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Date Posted: 18:44:03 02/22/05 Tue
Author: T'bel and Quilth
Subject: ...am I yet alive?
In reply to: Wessae~Shrineth 's message, "Okay....easy now..." on 23:47:43 02/18/05 Fri

(OOC: Two things. First, an apology for my lack of italics in mental speaking and the word between... I replaced italics with ~ marks because Voy's being a jerk. Secondly, since Quereth is no longer around, how does the flight begin? Anywho.. thankye, and good luck to everyone.)

Many months had passed since the bronzerider had been disturbed from his human solitary existance, the lengthy shores of New Isle his dusty Weyr as the singular being that remained in his soul hunted along their rocky cliffs. A sturdy wooden shack rested a few meters back from one of the sea-sprayed peaks; a simple shelter built by blistered hands, it held little more then a ragged blanket and a rusted metallic table, off set by well-cared for wher-hide gear delicately draped over a woven chair and a weathered but well-tuned instrument laying on the table. It stood without any unnecessary decoration, save for the deep imprint in the earth of a draconic sleeping position, inversely curled about the entire structure.

The house seemed to creak once against the wind as the rider's form appeared from one side of the cliff, a small handwoven net bearing the form of some kind of fish. The rider hung the catch off of one protruding piece of wood, allowing both sides of the small seine to latch into a carved nitch. A rough hand rubbed once against its partner before interlinking and pulling forward into a stretch, the muscles up and down the shirtless torso straining briefly before falling back into a more comfortable position.

T'bel turned and walked purposefully towards the forestline, eyes scanning the ground beneath the closest trees in search of fallen branches.

'~Quilth? I'm about to begin preparing the fire. How's your hunting?~'

~I'm full.~

'~Glad to hear it.~'

~What did you catch?~

'~A striped fish.~'

~I consumed a few of those.~

'~And by few you mean twenty?~'

~Close enough.~

T'bel laughed quietly as he pulled more of the dried timber into his arms. The storm a few days prior had knocked a fair bit down, so he had no difficulty finding enough within a matter of minutes.

Striding back to the beach he gave a brief pause to lift his head to the sky at the recognition of his lifemate's descent. Green-grey eyes shimmered quietly as the bronze's wings flared outwards then tipped forward ever so slightly, beginning a well-angled downwards swoop towards the beach. T'bel watched as the dragon adjusted his position carefully, his left pinion dipping once to correct his advance before both wings flipped lightly backwards, a few powerful backwings that sent the shack creaking with greater nervousness then before lowering him completely to the ground. T'bel ran forward with the rare smile awarded only to his dragon, dropping his load by the cloth entrance and flinging his arms around the bronze's massive lowered snout with no restraint.

A very gentle nudge sent T'bel tumbling backwards slightly as the dragon breathed out through his nostrils.

~You smell of fish.~

'~Just trying to match your breath, Quil.~'

The familiar rumble that was draconic laughter rumbled the terrain beneath T'bel's feet, until T'bel was laughing aloud with it on the ground, too momentarily happy to bother with keeping his balance.

The sudden break in the sound caught the bronzerider offguard, so accustomed to the patterned slow lull and final fade of his lifemate's mirth. Instinctively his face turned to the sky, eyes darting back and forth for the notorious silver fog that, despite it's recent absence, never left the mind of any rider.

He reached out to his dragon's mind, wordlessly questioning his lifemate for what pressing matter had disturbed him.

~The Weyr calls us back to her.~

'~Is it...threa--~'

~She rises.~

T'bel shook his touseled blonde head once; his lifemate didn't usually use metaphors, especially involving astrological entities that had long ago been removed!

'~The rising star is not red but gold.~'

T'bel was surprised into vocalization, his voice scratchy and words non-sensical from lack of use, "...Wessae?"

~Is Shrineth's rider. We must go.~

T'bel ripped down the cloth door to his shack as he raced inside, dinner forgotten in the process of flinging on his old shirt, boots, and wher-hide jacket. Within a few moments he was catapulting onto Quilth's back via a proffered leg-boost, limber hands immediately tightening leather riding straps that remained in good conndition. An instant later, and lithe bronze had propelled himself into the sky, wings pushing against the sky with surprising fervor, a startling energy lost in days of late since the urgency of duty had lessened.

~Do you see it?~

T'bel's response came in the form of a mental image of the Flight Air itself, and Quilth bugled once in memorie's recognition before all was silence as the cold dark of between pressed in. T'bel could neither see nor feel nothing around him, but inwardly the rise of some strange warmth felt ready to burst within his chest. He shivered at the contrast of temperatures, but could not feel the motion.

And then their destination surrounded them, and T'bel's teeth clenched against the fierce emotion that rushed through his body, no longer hindered by the dampening blackness of draconic travel. He could feel only the air that forced him backwards in his position as Quilth dove towards the ground, pinions flaring and tilting backwards for a far less graceful landing then he had achieved hours before. T'bel slid to the ground, but did not feel his feet touch as his lifemate drifted upwards slightly before pulling out of the sky, his position closer to the other bronzes in contest.

T'bel felt the brief soaring within, his arms seeming as broad and powerful as the pinions of his wonderous Quilth. His eyes saw for a moment the soaring Shrineth, glowing in beauty to match the stars he had lived beneath for so many lonely night. Quilth... had never wished to fly before, but now... he felt his dragon's longing in almost every corner of his being.

Except for that one ounce of his soul that had leapt upon remembrance of the woman he had once sung with at a Hatching Feast that seemed so long ago. It's emotion had risen upon his recitation of her name, even before Quilth's encompassing need had flowed through his veins.

His eyes were his own as he turned to watch the one being besides his dragon who had so affected him in such a long time. An almost incredulous gaze beheld her tense form, clenched fists at her side adding to his awe.

A twinge of fear ripped into his confidence. Quilth was admittedly small for a bronze, and though the epitome zenith of health, what if he couldn't keep up with the pack who soared after the golden perfection.

Mental words enveloped and crushed the human uncertainty, before completely devouring T'bel's senses.

~If she should not choose us it will not be by our tragic failure but for the good of her own being and clutch. Never the less, we must give our all.~

T'bel's agreement came in his clouded eyes, absolute oneness with the lifemate he loved.

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  • Some will learn, many do... -- R'shi, Tienth, 20:05:36 02/22/05 Tue
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