Stand My Ground *Altaph's Maiden Flight!*

[Aikaph]

Sa’nia was completely and utterly baffled by her Tawny. She was being very…. Touchy, to say the least.

She was being less gentle about her rider, and snapping when she didn’t get what she wanted within her terms. It steadily became worse as the season progressed, but Sa’nia tolerated it, to an extent. Every once in a while, she would have to place a little more emphasis on her part of the bond, which either made Altaph apologize and huddle in a corner to sulk, or squirm under the pressure and fly to the pond to fume. Either way, she wasn’t being cooperative. She nearly missed a couple of shifts because of the mini-tantrums, and all of this stress currently sat quite heavily on Sa’nia’s shoulders.

Which is why she was rather peeved one rather cold autumn morning. Altaph refused to let her bonded curl up against her warm side for comfort, and actually braved the chilled gusts with a distinct lack of care rolling off of her and onto the poor other half. Do try to behave yourself, was a sudden remark from the Simourv, and before Sa’nia had time to even comprehend what was going on, the female was gone from her perch and swiftly making her way towards the Feeding Pens.

What was going on? Didn’t she just go to feed not a minute ago? A wave of passion crashing into the Lieutenant’s poor mind answered her train of thought. Altaph was Rising.

Oh, joy.

With stumbling steps (and the occasional faceplant), Sa’nia made her way to the ledge in time to see the giant brown beast take down a rather large cow. Huh. Normally she went for the goats. But no time for that! With as much farce as she could muster, she tried to restrain her bonded from digging into the crimson flesh. ”Blood the cow, Taffy!” she warned, vision just beginning to slip into Altaph’s perspective. Of course, with her recent behavior, screamed in defiance and ripped a chunk of meat from the now-dead bull. However, as the grip tightened somewhat on her will, she tossed the hunk aside and drank the blood hungrily. Another scream ripped through the sky, daring the males to give chase. Then, with wings flared, she was gone from the pens and racing towards the skies.

Sa'nia couldn't keep her grasp on her reality, her vision fading and Altaph's showing the most beautiful sight in the world. It didn't even register that she should at least have the fainest of hold on her reality. This one was too surreal, too amazing to pass by.

The sun was at its zenith, and the sunshine gleamed on her feathers. This time, her call was alien from her normal voice: suave, alluring, and just daring somebody to follow. Oh, boyys~, dare to play with me? she asked, even as the Eyrie began to fade from view. She soon stopped and hovered there, above the trees that populated the area. She would wait for them. Once they came, they would be put to the ultimate test.

Under her critical gaze, all will fall, save one. But he will have to prove himself worthy of her. She would be no prize to be won, but rather the winner of a new toy to play with.

Let them try to bring her back to Pohono’s soil.

She would not fall without a fight.

[Fox]

It had been a rare slow morning for K'ean. He had little to do; it was not his rotation to Itnala, he had written all the letters he needed to write, and he was not so popular a rider that people clamoured for his attention the minute he had a day off. Early that morning, before the sun had even properly risen above the horizon, the redrider had been out and about getting in a bit of sword practice in the canyon bed. The autumn air had been crisp with the promise of colder days to come, and at first the chill had raised goosebumps on his skin. But the heat of exertion had soon banished that lingering coldness, and noon found K'ean walking slowly back to his eyling, muscles aching pleasantly from the workout. It was plain that he had just come from the bathing pools; his brown hair was only somewhat dry and sticking out from his head in damp spikes and a towel was slung over one shoulder. Thus far, it had been a pleasant, if somewhat uneventful day and K'ean was content enough with it, if a little bored. He wasn't stupid enough to wish for something interesting to happen; Lady Luck and he had a rather iffy relationship, and who knew she might respond to such a wish with a koxi attack on Eyrie. Perhaps something interesting but harmless was a better idea...

In the eyling itself, Seronaph perched precariously on the ledge opening into the canyon, amber eyes searching futilely for something to catch his attention. Though his rider was perfectly content to while away the day with his own small pursuits-- tidying his room, going for a walk, luxuriating in the bath-- the large red simourv itched for something more. Something new. Something that would return some of his joie de vivre. Something with spice. When K'ean entered the eyling, the only response to his cheery greeting was a grumpy rumble of discontent as Seronaph's gaze remained on the little scuttling ants that were the staff and inhabitants of Eyrie. Briefly, he contemplated swooping down over them and scaring them; it wasn't exactly a new pastime, but it had become less satisfying after people generally got more used to Eyrie and the rather large creatures that called it their home. Seronaph could always tell who were the new arrivals. They jumped and shrieked most enjoyably when he made low passes over their heads, the wind of his passage stirring up hair and clothes and generally resulting in their dropping whatever they held. It was fun, in a slightly mean way. K'ean didn't approve, but that was to be expected.

In a way, both simourv and rider got their wish. A shrill scream of rage and defiance and challenge made both Seronaph and K'ean freeze where they stood, as brows furrowed in confusion over pale blue eyes and an amber gaze latched on to the brown beauty with blood dripping down her beak. Almost immediately, the red knew. Instinct and experience told him that Altaph, lovely Altaph, was rising. And he would chase. The knowledge flowed over the open connection to K'ean and the rider's eyes widened in sudden realisation. Altaph meant Sa'nia. So soon after Liliph's flight? Seph--[/b] His rider's protest feeble interrupted attempt at a protest fell on unheeding ears as Seronaph launched himself off the ledge, wings snapping open to catch at the air. All the time, his eyes remained fixed on Altaph as she loosed yet another shriek and then suddenly she was in the air, climbing, slender brown body reaching for height. Passion and desire swamped K'ean, so much that he staggered, caught in the middle of forming another meagre protest. Unwillingly, his feet began to move, carrying him out of the door and down the long corridors. Again, as he had done when Liliph had risen, K'ean bent his will against the torrent of heady emotion pouring from his simourv, sealing a small part of himself away from the rest to observe, rationalise; remain aware should Seronaph try anything obscenely stupid.

It was through the red that Altaph's words reached K'ean as well, her sultry voice renewing Seronaph's determination as he angled upwards to follow her ascent, wings beating fiercely to propel his bulkier body after the tawny. Hurriedly, the rider pulled away from the raw and thrumming strand that connected him to Seronaph, blue eyes wide against the double vision. He hardly remembered the journey to Sa'nia's eyling, so hell-bent on retaining some sense of self was he; only realising he had reached the place at all when he watched, detached, as his hand rose to knock on the door before pushing it open. The force behind Seronaph's response, projected widely to any who wished to hear, rang through K'ean's skull, rendering him deaf and almost blind for a moment as his feet stumbled on entering the eyling from the sheer volume and strength of the call. Gladly![/color] As if to underscore his mental call, a scream released itself from the red's throat, carrying with it all the passion and single-minded determination that Seronaph felt right at that moment. Dare him, would she? He would show her exactly what he was capable of! [/size]

[Kat]

But you just chased Liliph. Why must we chase again?

[/b]
Ros’n protested in the mind of her Wegmeph, who had already began to push himself into the tight air, erupting upwards in a powerful cyaneous streak. Even though she questioned her simourv, Ros’n’s collected the information herself, from the mind of the creature with whom she connected with so closely. Wegmeph liked to chase, even if he did not catch. He flet free when he flew through the air in pursuit, a freedom he gleaned from few other activities. Flight, flight made him feel like he was unbound by the rules and regulations which controlled and motivated him. In the air, the world became reduced to who was the most suited for the chase, the most athletic, the most intelligent or tactical. In no other situation was Wegmeph equal with the other simourvs of the Eyrie. While he enjoyed the structure of the hierarchy of the Eyrie and his position in it, the brief periods of equalization that flights created allowed a small, pleasant break which infused Wegmeph with pride and thrill, and reminded him of the fact that he believed in the way the structure ought to be. Ros’n understood Wegmeph’s beliefs and desires, because in that moment, they were merged into one being, and her protests were forgotten in the tide of the blue’s desire. She thought that the riders were always equal in the Eyrie, hierarchy or not. She did not understand why Wegmeph insisted on upholding the rules to such a heightened degree, or why he thought that he could only view himself on equal footing if he was in flight. Now, though, she allowed herself to be lost in the freedom Wegmeph perceived, the relief and the power of the air which pushed against his muscles and his feathers.

As Wegmeph rushed towards the air, he shrieked, his voice sounding primal and feral in a way which rarely issued from the stiff, uptight blue. His call radiated through Ros’n as she moved swiftly towards Sa’nia ‘s Eyling, and she shook with the passion and desire of her simourv. Ros’n felt cold, as the cool air buffeted her beast, as she emerged into the room, her hair dissolved, her clothing unkempt. She had not yet groomed herself for the day, as she had planned to do so after Wegmeph fed. He was hungry, now, but the hunger was not just gluttony but lust as well, a deep desire to fill the emptinesses that coursed through his body. The brunette glanced quickly around the room. She had never found Sa’nia to be her taste. Of course, the woman was beautiful, but she was too rigid and orderly to please Ros’n who would not have a chance anyway. But now, standing in the woman’s Eyrie, Ros’n was overcome with desire. What beautiful hair Sa’nia had! The red was so exotic and so appealing. Ros’n wanted to run her fingers through it, but she did not, if only because she was so dizzy with Wegmeph’s emotions that she could barely control her movements or her actions.

The blue simourv raced towards the beautiful tawny. The ground was only a distant shadow as his body moved in the air, up and up and up, in his pursuit of the magical, taunting tawny. He heard her call, and he raised his head and bugled,
I dare to chase, Altaph.
Even under the duress of desire, Wegmeph managed to construe his words in a formal manner, but his syntax contrasted his tone, which sounded free, wild, and uncontrolled. He heard Seronaph’s reply to the same statement, but Wegmpeh informed it. He had just as much right to chase the Tawny as the Red, and if Wegmeph did not win, then at least he enjoyed the thrill of the chase. He powered towards his prize, his wings striking the air, pounding against the updrafts and currents. He might not win, but Wegmeph would try his hardest. He did not care if he won, as he enjoyed the chase, but that would not prevent him from exuding as much effort as he could in the pursuit. To maximize his enjoyment, Wegmeph had to maximize his effort. Only Wegmeph and Seronaph chased yet, but Wegmeph wanted more competition. The competition was the reason for the game; the win; the chase, and in the competition, Wegmeph was free.
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[winged]

He had traversed that imaginary boundary between their territories, he knew. But prey had been sparse in his neck of the woods which really equated to a short stretch of mountainous terrain. The scrawny blue kept a presently wary eye on his surroundings while he coasted on warm thermals - years of experience and lost feathers had taught him well the hazards of daring to claim more than what was rightfully yours. Half-expecting a screaming Red to dive from behind cloud cover, talons ready to rend flesh the male clacked his beak to vent his anxieties while he scanned the scrub below for signs of life. There had to be SOMETHING, anything to fill his achingly empty belly.

Eventually, the wild simourv allowed himself a brief respite from his search. Grounded for a brief rest, he eagerly took crisp beakfuls of a mountain stream's runoff, even as his wings rustled and his tail lashed. Relatively young by his species' standards, he was a fine specimen. Muscled plentifully, most of it lean thanks to hard times and competition. Still he bore numerous scars, and several patches where feathers had been torn clean away. He was certainly a free spirit, but it was hardly glamorous.

After slaking his thirst, the blue took the time to thoroughly examine the scenery. Not too far off in the distance was a red rock canyon - a curious sight, but nothing he hadn't seen before. What truly concerned him was the constant buzz and colorful blurs that indicated activity. Other simourvs, and so many in one place! He was tempted to sneak closer, perhaps once dusk had settled, but something stayed him. Those simourv were different, and potentially hazardous for him.

At last, the male settled for composing himself comfortably in a well sheltered area, opting to nap and perhaps ease the constant rumblings of his belly if only for just a while. Curled up in a navy blue ball of fluff, the young simourv napped through the morning and awoke to a completely different frame of mind. He stirred sluggishly, something dragging him unwillingly from his rest - that something his heavily lidded eyes registered as a tawny figure silhouetted against the clear skies. She was Rising, and clearly seeking suitors.

The blue had chased once or twice before - he'd never caught any of the wily greens, and there hadn't been any signs of a tawny or gray in his territory in years. The exhilarating rush of hormones was all too familiar, however, and the blue flung himself skyward without a second thought, crowing his challenge as he streaked towards the lovely Altaph. His inhibitions were tossed aside easily in the youthful pursuit of love, and love he was assured it was.

That love dampened, considerably, as first Seronaph and then Wegmeph clustered uncomfortably close in the nearby airspace. Squawking, hesitating for a second's worth of reconsideration, the blue stubbornly held his ground, fixing them both with a savage glance and a clack of his beak. He deserved to be here! Chasing the pretty girl!

[zeis]

"Get up." K'huna called over his shoulder toward Canph's ledge, where the great pinkish red simourv stubbornly lay sleeping. "I told you last night that we were going to Chydyn early today, and I meant it." He gazed sternly down at his boots as he laced them, seeing a distorted vision of himself in the polished leather. The redrider had taken extra care to make himself look presentable today, and from his crisp outfit, clean shaven face, and tidy hair one might think he was off to see someone incredibly important. In reality it was just his mother and father. They were strict people, and his father Alden in particular was hard to please. He rather not show off any imperfections today. BORING! Other than the obvious one.

Canph rolled a bit more defiantly onto his side, twisting his neck and laying his head nearly upside down on the smooth rock. Today was a rare day where they did not have to attend to the winglets, and the red fancied sleeping til the late hours, and then maybe sleeping some more once the sun came out. I hate visiting your family. I'm the only family you need, and you get to see me every day. He griped a bit smugly, heaving a large sigh and idly flexing his foreclaws. Though his eyes were closed he could hear K'huna pause in the doorway to his ledge, and feel the lack of enthusiasm in the man's mind.

"I thought you liked Kail." K'huna raised his eyebrows at the sprawled position of his simourv, and crossed his arms over his chest just as stubbornly. He smirked when he saw Canph's ears perk slightly. In the infrequent visits he and Canph had with his family, the red had taken a shine to his younger brother, who was just as much of a troublemaker as he was. "He'll be there too, you know. I'm sure by the end of today you two will have 'accidentally' burned Chydyn to the ground. Just leave my father's house standing, alright?"

Canph opened his eyes, and rolled upright, fixing his rider with a mischievous and calculating expression. He didn't have time to consider his options before a defiant scream caught both his and K'huna's attention. The red's brown eyes grew wide and snapped to the cavern floor, ears perking in that direction. He paid K'huna no mind as the man joined him by his side, both of them gazing intently at the murderous tawny at the feeding pens. Canphs eyes full of interest, while K'huna's were filled with initial confusion... Then realization.

"Son of a-" The redrider's words were ripped from his mouth as Canph launched himself from the ledge, rising eagerly to meet Altaph's teasing challenge. The man shielded his eyes and staggered backward as the red's wings caught the air and carried him away, toward the rising tawny. That same deluge of feelings seeped into him via Canph, that painful desire, this time for Sa'nia, that made his body ache and his will not his entirely his own. Canph's fury and lust mixed with his own irritation at the ill-opportune flight. There would be no trip to Chydyn. As Canph rose to chase, shrieking his intent behind him, K'huna turned and walked slowly out of his eyling toward the tawny riders. It was not a long walk. Soon he loomed there in the doorway to the womans chambers, his face still a scowl and torn somewhere between passion and rage.

Canph, who at this moment could have cared less for his rider's ruined plans, was very rapidly making plans of his own. As his wings beat powerfully at the air, carrying toward the trees over which Altaph flew, he watched her critically. She was a beautiful creature, lovely to look at, and a graceful flyer. The tawny had always seemed nice enough before, playful, but never stepping on anyones toes. In truth she had always struck him as a bit boring. Why care so much about how people felt, and try so hard to be friends? He much preferred her like this. Flirtatious, dangerous, and wild. It was her maiden flight, and that fueled his resolve. She had never mated before, he had. She was inexperienced at evading suitors, while he was experienced at chasing. She would make mistakes, and he would be there to capitalize on them. Let's play!

He glared in passing at the three other males chasing as he soared after her, recognizing Seronaph and Wegmeph immediately. The two were often his rivals during flights, but it was the third that briefly diverted his attention from Altaph. That blue he did not recognize. At all. Just who was he? Who did he think he was, showing up here and contesting what would surely be his victory? The red snarled and bowled roughly into the airspace of the wild blue intending either to slow him down or chase him off completely. Growling he turned his thoughts back to Altaph, and let the sight of her consume his thoughts. He followed her eagerly, keeping up a good pace but not exhausting himself just yet. He'd watch and wait, and take his chances.

[Kat]

Wegmeph saw the other challengers, and he did not care that they were there. This flight was his, or rather not his necessarily, but his time to be free and unrestrained. The blue, that blue was a stranger to Wegmeph, and he saw that, and he admired the stranger, his soft eyes not focusing on the creature, but remaining fixed on the Tawny. Any other time, any other flight, where he was not so intimately involved, Wegmeph would have wondered about the presence of the blue. Was he a wild simourv? A wild simourv had no chance against the rider born. He was a beast, but he also had an advantage over the wild, because he was a brain as well, connected with a mind which only intensified his own tactical intelligence, even if the mind was as scattered and cluttered as Ros’n’s own brain. Canph was here, too, Wegmeph noticed, swooping behind Wegmeph in a reserved manner, probably saving himself for when the flight became more heated, but Canph and Seronaph were of no accord to Wegmeph, and nether was the strange blue. All that mattered was Wegmeph and Ros’n and Altaph, the beautiful golden streak in the sun.

Ros’n shook her head, trying to make sense of the strange blue which she could see but which she could not comprehend. She saw him through Wegmeph’s perspective, as a challenge, a threat, but she did not know who he was, who he belonged to. Ros’n’s inability to comprehend distracted Wegmeph for a second, a brief moment which his gaze pulled away from Altaph. And then, Ros’n figured it out, understood from Wegmeph’s comprehension that the blue was a wild, a new being, and she was sated. The woman allowed herself to be absorbed in Wegmeph’s chase again, to be consumed by his desire, which rushed over her and made her knees weak. And in those seconds that Wegmeph’s gaze changed, he realized that there was another way to catch Altaph. He had been so focused on her before that he had thought that following her was the only way, but now that he had shifted his gaze, Wegmeph realized that there was a narrow passage through the rocky cliff face which followed the Tawny’s path. It was a small path, but it would quicken Wegmeph’s chase; it was a short cut to his ultimate goal.

The blue dropped down a few feet so that he was level with the path, and then he slid inside, twisting himself until he was horizontal, with his wingtips stretching towards the sky and towards the ground. He barely fit through the crevasse, so the reds would not be able to fit. Wegmeph’s stomach scraped against the rock, shredding a few bright blue feathers, but he fit, and he was strong. And then he was through, bursting out of the tight space with a new conviction for the chase. And Wegmeph righted himself, screaming with pride, as he flashed upwards, catching an upward draft of air, so that he soared upwards towards the Tawny. And then, Wegmeph made contact with the Tawny, his body connecting with hers until they were one being, one entity, connected by Wegmeph’s determination to win. The blue trumpeted in victory, but his bark was short and powerful, as soon he was consumed with the fruit of his labor, his overwhelming passion for the Tawny, who was now wrapped and him.

Ros’n’s eyes widened as a rush of both new and familiar emotions wrapped around her in a cloudy uncertainty. Wegmeph was certain of his victory, but Ros’n was confused. She could not imagine that Wegmeph had caught the Tawny, and it was so far out of her understanding of the way the flight would turn out, that it took Ros’n a good few minutes to comprehend the flood of new desire which filled her body, her bones, and her mind. Wegmeph had won one flight before, but that flight was different, the emotions were different, and Ros’n had expected the blue to catch a green, but never a Tawny. As her mind, so confused and muddled by the alien and familiar passion of Wegmeph for Altaph, comprehended the new situation, the awesome and damning desire which wracked her, Ros’n moved towards an outlet for her consumptive need, her eyes still big and bright.