Post by Katlyn on Jan 1, 2011 16:18:44 GMT -5
Nearly four turns and five months after hatching, the young golden Fraith had finally started to show the signs of possibly Rising. She’d gotten ever so slightly snippy towards the dragons around her, though flirty with the bronzes, and even a few browns who’d seemed to have caught her attention. No possible mate went ignored.
The relief that Ardalae had felt when she finally realized her gold had turned proddy was overwhelming. So Fraith wasn’t infertile. Proddiness meant that, at least to an extent, her gold had matured properly. Of course, whether or not there were going to be eggs was an entirely different story, but neither gold nor rider seemed to care much about that at least for now.
Those signs had been developing for nearly a sevenday though. The fact that Fraith only seemed to slightly glow, flirt, snip, or snap and never actually rose brought on new concerns. Had Authanth or Josiath ever shown their Rising signs so long before finally taking the to the skies? What if Fraith got locked into a perpetual state of proddiness, never actually Rising? Ardalae had to stop herself from those thoughts that morning as she wandered along the river that cut through the cliffs towards where the hatching caverns lay, Copper up on her shoulder ever so faithfully. Perhaps going and seeing Authanth’s clutch would help calm her rattled nerves, nerves that seemed far more rattled than normal.
Golden Fraith was perched up on the cliffs, eyes whirling slightly as she seemed to scan about the entire weyr before her, the sun finally breaking through clouds that seemed to linger. It was midday, and the sun made her already shiny hide glow even more brightly as she finally stood, rumbling quietly. Wings flared slightly before she settled them back down to her side, gaze no longer wandering but locked on the herdbeast pen. She’d eaten just the day before, but. . .
Ardalae gasped, stopping in her tracks when she felt the proddiness of her gold turn to full blown desire, feeling the queen leap from the cliff that she’d perched on and nearly divebomb one of the unsuspecting beasts. Once airborne, it was obvious that Fraith didn’t just glow from the sun’s rays, but of her own desire as well, eyes whirling more vividly as it became clear that she was, finally, four turns and five months after hatching, Rising for her maiden flight.
Ardalae had been at the Weyr long enough to recognize the feeling of a goldflight. She’d been there for Authanth’s flights, and Josiath’s too. The feeling was unmistakable. But when it was one’s dragon, one’s own gold who was Rising, the feeling was far more vivid and strong, and trying to just process through that took her a few moments. By the time she’d gotten her shock and feelings under control, Fraith had pinned her first kill and was tearing into it.
((NO! Fraith!! You must blood it only. Don’t eat, don’t gorge!)) she instructed from where she stood, trying to gain control of the young gold who wanted nothing more than to feel the warm meat and blood going down her throat. The orders were shouted mentally again, and there was an emphasis behind them that made the gold stop before she took her first bite. Hers had never steered her wrong before. Even in the flight lust, that was only just now starting to truly grow, Fraith knew that, and she obeyed, finishing off the one beast quickly before moving to another, and then a third.
That left Ardalae to stand by the river where she was, keeping tight control of her young queen. Copper trilled in her ears before flitting between to the Island where Kolteya and others lived. As if the weyr didn’t know it already, he was there to proclaim that Fraith was finally rising. Of course, he’d left His without her eyes to find her way to the flight weyr, but she didn’t seem to care as finally, Fraith called out her challenge, and bounded to the skies. No male would easily catch her, she proclaimed. She would make certain of it. For now, the only goddess of the skies that mattered. She was certain all attention would be on her, and that was how it was supposed to be.
The relief that Ardalae had felt when she finally realized her gold had turned proddy was overwhelming. So Fraith wasn’t infertile. Proddiness meant that, at least to an extent, her gold had matured properly. Of course, whether or not there were going to be eggs was an entirely different story, but neither gold nor rider seemed to care much about that at least for now.
Those signs had been developing for nearly a sevenday though. The fact that Fraith only seemed to slightly glow, flirt, snip, or snap and never actually rose brought on new concerns. Had Authanth or Josiath ever shown their Rising signs so long before finally taking the to the skies? What if Fraith got locked into a perpetual state of proddiness, never actually Rising? Ardalae had to stop herself from those thoughts that morning as she wandered along the river that cut through the cliffs towards where the hatching caverns lay, Copper up on her shoulder ever so faithfully. Perhaps going and seeing Authanth’s clutch would help calm her rattled nerves, nerves that seemed far more rattled than normal.
Golden Fraith was perched up on the cliffs, eyes whirling slightly as she seemed to scan about the entire weyr before her, the sun finally breaking through clouds that seemed to linger. It was midday, and the sun made her already shiny hide glow even more brightly as she finally stood, rumbling quietly. Wings flared slightly before she settled them back down to her side, gaze no longer wandering but locked on the herdbeast pen. She’d eaten just the day before, but. . .
Ardalae gasped, stopping in her tracks when she felt the proddiness of her gold turn to full blown desire, feeling the queen leap from the cliff that she’d perched on and nearly divebomb one of the unsuspecting beasts. Once airborne, it was obvious that Fraith didn’t just glow from the sun’s rays, but of her own desire as well, eyes whirling more vividly as it became clear that she was, finally, four turns and five months after hatching, Rising for her maiden flight.
Ardalae had been at the Weyr long enough to recognize the feeling of a goldflight. She’d been there for Authanth’s flights, and Josiath’s too. The feeling was unmistakable. But when it was one’s dragon, one’s own gold who was Rising, the feeling was far more vivid and strong, and trying to just process through that took her a few moments. By the time she’d gotten her shock and feelings under control, Fraith had pinned her first kill and was tearing into it.
((NO! Fraith!! You must blood it only. Don’t eat, don’t gorge!)) she instructed from where she stood, trying to gain control of the young gold who wanted nothing more than to feel the warm meat and blood going down her throat. The orders were shouted mentally again, and there was an emphasis behind them that made the gold stop before she took her first bite. Hers had never steered her wrong before. Even in the flight lust, that was only just now starting to truly grow, Fraith knew that, and she obeyed, finishing off the one beast quickly before moving to another, and then a third.
That left Ardalae to stand by the river where she was, keeping tight control of her young queen. Copper trilled in her ears before flitting between to the Island where Kolteya and others lived. As if the weyr didn’t know it already, he was there to proclaim that Fraith was finally rising. Of course, he’d left His without her eyes to find her way to the flight weyr, but she didn’t seem to care as finally, Fraith called out her challenge, and bounded to the skies. No male would easily catch her, she proclaimed. She would make certain of it. For now, the only goddess of the skies that mattered. She was certain all attention would be on her, and that was how it was supposed to be.
