Despite the exhaustion of every male dragon in the race, despite the fact that he was nearly as big as some of his older competitors, Sanovith really didn't stand a chance. He hadn't hatched with Yllaveth, hadn't been drilling with her for months, hadn't really flown with her enough to know how she moved.
But Revel knew he'd tried-- he was observant, took his time and watched. But it cost him, when she unexpectedly turned and he lost momentum to follow.
The smokerider knew it meant he'd know what to be on the lookout for next time, though-- both in chasing the senior queen, as well as any others. This was his second queen flight, after all. And he was still so young-- they hadn't even graduated yet. He had plenty of time to chase queens. Or scarlets or greens, for that matter.
Even if he was disappointed this time.
Still trying to catch her breath as Sanovith winged his way towards the water, Revel hugged the wall and tried to stay out of the way of others leaving the flight weyr. She didn't want to catch a flailing fist or elbow or foot from those who were reacting to the flight more violently.
When a free space opened up in the doorway, she lunged through quickly and sucked in the cooler, far less charged air outside. Queenflights… were intense. And on the tail end of Threadfall, the crash was likely going to leave her not knowing which end was up.
Dare she even try to find someone to spend the night with… or just go back and check on her classmates, to see how everyone else fared?
It was a tough decision, and one she wasn't yet entirely ready to make.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
It was over too soon. It seemed as if Treyath barely had time to catch a thermal before Yllaveth was doubling back and arrowing straight for Imioth. Or so J'ril thought, struggling to focus on the flight weyr and not the sky and wind and tangling forms of titanium and brown ahead.
It took him a moment to disengage from Treyath, to completely come back to his own body. The brown had roared his disappointment at the queen and her mate, and the sound was still echoing in J'ril's ears.
It meant he hardly heard anyone else as he elbowed his way out of the flight weyr. Had he been conscious enough of who was around, he'd have been thankful he missed Casriel, though, seeing as neither of them would have taken meeting up at this point lightly. But she was otherwise, occupied, and he wasn't paying attention.
For the moment, he just wanted out. And had little thought as to what he was going to do next.
Other than be the tiniest bit thankful that, although he would have preferred Treyath win, at least it was a brown and not one of the sharding mutants. And hopeful that Sh'lor would have the guts to stick to his ideals.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Vorganth sulked as he angled back towards the canyon-- as much as the cobalt ever sulked. Of course, he would have been far more disappointed had he failed to catch Nwynth or Anarath, but that didn't mean he was okay with not catching Yllaveth.
R'fariel, himself, was far more ready to let it go. Now that the flightlust was starting to leave his system, he knew he needed to check on V'tayn and Kyabree. And maybe the others in their class.
They'd lost L'thyr today, a friend, a brother. A clutchmate, in Osgilath. They'd all grown up together during training, and then when those who rode mutant dragons had been banished here to White Lightning, they'd become even closer.
And now… one of their own was gone.
Vorganth, see what V'tayn and Kya are doing. And Z'ash and Gwin. We should… we should get together. Have a drink. Or something.
They needed to honor L'thyr, right? And remember him. And grieve. And it would be better together than apart.
