In which Nalaieth takes to the skies again! Part 1.
Your location's current time: 18:25 on day 6, month 8, Turn 12, of the Interval. It is a summer evening.
The wet summer season oppresses the island with high humidity and sweltering temperatures. Tonight, there is a light, sprinkling rain and the air hardly moves more than a whisper.
The summer air is thick, heavy, and humid, the sun in its afternoon path making the dark sands hot and catching each glimmer. Sunning herself precariously near the docks is Nalaieth, her hide glowing in a rich brilliance. Nearby, Nolee scowls at some weyr residents who are hard at work picking up what looks like a trash bag's contents scattered along the beach. Her usual pertness has given way to a case of the surls. "Give a bad impression of us, you will. Clumsy oafs who caused this mess. If I get ahold of them, I'll pull out toenails, just watch me."
Talurith has claimed himself a nice sunning spot on the beach where the waves lap against his side and stain his mud-coloured belly darker. R'layn is also partaking in a spot of sunbathing, working on his tan while he's got the day off. As the residents work their way closer, Nolee comes into hearing range and the rider cracks open an eyelid at her grumblings. Talurith's eyes are open, barely, just peeking at Nalaieth. Watching.
Kamia eyes the scene for a moment, and despite the fact she's tired, Nari is quickly sent up into the air and away from the glowy queen, and she moves towards her favorite Ril, especially careful about not catching weyrwomen's attention for the moment.
Naurimeth leaps up in a spray of sand and is borne aloft by the winds.
Nalaieth senses that she might have an audience, and she stretches luxuriously, her sinuous curves a slick undulation from shoulder to tail, the queen soaking up as much sun and attention as she's able to absorb, unaware of the reason for Naurimeth's abrupt departure and a little pouty about loss of audience. Nolee casts the dragon a distracted stare of disapproval for her antics, and points forcefully at another broken dish. "You, get that." A woman jumps to and Nolee scans the beach, taking in the sights...clothed and shirtless as well. Hmmm. Cough. "Where'd she go?" she fairly barks at Kamia.
R'layn opens his mouth to voice a question, but thinks better of it when Nolee's not-so-pleasant mood becomes apparent. Mouth shutting, his lips twist into a smile at Kamia's approach. "Aft'rnoon, Kamia." Naurimeth's departure is not missed, Talurith offering a farewell whuff. "How're you and Naurimeth keeping?" He shuffles into an upright position, gaze sliding to the right to look at Nolee when she barks at the green rider.
Kamia blinks as her thought of getting Nari out of the way backfires and has to think fast. "She was hungry weyrwoman, ma'am" She faintly even seems to turn almost green, her fingers kneeding into her lower back to try and release some of the tension. She looks back at Ril hopelessly, almost hoping her friend can protect her.
Nolee's close enough now to just about leer at the bronzerider, then to lose her nerve in a wide-eyed moment of shy panic that has her studying the ground once more. Even Kamia's given a thoughtful once-over, and an approving nod. "Can't have them starving. Got a shipment in," a nod to the docks, where workers are just beginning to unload a large set of crates containing animals bleating and lowing and grunting, crates of special interest to Nalaieth of a sudden, "our tithes." Some satisfaction, less crankiness. "Breeding stock. Should replenish some of the herds."
Kamia
Kamia is a pretty young lady of 19 Turns, 4 months, and 21 days. She has shoulder length strawberry blonde hair, done up in a braid, with one thin ponytail trailing down her back. She's dressed in a simple light blue tunic, a bit long over leather riding pants. She's boused the tunic with a fabric belt. She's also got a pair of soft hide boots, though she shuffles her feet in them, not fond of them. She has a knot of three strands, orange, black, and green.
Sareith has been utterly dead asleep this entire time. The overlarge Telgari bronze is well up from the tide line and burrowed comfortably in the softer black sand of the dunes. As a lone figure approaches up the beach from the south he cracks open one eyelid, yawning indolently.
R'layn rolls onto his knees and pushes himself up so that he's standing, able to step in to assist Kamia if need be. Though the moment may have passed: Nolee seems less confrontational now. Her loss of nerve is duly noted, the rider glancing silently at Nalaieth and giving a barely visible roll of his eyes. Right. "We need it," Ril comments to Nolee, nodding to the crates. "Tal's been complaining that there ain't as much choice for his dinner." Said bronze is still watching Nalaieth, uttering a croon to her now.
Kamia relaxes for a moment, and nods quickly, agreement with Nolee. "Difinately Nolee" She says as she tries to keep the good in focus. "Breeding stock is always good..." She gives a friendly smile. "Wanna have a drink to celebrate?" Poor dock workers.. Kamia tries to keep distracted for them. She leans into Ril for a moment, she was to tired for this.
Nalaieth stretches her neck out in a flirty fashion, then croons in a sultry manner to the workmen unloading the crates, urging them to be careful with her future dinners. The noise also might be designed to wake up any yawning would-be admirers nearby, or to return a greeting to Talurith. Her tail lashes prettily, leaving lines in the sand to welcome the surf. "It is good. Sharding scrawny ones we've got now, hardly any fat on them." A smug smile, then a shake of her head. "No, not for me. I've still the hidework to do for them once they reach the pens, make sure the tithe's complete. Mmm, they even smell good, though."
Gr'din calls to Sareith, "Rei, we need to be heading back - Oh, sorry." The Telgari rider pulls up short at the activity. "Tithe coming in?" he asks genially to the little group gathered and offers, "Gr'din, Rei's here from Telgar. Day off and all - we're not in the way are we?" Sareith, for his part, eyes Nalaieth and rumbles politely back at her before turning to include Talurith in the greeting.
R'layn is a good little leaning post, standing rock steady for Kamia to rest against. His eyes are on Nolee, though they dart away to glance at her dragon every now and then. Talurith is much the reverse, all his attention on Nalaieth without so much as a passing look offered to Nolee. Every now and then his tail tip twitches, or a claw flicks. Ril 'hehs' at Nolee's comment. "Aye, they smell good to th'dragons, I'm sure." He aims a /look/ at Talurith. "Ista's duties," he turns, all open, welcoming body language, to Gr'din. "Naw, just don't go getting trampled by a herdbeast," he grins. Talurith offers Sareith a look; nothing more. Nalaieth's prettier than the other bronze.
Kamia smiles friendly like at the Telgari bronze, still using her wing mate for a leaning post, trying to hide her yawn, now is not the time to be falling asleep. "Hello!" She chirps to the rider. "I'm Kamia, this is my wingmate, R'lyan, and this is one of the local weyrwomen, Nolee." She says of their little cluster. New people are a distraction right?
The beach cleaners have moved further from fickle Nolee, keeping their sphere wider than hers, some downright hiding behind Sareith. Nala has moved closer, her wide paws splashing in the surf, water droplets clinging to her bright sunkissed form, and is sniffing at the container, fascinated. Nolee, meanwhile, becomes a perfect hostess, extra cheer and all. "Not at all," she echoes, nodding when identified by Kamia. "Duties to your weyr, of course. Hopefully there won't be any trampling today."
Gr'din ducks his head, adding, "Duties sir, ma'ams." He manages to restrain himself from a salute, but a glance at Sareith explains: though big, the bronze is young, not very far out of weyrlinghood. "And well met. Beautiful beaches y'all have here - I was hoping I might run into Caitlyn while I was here, but this lazy lump," he thumps Rei companionably, "Fell asleep on me rather than bespeaking Kintryth." He keeps a wary eye on the beasts being unloaded, "Do they... trample often?" For his part, Rei is twisting about, amused at being used as a screening device, before he fixes his attention on Nalaieth again.
Dragon> Nalaieth senses that Sareith offers in a smoky, dark whiskey tone, << If you shake it, I bet they'll make lots of noise. >> The suggestion is pure innocence, wide eyed and guileless, glossing over the barest hint of amusement, lacing through that smooth, cigar-flowing tone.
With a lift of his hand, a smile and a nod when he's anamed, R'layn gives Gr'din an oddly scrutinizing look before his attention drifts away. Talurith has got to his feet, shifting muddy paws in the water and crooning sweetly to Nalaith, putting his head forward slightly. What'cha got there? His rider laughs at Nolee's 'hopefully', eyes twinkling with his usual good humour. "We like our visitors t'go back in one piece." He looks to Nolee and then to Kamia (the latter a tougher feat given her proximity) before offering a reply to the visitor. "I prefer our beaches, but that must be a home thing." A grin, then - "They don't usually. Unless a dragon spooks 'em. They're only stupid creatures, after all."
Kamia is difinately tired, she rubs her eyes a bit, then forces herself to stand up taller. "I'm sure your dragon wouldn't let them harm you. How old is he? He looks like he might have a bit of growing to go"
Nalaieth croons again at the beasts being unloaded in the shipping containers on the dock, whose anxiety levels cannot behoove health in the immediate future. She lowers one eye to look in the shipping crate, fascinated, and one large, tawny paw reaches up to rest on the crate thoughtfully. Nolee is blissfully ignorant, though the dockworkers who are shaking heads and pushing at the dragon certainly aren't. "Caitlyn? Can't ever find her. She's all over the place." A headshake, mirthful. "Trample? No, no, not usually." In the background, the beach-cleaning crew continues to pick up trash...or to hide from Nolee's wrath behind convenient dragons.
Gr'din nods to R'layn, seemingly oblivious to the sizing up the Istan bronzer gives him. "Not many beaches at Telgar, for certain. And no, ma'am - uh, Kamia." A flash of a grin. "Thankfully not. He's finally got his full growth. Just over two turns. We were tapped not long ago into the wings. And this was my first day off since." A rueful, open smile. Sareith sits up on his haunches, scattering off the light coating of sand that had snuck up on him while he slept. He warbles lightly to Nalaieth, though he makes no approach to the beasts, likely due to the look his rider shoots him. "Too bad about Caitlyn, though I'm sure she's busy with duties and such."
Loketh and Val are much farther down the stretch of beach than this main group, the bronzer having had enough of all the noise when all he wanted to do was sleep in the sun. HOwever, Loketh continues to be strangely antsy since his arrival an hour ago, the great bronze having first taken a swim, then rolling and laying on the beach, now continuing to nose about restlessly -- diggin up great furrows and mounds of black sand. His rider is still splayed out on a towel, taking some rare free time off, V'ryce decked out in nothing but undyed weyrhide swimming skivvies and his lazy smile.
Brise stomps across the beach in work boots, causing a gritty crunch-crunch-crunch as she heads towards the docks. She converses with the foreman for a bit, and then turns away with a wave over her shoulder. The gathered dragons and riders catch her attention as she goes stomping back towards the Weyr, and willful curiosity changes her course. She moseys nonchalantly towards them. Her gaze flicks from the dragons (particularly Nalaeieth) to the herdbeasts, and a smile spreads across her face. She's either ignorant of the Nalaieth's current state, or actually finds some amusement in the gold's antics. The smile rises or falls in intensity as she hears bits and pieces of the conversation. "Hey," is all she says as she comes to a halt.
Jaireth blinks in from Between, taking in the warm air currents to circle the beach lazily before landing. Perhaps it's a coincidence that he's chosen to land near the Istan queen, which prompts an immediate dark look from his rider. Dismounting, B'yan takes a long scan as his feet hit the ground. He's a bit ways from the gathering group as he stumps to the muddy bronze's side and begins to untie the package.
Dragon> Nalaieth senses that Sareith ask lightly, << Not going to shake it? >>
Nalaieth> Sareith senses that Nalaieth considers mirthfully, amber thickness melting over the smoke and whiskey, surrounding them in a crusted haze. << Should I? Then they'd all get out. >>
Dragon> Nalaieth senses that Sareith pretends to think about this, giving it the full weight of his consideration. << And that would be bad... why? >>
It's not uncommon to see Sulizath here, curled in that deep wallow to the left of The Sandbar just the right size for the large brown. He's normally snoring peacefully with his tail flicked up over his nose and his chin resting on neatly folded forepaws. Currently, however, he's not sleeping - he's alert, eyes wide opened and flickering between the door of the beach bar and back to Nalaieth. It is, no doubt, a silent summons that brings Fadra stomping out, her face fallen into a look of dismay. "Y'have t'be /kidding/." There's really nothing even remotely humorous, however, about the glowing gold nearby, and Fadra's upper lip curls in distaste. "You're nay kidding. Ugh."
Nalaieth> I bespoke Sareith with << Maybe I will. >> Mischief is in her tone, mischief breaks up the amber haze and reveals the lusty jazz siren beneath. << That would be fun. >>
Gryth soars in from out of nowhere, landing on the Ista Beach and nearly shakes Zi'ya off as he settles, trying to get him to take off the riding straps. "What's with... oh... oh no... not again..." he groans as he sees the crowd on the beach, not spotting the glowing gold just yet. He glances around. "At least there are a few folks I know..." he mutters, veering in V'ryce's direction.
Kamia waves as she spots poor Zi'ya, giving him a look of amused empathy for him, pushing off Ril, then reaching for Ril's hand. "Hey Ril, did you meet Zi'ya ever?"
The heat of the Istan beach pervades, the humidity thick in the air. A contingent of weyrfolk scan the beaches, cleaning up the remnants of beach trash and remaining out of Nolee's sight. The weyrwoman stands visiting with several others, Telgari, Istans, and her own mood which varies from a scowl to a ready smile. A contrast against the black granules of sand, the large figure of the shimmering Nalaieth waits half in the surf, half on land, one paw up on a freshly-unloaded cargo crate of tithe animals, ready to replenish the weyr's breeding stock. A mischievous yowling croon escapes her lips and she gives it a good solid jostling. Within, the startled bleats and stomping protests of the weyr's latest tithe beasts can be heard, and several dockhands raise their voices to shoo her away, to no avail.
Dragon> Nalaieth senses that Gryth's mindvoice is firelight and heat as he greets, warmth and affection ensueing, << Good Day, beauty. >>
Dragon> Nalaieth senses that Sareith responds immediately to that sense of mischief, fanning the flames and slyly allowing his own sense of fun and adventure to peep out, as well as that razor sharp interest. << Oooh, shake it again! >>
Loketh catches a captivating something on the thick Istan air, the FOrtian bronze's neck lifting from his latest trench to hunt down that odd whatever it is. A sudden tensing runs through his strong, young frame, a great shudder then rippling from head to tailtips. There. /THERE/ it is. His stare is directed at the golden form of Nalaieth. His once blue eyes spin up instantly to a roiling purple-red, and the strapless dragon suddenly flicks his body into the air, winging quickly over towards those tempting beasts down the beach, staring at Nala as she jostles their crate. A surprised V'ryce is left behind, sitting bolt upright as he stares dumbly after his departing dragon. "Hey! What the.." he calls out rather brightly, staring over at Zi'ya.
Nalaieth> Gryth senses that Nalaieth reaches out with an amber fog, thick and hazy and lusty beneath. << Good day, visitor. We welcome you. >> Mirth prevails: isn't her toy entertaining?
For R'layn, this isn't the best of times for an amazing amount of people to just appear seemingly out of nowhere. Maybe some other time, but not right now, with his dragon bewitched by the glowing Nalaieth. Sighing, Ril squeezes Kamia's hand and looks over at the aforementioned Zi'ya. "Don't think I've ever had the honour. Uh." Talurith is staying back from Nalaieth, not brave (or stupid) enough to get between the gold and the meal-bearing crates. He'll stay back here while she does what she wants, thank you very much, though every muscle in his body is twitching occasionally with barely-contained excitement.
Dragon> Nalaieth senses that Gryth voice shimmers with heat of the fire, trying perhaps to consume that delicious fog. He is pleased at the welcome.
Pulling the package finally free, B'yan eyes the glowing gold and the other dragons near her with sudden annoyance. "Shard it-" he begans before the arrival of the familiar Reachian Weyrsecond shifts his attention. At the comment, the bronzerider makes an irritated noise at the back of his throat as he turns toward M'wen. "If you're calling this kind of timing -good-..." he responds, leaving the sentence to trail when he glances back at the muddy bronze and notices that, for all intents and purposes, he's no long paying attention to his rider.
Gryth 's low rumble is sent as a greeting to the glowing gold when Zi'ya finally spots her. "Shells, Gryth you're kidding me right?" he turns though, as Kamia spots him and smiles warmly, "Hello there..." he grins, a nod to R'layn. "Zi'ya, rider of Bronze Gryth..." he manages through the impending fog of a flight. V'ryce still gets spotted though and he waves his friend over.
Kamia smiles up at her wingmate. "Gryth has interesting timing, to say the least... he flew Nari a few seven days back." She says with a yawn, offering her arms out in a hug for the half away Zi'ya.
V'ryce climbs to his feet slowly, wrapped up for the first time in his own dragon's sensual emotions -- the swimshorts-clad Fortian dazedly wandering up the beach towards the group. WHen he finally reaches Zi'ya, the fair-skinned bronzer just stares dumbly at him.
A glance towards the shouts at the dock wipes the smile off of Brise's face. No, things aren't the least bit amusing any more, for several reasons. She glances at Nolee, raising her eyebrows at the woman, and then gazing at the gathering riders. She purses her lips, and begins to slip away from the group towards the beach-cleaning weyrfolk. Might be a good time for them to make a quick exit - for the time being.
Gr'din's attention is finally caught by the abrupt descention of the other bronze and brownriders, and abruptly swings to scowl at Sareith. "Rei! Just what are you telling - oh no. No you don't. I'm not get mixed up in this like I did at the Reaches." A glance at Nolee and he offers, a bit more politely, "No offense, ma'am."
Nolee's eyes blank a moment, her hand going reflexively to her head to steady herself. "I'm sorry, did someone say something to--" But that's broken off as Nalaieth croons to the crate's creatures, fascinated by their terror. Her razor-sharp talons scrape lines through the wood of their pen, generating a wince-worthy screeing noise. Then abruptly, her generous bright-lit curves are hurled against the crate--Creaking, then outright destruction, sending frightened beasts on a run for their lives as they scramble over the docks and toward the beach...and whatever fate awaits them there where the hungry males await.
Sareith abruptly pounces on one of the beasts, a nice big fat one that will serve the weyr well at a feast. A neat breaking of its neck, and his maw is immediately buried into its belly, even as he stuns another with a flick of his tail. However, the force of the blow sends it reeling back towards Nalaieth and the other males, lowing in confusion.
Gryth is all attention and as the beasts are freed from their plight on the boat one rather succulent one comes running right for him. In hardly a moment he catches, snaps it's neck and offers it to the gold before leaping into the air and quickly picking one of his own to blood.
Fadra's scowl is darker than normal, and she eyes the drink in her hand (a tropical orange thing, complete with floating chunks of ice and a decorative cherry, speared through and bobbing in the liquid) with more than a litle disdain. "I figure I could use th'real thing, now, eh?" she inquires of her lifemate, but he's busy shifting out of the sand, dropping some on his rider, his flanks flickering spasmodically in anticipation. Though Fadra cowers away from the screeching of claws meeting wood, Sulizath takes it as a cue. Never a messy killer, the panic ensures his own kill to be easier than normal. They're chasing themselves after all - and he practically purrs as he pushes out a long neck and a powerful jaw to simply snap up a doe that runs too close and pull her into his paws for blooding. Fadra? Despite not being shy of blood or flights, she winces so deeply her eyes close, and turns away to focus on poking her cherry in and out of her drink.
Ooh, beasties on the loose! It's like fast food - one ovine dashes straight at Talurith in a blind panic, veering at the last moment. Unfortunately that last moment is too late, for one swipe of a darkly-coloured paw smacks the creature to the ground. Still bleating, albeit feebly, it writhes as Talurith bites into its neck to blood. R'layn clears his throat, hand slipping out of Kamia's as things start to go from calm to manic. "Bronze Talurith's," he offers faintly to Zi'ya, one hand going to rub his throat gently while he stares at his lifemate.
Kamia normally wouldn't be all that affected by the sight of dragons blooding for a flight, but she breaks her hold on Ril's hand and flees to the edge of the beach to be sick to her stomach at the sight of the massive death and smell of blood.
Loketh croons almost delightedly at Nalaieth for freeing those stupid beasts, the bronze shooting upwards like a strangely outbound comet, to chase after them. Avoiding the other males, the coppery-bronze singles out a huge buck like the great hunter that he is, lays it low with jet claws. The thing is hurled to the sand, Loketh settling upon it like a madman at the slaughter -- teeth fastening around the throat and chest -- efficiently exsanguinating the carcass.
Jaireth doesn't take long to choose his beast. He's in the air and leaping on one of the closest of the freed beasts. Claws snapping the neck deftly of one, he immediately begans his drink of its blood, all the while keeping his intent gaze upon the glowing Istan queen.
Gr'din swears. Rather colorful language much like the dock workers are spouting right about now. Kamia's abrupt departure is noticed and he deliberately wrenches his attention away from Nolee - maybe if he won't look, Rei won't chase! - and moves upstream against the beginning press of bronze and brownriders towards the Istan goldrider. "Kamia? You, uh, okay?" Stupidly, he offers her out his sandy beach towel.
Zi'ya glances at V'ryce. "Hey, Val you ok?" he asks, the tone in his voice mellow and low, he does raise an eyebrow at Kamia's quick deptarture. "Well... I guess it's time to sit back, wait... and perhaps enjoy..." he smirks at V'ryce, then winks.
Maxeoth seems happy enough as the herdbeasts scatter only to be grabbed and blooded by the surrounding dragons. Watching a medium sized one carefully as it scurries under the now airborne Jaireth, he extends a few claws to deftly kill the creature before it even hits the ground. Blooding the carcass, he keeps a rapidly swirling eye on the Istan queen. M'wen, on the other hand, winces at the instant bloodshed before replying quickly to B'yans comment, "Ugh, I was being sarcastic. Nothing seems to work out when I end up at Ista."
V'ryce keeps on staring like a twit, his hazy, green gaze now drawn rather predictably towards Nolee, his expression slowly altering to something akin to lust. Zi'ya's words manage to penetrate his brain, though, and he runs a tonguetip over his lips, grinning. "Mm, is /this/ how it is?" he almost coos to his friend, slipping an arm over Zil's shoulder.
Kamia takes the towel, trying to clean her face of the mess she's making in the bush, a tiny whimper coming from her as she does. "I'll be ok... you should watch your dragon..." Though she leans into the bronze rider, a bit shaky from her upset stomach.
Sareith seems to have no compunctions about whether his 'mate does or doesn't watch Nalaieth's rider. Smoldering, the dark bronze catches two more beasts and quickly drains them. The one he stunned earlier is still staggering around out there, easy pickings for any of the feasting dragons. Finished with blood, he waits, wings half unfurled, amethyst eyes on Nalaieth, tense and eager.
Done with his first herdbeast, Talurith moves his head to aim a look at Nalaieth. It's a fat bovine that gets squished by the bronze, he having to actually jump-pounce on one rather than let it run into his grasp. Drinking noisily, the bronze's red and purple eyes are fixed on Nalaieth. It's she whose lead he'll follow, and he'll follow gladly, too. A savage twist of his head sends blood splattering around, and just like that Tal finishes drinking, licking the red liquid from his yellowed teeth as he lifts his head. R'layn's well-used to this show, looking about at the other riders gathered on the beach. There are a /lot/ of them. And only one gold rider, somewhere on the beach.
B'yan keeps his head at an angle away from all the carnage, his hazel eyes seeking out the goldrider as he moves to stand next to M'wen. "I believe my sister said those same words when she frequents here," he drawls in response, a faint grin appearing briefly when he tips his head in the Weyrsecond's direction. "In either case, looks like we're stuck whether we like it or not. I was going to save this," and the Reachian turns to pick up a strap of Jaireth's carrysack that was hastily unattached and left behind, "but since we won't be heading anywhere else for awhile, might I tempt you with a drink?" and a bottle breaks free as he straightens.
Gr'din has leaning girl into him, this isn't so bad. He actually twitches lightly, patting her clumsily on the shoulder. "Hopefully he won't chase." Against his will, eyes are drawn to Nalaieth, looking for Nolee. Unable to find her in the crowd, he clumsily pats Kamia again. "Rei's not blooding," anymore "So I think he's okay."
Gryth doesn't seem affected by Nalaieths's rejection of his beast. He bloods a second beast, eyes constantly on the gold, waiting for her to take flight, watching how she moves. Zi'ya's eyes follow V'ryce's and smiles at Nolee, giving his pal a squeeze. "Yeah Val... this is what it's like." he smirks.
Surprise! There's lots of folks on the Istan beach and brown Jekzith seems to hesitate in the air a moment before setting down rapidly on the far end of the expanse of sand, letting his rider off. P'draig stands there uncertainly for a moment, then nods just once and trudges vaguely towards where others cluster, remaining on the outside edge of the group. Jekzith is quick back up into the sky on the other hand, eyes sparkling with delight at the prospect of ... well first, chasing after some randomly running critters. Run critters, run. As usual, he seems to have more fun chasing after the beasts than actually bringing them /down/ but he does eventually score a brace of fluffy sheepies and takes them out with dispatch. Nalaieth is a distraction of course from both the hunting and the drinking as that little boat goes boosh!
Unsurprisingly, Nolee's beach cleaning crew has scattered, most taking refuge in the sandbar, the rest pursuing herdbeasts and ovines and dodging dragons. Nolee herself is shouting at them to come back, or go back, or...hm, there are all these people here. "Jays, how rude of me! Ista's duties!" Heedless of the carnage or chaos, she continues, "We're really a lovely weyr. We've citron fruits, my favorites, and herdbeasts freshly broken, and--oh!"
Jaireth tosses the used-up beast from needlessly once his blood was gone and goes for another. There is no finesse in the way he bloods - just simply getting the job done in a quick manner. He sinks his teeth into his next victim and starts to blood, tail lashing in anticipation of what to come next by instinct.
The arrival of the now blooding sensual, smoky Nalaieth wrests Loketh's attention from his gorey repast, scarlet and violet gaze riveted to her glorious form. A basso cadence of respect and desire rolls from his wide chest to honor the queen, and then he launches for his second victim -- a massive herdbeast who is crumpled to the ground beneath his massive body. Blood is greedily coaxed from its twitching form by his loud suckles, which carry up and down the beach. Even as he bloods, the Fortian sends out a thrumming earthy croon to Nala, letting her nkow he's here, and she's the darling redfruit of his eye. Until finally he is done draining his victim.. Slowly, copper-chased pinions unfurl, glinting in the thick Istan sun as Loketh postures fetchingly. A crouch, and he is quite ready to ascend as soon as the siren song gold finds the skies too tantalizing to resist.
Kamia starts to stumble for the path. "We should get out of the way before we get hurt" She murmers. "Tomany dragons.. I know where you'll want to be too."
Sulizath suckles at his first beast until it's paling even beneath the dark brown of it's fur. It's muzzle is nearly white when he stops, dissatisfied, and he reaches for another. His eyes have transformed to the lilac of flight-lust, and a quick tongue snakes out to catch what it can of the slight messiness around his muzzle, even as his claw neatly severs a second, smaller best from stem to stern, spilling heat onto the sands. These he tastes almost delicately, nosing at seperate parts in interest and sipping at others with a daintiness almost unbecoming of a dragon his size. But he's full, it seems, and this is just pretense - his focus is on Nalaieth, his wings rising slowly to prepare for that first, crucial downsweep that will take him into the air after her, for a second missed is a second he's not willing to surrender.
R'layn looks exasperated at Nolee's unintentional ignorance of the massacre. The cleaning crew and the workers are mostly out of the way, at least, though those attempting to actually /chase/ the fleeing creatures get a worried look. "Get out of the /way/!" The Istan calls to them, cupping his hands around his mouth. "It's dangerous! Sharding wherryheads." The latter is muttered to himself.
M'wen mutters something about bronzeriders and wine before nodding in agreement. "Might as well get some down before the real action starts, you think?" His own comment elicits a wry look before a glance is thrown across at his brown. Maxeoth seems to have grabbed himself another ovine and is blooding the kill with little care for manners, entrails spread around in a crimson arc.
Gr'din ohs at Kamia. "Uh, yeah." He starts to shunt dockworkers and beach cleaners towards the path after Kamia. "All you residents and stuff - follow, uh..." He wracks his brain for a moment and then comes up with, "Kamia! Follow Kamia!" Again: if he directs traffic and tries to ignore the quivvering bronze mountain over there watching Nalaieth, maybe he won't chase. Nevermind that he's craning his neck through the crowd to try to find Nolee.
V'ryce smirks widely, squeezing his friend close to him, his long arm now wrapped around Zi'ya's waist. "Mmm, I like it.." he murmurs to the other man, though the only person he looks at is poor Nolee. He grins at R'layn, who calls out to the dockhands, the Fortian shaking his head as the denseness of those people.
Zi'ya grins at V'ryce, his own eyes narrowing in on Nolee, Kamia, however does get a second glance, a smirk on Zi's lips at the whol ordeal.
Kamia isn't so worried about the residents, it's the riders she's trying to help, especially since most of them are already distracted.
In the air overhead, Forcefully, Nalaieth positions herself at odds to her suitors, bugling a brazzy challenge, muscles quivering as she prepares, even as the animals run wild down the beaches, tripping on each other's carcasses and dodging dragons and humans all the way. A twitch, a sneer of disdain and a shiver of her diaphanous wings, and she's aloft, arrowing straight up into the Istan sky, her flight-heat-lit form shadowed against the early afternoon sun and sparkling under the Istan drizzle.