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As the fight against the thread continued, Kynigoth swayed a little, uneasy as her eyes had been blasted with a powerful image. Looking to the brown she curled back her lips and nodded with a powerful bob of her head, <Agreed.> She grimaced as she followed after Jamarin who'd all but protectively shoved Kalendol to safety. She had to agree with his tactics of course.

Kalendol meanwhile, didn't mind the boy's pushiness, in fact, she found it comforting and sank a little against him unconsciously as she was moved faster towards the building where there would be shelter. Once safely inside she closed the door with her foot and looked at the other two weyrlings present. Jamarin and his brother Jikkiri. Of course their dragons as well. She sighed softly and bit the inside of her cheek, "When... will it be over?" She asked hesitantly, moving to lay her hand on Kynigoth's shoulder.

The pale green, slightly smaller then the brown but about the same size as the blue, blinked her whirling eyes and huffed audibly as she reached her neck to nudge Antibonth, <Antibonth? Are you well?> She asked, a concerned feeling radiating with her question. She hoped he wasn't too frightened, though she knew if he was it would be for His, afterall, he seemed overly protective at times.

Poecileth coiled away from the thread, burning it before the score could dig into her side.

murmured Rotatonth. Businesslike, professionally, she flamed the thread, and equally so she took a hit and blinked out, reappearing later.

she said, her voice clipped,

Poecileth flamed further thread. Malta assessed the remainder of the fall. Not too bad now - they had taken care of most of it.

commented Poecileth, looking up at the leading edge of the wave.

Thread: 50

The young six month old dragonet blinked her faceted eyes and looked carefully at her brother, a sympathetic murmur forcing it's way from her mind into that of her brother's. <I am afraid too, my brother. Though, this is what we were designed for. Fighting. It is our purpose to protect the young of this species... but...> The dragonet let her sentence slow and she grumbled uncertainly as she stared towards Langoneth allowing her voice to now be heard by all the dragonets and her rider, <Is this all we are destined for? To feel this sense of urgency and to be bred to fly and fight against something we don't fully comprehend. What secrets lie in the Thread? Do they have thoughts? Why do they desire to feast on our world, everything within their path. Is their burn all we are meant to feel?> Kynigoth sighed in sadness and shook her head in misery.

Kalendol leaned closer to Jamarin allowing the contact to last simply for fear of it breaking and disrupting the easy calm he produced within her. "I'm scared... I didn't realize how terrifying this thread was. Sure, I saw it last time, but... da kept me inside, I didn't know how it could hurt." She remembered the twinkling of the dragons as they breathed their flames and then twisted into the Between in a bold effort to avoid death. Some never returned into appearance and only now did Kalendol's eyes begin to fill with tears. "Jamarin... I don't want to disappear." She whispered so only he could hear as tears began to roll down her cheeks. Kalendol was more sensitive then she let on, always so bold and vibrant, her new found fear made her almost detest becoming a rider. Almost. But not quite.

Kynigoth, suddenly aware of her rider's concerns chuffed towards her and looked to her clutchmates before rushing to her rider's other side and nuzzling her gently. <Mine...> She nudged privately, her tongue flicking out to touch her rider's hand in consolation. <We won't disappear. I will never let that happen.> The young dragonet announced to her rider, a concerned flash entering her golden eyes. Kalendol looked down with a sniff, touching her dragon's smooth hide and biting her cheek hard. Some rider I'll make. Scared of thread.

Rotatonth dodged a clump of thread, neatly flaming it before it passed beyond her.







Z'radi smirked, despite her pain and the lack of proper straps.

Langoneth turned his huge head to his clutchmate, eyes ablaze with disgust and disdain. The stupid nosy green thought too much.

An image, obviously invented, came into Atibonth and Kynigoth's heads. An image of fire and thread, and of thread doing as thread did... eating. Lagoneth, of course, had never seen what it could do, but he had heard about it and what it had done.

Bodies, being slowly devoured by an unseen force, first flesh, then blood, then even bone, until nothing more remained. Lagoneth leered, baring his fangs, As he imagined them all, visibly, dying, horribly. As he and his rider flew clear, carving a blazing trail through silver evil....

“Langoneth, that's enough.” said Jikkiri, visibly disturbed himself. Langoneth snorted and returned to his vigil at the door, much like a dog waiting for its master to feed it. He wanted to fly...

“Sorry.” Jikki said to the others, “I... sorry.” he gave his brother a look and went to soothe his angry dragon. “He's a little excited.”


Atibonth shuddered under his brother's terrible imagery. he murmured, leaning against his rider, his eyes becoming more grey than yellow as he cringed away. He closed his eyes, sinking to the ground to rest. The young blue felt shaky and tired, the struggle between his fear and his need to fly and fight Thread exhausting. It was not a battle of reason, but of instinct and terror, and thus not his thing. Not at all.

Jamarin was sure that what he was supposed to feel was not cowardice. Fighting thread was just work, and he knew that when the time came, he'd be fighting it up there on Atibonth, whether Ati wanted it or not. Duty had nothing to do with it – a job simply needed to be done. Or would. And actually that job paid pretty well and was rewarding. Good hard work. Dangerous work. Of course, he couldn't do that now. Atibonth was too young, and they needed to be trained to throw fire like those dragons up there. Plus, he had another job to do.

He held Kalendol closer. He was starting to think of her – over the course of their dates – as 'his' girl, and a guy had to help out his girl when she wasn't feeling good, right? “It be bad, tha'ts for sure.” he said softly. He needed her close – he was scared too. “It won't get us in here, though. Thread can't get through stone, that's what it says in the songs anyway, and those dragons up there'll handle it.” He sounded more confident than he was, but what else could he be? “You won't be disappearing anytime soon.” he said protectively, if a little gruffly, “Not anytime.”