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No words were necessary when a war-dance began. He rumbled, deep and low, in response to her desires- a rolling pitch of thunder in a bright blue sky. He swept upwards, pumping his wings, blood beating a tattoo in his very veins. The increasing cold was icy fire against his soul. He gave a piercing, challenging cry to the sun as it rose, liberated from the world so far beneath them. This was freedom. This was everything a dragon should be, and more. Fire and love coursed through him, and he gave a final cry, pulling his wings close to his body as he dropped from the sky.

He maneuvered between the chasers with an ease that came from Turns of experience and practice. He was not a teacher, nor a Star Flame dragon, for naught. He pulled up suddenly, wings snapping open as he sensed an advantageous thermal beneath him. It propelled him into the air, and he twisted nimbly on himself, an elegant twirl of speckled, floral-patterned bronze hide. Everything was calculated. He might not have been the fastest or the flashiest creature amongst the lot, but he was enduring and solid- he knew his limits and he thrived as he tiptoed on the very boundaries of his strength.

It took but a moment to readjust his flight and position, to catch sight of his breathing, gleaming sunshine. Never fear to fall or fail, my Lady, for life cannot exist without such chance or risk. And… we are here to catch you, at your say-so. He rumbled again, gentle, kind, and determined.

Rider: M’wyn (Oh yeah he’s up for a kiddo!)
Dragon: Lornath
Color: Bronze

M’wyn had made it down to the feeding pens, his eyes somewhat glazed over. Somehow he’d managed to make it all the way down here to look up at what was happening far above, that occupied so much of his mind.

“You’re right Lornath, you’re being far too passive, get in and go for it!” The rider encouraged his other half as he managed to put one foot in front of ta other to get to the railing and use it to help hold himself up.

Meanwhile far above, Lorneth was having little trouble handling the high altittude and was flying high and far in search of his queen. Assuming she’d been talking with the other males, he waited till she spoke to them once again as a group. “For you Queen Killakeeth I would give much to have the freedom of movement of youth to show you tricks and acrobatics, but as I am yours I do the best I have at your command” And fitting actions to words he threw himself into a tight spiral. Luckily he was on the outskirts or his wings flaring might have clipped another dragon as he came out of the movement. As he assessed the rest of those flying this day he realized he’d hung back too long and may well have lost his chance to shine bright for her. But being cunning he’d held to the strategy to not make a target of himself, so that at least was in his favor. HIs eyes whirled with purples- touched here and there with yellow for his potential miscalculations.

“Queen, I am honnored that I have been able to fly for your affections today, your beauty and shine a rise outdoing the sun. But pretty words can be given by any suitor- please, tell me more how I can most please you.” He stressed the word MOST finishing with ” for above all that is what I seek.”


Base Bronze: 40
Age 11 and Up: +5
Fit/Motivated: +10
Cunning: +2
TOTAL=57

Strength: 11
Intelligence:13
Speed: 10
Endurance: 11
Fight: 12

Now was the time, that was to be sure. Hopefully if he kept up a strong performance he'd win her eye, but Turoth could see how it wandered between those that were fighting, those that were pulling ahead further than he, and even those that were falling out of the chase completely. He shook his head slightly as two bronzes fell with one another, a bit upset for Killakeeth's sake. While he never held a grudge against someone for finding their love, it was silly and rude for them to waste a queen's time.

At the request for 'moves', Turoth wavered for only a moment before angling his wings just so. He was not built for maneuverability and although he was no brute, generally he'd just accept whatever Thread was coming his way rather than try to dodge or, worst case, would jump Between to try to save Ar'ad. But the queen demanded a bit of flair and for her he'd fall from the sky in the most beautiful corkscrew spiral just so she could watch. He surprised himself with how neat and well executed his barrel roll was - for a maxed out bronze, that is - and Turoth gave a trumpet of success as he leveled out again. Surely there were browns and even smaller bronzes here that could pull off more showy things, but surely Killakeeth could feel the delight and pride surging through him as he spoke to her again.

Anything for you, my queen. Even a graceless rock with wings will turn the most beautiful circles to please you.

---

Strength: 15
Intelligence: 10
Speed: 6
Endurance: 14
Fight: 13

Round 1: 17
Round 2: 7
Round 3: 12
Total: 36

Oh, oh, oh. Phylideth was doing things. A bit of yellow swirled through his purple eyes, well aware of his wingleader's infamous temper. It was all well and good to take scars from a blue mate testing the worth of those pursuing his queen, but Garganth had little interest in finding himself on the receiving end of those wicked claws. The request to show off, however, left the big, bulky male a bit puzzled.

Despite his initial hesitation, he threw himself gladly into the challenge, eager to comply with Killakeeth's wishes. Pumping his wings for height, the bronze folded them unexpectedly to his sides and plummeted, spinning in a rapid corkscrew as he did so. Oh, it was enough to make one dizzy! But he managed to clumsily pull it off, rumbling with delight at his own actions.

Had she seen? Did she approve? Ohh, Phylideth was doing another Thing....

Bronze: 40
Age 11 and up: +5
Fit/Motivated: +10 points
Sweet: +3
-------
Total: 58

Strength: 17
Intelligence: 5
Speed: 12
Endurance: 18
Fight: 6

Round 1: 17 +12 = 29 (25)
Round 2: 25 - 3 = 22
Round 3: 5 + 12 = 17 (11)
Total: 33

J'xsen and brown Zukiath

I make no fair promises, lovely Killakeeth! trumpteted Zukiath. I am a dragon of my word, and if I say a thing I mean it! And I say I will catch you and we shall have many beautiful babies, as beautiful as you!

J'xsen was nearly blind from the flight lust as he reached the weyrbowl and started searching for someone, anyone to help sate the powerful drive he felt. This was the worst part of flights as far as he was concerned, the blind lust. At least when he behaved in a lustful manner normally, it was controlled. This was... not.

Stats
Strength: 15
Intelligence: 7
Speed: 10
Endurance: 13
Fight: 7

Round 1: 15+10= 25(23)
Round 2: 13= 13(11)
Round 3: 7+10= 17(14)
Round 4:
Round 5:
Running Total: 23+11+14+n+n= 48

Instead of engaging in the aerial acrobatics he prided himself on, Aleyath hesitated when Killakeeth addressed him (acknowledgment! positive reinforcement!), allowing a number of bronzes to close around him in a riot of sparkles. He searched his muddled mind for an appropriately glorious response, and even though a simple yes would have sufficed, the brown was well and truly distracted now.

Shimmer good.

He dropped a bit to gain momentum, then resumed his chase, striving to catch up but knowing he probably wouldn't. Surrounded by eye candy, it was not a surprise that he was suddenly okay with that.

show spoilerhide spoiler

Quote:

brown: 35
age five and under: +2
fit/motivated: +10
cunning: +2
----------
total: 49

rider: O'len
xx(open to having a kid? nope!)
dragon: Aleyath
color: brown

aleyath is gonna catch a shiny!!!1!!111!!!
( oocly he is not eligible to win though please thank you omnomnom <3<3<3 )
o'len is gone

Quote:

strength: 11
intelligence: 10
speed: 12
endurance: 11
fight: 5

Quote:

round one: [strength + speed] 14
round two: [endurance] 5
round three: [intelligence + speed] 5

NPC K'srin of Bronze Cyndreth
Try harder? Oh, he would show her. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't have risen to her taunt, but today, with lust in his veins, hot as ichor, he let out a soft growl. Still, he did not say more, not yet. He would wait, watch, and prove himself. Let her forget about him until the very end, but he would be there, and he would prove himself when it mattered. Let the more foolish suitors tire themselves out.

He followed her upwards, at a steady pace, though eventually he dipped down, unwilling (and perhaps, even if he wouldn't admit it, unable) to pursue, to waste his energy. That caution might just lose him the flight, but he restrained himself. Better to outlast and show off with any extra reserves...right? Eyes flashing red, he watched her, trying to keep himself under control, as much as he could.

Dragons fought, dragons dropped, but Cyndreth paid them no mind, eyes trained on the lovely gold. At her words, he had but one for her. His voice sounded as though he were smirking, as he spoke to her. Behold. With all his bronze smugness, the very bronze smugness that had waited for this opportunity to show off, to catch her eye, he twisted around, spiralling and looping in the air. It was not nearly as impressive as he'd hoped. Well planned, well coordinated, but...slow and less precise than he would have wished.

Bronze: 40
Age 6-10: +3
Fit/Motivated: +10 points
Cunning: +2
Total: 55

Strength: 12
Intelligence: 15
Speed: 8
Endurance: 10
Fight: 10

Round 1: 12+8=20 (7)
Round 2: N/A
Round 3: 15+8=23 (2)
Round 4:
Round 5:
TOTAL: 9 as of round 3

Oh, how very aware he was of that. But cruel instinct and his rider’s wishes denied him the dignity of leaving after angering a queen. He instead had to tale a morbid pride in that red-eyed glare, in the consequence of gambling for sympathy. Surely she might at least appreciate that gesture for what it was, however pitiful the idea. Not everyone could bid golden marks with each round.

The pain of past loss, of present losing...It was almost sweet to taste; he wondered if that was the reason he bothered to chase at all these days. Dhumavath had the impulse to dig his grave even deeper. It was one of the only ways he could without tearing at the ground in anguish like he had before. But E’roe had asked him to see the flight through, and the brown was nothing if not a workhorse when asked. And his momentum forward, however little, had already been cast.

< Cut into me as is your will, > he said in that plodding, patient way. Be it claws or scathing words, he could endure, as he had said before.

The candles remained, the rain still tapping at an immaterial window. The smell of ichor was both in their noses and in their minds, the closest to a spice any dragon could have. < What is under the skin is not always edible. I show you discarded hide and cartilage and bile, the ugliness a chef will parse away before presenting the meal. I hide nothing, bear no perfect visage like a mask to crow behind as they do. You deserve better than a lie, Killakeeth-Morning-Divine. > And while he wasn’t sorry for being as he was, laying it all out like it was life and death and death and death, there was a gentle wave of supplication towards the queen, a wordless beg of an apology for angering her.

Dhumavath...was not the most flexible of creatures. His turns were wide, his loops gaping holes. But she had asked, and as E’roe had asked, so too did he deliver to the best of his morose and somber ability. Waiting had been a good idea; it gave him a little more room to maneuver, and he picked up speed.

< Would you rather tear into it all regardless? Does the pump of hot blood excite, intrigue, pique your hunger? > In the imaginary room, imaginary beings began to play: knives between fingers, a snap of the dice. < I would last through these trials if it pleased. I would make everything last. >