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Khunoth had neither been sleeping, nor sunning, nor flying. Some might say he was waiting, but when asked about his restlessness, Khunoth would only rumble irritably and avoid responding. Khunoth, after all, was not one to wait on females. Or take interest in females unless they were of a certain type. Older females, for instance, or those select younger Greens that caught his short attention with flamboyant displays of flirtation. Yes, that was his usual taste. Pliable females who were only too happy to encourage his ego and reaffirm how very strong and capable he was.

Those other ones, the self fashioned 'strong' females, they were to be avoided at all costs. Unless they were of a certain age where wisdom would temper their acid tongues, he saw them as beneath him. He wasn't going to sit around waiting on even those of his 'type' though.

And he certainly would not even consider waiting on wher-like greens with more attitude then a pit of hungry tunnelsnakes and second class taste in Wherry.

Certainly. NOT.

Yet, something was tingling deep in his belly. Similar to the fires that charred those thread-ropes in drill, this fire was instinctual. And damn hard to ignore. He'd even taken a snap at another male dragon who had wandered too close, but when Gh'lan asked him what was wrong... he wasn't sure what had set him off. The blue, after all, had just been flying by him on his way away from the Weyr. So Khunoth has just rumbled. Irritably. Watching and waiting for that something to happen that would allow him to release this pent up aggression.

Haanyath's grating shriek of indignation and sheer lust was both startling and expected, being both only because Khunoth never had been good at listening to his instincts ahead of time... yet being more then willing to know his belly had been right after the fact. The challenge of that most furious of greens was an irresistible allure to the brown who considered himself better then everyone. There was none other like her, and despite her abrasive nature, second class taste in wherries, and despicable attitude, even Khunoth would admit that she was a fine green. Fitting into neither of the categories he had set up as Standards. She was only Haanyath, better then the rest, but... not quite as good as HIM. Obviously.

He would dominate her then, answering her call in the only way his rising primordial self knew how. She could blood if she wanted, but he was Khunoth! He would answer her and follow her into the sky unaided to prove himself!


The brown dragon's bugle and subsequent launch from their ledge caught his rider completely off guard. It had been a few candlemarks since the last time Gh'lan had queried the brown about his restlessness, and he had appeared to have settled a little. Now, however, Gh'lan was drawn to the stark reality that his Khunoth, his demanding and fiercely independent Khunoth, was thinking and behaving in a way that was most unsettling. Disturbing, even.

For starters, his thoughts were completely focused on Haanyath. The images and emotions racing through the bond they shared were both dangerously seductive, and revolting to the young man who had never given much thought to those parts of a female. He'd been curious, most every boy was! Yet he'd never given the curiosity the chance to experiment and learn, keeping those thoughts and feelings abstract was the best way to avoid the embarrassment of failing, and too remain impartial.

As an observer, rather then a participant.

Come to think of it, couldn't he do that now? Khunoth would chase, his pride demanded it, but Gh'lan could just retreat to the cheerfully oblivious facade he'd designed to keep himself away from disturbing situations. It had worked on those girls in the Holds flawlessly, and even on his old friends and the other Smith apprentices. A well timed smile and a rolling shrug... and he'd be out of here!

Khunoth could have his fun, he'd just... observe. Stay out of it....


Well, that was the plan anyway, until the vortex of emotions and thoughts that was a determined Brown on the wing swirled down and engulfed him. The unexpected force of it swallowed him without warning or a smooth transition. He wasn't Gh'lan, he was more then that feeble bodied human. He was his dragon now, fierce and free from the frailty of a body bound to the ground.

Well wasn't this a surprise.

The tall man had been leaning back in his chair, tucked in a corner of the dining hall after dinner when the he felt Niyath stir. The bronze dragon had been dozing on the ledge of his weyr, content, when his easy going attitude changed. (And quite drastically too!) Pushing himself out of his chair, the laid back bronze rider reached out to his beloved, attempting to inquire what roused the dragon so. . .

But such contact only managed to unleash the lust that drove through his dragon. A green was on the rise, and Niyath was going to give chase. Unlike some of the frisky dragons of Ista, his bronze wasn't the most active of participants. But every now and then a pretty green caught his eye that caused him to do away with his lethargic nature and attempt to give chase.

Today was one of those days. . .

So who is it this time. . . ? He inquired, curious. Feeling your oats again, are you you oaf? T'loa teased, already noticing a few other riders in a similar 'zombified' state. Now, all they had to do was find the rider of the rising green and see what came of the flight. Hopefully, said rider was actually a woman this time around. . . . It was always a little awkward (for T'loa, at any rate) to wake up next to another man!

Niyath was perched upon his ledge, ready and waiting. His pale tail tip swished lightly back and forth, his muscles tense as he watched the green blood her kills. Strange, as many greens didn't bother with such a thing, but it endeared him to the female all the more. She was different, fiesty. . . . he liked that.

Haanyath will be mine. He stated clearly to his rider, eyes whirling a vibrant purple as he watched and waited. No, he wasn't going to sing her a lullaby or croon and caw at her; he wouldn't spout of his devotion like some babbling males. . . he was Niyath - he didn't have to do such things. His own prowress and skill would prove all the other males unworthy. . .

Or so that was his intention.

As the green bellowed her ferocity and took to the air, a bloody mess of green beauty, Niyath couldn't help but shriek back his reply. He would chase, and let all of Ista know such a thing! Pushing himself off his weyr ledge, the bronze knew he would be unable to catch her right away. . . but give the lady a chance to show off, to out maneuver them all, and in her weariness at the end only THEN would he snatch her in to his grasp.

Let the other browns, blues, and bronzes try. . . .

He would make sure he came out a winner. Haanyath was far too pretty and fierce to be tamed by any other.

((So Niyath gets a mini-ego during flights. x3 Good to know!))

Khunoth had answered, raising his voice with the others as they gave chase. Now, though, now he fell silent. Throughout Haanyath's maneuvering he strove to find that one pocket of rising air that would rocket him higher. He knew the Bowl of Ista had several, and the mountains surrounding also contained their own mini streams of super heated thermals. Catching Haanyath would be more then merely out-flying her, as Khunoth had more respect for her agility and speed then that. He would have to outwit her, land upon her at the moment she least expected it.

Watching her was easier then he expected though, as her glowing eyes illuminated even the surrounding clouds with their feral fury. Yesss, those eyes were perhaps one of his favorite parts of her, as they were quite distinct. Other greens may be prettier, and the gold dragons may be preferential overall, but none of the females he had ever once considered courting had eyes quite like Haanyath's. How many times had she taunted him with her words and her eyes? Daring him to best her? Urging him to prove to HER that he was something?

Abruptly he felt the shift in the air currents around him, noted with a crow of delight the rogue gush of hot air that was rocketing him up, high above the cloud layer. Before he'd allowed himself to be among the middle of the pack of chasing males, then he'd dropped back to look for that thermal. Now he spread his long wings to slide through the great jet-streams of the higher air, following the progress of the green and her entourage as a falcon stalks a family of pheasants. He would wait for that opportune moment, perhaps right after another male failed in the first attempt to grasp Haanyath to him.

Since Khunoth was quite certain that Haanyath would not be tamed by the first attempt.