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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction that combine worlds created by the original content owner with names, places, characters, events, and incidents that are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, organizations, companies, events or locales are entirely coincidental.
Authors are responsible for properly crediting Original Content creator for their creative works.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Dragonriders of Pern series was created by Ann McCaffrey in 1967 and spans 24+ books published by Ballantine Books, Atheneum Books, Bantam Books, and Del Rey Books.  Any recognizable content in this story is from Ann McCaffrey, Todd McCaffrey, Gigi McCaffrey or their representatives or inheritors.  <br> Original content provided by author of this FanFiction story without monetary compensation. <br>
Canon typical violence

Gone Away, Gone Ahead - 18. Helping Out

Prideth is caught.

Herebeth nudged him, both mentally and physically. Ondiath’s rider wonders when you will be returning.

He’d lost track of time, he realised. They hadn’t even got as far as the sleeping chamber, just gone for each other where they’d been standing, amid a couple of bemused dragons. And still the insistent pressure of Prideth’s lust proved that she’d not yet been caught. H’rek leaned against the wall, his eyes shut. D’gar rearranged his clothing and used Rioth’s shoulder to help support himself.

H’rek opened his eyes. ‘That was wild.’

‘That’s gold flights all over.’ H’rek still seemed slightly dazed. Well, this was yet another first time for him, being Holdbred. ‘I have to go.’

‘Where?’

‘The Wing. I’m needed.’

‘I need you, too.’ H’rek reached out and tried to pull him back down. ‘Can’t we stay here a bit longer?’

It was definitely a temptation. ‘Sorry. I really do have to go.’

‘I’ll come with you, then.’

That mightn’t be a bad idea. It wasn’t fair to leave H’rek alone up here. At least in the dining hall there would be people around to distract him. Maybe even some alcohol if he wanted to numb the sensations that way.

From the ledge, he saw that the Bowl was almost empty. Normally at this time of the morning, there would be workers going about their business, dragons getting ready for patrol flights and the like. The mating flight had disrupted all of that. A few dragons were perched up by the Star Stones and along the rim; blues and browns, waiting for their chance as soon as the queen was caught. The sky was empty too; wherever Prideth had led her suitors, it was out of sight of the Weyr. Just not out of mind, so to speak. She was broadcasting over a wide area; most weyrfolk were inherently sensitive and riders had to be or they’d not have Impressed, but a mating queen flying over a Hold could stimulate even the most stolid of people into inappropriate behaviour. There was a good reason Weyrs were far from human habitation.

‘Come on then.’ He climbed up on Herebeth and offered a hand so that H’rek could get up behind him. H’rek wrapped his arms around D’gar’s waist and started to nuzzle his neck.

Hang on, Herebeth said, before dropping down into an easy glide to the ground.

Inside the dining hall, around twenty or so green riders had taken over a table. Some of them were evidently waiting for their dragons to rise, while others seemed to be there to offer diversion and sympathy. J’rud and K’fol were among them. It was small consolation that this, at last, had forced Benden and the other five Weyrs’ riders to mix. J’rud looked miserable, one or two others had the vacant expressions people got when talking to their dragons and several were talking animatedly to cover their nerves. Most of the Wing were still sitting around the same table where they’d eaten breakfast but there were a few vacant spaces.

‘Where is everyone?’ he asked B’lin.

‘Some of them went off with Lower Cavern workers. Couldn’t exactly force them to stay, could I?’

‘Suppose not.’ He checked where H’rek had got to. Ah, there he was, pouring a mug of klah.

‘You took your time.’

‘Sorry. I, er…’

‘Had things to do?’ B’lin smiled. ‘Well, at least someone’s had some fun.’

‘You’ll get your turn later.’

‘If Ondiath manages to catch anyone.’

‘I thought you said he’d flown Greth before.’ That was always a factor; whatever the circumstances.

‘True. Just don’t like to be over confident, that’s all.’ He sighed. ‘This is a sharding long flight. Prideth will be laying a good sized clutch, for sure.’

‘I expect T’garrin’s already taking bets on how many eggs she’ll lay.’ D’gar noticed H’rek strolling over to join the other green riders. They’d look after him.

‘Wonder how F’drun’s doing?’

‘I guess we’ll find out soon enough.’ Badly, he hoped. If Ryth flew Prideth, the man would be insufferable; his confidence boosted by the support of the weyrwoman.

Piroth asks me if the flight is finished yet. I do not think it will be much longer, Herebeth mused. He asks us to send him coordinates as soon as she is caught. Piroth’s rider asks you to make the time of day very specific.

‘What’s up?’ B’lin had noticed him talking to his dragon.

‘It’s R’feem. He wants me to call him back as soon as it’s done.’

‘He won’t have had much time at Fort, will he?’

‘I reckon he’s made plenty of time.’ D’gar had figured out exactly what R’feem was asking for. ‘That’s why he asked me to provide a specific visual.’

‘He knows what Benden Weyr looks like by now, doesn’t he?’ B’lin sounded puzzled.

Did he need it spelling out? Maybe he did. D’gar dropped his voice and leaned closer. ‘I think he’s going to time it. He’s probably spent enough hours at home that he needs to catch up.’

‘That’s a bit risky, isn’t it?’

‘Well, I reckon we’ve all got the idea now. Once you’ve learned a trick like that who wouldn’t be tempted to use it? Anyway, I’ll be just outside.’ He glanced back across the hall. H’rek was chatting with V’chal. That would keep him occupied.

The Bowl was as deserted as before, although a few more dragons had flown up to join their fellows on the rim. D’gar recognised Ondiath, Toth and Jekkoth among them as well as several others with the compact build of dragons who had been hatched in the distant past. He checked the sky, noting the position of the sun, the amount of cloud, the brown watch dragon sitting on his haunches beside the Star Stones. A few green dragons peered out from their weyr ledges, ready to fly. One or two might choose to blood their kills, but given this sort of situation, where they had been waiting so long, most probably wouldn’t bother.

All the dragonlust in the air was giving him a headache. It felt oppressive now, like the pressure of a building thunderstorm. Maybe he should go and grab H’rek again? Maybe they could just duck inside one of the empty weyrs for another quick bit of relief? But R’feem had entrusted him with a job. There’d been plenty of gold flights over the years when duty had meant he’d not been free to indulge. Besides, surely this couldn’t go on much longer?

Then, like a lightning strike, the tension broke. The uncanny silence and stillness of the Weyr changed abruptly to noise and movement; voices, dragons bugling, wing beats in the disturbed air. Somewhere, far above Prideth had allowed herself to be caught.

D’gar checked the sky again, sent the visual to Herebeth to pass on. Counted to three, slowly, before Piroth appeared just above the Bowl. R’feem had timed it perfectly. Piroth descended swiftly, setting down to allow R’feem to slide off. He’d put the bare minimum of safety gear on his dragon, basically just a strap around his neck for him to hang on, which was quickly removed. Piroth launched himself again almost as soon as R’feem stepped away.

Greens were propelling themselves from their weyrs, shrieking as they flew frantically skywards, their suitors already in hot pursuit. Riders streamed out from the dining hall toward the flight weyr. You had to hope someone had had the foresight to throw a few more mattresses inside.

‘Thanks, lad.’ R’feem said quickly, before hurrying off to join the rest.

D’gar took a sip of klah, waiting to see who would emerge from the mouth of Kylara’s weyr, leaning against the rocky wall and affecting a casual slouch, as if he didn’t care in the slightest. The first couple of riders stumbled out. He recognised R’gul and S’lel. Both looked slightly stunned as was often the case with the losers in a mating flight. He guessed they would probably go for the option of getting drunk to compensate for their disappointment and sure enough, both went straight through to the dining hall. There would be skins of wine at the ready and a few Lower Cavern women around who were happy to offer other consolations, if that was what any of the failed riders fancied.

A couple more bronze riders followed slowly, taking pains not to look at or talk to each other. Two of them ducked straight inside the flight cave. Obviously they were hoping their dragons might catch one of the greens on his way back to the Weyr. The youngest rider of the group showed signs of having been in a scrap; holding a bloodied piece of cloth against his head. That wasn’t out of the ordinary either. When passions were roused, tempers were short too. No one was ever taken to task for anything that happened under such conditions.

‘I wondered where you’d got to.’ H’rek joined him outside. ‘What are you waiting for?’

D’gar nodded toward the queen’s weyr. ‘See who hasn’t won.’

‘They kind of deserve each other, don’t you think? Him and Kylara.’

If it was only as simple as that. ‘Maybe.’

‘Still, it would be tough on T’bor. He really loves her, you know.’

‘Be tough on everyone, if he’s pulled it off. Benden will hate all of us for it and he’ll be…’ He trailed off as he saw more movement inside the mouth of the weyr. All at once, he recognised the figure who walked slowly and unsteadily out from the darkness. F’drun’s shirt was torn. His nose was bleeding. He looked as if he was in pain.

D’gar felt an intense rush of relief, tinged with guilt. It didn’t sit right with his conscience, to be happy at another’s misfortune, even though he knew F’drun would have no such scruples.

Neither did H’rek, obviously. ‘Serve the bastard right,’ he said. ‘Wonder who clobbered him?’

‘It doesn’t matter who. What counts is that he’s lost. Don’t you remember me shoving R’gul out of the way near the end of your flight? And you knocked over one of the blue riders yourself.’

H’rek shook his head. ‘It’s all a bit of a blur.’

‘Well, you were away with Rioth at the time, so that’s not surprising.’ As he talked, he watched F’drun. Without his dragon, he couldn’t slink off to his own weyr and Kylara was - busy - in hers, so he had no alternative but to face folk in the dining hall, or to wait for Ryth outside.

‘How long do you think it’ll be before the greens get caught?’

‘Nowhere near as long as it took with Prideth, thankfully.’

‘The riders weren’t looking forward to it. V’chal was telling me some horror stories about mass mating flights.’

Trust V’chal. ‘Well, at least you don’t have to worry about that.’

‘Not this time around. But it could happen, another time, if Rioth’s close to rising.’

‘Well, it could, yes…’ F’drun had decided to stay outside. He slumped down on one of the benches and sat with his head in his hands, looking somehow diminished.

‘V’chal said dragons can get hurt too, when there’s that many involved.’

‘Remind me to strangle V’chal, next time we see him.’

H’rek made a face. ‘He was only telling me how it is. Sometimes you don’t, do you?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You keep trying to protect me, like I’m some naive Holder girl.’

‘I don’t.’ Although there was an edge of truth in that. ‘Look, you’re young…’

‘I’m older than you were when you first fought Thread.’

That was true enough. ‘It was different for me. I’m Weyrbred. I grew up with… all this.’

‘And i’ve got to live with it. I’m going to find out all these things one way or another. It’s nice to have a bit of warning.’

A few riders were already filing out of the flight weyr. H’rek looked at them. ‘Is it all over?’

‘Looks like one of them’s got caught already. There were at least eight greens ready to rise by my count.’

H’rek’s eyes flicked toward the riders again. His expression changed as if he’d just realised something. ’You mean everyone’s in there. Together?’

D’gar smiled. ‘Now who’s being Holdbred? Where else do you think they’d go?’

‘That’s a bit… public.’

‘As if they’re going to be caring about that. Anyway, you can talk. You practically pinned me up against your dragon not an hour ago right out on our weyr ledge.’

‘That’s different.’

‘Not much. Anyway, if Rioth was involved, or Herebeth, you or I could be in that cave right now. It’s just something you have to do for your dragon. Most of the riders who end up having sex during a mating flight wouldn’t necessarily choose to do it with that person given the option.’

H’rek looked down at the ground. ‘That happened to me, before. R’gan and I couldn’t even look at each other for a couple of days. It was really embarrassing.’

R’gan. That was one of the bronzes, wasn’t it? And… ‘Wasn’t he the one who died yesterday?’

H’rek nodded briefly.

‘You should have said something.’

‘I did. I told you we didn’t get on. I’m sorry he’s dead, of course. But if I’d been the one who’d gone I don’t expect he’d have been particularly cut up about it either.’

‘Shells, H’rek, you’re starting to sound like one of us.’ It was his turn to be shocked now.

‘Well, maybe some of your good advice has rubbed off on me.’

A shadow passed over the Bowl. A couple of bronzes were gliding in; unmistakably Benden dragons from their sheer size and huge wingspan. One of them stumbled as he landed on his weyr ledge, the other wasn’t quick enough furling his wings and scraped the rocky wall.

‘Hath and Tuenth,’ H’rek said. ‘They look done in.’

‘It was a long flight. I’m guessing she led them quite a dance.’

‘Will they be all right?’

‘Nothing a day or two’s rest won’t fix. They’ll probably eat a few herdbeasts each once they’re recovered enough to go and hunt. Good job they don’t have to fight Thread for a few more days.’ If they weren’t up to it by then, they’d have to let their Wingseconds take over.

D’gar looked up again, narrowing his eyes against the sun. There were a couple of dark spots visible in the sky; more drop outs from the mating flights, he guessed. As they came closer one resolved into a turquoise-blue dragon who had evidently strained his left wing from the way he was favouring it. ‘Healers will need to take a look at that one,’ he commented to H’rek. They watched as his flight path wavered and he landed heavily next to the lake, sending up a flurry of muddy water.

His rider, one of those who’d just left the flight cave, started running across towards the floundering dragon, who was slipping in the mud as he attempted to get himself onto firmer ground. D’gar tried to make out the second dragon. It was another bronze, but smaller and stockier in build than the two who’d already made it back.

‘It’s Ryth,’ he said, recognising the distinctive pale bronze colour. He was losing height rapidly and only just made it over the rim. D’gar glanced over to F’drun, who got to his feet unsteadily, helpless as his dragon struggled to stay aloft.

H’rek shaded his eyes as he watched. ‘He doesn’t look good. Wonder what’s happened to him?’

‘I can’t see any injuries. He’s probably just exhausted.’

Ryth was trying to emulate the blue and go for a soft landing but he was coming in too fast, overshooting the lake and the marshy ground beyond it. The blue dragon shrieked and ducked away as the stricken bronze just missed him before hitting the ground and skidding a couple of dragon lengths across the scree.

F’drun gave a cry of pain and pushed himself away from the wall. He managed a few paces, before he stumbled and fell.

‘Should we help him?’

‘I’m not sure if he’d appreciate it.’ D’gar watched Ryth trying to raise his head. One of his wings flapped feebly, catching the wind like a sail. ‘Go and find the dragon healers, if someone’s not already done it,’ he told H’rek. He sprinted off in the direction of the infirmary.

F’drun attempted to get to his feet. A couple of Benden riders who were walking out of the dining hall spotted him and went over to see what was wrong. He cursed and hit out as they tried to give him a hand. After a few moments, they walked off, shaking their heads.

D’gar didn’t expect he’d be received any better - a lot worse in all probability - but he wasn’t just going to stand and do nothing when someone’s dragon might be hurt.

‘I thought I told you to piss off.’ F’drun swore, not looking up. ‘I can manage.’

‘You don’t look as if you can.’

Hearing his voice, F’drun raised his head. ‘Oh. Might have known you’d be around to enjoy this. Same goes for you. Piss off and leave me alone.’

‘I could. But it would probably be more useful if I called Herebeth and got him to fly you across to your dragon. Come on now. You don’t want the Benden lot to see you like this.’

F’drun gave a brief nod. D’gar helped him to stand, then guided him back to the bench where he sat down heavily.

Herebeth. Need you down here now.

In a short while, the brown dragon made a precise landing close by. ‘Can you get on?’ he asked F’drun.

‘I’m not totally helpless.’ He gave D’gar a glare, which he took as a sign that he was feeling more like himself. ‘Get your dragon to drop down and I’ll manage.’

Herebeth’s eyes whirled with a tinge of red. Why are you helping that man?

His dragon is hurt.

He would not help you.

I know. But shall we just get this over with? Can you crouch, please?

Herebeth lowered himself reluctantly, huffing slightly and twitching his tail to express his displeasure as D’gar gave F’drun a leg up so that he managed to grab one of the neck ridges and pull himself up the rest of the way. He groaned slightly as he settled himself. D’gar climbed on quickly and they flew across to the side of the lake.

Close up, it was clear that Ryth had injured a leg with his hard landing. Green ichor oozed from between his talons, some of which appeared broken. His elbow joint looked as if it was twisted too and there were a few scrapes on his hide from sliding across the sharp scree.

‘Dragon healers should be on the way soon.’ D’gar said.

F’drun ignored him and limped over to settle himself next to his dragon, shutting his eyes as his back rested against Ryth’s flank.

Well, he’d not expected any thanks. At least he’d done the right thing, though.

He will never thank you. Herebeth said, a little sadly. Ryth is hurting. He collided with another dragon in mid-air.

More dragons were returning from the various mating flights. As D’gar turned to mount Herebeth, several small groups flew overhead, blues, browns and greens. Thankfully, none seemed harmed and all were flying well. Then a vast shadow crossed the Bowl and he caught a glimpse of golden hide in sunlight, flanked by a dark bronze, flying wing to wing with her. Prideth and her mate. He wasn’t so familiar with the Benden dragons to say for sure, but it looked like Orth. From the vantage point of Herebeth’s neck, he glanced back towards Ryth. F’drun didn’t even look up as the heavy beat of strong wings faded into the distance.

Come on, then. Let’s get back and see who caught who.

It was some time later that the riders started coming back to join their wing mates. As always, folk drummed on the tables and cheered as each pair made their way into the dining hall. Kylara was still conspicuous by her absence.

‘Orth and Prideth are twining necks in her weyr,’ H’rek told him. ‘Kylara won’t be happy, but Prideth obviously is.’

‘What do you think she’ll do with F’drun now?’

‘Drop him like hot cakes if I know Kylara. He didn’t deliver the goods. She’s unlikely to give him a second chance.’

‘Well, that’s something, anyway.’ R’feem’s Piroth had caught a Benden green. ‘That’s going to put the dragon among the wherries again,’ he whispered into H’rek’s ear. ‘Another one of our dragons catching one of yours.’ R’feem was pouring out klah and chatting in friendly fashion with the rider, who looked a few Turns older than himself.

‘Well, it goes both ways, doesn’t it? Zurinth got caught by Izaeth. He’s one of Ramoth’s hatching.’

J’rud looked much happier than he had earlier. Both he and Zurinth had come through unscathed and he seemed to be getting on very well with the handsome young rider sitting beside him.

Noticing where his eyes were wandering, H’rek supplied a name. ‘Sh’ran. He was down south with us, of course.’

‘Good looking lad.’

‘I always thought that too,’ H’rek said, with a cheeky grin. ‘Bavi kept trying to pair us off, but…’

‘But what?’

‘I was too shy, back then. Funny how things change.’ He leaned closer. ‘Bavi told me she overheard another discussion about re-establishing Southern. It’s definitely going ahead. Lessa wants Kylara shipped off there before Prideth clutches. Ramoth doesn’t fancy sharing her hatching ground and Lessa just wants rid of Kylara.’

‘You can’t blame her, after that scene we saw this morning.’

‘She also heard it was T’bor who hit F’drun. Apparently, Ryth tried to make a move on Prideth and Orth just barged him aside right into a cliff. So T’bor did the same to him.’

Well, that would explain the injuries then. After being treated and numbed, Ryth had managed to make it as far as one of the ground level weyrs where injured dragons could recuperate without having to fly. D’gar wondered how long he’d be out of action. Two more dragons in R’feem’s Wing had been hurt, although none as badly as Ryth. M’rell sat disconsolately in a corner, drinking steadily. Toth was one of those who had lost out in the mass mating flight.

‘I’m going to go over and try to console M’rell. He’s not had a good day of it.’

‘Right. I’ll see if I can find out any more gossip, shall I?’

D’gar refilled his klah. He walked over to where M’rell had planted himself.

‘What do you want?’

‘To find out how you are. And Toth.’

‘Got a tail across his face. Hurt his eye.’

‘Bad luck.’

M’rell drained his cup and poured more wine. ‘All right for you to say, isn’t it? Your dragon caught a Benden green first time. You got the Wingsecond’s job without even trying.’

‘I nearly drowned,’ he protested. ‘Anyway, I didn’t see you standing up to F’drun.’

‘I’m not stupid enough for that.’

‘Oh, thanks.’ He hadn’t come over to argue. ‘Look, can’t you just accept that I got it fair and square. I know we were both doing the job back in the past but there was only one vacancy this time around.’

M’rell glanced over to B’lin, who had his arm around K’fol. Ondiath had managed to catch Greth again. They both seemed content with that. ‘Pity his dragon didn’t get mashed today. Then there’d have been another.’

‘M’rell! That’s not a kind thing to say.’ He’d obviously had a fair bit to drink. ‘You don’t mean that.’

‘Maybe I do. Maybe I’m sick of all the favouritism in this Wing.’

‘What? R’feem’s as fair as he’s always been. It’s not like the old days, granted, but we’re coming together pretty well now. He’s had a difficult job.’

‘You always take his side. Sure he’s not your dad? Or maybe there’s something else going on with you two?’

M’rell was just baiting him now. ‘You’re drunk. I’ll talk to you again when you aren’t.’

‘You don’t need to talk to me at all these days. I’m nobody. I can’t do you any favours so you might as well save your breath.’

D’gar got up again. ‘I’ll leave you to drown your sorrows, then.’ He walked slowly back to his usual spot. In a closed environment like a Weyr, friendships and other relationships sometimes became strained. It just seemed to be worse since they came forward and transferred to Benden and he couldn’t think of anything he could do to make it better.

©1967-2022 Ann McCaffrey, Todd McCaffrey, Gigi McCaffrey; All Rights Reserved; Copyright © 2020 Mawgrim; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction that combine worlds created by the original content owner with names, places, characters, events, and incidents that are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, organizations, companies, events or locales are entirely coincidental.
Authors are responsible for properly crediting Original Content creator for their creative works.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Dragonriders of Pern series was created by Ann McCaffrey in 1967 and spans 24+ books published by Ballantine Books, Atheneum Books, Bantam Books, and Del Rey Books.  Any recognizable content in this story is from Ann McCaffrey, Todd McCaffrey, Gigi McCaffrey or their representatives or inheritors.  <br> Original content provided by author of this FanFiction story without monetary compensation. <br>

Story Discussion Topic

It is with great sadness I must announce the death of Mawgrim, Promising Author on GA. He had been in declining health for some time and passed away on Christmas Day. Mawgrim worked for decades as a cinema projectionist before his retirement and was able to use this breadth of knowledge to his stories set in cinemas. He also gave us stories with his take on the World of Pern with its dragon riders. He will be greatly missed and our condolences go out to his friends, family, and his husband.
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Chapter Comments

There is a lot going on in this chapter. I'm glad that F'drun lost out, but I'm sorry to hear that Ryth got hurt. F'drun needs to pay more attention to his dragon's needs instead of just sitting around and letting the healers tend to Ryth's injuries! I really dislike him. I also wonder what is going on with M'rell. Is he really that shallow as to blame D'gar for his not getting picked as the wing-second, or is something else going on? Only time will tell, but I hope it doesn't take too long. Finally, I hope that Southern gets reopened soon. I'm curious as to how they are going to manage that. I'm already looking forward to the next chapter!

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20 hours ago, Lutheros said:

Finally, I hope that Southern gets reopened soon. I'm curious as to how they are going to manage that.

At the end of Dragonflight it’s mentioned that they will reopen Southern and by the time Dragonquest begins (7 Turns later) it’s well established, so I’m going on the premise they got down there as soon as they could. Plus it’s a way for Lessa to get shot of Kylara. As for how they manage it when they still have an understrength Weyr coping with Threadfall in the north, well, that's going to take some working out.

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F'drun got his comeuppance and it was well deserved.  I can't believe he was so much of an ass that he didn't think of his dragon's pain and hurt.  He only thought of his own pride.  I also think, like other comments have said, that there must be something that has happened to M'rell.  He is not acting like himself right now.  I wonder who will be sent to staff Southern.  I hope it is none of our boys if Kylara is there.

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On 2/8/2022 at 3:31 PM, raven1 said:

F'drun got his comeuppance and it was well deserved.  I can't believe he was so much of an ass that he didn't think of his dragon's pain and hurt.  He only thought of his own pride.  I also think, like other comments have said, that there must be something that has happened to M'rell.  He is not acting like himself right now.  I wonder who will be sent to staff Southern.  I hope it is none of our boys if Kylara is there.

M'rell has various reasons, which become clear over the next few chapters.

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2 minutes ago, Ordu378 said:

I certainly hope so. Up to the last chapter or so, M'rell has always got on with D'gar. Last I remember, he really didn't want the position until the changes came when the wing went to Benden.

M'rell was never that bothered about being Wingsecond before, but there are other issues he's dealing with. Right now he's just seeing that D'gar is having more success at Benden than he is.

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