Sythyry (sythyry) wrote,
Sythyry
sythyry

Hove’s Finest Hour (Mating Flight 98/240)

Hove’s Finest Hour

Our side flew off to the east (the direction that the suns come from), and Arilash’s side off to the west. “We’re outnumbered,” said Ythac. “Let’s even that up, to start with. Let’s start by all attacking Greshthanu. It’ll be a lot easier with him out of the way.”

“Not Arilash?” I said.

“Greshthanu is the more dangerous,” said Csirnis. “And drakes will have fewer compunctions about being fierce to other drakes.”

“I don’t know if I will, actually,” said Ythac. “I’m not used to being … like I am. I mean about drakes and dragonesses. I mean, I am used to it, I’ve always been, but not used to saying it or even really letting myself think it.”

“Love? You are babbling,” said Llredh.

“Oh, yes, I am, aren’t I? What I mean is, I’m happy with either target first.”

Llredh said, “Greshthanu, he shall fail first.”

So much for feminine wiles. We flew to, oh, a mile and a half in the sky, so we’d have room to fall and catch ourselves or each other if we needed. Right over Ze Cheya.

The other side came towards us in a very classic pyramid shape, with Greshthanu conveniently at the point. We flew towards them in a square, with Llredh over Ythac and Csirnis over me. I breathed lightning at them from afar, and Nrararn at us, but everyone was expecting it and avoided it well enough.

We came together fiercely. All four of us did our best to strike at Greshthanu at the same time. So Csirnis and Greshthanu sank their fangs into each others’ necks. Llredh raked at Greshthanu’s left wings, and Ythac at his belly, while Arilash and Osoth harried them as best they could. I kind of landed on Greshthanu’s back, mostly to get out of the air so that Nrararn’s sylphs couldn’t foul my wings. Tultamaan belched ice at Llredh, and probably got in Greshthanu’s way as much as anything, or even Arilash’s.

My drakes did various battleish things that I mostly didn’t see and haven’t asked about. My head was sort of trapped under Greshthanu’s right wings, but pointed at him. I breathed a tight drillsome jet of fire into Greshthanu’s ribs, and then a tight needle of ice. Greshthanu growled, and set his the Small Wall very specifically against lightning coming at his side. So I thumped on his defensive spells with my vô, which is usually not worth doing but seemed to make sense here, and left them full of holes.

Then the whole sky howled with danger, terrible danger, dragon-breaking danger.

Originally published at Mating Flight. You can comment here or there.

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