Post by Fox on Nov 18, 2010 8:21:04 GMT -8
It was the Harvest Festival! It was so exciting! Br’an was grinning from ear to ear as he trotted through the crowds to a waiting Niataph, a very important piece of paper clenched in his fist. The throngs of people came with a multitude of interesting things to see, and although Br’an had never been one for crowds, he was enjoying himself so far. Still, though, he actually had a responsibility to carry out today, and that was even more exciting still. Because this would be his first role to play as a Wingletmaster, even though by rights he would have no Winglets until after Eceph’s impending clutch arrived and hatched. But he would help out any way he can, and he organising one of the Winglet Races was certainly something he could do.
”Nia, it’s almost time for the race!” He called to his green as he clambered into the saddle. ”We’re officiating, so we’d better get going early.” A disapproving snort was what he was met with, as Niataph swivvled her head around to fix him with a narrowed yellow eye. Yes, well, there’s no need to be so excited about it. It’s unseemly. And I told you never to call me Nia in public![/color] For a moment, Br’an shrank, but then he brushed it off for another day and shot his simourv a sheepish grin. ”I’m sorry, Niataph-love.” He raised a blonde eyebrow at the simourv, as if to say ‘Well…?’ and the green huffed. But despite the displeasure still radiating off of her in spite of the cheery day, the green still launched herself into the sky, between the trees to circle over the particular guard platform designated as both the starting and the finishing point for the races that day. Satisfied, Br’an noted that the platform was more than large enough to hold the participating simourvs as well as their riders who, no doubt, would be staying to cheer their simourvs on.
First they checked that everything was in place at the starting, then, quickly, they flew along the race course that the Winglets would fly; a long stretch of sky over the forests of Chydyn, to where a second platform housed five numbered flags. Then, with a mental nudge, the greenpair did a wingover and streaked back to the starting platform, as Niataph’s voice rang out over the crowd. Could all participants of the Winglet Race please come to the Starting platform for a briefing now, thank you. The race begins in ten minutes. Don’t be late.[/color] And she swooped in for a landing, mantling her fabulously yellow-tipped wings to wait.
As each contestant arrived, Br’an handed them the numbers they had chosen. In order, it was Red Gaoph, Red Teimoph, Green Akaturiaph, Black Dionyph and Green Romaph. The winglets’ riders could attah the numbers onto the simourvs harnesses for ease of identification; Niataph herself sported a chequered black and white flag to identify her and her rider as the referees. Once they were all assembled, Br’an began to speak. ” This is the starting point and the finishing point for the Winglet Race. When I call, you will each step up to the edge of the platform, on their designated spots-“ Large numbers from one to five had been marked in chalk a good distance from each other, ”- and get ready. When the race begins, you will race for the second platform, collect the flag with your number on it, and come back here.” The infectious grin made its way onto his face; he was so excited for this! But a second later he smothered it- this part of the brief was important. ”However, there will be no foul play- Niataph and I will be with you from start to finish, and we will be watching. If any one of you takes another’s flag or if there’s any fighting mid-air, the perpetrators will be disqualified, clear?” It was secretly very thrilling to be able to use that commanding voice. Niataph allowed a mental snort at her rider’s silliness.
Once he’d received affirmation from the participants, Br’an allowed the grin to resurface. Cheerily, he clapped his hands as Niataph moved to the edge of the platform, ready and waiting. ”Right then! All non-participants please clear the area, ‘cause we’re starting the race! Good luck to all of you; may the best simourv win! Fly fast, little ones.[/color] Then the green was in the air and circling once again, her wingbeats fast in tempered excitement that she was too ladylike to voice. Winglets on your marks.[/color] From high above, Br’an’s raw, whooping voice called, ”Set!” Then finally, after a pause that was, perhaps, longer than called for, Niataph’s voice shrieked, GO![/color]
And the race was on.[/size]
”Nia, it’s almost time for the race!” He called to his green as he clambered into the saddle. ”We’re officiating, so we’d better get going early.” A disapproving snort was what he was met with, as Niataph swivvled her head around to fix him with a narrowed yellow eye. Yes, well, there’s no need to be so excited about it. It’s unseemly. And I told you never to call me Nia in public![/color] For a moment, Br’an shrank, but then he brushed it off for another day and shot his simourv a sheepish grin. ”I’m sorry, Niataph-love.” He raised a blonde eyebrow at the simourv, as if to say ‘Well…?’ and the green huffed. But despite the displeasure still radiating off of her in spite of the cheery day, the green still launched herself into the sky, between the trees to circle over the particular guard platform designated as both the starting and the finishing point for the races that day. Satisfied, Br’an noted that the platform was more than large enough to hold the participating simourvs as well as their riders who, no doubt, would be staying to cheer their simourvs on.
First they checked that everything was in place at the starting, then, quickly, they flew along the race course that the Winglets would fly; a long stretch of sky over the forests of Chydyn, to where a second platform housed five numbered flags. Then, with a mental nudge, the greenpair did a wingover and streaked back to the starting platform, as Niataph’s voice rang out over the crowd. Could all participants of the Winglet Race please come to the Starting platform for a briefing now, thank you. The race begins in ten minutes. Don’t be late.[/color] And she swooped in for a landing, mantling her fabulously yellow-tipped wings to wait.
As each contestant arrived, Br’an handed them the numbers they had chosen. In order, it was Red Gaoph, Red Teimoph, Green Akaturiaph, Black Dionyph and Green Romaph. The winglets’ riders could attah the numbers onto the simourvs harnesses for ease of identification; Niataph herself sported a chequered black and white flag to identify her and her rider as the referees. Once they were all assembled, Br’an began to speak. ” This is the starting point and the finishing point for the Winglet Race. When I call, you will each step up to the edge of the platform, on their designated spots-“ Large numbers from one to five had been marked in chalk a good distance from each other, ”- and get ready. When the race begins, you will race for the second platform, collect the flag with your number on it, and come back here.” The infectious grin made its way onto his face; he was so excited for this! But a second later he smothered it- this part of the brief was important. ”However, there will be no foul play- Niataph and I will be with you from start to finish, and we will be watching. If any one of you takes another’s flag or if there’s any fighting mid-air, the perpetrators will be disqualified, clear?” It was secretly very thrilling to be able to use that commanding voice. Niataph allowed a mental snort at her rider’s silliness.
Once he’d received affirmation from the participants, Br’an allowed the grin to resurface. Cheerily, he clapped his hands as Niataph moved to the edge of the platform, ready and waiting. ”Right then! All non-participants please clear the area, ‘cause we’re starting the race! Good luck to all of you; may the best simourv win! Fly fast, little ones.[/color] Then the green was in the air and circling once again, her wingbeats fast in tempered excitement that she was too ladylike to voice. Winglets on your marks.[/color] From high above, Br’an’s raw, whooping voice called, ”Set!” Then finally, after a pause that was, perhaps, longer than called for, Niataph’s voice shrieked, GO![/color]
And the race was on.[/size]
