As enemies went, Thread was a good one. Thread didn't speak. Thread didn't think. It didn't have a family or moral justifications or the ability to ask for mercy. It just ate through anything it touched... and then it burned.
Thread burned well.
Ready to go? Rheth asked. He'd been much more compliant as a wingrider since their departure for Malvren; perhaps it was the presence of fellow blues and greens and browns amidst the command structure, or perhaps it was just because there were fewer egos around. (Rheth had never met an ego he didn't have an overpowering desire to skewer, which rarely ended well.) But the two of them were in fighting form as they took off into the sky.
Not that the first wave lasted long enough for them to show off. It was demolished rapidly and with extreme prejudice. Just went to show that Wherholder wings were just as efficient as their counterparts.
The first wave of Thread cleared as abruptly as it had come on and the ash of the last few silvery strands drifted away on the morning air. Queth called out to the wings.
At that moment those dragons who flew partial falls in Zephyr wings recieved a polite clearing of the throat in their heads. It was of course wingsecond Tickath.
As that section of the wing dropped out, the next shift rose up with Ornath. the green sent to her wing as she swooped into the space her clutchsib Tickath had left.
cam Queth's voice only moments later. And indeed there it was, plunging out of the sky only a few dragonlengths away from the dragons flying point in their wings.
Dragon and rider scanned the sky above attentively, and as soon as a few strands of Thread slipped through the formations above, Lia spotted it. With a thought she directed Mirath's attention towards the target. She the dragon wheeled towards it, Lia readied her flamethrower. A steady hand and a brief burst of flame swiftly reduced the Thread to char with a precision that did Lia proud. She was getting good at this!
[Malta and Poecileth HP: 35/35 Agility: +1 Zenith wing]
Malta took the breather with zeal, closing her eyes and trying to calm down for a moment while Poecileth took note of injured and wounded. She knew it wasn't over yet, and wished- oh she wished- it was.
Few injuries were good things.
And then the next wave came. Malta's eyes shot open and she stared, her heart racing several beats in seconds. OH SHARDS THERE WAS SO MUCH...
Said Poecileth, flying delicately back into position,
Malta shook herself out of the panic. she said. And she was for now. Even though the memories of all the horrible falls before played against her mind. She gave Poecileth her firestone.
[Malta and Poecileth HP: 32/35 Agility: +1 Zenith wing]
Her flame was, again, dainty, and Poecileth accidentally banked too far while dodging the unburned portions of thread. She bit back her pain and, as they had been taught, slipped between and popped back out.
said Malta shakily. She hated this. The injuries. The pain. The first one was always the worst. Would she ever be used to this?
said Poecileth softly, It was only a minor wound, she could still fly and she knew she would be fine. But she didn't like being wounded either.
[Z'radi and Rotatonth HP: 28/35 Ag: +2 Zephyr wing]
"Wohoo!" said Z'radi, cheering. Not that most would hear her over the wind, but still!
said Rotatonth sternly. said Z'radi, checking the bags.
she sent out, her voice clipped and professional. Rotatonth made no reply. They joined their wing in a lazy glide, Rota giving the new shift a mental nod of acknowledgement.
Finally Z'radi tapped Rota's hide. "Hey. There it is!" she handed her dragon firestone and watched the clumps begin to glide down as her dragon crunched the rock.
she said, releasing a gout of flame. It scorched some of the thread, though most of the flame missed it's target. Rota did not spend time with frustration however, ducking and weaving to avoid a particularly tricky clump as she got her breath back.
Zenoth's problem was that he was big. The bronze had impressive stamina - certainly more than enough to last him a Fall - and seemed to be perfectly content to take orders. But the problem was, no animal that large was maneuverable. And the top wing wasn't supposed to be maneuverable, necessarily - they were just there to sear the majority of Thread - but when it came to the Wherholds...things were different.
Sa'nil appreciated different, but expecting his bronze to fly like a blue meant that they occasionally had disappointing, lackluster performances.
As Zenoth banked and seared a few stray streams of thread, Sa'nil sighed. He could see Valeska and Rheth a bit away from them, performing admirably, but he and Zenoth...sometimes Sa'nil just felt useless.
We're not useless, Zenoth remarked amiably, snorting and twisting his head back for more firestone. We're just less exciting, sometimes. But that's not a bad thing.
The sudden jolt of a strip of Thread cutting across the tip of Zenoth's exposed tail drew a squawk of protest from the bronze, who vanished momentarily between before reappearing, twisting this way and that in an attempt to assess the damage.
Sa'nil held grimly to the straps, leaning back and over one shoulder so he could get a good look at the damage.
Doesn't look too bad. Are you all right?
Nothing serious, Sa'nil. I'm fine. Zenoth's good humor was momentarily shaken, but then the bronze snorted, shaking his neck amiably. As long as we're not...
Emerath twisted in the air as she aimed for a large clump of thread. Her flame went true and Ja'kki silently cheered as hot ash swept over their bodies. It was always the biggest thrill when a move went off perfectly, especially as so many others around them couldn't seem to tell thread from their own tails.
Emerath squeeled only seconds later as the final flourish of her spin took her right into another patch of Thread. She was quick to be rid of it between, but not quick enough to save her hide from harm.
Ja'kkimine I'm sorry!
We're still flying. It's alright. Here. She reached forward for more firestone, feeding it to Emerath before adding. Next wave we can get you patched up. She stroked the long pale green neck reassuringly.
Zarth was getting better at this, V'ell sensed. Their first Threadfall had been... well, something of a disaster, with the two of them barely making it through to the end as V'ell pulled Zarth out before she could be severely injured. But this time the long and slender green felt full of confidence and raring to go. They'd been practicing their flying, both for maneuvers and for stamina.
The two of them rose with Zephyr Wing's dusk shift, fresh and prepared to fight on. Zarth aimed for a falling cluster, exhaling a long gout of flame confidently.
Thread remaining: 163/189
Tuatha De rolled 1 10-sided dice:
10Total: 10 (1-10)
Posted: Sat Sep 28, 2013 10:53 am
V'ell and Zarth // Damage Post Agility: +2 HP: 29/37
...Perhaps too confident.
As the two of them rose into position, a tired and faltering wingmate from the first shift stuttered a bit in her flight; what should have been a seamless transition with one green dropping and the other rising turned into a potential jam. Zarth swerved out too wide to give the other dragon room to maneuver, and in doing so dragged her wing through a clump of falling Thread.
Shrieking in surprise, she blinked between and then back rapidly. Bad luck, V'ell assured her. Just bad luck. We'll do better.
[Malta and Poecileth HP: 32/35 Agility: +1 Zenith wing]
<Emerath: How do you fare?> Poecileth called out to her wingmate, having noticed her quick between dodge.
Malta called, and Poecileth directed another dainty stream of fire at the small clump that had almost escaped her notice. Neither liked how close that could have been.
The first wave had vanished quickly enough, but the second came on its tail. Teshy held in gamely, though. There seemed to be no need to change the shifts after such a non-taxing first wave, and so she hung in, allowing her dragon to dive after whatever filtered from the wing above them.
Whatever dragons were overhead were doing a fair sight better than Teshy and Usturith at searing, though, and there was little enough where they were. Maybe we should break formation and...I dunno. Teshy mused silently, while her dragon snorted and took more 'stone.
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