Down you go! Just mind the sharp dragon-elbow, there.

<High Reaches Weyr> Alymath senses that Cadgwith slumbers, sexy green dragons dancing through her dreams... Mmm...

Lis drops down from Alymath's side with an exhasperated sigh, giving her lifemate a shove in the direction of the pens. "Eat up, you swivel-hipped hussy!" And with that, she's stomping over to the edge of the pens, looking fairly murderous. But lo! It's Pyrene. "Morning." Mumblemumble.

<High Reaches Weyr> Alymath senses that she slumbers too, but sexy dragons of /all/ colors make their way through her dreams.... purr...

<High Reaches Weyr> Alymath senses that Jhanath presses a small whirlpool against the transparency of his shields, iron and bronze and copper all amixed. Through the diamante, a javelin of need launches towards Alymath. Wake up. /Wake up./

<High Reaches Weyr> Alymath senses that she is awake, actually, and feeding. Blood. Mm-mmm!

Pyrene leans against the railing, idly watching the herdbeasts stampede from Aly while she perspires. "Morning, Lis..." she sighs. "Ugh. Why does it have to be so hot on the Sands?" Well, she /knows/ why... but... She's fat and sweaty.

Alymath chases a fat buck with primal hunger, her keening schreeches audible in the larger part of the Weyr. *snap* *crackle* *hiss* *dribble* Mm, food!

Lis joins Pyrene in leaning on the railing, black rainclouds figuratively gathering over her head and hooded brow. "Do you want the long answer, or the short?" she asks, each of Alymath's sound effects vicariously enjoyed. Too bad her food is cooked.

"If they both add up to because of volcanic stuff and the eggs need it, I'll skip them, thanks..." Pyrene mutters. "What's eating you anyway? At least you don't have to suffer it."

Alymath digs with her claws in the poor buck, still alive and writhing in pain and agony, and /fear/! Mmm, smell the fear! Entrails fly about her head, one long object, looking suspiciously like the lower part of a bowel, landing around her neckridge like a bizarre necklace.

"Nothing," Lis replies, clammming up into a long silence afterwards in which only Alymath's grotesque feeding noises filling up the silence. "Aw, I'm going to have to clean that up, afterwards..." the rider groans, breaking the quiet.

"Nothing? That means something." Pyrene is so wise. "You and D'renn had a bust-up? You know he's a sucker for you Lis... He'll come around, and so will you, because you're a soft touch."

Alymath cleans it up herself, thank you very much. Nothing must go to waste, so the green manages to twist her head around just enough to pluck the bowel off her neck with her tongue. Ooh, watch that long, stiff, meaty thing being sucked into her mouth. Clearly, she knows a few tricks with her tongue.

Goldriders: too damned nosy for their own good. "Actually, Pyrene, it's none of your business, so I'm not going to tell you," Lis replies icily, turning away from the other woman to stare off into space.

Pyrene rolls her eyes. "I was /asking/. I thought we were friends. I told you about Gid..." for all the good it did her. Having successfully reminded herself about /that/, Pyrene becomes as morose as Lis and studies Aly's eating with a remarkable lack of nausea.

Alymath chews and chews and chews... that bowel's a bit hard to digest, so she spits it out. Tasted like crap anyway. Instead, she manages to snap a fat fowl out if its wild run across the pens, taking it into her maw and shaking it until the head starts to look as if it might fall off any second. Which it does, incidentally, the next second, allowing her to munch on it with some deliciously sounding crunches.

"You /wanted/ to tell me about Gid," Lis points out, addressing a tuft of grass half a dragonlength away. "It's /nothing/, really." Quick, change of subject time. "She really is pretty gross when she eats, isn't she?" is asked, one boot toe gouging out a growth near a fencepost.

Alymath is too sexay when she eats!

A change of subject never worked yet with Pyrene, and it doesn't now. Only mildly interested in Lis' problem before, it becomes the centre of her world now. "OK, Lis," she says, turning to face the greenrider and eye her nanny-fashion. "What happened? Who's upset you?" The old pretending to be knight in shining armour trick. Usually produces all kinds of interesting gossip.

Lis throws her hands up in exhasperation, uttering an unintelligible sound before stomping away to the next two fence posts over. She sulks into deeper silence, though in a few moments she'll go contrite and feel bad for shunning Pyrene.

Pyrene chews the inside of her cheek thoughtfully, before deciding to take the more passive role here. Instead she turns towards Alymath again, head tilted just slightly downwards and hands worrying at each other sadly. Forlorn she is. Lis is mad at her, and /all/ Pyrene did was show a little concern.

Alymath forgets about her eating as she senses that Lis is in distress. Her rider is instantly approached - and it'd be so darn cute if it wasn't for the lung that's stuck on her leftmost talon there on the left foot.

Lis looks over at Pyrene with a sudden pang of heartsickness, but Alymath's approach - and warning stench - distracts her. "Oowaf! You're definately going to lake, missy, to get a bath," she declares.

You think to Alymath, >> Are you all finished here, dearish? You do really reek like spoiled meat. <<

Alymath halts. A /bath/?! Aww, and now she just made sure she'd be able to savor this meal all day! The next 7 days! Sulk. And she was going to save that lung for a late night snack.

You sense Alymath huffs mentally. << You are talking about my food. I never complain about your food. >> *coughcreampuffscough*

Pyrene tilts her head. "You're right... maybe I'll join you if you don't consider that too interfering." Sulk. "I just want to cool off a bit and walk around. It's too stuffy on the Sands and it's not like I get much exercise." See what Lis has reduced her to? Defending her presence in her own Weyr! And one day, it will be hers. Oh yes. It will be hers.

Alymath senses that Lis snorts in annoyance. << My food doesn't make me reek. >> Well, save those garlic dishes. << Come on. I promise to oil you extra-long afterwards. >>

Alymath croons contentedly and rubs her head against Lis - wafting a nice stench of constipated bowel Lis-and-Pyrene ways. Deal! Bath for oiling. Good stuff.

"If you want to freeze your rear off, Pyrene, that's your business. Come one, then." Rolling her eyes, Lis walks off towards the lake, firmly tugging Alymath along in her mind - after discreetly shuddering as Alymath rubs against her.

Pyrene wrinkles her nose at the state of Alymath and thanks Faranth that /her/ dragon is /much/ more elegant. Or something. At any rate, she follows Lis and Aly at a distance. She's not with them.

Lis lifts her head as she drags her sorry carcass towards the lake, apparently spotting something there and suddenly backtracking. Pyrene can take it as she will. "On second thought... I'm still in my second trimester. Let's go down to Ista where it's warm." And there's no R'han's.

Pyrene glares at Lis. "I want to be cool. And how'm I supposed to go to Ista without Cadge? Don't be ridiculous. What's wrong with the lake? R'han? He's not scary. Folds up easily when given the right persuasion." One way of putting it. "And you're not going to make me believe that that scrap of a girl really /is/ an axe murderer." She's petulant. Listen to her. There is no reason /not/ to go to the lake. really.

"You have no idea, Pyrene. No idea," Lis replies sardonically, sounding not unlike the bronzerider himself. "It's too cold here anyhow. What about Tillek? I hear the ocean's nice and brisk, and nothing beats a Keroonian bay this time of year. We can stop by my home, even, if you're inclined..." She's willing to visit her /parents/ - hidebound and straight-laced - before she'll go to the lake. Something must be up.

Pyrene folds her arms. "Fine... either you tell me or... I get Cadge to make Aly tell her." She can do it too. Hah.

Lis pauses briefly to weigh the consequences of both out, deciding finally that even if Aly /did/ know what happened, she wouldn't know enough to tell Pyrene anything important. Provided she even remembers. Lis is a terrible liar, anyhow. "G'head. See if I give a flipping wherry wing."

Alymath looks appropriately blank and ditzy/randy.

Alymath senses Cadgwith rouses and, clumsy with sleep, ploughs through the smaller dragon's mind. << What is wrong with your rider. What happened to her? >>

Pyrene just folds her arms, glares at Lis and waits.

Alymath thinks to you, << I bespoke Cadgwith with: Alymath emits confusion, her smoky incense turning to a foggy haze of burned wood. << Wrong? There is nothing wrong with her. What should be wrong? >> >>

Alymath senses Cadgwith is firm, since she knows that she won't get peace if she doesn't get an answer. << Then what is wrong with the lake? >>

Lis ignores Pyrene, and Alymath, for that matter, stalking over to a fencepost to lean against it and slide down into a seated position. Eyes glaze over, and she becomes absorbed in the mental conversation of the dragons.

Alymath thinks to you, << I bespoke Cadgwith with: Alymath is still confused. << It is cold. I do not want to go bathe there. >> >>

Pyrene suddenly gives it up, glaring fiercely at Lis. "Oh, fine.... go and sulk then. that's mature." And Pyrene heads off to sulk too. Back to Cadgwith--who's going back to sleep already.

Pyrene heads out across the bowl.