Strange Connections

[B'kay]

[[quoted post from transfer thread below]]

Although the fact that the strongest pull of the mating flight had passed, and the addition of a 100 dragonlength fall and a good soaking in cold lake water had cooled what was left of B'kay's unbridled passion, his mind was still not exactly clear. He clung to the young queen ... tight enough to not lose his grip, but not so tight as to annoy (fortunately he still had the brain to be respectful to the dragon who'd saved his life) ... and allowed her to tow him to shore.

He said nothing as Lefayeth pulled him in, just let the cold water wash over and around him, hoping it would fully clear his head by the time he had his feet under him again.

B'kay was trying to formulate a calm, sincere, but unworried response to Kitari's assurance that they were glad to have been on time, when the young gold rider cried out and grabbed her arm. It took a moment for the ichor which appeared on Lefayeth's wing to register, and when it did, all hopes of "calm" were thwarted.

"She's hurt! She hurt herself helping me," he said aloud, and stepped, hand outstretched and dripping, toward the young gold. Dark concern was in his eyes as he scanned the injury, wishing he had the skills of a dragonhealer. "Does it hurt badly?"

Far above, he could feel the calm contentment of the dark bronze dragon who was now, lazily, satisfied, winging his way toward them.

"Syth is ... currently unoccupied ..." he said awkwardly, "Is Lefayeth in distress? Would you like me to have him call for a healer?"

copied over from Calith Rises for context, Kitari's most recent post --


The Sr. Weyrling had still not moved from her frozen state, for it was quite a revelation to digest. Luckily, Lefayeth was not so strongly impacted, for she had the presence of mind to begin swimming slowly towards shore, as well as maintain her tail's loose grip on the man they had just saved. Kitari, however, was still unable to decide how to act in such a position. This entire situation had quite the effect of shattering her innocence, as she came to realize that the Weyrlingmaster she looked up to and admired was as vulnerable to natural urges as everyone else. And yet, to throw himself from a weyr ledge...was that a natural occurrence?

As he croaked out her name, Kitari still did not move, the confusion and uncertainty as plain on her face as his embarrassment. A sudden fear gripped her; had his Syth won the Flight, and was she the only other human around? It was her turn now, as the goldrider's face flushed deeply at the very thought, and she suddenly found herself glancing around the Lake, wondering if she ought to swim away. Perhaps Lefayeth could hold him underwater for a while, Kitari thought as panic began to set in, that might cool him off.

These irrational musings were interrupted by a thoroughly non-aggressive response from B'kay, as the Weyrlingmaster simply stroked the golden tail that gripped him in a grateful manner. As he explained the circumstances that had led to his fall, Kitari's anxiety began to recede. That all made sense, and the bronzerider seemed to be free from his connection now. Perhaps the fear of imminent death had frightened all lust out of him. That would be very convenient, indeed!

As the Weyrlingmaster lowered his gaze and thanked her and Lefayeth in hushed tones, Kitari's anxiety was replaced by a feeling of awkwardness. She had never expected one in a position of authority to be thanking her for anything. Also, Lefayeth and she had reacted out of instinct...they would have tried it for anyone. B'kay seemed very broken up by the thought of Syth's potential death, though, and Kitari felt a wave of sympathy for the bronzerider. "I'm just glad that we made it in time," she murmured back, eyes also dropping to Lefayeth's golden hide.

Kitari... Lefayeth intruded hesitantly, unsure if she should be interrupting yet. It was then that her rider finally became aware of the dull throb of pain through their bond, and she clutched at her right arm instinctively.

"Oh, Lefayeth!" Kitari cried, prying herself free from the soggy riding straps to slide down into the shallow, shoreline water beside her dragon. Her nervousness around B'kay was forgotten as she waded, hip deep, towards the rider, and her eyes sought the golden wing extending out for inspection. To her relief, it appeared that most of the damage was simply scraped hide at the joint of the wing rather than the wingsails, but the small droplets of ichor still made her feel faint. "I'm so sorry, my heart."

Don't be so dramatic, Kitarmine, Lefayeth chided, although her eyes were whirling rather quickly and were tinged orange. This was a lot of excitement for one day. It's just a scratch...right? Kitari looked to her Weyrlingmaster, seeking reassurance.

"She'll be all right, won't she? It's not permanently damaged?" Even Kitari realized, on some level, that the injury was not nearly so grave, but the adrenalin still racing through her veins served to amplify her worry. She stroked the golden membranes anxiously, unsure what to do.

((Maybe we should move this to a thread at the Lake?))

[Shikai]

((Dragonhealer coming up! ^^))

Farallen stretched, raising his arms over his head as he yawned. It was still daytime, so it was odd for him to be tired, but inactivity and boredom could do that to a person! There were people who were injured and needed aid from time to time, but C’lyn, Shikai, and Journye always proved sufficient in helping them. Besides, his training was in dragonhealing! Caring for dragons and caring for people were entirely different matters. But dragons were a healthy lot, not to mention hardy, and were rarely injured outside of threadfall. It was good that none of them were injured, of course, but Farallen couldn’t help wishing he had something to do. He was feeling quite useless of late, and nothing bothered Farallen quite so much as that.

His plan for the day to amuse himself was a trip to the lake. He could go swimming for a while, and then…well, he would figure out what to do next when he came to that! However, it appeared that Farallen’s plans were to be thankfully altered due to an unusual series of events indeed! A young gold dragon, clearly one of the two weyrling queens, was swimming toward the shore. Now, that in itself was not unusual at all. But as Farallen came closer, he noticed that a girl, probably the dragon’s rider, was walking beside her, and, the strange part, a man was clinging to the dragon’s tail! It was a strange sight indeed. Moreover, the young woman looked worried, and seemed to be fervently inspecting her dragon’s wing joint. Was the dragon hurt? Well, Farallen would have to ask, of course!

He increased his pace, jogging the last few meters toward the lake as he closed the distance between them. Not giving a thought to the state of his clothes, he waded out toward them, his pants dragging heavily through the water. “Er, hello!” He called, hanging back slightly in case his help wasn’t wanted or needed. “Are you alright? I mean, your dragon…is she alright?” He asked, his amber eyes narrowed slightly as he strained to look at the spot the young woman seemed concerned with from a slight distance.

[Kitari]

((I'm going to PP your Farallen, my dear Shikai, since you are absent in Greece, and we can't pause the entire thread to await your return Don't worry, it won't involve anything significant))

Kitari continued to analyze the injury to her dragon's wing, chiding herself repeatedly for not doing...something...to prevent it. Lefayeth was entirely in her care, though less reliant now than when she had first Hatched, and the Sr. Weyrling had always attempted to be especially careful around her seemingly fragile, smaller queen. The girl sincerely wished that she had taken the blow rather than her gold, although she knew it was impossible. Desperate to help, she sent soothing, calming thoughts to Lefayeth while frantically trying to figure out what to do or who to call.

Lefayeth snorted slightly at the explosion of concern and sudden activity around her wing, but she was touched nonetheless. It is not so bad, Kitarmine. It simply stings, and I was hoping for some relief. She moved the wing slightly, as if to demonstrate the lack of serious damage. We will be flying again by tomorrow. Tonight, your Lefayeth would like to rest, but if we needed to fly it would be done! Kitari couldn't help but be reassured by her dragon's defiant speech, even smiling slightly at the supreme confidence. Lefayeth hadn't allowed the outrage over her small size and strange proportions to slow her down in the past, and apparently she would treat an injury with the same unbothered air.

Both rider and dragon looked up in surprise as B'kay sloshed towards them, for they had almost forgotten that he was there during their exchange. Kitari fully understood the Weyrlingmaster's potential guilt, but she did not regret the decision to rescue him. It was far easier to blame herself for not watching how close they came to the wall of the Bowl. Before she could respond, though, Lefayeth added another shock to the gathering. The gold dragon was immediately sensitive to the man's concern, and to a young Weyrling dragon, he was the rider of her 'role model' of sorts, in that Syth was responsible for training the dragons while B'kay taught the riders.

Thus, the gold dragon chose to communicate with him directly, her gratitude and mutual concern evident in her tone. It is far from threatening life or flight, and as Kitarimine said, I would do it and more again to save the bonded of Syth. Her whirling green eyes emphasized this statement, as she gazed at the Weyrlingmaster for a moment before shifting to watch the young lad splashing towards them.

Kitari was shocked by Lefayeth's bold address, and she ducked her head to watch B'kay out of the corner of her eye, unsure how he would respond. It had already been a day full of surprises, and it seemed that Pern was not done with them yet. She glanced up as the new lad called out and nodded sharply when she recognized the typical, healer pouch at his side. "My Lefayeth requires numbweed and possibly bandaging. Are you trained at all with healing dragons?" At the lad's affirmative, she gestured him over, and watched intently as he began his ministrations with the minor injury.

Relieved that Lefayeth was finally being taken care of and pondering carrying a jar of numbweed with her at all times herself, Kitari finally looked up at B'kay once again. "I think this lad should be able to give Lefayeth whatever she needs. Are you in need of a Healer yourself?" The man had scrambled down a rock face before tumbling, not too softly, onto a dragon's neck ridges. It was possible he had sustained some kind of injury during this.

[B'kay]

B'kay, moving as quickly as the water, which seemed incredibly heavy in his nearly exhausted state, would allow, halted on the shore as the beautiful golden voice spoke in his mind. He stood, mouth agape, for a moment. Never, in all the years bonded to Syth, never had another's dragon honored him with direct communication.

He cleared his throat, and tried to force the hands that wanted to tremble into stillness. In a moment, the young gold's injury was forgotten, all of the talk about her size and awkwardness gone, and she was by far the most beautiful gold dragon he'd ever had the honor to meet.

He opened his mouth to speak, and at first nothing came out by a coarse whispered croak. He coughed and tried again.

"Thank you, Lefayeth," he bowed slightly, and glanced at Kitari, allowing his surprise and gratitude to shine through. "You honor me deeply." He straightened then, as if the young queen's touch had washed away all the awkward discomfort of a moment before. The disgrace of the riderless Flight was behind him, and he felt the dark, contented .. pretty much oblivious ... presence of Syth as the bronze settled into the water in the center of the lake.

He was grateful as he saw the young dragonhealer approach, and for a moment was absorbed in the treatment of the lovely injured wing. Lefayeth didn't appear to be overly concerned about the injury, and the young man seemed to be doing an excellent job of tending it.

He turned to Kitari as she asked for his own welfare, nodded and smiled. "I am all right," he said, only to be slightly shocked by the sight of the bloody, raw palm he reached toward her in reassurance. As if the sight of the wounds, for his other hand, his knees, and his chest were likewise scraped, made them real, they suddenly began to sting miserably. "However, I probably could use some of that numbweed, after Lefayeth's injuries are properly cared for.

As if the realization that his rider had minor injuries were a rooster's crow, Syth suddenly woke from his complacent reveries.


Are you hurt? How did you get hurt, Mine?

The bronze was suddenly at the shore, three powerful sweeps of his long tail having propelled him through the water. His eyes whirled orange, but he did not forget, in his concern, to bow respectfully to the young queen.

Greetings, Lefayeth.

Noble Lefayeth and young Kitari rescued me from a deadly fall after a certain bronze dragon abandoned me in my weyr for a greenflight chase, he replied, with more amusement than annoyance.

Taking a step backward, Syth rumbled deeply with stunned apology, and B'kay reached out to stroke the deep bronze nose soothingly.

After all, it was as good a reason as any.

[Kitari]

There was a long moment of silence as B'kay stood, immobile, upon the shore. Kitari kept her head tilted downward, as if studying the Dragonhealer's handiwork (which she was keeping an eye on), but she continued to watch the bronzerider for his response. She was rather surprised that he had been affected so strongly, for as lovely as Lefayeth's voice was, it didn't nearly leave her breathless like it had when they had first Impressed. That's not it at all, Lefayeth scolded, making a sound that rather resembled a 'hmph'.

I know that, love, Kitari teased back. Still, she was intrigued by the effect Lefayeth's speech had on B'kay. He was one of the most experienced dragonriders in the Weyr, and she wondered briefly if he had never heard another dragon's speech. That seemed impossible to the Weyrling, for she'd been told by gossiping Weyrfolk that the dragons of Weyrmates were often willing to converse with the other rider. It couldn't be such a rare occurrence, then.

Perhaps he was still feeling guilt over Lefayeth's injury and thus deemed himself undeserving of such a compliment... If that was the case, Kitari decided briskly, then she would remove such doubts entirely from her Weyrlingmaster's mind. He couldn't go on feeling uncomfortable towards them; she didn't want her Weyrling lessons to be spoilt by any lingering awkwardness. Before she could voice such concerns, however, the bronzerider finally found his voice, thanking Lefayeth and expressing to Kitari his heartfelt gratitude. She smiled back in surprise, thoroughly unused to the concept of causing others to feel 'honoured'. The goldrider could only nod, unsure of a proper response.

As he raised his ravaged hands, the girl started, not expecting such damage from his fall (although it definitely could have been worse). When B'kay informed them that he would like to wait for the numbweed until Lefayeth had been entirely attended to (the scrapes were already slathered in the cool gel and receiving bandages by that time), Kitari nearly rolled her eyes, grabbing the jar and moving carefully around Lefayeth's wing. The feelings of relief and relaxation wafting from the gold reassured her enough to leave her beloved's side, however briefly. "Don't be silly, Weyrlingmaster. That must hurt terribly," she began, dipping her fingers into the jar, when suddenly a dark bronze dragon swept down upon the shoreline, startling the Weyrling.

A moment later, Kitari let out the breath she had been holding in, for it was B'kay's Syth returned from his Flight. The bronze had obviously been beckoned by his rider's plight, and she was suddenly uncertain if he would appreciate her approaching his rider at such a time. Syth did appear highly agitated, and B'kay had even moved to comfort the great bronze. She remained standing still ankle deep in the water, awaiting her Weyrlingmaster's direction.

Lefayeth nodded awkwardly to the bronze dragon, rather disconcerted by her splayed out position in the water, with one wing extended for the Dragonhealer to attend to. It was not a very regal stance at all... Greetings, Syth, she replied, unsure how to make conversation with her 'superior', if he was interested in that at all. Did you...fly well today? Not being fully grown, Lefayeth still didn't quite understand the entire concept of these 'Flights', but she did know that they were very significant for all involved. Kitari flushed at her queen's question, for though an innocent query coming from Lefayeth, it was a very personal subject.

[B'kay]

Though B'kay's first reaction upon feeling Syth's dismay was to comfort the dragon, he noted that Kitari had retrieved the numbweed, as well. He stepped back toward the young queen rider and held out his palms.

"They're just surface abrasions, don't worry," he said softly, "Nothing a little numbweed won't cure, thank you." He would have taken the jar himself, but his rescuer already had dipped into the greasy, pungent-smelling concoction. "Just a little there, please," he held out the right hand, "With my gratitude." He could easily rub the palms together and upon the light scrapes along his chest.

Syth, still hovering over his rider apologetically, turned toward the gold dragon as she addressed him. He bowed his head with respect. My sincere gratitude to you, Lefayeth, for rescuing my rider. Please extend my thanks to your rider as well. Today's flight was ... successful ... in one way, thank you, he responded most politely, though his eyes whirled yellow with concern, But in others ... not so, it seems. Are you well? I am so sorry you injured yourself on my account.

The deeply shadowed bronze reached his muzzle tentatively toward the young gold in thanks and contrition.

[Kitari]

As the Weyrlingmaster stepped towards her, Kitari dropped her eyes to his extended hands, trying to quash the pink that was still in her cheeks. Her eyes widened slightly at the scrapes, for they didn't seem so trivial to her, but then the Weyrling remembered that his was not a man unused to pain. He bore the evidence of his past brush with Thread in a scar for all to see. She shuddered inwardly at the thought of that deadly menace. It was her greatest fear, now that she had Lefayeth, that her darling gold might be struck by Thread when the scourge began to fall. It couldn't be long now...

Tentatively, the Weyrling reached out to dab the numbweed onto the bronzerider's palm, so absorbed in her thoughts that she began to smooth it over the skin before yanking her hand back, realizing that he would likely wish to do that himself. "Um, there, that should...help." Coughing slightly to cover her discomfiture, Kitari set the jar down on the sand beside him and sloshed back into the Lake, quickly returning to Lefayeth's side and rinsing the numbweed off of her hands in the water. The gold regarded her with curiousity but didn't say anything, merely butting her rider in a silent demand for a scratch around her eye ridges, which the girl eagerly obliged.

When the great bronze addressed her, Lefayeth dipped her head in mutual respect, then tilted it to the side as she listened. Her eyes began whirling faster with pleasure at being shown such gratitude and concern, and she proudly relayed the message to Kitari. Syth is very grateful to us and apologizes for my injury. We have done well!

Yes, you have, my love, Kitari replied, smiling and stroking the soft hide of her beloved's head.

As I told your rider, Kitari and I are both very happy that we were able to help today. And the injury is no worse than that suffered by your rider as he fell. I am glad your Flight was successful in one way. Lefayeth thought that was an appropriate response, and her tail flicked back and forth in amusement.

The Weyrling rider glanced over at B'kay once more, wondering if she ought to fill the silence. "What is Thread like?" Kitari blurted all at once, then quickly returned her gaze back to Lefayeth. She wasn't sure if the Weyrlingmaster would be willing to talk about the subject; those who had flown against Thread before knew its horrors and were not likely to want to relive them.

[B'kay]

As the young goldrider reached for B'kay's palms, she seemed distracted, lost in thought for a moment. But it was B'kay himself who became perplexed as she began to rub in the salve.

He felt an odd flutter in his stomach, a sensation he hadn't felt in years ... and it so startled him that when she suddenly pulled away, he jumped.

He turned his face from her for a moment, until he could find the mental calm to blame his reaction on his dragon's unexpected mating flight.

Her question, however, caused him to forget his discomfort, and turn toward her, slowly, his hand reflexively reaching for the scar that ran down his cheek, neck and shoulder. It ended on his chest, mingling with the fresh abrasions. As if the scar pointed out those new wounds, reminding him, he reached his numbweed-smeared palms to them and applied the salve there as well.

"Thread," he said quietly, and walked to Syth, who was now lounging lazily in the water close to Lefayeth. B'kay was wet to the skin anyway, so he waded in, hauled himself to his bronze's foreleg, and leaned back against the dark, glimmering shoulder. He gazed at Kitari for a moment, trying to decide how to describe the ancient menace, then looked over to Farallen as well. Was the young dragonhealer from his own time, or this? It seemed so long, faces blurred and mingled. If from the past, he was probably not much more than a child when the last threads fell.

"Syth was hatched toward the end of the fall," he said softly, and reached down to stroke the dragon's soft hide. "I got this," he reached up and touched the scar, "During our first threadfall flight. A storm blew in suddenly, the erratic winds made it almost impossible to judge which way the tangles would shift...." His face darkened for a moment, but then lit up like the sun peeking from behind a cloud and he smiled slightly and shrugged.


"Thread. It's terrifying. When you haven't seen it, I suppose it's hard to conceive that Thread is not just a thing that falls from the sky. It's alive, and it's hungry. It eats anything living and it does so with no morals, no heart, no discernment, no concern for the agony it causes, the devastation it leaves in its wake. I've watched it hit a full grown runner, and immediately engulf it, all gray and greasy and bloated, where it then sank into the ground, leaving nothing but a few scraps of bone. It took mere seconds. I'd have thought it all my imagination if the screams of the poor beast weren't still echoing in my ears."

He shook himself, his gaze returning from the unfocused memory and seeking Kitari's face. "I'm sorry if that frightens you, but in this case fear is good. If you're afraid of a thing, you'll be that much more vigilant against it."

Then he could no longer meet her eyes, and he turned away, leaning his scarred cheek against his dragon's hide. "And I'll confess, Kitari, that I'm afraid, too. Thread's coming, and we don't know how soon. I'm honestly afraid that there's little one small Weyr can do to save Pern when it arrives."

Syth, picking up his rider's emotions, rumbled deeply and reached toward young Lefayeth, touching her gently with his muzzle, as if to offer comfort.

[Kitari]

((Gawd. Just typed this post and had the whole thing deleted when I attempted to copy it before posting and ended up hitting paste instead. *sigh* Hopefully I don't murder the re-do...))

As Kitari had hastily darted away from B'kay after unthinkingly rubbing the salve onto his palm, hoping he hadn't remarked upon this strange behaviour, she had failed to notice his startlement. She now stood by Lefayeth's head, and the dragon lowered her snout to rest lightly on the girl's shoulder, as her rider reached up to stroke the golden hide. They watched the bronzerider make his way to Syth and clamber onto his foreleg, then Kitari met his gaze when he began to speak.

The Weyrling was quite surprised that he was choosing to share details of his own brush with thread, describing how he had received the scar that marked his face and neck, but she restrained herself from showing this surprise on her features. Kitari worried that he would become angry or stop speaking if she reacted poorly, so she schooled her expression to be as passive as possible. She wondered briefly why he had chosen to share this personal story with her at all, but quickly reminded herself that it was likely another 'lesson' from the Weyrlingmaster and nothing more.

As he continued, telling of witnessing Thread consuming a beast, Kitari glanced occasionally at the dragonhealer's work on Lefayeth's wing. She told herself that this was solely out of concern for her dragon, but the girl was also unable to meet that dark gaze for long when it appeared so haunted. She shuddered, outwardly this time, at his vivid description. Somehow, hearing it from one who had witnessed it firsthand made Thread more real than it had ever been in the bedtime stories for children.

When B'kay took her by surprise once again by apologizing for speaking of frightful things, Kitari didn't bother to hide her reaction this time. She suddenly felt the desire to bristle and declare loudly that she was utterly confident and not afraid, for was he not suggesting that she was weaker than other male dragonriders? All her life she had struggled against the arrogance of men, who believed that she was incapable simply because she was a woman.

She had an angry retort prepared, but before the words could even form on her tongue, he confessed his own fear. Kitari's anger rapidly dissipated, replaced by shame at her unjustified assumption. Her eyes immediately slipped to the Lake's surface, hoping he hadn't seen their momentary flash of outrage.

Kitari let the silence linger for a time, considering all of the details he had shared about the menace of Pern. Finally, she took a deep breath, and began tentatively, "I am afraid as well. I am afraid for Lefayeth, and the other Weyrlings, whose inexperience and youthful belief in immortality may lead to many injuries..." She paused before meeting his gaze once more. "But we must try." Her tone was fierce yet soft, and her eyes glittered with determination. Kitari had never been one to back away from a fight.

Lefayeth enveloped her rider in comforting thoughts, leaning into Kitari's caresses. She didn't understand everything the pair was speaking about, for Thread was still a very foreign concept, but she understood the fear. The gold shifted instinctively to better receive Syth's comfort. Her eyes whirled gently with appreciation, and the usually confident gold suddenly wondered if she was bold enough to reciprocate the comforting touch.

[B'kay]

B'kay watched the shifting emotions in the proud young goldrider from under half-closed lids. He liked that spark of defiance that had flashed for a moment in her eyes. Should she turn those feelings toward Thread, there may be hope for the Weyr ... and for Pern ... after all. When she closed with "we must try", the determination on her face made him smile despite himself.

Again, that odd flutter in his stomach. He tried to ignore it, and told himself that it was just the aftermath of the very bizarre mating flight incident.

Syth rumbled quietly, half asleep in his content and exhaustion, and shifted closer to Lefayeth. B'kay, with long years of practice, adjusted his balance as the dragon moved.

"You've been studying dragonrider history, as well as your weyrling training, Kitari," he said at last, after having silently organized his thoughts for a few moments. "The scrolls tell us that in times of great need, the dragons of Pern naturally try to ... fill that need. Larger clutches, more queen dragons ... the fact that we had two queens in one clutch seems to hold to that theory."

He sighed, reluctant to let his thoughts continue, but they were thoughts that needed to be voiced. "How long do you think it will be before we can repopulate the Weyrs of Pern with enough dragons to actually protect the planet?" He refrained from asking the second question which always followed that one in his mind: and how many will die in the meanwhile?

"We need dragons. We need queens. We have so many empty Weyrs to fill, and no real idea, due to the shift in patterns, when Thread will really begin to fall or how bad it will be. The odds seem ... tremendous."

He watched her face as he spoke, wondered what thoughts his words were creating in her mind.

"Is there any way to even those odds?"