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"Alright there big guy here we go!! We're full of stone and ready for the fire, there's a patch right now!!" K'njin yelled pointing.

I see it mine and I flame! Azuleth said and belched forth a great flame which sizzled the thread turning it to ashes. They then circled round to have another go.

Remia held her breath as she watched the skies ahead of where the weyrlings were restlessly waiting in the reserves area behind the main threadfall. She could see, high above them, the wings of dragons soaring, waiting for the first of their ancient enemy to fall.

Then, there it was, beyond even the tiny forms of the far off dragons-- the silvery smudge that meant thread. She could feel Trith tense beneath her, and she turned her attention away momentarily to reassure her dragon.

Trith hissed once, but aside from a shuffling of her wings, she didn't move.

They rise, they meet it! she informed her rider, and Remia bit her lip, worrying about the injuries that were almost a foregone conclusion. She could see the forms above blink out now and again, appearing further ahead, as the dragons dodged between to avoid the deadly strands.

She checked the bags of firestone attached to the riding straps again, though she knew they were there and secured. The riders above would be needing replenishments, and it would be up to all of them, the weyrlings, to give them the firestone they needed.

She was ready, and Trith was ready. They would perform their duties, and this threadfall would meet its end. Remia took a deep breath, and waited.

N'tren stayed with the other weyrlings of the new wing. He tossed bags of firestone as the fighting riders swooped down low to renew their dragons' flames. Already, he had a sweat worked up and his muscles ached but the fall was far from over. Datiath was grumpy at being held back from flaming and it took all of N'tren's concentration to keep him appeased.

I am bronze. I should fly with Thread is in the sky. The dragon muttered.

I am sorry my turns hold us back but none can fly in the fighting wings until they are sixteen turns. Concentrate on getting firestone to our friends faster. N'tren replied in a terse voice.

He did a sweep and saw several senior riders he knew taking on clumps of Thread. The small queen's wing was handling whatever made it through. N'tren's stomach pitted as he watched blues and greens swoop and dive to char Pern's oldest enemy.

Soon, N'tren thought. Let it all be over soon. And let Caleten be safe.

"HEY YOU!" K'njin yelled to G'dor. "Pay attention!" Just then Azuleth trumpeted a warning at one of the other rider's dragons just as another clump came down. The large blue then winked between and reappeared a human length away from where the clump almost had them.

That was too close, mine, you should be paying attention too and not worry about the others. If they get scored it is the rider's fault. Azuleth said belching forth flames at the clump.

"We have to look out for each other, mine." K'njin replied. That is what a rider does.

G'dor wishes to make a bet about dinner. Based on who takes the most score from thread....Jaereth pointed out, his eyes flashing with a burst of anger, respecting the agony of a thread burn.

G'dors showing off. Ignore him. And tell him he can ask the thread he -missess- to take him to dinner. R'ael fumed.
He'd originaly been fairly certain he would, like the younger riders, be only handing out stone, but he'd already noted other riders his and G'dors age on the wing, and with Jaereth freshly supplyed with stone, he was already making his own way.

He had a proud dragon in Jaereth, but not a foolish one, though the blue was taking full advantage of his speed in the air, insinerating a clump of thread as they swept upward to join some of the other smaller, faster dragons.
He was nervous and it showed in his white knuckled grip, though he was doing his best to emulate the older, more experienced riders.

We're going to need more stone soon, Azuleth... K'njin said as he fed his great blue a good size chunck of firestone.

We can hold out mine. Said the blue, he then sent forth another blast of intense flame which incinigrated a rather large clump of thread.

I can't take that chance, Azuleth... K'njin said firmly. Signal one of the youths for more firestone.

Azuleth then bellowed out the request for more firestone.

The actuall amount of 'chatter' between the dragons surprised him a bit, though it wasn't the foremost thing on his mind, just a small corner of startled interest off to one side. Somehow he'd always assumed it to be a little...quieter, though for him the most 'internal' noise was the sound of Jaereth telling him what was going on, as the blue turned another clump of thread into a burning knot.
They were absoloutely disgusting to look at, and burning made the entire afair feel a little cleaner in regards to the writhing, deadly silvery things. Even had he been totaly ignorant of thread, he thought they would still have looked terribly, enormously -wrong-.
They are. Jaereth noted, wheeling around to seek more falling 'prey'. There is nothing more wrong that I know of.