Fallen

Writers: Clancey
Date Posted: 27th July 2008

Characters: J'darin
Description: J'darin and Hasaarth have a very bad day.
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 11, day 16 of Turn 4

J'darin

~*~
It was so early. He cracked one eye, then the other, and tried to
stumble out of his bed but didn't quite make it on the first pass.

Hasaarth was awake and staring out over his ledge with a low, subtle
snarl echoing in his throat. He knew Thread was coming today.

The snarl was enough to awaken J'darin fully and he climbed into a
warm pair of wherhide breeches and a tight shirt that would not get in
his way under his jacket. Barefoot, he moved out beside Hasaarth and
looked at his dragon for a moment.

He was beautiful, was Hasaarth. The sun was not quite up though it
would be soon, so there was little shine to his bronze hide. But he
was, in all other respects, the picture of health.

}:We will fight Thread and beat it.:{ He turned his head to his rider
and his eyes whirled with excitement and eagerness, and not a little
anger.

**As we always do, beloved.. as we always do...**

~~~

The cold of /between/ enveloped him for what seemed the hundreth time
today. Thread was falling in clumps, fast and furious. The pattern
seemed slightly off, but they were compensating well, he thought, in
every rank.

Back in the warm skies, Hasaarth hurriedly turned his head, asking for
more firestone.

Oblingingly, he fed his bronze the last of the stone in his sacks, and
sent back the call for more to the weyrlings bringing firestone today.

Another clump or five were seared from their view, and then the wind
shifted, driving Thread in a new direction. As fast as thought,
patterns were changed and the new formations were relayed from J'darin
and Hasaarth to the Wingleaders. The Weyr shifted as they were
supposed to on their commands, but it was just at that moment that a
young greenrider and her dragon appeared with more firestone sacks.

One sack was pitched to him with the ease of long practice, but it was
coming at a very bad time. Held in place by the need to replenish
firestone, Hasaarth was one wingbeat behind the rest of the Weyr in
the change brought about by the wind.

Two clumps came at them almost from nowhere, it seemed. Hasaarth
seared one from the air, turning his head nearly completely opposite
from J'darin to do so, and a brownrider nearby caught the other one
when he spied the Weyrleader above him.

But more were coming. The young greenrider threw him the second sack
of firestone and settled herself for the trip back to the Weyr, but it
wasn't fast enough. A clump larger than any they'd seen so far,
trailing strands of Thread for a dragonlength, came right at the young
greenrider and her dragon. It would hit them before they could get
/between/, or so it seemed to the Weyrleader.

Hasaarth saw and moved without instruction from his rider. The pair
vanished unharmed, no doubt back to the Weyr, but Hasaarth was out of
position now. He was able to sear the clump from sight, but three
thick, pulsing filaments of Thread that were behind the clump and
blocked from view landed sizzling on J'darin's right arm, right leg,
and Hasaarth's right wing.

In disbelief, J'darin, who must have thought they were invincible,
managed a message to K'hetah before blazing cold seared the Thread
from their bodies. Moments later, he swore as they came out /between/
only a short space from where they'd vanished. Falling into more
Thread. The bronze was unable to fly and listed badly to the side.

Hasaarth was falling from the sky, but he wanted to fight Thread. He
could not be kept from it.

**HOME! HASAARTH! WE MUST GO HOME!** He yelled mentally. And the
cold of /between/ caught them again, and then the familiar outline of
Dolphin Cove Weyr formed about them as they dropped like stones to the
ground below. It (the ground)looked much harder than he had ever
thought, and his arm and leg were burning, it felt, from the outside
in.

He had time to be grateful that dragons could lift as much as they
thought they could lift, then the sound of wings was heard, and
swearing, and they hit the weyrbowl as hard as he feared. Hasaarth had
managed to steer some, but had been unable to extend his right wing to
slow their fall enough. It had been up to the dragons on either side
to bring them to the ground safely.

The pain - his and Hasaarth's - knocked him unconscious then, or else
he would have added his own swear words to the others he heard.

~*~

Last updated on the July 28th 2008

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