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New place, time to race; Hamask's run
Topic Started: Oct 18 2015, 09:27 PM (589 Views)
Iradial
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MEDIOCRE
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Even at night, the ocean was never quiet, and it wasn't until she heard the sound of waves crashing against the shore for the first time in turns that Hama realized how much she missed it. That alone had made settling in South much easier. The cool breeze and the salty air, the crying of sea wherries—it was just like home. The dense jungle and the white sandy beaches were new, but the sea—ah, the sea was the same—warmer, perhaps, but it sang the same whispering, roaring song.

Hama meandered along the beach, staring out across the vast ocean. Somewhere across it was the little seahold where she had grown up; somewhere beyond the horizon. All that could be seen were stars among the illimitable dark, and the two moons, their bright reflections fractured on the restless water. Still, she knew it was there, and that was a comfort.

"I think we'll like it here, Hamask," she murmured. "Feels a lot like home." The green tread lightly beside her, though she showed little interest in the waves. Her eyes, glowing bright in the darkness, strayed often to the jungle; Hama saw that they were flecked with red and orange, and she frowned. "Hamask?"

Restless tonight, Hamask grumbled. Want to explore. Want to see things. She paused, staring into the leafy darkness, adding quietly, Want to run.

"Well, I share your sentiments, but exploring is going to have to wait. We have a hold to build first. And after our last adventure inland, I'm not too keen on going in there alone."

Hamask snorted in distaste. The scratches on her side had healed considerably since the feline attack, but they were still tender. Smelly beasts not scare Hamask.

"Oh, I know," Hama said. "You're fearless." She patted her wher affectionately. "Nevertheless. Smelly beasts can do some damage. Sorry Hamask, no exploring tonight."

Hamask pulled away, her upper lip curling back over her teeth. Hama recoiled as if she had been stung. Want to run! she barked and began pacing.

"Shards! Hamask! Don't growl at me like that." Hama scowled to mask a deeper sense of hurt as the green's eyes flared red. Hamask had never snapped at her like that before. "What is wrong with you tonight?" Hamask ignored her, prowling closer to the jungle. Hama started after her, then stopped short; pulled a hand over her eyes. "Oh, feckin'—you want to run?"

Yes! Then Hamask threw her head back and let loose a call that made Hama wince, then groan.

"Shard it, Hamask, this is not a good time!"

Is too a good time! Hamask wheeled to face her, her teeth bared in a kind of macabre wherish grin. Lots of room here, room to go, go, go!

"At least stay in the cove!"

Will not stay in little cove! the wher replied, still pacing, tossing her head about in search of her suitors. She howled again, and the cry echoed off the cliffs. Then, sensing warm bodies that Hama could not see, she turned and fled into the night, heedless of her handler's shouting protests.

"Shards! Hamask!" Hama dashed after her in a desperate burst, but halted shortly, cursing under her breath at the futility of it. Hamask was gone.

Do not worry, Hama, came her teasing voice, sing-song now that her energy had found an outlet and her good mood returned. Hamask will not be alone!

O'zen : Bronze Lenth
Lowen : Beryllium Lerriloth
Jerund : Brown Jerusk
Hama : Green Hamask
Eevai : Garnet Iopeth
Sh'ol : Graphite Hellioth
Kh'sev : Grey Saiyeth
Bervaidi : Blue Bervask
Syrsha : Brown Kalayth
Rosinthew : Candidate
Khola : Weyrfolk
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EbonyDusk
Timetraveler~
[align=center]Rosin & Rosk (and a bit of Poff)[/align]

Rosin had been hesitant to leave Vaioa at first. It had been his home for such a long time. But Rosk, as usual, encouraged him to at least give it a try. He wasn't going to get any stronger staying in the same place all his life. Besides, Rosk had heard the stories of the things that lived in the 'new place'. He wanted to see them for himself...and possibly conquer them. Show them who was boss. They weren't the only ones to go the day they did, there was another...a Bloodhandler and her's. Rosin didn't know where they went, probably to the jungle site. He on the other hand went to the Cove. And was loving it so far. Aside from the territorial critters living there the place was BEAUTIFUL. Even Rosk had to admire how good it looked. Poff of course was loving all the green and trees and other flying things she could communicate with. Most of them far more colorful that herself.

Evening brought activity from the other Handlers that transferred to the South. Rosin was sitting on the beach just watching the stars and the waves with a relaxed smile. Rosk had been doing the same but soon he grew tense and distracted. Poff, who had been resting on Rosk's head, had let out a startled peep before flittering to Rosin's shoulder instead. Very few things spooked Poff into leaving her favorite perch. She'd rather die than leave her Rosk even in danger. Rosin raised a confused brow and looked at Rosk who was staring very intensely at something else on the beach.

"Hey, bud...what's going on?" Rosin moved to stand up and look with squinted eyes down the beach. He could make out a figure standing there...and a larger figure standing next to it. Another wher? Well, who else would it be at that hour? What had Rosin concerned was how anxious Rosk felt, unsettled with a sort of excitement. It made Rosin squirm. It didn't help that Rosk wasn't speaking all of a sudden. Just starting to breathe deeply and heavily with his heartbeat already racing. Rosin could feel it as if it were beating in his own chest. "Rosk, seriously big guy you're kind of spooking me."

With no response, and no warning, Rosk suddenly let out a growling snarl before bolting. Rosin jumped at the suddenness of it and tried to see what he was after. The other figure that had been on the beach, it was running. And FAST. Rosin was immensely confused and turned to the one still standing on the beach and started rushing to them. His own heart now racing in time with Rosk's he was already out of breath when he got to them. He was bent over for a moment before looking up and freezing in place. Oh. Oh noooo...

It all made sense in a flash. He knew Hama. She was one of the Healers that Rosin actually really looked up to. And she had a GREEN. His realization of what was happening was accompanied with a small wave of lust finally reaching him from Rosk.

"I...uh...Hey." It was easy for him to ignore the lust. Especially since the one in front of him was a woman. If she had been a man he wouldn't have felt so incredibly awkward. "Rosk is...chasing...your...yep."

Rosk felt only the faintest prods of Rosin's discomfort but it meant very little to him at the moment. He was on a mission. A very important one that involved the splendid and delightful green he was chasing after. So far he saw no one else to compete with him...and he very much liked it that way. If anyone dared to come as a challenge he'd have to get rough. He wanted her. For himself and only himself. Rosk had never participated in a Run before but he knew what to do. Knew that he had to be the one to catch the beautiful creature leading him into the unknown. He'd catch her and their offspring would grow and conquer the South! And he'd lead them all to glory! He let out a bellow to Hamask to let her know he was there and that he accepted any challenge she wanted to throw his way.
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Tesla
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The Celibate Scientist
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The Cove was breathtaking in the daylight; construction on the Hold required long hours of hard labor, but Sankal was used to physical work, and couldn’t have been happier about the Troop’s diurnal schedule. That said, it was no easy task to get Sansk to settle down at night, no matter how tiring their work during the day. Evening fell, and the black grew eager to explore, itched to get out of the hot, crowded camp. The humidity affected Sankal very little - he'd been hot at Vaioa, he was hot here, what was the difference - but Sansk hadn't acclimated quite yet. Swimming was one thing, but all this water in the air was heavy, stifling and musty. He'd never been a demonstrative or excitable creature, but his mood had been noticeably sour following the transfer.

That said, he had one up on his handler after sunset; the shadows, thick though they fell beneath the trees, were no obstacle to his light-sensitive eyes. Sankal, on the other hand, may as well have been wearing a bag over his head; Sansk had coaxed him out towards the tree line for an after-dinner stroll, and he couldn't see a sharding thing. He trundled gracelessly after his wher, one hand pressed against Sansk's back so he wouldn't lose sight of him entirely, and though more than an hour had passed, he could only wait - fond and exasperated - for the black to have his fill of inspecting foliage, tracking scents, digging up roots. He suspected his wher was keeping an eye out for those clawed, furry creatures they'd encountered while scoping out the continent - not for altruistic reasons, but because he was spoiling for another fight. The bites and scratches from that first encounter had yet to heal completely, but so far as Sankal could tell, this didn’t deter his wher so much as it encouraged him. Sankal wasn’t thrilled about it, but he didn’t foresee a problem if they happened to stumble across one of the beasts - if they found another team of the blasted things, of course, they were heading straight back to camp, and he didn't care what Sansk had to say about it.

They hadn’t encountered anything of particular interest, however, by the time a peculiar noise drifted toward them up the beach. The pair paused, Sankal craning his neck to stare vainly out at the water; by the moons’ reflection he could easily tell the water from the beach, but couldn’t make out anything else from here. Sansk, however, seemed interested – unnervingly so, and Sankal’s hand reached for his beltknife, fear coiling in his stomach. Giant wherries, giant tunnelsnakes, giant eels – this new threat might have been anything. Something never seen or thought of on Pern before.

Long moments passed in silence, while Sansk collected his thoughts and his handler waited uneasily for him to share. Another cry echoed across the dunes, and finally he said:
Hamask runs.
“Run-? Oh.”
He wasn’t especially comforted to hear it. Sansk had been too young to Chase, the last time any of Vaioa’s greens had gone running, but he remembered being surprised at how long it had taken, how far the whers had traveled. The terrain here was unfamiliar, and the continent dangerous – more so than they probably knew – and the last thing Sankal wanted was for his wher to go tearing off into the night after Hama’s.

But Sansk wanted, and there wasn’t any stopping him.
“You can’t just leave me out here,” Sankal tried, though his voice and resolve were weak; he was resigned to his fate. Sansk wasn't paying attention, anyway, already shrugging of the hand that rested on his shoulder.
“I can’t see anything, Sansk, are you listening to me?”
Camp that way, the black responded, giving his handler an impatient nudge in the right direction. Ten minutes. Be fine. Hilfy protect you.
“Hilfy’s asleep, you tailfork, how am I supposed to-?”
But Sansk was gone, tearing off towards the beach. He didn’t howl, or bellow; there was only the whisper of the sand, kicked up by his feet. Turning about with a sigh, Sankal began the long – careful – trudge back towards the tents, and the other handlers who were no doubt gathering.

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Elmi & Garnet Basteth | Az'riel & Copper Liyanth
Singrid & Copper Wiliath | J'nai & Brown Elokith
Caylan & Grey Parath | El'jir & Blue Morrith
Savka & Blue Ripariath | N'din & Green Ingalath
J'phel & Black Davoth | I'vend & Graphite Rerioth
Sankal & Black Sansk | Avry & Blue Ask

(Plotter)
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TheCheeseWhiz
Mother of Whers
Arask was ready, this time. He had noticed the signs of a green about to Run, signs that were made more obvious by the time spent with the greenpair. He had told his Girl, of course. She'd turned that funny shade of blood. That had only been a few days ago. The blue had been restless, growing irritable and anxious, ready for a good chase. He did not stray far into the jungle during his nightly patrols with his Girl. Not that he normally would have approved of nighttime explorations. He'd seen the dangers firsthand. But his protectiveness of his Girl had, for once, been pushed to the back of his mind.

Is time. the big blue spoke abruptly, stopping in his tracks, sitting up straighter where he had been watching his Girl practice with her metal claw-sword. Red began to creep into the placid blue-green of his eyes. Nostrils flared on a blunt nose, already honing in on Hamask. And on the males who were getting close to her. Too close. A low rumbling began in his chest, rising up to escape from between bared fangs.

Ara paused mid-stroke, sword hanging in the air. Red began to creep up her neck and face, only, it wasn't from the exertion of the swordplay. Wiping her face on her forearm, she turned to give Arask a despairing look. She knew what he meant. Hamask was Running. Of course, he--they--would chase. How could they not? The mere idea of the--their--greenpair being taken by someone else was unacceptable.

That didn't mean that she wasn't any less nervous and awkward-feeling.

Arask snorted, swiveling his head back and forth as he stood. He filtered through the odors of the jungle and the cove, exhaling loudly through his mouth with each breath. Hama there. Pointing with the tip of his nose in the direction of the healer's scent, he waited until he was sure that his Girl got it. Only when he was certain that she would go did he spin around and race after the scent of the green.

It was not hard to find them. The blue wher announced himself with a hoarse, rasping roar, snapping his teeth at Rosk and Sansk. How dare they chase his Hamask?! Blazing red eyes glared, daring them to try and chase. Arask Hamask's.

Ara didn't reach the handlers as quickly as Arask reached the whers. She only had two legs, and the sword on her belt slowed her some. When she finally found them, she slowed to a walk, and her heart dropped. A strange, anxious fluttering filled her stomach as she eyed Rosin and Sankal. Jealousy wasn't something she was used to. Not at all. Neither was the surge of near-possessiveness that heated her from the inside out. Hand grasping the hilt of her sword for some measure of stability, she approached the trio, paying no heed to the men. Her eyes were on Hama, anxious and wary. She wouldn't assume. But she'd hope.

"Hey."


Wherpairs:
Malaika & Mask || Grevor & Grevosk || Ara & Arask || Skeiron & Skeisk

Dragonpairs:
K'lien & Lyeloroth || T'lia & Riftith || A'lem & Axelath || G'ist & Kormoranth || Iradin & Leoth || Ashwyn & Taryth || Danera & Vaesth || Luca & Emmeth || N'ik & Ferrivoth || T'vel & Eazarth || Evesa & Seriath || K'ai & Rynith || Toray & Itnalath || Ismene & Istoth

Unbonded:
Deklan || Eana || Malakin || Tiberis || Vosamlye
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Skyrunner
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Lovable Creampuff
Dearly Departed
[align=center]Tyrnan and Blood Tyrsk[/align]

Ever since his first run in with that parasitic, carnivorous...something nasty plant, Tyrnan had seriously second guessed his desires to help colonize the Southern continent. Who in their right mind would want to live in a place where the very plants could eat you alive and every rock and root had some bug or snake ready and waiting to eat you? Apparently Tyrnan wasn't in his right mind because he'd decided to stay anyway.

The South was a lot farther from the mines than Vaioa was.

Tyrsk's think too much, a certain blood wher burbled into his bonded's head. The blood looked up at Tyrnan--upside down since he was lying on his back--and was trying to be serious. He really was! But his bonded was upside down and that just looked funny. He chortled before rolling over with a whumph.

"Tyrsk thinks too little." Wait. Wait, what? Shards, he was mimicking his own wher's speech now. He really needed a full day's sleep. Healing was almost as bad a job as mining, really. Just a different kind of work that involved a lot more bodily fluids and crying children. It wasn't in a tunnel, though, so that made it a world better, though life so far in the South had tested Tyrnan's amateur abilities terribly. He swore he was going to get kicked out of this craft sooner rather than later.

Tyrsk think just right. With that, the blood stood up and shook sand from his hide. Tyrsk want run.

"What?" Tyrnan had to be hearing things now. Had his wher just said he wanted to do some sort of physical activity?

Tyrsk want run. Good night for run, yea?

That's when Tyrnan noticed that the blood's eyes weren't a placid blue anymore. They flecked with red, and something up the beach caught his attention. Tyrnan looked that way just to be sure...

"Oh bloody feck..."

Just like that, Tyrsk was off, following the path of the swift green as other whers practically betweened out of nowhere for how fast they arrived. The gangly, pudgy blood wasn't the fastest wher ever, and he'd never chased before but...

Just don't hurt yourself, Tyrnan managed while trying to control his breathing. They'd warned him about this, warned all the wherlings about runs. He hadn't expected the lust to hit him quite this hard. Groaning but giving his wher his full support, Tyrnan pushed himself from where he and Tyrsk had been enjoying the rare night off and followed instinct that would lead him to the Handler.

Just his luck it would be another Healer. Hama. Not that Tyrnan knew her well. At all, really. Just in passing. As with most of the others. Well now. Wasn't he out of his element. And that was saying something for a man who wasn't unfamiliar with tumbles in furs.

"Evenin'," was his oh so eloquent greeting as Tyrsk dug his claws through the sand to catch up to Rosk, Arask, Sansk, and Hamask. Oh this would be fun! A good run through the jungle and over the beach! What could be better? Tyrsk's eyes flecked with delighted green despite the tension of the moment, and his tongue lolled to one side as he panted for breath.

To think they'd almost had the night off.

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Iradial
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MEDIOCRE
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For a long moment, Hama stood there, shoulders hunched, fists clenched at her side, glaring balefully out into the darkness where Hamask had disappeared. All sorts of dangers lurking out in that wild place came to her mind, some real and some imagined, and her fear for Hamask was matched only by her anger at the green wher's determination to fling herself into it. Anger being the easier emotion to deal with, she huffed and turned on her heel, stomping as best as she could across the loose sand back toward the tents.

She had gone only a few steps before she stopped again, turning back to the jungle with another grunt of frustration. Worry for Hamask tethered her here, and though she could see nothing in the darkness, she felt an irrefusable urge to stand vigil, until her wher was safely back to her.

Absorbed as she was with her distant partner, Hama gasped at a nearby voice and wheeled around to face Rosin. Heart pounding in her chest, she took a deep breath and willed her pulse to slow as she regarded the young man, a detached part of her mind noting with annoyance the sense of lust that bloomed low in her body. Shards. She'd forgotten about this part.

"Yep," she echoed him tersely. "Miserable little wretch! She couldn't have waited a while longer."

Not that the South would ever be safe, Hama thought, watching idly as other forms emerged from the night. She thought she recognized Sankal coming toward them, and then—thank Faranth–Ara! She was about to grab the bluehandler and bolt when Tyrnan appeared, one of the more handsome men among the wher troop, and she found herself appraising him before she was even aware of the course of her thoughts. Such an attractive young man... they all were.

Then she shook her head, a near imperceptible movement, and a breathless, shaky laugh escaped her. She stepped toward Ara and put a hand on her arm.

"Get me out of here, before I invite them to join us," she said.

Well, Hamask thought elsewhere, that sounded like fun. She was certainly enjoying the company of all her suitors, and the thought of settling for just one rankled her at this point. Rosk was the largest of them, but Sansk was swift and strong, Arask already dear to her, and Tyrsk pudgy but enthusiastic.

Yowling encouragement to them, she sprinted along the beach, keeping close to the tree line where the ground was a little more solid and allowed more purchase. Here she stretched her legs, gleeful at the exertion, the wind on her face, the wild chase. Then a break in the trees caught her eye, a thin path long worn by some animal, and she lurched suddenly into the jungle to follow it.

With her speed, she lost it almost immediately, but galloped on, tearing through the underbrush and weaving between trunks and roots and vines and fallen branches, leaping over obstacles or ducking beneath them. The wild tangle of vegetation presented a delightful challenge, so unlike the sprawling emptiness of the desert she had always known. And if it challenged her, so small and quick as she was, it was sure to challenge her suitors.
O'zen : Bronze Lenth
Lowen : Beryllium Lerriloth
Jerund : Brown Jerusk
Hama : Green Hamask
Eevai : Garnet Iopeth
Sh'ol : Graphite Hellioth
Kh'sev : Grey Saiyeth
Bervaidi : Blue Bervask
Syrsha : Brown Kalayth
Rosinthew : Candidate
Khola : Weyrfolk
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EbonyDusk
Timetraveler~
Rosin did nothing more than stand there like a rock as others started arriving. He had only given Hama a curt nod when she'd responded to his words. He felt so out of place. And VERY uncomfortable. He was actually almost relieved when Ara arrived and Hama seemed visibly relieved with her presence. Rosin was more than happy with the idea of Hama going with someone else. The young man didn't even know why he was still standing there. He found the other men standing around him FAR more appealing than Hama, as great as she was, he only respected her as a Healer. Besides, he had little Poff to look out for while Rosk was busy. The little darter chirped quietly in his hands.

Meanwhile, Rosk had pushed Rosin's mind way, waaaaay down to keep him from holding him back. He hated that his coward of a Handler didn't go for the female. Didn't join him in the pleasure of spreading his seed to conquer the South. But perhaps that was best. Rosk could handle it. He could handle anything. When he was joined by the other suitors he growled and snapped at them. Especially at Arask. The arrogant little blue! How dare he get aggressive with him! Hissing dangerously he swerved to try and bodily shove Arask off the path as they all followed Hamask. It was only to be a warning. Telling the blue not to get in his way. Rosk wouldn't waste his energy on the blue otherwise. His focus went back to Hamask and he pushed with all his might to get ahead of everyone. The brilliant green jewel was so close!

Then she pulled a fast one. He almost missed it! She was veering into the Jungle and he had to skid to a near stop to keep from shooting right past. He didn't hesitate to spin himself to follow her. Oh what a challenge! Immediately he realized his great size could be his downfall in the jungle. So many obstacles in his way. Rosk wouldn't let it stop him! Not for a second! He powered through many of the obstacles, though the ones that called for a less bulky body he had to improvise and either go around or crash through completely. Vines that would try and snare him were snapped cleanly by his massive jaws as he ran through them. They didn't stand a chance. Fallen trees were lept over with surprising grace and ease. He was leaving a nearly clear path in his wake, which could be a very good thing for those that might be behind him..
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Tesla
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The Celibate Scientist
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It took Sankal some time to locate the other handlers in the dark; by the time he worked his way down the beach to Hama, she was taking a bluehandler by the arm, pulling her away. Blinking, bemused – he was having a difficult time orienting himself, given the circumstances – he cast a surreptitious glance at the others who’d made the trek out here. He didn’t quite manage to make eye contact with anyone. He felt dreadfully out of place, and more than a little uncomfortable; he’d thought, having weathered all of Hilfy’s past Flights with something resembling stoicism, that he’d be prepared whenever Sansk decided to go haring off after a lady wher. Obviously he’d been mistaken.

At least the ocean was right there. He didn’t know what he was doing - he didn’t even know what was supposed to happen at this juncture, with the whers all out wreaking havoc. But if all else failed, he supposed, he could always toddle off into the waves and throw himself in. Shells, between the humidity and the heat prickling up his spine, that didn’t even seem too unreasonable, tunnelsnakes and eels be damned.

Sansk, meanwhile, was experiencing none of his handler’s anxiety; in fact, Sankal could have been anywhere on Pern – doing anything – and the black wouldn’t have known the difference. Hamask was calling, and her other suitors were slow and stupid. Only Rosk was his match in size and strength, yet it was Arask who snapped first, ill-tempered and presumptuous. Sansk didn’t have time for either one of them.

Blithely ignoring the blue, he picked up his pace, attention fixed on the green who was calling out to them, yowling encouragement. Once they were clear of the sand, it was easier to keep up, to dig his claws in and press forward. It wasn’t every day that he had an excuse to run like this, flat-out and with such abandon. He'd happily take the opportunity to stretch his legs, and to test himself against the other males giving chase.

When Hamask swerved into the forest, however, he pumped the breaks. Rosk thundered by, buffeting him, and he swerved out of the way to avoid the others on his tail. Sansk was neither the largest nor the bulkiest wher in the South, but he'd need to take care, navigating his way through the trees. It didn't make any difference to him, if the other suitors kept closer to the green - so long as he didn't lose sight of her entirely.

Charging after the pack, he took advantage of the trail Rosk had carved through the underbrush - at first. Before long, however, he grew impatient; Hamask was winding her way between obstacles, ducking under things and careening around sharp curves. Sansk had no business attempting anything like it, and he certainly didn't have the patience for the shoving and snapping Arask and Rosk were engaged in. Leaping off the (freshly) beaten path, he turned the bulk of his focus on the terrain, dodging what hurdles he could and leaping over the ones he couldn't. Hamask was nearby - he could hear her perfectly well, even if he couldn't always see her clearly through the foilage - and he rumbled a challenge, snapping his teeth. He wouldn't howl or bark - wasn't an especially vocal creature at the best of times - but he intended to make just enough noise that she'd know he was there.

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Elmi & Garnet Basteth | Az'riel & Copper Liyanth
Singrid & Copper Wiliath | J'nai & Brown Elokith
Caylan & Grey Parath | El'jir & Blue Morrith
Savka & Blue Ripariath | N'din & Green Ingalath
J'phel & Black Davoth | I'vend & Graphite Rerioth
Sankal & Black Sansk | Avry & Blue Ask

(Plotter)
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TheCheeseWhiz
Mother of Whers
Tyrsk's arrival didn't register to Arask at first. He was far too busy focusing on the real competition: Rosk and Sansk. They were both bigger, stronger, and had much more endurance. Arask's only real advantage, logically, was speed and agility. He would use them both, and try to catch the nimble green before his muscles became too tired to go on. A flicker of satisfaction coursed through him when his Girl won her own chase. Now, he needed to. Claws digging deeper into the sand, he pushed forward, spurred on by his bonded's hot lust and his Hamask's yowling.

The ground became more solid underfoot, nearer to the trees. Arask used it to push himself even faster. Without sand giving way under his paws, his speed could really shine. Then the huge, solid mass of Rosk slammed into him, causing him to stumble and slip on damp leaves. A frustrated and startled roar escaped him, and he shook himself, glowering at the retreating back of the bronze. No stop Arask! He shot forward once more, doubling his speed to try and make up for the lost ground. Maybe, just maybe, he'd get to sink his teeth into that disrespectful--

Arask. No!

His Girl's command rankled him. He roared again, trying and failing to fight her will. He shook his head, hissing furiously at Rosk. Ahead, Hamask was turning suddenly, going into...the trees. Deep in the back of his brain, Arask knew that that was dangerous. His instincts screamed at him to stop chasing, even to try and corral the green and her suitors back to the safe beach. The mating lust won over that protectiveness. After only a moment's hesitation, he burst into the foliage after her.

Pleasure burst through him as he discovered first-hand how difficult this new path was. A log almost tripped him up, as distracted as he was by his rage, and the forest pressed in tightly all around them. This would show Rosk! If Arask was having trouble, he knew that the bigger brute, and Sansk too, would be more challenged. All he needed to worry about now was Tyrsk....

Arask will bite any who challenge, he warned his Girl, deciding then and there that he would do anything to win this race.




Another one. Ara gave Tyrnan nothing more than a cursory glance, only to make sure that he was actually there and her peripheral vision wasn't playing tricks on her. Not important. Tyrnan was handsome--handsome enough that Ara thought she would have been attracted to him if he were her type--but then Hama was touching her, and thoughts of the "competition" faded fast. She smiled down at the shorter woman, though the smile wasn't all her. It was clear that Arask was in there, too. "We wouldn't want that," she muttered, just loud enough for Hama's ears. Well, she didn't want that. Maybe, outside of the mating lust...but not now. Her mind and Arask's revolted against the very idea. Wrapping an arm around her greenhandler's shoulders and drawing her close to her side, she gave the men one final glare and gestured towards the tents.

Then there was blinding rage, and she stumbled. There was a brief flash of trees and sand and bronze. She got the impression that Rosk had shoved Arask, and Arask was furious. He wanted to attack the other wher, to bite... Arask, no! They needed all able-bodied whers here. The officer in her was logical enough to understand that, though the vengeful part of her wanted to feel his teeth sink into bronze hide.

Arask will bite any who challenge. Wonderful. Ara wondered if it was possible for the ground to open up and swallow her there, if only to save her from having to apologize to Rosin if Arask bit Rosk. Sure, wher Runs could get bloody, but Arask was better than that!


Wherpairs:
Malaika & Mask || Grevor & Grevosk || Ara & Arask || Skeiron & Skeisk

Dragonpairs:
K'lien & Lyeloroth || T'lia & Riftith || A'lem & Axelath || G'ist & Kormoranth || Iradin & Leoth || Ashwyn & Taryth || Danera & Vaesth || Luca & Emmeth || N'ik & Ferrivoth || T'vel & Eazarth || Evesa & Seriath || K'ai & Rynith || Toray & Itnalath || Ismene & Istoth

Unbonded:
Deklan || Eana || Malakin || Tiberis || Vosamlye
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The jungle was alive with noise. There were croaks and calls from the throats of exotic wherries, supported by the chittering, buzzing, chirping songs of a thousand insects. Sometimes Hamask heard the rustle of movement through the underbrush, too soft to be attributed to something as large as a wher, some creature no doubt caught unaware and making a scurrying scramble for safety. Above all, however, she heard the crash and snap of her pursuers behind her; one, at least, was forcing his way through the dense vegetation, his progress loud enough to silence the jungle's native residents or send them fleeing.

Not that Hamask's progress was silent. Small and agile though she was, the jungle was a place of abundance, and not even she could dodge every vine or drooping branch or bush that stood in her way. The difficult terrain was tiring her out quickly, and she decided with a glance backward that perhaps now was the time to choose. She needed to save some of her energy, after all.

All participating whers had shown their worth, certainly. Even with the disadvantage of their sizes, they had kept pace with her, if by different methods. Once again, the thought of picking just one of her suitors was enough to elicit displeased growl—but necessity commanded it.

It was more by whim than reason that Hamask chose. She heard a low rumble off to her right, decided enough was enough, and veered in that direction, nearly colliding with a black form that would have been invisible in the darkness, had she possessed her handler's weak eyes. As it was, she recognized Sansk at once and gave a low, approving rumble in her throat.

Go away, she said simply to the others.

Hearing this, and feeling Hamask's sudden conviction, Hama let out a gust of air.

"Drat. I had hoped Arask would win." Hama grip tightened on Ara's arm, as if to emphasize that her own choice had not changed with the outcome. Pressing close to the bluehandler, she moved towards the tents, but paused to turn a rueful smile on the three men who had gathered. "Sorry, lads. It was fun."

Then she was off, her hand dropping to encircle Ara's wrist, tugging her lover after her and giggling under her breath as Hamask's heady enthusiasm began to take hold.
O'zen : Bronze Lenth
Lowen : Beryllium Lerriloth
Jerund : Brown Jerusk
Hama : Green Hamask
Eevai : Garnet Iopeth
Sh'ol : Graphite Hellioth
Kh'sev : Grey Saiyeth
Bervaidi : Blue Bervask
Syrsha : Brown Kalayth
Rosinthew : Candidate
Khola : Weyrfolk
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