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Noted Malta, She fed her dragon more firestone.

Poecileth took a moment to assess the condition of her wingmates and their riders, noting who was injured and who was not. she said, after relaying her list to Malta.

Or, worse, shrink.

Poecileth stopped and blinked as a little gold shape, dripping ichor from its injuries, flew up past her side. the dragon exclaimed,

Malta said, directing her dragon to flame a clump that would have threatened the tired little flit,

Poecileth commented, the barrel-bodied green flew up over the gold flit, her fanned wings, hopefully, sheltering her from Thread. she said to the Flitter,

Malta, looking up, blanched as a growing tangle of Thread drifted towards them on the unpredictable winds of the sky. she shouted, as a stray gust blew it close...

Thread: 29

Atibonth cuddled his sister, hiding his head beneath her wing. he said, his eyes remaining tightly shut. he murmured slightly, his eyes cracking open.

What on Pern? Jamarin gave the dragons a funny look. What strange thoughts was Kalendol's annoying dragon putting in Atibonth's head? He turned his attention back to Kalendol, rubbing her gently. ”Yeah. We'll ride together. Same wing, everything.” he reassured, stroking her hair, ”It'll be fine.”


Why couldn't that green leave him alone?! Frustrated by not being able to fight thread and by his confines – essentially a stone cage, Lagoneth tensed, ready to rear, turn, and roar at Kynigoth for her endless... ENDLESS... impudence. His eyes blazed: he wanted to tear her limb from limb, rip her to shreds, make her scream...

Jikkiri could feel this rising within his bondmate, and his heart raced. he put a hand, pushing with gentle pressure against his beast's side.

Langoneth stilled, his muscles still tensed as he regarded his bondmate with his blazing eyes. He wanted to snap at him but... this was Jikkiri. His Jikkiri. he asked, frustrated,



Langoneth growled.

Jikkiri said, hugging his dragon,

A flicker of yellow, then blue. Langoneth relaxed slightly, though Kynigoth was given an acidic look of hatered.

The beast nuzzled his Jikkiri. The forest around them smelled of pine and other ascerbic and natural scents. Calming. Happy. Langoneth would try for his Jikkiri.
He began to pace, moving as far away as possible from Kynigoth, refusing to respond to her. He wanted to be alone. He wanted no one else, only Jikkiri. Jikki was the one that brought people in, and he tolerated it because it was Jikkiri.

Jikkiri, meanwhile, was hungry. Watched by his dragon, he went into the kitchens and came out with a few meatrolls. “Are you all hungry?” he called to his brother and... well, it was undeniable now, his brother's girlfriend.

rumbled Langoneth.

“I'll get you something too, love.” reassured Jikkiri. Food was important. “Atibonth? Kynigoth? You too?”

Langoneth didn't think he would have to guard Jikkiri's mind from their voices, of course. They would never bespeak his rider, never. He wished his rider would never bespeak them, but then Jikkiri wouldn't be Jikkiri, and that would be terrible. So he stood, stiffly and disapprovingly.

Awkward enough that, as expected, she missed a clump coming at her. She shrieked as it's devouring tendrils dug into her, and instinctively betweened to shake it off, finding herself no longer above the firelizard. She sought out its gold shape and flamed a clump of thread falling towards it, flinching inwardly at the pain she felt.

But dragons were built to be hardy, literally designed to handle Thread's fall. She knew she would endure. She would survive.

She betweened right as it hit her, dragging it into between's endless cold and out, dead and crumbling. It had been a close call, indeed, and as Rotatonth chewed her firestone, she mused on that fact.

Kynigoth looked to Atibonth and blinked her eyes, <Do you honestly believe a less then sentient being could attack a dragon and kill it?> She asked him, <The way that the Thread moves, the way it falls, so silently, it is so.... life like. The way it burns the hide and forces our ichor to spill. How can you tell me-- did he just say food?> The dragonet halted her words to glance towards Langoneth and towards Jikkiri.

Catching Langoneth's glare she grumbled angrily. What a fool that dragon. Blinking she huffed and swung her head towards Kalendol, <I desire food as well. Tell the boy, his beasty clearly wants to pick a fight.> She huffed and set her head down on her paws, however, not before sending a set of teeth gnashing in Langoneth's direction.


Kalendol smiled up at Jamarin happy he wanted to be in the same wing as her too. But when Jikkiri and Kynigoth spoke to her she jumped a little, "Oh right, food. That sounds lovely, Jikkiri. Kynigoth approves." She laughed a little, her cheeks burning bright with embarrassment, she wondered what Jikkiri thought, seeing her this close to his brother. More privately she whispered, "I can think of nothing I'd like more, Jamarin."

Perhaps the pair should not have been so inspired! The fall was ending, and Thread apparently wanted to go out with a bang. It fell thickly now, like noodle soup. Though she had flamed most of what fell towards her, her side felt a missed clump's inevitable sting and she betweened.

Poecileth felt she could keep going. Indeed, she knew she had to. But she reeled from the pain and she needed... well... she needed a rest. And to follow her own advice. She fell to a lower, safer part of the wing, gliding along as she relegated herself to 'cleanup duty' as her head reeled. If she landed, she knew she was not going back in the air anytime soon, and she needed to make sure...

Langoneth sent the gnashing teeth right back at Kynigoth, except he made sure his were bigger and covered with ichor.

Jikkiri was happy for Jamarin, to be honest. He'd thought his brother would always be a grumpy a**, and he knew Jamarin was secretly lonely. Very secretly.

”Allright, seems like a popular opinion!” he said with a big grin, ”How about I get that for you... Love? With me?”

Langoneth didn't want to take his eyes off them for a moment – who knew what they would do to his Jikkiri?



That settled things nicely. With a final ascerbic look in Kynigoth and Atibonth's direction, Langoneth stomped off after his rider, the large weyrling ducking as he managed – just barely – to fit partway into the kitchen.

Jikkiri, to his amusement as he took his sweet time collecting the required food, knew full well he was giving his brother some alone-ish time.

said Atibonth. He raised his head at the mention of food, but said nothing, instead watching Langoneth and his rider with pale, whirling eyes. He was glad that his sister was distracted now. He really, really, really did not want to talk about Thread. Or think about Thread. He would have to fight it, but... not today.

”Dunno.” Jamarin said. He managed a small, crude sort of smile. ”I'm a real hardass, might not be so pleasant.” he quipped, ”But I won't let nothin' happen to you.” he rested his head against hers and, almost without realizing it, reached for her hand. ”That, I'm promisin'.”