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THREAD! Zelith bellowed mentally into Rinfala's head, adding a loud vocal bugle. Thread falls! We fight! The big brown was eager to go /between/, eager to face his ancient enemy.

Rinfala flinched at his mental volume. I'm right here, no need to shout love. She wanted to fight too, sure. It was what she was trained for, what she now existed for. Certainly it was what Zelith existed for. At the command to go /between/ the eager pair blinked into the chill nothingness, popping out above South Hold.

After what seemed like hours of doing mindless paperwork- or hidework, as it were, Farin had just settled into her bath when the booming creen of dragons began to vibrate the entire weyr. She didn’t need to question what it was- the large dragon who had once been placidly resting at the foot of the cavern opening suddenly was alighted, and bellowing. The sound of Moth hurt her ears, but spurned her quickly enough out of the bath.

“Why, always the bath?” She groaned miserably as she grabbed a fur and began to dry herself off.

Thread falls, love! The green echoed, and spread her olive wings. Around her head, Fleckin began to nervously dark around. Vera was nowhere to be seen. You must get out! We must go!

“Yes, yes-!” Farin barked, and stumbled half into a pair of boots. She realize she might have wanted to put her riding pants on first, and grunted as she removed them. “Hush now, you big green thing. Tell the weyrlings to be ready with the firestone and dragons.”

Moth snorted and seemed to calm, before relaying her rider’s message to the other dragons.

T'bell sat in the corner of his weyr paging through the records he'd brought back with him. Liliath's noises in her section were comforting and for a moment all was well.

Then the air changed, the noises in the greens' weyr changed. He lifted his head in question Just as Liliath shoved her head around the corner.

Thread falls! We fly!

For a moment everything froze, then he leaped into action. Liliath could barely hold still long enough for him to check and recheck her straps, her excitement was making her eyes whirl faster than he'd seen in a long time. His riding jacket was taking too long to put on. He managed it with a muffled curse, then a cheep caught his attention.

Zephyr.

He cursed again. The little blue hadn't been more than a couple dragonlengths from him ever in his life. Going between to these lengths would be hard. He gritten his teeth and sent for Flute, then scooped up the curious blue. In a moment he'd deposited him amongst the grumpy but awake whers and at Flute's arrival gave her very explicit instructions. He relayed them as best he could to Tabesk and Task, and then imprinted the importance, the sheer need for the blue to stay where he was, to not follow, and that he was safe. If he surrounded him with golds...

"Liliath, tell him." T'bell called as he left the whers' room and scrambled onto her back. Liliath snorted, but relayed the message.

He is confused. I can do no more. We fly! and with that she took off from her ledge. T'bell felt his stomach drop, but not at the flight. Nervousness and a certain measure of fear settled like a rock. The cold of between did nothing to help, and below them was South Hold.

He knew that Thread would come, it always did... Just like he knew that he was too young for a fighting wing. Shrugging into his flying gear as the cry went out across the weyr, N'tren was determined not to panic. Moving quickly, he got into the leathers that his family had gotten him for the Turn's End. They were worried-he didn't blame them. He was worried too.

Thread prepares to fall and you are slow! Hurry! Moth says we are to assemble and be ready with firestone.

N'tren nodded though no one could see him. Going out to the edge of his weyr, he saw Datiath's great bulk moving anxiously. I am coming! I am coming!

It took some effort for himto climb astride his beastie's back. His limbs trembled and his hands were shaking. Hopefully, his stomach would stop doing flips when they arrived.

And now, we go /between/. Dataith rumbled as he launched himself off the ledge.

He was already there, making sure his wing were prepared, using Tallith to relay messages between each dragon. The great brown was buzzing with excitement and nervous anticipation beneath him, his eyes rolling with a whirl of colours.

The prospect of fighting thread was both terrifying and amazing. This was what they lived for and they would fight their hearts out to protect Pern from the evil infestation that tried to be rid of them.

"Tallith, is C'tari and Feronamth here yet?"

Do not worry, they are here. They are ready. We are all ready.

"That is good." L'cian smiled, patting his great dragon's shoulder. "We will fly well today my brown."

Tallith chuffed and agreed, holding his position. This was the best part. Waiting, waiting and then with the signal up as one. Every dragon would take to the sky and then they would be gone. It was a spectacle that would knock every person on Pern speechless - even the dragonriders if they were not part of the grand picture.

Remia woke to a nervous tension in the air, and the sound of movement in the bowl outside. She blinked, for a moment confused as to what was going on.

Thread, mine! We must hurry! Others are already on their way, Trith told her.

The teen was shocked into full awakeness by the statement, and swiftly moved about, plulling on her riding leathers and stamping into her boots as she fairly flew on her own to the weyr ledge.

Oli chirped curiously, and Remia grimaced, halting suddenly. What could she do with him? He was smart, and unlike some others, was a fairly independant flit. But just in case... She stopped in the doorway and looked at him.

"Oli, go to Malathan. Stay by Malathan until I return." She sent him an image of the Orana's gold flit, and felt Trith doing the same. Under the double order, Oli chirped meekly. He stretched, and after spreading his wings, blinked between.

Then Remia was out on the ledge, and, with her stomach churning, she harnessed and mounted Trith.

We will join the others and be ready with firestone, Trith said, sounding far more assured than Remia was feeling. Her large green head swiveled around on her neck, and her eyes whirled quickly yellow. They were about to meet their ancient enemy for the first time, and Remia took heart in her strength.

"We will be fine, love. Everyone will be fine," Remia said, mainly for herself, looking into her dragon's eyes. After a deep breath, she gave Trith the signal to head out. The green dropped off the ledge, pumped her wings once, twice for height, then vanished between to reappear over South Hold, spiraling down to land with the other Weyrlings.

T'bell sat still and alert atop of his dragon waiting, watching, and waiting. It seemed to take forever before the first tsilvery clump fell from above, but it was no more than a half mark. He felt his stomach jump and his pulse quicken, and Liliath reached back expectantly for her firestone. Her eyes were whirling. SHe felt excited, eager, vicious. The feelings leeked into him and dispelled some of his fear. He was greatful for the training he had been through, it made him move automatically despite his thoughts.

He was among the highest formations, as a green, and Liliath's speed and agility soon came to their advantage as the thread slithered to them in the air. He felt her slip and dodge, climb and dive in pursuit and escape from clumps. He saw one coming towards them too close for her to flame, but she dipped a wing and it skimmed past to be picked up by another dragon.

((w00t, posting! I'm assuming I did this right? If not I'll change it ^^))