Central Bowl
Seven spindles brush the clouds -- quite literally -- overhead, a jagged, spired cotillion grey-stoned majesty. The bowl from here is expansively large, extending a full half mile in both directions, and although sometimes a bit of a stretch, most of the hubs of activity can be easily observed. Hard-packed ground shows the common pathways, all of them meandering about the craggy bunch of boulders that form a centerpiece: carven, hand-worn and foothold-full, it gives a bit of centerpoint to the otherwise vast emptiness of the area.
To the north lie the hatching grounds and leadership weyrs, while the lows of herdbeasts mark the feeding pens to the northeast. A flurry of ever-present activity marks the living caverns to the west, and another time-traveled path the ground weyrs just adjacent to the southwest. Southeast, a glint of blue shows the lake, glittering and cold.
  It is a summer midmorning.
Clinging to footholds in the boulder-mound are sixteen firelizards.
Brown Revnath, blue Lainnoth, green Yshanth, brown Fallanth, green Zaqith, green Zizth, green Alymath, and bronze Nylanth are here.
You see a wagonmaster, Cattysaur, Box, Dustina, Wagon Two, and Gigi here.
Obvious exits:
Pens     Northern Bowl     Caverns     Ground Weyrs     Lakeside     Guards HQ

Lis walks in.

Above,  Trydanth drops in from Spires' height.
Above,  Trydanth drops down towards the Bowl.
Trydanth drops in from above, landing with a light *thud*.

Above,  Jakith takes off from Jakith's ledge.
Above,  Jakith drops down towards the Bowl.
Jakith drops in from above, landing with a light *thud*.

Above,  Kelitath heads in from above the lake.
Above,  Kelitath drops down towards the Bowl.
Kelitath drops in from above, landing with a light *thud*.

Undoing the riding straps, Ciera slides down from Jakith's back with the assistance of a dark forearm.

Above,  Chanticoth circles in from the Training Grounds.
Above,  Chanticoth drops down towards the Bowl.
Chanticoth drops in from above, landing with a light *thud*.

Trydanth lands with a soft-footed thud, wings snapping back to provide that smooth, suave, and yes, /manly/ landing.

Ilare swings a leg over Chanticoth's neck and slides down his shoulder, landing gently on the ground.

G'deon walks in.

Above,  Dsalth heads in from above the lake.
Above,  Dsalth drops down towards the Bowl.
Dsalth drops in from above, landing with a light *thud*.

Alymath coils about her rider, growling possesively at the influx of males. Her wedge head darts forth, making a few menacing snaps in the direction of limbs and tails. Meanwhile, Lis lounges happily in the crook formed by Alymath's hind paw against her leg, in possession of a skin of wine and not much else.

Oh /shards/.  Hasn't she thought to.. well.. get dressed yet?   Pushing her hair from her eyes as she dismounts, landing by her dragon's shoulder, Ilare averts her eyes, ignoring the proddy.. um.. greenrider, and concentrating on the green /dragon/.  She's.. glowing.  Oh dear.

G'deon walks in casually, nodding to the others before eyeing Lis... a bit warily at that.  "Um... good morning," he offers, rolling up the hides in his hands and sticking them in a side pocket on his trousers.

Trydanth, an old hat at soothing Alymath's proddy problems, swaggers -- if a dragon can swagger, at least -- forward and crouches down next to the green, murmuring a quiet little croon in the back of his throat.

Spi perches on a boulder, eyeing this big... glowy... *green* creature. And the human. Human doesn't look quite right - wrong color for out here - and the young bronze firelizard is puzzled over it.

Dsalth is the one to arrive at the scene, dipping from one side to the other before backwinging and dropping all four limbs onto the ground in a quite uncomfortable landing. But who could escort a whining rider all the way? P'rru is quickly dropped off and ignored, auburn tail curling around his body as this old and large brown /stares/ upon a familiar glow.

Ciera slides down to the ground, turns... and drops her jaw as her eyes fall on Lis. Glowing Alymath plus naked Lis equals something she probably doesn't want to get mixed up in. "Uh..." The bluerider pauses, visibly considering the possibility of convincing Jakith to go back to their weyr...

Good?  There's /nothing/ good about this morning.  Not in Ilare's eyes at least.  But at least G'deon is a safe distraction.  Nothing proddy about him is there?  Waving, she makes her way over, trying to pretend there isn't a whole horde of dragons peering at the glowy moody green over there.  "Hey Gids.."

Pia steps out from the Weyr's living caverns.

Chanticoth's wings rustle as he sits back on his haunches, whirling eyes resting on the brightly glowing lamp... erm... dragon. Well, she's certainly glowing, so Chanti can be forgiven for making that particular connection. Even the tail is emphasised by being so... glowy. And such a lovely sleek tail too... eyes rove over said tail of their own free will.

G'deon is still glancing at Lis from time to time, a confused frown on his face as he turns to nod to Ilare.  "Hey, Ilare.  How are you?" he asks, turning so he can politely avert his eyes from the mentioned greenrider.

Enter Pia, stage left. "What's going on...." But one look at glowing Alymath and naked (naked?!) Lis sends the color draining from Pia's angled features. "Oh, no... not again..." moans the Vintner miserably.

Lis blinks in mild confusion at all the people surrounding her, more than happy to let Alymath protect her from their harmful, distracting influence. A rumble comes from the green, her tail swishing out from it's guarding arc to sweep a clear path - and woe to the people or males that are in her line of fire. "What? Now??" she demands whinily of her dragon, simpering and generally looking pathetic.

Ilare is.. well.. Uncomfortable. And her dragon's making comments about that tail. Ugh. "Good, you?"  Brown rider's eyes are also averted from the sight of undress that is Lis, although Ilare has already been victim to that this morning. Don't ask.  Lets just say some poor miner has been traumatised for life, eh? Pia's arrival goes unnoticed.

Spi chitters wildly as an Alymath tail sweeps out. Not that he was within range. But he's rather too small to quarrel with a dragon tail and flutters a little further away to continue puzzleing.

Above,  Tantricth heads in from above the lake.
Above,  Tantricth drops down towards the Bowl.
Tantricth drops in from above, landing with a light *thud*.

G'deon laughs, a bit too nervously at that as his eyes dart to his own lifemate. "Um... fine, fine."  He turns again to frown at Lis as his mouth forms a silent, "oh."  He grins at Ilare and leans towards her.  "A bit too late to hide in your weyr...."

Dsalth was not admiring any tail, well basically his view is upon the /entire/ dragon. However, this brown is the smart one of the Wing and stays /far/ from a proddy dragon until the time comes, which will be soon, of course. Old brown lifts sorrel head and plants himself on the ground, rump giving a definate thud as it reaches the floor and wings gently folded to his dorsal sides. Now, to wait.

Undaunted by Alymath's tail-proclaimations to the contrary, Trydanth rises up on finely built hindquarters to bellow his cry of possessive lust. Electric blue hide shimmers over muscles as the dragon sits back down, display done. For now.

Nylanth is intermingled with the bustling and rustling of his clutchmates and elders of his species. Alert eyes dart around curiously as this is certainly something that he's not used to, nor sure that he wants to be a part of.

Chanticoth's not going to take time out of his staring at Alymath to take Ilare up to her weyr. Nope. If she wants to go up there, she can climb. Head tilts at the swipes of the tail. Ooh lovely movement. Yes, alright, the rest of the dragon's nice... but that lovely tail...

Tantricth glides to the Lakeside.

Ilare winces, tempted to hide her face... somehow.  "I know.." is the oft, bitter comment.  She'd known since this morning.  It's really not her day, you see. "I had to deal with.." hand waves in /her/ direction, "this morning.  Like that."  Can you guess the 'that'?  Knew you could.

S'ting walks in from the Beach.

Sulkily, Pia crosses her arms over her chest. "You'd think this was the baths by the lack of clothing here... Lis, for Faranth's sake! Have some dignity and get dressed. What would your mother say if she saw you now?" Despite former unpleasantries exchanged, the Vintner shrugs out of her cardigan and, determinedly, advances on the nekkid Lis.

Tantricth glides in from the Beach.

"Oof." Lis is surreptitiously dumped on the ground as Alymath gets up, rubbing one bare hip free of dust with a mournful wimper. Never appreciated, by anyone. As Alymath saunters away, oblivious to any male save Trydanth - who rates a quick glance and a turn of her head - the greenrider scowls afterwards and shouts, "Well, I hope you get caught by Barbarianth." Not exactly her most favorite dragon... Getting to her feet in a huff, the greenrider stalks towards the group looking like she's going to knock heads around, or at least have a few roll. "What do /you/ all want?" demands she, wielding her wineskin like a weapon.

Tantricth
This dragon is totally at one with himself, and his universe, often spending hours rigorously saluting the sun, and proving himself to be lithe enough to contort himself into any position, arielly speaking (of course). And yet, he is gifted with the size and power usually associated with a brown dragon. What stamina he has! He's the Duracel Dragon - he can go on, and on, and on, and on! His sleek cobalt dipped sides seem highlighted with flashes of blue - draggie 'go faster' stripes, and his oft chanted bugle rings out like a siren. His eyes gaze through you and out the other side as if in a permanent trance.
Tantricth is 4 Turns, 4 months, and 3 days old.
Tantricth is awake and seems alert.

Trydanth
Coiled energy rests in the tall draconic shape, electric blue shimmering wildfire over every handspan of the glossy hide. Copper-verdigris streaks wings that are deceptive in their delicacy; speed coils in haunches that tense to spring with eager grace. Copper too are the sharply powerful talons, forepaws shaded with deep azure and seeming too large for the whiplash frame. Length and strength are evidenced in every shift of lean haunches, neckridges spiking skywards in sapphire splendour.
Trydanth is 25 Turns, 7 months, and 23 days old.
He is 54 feet (16m) long, with a wingspan of 90 feet (27m).
Trydanth seems to be listening.

Jakith does his patented leer-growl, snapping his tail and staring at Alymath intently. Back hunched and wings half-extended, he keeps a goodly distance. Ciera, recognizing the lack of hope for a calm morning, gathers her wits and beams at Lis. "We all want you to put some clothes on," she calls, summoning all the chipperness she can.

Pia, cardigan held before her like a shield, inches towards Lis. "You should at least /pretend/ to have some dignity," she mutters, tossing the thin sweater the remaining distance towards the green-rider. "Put that on." Tomorrow. Tomorrow she'll mock Lis.
 

G'deon turns again to peer at Lis... who's now coming straight towards them.  "Um... hello, Lis," he offers, giving a gallant try at a casual smile.  And not /quite/ succeeding.  "How are you feeling today?"  Okay, maybe not the best question.  He shoots another glance towards Nylanth then firmly tucks his thumbs behind his riding belt.  No touch.  Right.

S'ting swaggers into the bowl, with his dragon and chuckles wickedly raising an eyebrow as he view's Lis's state of dress. " Weeeelllll, Hellloooo! "he drawls, mischievously. if i'd known there was going to be a dress code i'd have brought my loincloth!"

Trydanth raises his head swiftly, angled wedge aimed in frank admiration towards that glowing green form.

"Yeah! What /they/ said!" calls Ilare towards the turnday suited Lis, nervousness colouring her voice.  Can she cling to G'deon? He's big, strong, and she can hide behind him without being seen.  How the heck did she get caught down here again?  Oh, yes, Chanticoth said.. Amber gaze flicks to her dragon.  A set up.  She should have known.. Sigh.  Bronzer is elbowed, eyes rolling a little at his failed attempt at casualness.  No, this /really/ isn't her day..  At least V'tor and N'sync haven't decided to join the party.

Lis catches the sweater in one hand, sneering at Pia as she tucks the skin under her arm and ties the sleeves of it around her neck like a cape. It's a concubine, it's a wench... it's Super Greenrider! "Thanks, dear," she remarks dryly in the Vinter's direction, taking a sip from her wineskin as she looks around at various faces. G'deon recieves a wink, but S'ting and Ciera only causes her to draw herself up to the extent of her height - still a head shorter than most - and turn up her nose. "No one /asked/ your opinion. Any of you."

Undaunted at her failure to protect the innocent eyes of the Weyr, Pia shakes her head. "That's not how you wear that, Lis." How to dress yourself, 101. "Put your arms through the holes and cover up... your... *ahem*." Words fail Pia at this point, as evidenced by the extremly high flush of her cheeks.

Tantricth gazes with a glazed look at the glowing green dragon and begins to twitch with excitement. all else is ignored, for this dragon knows how to concentrate on his prey....and how to achieve enlightenment!

"/You/ asked for our opinions, Lis," Ciera points out with sugary sweetness, still rooted where Jakith dropped her. "You asked what we wanted. S'not our fault if you don't like the answer..." A smirk is shot Pia-wards, the bluerider reveling in someone more uncomfortable than herself. Miseyr loves company.

G'deon takes a deep breath and waves... this time trying on that roguish grin of his which he's getting a little too good at.  "Don't worry about it, Lis, maybe you just need some food... to go with that wine."  He glances back at Ilare though and his eyes grow wide as he mouths, "Help!"

Lis crosses her arms not-so-innocently over her chest - or, rather, under it - as Pia manages to point that out. "Doesn't do too much for below that, eh?" she demands,  mouth snapping shut as she first glares at Ciera then at Alymath, who erupts with a particularly tuneful roar and descends upon the pen. Suckers. "Food. Blood. /Anything/," she grumbles sourly G'deon-wards.

Alymath> You go to the Pens.
Alymath> Pens
Alymath> Freshened breezes from the lake to the south linger with the stronger scents of herdbeast and wherry, dust and dung, that fill this ovoid enclosure. The sturdy fence sways out into the bowl, captures an outlet of clear blue lake, and, as it meets the bowl wall, grows into a stout wind-shelter replete with hay and feeding troughs; not too far above, a claw-marked series of feeding ledges lie, decorated by a few discarded and bleached-out bones.  A few clusters of green sprout, downtrodden, in the hard ground, tracked over by the stampeding of the herds.
Alymath>   It is a summer midmorning.
Alymath> To the north, you see one person.
Alymath> Brown Druseth is here.
Alymath> You see Kukalaka, Herd of Herdbeasts, and Kae here.
Alymath> Obvious exits:
Alymath> Stables     Barn     Training Grounds     Central Bowl     Beach
Alymath saunters with lanky grace, a hint of gold flashing in her steps, to the Pens.

Chanticoth gives a sexy swing of his tail, hips gyrating as he pads to the Pens.
Dsalth paces with regimental gait to the Pens.

S'ting leans on Tantricth's deep blue flank and smiles " Hey..." he announces to no one in particular in his slightly raspy voice " did I mention that I'm S'ting? and this is Tantricth"...he gestures upwards." "Did somebody mention wine? "

Nylanth stealthily saunters to the Pens.
Tantricth glides to the Pens.
Jakith stalks grumpily to the Pens.

Alymath> Nylanth follows at a distance, his long bronzen tail swishing impatiently as he hesitates, his inexperience showing loud and clear.

Trydanth shuffles to the Pens.

Ilare winces again.  Wine?  But that'll make Lis /worse/.  G'deon's look of panic is shared and brown rider shakes her head.  What to do, what to do..  Well, they don't have much of a choise but to go along with this, do they?  But, she'll be using Nylanth's rider as a shield, regardless.  S'ting is nodded at as she pulls at her jacket.  All of a sudden she feels much much colder..

Aiana steps out from the Weyr's living caverns.

"Um..." Still speechless, Pia just blushes, too caught off-guard to escape while it's still safe.

Alymath> Alymath creels, an otherworldly, ear-splitting vibrato as she descends upon the running beasts, watching them scatter before her much to her satisfaction. One is selected from the pack, having the bad choice of mind to trip over a tuffet of grass and sprawl. Pained whining joins the green's keening, decrescendoing into silence as the blood flows from one throat to the other.

Aiana had made her way past the first time without so much as a hello, as is her ususal not-so-nice way and she returns with a slice of pie in each hand, one peach and one cherry and her face showing evidence that she's just consumed blueberry.  She pauses just momentarily to belch and notice the goings on...

"Wine?" Ciera doesn't look too certain about that. "Then she'll be naked, proddy, and /drunk/. Can we at least wait until she's not in the Bowl anymore?" Grimacing expressively at whatever mental image accompanied the statment, she shudders.

Alymath> Chanticoth beats those big brown wings to fly over the scattering herdbeasts. Go on. Run. You'll only delay getting caught. Mischeivous glance is sent Aly-wards before umber wings fold quickly against his body, diving towards a particularly juicy wherry, snagging it in talons and breaking its neck as it is hauled into the air at speed, and taken away as food for the brown. Hot blood. Yummy.

Alymath> Smoothly, Trydanth leaps up, up, up in the air, and in a slick little curve, pounces down onto a hapless herdbeast, claws tangling in it's thick furred hide. Wedged muzzle buries itself into the animal's throat, with echoed slurpings merging with the dying whimpers of the beast.

And a good shield he is, too.  G'deon tries to stand just a little taller, that roguish grin of his spreading into a smile.  "Food, definitely food," though his eyes drift towards that wine skin.  Perhaps wine is a good idea...

Alymath> Dsalth is the silent type of guy, always watching from afar and attempting to stay clear of the /glowing/ green's path. That is, because, he is just /so/ smart. Sorrel head sways from right to left as mustard wings fanning out with a low groan escaping the dragon. Once stretched, the brown leaps to the air and lets out a defiant cry before dropping upon the other beasts. Well, more like a cry to get a lovely green's attention. Over here, over here! Me, watch /me/! Oh well, the blood is quickly drained from the 'beast before lifting vermillion stained maw towards the green. Red is your definately color, Alymath.

Alymath> Tantricth swishes his tail in obvious impatience, eyeing the other much larger browns and bronzes with an air of distain. Bigger? that doesn't bother him...he's just soooo much cooler and faster...and speed is what is going to count. He licks his lips as he watches his two favourite things in the world....greens and food. Combined, they are tantalising and Alymath is certainly a catch....

Alymath> Jakith rumbles and snarls, watching the swirl of herdbeasts and whatnot for several moments. Action comes in one fluid, ever-soswift motion as he launches into the air and descends with electric speed on a hapless buck. Dragging his victim to one side, he rips at the throat, continuing his monologue of growls between gulps of blood.

Lis scowls yet again, though it seems more permanent, lately, as she jiggles her skin - that which contains wine, mind you - at Ciera. "Half empty too, sweets," she coos, sucking down another mouthful or two. "You don't want me in the bowl?" coos the greenrider sweetly, making as if to head towards the living caverns to disrupt daily life in /there/.

"I can have more wine sent to the ground weyrs," Pia blurts, half coaxingly and half in desparation. "Really good wine..." Just don't go into the caverns.
Ilare doesn't want wine.  She wants to be up THERE. In the safety of her weyr.  Where Lis can't reach her.  Especially if Chanticoth.. No. Nonono, lets not even /think/ it.  "Food.. I already ate.."  And Lis was there, too. Terrorising the unsuspecting with her.. nakedness.  Hmm.. maybe the wine idea isn't so bad.. Eyes widen at Lis' question. Oh /no/. Not in the caverns again!

"Yes... yes, the ground weyrs, Lis.  That's much better," G'deon echoes Pia as he takes a few long strides towards the greenrider, an arm going out to usher her along.  "The ground weyrs would be /very/ good at this time of... day.  Yes."

Ceridwin watches all of this with quiete fascination. She knows she is simply a bystander and has no more involvement in this then a .. rock.. but it is fascinating, no doubts there.

Aiana fehs, "If'n y'all intendin' t'git drunk thar should be more drinkin and less tongue wagglin'." she licks her fingers clean, "Aintcha got nothin' with more kick to it than old wine?  If yer going to do soemthing do it right, eh?"

"Honestly?" Ciera asks. "I want you to be not proddy." So much for grammar. Eyes widen as Lis angles towards the living caverns, though, and she strides after. "Ground weyr. You're going to the ground weyr, not the living cavern. Right?"

Alymath> Again, that dart of head brings Alymath's muzzle in contact to the hindleg of another herd beast, crippling the one leg by which she can drag it back to her sanctum of bloody debauchery. Soft slurping sounds penetrate the vague silence, and other greens in the pen give her allotted space.

Brave bronzer, offering an arm to a Naked Proddy Soon-to-be-Drunk Lis.  Ilare hangs back, shooting Aiana a strange look and one of warning to Ceridwin.  Flee! Now! Please! While you're still safe!  Ila will just.. follow.  Slowly.  Away from Lis.  Safer that way, you know.

Yshanth takes off.
Above,  Yshanth takes off from Central Bowl
Above,  Yshanth circles leisurely towards the lake.

Alymath> Carefully unsnagging those lightening bright talons from the matted hair of the beast, Trydanth scans the thundering herd and pulls another into his clawed arms and sharp, greedy teeth.

Lis isn't intending to get drunk - she wants to create her own little knot of chaos and see if she can't get it to grow. "Ground weyrs... well, if you're providing the wine, Pia..." A lacivious look is shot a the vinter, crude and rutheless, before she swaggers off in that direction, hips swinging and the sweater's hem bouncing a few ineffective handspans above.

S'ting allows his eyes to undress Lis..Oh too late..."Ground weyrs sounds like a cosy place to go, Lis... and if there is more wine, well we can have a party!" he eyes the other riders standing around..."Could be fun - more wine..."
Alymath> Chanticoth's talons rip into the wherry a bit further, bringing a whole new gush of blood welling up for hungry brown jaws to fasten on. Eyes dart to Alymath even as he finishes off that beast and launches towards another food source, almost squashing it into the pen's ground as he lands on it.

Open sky is exchanged for protecting stone.

Ground Weyrs
Once a mere overhang in the bowl wall, this arched stone enclave was deepened in aeons past by who-knows-what to provide shelter for injured dragons and their mates. Craggy walls loom high to dwarf rider and dragon alike, sloping back from the weather-open entrance to a low opening into the infirmary itself. Stacked under rock-shaded cover are low supply chests of sturdy timber, flanked with long tables. Other openings are shaded by wherhide curtains, leading to smaller, private caverns for the dragonhealers' patients.
  It is a summer midmorning.
Settled on rough-hewn ledge are Bow-Wow, Urja, and Jolinar.
You see Generic Egg Pot here.
You notice Saoirse and Eranel asleep here.
Obvious exits:
Bowl     Inner Ground Weyr     Infirmary

Alymath> Jakith looks up from his first buck, darting forward along the ground this time to down a careless wherry. Muzzle striped with red, he sets in on this new beats with less attention, whirling eyes focused on Alymath.

G'deon comes into shelter from bowl's wide open spaces.
Ilare comes into shelter from bowl's wide open spaces.
Ciera comes into shelter from bowl's wide open spaces.
S'ting comes into shelter from bowl's wide open spaces.
Pia comes into shelter from bowl's wide open spaces.

G'deon quickly follows after the proddy rider and the protective Vintner, a relieved smile on his face as at least one disaster is averted.  "See, Lis?  It's much better in here," he offers soothingly before turning to Pia.  "Where was that wine?"  For himself, not Lis... he's going to need it.  And soon.

Alymath> Tantricth's wide mouth begins to water and he glides out over the fields, and seeing a stocky female herd beast he swoops around suddenly suprising her and sinking his talons deep into her, begins to tear at her thrashing neck with razorlike fangs. Blood dribbles and squirts from his jaws as he sighs, his eyes firmly glued to the streak of emerald delight that is the beautious Alymath. <<Delicious..Quite delicious>>

Pia trudges in, arms full of 'skins and glasses, and cringing, looks for a place to unload and then make her escape. Fast.

Ilare does not want to be here.  Can you tell?  No?  What, not even when she lurks close to the walls, eyes locked warily on the ProddyLis.  She's /dangerous/ is that one..  Wine?  Ila is /quite/ willing to be pleasant to Pia for wine.  ProddyLis and ProddyAly and FLIGHTS are far worse than the Vinter.  Not that Ilare likes Pia, but still.  there ARE worse things in life, it seems.  "I knew I should have stayed in my weyr..."

"Weyr. Good idea. Too late now." Ciera is, apparently, talking to Ilare, though no comments were directed at the bluerider. "I think I'm going to need some of that wine." A gulp, and a glance shot at proddy-Lis confirms the thought. Lots and lots of wine.

Lis gives the ground weyrs a quick once-over as she searches for a suitable nest to perch in. Piled up furs tumble to the floor with a bat of her hand, lumped together into a carefully-arranged love nest, plucked and patted and surreptitiously dropped into. Though... between natural padding and the furs, it's not too hard of a landing. "Put the wine... right /here/, Pia," she purrs, crooking her finger at the vinter and generally staring at everyone's physical attributes.

Nervously, Pia advances, unable to run with the armful of skins, no matter how much she'd like to. "Ok, I'm just gonna put this here," she utters slowly, in tones used to soothe savage animals, "and then I'm gonna back up and leave you all to... um... well... whatever."

S'nug comes into shelter from bowl's wide open spaces.

S'ting saunters languidly in after the other riders...he takes his time, watching them all intently with a sharply disinterested gaze. Then his eyes once again rove over Lis. Mmmmmmmm! Who knows what thoughts are running through his mind. His attention is caught by the quivering female brownrider and he smiles dangerously disarmingly. "Why Ilare, isn't it? Why would you want to miss all the fun?have a little wine, relaaaaax! In your weyr you'd be 'So lonely'!"

"Aye.  Never trust a brown when you know a green is proddy." A shrug echoes Ilare's dismay, especially at the fact that.. Lis is oggling her? Oh no.. S'ting is given a rather nasty look at his carefree comment.  "Well, /D'UH/."  Growl. That's the whole point in hiding?

Lis pouts after Pia, rather enjoying the challenge the surly, prudish crafter presents. "Aw, Pia... you really should stick around. I think it'd be an eye-opening experience." It'd probably open other things as well... The furs next to her are patted enticingly, though S'ting is starting to get a coquettish eyeing. He's got the right idea...

Alymath> Late, but still snuggly! Yes. Foofth foofs his way on into the pens, sneaking. Sneaking. Sneaking. Daintily, he sinks his teeth into the vein of a cuddly-wuddly herdbeast, lapping up the hot blood so merrily. This little blue isn't blowing his own horn, but he can sure blood.

"Oof! Sorry I'm late," laments S'nug, coming in on the tail ends of Lis' comments, then eyeing her on the skins. "Starting a bit early, aren't we, Lis?" he questions, though, from the oggling that the greenrider gets, the bluerider doesn't seem to mind all that much. Late, but leering.

Alymath> Alymath can sense it - that urge, that critical temperature of lust - and she boils like an overheated pot. Bursting to the air with a sudden snap of wings, her sails fill as she scoops and steps gracefully higher, circling up a stairway to heaven.
 

Alymath> Up up up! Wings beat to lift you up out of the dusty pens.
Alymath> Above the Feeding Pens
Alymath> Wayward breezes carry the mixed scent of herdbeast and wherry from below, occasionally fusing with the salty odor of the ocean from afar. Spires overlook and shadow the pens below, often blanketing the scythed, claw-cut ledges used for feeding. Thermals, unusually steady for this area, keep that scent aloft and ever-present, growing stronger as they descend to the feeding grounds below.
Alymath>   It is a summer midmorning.
Alymath> Gliding around is Chiernathe.
Alymath> Brown Sevareth and green Siulth are here.
Alymath> Obvious exits:
Alymath> Up     Pens     Weyrling Air     Above the Lake     Above the Bowl     Ledges

Alymath> Trydanth bursts up from the dust below.
Alymath> Foofth bursts up from the dust below.
Alymath> Chanticoth bursts up from the dust below.
Alymath> Dsalth bursts up from the dust below.
Alymath> Tantricth bursts up from the dust below.

Pia twitches visably. "Um.. I.. I really don't belong. You know, lacking the whole dragon thing." For perhaps the first time, Pia is thanking her lucky stars that she's not a rider. "So, I'm just gonna leave this here..." She starts unloading the skins from her arms, despite her obvious desire to drop them and run like the scared little bunny she is inside.

Ciera decides to skip the wine--she'd have to get too close to Lis to procure any. She slips back into a corner, still slipping in the occasional oh-so-witty comment. But other than that, she might as well not be there...

And now Ilare seems to be the only male-riding female left in the room that seems to be.. /there/.  Joy.  And the wine /had/ to stay over /there/ didn't it?  Next to Lis.  Although Ila can hardly blame Pia for wanting to drop and go.  Biting her lip, brownrider lingers against the wall, determined not to lose a single article of clothing.  Or anything else for that matter.  Why her?

Alymath> Electricity arcs, wings cupping the air to lift Trydanth's angled frame deftly into the thermals that spiral over the bowls. Every movement is charged, focused on a single conductor -- Alymath.

Lis crawls over to the crate, fixing her attention on the corruption of Pia despite the ogling she's getting from all the riders milling about. That sweater lent to her really didn't cover much, save her shoulders. Leaning heavily on the only source of wine, she purrs up at the vinter, "Oh, do stay... I'd really like to have you." They can all take that any way they want.

S'ting, seeing a wineskin in a corner looking lonely, snags it and languidly meanders over to Lis, nodding at it with his head. "Luscious lis" he drawls in an irritatingly overconfident manner. "Can I interest you in sharing some of this wine? Its an excellent vintage..." he notes taking a deep swig of it before offering it to her, and seeming to disregard the rest. he's a guy who knows what he wants and no mistake.

Alymath> Dsalth catches a good tuff of air under mustard wings which brings the large brown up and high into the sky, following the others who chase after the glowing prize as well. Auburn mixes with the sunlight in the dragon's impression to his /own/ glowing hide while tail leaping out behind the dragon to taunt opponents who linger back.

Alymath> Nylanth bursts up from the dust below.

S'nug could also edge towards the wine, and, coincidentally, Lis, but that's just a coincidence, as he said. "Canni I have some?" asks the bluerider, oh-so-innocently, smiling down at a barely clothed Lis. "You could share what you have, you know."

Alymath> Catiminith takes off from Catiminith's ledge.

Alymath> Chanticoth's wings beat, stir and stroke the air, riding thermals and pushing that brown-caramel body a little closer to that loooovely tail... ooh, he wants to be the one you need, he wants to be the one you see... Chanti slips his way through the currents, almost singing to himself as he flies towards that prize.

Alymath> Foofth foofs along, his blue wings beating to get him off the ground before he hits a pocket of air and soars. High. High. Or. Well. Sort of. He's a bit of a laggard, you know, but for Foofth, the little things are their own rewards. Soaring..below, the herd, but dedicated, he gives chase, sounding a noise of awkward desire.

Alymath> Tantricth like a flash of cobalt blue lightning in the clear noon sky, soars aloft allowing his body to barrel roll with the sheer exhilaration of flying after this delicious green...Alymath..Alymath...her name holds such promise in his sharp spiritually attuned ears. His wings powerfully pumping onward and upward easily keep up with his larger competion and he lazily executes swoops and dives in order to show them ...and the glorious green of course how truly flexible he can be...

"But.. but.. I think G'deon's getting jealous!" Grasping at straws -- and a certain nearby bronzer -- Pia offers a /far/ too bright smile. "I'd hate to take your attention off of all these--" she swallows, nervously "--fine young men who.. um.. yeah."

Alymath> Catiminith is late-late-late, spinning dizzily upward with a vaulting thrust of those color-laced sails. Once, twice: thrice he whips forward slower, less agile blues, muzzle's slight curl the only acknowledgement of energy spent.

Ooh. Lis gets to give out the wine - it's just like Halloween, except the trick-or-treaters are all grown up. A heavy skin is lifte from the pile, its mates slithering around in its absence as she lobs it S'nug-wards. "Knock yourself out!" she calls - or it will. S'ting is eyed for a long time, up and down, before she decides, "Sure. Have a seat." Or a sprawl, or whatever it is you do on a mass of sleeping furs in the middle of the ground weyrs.

Not only that, but the trick-or-treaters are looking for a bit more of a treat than just wine. S'nug giggles and grabs the wine, drinking it down and then offering it towards Ilare. "Want some?" he queries, giving her a leer, just in the spirit of the moment.

G'deon hangs back, lower lip bit lightly in indecision.  He frowns at Pia, then glances around.  Finally though he does take a few steps over.  Careful, slow steps.  "Perhaps just... a little wine."  He throws a look S'nug-wards.

Ilare growls from her... corner. Yes.  She is NOT male!  She just happens to be lifemated to one!  Really! Can't Pia tell the difference?  Shards and shells.. The 'sprawl' is eyed, and avoided.  There's a VERY good reason she's positioned furniture between herself and practically all the others present - can you guess what it might be?  And her human shield is lurking over /there/.  A blessing really, when you think about it - all the better for G'deon (or one of the other riders) to distract Lis instead of attention falling on her, right?

See, Pia did Ilare a favor! The last of the wine skins is plopped gently onto the floor by the Vintner's shaking hand. "Ok... there. All set." And, then the stupid girl asks, "Need anything else?"

Alymath> Nylanth hangs in the back of the pack, his quickly whirling eyes honed in on the glowing green in front of him. He begins to speed up, climbing higher and higher in the air, but still well-behind Alymath.

Alymath> Alymath sails serenly ahead of the crowd, navigating the currents and eddies of air with uncanny ability. Powerful beats of large wings give her the momentum for the loops and corkscrews she pulls off, diving dangerously low towards the disorderly traffic of dragons going about their daily bussiness before angling spars and rocketing upwards just as soon as she'd dropped.

S'ting's eyes flicker for an instant allowing slight boredom to creep into his voice as he swings the arm bearing the wineskin in S'nug's direction. "Of course...there is plenty for all of us. Right Ilare?" he favours the girl with a salacious wink. "Loosen up honey...really!" Throwing himself down onto the furs near Lis, he sprawls on one elbow and grabs another skin without asking. "So Lis - babe...come here often? I love flights....you just get soooo much more excited with 'every breath you take'...don't you find?

Alymath> Foofth is sort of slow to begin with and is riding the tides for all he's worth, almost just trying to hang on, rather than actually chase at the moment. Aly zooms down in front of him, leading to a rather surprised bugle from the bule, but then he hits a pocket of air and lofting upwards towards the Green Rocket that he covets so.

Alymath> Streaked with static energy, Trydanth avoids both loops and rolls, in essence simply persuing straight rather than indulging in exhausting fancywork. The dive, however, has the blue tight-winged, following lithely before curving out of the dive and back up in narrow-minded persuit.

"You," Lis informs Pia coquettishly, voice gone sultry as she peers up through her lashes at the vinter. She's got to get her sweater back somehow, no? S'ting is eyed lazily, his babble earning a soft smile on her face as she slumps against the rough crate, fingers drumming against her hip. Ilare is sent another smug glance, which sours just a little as she watches G'deon. Grrr. She saw him first, technically.

Alymath> Nylanth doesn't deviate from his previous plan, though his head swings to follow as Alymath plunges downward then rockets up again. He angles a little farther, whirling eyes pin-pointed on that glowing prize.

Alymath> Chanticoth sinuously twists his neck, altering the strokes of his wings to take him in Alymath's new direction, having resisted the urge to follow her down. Push it along, right to the top, and brown sashays in his own almost gyrating manner towards the tail, and the dragon attached to it.

Alymath> Dsalth watches the luminous green's antics with amusement, his own large wings beating slowly and catching the air to bring him up to a glide to save energy. Above and below and then stretching out wings with a few more flaps, this brown is old enough to have learned quite a few tricks from all the chases he has been to. Radiant and lovely, all in one this green's lucid form is just /gorgeous/.

Glare.  She's NOT here.  Ilare's just part of the wall you know.  A nice blue-leathers-wearing piece of human wall.  Not here. At all. "Shut up," is shot in snarky response to S'nug, amber flaring gold.  Not in a good way.  And she doesn't have to loosen up if she doesn't want to.  Chan can live la vida loca all he wants, and Lis can be smug as the feline that ate a wherry chick, Ilare is staying over /here/.

Alymath> Tantricth pants slightly...out of breath? Not at all...but the sight of Alymath's aeriel gymnastics just drives him wild! Forcing his wing sails to exercise with extra vigour, he whooshes through the wispy clouds, almost like a 'Spirit in the material world'. Watching her from above he tries to calculate what her next move will be...so that he can be right by her side when she makes it....<<Alymath!!!>>

Alymath> Catiminith curls, for a moment, back, wings missing a second's beat before he rockets past an unwary brown. Green...green...green is followed, persued, paintball-caught purple-blue a slick weave of color and motion as the young dragon weaves amidst pursuers, closer to the glowing green target.

"Hmph," says S'nug as he slips down on the other side of Lis in the furs, sprawling languidly and taking a pull from his wineskin. "Be that way, then," he grumps at Ilare, then turning his attention back towards Lis. "Getting all comfy, I guess?"

"G'deon," Pia protests weakly. He's the only male she knows in the room, and the one she will willingly toss to Lis in order to escape. "He's much more entertaining than I could be."

G'deon snatches up a wineskin and opens it, taking a long pull.  He winces slightly at the taste, muttering that it's so much better stored in glass.  And he would know, correct?  He watches Lis for a long moment, and gives an uncomfortable shrug as the green rider's gaze turns sour.  What did he do this time?  He glances over at Ilare and tries to give her an encouraging smile as he holds out the wine skin.  "Oh, it'll be alright Ilare.  Try some of the wine...?  Wine makes everything better.  Besides, it's not like Chanticoth will catch Alymath."  Ahem.

Alymath> Up, up, up! Alymath dares to challenge the clouds themselves, causing the weyr bowl to shrink away to a troublesomely small target rather than the giant expanse it is. She stops up in high sky, twirling a few flips around her tailtip as she leaves those males so far behind...

"I will. Don't you worry."  Not that S'nug is likely to, of course.  G'deon and the wine are eyed almost as warily as the greenrider behind him.  "I'll pass, thanks," regardless of the fact wine will blunt... things. Emotions.  Everything.  She's NOT going over there.  No matter who asks her.  Arms cross Ilare's chest and hostility takes up residence in Chanticoth's rider.  "Who says Nylanth'll catch either?"

Alymath> Except Nylanth, of course, who'd been climbing all this time, planning, plotting, creating his own devious schemes, knowing full well that proddy dragons always climb to the heights before that fateful plunge, entwined like swirling clouds. His bronzen wings bring him just a little closer, though still far enough away to make changes to his plans.

Lis actually manages to look hurt, whether contriving the emotion or otherwise, as she's spurned by Pia. Her head hangs, and she settles back down into her position flanked by a pair of liscentious blueriders. The sweater is tugged around herself feebly as she falls silent, her reality becoming engulfed by Alymath's - and boy, is it chilly up there.

Alymath> Trydanth's wings flounder slightly, snapping in those high winds and failing to catch the updraft. A snarl echoes, emitted from a muzzle still painted crimson, and the dragon curves his electric blue body 'round the wind and soars upwards, albeit slightly behind the back

Alymath> Up? Up? Up? But. But. Foofth's afraid of heights? Well. Sort of. The height is a tad dizzying to the little boy blue, but he stays into the hunt, fate and his wings allowing him to catch a whuff of air, piercing the cloud cover. He twirls and beats his wings, hitting some sort of a tempo, but it's still a nervous one.

S'ting  is getting very comfy. "Hey Lis, did I mention how great it is to see you? And sooo much of you!" His body language is shockingly obvious although he still finds time to cast his dangerously seductive eyes over the other females in the room too...why not cover all eventualities...he doesn't aim to leave here without a woman on his arm if he can help it. "Looking good today Pia", he comments, ignoring S'nug's attempts at moving in on Lis. He chuckles at Ilare's nervous demeanor and notes G'deons protectiveness...not that another man on the scene has ever stopped his flirting ways.

Alymath> Chanticoth catches a thermal to bring him closer to Aly, candy-cane tail twisting hypnotically and sensuously, as if performing a little dance all of its own, tagged onto the bigger dance that is the flight. He wants to be her lover... her only latin lover... wings wiggle tantalisingly. Besides, that tail is worth a bit of showmanship for.

Alymath> Dsalth strains his wing muscles, daring to flap as much as this old brown is able to so he might soar higher and higher and reach the prize before the others. Well, if he could... Why, Alymath, you know your belly is quite lovely from this angle. Crooning warble is emitted out in the direction of the lustrous beauty and ... Dsalth is not beast but he sure is the gentleman, the one to tame the shrew. Not /too/ far from the goal now, right?

If at a loss with Lis's advances, Pia can handle a fresh male without a thought. "Dream on," she snaps at S'ting, arms snapping firmly across her chest. "You haven't got a chance."

G'deon shrugs at Ilare as he takes another swig from his wine skin, eyes roving over to Lis and ensemble.  His eyes unfocus for a moment, then a moment longer as he gives an involuntary shiver.  Good think he never changed out of his leathers.  It's /cold/ up there.

S'nug begins to breathe a little harder, be it from Foofth's dizzying heights or his luscious closeness to Lis is anyone's guess. But he's still snuggled close to the furs and to the greenrider, still drawing at his wineskin and then looking to Pia. Just a little leer.

Alymath> Catiminith's wings flare, catching a stray breeze and boosting him higher. Higher..higher...up! Up blue goes, green-traced sails scooping, shoveling, clearing a path 'midst icy-swift breeze. Oh where, oh where, has my little gal gone...

Alymath> Tantricth glances around him as he soars upwards to accompany his gilded green lily <<'Heavy cloud but no rain'>> he notes as he spirals upwards on the usefully bouyant thermals. Noises begin to emit from his throat, unbidden, growls of lust mingle with bugles of excitement. <<Fly my quicksilver beauty..you only entice me more!!>> Powering onwards and upwards his eyes become glassy as they rove over her exquisite glowing form.

Lis leaves Pia to other's efforts, her eyes closing as she melds into the essence of her and Alymath - it's downright orgasmic, or at least, it will be. Furs are drawn up like wings to her sides, foreshadowing... but what?

Ilare shivers slightly, ignoring the shrugging and the Lis and the others.. All she sees now is the flight through her dragon's eyes.  And a faint hint of groaned dismay at her dragon.  Not her day /at all/.  Slowly, she slides down the wall, back against it, knees pulling up to her chest.  View of the others is firmly obscured, and that can't be anything but a good thing.  Right?

Alymath> Alymath seems about to embark on another corkscrew before she decides losing altitude is the way to go, letting herself streak towards the ground in a dizzying, vertiginous dive. The final challenge, thrown out to those pacing males - and whoever meets it and beats it wins her as the prize.

Perhaps the wine wasn's such a good idea, as G'deon is already quite distracted without it.  He idly recaps the skin and sets it on the ground.  It simply wouldn't do to drop it on his new leathers, white no less.  He shivers again, eyes fully unfocused as he crosses his arms in front of him.  Not /quite/ a self-hug... just suddenly insecure for reason.

S'ting swigs the wine again allowing some to trickle accidentally out of the corner of his mouth.....but he doesn't care...is completely unaware in fact, for he is at one with his Tantricth as he soars and dips over mountain peaks and 'Fields of gold'. His eyes roll slightly before closing....
"for /some/ reason" that is

Alymath> Foofth slams on the brakes. Screeeeeeeeech! His big blue wings go out, trying to create drag for the poor wobbly blue dragon. But still, sheer luck, the winds, or maybe even a bit of skill is bringing him, at least he hopes, in the direction of Alymath. Maybe he can scoop up a lovely green in the process? Maybe?

Alymath> Chanticoth dances his aerial dance with flare, wiggling that body and making his hide seem to ripple sensuously with his motions. Danza con mi, Alymath. You're playing games and now you're hittin' my heart like a drum... yeah baby. A strong downsweep, and he seems to catch Aly's tail in his sight and sway from side to side with the green's own movements, fixated. Making him live her crazy life with her greenness and her glowyness and /has/ he mentioned that tail? As the countdown's getting closer, there is madness in the air. Sliding closer with his own brand of grace and a latino beat in his movements, he strives for that gorgeous tail. Can't you see him here, how can you deny?

Alymath> Soaring tight behind the pack, Trydanth angles wings open with a thunderous clap of sails and sinew, whip-thin body coiling 'round and down, down, down after Alymath, a tight helix of energy and free-falling lust. Each curve brings him closer, each twist assisting gravity in his downward trailing of his weyrmate.

Alymath> Finally, sound bubbles outward from Catiminith's throat, a faint warble overlayed by the triumpant hisssss as blue gathers strength and pushes for speed, crowing in short delight as yet another contender is felled by the whip of lengthy blue. Absentminded not, proffeseur is he: darting once with a quick, sidling motion to the left, draconic form strains amongst others in fixed persuel of green-green-green.

Alymath> Nylanth hovers suddenly, not sure what to do as Alymath spirals downwards. She's not supposed to do that without him... this was totally not in his plans! He hovers one second longer before spiraling downward. Then with a bugled screech he folds his wings to his body and plummets downwards though his prey has gone far out of reach.

Ilare seems to freeze, biting her lip as she senses her dragon make his move, (And what a move!), eyes shutting tightly.  It will /all/ be over soon.  All all all over.  Please..

Alymath> Dsalth shifts, muscles already straining and aching and his own body being pushed to the limit as he attempts to reach the green, that beauty. To take her out from the sky and to fly with her side by side-- or not. For a moment, the large and old brown appears to hesitate in mid-sky, watching a green streak pass by and towards the ground with only his instinct quickly telling him to follow. And what better way then flapping mustard and khaki wings once, arching back over himself and flipping as the final act before plunging down to his doom -- or better yet, to his prize!

S'nug crosses his fingers as Foofth goes in for the catch. Maybe he'll cathch for once and the poor Snuggly dragon won't be disconsolate. After all, he's so snuggly, shard it. And. He's heard it all of those times. That doesn't stop his flirting as he whispers into Lis' ears: "Almost there." Mrowl. Yes. Mrowl is included.

Pia, with no link to the action, glances from face to face nervously and slowly begins backing away from the group. /Something's/ going on.

Alymath> A woosh of air, a sudden vaccuum, and Alymath's thrown off course - for 'tis Dsalth's flip that's knocked her so, and she caromes into the brown with a defeated squeal that melds into a pleasured croon. How /nice/ it is to be outhunk, sometimes... And could it just be that Lis is influencing her taste in men, attracting her to the elder?

Alymath> Tantricth is flying at fever pitch now, rolling and swerving with Alymath's every move. He is 'wrapped around her finger' - will go where she goes because it is becoming obvious to him that 'every little thing she does is magic!' suddenly she drops...like a stone. The only way is up and with vicious wrenching of his pale blue wingsails and their cobalt spars, he loops the loop, not pulling out of it but allowing himself to plummet. A scream of pure uncontrollable thrill escapes his open muzzle and downwards he plunges, spiralling with elation and growling lust towards his emeraldine prey. <<Alymath....Let me capture you!>>

Lis lurches as Alymath gives her a dizzying view of the bowl from head on, crying out in one of those heart-rending vulnerable squeals, choked off in her throat as she recoils back into her own body. No controlled pouncing, this - it's a drunken, fuzzy-headed reeling. Catch the greenrider, anyone?

Alymath> Shock and dismay crinkle Trydanth's muzzle as he backwings out of his spiral, and likewise, out of the path of /his/ Alymath and another male. A bugle of frustrated hurt ripples from his muzzle and the blue drops gracelessly to the bowl below.

Alymath> Nylanth rears up mid-air, a soft trilling of defeat emanating from his bronzen muzzle. One flap, two flaps, then one more and he reels off to the side, his wings quickly taking him away from the scene of defeat.

Alymath> Nylanth loops north, risking the Weyrling Grounds' airspace.

S'nug giggles softly, even as his own blue is whuffling off into the distance, but gives S'ting a nasty little look. Next, he supposes, he shall pounce! After all, such vulnerable squeaking is a feature, not a bug, of the dear Lis. Tacking the rider, he sheds his clothes to just show how comfy they can become in the skins.

<Local> Alymath senses that Catiminith is unfazed, tiny tinkles of wonderous silver bells spriralling through his tone. << Oh, look at that. See those wherries? How pretty. And that /flower/... >> Attention returns obliviously elsewhere in the spiral down.

At the mass disrobing -- and not to mention Lis's inhuman screams, Pia flees just like the prudish little holder she really is.

Alymath> Oh, whuff. Foofth loses once more, but there's a playful cry as he wobbles down towards the much safer ground. Next time, Alymath! Next time! Sure, that's what he's been saying for the last few next times, but someday it'll come true, right? Right.

Pia leaves healers' enclave for the central bowl.

Alymath> Chanticoth almost drops several meters as his wings suddenly seem to lose energy, and a croon of disappointment escapes him. Attracted to the elders? Pfft. Aly doesn't know /what/ she's missing in the younger blokes. In Chanti's opinion anyway. Somewhat tired from the frenzied flight, he doesn't seem to comtemplate where he's going, just dropping straight down towards the bowl.

Alymath> Foofth drops into the pens.

Ilare is frozen for but a moment, then her shoulders sag, relief flooding her features.  He /didn't/ catch.  Not that he didn't deserve to, mind, but still.. Then amber eyes snap open at the squeal (squeal?), brown rider leaping to her feet.  Whatwhatwhat..?  P'rru's Dsalth caught, didn't he?  Then where is P'rru?  If he's not here.. Face pales, and she edges towards the door. Nonono, she is not sticking around.. Please don't make her?

Alymath> Dsalth drops, watching the floor grow and grow in his sight, the rushing auburn floor nearing to end this moment quickly and-- green? Rumble and croon and, such a familiar color should be treated well, his talons gripping and his wings extending-- saved. Tail /twines/ with Alymath's as croon erupts louder and warmer and... Rawr. This pair might be in the sky for some time now.

Alymath> Chanticoth just misses the gate, heading out towards the central bowl.

S'ting's hands have already begun to move....has his dragon not realised that the green has chosen? he is still bound up irretrevably...but what to fiddle with? Groping beside him his hand glances off Lis's arm. "Ahhhh" he gasps " of course it had to be me....." when all of a sudden his eyes jolt open. "Nooooo!" he growls!

Oh, they're fighting over her - how cute. Lis is too busy noticing S'nug close up to acknowledge Pia's disappearance, nor Ilare's dismay; perhaps this would be as good a time to run away as any. Then again, there's nothing quite like tasting the dark side and giving over to sins of the flesh, or some rot like that.

G'deon just seems to... wilt.  He shakes his head slightly, eyes eventually able to focus on the area at hand.  And he blinks.  "That was interesting," he comments quietly, eyes falling to the wine skin at his feet.  "Wine, that's right."  As he leans down to pick up the previously discarded skin he eyes Lis and S'nug out of the corner of his vision, then Ilare as she begins to inch towards the bowl.  He shrugs slightly and again offers the wine skin.  He laughs softly as S'ting and S'nug take advantage.  Of the situation of course.  The poor bronzer actually blushes slightly, or is it a flush.  At any rate, he's not quite sure what to make of this.

Alymath> Tantricth screeches out of the death defying plummet and narrowly missing the ground he barrel rolls out of it just in time to see Alymath and her chosen Dsalth entwined. With a snarl of ferocious envy as green as his quarry was....he disgruntledly dissappears::between::