The Moon's a Harsh Mistress [Niataph's Flight]

[Fox]

See her how she flies
Golden sails across the sky
Close enough to touch
But careful if you try

Niataph had been tetchy and snappish all week. Br'an had been living in a constant state of nervous twitchyness, because he could never be sure when her voice would slice into him to deride whatever it was he was doing. Nothing could please the green lately, and the poor man could not for the life of him figure out why. It didn't occur to him that the reason his simourv was so irritable really did not have anything to do with him; observation was not his strong suit when it came to Niataph in a temper. He tended to get flustered and drop things. Honestly, he loved her more than life itself, but sometimes... Sometimes she could be trying even to him.

Dusk had begun to fade to night when Niataph decided it was time. From her position perched on the edge of her eyling, she could see the activity in the canyon below, as the steady flow of people became a mere trickle. A low croon built up in her throat; had been through this once before, and she knew what this hunger meant. There would be no useless blooding of cattle from her. Niataph was a green, and she was the best green. And she would fly tonight. Br'an.[/color] She called, her voice losing some of its edge in her distraction. Across the eyling, Br'an winced in what was becoming an almost Pavlovian reaction, caught in the middle of changing for bed. Yes, love?

Try not to make a fool of yourself.[/color]

He half-turned, frowning, mouth open to ask what she meant, when Niataph launched herself off the eyling ledge, wings striving for height. Br'an was left with his mouth open, skinny chest bare with his shirt hanging from his hand. He stared at the spot where Niataph had been, and suddenly it made sense. The irritation, the snapping, the brighter colour in... her feathers. Realisation hit him and, in a fit of indulgent frustration, he tossed the shirt across the room before sinking onto his bed to wait, head in hand. Niataph was flying again. It had been so long since she'd flown Br'an had almost forgotten about that part of a rider's job. Perfect. Just perfect.

Niataph was silent as she flew up and up, waning moonlight rendering her a gleaming figure in the night. It was only when she reached the top of the canyon wall that she threw back her head, beak open in a loud, challenging scream. Then, with barely a glance back to see if she had suitors, the green sped away like a slim verdant bullet. Her voice touched the minds of her brothers, bearing challenge and pride and excitement. Can you catch me, handsome ones?[/color] The chase begins.

Though she looks as warm as gold
The moon's a harsh mistress
The moon can be so cold

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[Kat]

Ros’n had gone to bed early. She had been covering the night watch shift in Chydyn recently, and after two nights and a day awake, the woman was exhausted. Since she did not have to cover the night watch again, Ros’n took the opportunity to fall asleep, tightly tucked under her covers, wearing only an oversized man’s shirt made of a thick, study fabric. She disliked wearing undergarments to bed. She told Wegmeph to behave himself while she was asleep, and with her face tucked under her pillow to block the fading sunlight. Wegmeph huffed in Ros’n’s direction—he was never the one who did anything wrong. His rider was the difficult, ill behaved one; Wegmeph was incredibly well behaved all the time. Ros’n ignored Wegmeph, and then she went to bed, right as the sun began to set. So, when Wegmeph’s voice cut into Ros’n’s sleep, she was not pleased. When she told him that she did not want to be bothered, that he needed to behave, she had assumed that he understood that that meant that he should not, under any circumstances, bother her as she slept. She could not have been asleep for too long. Night was only now beginning to come.
Mine, Niataph takes to the sky, and I want to chase.

[/color]
Wegmeph explained, demanded, and as soon as Ros’n comprehended her partner’s words, she jerked awake. What the fuck was happening? Niataph was flying. The bluerider pulled herself awake as soon as she realized that she was going to be woken no matter what. Because Wegmeph would always chase, and Ros’n could not sleep through the intense desire that was about to shake her entire body.

The bluerider snapped awake, and she did not even bother putting on any clothes. She would probably end up without her clothes on anyway tonight, which was not a thought that pleased her. Ros’n then began to move towards Br’an’s Eyling, and she stomped, her body thrusting itself forwards in angry stomps. Ros’n burst through the door, and she growled at Br’an before she spoke to him, producing a bitter little cough in his direction.
”Fuck, Br’an, if Wegmeph catches your slut tonight, I swear I will kill you when we get up in the morning. I was asleep for the first time in days, and now it’s all ruined.”
Ros’n announced as she draped herself into one of the chairs in Br’an’s Eyling. She glared at the thin green rider through her green eyes, her face twisting into a bitter scowl. She sat in a way which exposed most of the entire length of her legs and the underside of her butt. She did not care about much of anything right now, event the fact that she was almost naked.

Wegmeph felt the flight before he realized what was happening, and by the time Niataph screamed, and he answered her shriek with his own bellow, a sound blazing from his chest, fiery, intense, and full of his desire. He had been so bored before the chase, so terribly uninterested in his sleeping rider, but without anything else to entertain him. Ros’n had gone to bed after Wegmeph fed, so he could not even feed himself while she slept. Now, he had something to do with his night. It was going to be an incredible night, even if all he did was chase and not catch. Wegmeph loved to chase. He loved the thrill of it, the excitement of it. He powered forwards, his wings beating the night sky, and he propelled after his green target. Even though it was dark outside, Wegmeph’s bright body stood out, and he almost seemed to shine as the moonlight struck his vibrant feathers.
Beautiful one, I try to catch.
Wegmeph announced, his voice confident, thick, and husky with desire.
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[{r e k y}]

It was just another one of those times that happened every single day where Hjolteph's pride was Es'tev's downfall. The red knew that Niataph was Flying. He also knew that Es'tev and Niataph's Br'an definitely weren't on comfortable speaking terms. He also knew that he really did want Niataph right now, and his rider's problems were of little significance to him. As far as he was concerned, he was the superior member of the pair anyways. Es'tev would just have to deal with some discomfort, because Hjolteph was going to chase, and nothing was going to change that. The red figured, though, that it was best if he didn't tell Es'tev anything at all.

Es'tev, get on,

[/i] the red huffed, crouching down so Es'tev could mount.

What? Why? I'm going to sleep, Hjolt, Es'tev replied, proceeding to climb into bed. He was tired. He didn't need to deal with Hjolt's antics anymore.

I said get on, Hjolt said again.

And I said I'm going to sleep.

Ugh! You're so difficult![/i] Hjolteph whined. Giving up on civilized negotiations, he stuck his head into Es'tev's room, grabbed his pajamas in his strong beak, and dragged him out, ignoring the man's flailing and protest. Then, he got Es'tev in one claw, lumbered to the opening of his eyling, and took flight. Needless to say, Es'tev was far from impressed, especially when Hjolteph dropped him none-too-gently on the ledge of another eyling and sped off. Recovering painfully, he watched the red simourv fly up into the night sky, catching a glimpse of a blue and a green, as well. The green... oh, God, he sure hoped she belonged to Rez'mat, D'lyn, Fe'ra or M'likki, but he had a sick feeling in his stomach.

As soon as he turned around to look into the eyling, his insides flipped. "Are you fucking kidding me?" he spluttered. It had to be Br'an, didn't it. "Fuck!" He was going to gut Hjolteph for this. Br'an and Niataph? Seriously?

Hjolteph was oddly amused at Es'tev's anger. The simourv let his lusty feelings grow and flow to his bonded, which infected Es'tev almost instantly. Now the man felt conflicted instead, which pleased Hjolteph. After that, the red gave his rider no more mind. All of his thoughts and heart and body were for Niataph. He opened his beak and let out a shrill cry, something loud and obvious to alert her of his presence and intimidate Wegmeph. Why was Wegmeph even here, still? If he was smart, he'd leave right now, because Hjolteph was so much better and manlier and obviously had a better chance of winning. Besides - Niataph had chosen him before! He knew she liked him, and rightfully so, because he was such a specimen of good looks, and he knew how to treat a lady well. As great as he was, though, he knew that tonight was about Niataph.

Oh, gorgeous Niataph! he called, warbling, I'm here for you! I'll follow until the end! Beautiful, lovely Niataph.[/i] They could be beautiful together.[/size][/blockquote]

[zeis]

Let's go far away. Canph said suddenly from the dark of his ledge, his voice eager and full of excitement. He twisted his neck to look into the cavern at his rider, his large brown eyes gleaming in the fire-light. K'huna looked up from the small pocket-knife he was repairing, and leaned back into his creaking chair. Where? The man asked indulgently, favoring Canph with a careful look that was half suspicion half amusement. To Itnala. We'll spend the whole spring and summer there, all the best weather.

K'huna considered this a moment, then snorted, returning to his task. We have work to do. Can't haul off like that til the Alphas are sworn in. Plus we'll have to start Searching- We can search in Itnala for a couple months. Come on, you have a sense of adventure in there somewhere. Canph challenged with a squawk, reaching into the eyling with one paw to bat at the back of the chair in which his rider sat, knocking him against the desk and some of his tools upon the floor.

In response, he rose to his feet and took a moment to stare tiredly at the red before retrieving his implements. Our duty lays here, Canph. It always has. If Koxi attack and we aren't here... He stared down at the pocket knife, an oft breaking relic from a world past, and flipped the small blade shut. Its inexcusable not to fight if you're able. Besides... He sighed tiredly, and rubbed his temples at the very thought of it.

...What about all those flights you'll miss? He unleashed his secret weapon without much enthusiasm, but before he could register Canph's response a voice screamed in the night. The man froze tight lipped and surprised by the irony and sheer unluckiness of it. The red glanced away from the eyling and looked with interest to the night skies, where Niataph flew gloriously higher and higher. ...You make a convincing argument. He laughed, and was gone at once into the sky after her.

That left the red-rider alone in his eyling, and he mumbled a resigned curse as he felt that same old rush of feelings take a firm and unshakable hold over his mind. Just what were the odds of that? He grit his teeth, and held his head, trying to make sense of the primordial desire that was quickly consuming him. Br'an was the name and face that came to mind, one of the promising new Wingletmasters of the Charlie class. It was his green Niataph that flew... But that was unimportant compared to the green-rider himself, who suddenly meant everything in the world. The man staggered from his eyling into the lengthy cavern halls and stairs that connected each of the rider's quarters. The path was clear despite his muddled thoughts, and soon he found himself in the company of Es'tev and Ros'n, just another suitor.

Canph flew after Niataph earnestly, a crimson and pink shadow in the moonlight. He reached his mind out to hers, sending all his love and adoration in feeling not words. She was beautiful, reminiscent of the first flowers of spring. The green of her feathers like grass and new leaves, and the yellow of her tail much the color of a dandelion's petals. He crooned a deep and throaty song, his single voice of tribute. The red was aware of two rivals, familiar minds in competition with his own. The stubborn and generally unfunny Wegmeph, and Hjolteph, that preening idiot. Whatever fondness he felt for them as kin was still there, but lost now in the spirit of battle.

[Fox]

I fell out of her eyes
I fell out of her heart
I fell down on my face
Yes, I did, and I -- I tripped and I missed my star

[/i]


Niataph was pleased at the responses from her suitors, Wegmeph and Hjolteph and Canph. She expected no less, after all, since she was worth every moment of their attention. Handsome males all of them, though the passions of Flight encouraged the green to be more charitable in her usually exacting scrutiny. Still, it was rather a disappointment that no blacks had joined her following; but then Niataph was well aware most of the blacks were disinclined to chase anyone but greys. It was alright, after a fashion. So long as none of the other greens got such attention. She was happy so long as she was not surpassed, that was Niataph in a nutshell. As each stroking wingbeat bore them further away from the canyon they called home, the green did not glance back, did not grace them with even so much of a glance. Instead, as her wings banked to the left, Niataph loosed a croon, losing speed just enough to flick her tail tantalisingly close to Wegmeph before she was rolling through the air in a rare show of aerial acrobatics from the mostly staid, proper green simourv.

At the arrival of Ros'n in the eyling, Br'an dragged his head up enough to shoot her a distinctly miserable look from beneath a fringe of blonde hair. In many ways, with his finely-boned face and large eyes, Br'an looked decidedly unmasculine, but at that moment he looked rather like the puppy someone had decided to kick. His voice was equally as plain in its misery, as Niataph unwittingly put her rider through a veritable wringer of emotions and passion which he was mentally flailing about in, trying to stay afloat. "Trust me, Ros'n, if I had a choice I wouldn't be here either."

It only got better, of course, when a very familiar, very male voice cursed loudly in disbelief and horror, sending shooting tingles of a mirroring shock up Br'an's spine. He froze, Adam's apple bobbing as he turned to take in the sight of Es'tev, dressed in pajamas and clearly not wanting to be here. Well. That made two of them. Of course, the first thing Br'an thought of at the sight of the redrider was the last time Niataph flew, and his face flamed crimson in response. What was more, as his simourv began to tire and her mind turned to choosing the winner of her flight, Br'an was practically assaulted by the wave of desire that hit him like a blow to the head and he reeled. Suddenly, Es'tev, Ros'n, even newly arrived K'huna seemed incredibly attractive, yet a part of Br'an wailed that two of them were men! With a tiny mewl of despair, the greenrider folded over to bury his face in his knees, hands knotting convulsively in his hair. He was already not looking forward to the morning after.

In the sky, Niataph led her suitors on a merry dance, her agility in the air unmatched by the larger males. But what they lacked in maneouverability they made up for in stamina, and it wasn't long before the green felt her wingbeats failing, her heart thundering in her ears with the effort. Still, she bore it out to the last dregs of her energy, and then, with a last burst, she looped back overhead to collide almost head on with her chosen one, wings tangling, talons locking, and a sigh of contentment, pleasant tiredness, satisfaction with her choice. Green feathers clashed with nutmeg-brown as Niataph's voice, lacking it's strident edge, murmured in a rare, gentle tone, Hjolteph...[/color]

If he'd been coherent enough for thought, Br'an would have told Ros'n that at least now she could go get some sleep. Instead, all that was left was for the young man, awash and lost in a sudden storm of desire battering his senses, to stumble to his feet, nearly falling headfirst as he reached for the rider of his green's chosen, thoughtless, heedless, needing nothing but the warmth of another's touch. Male or female, it didn't matter any more, as Br'an blindly sought Es'tev's lips in a clumsy, heated kiss.

And the moon looked on.

God, I fell and I fell alone, I fell alone
And the moon's a harsh mistress
And the sky is made of stone

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