[EVENT] One Last Rise - Sivarith

Both B'lor and Imahyth were still sore about losing Radanth's Flight. B'lor knew that his dragon had only reacted on instinct, but if he hadn't been distracted by Sivarith, he was sure that Imahyth would have won. Now all his flirting with Roux had gone to nothing and he was probably going to have to watch Roux and his Wingsecond making lovey-dovey eyes at each other during Wing training. So when Sivarith took the skies both bronze and rider were ready to rise to the challenge and repair their bruised egos.

Beautiful, shining Sivarith, I will chase you until I can fly no more![/color] Imahyth called dramatically as he rose into the air after Sivarith. It felt so good to be in the air again, chasing a worthy gold instead of a tricky green.

B'lor, meanwhile, made his way to the Flight room to join Sorelle and the other suitors. Sorelle was quite a bit older than him, but that wouldn't matter once the Flight got underway. And some things got better with age.

Morisath's wings fidgeted as K'rill oiled a spot rubbed raw by a break in the harness during flight. He frowned, and stroked the hide.

"There," he murmured. "You're done. Does it feel alright?"

'Can you feel it,' the dragon responded, 'the Flightlust building?

K'rill frowned, and crossed his arms, closing his eyes. A brief, amused, surprised smile broke his frown, "Why, yes. I do. Who is it?"

'Sivarith. The old one Rises.'

He blinked in surprise, the smile dropping off his face. 'A Gold flight?" The frown returned. "This is what we've been training for," he responded, dubiously. "Fly, and fly her well."

Without waiting for further word, Morisath lunged into the air, muscles bunching together, dragging him into the sky, clawing for altitude.

He couldn't slow down. He had to be aggressive. -Very- aggressive.

Laughing, and smiling, K'rill trotted toward the Flight Room, feeling the flow of passion like a tide, rising throughout his body, giving his step a slight quickening.

"Now if that isn't a lovely thing... Two for two, shall we?" He commented, to no one in particular, and laughed all the louder for it.

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"Beautiful, shining Sivarith, I will chase you until I can fly no more!"

"And I will continue to Rise long after you are done," Sivarith called, haughtily, taunting the Bronze.

"Golden Sivarith. Beautiful Sivarith." G'nir's Bronze continued his complimentary commentary as he flew and Sivarith arched her neck slightly for a second in hubris.

Sivarith also detected Tonuth and Morisath flying valiantly in the mix. Historically and genetically, the odds were against them from the start. She bugled to them all, her call the same as the call of her anscestors. Primal and glorious, meant to lure, encourage, and spur them all upward.

She banked sharply to the right, then continued her ascent. Unfortunately, her Rise had been unexpected, and she had not been forbidden to gorge herself on flesh beforehand. As such, she was slower than a younger, more prepared Queen could be. Sivarith knew her clutch would be small if she did not push herself higher to ensure a longer mating fall.

"Is there none worthy of me," she teased as she rose higher.

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They had both taken a back seat to the goings on of the Weyr. The spotlight was for those with something to prove. R'gant and Xanith were not here to prove anything or please anyone but themselves. It had taken a long time to gain the confidence they both possessed and with such a high position in the Weyr neither of them thought they needed to do more than do their job well and keep a level head while doing so.

However, flightlust tested them both.

R'gant was resting in his chamber when Xanith's less than appropriate thoughts fluttered through him, causing him to rise from his bed and leave his weyr at a hastened run. Had he been but a few seconds slower he would have missed Xanith taking flight. Large bronze wings cut through the still air like a blade. The force of the wind caused large ripples in the bowl water, ripples that continued to rise and fall long after Xanith left his perch in the bowl and took flight, his target a bright, golden star amongst the clouds.

Sivarith.

R'gant knew how much Xanith wanted this and he'd be fooling himself if he said he did not want this as well. To ride a gold...well, their position as wingsecond to the Weyrleader was an honor, but nothing could surpass the immense pleasure they'd both experience if he managed to capture Sivarith too.

R'gant watched him until he moved out of sight. So enthralled by the excitement of it all, he had ignored his own longing. Filled to the brim with Xanith's need, now entirely his own, R'gant made his way to the flightroom and found that he was amongst a gang of other men whose intentions could not have been more clear.

Hands clenched at his side, he stood with his back against the wall. His eyes were closed in concentration as he willed Xanith higher, faster after his Gold. 'Take her Xanith. Don't let her get away.'

Xanith roared, his large eyes focused on Silvarith who taunted them all. Over flowing with excitement, adrenaline, youthful determination, Xanith beat against the cool wind, his head in line with his huge body as he sped after the flirtatious gold. Although he was among the last to rise, he out flew the browns with ease, drawing close to Imahyth's tail until they were neck in neck.

While others chose to charm Sivarith with flattery, Xanith chose an alternative method to capture her interest---seduction.

"Why so coy, dearest Sivarith? He cooed as he dashed through the sky in her wake. "You fly as if you do not wish to partake in what I have to offer you. Allow me to fly you and you will not be disappointed." He growled then, his enormous heart beating violently against his ribs as he soared after the golden gazelle. She would be his and his alone.

R'gant shifted where he stood, his lips curved upward at Xanith's words. 'Don't let your head get too big, Xanith. It may slow you down.' R'gant fleetingly looked around the room at the other men, yet his focus was on Sorelle; his mind filled with thoughts that, until the Gold's flight, had been for Ceinwen alone.

As she rose higher, Sivarith saw Imahyth move slightly, finding a thermal and rising faster though he exerted no energy. While she appreciated the intelligent, learned behavior, she didn't let on that it impressed her at all.

Then, Xanith exploded onto the scene, chewing up airspace with a vengeance. His offerings were not in praise of her, but of himself.

"Vain Xanith," she shouted, "prove your words by your actions, and you may very well have me." She gave her body an extra undulation of enticement as the distance between Xanith and Imahyth became smaller and smaller, with Eoralth not out of the picture, either.

Morisath called to her again. The brave brown refused to give up and he was just slightly behind the pair of bronzes. She had lost sight of Tonuth.

In the flight room, Sorelle's body moved seductively, slowly and her hands traced the contours of her small, lithe form. Her lips were parted slightly; her eyes half-closed with the desire of the flightlust as Sivarith got closer to choosing. Already, she yearned to take someone, anyone, but it was too soon. Sorelle's enthusiasm during Sivarith's flights had been legendary in her younger days. She would make someone very happy... soon.

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Imahyth's head snapped around as he heard another male enter the flight. He eyed the other bronze for a moment, then turned his gaze back to Sivarith. He would not dwell on the competition. Sivarith would make the final choice, and she was the only one he needed to impress!

He flew harder, trying to keep level with the golden Queen's pace. Imahyth wanted to make sure that the other two bronzes didn't overtake him. The browns were mostly forgotten, regardless of their actual performance. Imahyth just couldn't imagine a brown catching a Gold's eye. As Sivarith shimmied in the air, he crooned, more purple hue blending into his faceted eyes. He arched his neck, wanting to show how good his handsome figure would look alongside her sinuous golden form. He didn't speak now, he just let his flying do the talking for him.

On the ground, B'lor was grinning like a fool, both because of the woman before his own eyes and his dragon's admiration of her rider. They wanted Sorelle-Sivarith; they wanted her so bad it almost hurt.