the gate behind you.