When you're good to Mama

[S'yal]

Mama had been pacing back and forth for days, and Z knew as he always did that his Wher was soon to run. Their bond was too strong for him not to sense that Zalmask was frustrated and proddy. He was currently sitting crosslegged on the sands of the beach and watching her pace, a look of amusement on his handsome face. What was she up to? He knew she wanted to run, but she seemed to be resisting her instincts.

"What's up, Mama?" He questioned his Zalmask, who paused to nudge her head against him with an anxious croon. It took only a second for him to get the message. "Oh, don't worry about your Clutch. If that old Warden tries to cull any of your babies, i'll punch 'im in the face." He smacked her golden rump, earning a snap in his direction for his efforts. "Off ya go." She was torturing herself, and already Bronzes and the rare Brown had begun to slink into the area as they awaited the beginning of the run.

With a bellow Zalmask gave in to her savage instincts, throwing herself forward as she bounded over the moonlit beach. Before she had run in the jungle and this was her first time on the beach. She quickly learned this was a foolish choice... as her broad paws passed over the sand she sank in and this slowed down her bounds by a great deal. Was she a lighter and slimmer Queen, she would not have sunk in. But she did... and she hated it!

Maggots! Get bronze asses out here! She was picking up things from her Handler, I see...

But if her winner was a nice gentleman, Mama would give him a nice treat indeed...

[Wren]

((Seeing as we only have one other male wher, I thought I’d bring Dirrisk in to make things a little more interesting. Don’t worry, I don’t expect him to win or anything, it’s just for fun ))

---

Had it been any other night, Dirigion and Dirrisk would have been patrolling the borders of Warden’s as far away as Dirigion could possibly manage from other human beings, and thus doubtless out of the radius of Zalmask’s Call. Tonight though, was their night off, and the two were deep within the Weyr, both relaxing with a rather cheap bottle of wine, yes, Dirrisk was drinking it too.

At one point the wher raised his head from the bowl he’d been lapping from every now and again and began to look around, almost as if searching for the source of a sound. He slowly got up, quivering with excitement, and Dirigion groaned as he recognised the now-familiar feeling of sheer lust rolling off the blue. Did this have to happen tonight? On his night off? Why couldn’t it wait until it could get him out patrolling.

Dirrisk was already heading for the door, but Dirigion made him pause with a strong mental shout. Once the wher was looking at him he asked, Dirrisk, which one is it?

The wher was quiet for a moment, thinking, then answered, Zalmask

Dirigion stared at the wher with a raised eyebrow. He knew the name Zalmask, and there was no chance in all of Pern that Dirrisk would catch her. Perhaps the wine was messing with the blue's head; he had drunk almost half a bottle. The gold? Don’t be dull Dirrisk.

The wher whimpered and looked between his handler and the door, conflicted between his desire to obey his handler and his much baser instinct to chase a running female. Dee not want Dirrisk run? He asked.

The wher sounded almost pleading, and Dirigion shrugged; what did it matter if the wher did chase? He’d get tired half way through and come back dejected, and by morning he’d have forgotten the whole thing. Letting him chase when he so clearly wanted too could hardly do him much harm. No, go, but if it’s all the same to you, I’ll stay here. He took another swig from his wineskin.

In mere moments, the wher had pushed his way through the door and was trotting up to the surface. He knew where Zalmask was, somehow, and his feet took him on a sure course to the beach, though by the time he got there the race had already begun, and his bright, lamp-like eyes could see Zalmask already approaching with a following mass of bronzes with the odd brown. Dirrisk was not put off by the lack of other blues, in fact he didn’t even notice. The only thing he knew in his ever so slightly wine-muddled mind was that he wanted to catch Zalmask. He darted out onto the sand just as the queen went past, and he fell into step only a length or two behind her. His lighter body was better adapted for the sand, and he didn’t sink in so much with each stride, so that, for the moment at least, he could keep up.

[twisting]

He caught the scent on the cool night breeze. The sweet scent he knew so well. Lifting his grizzled body of the jungle floor he left the others to their early evening rituals. The others all paid their respects to their aging queen, but He had his sites set on another golden beauty. She was out there somewhere, waiting for him. Calling to him. The golden packleader called to him once but he ignored her. She was getting to old to keep the respect of the pack. Soon another would take over, driving her out. He knew the day would come, but didn’t relish it. His own day was approaching just as swiftly. Already the younger males had made advances on his position. He’d beaten them all, just as he would be victorious this time.

He reached the edge of the sand waiting quietly for the beauty to run. She was ready, his nose told him that much. He snorted impatiently, normally he would not lower himself to interact with his tame cousins, but a gold run was worth it. He snorted in amusement when the shining beauty finally bellowed her challenge and took off across the sands. Her heavy body weighed her down, but he was lighter, and wiser. This was not his first run on sands. As he took off after her he kept to the wet sand, it held his weight better and allowed him to close the distance on her. He didn’t speak, words were not his way, he simply ran. When he caught her, there would be enough interaction for him.


(ooc: Just a wild bronze to spice things up)

[Spiffy]

The air seemed thick with the smell. The bronze where recognised it immediately, as did several others. But this was not the scent of their gold, their pack leader, he could tell that immediately. This scent was altogether more fresh and sweet, that of a younger queen. The bronze, now approaching his prime, had been watching the human's gold for a while now, knowing that she would run eventually, and he would chase her and he would win her, of that he was sure. And that day had come, and he would cease it with both paws.

Silently he slunk away from the pack, followed by several others. Browns too? Pah! What did they think they had a chance at catching, a wherry? It was a disrespect to the queen for them to think they could catch her. He soon tracked her down, on the beach pacing with her human. She was ready, he was sure. But why was she not running? He watched impatiently from the shadows. Run already!

Then he leapt forward onto the beach, echoing the savage bellow of Zalmask as she too leapt onto the sand. Finally! He would show those browns and other bronzes what it took to catch a queen, a proper queen, not some old relic of the past like the one they followed. He had chased queens before, but had not yet caught any, had always been bested by the older bronzes, but this time he would succeed. He was a much more fitting partner to this beauty of the night.

He was a strong and powerful beast, easily one of the largest among their pack, and his long strides took him rapidly across the beach toward Zalmask, when he stumbled in the light sand. With a growl of anger he ran on, increasing his stride length to regain his place, having been overtaken slightly by a nimbler brown. He snapped at the creature a he pushed forward, but was dismayed when a blue appeared in front of him. In front! How dare he?!?! He roared at the blue. How dare he enter a queen run? He would not stand for the blue insulting Zalmask so!


(( My first wher run, be gentle with me That’s not to say go easy on him though, his ego needs taking down a notch xD ))

[Zen]

It had been a very long time since he’d felt a pull quite like this, and it took the hulking Bronze a moment to figure out what was happening. He stared blurrily down at the water that rushed past his nose, even taking the time to whuff at it with his nose. When he got a lungful of saltwater, he realized that it was not the water that was different. He idly scratched at the skin behind his headknobs with his hind feet, puzzling over the sudden feeling he had. It had taken him a while to even realize that this feeling wasn’t coming from him. His slow mind reacted almost as slowly as his body, which pulled his bronze tail out of the water with, miraculously, a fish clinging to it. With great happiness, the Bronze dug into the fish before remembering about the feeling he felt.

The Bronze was too far away from the Weyr to properly ‘hear’ Zalmask’s call. But the feeling stayed with him and he ambled slowly to the Weyr. It had once been his home, but his handler, having been an old man wanting to get away from the North, had died only a Turn after bringing the Bronze there. He had once been known as Rumoorsk, but now he went by no name. Once his handler had died, Rumoorsk had felt no need to stay with those he had once watched over. He was growing old, anyway, nearly 60 Turns, but he was still as strong as a younger wher. His mind, however, was not the sharpest anymore.

He had been a loner in his Turn of living wild; packs had sought him out for his elderly ways, and some had even tried to fight him but he had held up and persevered. He was no wild wher; he had intelligence to back him up, even if he was slowly losing even that. His best choice of action nowadays was to sit by the banks of the water, stick his tail into the waves, and wait for a fish to come by and snag it. His handler had been a fisherman and had taught him that technique; he could easily have been called a Fisherwher if there were any such thing. As such, he liked calling himself the name his human had given those slimy, yet satisfying, creatures—Fish.

Fish loped to the Weyr and felt the sensation in his stomach grow. With an excited whuff, Fish knew exactly what this strange sensation was. The air was literally tainted with the Gold’s pheromones, signaling that she was Rising to Run. The old Bronze wher gave a little wherish hop-skip, his tiny misshapen wings flaring with happiness. So this is what he’d been feeling! It wasn’t from the water at all (and here he’d gone and sniffed the water and gotten it in his nose!). Fish saw that the Queen already had followers; a Blue and two Bronzes so far. He commended the Blue for trying, but he knew from experience (nearly 56 Turns of experience) that Blues did not readily capture Queens because their stamina was too low, unless the Queen liked the Blue enough.

The old Bronze jogged for a bit, cutting across the sand to join in with the ‘pack’ that chased her, but when he’d reach the back of the pack (as he’d jogged there, not raced), he rolled his shoulders and felt his spine crack. What a wonderful feeling it was to be able to Chase again. Those wild wher packs wouldn’t let him Chase their Queens, but this Queen was from the Weyr—he could smell the familiar tang of the Weyr envelope her and waft around the smell of her pheromones—and no one could tell him he couldn’t Run her. With a wherrish bark, Fish joined in the Chase.

[Lesa]

Haunting music echoed across the quiet of the wher complex, near all wher handlers and beasts out on their rounds. It travelled out, carried by the wind across the prison complex.

Sitar strings flowed under dusky golden fingers, picking precise and sure. The instrument settled against her crossed legs, wooden belly against her left thigh. Her bronze wher growled, claws grinding painfully against the stone-hard dirt floor. Dark eyes glared at him balefully over the neck of the instrument. Yes, she knew Zalmask was going to Run soon. All Handlers knew it, she most of all, working so closely with the gold and her handler. She couldn't wait, Z was, well, Z. He was near everything to her, he and Rishi and Busk were everything to her. To be with him during a Run, it would be... wonderful.

“Vas?” Bujare snapped in Trader, setting the instrument aside silently. Busk just looked at her and headed out the door. Zalmask Runs, he replied in the same language, Let Busk go after his gelibte, she barely had time to nod agreement before he took off towards the beach, bellowing his promise. The Traderwoman stood, orange dress falling around her knees as she set off on an easy lope towards the beach, bare feet tough against the dirt and sand.

Z, her leader, her chief was near. She could feel the pull through Busk as he ran after Zalmask. The bronze’s desire sang through her veins as she skidded to a stop beside Z, sand flying up to caress her face and tangle her hair. The dark haired woman settled, knees folding beneath her as she smirked at him.
“Hello,” she purred, voice a low growl, before turning her attention to the whers Running.

Busk bolted after his heart’s desire, his working partner, his goddess. Zalmask was gorgeous, bright and lovely, with more than enough to her to love forever and ever. His rage only grew at the crowding of Wild ones following her. No! They had no right to her, they did not know her, not like he did. He spread his wings once, then folded them tight against his back to increase his speed, broad feet sinking quick into the loose sand - he diverted to the harder pack near the waves, dancing between the water and the pack of rivals. They didn’t know the gorgeous pain she gave to those that crossed her, how she pushed and pushed and assured everyone around her that she was queen. They didn’t see her like he did, like that as they went on their rounds, keeping the bad ones in, reminding them through pain of the wrongness of their crimes.

She was beautiful in her triumph, running to make them chase her, running to make them work for her, running to make them fight for her. The only male he accepted after her, and barely accepted at that, was Dirrisk. The blue he knew, a good blue. Not good now, not for chasing the goddess meant for Busk. He snarled, shoving at some of the wild ones. He was young, he was strong, he was Hers! No old one would have her. None of them. He would have her, he would have his queen.
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[S'yal]

Zalmask would have been proud of her horde of followers. She would have let out a scream of triumph and just dared the other Gold to collect this many Bronzes! However, there was something tainting her oh so perfect victory. Even the sudden alarm spreading through herh handler did nothing to stop her as she slowly turned her head to focus malevolent red, purple tinged eyes on the Blue that dared to give chase. Did he honestly think to dishonor her by even thinking he had the right to chase her? A more levelminded Zalmask would have let him off with a warning, but the heat coursing through her veins demanded blood. He had to suffer for tainting her Run with his presence! It was only a sudden firm grip in her mind, a sudden order not to maul the Blue that allowed him to keep his life. She wanted to fight off Z's order, but instead she merely put all her weight on her front paws, as if stopping. When the Blue got closer, her back paws would come up... and she'd kick him in the face. Quite hard, actually. The poor little Blue.

She now observed her other chasers, to see if she could place them. Most of them were wild, she noted... with the exception of Busk. That alone would have placed him higher then the rest, but there was something that made her wary of the male. He was young. How could she know if he was worthy when he was hardly more then a hatchling? She snorted, her tail flicking as she transferred from the loose dry sand to the sand that was wet and hardpacked by the crashing waves. She could run for a long time, and she knew it. She was aiming to shake that Blue if he tried to chase any more, and a few of the older wild Bronzes. She knew of the pack they came from, of the ancient gold whose proximity to her always grated against the Gold. Pah. She couldn't blame them for wanting a female with a bit more then their windbag.

She sputtered as a wave crashed onto her, struggling to keep her feet for a mere second before she darted off again. They weren't TRYING hard enough! Rage filled her again as she pressed herself onwards, tongue hanging out of her mouth as she gulped down salty air in an effort to keep herself cool. She'd lead these suckers on a long chase, she would.

"Sup?" Z asked, grinning. "Mama isn't behaving herself... tell Busk not to get up in her face unless he wants to get mauled..." Her purring voice made him arch an eyebrow. They'd hook up no matter what, as she was the only handler to show her face during the Run... but if Busk won it'd be all the sweeter. He grinned at the thought, tilting his head at her even as lust consumed him. The pleasent haze of his mind was nice.

[Zen]

Fish thought this chase was a grand old affair. Besides the obvious exception of the blue wher (and Fish really did commend the wher for his ability to at least try to show Zalmask that he wanted to Chase), the Run consisted of all Bronzes. He was obviously on the farther spectrum of old, though there were a few Bronzes—wild by their smell—who neared his age. Or perhaps it was just his own stench that surrounded him. He would rather it the Queen’s smell, overpowering and wonderfully lovely, that he pushed his legs to go faster.

Speaking of the Queen, Fish could tell that she was a young’n and relatively inexperienced in this environment. His legs were steady and able to keep his hefty body aloft even when racing through the sand that threatened to bring his Chase crashing to an end. But he was steady and his clawed paws dug deftly into the sand, spraying it behind him as if he had been digging something from the sand. The Queen was not so lucky at knowing the terrain, and Fish saw her stumble as a wave crashed into her body, and he surmised that the sand had tripped her legs as the water frothed about her. Fish himself kept to the far side of the water; the closer one got to the water the more saturated the sand was and the more suction it had on the legs. A fisherman (or fisherwher) would know that, and Fish did. He was still close to the Gold, even as she darted forward.

She had put on a burst of speed and Fish, whose mouth was open to catch more air so he wouldn’t be oxygen deprived, kicked up his speed, too. He had been sedentary and unmoving for too long, it seemed, but his wiry muscles had been challenged when fishing and, of course, living on his own. After Turns of living with his handler (poor Rumoorn, Fish barely remembered him due to the wher’s horrid memory), it had taken Fish a while to find his life between fishing and roaming… and generally living his life between the boundaries of the wild wher’s borders.

He snapped at a wher who got too close to him but kept his mind silent. He was able to speak but found there was no need for it. He hadn’t really spoken in a Turn… but that didn’t mean he’d forgotten. He talked to himself all the time… himself and the fish he caught and ate. With a growl, the old Bronze kept pace easily.

[Wren]

Dirrisk’s mind was a whirl of excitement and joy; here he was running across warm sand with the sound of waves crashing filling his headknobs, chasing a beautiful and glorious queen. Zalmask was, quite simply, wonderful. She was younger than him, young and strong and agile, and he knew her well. They were part of the same ‘pack’ as it were, not like these horrible bronzes that had all appeared out of nowhere. And look! She was slowing down in front of him! Obviously she’d been Impressed by his speed and skill. He put on an eager burst of speed, but then his eyes widened in alarm; she wasn’t just slowing down, she was stopping, and she was kicking her hind feet out to strike him. He dug his heels into the sand desperately, but the soft surface could do little to slow his momentum. He turned his head to the side, closing his eyes, and yelped as the inevitable pain lanced across the left of his face. He stumbled and sprawled backwards, only narrowly avoiding being trampled by the bronzes that leapt over him.

Leaning against the wall in his room, Dirigion was sharply pulled out of the pleasant fantasy land he always drifted into when Dirrisk chased. Cursing, he rubbed his own face in response to the wher’s pain. It took him a moment to figure out what had happened, and when he had he scowled angrily: Stupid gold whers and their cruel vanity. With a spiteful smirk, he hoped that Zalmask’s stunt would at least have slowed her to the extent where she would fall prey to one of the chasing bronzes before she wished to; she deserved it after wounding his Dirrisk.

But Dirrisk it seemed, despite the horrible pain now throbbing around his jaw, was not severely wounded. Zalmask’s claws had bit into his skin, yes, but had not quite cut the tough old hide, and the fall had not harmed him. Dirrisk was not a smart wher, and the mix of alcohol and run-lust was not doing much to improve that. Furthermore he was not one of those meek and obedient blues, at least not with anyone other than Dirigion, and so, all told, Zalmask’s attack did more to enrage him than discourage him. The gold and her chasers were now quite a way away, running on the harder, packed sand closer to the water’s edge. Too far really, for him to have been a competitor even if he was a good-sized bronze. He probably looked a bit pathetic, running after the other whers with no hope at all of even getting close. Even so, if there were points for perseverance, he would certainly get them.

[Spiffy]

The bronze pelted along the sands at a steady lope, behind the shining glory of the queen. The blue had not taken the hint, he was still chasing. The insult... but the bronze did not warn the blue any more, he must save himself for the run. The blue would not last long anyway.

He saw when Zalmask looked back to her suitors. Hoping to catch her eye, the young bronze lengthened his stride even more for a few steps. But then he noticed the red flash in her eyes. She was looking at the blue. He knew it! He knew she'd be angry, he'd insulted her! If this had been anything but a run he'd've crowed in delight. But this was a queen he was dealing with, and he was smart enough to know that his priority right now was staying out of her angry way. As she put the breaks on he swerved to the side, dodging out of the blue's way as he skidded to a halt also on the sand. But not soon enough to avoid Zalmask's almighty kick.

The where grinned in satisfaction, before knucklig back down to the chase. Zalmask was still ahead of him, and he did his best to catch up as she regarded her chasers, trying to prove to her that he was worthy, no, deserving of her beauty this night. He would not be beaten easily. He swerved to the side again as Zalmask changed direction, following her onto the denser wet sand. Oh, this was better, he noted, finding that running on this sand was much easier than running on the soft had been. That must have been why a couple of the other bronzes had been running further out. But now they were all on the same stretch of sand, all running in the same direction and after the same queen, and the competition had become that bit more intense. He was already running as best he could, knowing that he could keep up his pace for ages yet, hoping that it would be enough for Zalmask to finally choose him. It was hard, hot work, an yet he knew that he had as good a chance as any, no, better.

[Lesa]

Admittedly, Bujare didn't have that good a handle on the emotions coursing through her, barely nodding to Z's words, instead obsessed with the timbre of his voice. This was not Busk's first time Chasing, it simply was the first time he was Chasing a gold. He had Chased a few greens in his time, but all those greens had been wild, leaving Bujare unfulfilled and alone when he won. The chance to do something with the lust filling her veins was satisfying in and of itself. And oh, if her Busk won, it would be all the sweeter...

Busk bent his head for a burst of speed, heeding the advice to be wary of the glorious Mama, clambering up to be near beside her, still out of reach should she turn with claws or teeth. He knocked at several of the older bronzes as he went, shoving them to the side. Begone! Return to your old and useless queen, leave Mama for the one who knew her best! They all knew nothing of her, nothing, merely stalking her as a prize, something to claim and be with for the short amount of time as the end of the Run.

He would be with her now and forever, for as long as she wished him to be. He was young, yes, but he was strong, and could last longer than these oldsters. He had run as far and fast as Mama had them going now time and time again, keeping pace with her as they patrolled, assuring that the Bad were kept in where they belonged. He would be with Mama, if she let him, if she wanted him. He would prove to her yet that he was worthy. He was, he unquestionably was! The bronze winced for Dirrisk's sake, the blue's ichor staining the sand, pushing on past the blue, keeping pace beside Mama. He could stay beside her forever, he had no need to fall back, to continue in the pack.

He would show her all he could do, all she hadn't seen before in him, she would see now. Wings flared to catch the air, lifting him over a wave and driving his next steps forward all the faster, claws raking in the hardpacked sand, willlfully flinging it behind him to foul the other pursuers. They would not have her, not if he had anything to say about it, she was his. She was his partner in all but this, it would mean all for him to have her here too.

[S'yal]

(Earlier then I wanted it to end, but I need to stick to the planned schedule SO HERE WE GO)

Zalmask did not want the run to end yet. She wanted to run on forever, she knew she had the strength to. But oh! The sand sucked at her limbs and impeded her progress, tripping her multiple times. She had narrowed her chasers down to two and two alone, both having been chosen for specific traits that the Gold would reveal to no one. Her running began to slow until she was just jogging, and she dropped by the side of one Bronze in particular. The arrogant wild male, who presumed so much? Why was she near him?

She turned her muzzle to him affectionately, touching his neck in a gentle gesture that belied her savage nature as a Wher. She crooned something similar to affection to him, but suddenly her expression went from loving to sweet. Fury took her over and she lashed out at him, snapping at cheek to leave a scar on his face before she put on speed that carried her well past him. He had presumed too much. He dared to chase a senior Queen when he hadn't even caught a young Queen before? She could smell his inexperience on him, and she scorned him. His presence here insulted her. Had he been a more experienced male, he would have been the winner tonight. But he had thought himself good enough for Zalmask without the experience to back it up, and he'd paid the price.

The other wild male bored her terribly. Not the old one who smelled of fish, the quiet one. He didn't speak, he had nothing to make him stand out from the crowd of chasers that had passed through her life in the turns. He was just... boring. An extra in the movie, one that didn't even get to talk in the background. She would never let such a male win her. Perhaps her scorn of him, her complete ignoring of his presence would teach him that maybe next time... he needed to make himself stand out.

That left Fish and Busk. This would be a hard choice. Busk lacked experience, but he was her friend. She knew him well, he was her companion and he was large enough to sire a healthy clutch. But what did his young age say about him? He had a handler to help him survive, he didn't face the same harsh reality as a wild Wher did. No, she did not reject him painfully. She offered him a sad croon, a wordless message that said 'I like you, but you're just too young'. Next time, he would have a much better chance of winning the Golden queen. But now? She could not trust him to produce a healthy clutch. He had not proven his reproductive prowess. If she chose him on friendship alone, she could end up with a clutch of duds.

That left Fish. His old age appealed to her, strangely enough. He was wild, but he was so old! How had one lived to such a ripe old age when they ran wild, with no handler or pack to protect them? It mystified her. He was surely a crafty male to survive to long, or at the least one with superior survival skills. She wanted her children to be survivors. So she began to slow again, until she was at his side. Like with the arrogant male, her head turned to him... but there was no cruel teeth waiting the old male. She licked his cheek, crooning an invitation to him. He would do well. He was big, he was strong, and he was a survivor. He'd give her an acceptable clutch.

Z groaned, before turning lust crazed eyes on Bujare. His eyes were dark as he grit his teeth, trying to suppress the urge to just grab her and kiss her. He instead smiled, holding out a hand to the woman, a smile on his face. "Bujare?" He asked, and his voice was low and it sounded needy to even Z. He knew that she was suffering from lust as well, even if her Wher had lost. And he was completely willing to help her with that.