(If someone has a dragon large enough, someone can volunteer their dragon to be the one to transport the wher(s) to the Weyr and then to the mountains when the thread starts moving. Also, not a very god opening, I wasn't sure how to do it, considering I doubt R'em would have actually had the thought process to seek help in searching, so I just wrote it that they had planned it already so he can be surprised when they show up.)

It was the day after Ayrath’s Flight. Bronze Kaurath had won, pronouncing Ne'ro as the new Weyrleader of Atricis Weyr. Both were quite young, so there was some doubt in their leadership abilities, but that. However, many were excited. At last, after having lost another Weyrwoman to tragedy, another was chosen! She may have been young, but people had confidence in her, they had to, for what other choice did they have? Besides, Kharua had taken over a lot of Myrna’s duties when the ex-Weyrwoman had fallen ill. She knew what she needed to do and what was expected of her.

However, none of this was on a certain man’s mind. While the keening of dragons had rattled the Weyr the day before, the sadness had been quickly forgotten in the heat of Ayrath’s Flight and excitement for a complete change in Leadership of the Weyr. Yesterday had not been a time for mourning, so the tragedy had gone almost unnoticed at first. That is, until the sun rose the next day and R’em stepped out onto the Weyrbowl, hair and whole appearance looking disheveled, the biggest aspect that showed there was something horribly wrong with the crafter. That and the lack of his dragonrider’s knots, only wearing his craft knots as he looked out onto the lightening Weyrbowl, eyes half lidded and R’em looking only more pitiful as the sky lightened.

After a moment, the man turned back into the crafter’s rooms, where he had slept that night. He had been unable to bring himself to return to his weyr that night, knowing he wouldn’t see Veseath there and the pain of it would scratch into his heart even more. However, in the room he had slept in, it appeared he had a backpack filled with various supplies, and it was heavy when he picked it up. However, despite its weight he slung it onto his shoulders and then slipped back out to the Weyrbowl.

Little known to the man, word had been sent around about Veseath’s death. That the dragon had died in a cavern up north, and hadn’t been able to between. His body was still there somewhere, and R’em was going to go find him. He wanted to find his dragon, he was still there, his body cold, and he needed to go find him. When he got there, he didn’t know what he was going to do though, as he was unaware that anyone knew of Veseath’s death, and that he wasn’t the only one planning to go and find Veseath.

It was the bronze’s adamant insisting that finally drove Ne’ro to action. Tired as he was, and content as well, he would have loved to spend the rest of the morning sleeping with Kharua in his arms. As it so happened, the bronze was up early, prodding Ne’ro with his mind until the new weyrleader got up, getting dressed and went to physically bother the dragon in question. Kaurath insisted on helping find his fallen brother. In fact, he went as far as to say it would be in the best interest of the new weyrleader if he would assist in finding the brown dragon. The first of his weyrleader duties, so to speak.

He was dressed quick, going back to his weyr to nab his flying leathers. With the winter season in full swing, he’d have to keep warm on dragonback, especially if they went between. He briefly wondered if Kaurath was in shape, after such a grilling Flight. Kaurath snorted. Of course he was. After all, he was a large bronze, and could take a few scratches. Clad in his riding clothes, Ne’ro headed for where the dragonless R’em was.

Weyrbowl. I’ll meet you there.

The rider nodded, going to said location. He found R’em there, a large pack hanging off his shoulders. “R’em,” he called, stepping close to the former rider. “You dimglow, going without asking for anyone else to accompany you. You’re going to need help, whether you like it or not.” The state of the former rider didn’t deter Ne’ro’s harsh comments, though R’em did look completely miserable and out of it. Ne’ro glanced away as Kaurath landed in the weyrbowl, plodding over to be closer to his rider. “Kaurath and I will be joining you. He insisted. You’re lucky to get me to go along with this.”

Behind him, the bronze grumbled, cutting Ne’ro off before he could say something harsh. Calm down. Rudeness does not befit a weyrleader. He’s just lost his dragon, his companion for life. Don’t make it harder for him. Kaurath gave Ne’ro a stern look before settling on his haunches, satisfied that his rider wasn’t going to say much else in way of R’em’s lost dragon.

“We’re here now. Kaurath can carry a wher, which we’ll need to find Veseath. Also, he’s strong enough to carry other passengers as well, if need be.” Ne’ro finished, keeping his face set in that disapproving glare.

The arrival of Ne'ro had gone almsot unnoticed, and would have if he hadn't outright spoken to him, using his shortened, dragonrider name... Even though... He stopped that thought short as he looked to Ne'ro when the young man called out to him. He looked and heard the man almost yell and scold him for trying to leave on his own to search for his fallen dragon. However, when there was a time R'em would have reacted to such harsh and rude words, he kind of just stared at him.

"We'll find him...? Veseath?" Was all he could muster. Those were the only thoughts he had, which was a good thing that there was someone else here who was thinking straight, as R'em wouldn't be. The fact they would need a wher, or even asking for anyone else's help hadn't occured to him. He didn't even know of Ne'ro's new position in the Weyr yet, nor that there may be others who would be arriving to help with this search.

((Short post, just wanting to keep it moving a bit so my muse for this doesn't stagnate and die.))

Feray gave a small sigh as she gently stroked Renceth's back. She had heard about Veseath, the poor thing, and she felt obligated to go and help find him. She felt this way because her own dragon, Renceth, had wanted to join the flight, but she pleaded with him not to try and get a Queen on his first flight. She was so relieved when he backed down without even trying. It could have easily been him that was killed, and she shuddered to think of that.

Renceth listened to his riders thoughts, feeling his own sadness. There was always cause for mourning when a fellow dragon died, especially like this, having only panic and fear before death. At least, he assumed that's what the other had felt when he crashed. And maybe the lust from the flight, though he doubted it.

The pair landed near the Weyrleader and Feray slid off of the Pewter's back, taking a second before walking over to the other.

Remember Fera, be nice to him, and if he's rude don't do anything. Renceth muttered, worried about the girl's anger. Feray just nodded.

I'll be good, don't worry. She said back, giving a mental smile.

"Feray of Pewter Renceth. I'm here to help find Veseath. I'm sorry for your lose, though I know no words could ever show how I feel for you." She gently reached over and patted the man's shoulder, then unsure of touching him anymore, withdrew her arm.

The news of the fallen dragon had, as expected, reached even Isil Tunnelhold. The wherhandlers did not overmuch concern themselves with Weyr business, other than supply trains and guarding, but now, requests were being made for someone to bring a wher down to assist in the removal of the dragon’s body. In fact, the news had made it there very quickly- they did not have a queen flight and the naming of a new leader to distract them from the grief filtered to them by the dragons. Besides, they were night folk by nature. There was no one to rouse, really.

Lidia heard the news the same way the rest of the Tunnelhold did- through the grapevine, through the gossip of the other candidates. And something about it tugged on her heartstrings- she naturally felt drawn to take care of people, and she’d never lost someone close to her before, but she had Sly, and even that small bond with the little firelizard gave her some idea of what losing a dragon would feel like (or so she thought, anyway). So her sympathies were all with the brownrider- what a terrible thing, to lose your dragon. If she was nearer, she probably would have forcibly fed him soup and baked goods, things like that (for it never really occurred to her that there were things you couldn’t fix with food).

In fact, the thought stuck with her so much, that before dawn she hunted down one of the bronze handlers, a young boy- younger than her!- named Torik. He was moody, but that didn’t intimidate her, and she would have tried to talk someone else into it, but somehow he seemed to suit- and his wher was large enough, she figured. She couldn’t find any other handler on short notice, either.

“No.”

“Please, Torik?” she begged, still slightly confused that she was having to beg a child for this. “He needs the help! Imagine the poor man, all alone in the world now….”

“No.” Torik said again, and glared at the annoying woman with his one good eye. “Let the dragonriders handle their own business, it’s not to do with me.” He got up from his bench, irritatedly, and Torsk, ever-near, began rumbling at Lidia, who shrank back a bit.

Desperately, Lidia played her last card, in hopes that this boy, no matter how jaded he seemed, would share the trait most children did- a sweet tooth. “I don’t have much to offer, Torik, but please, take me down there and help him out, and I’ll…. I’ll bake bubbly pies for you or something, or buy you sweets next Gather day.” She held out her hands in supplication. If this didn’t work, she didn’t know what would.

Torik considered. He did like pastries, and rarely got them, so far from his mother. Baking fruit-studded pastries was one of the few things she could do, even with her blindness.

“….All right.” he grumped, cheeks reddened a bit. “Make it marshberry bread, and I’ll do it.”

Lidia breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” she gasped, and would have hugged him had not Torsk been there, glowering at her. “Just let me go get my things.”


They headed off before dawn broke, the better for Torsk’s eyes- as it was, they’d have to shade them as time went on. Torik walked most of the way, with Torsk reluctantly allowing Lidia and her bag onto his back- only after Torik insisted. She’d worried that it would be hard to figure out where to go, but they entered the Weyrbowl to see a small grouping of people- three people, two dragons, and the look on the face of the second man told her all she needed to know.

“Over there.” she said to Torik, so he could guide Torsk, whose eyes were wholly covered now. As they approached the others, she waved one hand, pulling it out from her warm cloak to get attention. “Hello!” she called, in a voice that was probably too cheery for the occasion. “We’re from Isil,” she said rather unnecessarily. “I’m Lidia and this is Torik and Torsk…. We’re here to help.”

Devean had felt the loss of a dragon through his shared link with Devsk. It wasn't as strong as dragonriders and other people right in the Weyr would feel, and of course it was a fraction of what Veseath's rider was going through, but it was still painful. Just that small hint was enough to bring back a powerful memory of losing Flurith. It was like he was cursed to relive the moment over and over. Holding the young, weakened Brown in his arms, then letting him go for his first and last flight between. Of course, he had prior warning of Flurith's death. The Healers told him that the sickly dragon would not live for long, so he had time to say goodbye. Maybe that was why he was able to continue living. He didn't know what R'em was going to do, but Devean wouldn't blame the man if he decided to join his dragon in death.

At least Devean had Devsk now. He spent the rest of the night curled up beside his wher, taking what comfort he could from their bond. Once he had learned to accept Devsk, the wher had been a great help to him, and he knew he was recovering more than before. He could never return to the person he was before Flurith, but every day he felt more...normal.

As light began to break, he and Devsk quietly left the Tunnelhold and headed for the Weyr. Devsk sensed that something serious was happening, and he didn't say anything to his handler, just sending reassuring feelings to Devean. They kept their distance behind the Bronzehandler and his companion.

When they reached the Weyr, they joined the small group of people around the man who had lost his dragon. "I am Devean, and this is Devsk. I want to help," he said briskly, avoiding the dragonless man's gaze. He truly wanted to help, but he knew that looking at the pain in the other man's eyes would be too much for him. "Saying goodbye is important." He swallowed past the lump in his throat. Oh Shards, no. He wasn't going to start crying in front of those people. Especially not when he wasn't even the one who had just lost his dragon. Devsk leaned against him gently, silently giving comfort, and Devean relaxed again. He had to get through this, not just for the other rider's sake, but for some sense of closure for himself as well.

If one had to be frank, the sudden rising of Ayrath was nothing short of a surprise for the entire Weyr. Finally, after some time with a decided lack of true Leadership, another mating flight signaled the start of a new time for Atricis, led by the young goldrider, Kharua, rather than the familiar presence of Myrna. One bronze in the Weyr had refused to answer the golden one's call, out of sheer respect for his still grieving rider and his own personal desire to stay near the man, rather than go chasing after some younger beast. So it was that Alkeioth knew of the brown's passing right away, and had informed his rider, who had used the time wisely, deciding to take his son, his only child, away from the Weyr in order to spend a little more time with him. Tyrnas reminded T'bas so much of his mother, and this one small child was the only link he still had with her.

T'bas? Alkeioth asked, his voice gentle and filled with sadness over the events of the past few months. Shyamath gone, her rider lost delivering the child that served more as his rider's anchor to the world of the living than even himself, and now a brown just out of weyrlinghood gone. Things were not boding well for the Weyr the pair had called home for so long now, and the bronze wondered what he could do to make it up to him. Naturally, the condition T'bas had fallen into had cost them their position as Wingleader, but neither of them truly minded now. Nothing really mattered now insofar as T'bas was concerned, and that sent the bronze spiralling into a milder form of the man's own depression. A group is gathering in the Weyrbowl. The boy wishes to look for his brown's body. We should help as best we can.

A sigh escaped T'bas as he carefully rose from his couch, the effects of grief showing even now on his face. The once youthful look out of his hazel eyes was now gone, replaced by a sadness that apparently drug others into the depths of his depression. Not many of his fellow wingriders enjoyed being around him since Myrna had passed on, and he honestly didn't blame them in the slightest. Not that he cared, in either case; if they didn't want to see what happened when reality struck, then they were more than welcome to stay in their land of happiness and make-believe. Either case, there was another grieving rider in their midst, lost and suddenly finding no path to follow. As much as facing some of the other riders again worried him, he wouldn't leave the brownrider as he was. So, he strode out to meet his dragon, grateful that he had remembered to bathe and change into decent clothing, and mounted, letting the large bronze know that he was ready to go.

Alkeioth said nothing, simply leaped from the ledge and spread his wings wide, the greenish hide catching the air and allowing him to settle into a lazy glide towards the Weyrbowl. Perhaps getting out of the Weyr and doing something for another would help T'bas' mood, the bronze mused as he circled the area that others were gathering in. The new Weyrleader, Ne'ro, was there with his pale dragon, Kaurath. Their presence was surprising to him, since he figured that Ne'ro would much rather spend the morning in his Weyrwoman's bed. He crooned respectfully to the larger bronze, as well as to the pewter that was waiting there as well before landing, dipping his body lower so T'bas would have an easier time dismounting. He offered the same courteous croon to the bronze and brown whers that were there as well, showing them that even they had the older dragon's respect. Greetings, Kaurath and Renceth, he offered to the dragons before glancing to the whers. And if I could be so obliged with your names as well?

T'bas, after sliding off of his dragon's shoulder, offered the other riders and the wherhandlers only the briefest of nods before stepping up to R'em, looking the young man over with a critical gaze. He had the usual grief-stricken look of a rider who was no longer a rider. Half a man, bereft of the very thing that had completed him. T'bas couldn't help but feel for the younger man, and he quickly wrapped a comforting arm around R'em's shoulders before pulling away, not wishing to make things uncomfortable for him. "We'll find him, R'em. Don't you worry," he told the young man, resting a reassuring hand on his shoulder as hazel eyes looked at R'em with a look of vague understanding. After all, loss wasn't an unknown thing to him, as he had lost someone very dear to him lately.

People began to show up it seemed now. Another dragon glided over and landed, the pewter Renceth as his rider padded over and introduced herself before giving her condolences. R'em gave a sort of half nod, not sure what to say. Thank you? It didn't seem right to say that, so he settled for a nod, his head hurting too much to think through his normal manners and thought processes. He was definitely a beat down and broken man.

It was another girl next, introducing herself then a bronze wher and his handler. Oh, so whers had already been sent over? It seemed so, as another arrived with a brown, not seeming as upbeat as some of the others. He introduced himself, saying some things, and somehow, even through the haze of his pain and grief, he could tell he understood. Saying goodbye would be important.

Finally, the old Weyrleader appeared, T'bas on his bronze Alkeioth. The man who R'em knew had experienced loss before. T'bas had lost a dearly beloved with the passing of Myrna, and while that still wasn't quite the same as losing one's dragon, it was still loss. R'em felt a small twinge of surprise when the man put his arm around him, as if for some sort of support before he let go and reassured.

They would find Veseath... They needed to. R'em needed to...

It was hard for R'em to not find himself falling into a fit of unending sobbing, even after he had fallen asleep that way and even cried through his lonesome night. The pain hit him constantly, but every so often it would hit in large waves, perhaps now because of everyone seeming to know what had happened. Veseath's death hadn't gone by as unnoticed as he had first thought.

The dark haired man kept his composure though, and managed to clear his throat and try to stand up a bit straighter.

"I... I guess we should... get going..." He glanced between all the dragonriders and the wherhandlers and candidate from Isil, stopping on the new Weyrleader for a moment before shifting and clearing his throat. "... ... Maybe the whers could be carried by the two larger dragons..." He pointed to Alkeioth and Kaurath, fighting not to see Veseath in either of them. "And the others... We... We can be carried by Renceth..." It was hard to say that. To cement verbally that he wasn't a rider anymore. He had no dragon, and he would have to be transported by another.

"The mountains to the north... Right...? Will Kaurath know where, so we can go between? He'll... Veseath... He'll be up there?" His last statement sounded like more of a question than a statement, like he was unsure. And he was. R'em was unsure about everything right now.

Even Ne’ro’s blunt manner of speaking didn’t phase the dragonless man. That much Ne’ro noticed when R’em failed to react to his words. Either that, or he was deaf. The bronzerider had to resist rolling his eyes. “Yes, R’em, we’ll find Veseath.” He couldn’t continue, even if he wanted to, as more people began to arrive, willing to help the forlorn R’em. Ne’ro recognized a few, but the names of the whers and their handlers escaped him. Not surprising, since he didn’t associate himself with whers at all. He supposed that would have to change with his new position as weyrleader, wouldn’t it?

Feray of Pewter Renceth arrived, and Kaurath trumpeted a low greeting to the smaller dragon. Ne’ro raised a curt hand in recognition. With the handlers coming with their blind-folded whers, Ne’ro also gave them recognition with a short nod. Last to arrive was T’bas with his bronze, Alkeioth. The former weyrleader might as well have lost his dragon too, based on the way he looked. Ne’ro’s eyebrow shot up in a critical gaze, but he said nothing, respect still holding for the man that occupied the position he was now in. Seeing that no one else was showing up at this moment, Ne’ro stepped forward.

He listened as R’em explained his thoughts, occasionally nodding with his words. “R’em seems to have a good plan,” he took over when the man faltered. “Kaurath can carry a wher, and he’s large enough to carry people besides me.” The bronze dipped his head in acknowledgement. “And he knows where the mountains are. He’ll be able to take us between to the general area. Once we get inside, we can let the whers search for Veseath. Sound good?”

Kaurath’s eyes swirled a sad, dull purple shade as he recalled his lost brother. He watched R’em carefully, before turning to the elder bronze. Alkeioth, hello. Nice to see you here, he greeted.

“We should get going now, while the day is still early, so we have more time to look,” Ne’ro urged, willing himself not to get impatient, should stubborn whers decide a dragon’s claws were unsafe for traveling in. He patted Kaurath’s foreleg, then nimbly climbed up his large bronze, settling himself on Kaurath’s back as he waited for everyone to get ready. Kaurath held the coordinates for yesterday’s dangerous cavern in his mind, even as he stood, opening his claws and patiently waiting for whichever wher he was going to carry.

“Torik, that’s your name, right? Torik of Torsk? Why don’t you two come with Kaurath and I? Kaurath can carry your wher,” Ne’ro called, motioning for the handler to join him.

Feray slightly ignored Renceth greeting the other dragons as she listened, nodding slowly. Yes, they could carry a few extra people. The girl watched as more and more people began to arrive, slightly uncomfortable. She didn't know most of the strange people. But they had to be here for the man, they had too. She didn't know what she would feel if Renceth died. And she didn't want to think about it either, the thought was just. . . The girl shuddered a bit at this as she walked back to Renceth, glad to have him there with her.

Fera. . . come on now. Go stand with the other people. It might be a good idea to try and comfort him a bit more. Renceth said, making the girl sigh slightly. He was right, though, she had to admit. Though she really wasn't sure how to comfort someone who had lost their lifemate. She wasn't good at comforting. She was good at getting revenge for people, but not at comfort. Either way she walked the few steps back over to the man, standing there awkwardly.

She still couldn't say she regretted coming, even if she did feel awkward. After all, it wasn't about her. It was about R'em.

Lidia bit a knuckle thoughtfully. If she had only known that Devean and Devsk would have been coming as well, she wouldn’t have bothered asking Torik, and would have just asked Devean. The brown wher was the size of the bronze, anyway. The woman pouted slightly- it would have meant a less awkward trip, as far as she was concerned, though she didn’t know- and never would have guessed- at Devean’s motivation for coming. Ah, well. Two whers must be better than one, after all, especially two of the same size and shape, if not color.

Another bronze pair appeared, and Torik retreated deeper into himself while Lidia waved to the new arrival. He, too, looked sad, and Lidia couldn’t help but wonder if everyone was sorrow-touched at Atricis. Why did this bronzerider look so sad? Though perhaps it was not limited to the dragonriders- now she looked at Devean, he looked somber too, and not just because this was a sad occasion. It was a mystery to Lidia, who’d never really dealt with tragedy for herself before.

Torik hmmphed at the dragonriders and turned away, waving a curt greeting to Devean, however. He still could not and did not respect the dragonriders, bronzeriders especially, even though Torsk was pleased to have one of the big creatures acknowledge him. Torsk is Torsk. he answered Alkeioth, a shade belligerently, but proud too. Torik just nodded, and turned away, stroking his beast’s head. Lidia frowned at him disapprovingly.

"Can you bear to be on another dragon’s back?” Lidia asked R’em curiously, not really realizing just how tactless of a question this would be. When she did realize her mistake, her dark face turned even darker with a blush. “Oh… oh Faranth I’m sorry.” she exclaimed, and then, impulsively, she shoved her bag into Torik’s arms and jumped off Torsk’s back, running over to R’em and wrapping her arms around him. She was a few inches shorter than he was, but he was so skinny, especially in comparison to her soft, pillowy pudginess. “We’ll find him,” she reassured him in a soothing tone. “We’re all here to help you.” Oh, Faranth, if she was allowed (and if he didn’t choose to follow his dragon, though that wasn’t something she considered at the moment), she’d stay with this man for a while, and… and… and feed him up, at least. The Tunnelhold could do without her for the moment- there weren’t even eggs awaiting her. Yet.

“Hnn.” Torik answered Ne’ro, which was about as much of an answer he was going to get out of the grouchy boy. But he tossed Lidia’s bag back at her feet- “Watch it!” she yelped- and guided his bronze over to the (much larger) similarly colored dragon. He was not really sure how to get on the dragon’s back, but sharded if he was going to ask for help. After a few moments, he used an obliging Torsk as a step up, from where he clambered up behind the dragonrider and settled himself. Torsk, with a grumbly, growly sort of snuffling sound, stepped into the circle of Kaurath’s claws, even less comfortable with this arrangement than his handler but not willing to protest much.

Torsk not like Torsk’s riding on dragon. the wher huffed, eyeing the big dragon balefully. He was jealous, truth be told.

I don’t like it any more than you, buddy. Torik answered, folding his arms across his chest. But we’ll just deal with it for now.

Lidia stepped away from her mothering of R’em long enough to raise one small hand in the air. “Am I to go with you, sir, or is Torik and Torsk enough?” she directed to Ne’ro. She could sit on any dragon’s back, really, but she wanted to know.

((Okies, since I'm leaving for a trip soon and want to get as close to finishing this as I can before I leave, I'm jumping the thread ahead. I never really intended this to be a long thread, so I'm jumping ahead quite a bit, especially since it seems there's not a lot that most people can do. I will try my best not to accidentally take control of anyone's chcaracters, if I do I'm sorry for not asking first.))

Quickly, the group was situated, with Kaurath carrying Torsk, Alkeioth carrying Devsk and R'em riding on Renceth with Feray and Lidia on Kaurath with Ne'ro and Torik, since Kaurath was the largest dragon here and could handler multiple passengers easier than Renceth might. Once everyone was situated, R'em feeling awkward on the back of another dragon, the group took to the air with Kaurath leading them, showing all the dragons the mental image of where they would be going, and the dragons sending it to their riders. And then, once high enough above the Weyr, the group blinked between.

Miles north of Atricis Weyr, to the large mountains in the north, the group blinked out of between one by one, all with their passengers and whers in tact. For a moment, the group glided around to make sure everyone was there and then the flew on over the mountains a bit, with Kaurath leading them due to his and Ne'ro's shared memory of the area. Soon, Kaurath found the area he remembered, and descended into the mountains, gliding along until they came across a cavern that may have looked a bit cramped for the larger dragons like the bronzes, but overall was enormous. Which would make sense, seeing as how the large Queen Ayrath had taken them through here.

The dragons, one by one, carefully flew in, starting with the larger ones, and landed inside the cavern, it being the only safe landing area. The whers were deposited onto the cavern floor as were the riders and passengers while the wherhandlers took their whers a little further away from the light of the opening of the cavern before unblindfolding their whers. The dragons had brought them here and found the cavern, now it was the whers turn to find the lost dragon Veseath.

R'em walked in a bit, looking into what appeared to be never ending darkness that lead to winding maze-like caverns. He couldn't help but wonder, even in his broken state, how a series of caverns so large existed without caving in. And to think it was big enough for the largest dragons to fly through, even if they all had emerged at least bruised and beaten.

"Veseath..." R'em spoke into the cavern. His fallen dragon was in here, somewhere. And they were going to find him. Already they had begun searching, the whers and their handlers beginning to take the lead of the group. Even as it grew dark enough that most of the people couldn't see very well, the whers led on, their handlers most likely used to darkness as they went down the main tunnel, and turned down another. Hopefully the whers would be able to find the fallen dragon somehow.

They led them, the dragonriders following the wherhandlers still as one of the two whers picked up a scent of the Weyr and dragon and lead them down that way. As they got further down the tunnel, the scent still smelled like the Weyr and dragons, however it grew more old and stale smelling as they got closer. Then at last, the whers stopped, snuffled a bit and bobbed their heads. R'em didn't need anymore light in the dim tunnel to know where they were.

The dragonless man let out a cry, tears filling his eyes as he immediately ran over to the body of the brown dragon. It was indeed Veseath at the end of this tunnel. His body didn't appear to have many bruises, however there were large stones and dirt on the dragon's wings and scattered over his body. R'em, however, didn't care, climbing over the rocks, and pushing some aside until he climbed up to Veseath's head and uncovered it from a few stones.

If one were to hold a light up to the cavern wall in front of Veseath's body, they would see almost like a crack in the stone, obviously where the dragon had smashed into the wall. Veseath's head also had a crack in it, with dried ichor caked on his forehead and around his colorless eyes and muzzle.

R'em, let out another cry, this one more of a whimper as he pulled the brown's head into his lap and leaned over it, resting his cheek on the dragon's head. Then, without worrying about anyone else there, the man cried. Not bothering to restrain his painful sobs. Yes, his bond with his dragon was already broken. But the pain was still fresh, and it was made even worse upon seeing his dragon's body, so lonely in the dark and, to his mind, mangled. Most dragonriders who lost their dragons never saw their dragon's body, R'em was one of the few, and it was hard to tell if this was better or worse for someone who had just lost half of themselves.

((EDIT: I added more so it was further along. More to a point in which I felt people could do some things. Either just sit and watch R'em, or try to move the search along by beginning to get ready to take Veseath out of the caverns, either by dragons, if any of them would follow, or by using the whers to try to carry him. Really it's whatever you guys think to do right here. ^.^ If no one feels that they can really do anything, I'll jump it further.))

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((EDIT2: It doesn't seem like there's much interest in this thread left from everyone. Since it's been running so long ad some closure for the character R'em needs to come forth at last, I'm editing in the end of this. Some of the rolls that any of the characters may play are described vaguely, so if someone wants their character to be the one to do this or that, it's open for you to choose so.))

After a while, someone stepped forward, placing a hand on R’em’s shoulder. However, the man couldn’t tell if the person said anything or who they were. His mind was far too clouded with the overwhelming pain and the thoughts of Veseath. His poor lifeless dragon in his lap was most of his thoughts. However, after this, those who were present shifted around, moving stones off of Veseath and coaxing R’em away. Somehow, the dragonless man was able to step from his dragon so they could hoist the brown’s body onto the beasts that would carry his body out of the tunnels.

Once the brown was on and being carried, R’em found himself next to them, trying his best to hold up the brown’s head to keep it from dragging on the ground or hitting anything. As he did this, he cried more, not as loud as before, but he still cried as he followed along the group that would lead them out of these vast and dangerous caverns. He didn’t leave the brown or let go, even as the group paused to blindfold the whers when they were getting too close to the light outside. The only time he at all winced away was when they were at the very edge of the cavern’s entrance, and the brown’s body had been let down onto the ground once more.

The others began to chat, but R’em still didn’t make any sense of it. He tried to listen, but for some reason their words made no sense. He couldn’t figure out what they were saying, what they were talking about. Yes, he knew how to speak, he knew their words, but it didn’t make sense. It was a feeling that was hard to be described, but from a man who had lost part of his soul, it was understandable.

Then, they came forward again, and began to hoist Veseath onto one of the larger dragons. It was time, R’em knew it, and he ran forward, locking his arms around Veseath’s muzzle, not wishing to let go. No, he couldn’t. He didn’t want to say goodbye, the fact that this was only his dragon’s empty and lifeless body didn’t matter, nor did it really occur to him in the first place. He just… He didn’t want to say goodbye to the only creature that understood him and stood by him despite all of his numerous faults.

Then, again, R’em was coaxed away and told they were taking Veseath’s body between so he may at last rest peacefully like he deserved. The dragon Veseath had been placed on began to work its way into the air, burdened by the brown’s dead weight but still managing to get into the air carefully enough to not get hurt or drop the brown on the ground. The dragon lifted up into the air, and then someone else stepped forward, and said the first words R’em truly understood.

”Do you want to go with him?” Words that this broken man truly understood the meaning of. So few words yet they shook him and he thought about it. Did he? Did he want to continue his life alone? Did he even want to leave Veseath now? The answer to those questions were no… No… He didn’t… He had no reason left to live this life, he had no way to live his life. He had lost everything and he would never be able to get it back, and he would never want to find a replacement. A replacement would never fill this emptiness, this sorrow and pain…

“Take me,” he said, tears welling in his eyes again, as if the man hadn’t wept enough already. “I don’t want to leave him. I don’t want to live without him. I want to be with him.” He sobbed, not looking like the confident man he had once been.

“Take me between with Veseath. Please, let me follow him and rest with him there.” R’em couldn’t stop, he cried still and continued pleading, afraid he would be denied what he wished for. If that was the case, he would find another way, but this here… this was the best way and he wanted to take it.

It seemed everyone present understood, and one of the dragons were brought forward. R’em was helped up onto the dragon with his rider, and soon, they were in the air, flying after the dragon carrying Veseath, moving a little bit faster due to fewer burdens. Soon, before the other could blink between, they had caught up, and R’em stared at Veseath longingly. He would be with his dragon forever, and rest with him forever.

It seemed the riders knew what was going on, and together, they winked between and then returned moments later over the area they were, both dragons now missing the dead dragon and his broken rider.