Robin bounces down to where the dragons and their riders are preparing to leave with mixed feelings.  She can still feel Vere’s parting kisses warm on her lips and the strength of his embrace around her and much of her mourns their parting.  But much of her also dances lightly at the thought of being free of this Isle and its smothering entanglements.  Memories of her sister – so quiet at their leaving taking – worry her.  Memories of her mother and her priestesses confirm for Robin that there is no place for her here.  One dark interior voice whispers to her of duties not met and promises not kept, while another sings of a return to a more natural way of being.
            But overall, for Robin, the time has come to fly.  And her hearts leaps to it.  Her good-byes have been made; her plans with the riders have been set.  Thus, there is a smile on her lips and her step is light as she approaches Jovian’s great Saurian friends and their companions.

They are quite ready to go and tell you to make whatever farewells you need to, and they will be ready to fly in half a glass (roughly 30 minutes).

[You may ride with Kourin or M'Hall.]

[Robin’s good-byes are made and she’d rather ride with Kourin and Hoshith – surprise, surprise.  Besides, she’s hoping that Hoshith will help her zone in a little on Calusa.  Though she’s got Jovian and Julian’s big footsteps to help her, she herself has only been to Calusa once, soooo all the help she can get.]

When the time is up, the Weyrleader and Weyrlady approach.  "The Wings stand ready, Lady Robin."

“Right then.  Let’s get you guys home.”  Robin nods.  The Ranger smiles her thanks to Hoshith as she swings up behind Kourin.  The girl’s color is high and her eyes are sparkling with anticipation.  Despite everything’s that happened, she can’t repress her excitement.  Though she does take a good look around to see who and how many “The Wings” include, especially to see if M’corli and Antrith are there.

M'Corli is with them, and still cannot see, although he claims to be able to tell the difference between night and day.  For this flight, he's strapped tight into his fighting straps.  Kourin and M'Hall have the most vivid descriptions of the their home, and it will be quite possible from that and her memories for Robin to lead them back.
            The dragons fly straight, preferring to skirt the coastline.  They marvel at the length of it, not quite understanding the mechanism of shadow travel, even if they can observe the practice.  Robin occasionally notices riders quickly looking behind them, for landmarks that are no longer there.
            The dragons fly for about a day, (or would have if the sun had not moved several times for Robin's convenience) and then stop for an evening's rest.  The stopping place is like and unlike the cave in the Isles that Robin remembers.  This seems more volcanic and the dragons seem more at home.
            In the morning, M'Corli shouts out.  He thinks he can see better, although it's all fuzzy.

Robin is all smiles and excitement for M’Corli after deciding that she’d rather just congratulate him and wish him the best instead of guessing aimlessly about what’s going on.  ‘Cause sometimes the universe doesn’t want you looking.
            Other than that, Robin will gently check to see if Hoshith, Maranth, Antrith, Peleth or any of the others have anything to say about the way home.  If they don’t, that’s fine.  Robin’s used to laconic beings.

[Does Robin have any agenda along the way back?  We'll hit Calusa when you're done here...]

[No agenda prior to arriving in Calusa, other than vastly enjoying the flight and the company – despite the circumstances.  Oh, though some safe flirting with L’tarn is definitely in order.]

Spirits rise, somewhat, as they realize they're going home.  It's been a long war, two wars, really.  The dragons seem to be getting some color back, especially the golds and greens.

L'tarn knows some beautiful, unspoiled isolated spots that are only accessible by dragonback, which he thinks Robin would appreciate...

And Robin is very appreciative.  But not in any way that would endanger her relationship with Vere... even though she’s not totally sure what way that would be...

Kourin has asked Robin for several stops to resupply along the way.  The riders don't want to be a burden to their home when they arrive.

They need food, leathers, firestone, and Agenothree.  Luckily, they can show you all of those things.

Not a problem at all.  Robin will ask if there’s anything in specific they need or would like and will arrange stops convenient to that.

M'corli's vision continues to improve, although it's still frequently blurry and he gets headaches.

Outside Robin is happy.  Inside Robin worries and will do what she can to help the headaches and blurriness.  She does some things along the lines of herbal remedies and any eye-exercises/treatments that Robin may have picked up from her time among the Rangers.  Though she will do a little light testing of the waters conjuration-wise.

Both the healer and M'corli are grateful for Robin's help, although there's no obvious change.

Robin looks ahead, working from the final visualization from the Dragonriders.  Shifting while flying is an entirely different prospect; it takes place on a different scope.  Everything falls into place: the moons, the sea, the color of the sand, the false dawn, and the distant mountains.

M'hall calls for a four hour rest on the beach, and orders everyone to ground.

He gathers L'tarn, V'laren, and Kourin for an impromptu council with Robin. When they are alone, M'hall looks at her.  "Lady Robin, this looks exactly like our home.  Are you sure it is?"

L'tarn looks at his leader.  "Your friend can't hear his weyrmates either?"

V'laren and Kourin look very worried.

“I’m about as sure as I can be, Weyrleader.”  Robin’s universe is very wide so she’s reluctant to be more firm.  “Maybe, we could investigate around here for a little while before widening the search pattern?”  Deep Green, she whispers to herself, let’s hope the time-slip hasn’t been too bad.

"We saw fishing boats in the distance the day before yesterday, but I don't think we were actually here yet," muses V'laren.

L'tarn looks up.  "Want me to go to the Citadel?  It's the oldest and the Weyr is practically on top of the Hold proper."

M'hall nods.  "Good idea.  I'll want frequent reports, Wingleader."

L'tarn nods.  He turns to Robin.  "Lady, will you accompany me or will you stay here?"

Kourin smiles, and M'hall looks somewhat surprised.

"You know?  I think I'd like to go."  Robin chirps with a grin and bounces over to L'tarn's side.  "After all, if nothing else I can keep you two out of trouble."  Oh, yeah.  That's going to happen.

L'tarn bows a half-bow to Kourin.  "With your permission, we go to see what can be seen."

He offers his arm to Robin and leads her to Maranth.  The big bronze looks amused, but he often does.  It reflects his rider.  "Thanks for coming
along.  I'm the only one from the Citadel Weyr who's coming back from this war, which is why I'm the one to come back here.  It's our oldest and most
prosperous settlement."

“Thanks for inviting me.  I’m looking forward to seeing the place that spawned you two.”  Robin teases with a smile that crinkles the corners of her eyes.
            “Hi, Maranth.” She practically sings as she clambers aboard the great bronze, thumping him fondly once she’s seated.

The flight is brief, Maranth takes only a little distance to get off the ground, and then the blackness the riders call "between", with it's utter cold and darkness and lack of feeling for seconds that seem like lifetimes in an underground cell and then bursting into the sky again, the warmth of the sun beating on those a-dragonback.

Robin shouts happily once the sun returns, letting her shout chase away the dark memories that threaten her soul every time she’s between.

L'tarn whistles, long and low.  Below them is a fishing harbor, a cave with some masts inside it.  Of the great central settlement of the plain, there is no sign.

“Hmmmmmm.....” Robin muses.  “I really didn’t think I was that off.”  A frown pulls down her lips.  Can we check over there?”  She points out toward the plain.  Gently, gently Robin begins to fan the flames blue fire that is the Pattern within her a little higher, seeing what she can sense about this shadow.

L'tarn nods, and the muscles of the great bronze lift them higher into the air, flying into the wind.  The citadel mountain range stops abruptly and the plains roll out where foothills should be, but aren't.
            Something is very odd about the flow of time here.  This place has been tampered with, but not very recently.
            "The watch stones are missing," L'tarn says, pointing to a high peak.

"Crap," Robin mutters under her breath.  "Okay, L'tarn?  What do you guys do to access historical data here?  Skalds?  Libraries?"  She's betting against nanotech databases but ya never know.

"Harpers, Lady.  They have the grandest hall in the entire Citadel complex.  Right there, between the gather square and the masterherder's animal pens.  He points in the general direction of a mossy pile of rocks.

"Would you guys mind dropping me down?" She points to where the foothills aren't. "I... want to look the dirt over."

L'tarn nods and glides to the north.  Maranth drops quickly from the sky, snapping out of his fall near the bottom, his wings making a loud *clap*. L'tarn offers her his hand.  It all looks right to Robin, but she hasn't spent much time here.

A trill of glee escapes Robin at the dive and she is practically giggling at Maranth's aerobatics when she accepts L'tarn's hand down.  Once her feet are on the ground, she gives the big bronze a fond hug.  "Thank you, Maranth, that was awesome!!! We have to do that again, sometime!"
When she returns her attention to L'tarn her eyes are sparkling and her color is high.  "Soooo, rocks."  And she heads over that way.

[OOC - What Robin is doing is using her trail skills to investigate the clump of rocks and the ground around here.  Mostly she is checking to see if there are deeply aged ruins or remnants of a once-great settlement or not.
            Also, Michael, I want to be sure that I understood your earlier post correctly - are the foothills not, because Robin remembers them being there and they aren't now.  Or are they not because geologically-speaking this land should have foothills at the base of the mountains and it is unusual that there are none.]

[They should be there geologically but they aren't.  Tall mountains like this should have foothills.  It's unclear why they don't.  If Robin was at Citadel before, she'd've seen the same thing (note this is the other side of the continent from where J'rim was).]

L'tarn takes a sharp stick and starts sketching in the dirt.  "Here was a large building, three dragonlengths across with brass shutters on this face.  There were nine outbuildings around the central hall and over here was a tower for sending drum messages.  This forest was a gather field, and there were stables and other outbuildings throughout the area.  The main dwellings of the Citadel Landhold were across that rill.  They were stone buildings made from rock cut from that mountain and expanding back into the caves from the second ledge.  There were good cart paths from the port there past the Harper Hall and the Hold and up to the Weyr."  The drawing is as clear as can be done in the dirt with a stick.
            "There's no way it's ever been here."  He's sure.  "The harbor cave looks right, although it may have been expanded internally.  I can see some masts, so someone is here or was recently."
            If someone is here, it's not someone who comes running out to meet a dragon and his riders.

As L’tarn starts drawing in the dirt, Robin wanders back over to him.
            “Hmmmm... okay.  So we’re not where we should be.”  Robin rubs the back of her neck while she thinks.  She narrows her eyes for a moment and calls the Pattern to mind.  Reviewing her flight here, Robin ponders the possibility that someone is messing with her path.  Kind of like Dad and the King did to those bastards Corwin and... the King.  Pfui!

Robin uses her skills with the pattern and looks for evidence of tampering and finds none.  The shadow is, as far as she can tell, where she intended to be.
            The only thing she notices is that it feels, somehow, like Xanadu.  Fresh.
            An uncarved block.

Eyes still narrowed in thought, the girl chews on her lip worriedly.  Eventually, she curses mildly under her breath and looks over at L’tarn.  “L’tarn?  I’m not sure what’s going on, but I’m starting to get some theories.  Aaaannnddd I think I want to talk to everyone at once.  If you and Maranth want to do something – scare up mast builders or anything – I’m fine with it.  But I’m pretty much done out here, myself.”  She grins at him, having talked herself into a better mood just by resting her eyes on the fine looking bronze rider.

"We don't scare people if we can help it.  We know that they're there, and they're not coming out.  Let's head back to the Weyr.  Maybe Kourin will have an idea, because I have none."  He stands and brushes his the dirt from his hands on his leather pants.

Robin's smile grows gentle as she reminds herself that the whole crew is tired of being demons by this point.  "Okay," she nods.  But the grin is back as she clambers aboard Maranth once more and snuggles up against L’tarn’s warm back.

Maranth launches himself effortlessly from the ground and lifts himself with long, slow sweeps of his wings into a thermal.  He spirals up to near the peaks of the Citadel mountains, and hovers for a moment.
            "Ready, Robin?  We're about to--"  He stops mid-sentence.  "Shells!  Maranth, tell Hoshith, Tell--"
            Anything further he planned to say is drowned out in the great bronze's bugling roar.  To the south, in the direction Maranth is facing, sheets of rain are have started falling into the sea from the cloudless sky.

Robin stiffens against L’tarn’s back.  Something is going on, she's definitely certain of that.  But what?  She has no clue.  And since she doesn't know, the Ranger makes herself small against L'tarn's back, checks her weapons, brings the Pattern to mind, holds on tight and waits for it.

Maranth blinks out and existence disappears without even a sound.  The nothingness lasts the expected three heartbeats.  The dark seems colder
somehow.
                The blast of air when reality returns is hot and fast.  Maranth veers down quickly for a landing, and Robin needs to hold on tight.  L'tarn turns
backwards, trusting his partner to land them.  Below, the entire contingent of dragons and riders is in motion, fitting straps on dragons, loading
sacks, dumping cargo.
            "Threadfall, Robin!  Those people don't have a chance without dragonfire.  M'hall agrees, we're fighting."  It's clear he's listening with his mind
to his partner.  "I'm to drop the little sister off and join my wing."
            Above the rapidly descending Maranth, dragons are forming into squadrons.  Robin sees little bursts of flame from the mouths of the smaller greens and blues.

Robin’s curse is deep and heartfelt.  “Maranth?  Would you kindly tell Rakshath to let M’Hall know that he can order the little sister to the ground ‘cause it’s his command.  But later I will personally take every injury I could’ve prevented out of his hide.”

Maranth's bugle sounds angry.
            "That's beyond what he can say, Robin, but I'll remember it.  He knows you're unhappy, but that's all."

“Fair enough.” Robin nods curtly.  She doesn’t want to spread her anger to the lovely L’tarn or the magnificent Maranth.  But her lips are pressed tight and her eyes are snapping green fire.

The dragon lands quick and hard, his muscles bunched for a quick takeoff.  L'tarn helps Robin down, mostly by sheer muscle, and begins adjusting the
straps on Maranth into a fighting configuration.  Maranth leans down and starts chewing on the sharp smelling rocks the dragonriders call
'firestone'.

The minute Maranth’s claws are down, Robin leaps for the ground.  She touches L’tarn’s assist politely but she doesn’t really need it.  As the boys prepare for battle, she looks over at them fondly.
            “You two take care, okay.”

"I'm sorry, Robin.  The fall won't last more than six hours total and it's had already started.  We'll be back soon.  Look after M'corli, he's also grounded."

“I will.” She nods again, her frown deepening.  Grounded with injured – it’s an important job she knows, but it’s also one that has been used to conveniently get her out of the way in the past.  Bleah.
                Then her eyes grow calculating.  M’corli will know what’s going on.  Maybe he can explain it enough to her that she can be of some help after all.  And then... he would to.  Got it.  Robin’s determination grows.  They’ll just see what the injured and inexperienced can do on this ‘fall.’

In moments the dragons and riders are aloft in fighting formations, and they disappear by wings.
            M'corli comes over to Robin.  "So, you were elected my babysitter, then? At least I didn't cost him another fighting dragon."  He looks angry.

“I have no intention of baby-sitting you M’Corli,” Robin states definitively. After all, this is the guy who jumped Vianis all on his own.  “In fact, I’m counting on you to help me give your comrades the back-up they deserve without getting anyone killed.”
            Robin looks up at the sky. (OOC - is any of the action nearby enough to be visible?)  “So, what exactly is going on?  And how can it go very, very right?”

"It's a plague unique to Calusa.  When the Red Star approaches, thread falls from it to Calusa,   Ravenous, mindless, strings of harm that come in sheets from the sky in somewhat predictable patterns.  They burn through men and dragons and destroy crops and wildlife.  Infestations of it can destroy a forest in days.  Dragons fight it, flying and burning it from the sky.  There have been 13 passes and 13 intervals, and I guess it's the fourteenth pass now, which means it's been 200 years."  He blinks, not quite focusing on Robin.

"What I don't understand is where the Weyrs are.  We have 7. Surely someone would have been there ahead of the fall to watch for signs of early fall or
to coordinate with ground crews."

“Weeellll, I’m not really sure what’s going on, M’corli.”  Robin allows.  “I’m still investigating.  It could be the fourteenth pass... or it could be the first.”
            She looks over to him and Antrith.  “But that can wait for later.  You guys are fighting now.  And let’s assume no back-up is coming.  Soooo, how do we help your comrades in the air?”

M'corli thinks for a second.  "If it's a long fall, we can ferry firestone sacks to riders who've used theirs up.  We can go to these caves and try to get some ground crews together." He frowns.  "I wish we could fight.  We don't have enough dragons to spare Antrith and she's perfectly capable of it."

“I’m leaning toward fighting too.  Is it your eyesight that grounding the two of you?  Can we use my eyes somehow?”  Besides, things she can see she can effect.

M'corli says "Hey, that's an idea!  Most of what I do is reassure Antrith and act as a second set of eyes.  If you were with us, you could tell me where the thread was and we could rejoin the wing!"
            Antrith makes what can only be described as an encouraging croon.
            "C'mon, help me rig the fighting straps!"

“You got it!” Robin chirrups in delight and sets to work.  Riggin’ straps is something she can definitely do.  [OOC – Is there a way to rig the straps such that Robin can sit behind and a little higher than M’corli?]

M'corli suggests that Robin attach an extra sack of firestone to her seat so that she can get the vantage she's looking for.
            Soon enough the green dragon, so similar to Hoshith and Maranth, except for hue and size, is strapped down, loaded with firestone, mounted, and aloft.
            M'corli leans back and turns his head to Robin.  "Keep your flying leathers buttoned, even if it's hot, because we may have to duck thread at any time.  We'll start off by ferrying extra firestone to the wings, that's what they need and I've done it often enough that I know who needs it. ... Yes, Antrith, you can always ask as well.  Your job is to spot clumps of thread, either that are closing in on us or that we can fly down and flame.  It's important not to let us get hit, because thread burns skin and dragonhide and it hurts like crazy.  It kills, if it's a bad hit.  We'll go between if any of us get scored.
            "Antrith is fast and agile, but she's not built like a bronze.  She can turn pretty well.  I'll show you that while we're carrying stone.
            He smiles.  "Any questions?"

Robin is grinning like a maniac.  Fighting and flying?  There’s only one thing better than that and he’s not here right now.
            The Ranger asks a few pertinent questions regarding the appearance and behavior of airborne thread.  And then a few perhaps more worrisome questions about Antrith’s balance and maneuverability with regards to her own weight and momentum.
            Otherwise she’s all eyes and ears on the entire three-dimensional sphere of engagement.

"She'll be fine.  It's not a full fall and we're tossing off the sacks of firestone just after we get there."
            The little green dragon practices maneuvers with the second rider and Robin gets used to them.  Riding a dragon in fighting trim is a different experience than just riding.

[OOC - How 'loose in the saddle' can Robin get?  Both safety-wise, ability-wise and not-freaking-out-your-comrades-wise? 'Cause, yep, Robin definitely has stunt-rider tendencies.]

[OOC: In order to go between, Robin must be physically touching Antrith.  If she were to be separated, even if still strapped on, there is a realistic chance that she would not go between, but the dragon would.  At that point we would be discussing falling more than flying, in a context were 20d6 might be meaningful in other systems.
            Robin can, within that parameter, try to give herself more freedom. The dragons have ridges on their backs and people sit between those.  Consider it to be similar to a B17 Flying Fortress with humps like a camel, except more maneuverable and prone to teleport away from danger.]

M'corli grins and turns back to her.  "And I have permission to deliver replacement firestone.  Here we go!"

Robin's response is a wordless whoop of joy and excitement.

On that little warning, Antrith takes them between.  The blackness engulfs Robin and there is nothing but nothingness in her world for three heartbeats.
The world returns and she is back over the same cave complex she left just a few hours ago.  The major differences now is that the sky is filled with flying flaming dragons.  Robin sees four wings, including the low-flying queen's wing.  "I expected we'd see more injuries.  It's been years since we flew against thread."
            Robin can see, out over the ocean, the same gray haze she saw before is,  perhaps, lessening.  Overhead, the dragons form a line and dart up and down.  The thread is as M'corli described: lightly tangled masses of writhing cords of something.  Before it can fall to the ground below, the dragons incinerate it.  It doesn't seem as if there is that much of it, but the dragonriders are acting as if it is the most dangerous thing in the world.

Having seen the scars, Robin is completely willing to believe it is the most dangerous thing in this world - barring herself.  After all, she's from Arden where innocuous looking so does not equate with safe.  And so she devotes herself entirely to keeping an eye out for the stuff and aiding M'corli and Antrith as best as she can.

M'corili first finishes the resupply run that is his allowed task, then positions himself on the flank of L'tarn's wing.  Robin sees the weaving pattern they use, with two wings fighting at a time, and the third recovering their position.  Below them, crossing their path and in what should be clear skies, the queen's wing catches thread that the wings missed.
            The green dragon waits with her wing, and when the order is given, they move in to attack the thread, protecting M'hall's wing as they fight the leading edge of the fall below.  Flying straight at a writhing mass of hot threads and burning it to ash, and flying through the ash and the cloud of phosphine residue followed by the few seconds of nothingness of between and then back to the fight, Robin can tell just why it is that the successful riders are so cocky on land.

[What does Robin want to do to affect probability and/or trick ride?]

The first time Robin is flown through a cloud of warm ash, she whoops exultantly.  And is still whooping when the trio emerges from Between a moment later.  The grin she flashes to M’corli and Antrith is bright in both eyes and teeth.  Keeping in mind, Antrith’s need to manuver suddenly, Robin looses her restraints enough to move about but keeps one hand in contact with the great green at all times.
            It takes the Ranger but a few moments of looking around, under and above Antrith to get a feel for the tactics involved, to become comfortable on her feet, to know the enemy.  And then Robin summons the blue fire that is her heritage into her veins.
            With eyes darting everywhere, this is going to be the luckiest Fall ever flown.  No straps break, no one runs out of stone, no thread jukes suddenly, no thread appears unexpectedly, etc. etc.

Robin quickly gets a feel for the world and finds that it is quite receptive to manipulation by a pattern initiate.  The flight is smooth, but constantly busy.  There is a definite rhythm, and the dragons manage, with the help of Robin's influence, to successfully ride the fall.  However, she can see how it would be better with a few hundred dragons.
            Robin notices it a few seconds before M'corli, but after perhaps a ship's watch the thread fall starts to end.
            "We did it!" says M'corli.
            Suddenly there is a loud, angry bugle from one of the other wings.
            "Oh, shells!  That's Rakshath.  We're in for it now.  Hang on..."
            Before Robin can comment, Antrith has gone between, the dark enveloping him and his riders and the nothingness shocking them for long seconds.
            The green dragon is back over their supply cache, and M'corli turns to Robin.  "I meant to leave before he noticed," he explains.

Robin is repressing a snicker and her eyes are still bright.  "Okay, I'm not worried about M'hall on my account.  But what do we do for you?"  Her smile is conspiratorial.  Obviously this woman spends too much time around L'tarn.

Robin sees a dragon pop into the sky above her.  "Maranth", says M'corli.
            Soon L'tarn and Maranth are on the ground, and L'tarn is striding over to Robin.
            He looks at the rider and the ranger.  "Just because I knew you were going to do that, doesn't mean it was a good idea.  M'corli, your father is
furious."

“About what, really?” Robin says her own temper starting to swell a little, “That his people are thinking independently enough and are capable enough to bring their skills to his aid despite himself?  That his adult dragonrider son is fine and ready to go back into the life both he and his son have chosen?  Or maybe that ‘little sister’ is not just some grounded twit who can’t do anything other than distract the fightin’ men?”
            With a gulp, Robin sucks it back, waving an apologetic hand at L’tarn.  It’s not him, she’s mad at.

"Really?" says M'corli.  "He's really mad that I'm not a bronze rider."
            L'tarn looks at M'corli, eyebrow raised.  "And you're not in the least resentful that you can't ever please him?  It's going to be a long time before there's two weyrs here, so you have to figure out how to live with each other."
            The older rider turns to Robin.  "What I say from here depends on whether you're staying or you're leaving."

“Staying?  Oh....”  Robin looks sad.  “You know I love you guys.  From kick-ass Maranth to the awesome and extremely talented Antrith,” her tone indicates that anyone who could possibly think less of Antrith is obviously a big poop-head, “but no.  I’m here to get you guys situated - and we’ll have to talk about what that means.  But in the end... Arden calls.  I have to go home... sooner or later.”
            The sadness in Robin’s green eyes deepens until she waves it away with a faltering smile.

L'tarn nods.  "It's to be expected.  J'lin and J'rim always felt the pull and they had their friends to anchor them here.  This is a battle that Kourin and M'hall and V'laren and I know how to fight.  It's not an easy thing, but it's not mechanical flying machines or wyverns that turn into dragons that turn into allies.
            "You may want to be gone when M'hall gets back."

"Gone?  As in 'take a walk'?  'Cause I'm not ready to abandon you guys just yet.  But if you think it'll go better for you if I'm not standing right here when M'hall gets in, I'm willin' to wander for a ways."

L'tarn nods.  "I think it'll go better for us, I think it'll go better for you, and I think it'll go better for M'hall.  If you face him down, how can he lead?  There are only a score of us and we'd all know that J'rim's sister had no confidence in M'hall.
            "We know how to save this place, our way.  You can't change that unless you stay, and impress a queen yourself."

"Overturn Calusa's society, right L'tarn?" She says with an ironic twist to her lips.  "Nope, that isn't my plan."
            Those green eyes turn away from the riders.  "Oh, look!  Bunnies!"  With much effervescence and only a little sarcasm, Robin bounds away to 'play' with something small, furry and cute that's caught her eye weeeellll away from the approaching drama.  The Ranger figures she pounce or purr depending on what she finds and is in the mood for when she gets there.

Local fauna tends to be either reptiloid or fishy.  What Robin saw that looked like bunnies are, on closer examination, miniature flying dragons, no more than a few feet long.  They are small and cute, and seem to have the trick of going between as well.  They don't seem to be particularly afraid of her, but they aren't getting too close, either.
        As she leaves, L'tarn and M'corli exchange glances.  They begin to remove Maranth's fighting harness.

Robin ties to tempt the litte flying dragons closer with jerky treats from her beltpouch and soft crooning (or something similar to whatever sounds they may be making.)  She knows she should be thinking of something tactical or investigating or something.  But honestly, she's tired.  And just wants to enjoy the sun and the cute critters.  All the while, keeping one ear out behind her for when it's safe to come back.
            But she will keep an eye out for Hoshith and Kourin.

The little dragonets are hungry.  Very, very hungry.  Robin can feel their hunger, and their gratitude as she feeds them.  One of them, slightly larger than the rest, and bolder, hops on Robin's forearm and takes the treats directly from her hand.  She looks into her eyes and Robin can feel the creature's emotions directly.  It occurs to her that the little queen, for she's golden in color, is imprinting on her.

It's a measure that Robin's growing up somewhat that she actually hesitates for a moment.  But lately, her life has been filled with so much death that the girl leaps at the chance to embrace life once again.  She looks deeply into the little gold's eyes happy and welcoming.
            As for the rest of them, in this Pattern-happy land, Robin certainly has enough treats for everyone.  And, having grown up amidst tumbling crowds of cute carnivores (Hell-Hound puppies, anyone?) Robin knows how to not let it get out of hand.

There is a larger one, an older queen some distance away, but Robin can never manage to tempt her to eat.  The little queen eats until she is full and then begins directing the others, or so it seems.  She's got an innate sense of fairness and duty and each gets fed in turn.

Robin smiles and, since fairness and duty are there, lets the little queen have her way.

The little queen has definitely imprinted on Robin, and it's clear to Robin that they are empath-projectors, if not full telepaths like their cousins.  Perhaps that will come with age.  The queen thinks Robin is the strongest, smartest provider and friend a dragon could have.

Weeeelllll, Robin can think of better but she's probably good enough.  Conversely, Robin is totally convinced that Peep is the most beautiful, smartest, and best friend a provider could have.

After feeding, Robin begins to feel very sleepy, as if she needs a nap in the nice warm sun.

Robin purrs a little under the influence of the trio of empath-projectors.  Half-shut eyes take in the area surrounding them.  A careful ear is cocked toward the dragons and their riders.  But if nothing presents itself as dangerous, Robin will scootch back into a sheltered place, put her sword across her knees and Ranger-nap.

Robin wakes up to a sense of warning.  She sees three heads turned to look down the beach.  Walking towards her is Kourin.  Peep gives an experimental hiss, but not a long or serious one.  The boys spread their wings, puffing up.
            Robin suspects that as soon as they get over being sleepy and worried, they'll be hungry again.

A fond smile drifts across Robin’s face.  She tries to emote her sense of protectiveness and respect for Kourin to Peep, Chirrup and Ooot.  Kourin is part of Robin’s clutch, though she doesn’t know her well.  Sheathing her sword, Robin gives her friends time to settle themselves before standing.  But even as she comes to her feet, the girl’s hand is dipping into her belt-pouch for lizard breakfast.
            “Kourin.” She calls with a quick wave.

"Robin, we need to talk about the weyr--  Those are Fire Lizards! "
   
This startles the little creatures who fly up and start circling Robin.  They take a moment to settle, and Peep wraps her tail around Robin's neck and buries her head in the Ranger's hair.

Kourin stays still, allowing Robin to settle them.

Robin strokes Peep’s head all the while humming to her what a good girl she is.  Chirrup and Ooot get strokes with the other hand and warm smiles too.  Once the trio is calmed down somewhat, Robin turns glittering eyes on Kourin.
            “Fire Lizards, eh?  That sounds promising.”  Oh, the devilment that dances behind the green there for a while.  Then Robin calms down and performs introductions.  “Kourin?  Please met Peep, Chirrup and Ooot.”  As she introduces them, Robin does not so much say the words ‘Peep,’ ‘Chirrup’ and 'Ooot,' as make fire-lizard-like noises herself.  “Guys?  Meet Kourin.”
            Any lizard feeling shy, though, doesn’t need to brave the weyrwoman.

Kourin holds her hand out to allow Peep to sniff of it.  She does so and then Kourin starts to stroke her eye-ridge.  Peep practically purrs.
            "Yes, if we can find more clutches, we can train them to help the locals, who we've made contact with.  They're terrific at ground sweeps.  One of the criteria for coming on this expedition was not having a Fire Lizard, since they'd have to come and that wasn't fair.”

Robin's brow wrinkles but she holds her question for now.  Kourin seems like a woman on a mission.

"The rest of this clutch must be gone by now, but we'll send out some patrols along the shore here.  We'll teach you what you need to know to take care of them.  You'll need to get a supply of oil for their skin.  It can't be allowed to crack, as that can be fatal when they go between."

Robin's head bobs eagerly.  She definitely does not want anything fatal to happen to her little group.

Peep likes the Weyrwoman, although it's clear that Peep also thinks she smells funny.

The Ranger thinks so too.  But since it's probably the great and wonderful Hoshith that Peep is smelling, it's okay.

Kourin looks at Robin for a moment.  "We've organized into a proper weyr.  We'll be taking over the Citadel and trying to make a go of it.  We've contacted the town and they're still in shock, but willing to help us.
            "We're home, even if it's not the way we remember it, and I'm to officially thank you for your efforts in getting us back here.  M'hall is leading the Weyr until we have a proper mating flight to choose a Weyrleader."

Robin's green eyes blink.  That was fast.  Then again, it's nice to have someone work to a reasonable timetable, instead of an eternally-talkie Danu one.  However....
            "Kourin?  Is that what all of you want?  Is that what you want?" Those green eyes become laser sharp and all of Robin's senses focus on the answer.  M'hall, for all that he is a hero of Amber, a Ruby Knight, bronze rider and weyrleader, does *not* get to pick for Jovian's woman.  Ever.

Kourin smiles.  "This is what we all grew up knowing we had to do, what we've trained and sacrificed our whole lives to be able to do.  We live and die to fight thread.  It's why there are dragons, and why I'm with Hoshith. Of course it's what I want."

Fair enough." Robin turns down the arclights and nods with a quiet smile.  That dedication is certainly something she understands.  Not surprising, considering it's ultimate source.
            "Before I go..." The Ranger reaches into an interior vest pocket and pulls out her wooden card case.  "I... think he'd want you to have this."  Robin removes her Trump of Julian.  "You guys are heroes and truly saved us.  Thank you.  If you ever need us, stare into his picture and think of him."  She holds out the card to Kourin.
            "'Course it's only going to work about half of the time so don't wait until you're dangling off of the cliff, K?" She finishes wryly.

"Dangling off a cliff, I know how to solve," says Kourin, looking back at her partner affectionately.  "I will keep this and hope that we are never is such danger that we need call on J'lin."
            She reaches out and takes Robin's hand.  "Thank you," she says.

Robin uses Kourin’s hand to pull the queenrider into a big hug.  “Thank you.”
            After she releases Kourin, she looks around innocently,  “Sooooo, do I get to say goodbye to folks or am I supposed to just vanish into the night?”  A wry tick tugs at the side of her mouth.

"You are our honored guest and the kinswoman of two brave dragonmen.  Citadel Weyr considers you our friend.  M'hall would never be inhospitable, although he does feel we have much work to do and hopes to limit distractions."

That gets a wry grin from Robin and a nod.  She'll keep it short.

She sighs.  "Please come back and eat with us.  Everyone will want to see your Fire Lizards, and give you all the advice you can handle about them.  Just don't talk about this afternoon.  M'corli and L'tarn got in enough trouble over it already."

[OOC - I'm assuming the Trump moved into Kourin's possession somewhere in there.  :) ]

[Like Magic!  Or like a detail that's assumed but not explicitly called out!  Almost exactly like the latter, in fact!]

"Alright."  There's a little bit of a grump in Robin's voice.  She's willing to let it go for M'corli and L'tarn's sake.  And for the sake of not disrupting the very great Dragonriders but.... grump, grump.
            Then the girl lifts herself out of it.  "I'd love to eat with you guys.  Thanks.  Verde, I'm hungry!  Think it must be my little friends.  What's on the spit?"  She says as she throws an arm around Kourin's shoulders (if the queenrider is comfortable with it) and starts walking back the way Kourin came gathering her most wonderful little fair with herself.

"I've no idea, we're eating with our new holders at Citadel.  Unless I'm wrong, it'll be fish.  C'mon, we're heading to their holding now."

Well, fish isn’t Robin’s favorite food but it’ll do.  So she trips along after the queenrider.

Kourin returns to the beach, which is even more barren than when Robin was left here with M'corli.  Hoshith sits, waiting.  Her hide is a rich red-gold in the sunset and it takes Robin some time to settle her fire-lizard fair on the great dragon for the trip.  Hoshith, the fire-lizards agree, is very large.

And very fine, Robin assures them as well.
            She greets the gold with a big smile and thumps her fondly once settled.

Kourin pops them out of between above the beach they so recently defended from the thread, and swiftly lands by her weyr-mates.  The bronze dragons seem quite interested in her arrival.
            They head to the beach, where the villagers and the dragonriders are eating.  Robin is warmly greeted and there is much interest in her fire-lizards.

Robin returns the greetings with enthusiasm and shows off her new friends to all.  It’s readily apparent that Robin is very, very, very fond of the trio and is more than willing to listen to any and all advice about how to keep them healthy and happy.  It’s also apparent that Robin is no stranger to caring for non-humans.

It doesn't take Robin long to notice that while everyone is trying to be pleasant in front of strangers, the dragonriders are clearly divided into two camps, one of which centers around L'tarn and the other around M'hall.

Yep.  The bronzes’ attention, Hoshith’s color shift, “mating flight,” Robin gets it.  She also does her best not to swing the vote – if there is one.  At the same time, she doesn’t hide the fact that she personally prefers L’tarn’s company over M’hall’s.  But as for leadership capabilities... well, that looks like that’s going to be Hoshith’s call.
            Robin’s time at the dinner is spent seeing if the guys need anything else and if not, saying goodbyes and thank yous.  She wants them all to know that they are heroes and that both Amber and Danu owe them a huuuuggee debt and a lot of gratitude.  Special goodbyes are made to M’corli and the marvelous Antrith, to T’lon and Peleth, T’dor and Shaylith, V’laren and Hyloth, M’hall and Rakshath and she’ll see if she can sneak L’tarn away for a very special goodbye.  (Which will not be written about anywhere a cousin can find it.  ;)

L'tarn is sneakable awaywith.  The evening is, per the player’s explicit directions, indescribable. :)
            He tells her not to worry about him.  He expects to be Weyrleader soon and then all bets are off,  and even if he doesn't, there's no way he won't get a wing back when the weyr starts growing, which it will.  He thinks M'hall will make an excellent weyrlingmaster.  Or, shells, V'laren might sneak in and take it, which would be hilarious...

Robin’s leave taking of Kourin and Hoshith is warm and full of hugs for them both.
            And sometime in the night, as the party winds down, Robin will take her fair and set her foot homewards.