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Discussion in 'Rifles, Bullets, Barrels & Ballistics' started by samson, May 7, 2003.
I was at the range today. Temp was around 68 degrees. I fired around 40 rounds and noticed that the last 3 groups were horrible. The barrel was very hot. When you guys shoot, how long do you wait in between shots. Also do you do anything to cool the barrel down?
After the first couple couple shots, I wait about 2-4 minutes between shots depending on barrel contour, cartridge, temperature and wind... what ever it takes to keep the bbl temp the same, which is just "barely" warm to "cool" to the touch.
Throat errosion is the worst enemy with heating them up excessively. Groups may change as tolerances change and length of time the cartridge dwells is the chamber before firing, a "good" chronograph will indicate how bbl temp is affecting velocity and thus trajectory, also harmonics will change if this occurs. Alot can go on if things aren't kept consistant.
When I shoot steel at long range, I'll always shoot groups like I would hunting to see how the rifle performs in that situation. If I am making a drop chart, I keep all things consistant, as I do on load development.
Noting the cold shot impact is very important, as well as point of impact shifts.
I only start making a chart, load development, or head out hunting with at least 3 rounds through the barrel to foul it first, some guns take 5... no oil in the bore after that, just tape on the muzzle when hunting.
Some loads toward maximum load are more sensitive to bbl heating than others, a good chrono will tell you what's happening in the chamber though.
I've noticed on my 300 Ultra, that after about 25-30 rounds... groups start to open up. I know to clean it after about twenty to 25 rounds now if I'm serious about getting meaningfull results, yours may foul up bad enough it needs cleaned under thirty rounds too.
samson, I think you shoot a 300 winnie, right. You might want start cleaning around 20rds as Brent stated, If you haven't started to do so already. If you want to know where your first shot is going, as for a hunting situation, you might want to shoot 1 round every 10min. that will give your barrel time to cool off quite a bit, if you just want to shoot the ---- thing, take 3 shots and let er' cool down for 10-15min. Or you can do what the varmint guys do and bring out a portable air compressor and blow air down the barrel to cool er' off. Jay.
Amen to Jay, on the 20 round clean out!!
That's what all my rifle's get.
While you wait for the barrel to cool, run a rod through it...sakofan..
Samson, I only let me barrels get warm to the touch, never hot. I wrap them with wet cold towels to help cool faster. I bring a small pop can cooler with water and an ice pack during the summer.
As to cleaning, I am different. I only clean when the rifle shows degrading accuracy. Maybe it is because I use moly but I rarely find the need to clean at 20rds. Usually, 50rds or more go before I think about it. A couple haven't been cleaned and they are approaching 70rds.
Some rifles shoot best when fouled, some heavily fouled. Over cleaning is just as bad as not cleaning enough. If you are shooting on paper, keep shooting until you see your groups open up dramatically (like double in size). Then only clean as much as you need to restore accuracy.
You will read that most will need a few fouling shots to get their barrels to settle down before shooting their best. Well, after those fouling shots, the barrel is pretty dirty.
I agree, I only clean if my gun won't group consistantly anymore. After groups fall apart when only 20-30 rounds been down the bore, it's definataly "over fouled". I've never shot beyond 20 more rounds after that point to see if it would settle down again, too easy to clean then go another 20-30 that I know for sure will be right on.
I've read that some guys accuracy don't fall apart until 100-150 round when using moly.... wouldn't that be the cats ---!! Haven't heard if the same's true with tungsten disulfide coatings or not.
I have a couple rifles that don't degrade noticably for over 50 rounds, but I rarely shoot one rifle over that many in one day at the range so they all get cleaned at that point if they need it or not. Just can't stand the thought of getting started the next time out and groups going to hell after the first few round down range basically. One of these rifles has the roughest bore you could imagine too.
Jerry, heard about the dirty bore thing on shotguns from "old-timers" but never with rifles. Shooting during summer months is limiting because of heat. I have been out for several hours in the heat, and because of it, not gotten off many rounds.

lowercased:
discussion in 'rifles, bullets, barrels & ballistics' started by samson, may 7, 2003.
i was at the range today. temp was around 68 degrees. i fired around 40 rounds and noticed that the last 3 groups were horrible. the barrel was very hot. when you guys shoot, how long do you wait in between shots. also do you do anything to cool the barrel down?
after the first couple couple shots, i wait about 2-4 minutes between shots depending on barrel contour, cartridge, temperature and wind... what ever it takes to keep the bbl temp the same, which is just "barely" warm to "cool" to the touch.
throat errosion is the worst enemy with heating them up excessively. groups may change as tolerances change and length of time the cartridge dwells is the chamber before firing, a "good" chronograph will indicate how bbl temp is affecting velocity and thus trajectory, also harmonics will change if this occurs. alot can go on if things aren't kept consistant.
when i shoot steel at long range, i'll always shoot groups like i would hunting to see how the rifle performs in that situation. if i am making a drop chart, i keep all things consistant, as i do on load development.
noting the cold shot impact is very important, as well as point of impact shifts.
i only start making a chart, load development, or head out hunting with at least 3 rounds through the barrel to foul it first, some guns take 5... no oil in the bore after that, just tape on the muzzle when hunting.
some loads toward maximum load are more sensitive to bbl heating than others, a good chrono will tell you what's happening in the chamber though.
i've noticed on my 300 ultra, that after about 25-30 rounds... groups start to open up. i know to clean it after about twenty to 25 rounds now if i'm serious about getting meaningfull results, yours may foul up bad enough it needs cleaned under thirty rounds too.
samson, i think you shoot a 300 winnie, right. you might want start cleaning around 20rds as brent stated, if you haven't started to do so already. if you want to know where your first shot is going, as for a hunting situation, you might want to shoot 1 round every 10min. that will give your barrel time to cool off quite a bit, if you just want to shoot the ---- thing, take 3 shots and let er' cool down for 10-15min. or you can do what the varmint guys do and bring out a portable air compressor and blow air down the barrel to cool er' off. jay.
amen to jay, on the 20 round clean out!!
that's what all my rifle's get.
while you wait for the barrel to cool, run a rod through it...sakofan..
samson, i only let me barrels get warm to the touch, never hot. i wrap them with wet cold towels to help cool faster. i bring a small pop can cooler with water and an ice pack during the summer.
as to cleaning, i am different. i only clean when the rifle shows degrading accuracy. maybe it is because i use moly but i rarely find the need to clean at 20rds. usually, 50rds or more go before i think about it. a couple haven't been cleaned and they are approaching 70rds.
some rifles shoot best when fouled, some heavily fouled. over cleaning is just as bad as not cleaning enough. if you are shooting on paper, keep shooting until you see your groups open up dramatically (like double in size). then only clean as much as you need to restore accuracy.
you will read that most will need a few fouling shots to get their barrels to settle down before shooting their best. well, after those fouling shots, the barrel is pretty dirty.
i agree, i only clean if my gun won't group consistantly anymore. after groups fall apart when only 20-30 rounds been down the bore, it's definataly "over fouled". i've never shot beyond 20 more rounds after that point to see if it would settle down again, too easy to clean then go another 20-30 that i know for sure will be right on.
i've read that some guys accuracy don't fall apart until 100-150 round when using moly.... wouldn't that be the cats ---!! haven't heard if the same's true with tungsten disulfide coatings or not.
i have a couple rifles that don't degrade noticably for over 50 rounds, but i rarely shoot one rifle over that many in one day at the range so they all get cleaned at that point if they need it or not. just can't stand the thought of getting started the next time out and groups going to hell after the first few round down range basically. one of these rifles has the roughest bore you could imagine too.
jerry, heard about the dirty bore thing on shotguns from "old-timers" but never with rifles. shooting during summer months is limiting because of heat. i have been out for several hours in the heat, and because of it, not gotten off many rounds.


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The last neighbors, strangers, and friends had just left Pancake Mondays at Patrick’s apartment when another neighbor knocked to say thank you for the invitation we left on his door. Ted had lived across the hall from Patrick for 6 months, but they had still never met.
For some unfortunate reasons, we have moved the Pancake Mondays operation to Patrick’s apartment for the month of March. And (are we surprised?) what appeared to be every bit evil, God has turned into every bit good. Patrick and I both have griddles now and the ingredients float between our apartments as we host neighbors, strangers, and friends for pancakes and waffles and bacon.
Last night, we all sat on armchairs and stools and leaned against the wall with criss-crossed legs on wood floors. Tam took drink orders and I flipped waffles in the kitchen and Patrick taste-tested until we got the recipe and timing just right (wafflemaker courtesy of my favorite neighbor-friend Yeun).
Everything about Monday night was just the right amount. Laughter, conversation, neighbors, and friendly banter. Good, old-fashioned neighborhood love was happening around a coffee table stacked with waffles, coconut jam, peanut butter, raspberry jam, coconut, syrup, and chocolate chips.
I think we tripled a cinnamon vanilla waffle batch and served 13 people in all. I saw several neighbors as I was taping up invites and those who had plans asked if there would be a repeat the following week. “Yes!” is fun to say when it means more pancakes and neighbors and crowded living rooms.
I kept wandering into the kitchen to let out excited squeals and Patrick kept following me to match my joy because community was happening in the other room. It’s like we uncovered a secret that God has already spoken so plainly: the love Christ has lavished on us is meant to be lavished on others.
So, we crack the door open, mix up some batter, and trust His love won’t run out.
This entry was posted in cooking and baking, lessons learned, Life Insight, Mondays, this is me, Thoughts. Tagged Christian community, Christian life, Christian love, Christianity, community, neighborhood, neighbors, pancake mondays, pancakes.

lowercased:
the last neighbors, strangers, and friends had just left pancake mondays at patrick’s apartment when another neighbor knocked to say thank you for the invitation we left on his door. ted had lived across the hall from patrick for 6 months, but they had still never met.
for some unfortunate reasons, we have moved the pancake mondays operation to patrick’s apartment for the month of march. and (are we surprised?) what appeared to be every bit evil, god has turned into every bit good. patrick and i both have griddles now and the ingredients float between our apartments as we host neighbors, strangers, and friends for pancakes and waffles and bacon.
last night, we all sat on armchairs and stools and leaned against the wall with criss-crossed legs on wood floors. tam took drink orders and i flipped waffles in the kitchen and patrick taste-tested until we got the recipe and timing just right (wafflemaker courtesy of my favorite neighbor-friend yeun).
everything about monday night was just the right amount. laughter, conversation, neighbors, and friendly banter. good, old-fashioned neighborhood love was happening around a coffee table stacked with waffles, coconut jam, peanut butter, raspberry jam, coconut, syrup, and chocolate chips.
i think we tripled a cinnamon vanilla waffle batch and served 13 people in all. i saw several neighbors as i was taping up invites and those who had plans asked if there would be a repeat the following week. “yes!” is fun to say when it means more pancakes and neighbors and crowded living rooms.
i kept wandering into the kitchen to let out excited squeals and patrick kept following me to match my joy because community was happening in the other room. it’s like we uncovered a secret that god has already spoken so plainly: the love christ has lavished on us is meant to be lavished on others.
so, we crack the door open, mix up some batter, and trust his love won’t run out.
this entry was posted in cooking and baking, lessons learned, life insight, mondays, this is me, thoughts. tagged christian community, christian life, christian love, christianity, community, neighborhood, neighbors, pancake mondays, pancakes.


text:
The beating of my wings filled the air around me, and clear venom bedewed my fangs. There was a faint tinge to it, but I couldn’t taste what. I let the thought light and felt the beating of my wings. I was alone again. But that didn’t matter as much as the lightning flutter in my heart, flashing through my veins.
I flicked my tongue, waving it in the air before pressing it to my vomer. Moving my head to either side, I built a sense of direction, of scent gradients. A new smell had appeared: urine, off to the side of the ape’s old path.
Was it that scared? It should be. That flightless monkey had hurt my friend. I would hurt it.
The mixed scent of urine and blood didn’t move in the next few moments. Was it tired at last? Did it think I lost its trail?
I flapped my wings, harder, anger straightening my slow bounding flight. I could keep waiting for Hinte, or I could catch the human myself and show her. I was swooping down to the spot, growling.
On the ground, I only saw a wet puddle and scraps of torn, bloody cloth. I landed, flicking my tongue again. Near the puddle sat a circular human canteen, black and smelling of sharp, dead leather. And around it there were other splashed wet spots, like water pour out, that smelled slightly of sweat. I tilted my head before jerking it up. It had rinsed its scent, even if partially. I should have gone after it with the chance.
I smelled drops of blood on the ground here, leading off in a kind of trail. There were footprints too, vague things, and they seemed to stop suddenly with the urine puddle. I leapt up, flying low along where the blood pointed, waiting for the urine scent to fade, the distant blood and sweat to come clear again.
“Following the ape’s trail?” I said.
She flipped away then, flying opposite me. I flew after her, catching up in a few beats. Flying was something I did better than her, at least. I slowed my pace to fly beside her, and smiled at her.
With a crinkling of my frills, I did as she said.
The smell found me again, coming from the distance, the other side of the spot where we left our bags. Hinte had been right. This human was tricky.
Without waiting for Hinte or for the human to tire, I winged low after them until I could see the human jogging over the dustone. It moved fast, even with its weight. Had it kept that pace the entire time? At least we can fly. It might have escaped us if we had to chase it on foot.
Fanning my frills, they caught a familiar skittering crunch. Below me, a dozen glasscrabs scurried in pursuit of the human! I needed to be quick. The human looked back as it ran. It held a glowing pink cryst in its mouth and there was a similar glow in its forefeet.
What was it up to? Would it try to use the crysts to make the glasscrabs attack me? The crabs were scurrying behind it. I could land in front of the human, trap it between the crabs and me.
Threshing my wings, I overtook the human. After twisting in the air and crashing in front of the ape, I glared, fangs out, wings spread. The ape flinched, and clutched its hold on the corpse slung over its shoulder.
I growled and stepped forward. “Got you,” I said. From my fangs, I spat a stream of weak venom at its face. It would only irritate, but it’d buy me a few seconds.
The ape brought its free leg to its eyes, and my venom splattered on its armored sleeve, dripping and soaking and useless.
Its other foreleg moved to its mouth, and there came a quick dissonant whistle. It repeated the notes, three times, and never lowered its foreleg.
And then, the ape spoke. “No.” Its voice sounded garbled. “Get you.” In its mouth, The hisses and growls of our language felt forced and alien.
The ape threw the pink cryst at my feet; then it reached into a pocket. A foot-sized clay orb was in its forefeet before flying at my face. The clay orb fell short, and cracked apart on the ground.
My world became blinding white light that mocked the suns and stars. My frills fell over my eyes — but when I moved them, only suffocating blind darkness was there.
Somewhere near me a wet rag smacked onto the ground, stinking of the musky scent the crab had marked me with earlier. After this came cracking footfalls sprinting away from me. The skittering crunches came upon me in heartbeats. I flapped my wings to scare them, to give me space to leap up and land a few strides away.
I looked around, breathing, breathing until the world started to clear.
“It’s a saying — my point is that the ape is crafty, okay? We might have to work together to catch it.” I looked to the writhing mass of crabs. They’d ripped the ape’s wet rag to shreds, and were climbing over each other to chance at the cryst.
“It only has time for all of these ploys because you fall for the most apterous tricks. Let me handle this.” Hinte turned around, crouching.
“Can we at least try my plan?” A tiny bit of pleading entered my tone.
My frills were dancing beside my head. My plan is going to be awesome — Hinte will taste it. After waving my own tongue in the air, I leapt up again, and raced after the apes’ scent. As I flew after it, I heard whistles resounding across the lake. The notes sounded complex, cacophonous, unmusical. Then came another complex whistling, from far behind me. That couldn’t be good.
As I drew in on the ape, my frills folded and I prayed the endless stars my plan would work.
I yelled, “Hey ape!” It felt like a leap.
The reply was more whistling, the human not even glancing up — then, it spoke. “Betrayer,” was the distorted answer, its tongue garbling our sibilants. It sounded like it had a lisp.
“You betray.” Another whistle, a single note response.
“Hey, we’re only here for the crysts. The little glowy stone things. You have another. I know you do.” I prayed you did.
Its whistling held for longer, with another short response.
me. She’d had more of a surprise.
direct fight on some level.
The human was clutching the corpse on its shoulder tighter, and had managed a single step backward. Breathing in massive pants, its body swayed with exhaustion. It recovered like molten glass turning to brittle dustone, and at length slowly spoke, maybe tasting that I didn’t attack it, or move at all, really.
“I no want death dragon.” Its words came out sounding deliberated, yet it must have a weak grasp of y Draig, as told by its word choice.
“Me neither,” I said, not sure how to respond or even what it meant. The ape stared at me, eyeing every inch of my body for motion. It spoke again after breaths and breaths.
I raised a foreleg, and the ape started back and lifted its other limb, toes splayed.
The ape stared. But its face shifted, eye-cover things squeezing together. Maybe it tasted my meaning? It reached again into a pocket.
Now I tensed, wary of another blinding orb. But it produced the pink stone, holding it out.
It didn’t step closer, so I stepped forth. The foreleg holding its friend shifted. I reached for the cryst. That other foreleg stabbed at my neck.
“Death!” it yelled. Its friend was falling to the ground beside it.
I screamed out of the way. The blade was slicing the scales of my neck.
A bright-white figure swooped from the sky, growling. Hinte dropped onto the human, claws slashing its neck. Blood gushed. Hinte ripped at the human’s stomach.
Already exhausted, the human crumbled. To the ground it fell beside its comrade. Its forefoot felt along the ground, seeking and finding that of its dearest friend. The human coughed, chest wounds and vog catching up to it. In between its death coughs, the ape yelled its last words.
“You–you monster.” It gave one last sputter and moved no more.
“That took long enough,” Hinte said.
Hinte had inclined her head, almost thoughtful. She had the look of someone unlistening and determined, and already building her answer.
My back was to the bright-white figure, now.
I picked up the pink cryst, shook my head. “I don’t care about crysts. I just got them so that you’d think I was actually worth something for once. That I was helpful.” I dropped the cryst.
I didn’t have to say anything else.
Hinte inclined her head, and left.
I lay there and dewed for a bit.
I couldn’t stay. The heat, my thirst, the stinking vog, everything awful about this lake would get to me eventually. I don’t know why I lay there — but if I moved, where would I go?
I’d wanted things to be simple. When I came to the land of glass and secrets, it wasn’t for anything big — there were my brother’s plans, looming, but those were nothing but an excuse, a chimerical hope. I’d thought I wanted the simple life, somewhere small and cozy to live, maybe find a cute drake, maybe lay a few eggs.
All my life, I never really worried about death. It was something only the nadir had to worry about, something only my sister had to understand.
I — didn’t like it.
The sound of beating wings found me then, coming back around. I found the dark figure in the distant vog. Her flight looked faltering and lopsided. Why? Because her wing membrane is bandaged, because her wing was stabbed, because she fought the humans, because I had let her fly to the overhang alone, just like I was letting her fly to the last ape alone.
What difference would I make, anyway?
I’d bravely flown to the center of the lake for crysts — and got my lungs poisoned. I needed Hinte to save me from the glazed olms. I bravely slinked after a strange sound in the lake — and let the human escape. I needed Hinte to save me from that human.
I wanted Hinte to finally admit I was useful, and she didn’t because I wasn’t. She’d even warned me that being loud in the lake would wake rockwraiths. I was probably the reason the first human had been attacked at all.
This was all my fault. Maybe if I left the lake entirely, things would go right for once.
I stood up. This wasn’t giving up. I still had the crab blood, I could still brew the Munditi Sieve. I leapt in the air, and started winging back to where this mess started, where my bags still sat.
I flew my lonely flight through the vasty lake. The plates still rumbled beneath me, and the wind still seemed to laugh in my inner ear. In the distance, distorted by endless echoes, the last ape was whistling. It repeated the same sequence of notes, again and again. The spaces between them grew shorter and shorter, and the notes faster and frantic.
Time wound longer, and I didn’t count ghost-swallows, after what happened last time I tried to drink while flying. At last, I came near where we’d left our bags.
All around circled a moat of molten glass, only a few strides wide. The glass revealed blasted the air above it, stirring it into a vortex of swirling dust. A wave of heat barreled into me like an angry varjotuoksu player with one last chance to win.
The swirling clouds here concealed whatever behind the moat with our bags — the clouds looked even darker than usual, an inky blackness.
At my pace, Hinte had to have already flown into the vortex, but I stayed, landing with only a small, light flex of the lake skin, and peering long into the swirling clouds.
You could hope it was just my bags and Hinte on the other side, but it was a windless hope. Who’d dug the moat?
My head twitched. I shook it a few times, the muscles of my neck seeming to have a mind of their own. Had the wuthering excitement of the day already caught up to me? Steady as I tried to be, the twitching in my neck grew worse, and burning.
I was pacing around the moat. The human had to know Hinte had another dragon with her. They’d expect me. But would they expect me to run? I just need to slip in the moat, grab my bags and get out of here. That’s all.
I needed to step in. My nerve was strongest now. If I flagged, maybe it’d never be done.
I took a breath, then leapt over the moat.
First thing you saw was my crab stabbed and discarded on the fringe.
I had its blood, but still felt some kind of loss. I fluttered my wings to soften my landing, but I still crashed onto the dustone island.
A twang sounded, followed by jagged voice shrieking. My gaze snapped up.
The dark-green wiver faltered low in the air. Her right wing half-folded and she rolled to the ground, landing rough.
“Hinte!” I called. My eyes traced the path of the projectile back to a alien figure hobbled on the ground steps from our bags.
The ape turned to me, whipping around a gray weapon. The bow!
I rolled. My wings curled on their own. The arrow flew over my body. I whipped my head around — but this new island had no cover at all, at all.
A biting spear of pain stabbed into my shoulder. I screamed. My legs scrambled under me. I managed a stand, and faltered in the very next second as I half-leapt, half-stepped away.
The straight bow tracked my movements with precise jerks. I leapt, threshing my wings, and flew up.
From up here, you could see the breaks in the skin, still glowing, where Hinte and I had played around, and steps from the hobbled figure you could see the bags I’d snuck in here to grab; but only in the that single moment of calm before you saw the human and its jerking its gray weapon up at you, its face contorted in some toothy expression.
I swerved and twisted in the air as three more arrows stabbed a course toward me. On the ground, trails of blood streaked all along the moat, and led to and from the spot where the human sat hobbled.
Another spear of pain bit into my wing! My next flap faltered, and the wing was spasming. I spun in the air. Breathless, I made a scream empty and choked.
At the very edge of the island, the lake skin crashed into me. Forelegs, hindlegs, wings, tail, head, all scrambling. It was all I could do to not fall into the lake.
My wings writhed, and pain flooded them to the tips of every finger. The arrow had hit the base of my wing, and not punctured the membrane. My breath drew back into me, and I clamped down on my scream.
Maybe the human would hope I was dead?
Another twang came and went with a splitting pop of the ground beside me, and answered was my question.
But a growl had come with it. Did… did Hinte ruin the ape’s aim at the last moment?
I struggled to my feet. Hinte stood by the human, and in her claws gripped the human foreleg. The human now crouched, gray bow dropped by its side.
The humans other forefoot swung at her, and she backed off just as quick.
Bronze gleamed between them, catching molten light.
The human had a shortsword and waved it at Hinte.
If Hinte pressed the attack, it would stab her. If I flew at it, it could stab or slash either of us. The human looked weak, holding itself in a crouch, supporting with its other leg. If I’d learned anything in the last few minutes, I couldn’t underestimate the ape. It thought it could give one good hit before we killed it, and I would too.
Hinte flared her frills in anger. Her bloody wings spread, but she did not step forward again.
“Ja.” Hinte hadn’t even paused. She leapt backward. I wondered why for all of a heartbeat. The ape said it would kill us if we moved, but it now couldn’t even reach either of us.
I leapt without more hesitation, and crashed down beside my bag. Now, both of us stood on either side of the ape. The ape, stepping after Hinte, flinched at my landing.
My forefoot slipped into my bag. Past the crab blood, I grabbed the raisin-looking gem. A third the size of my sole, it slid into my foot.
The ape half-turned, the shortsword still angled at Hinte. But then, it reached to its side, pulling out a long knife and pointed it at me.
What? Wasn’t I worthy of a whole sword? I was a fearsome dragon too! Just because I was smaller than Hinte didn’t mean anything.
The human waved its blade.
Okay. Time for action. “Don’t kill us, please!” I said. The hairs above the human’s eyes shifted, moving closer to its eyes. “We’ll let you go, we don’t want to fight anymore. Look, we’ll even pay you.” I lifted my forefoot, showing the gemstone.
The human stared at me. I outstretched my forefoot, slowly. My toes fell away, freeing the human to pick it up. But it stayed where it was, keeping the two strides between us.
“Hinte, get back.” She looked at me, head tilted. “The human won’t take the payment if you’re right there, free to attack it. Get yourself back.” I injected a little bit of cold authority in my voice, just like mother had taught me. The same tone you’d use to order servants or hatchlings around. I hoped it didn’t sound too condescending.
Hinte was already leaping, meeting the human on the other side in heartbeats. She dug her claws into the ape’s neck. Her venom smelled salty. She brought her claw up to rip at the other side of its throat.
Again, a human crumbled under her and died, eyes wide, feet searching for something to hold onto. It coughed and spat up blood, and I didn’t like how much like a grimace that look on its face was.
I breathed. It was over. “We won.” I didn’t mean to say that aloud.
“You had a good plan,” she said.
“Yes,” she said, drawing out the word. She waved her tongue.
“Oh… that makes sense.” I looked up.
“Um,” I started. I was leaving you to fight the human alone. “I wasn’t flying right into an obvious trap?” Shift the focus, shift the blame.
Hinte jerked at that, looking to her wing. I followed her gaze. There, an arrow punctured her wing.
That pulled a gasp. “They got your wing again! When did that happened?” I reached at her wing. She didn’t move, and let me wriggle the arrow out.
“All the crysts in my bag.” As she spoke, her fangs had unfolded.
“I’m sorry.” I looked down, shuffling over to my bag.
I followed her pointing wing. The pink container sat open by the ape’s gray bow, almost a third of it scoped out.
“It heard me telling you to use it for my wounds.” She snapped her tongue. “No dragon medicine will help the apes, let alone die Wunder. We are of different superclass.” The wiver kicked the ape’s corpse. Her foot hit something, and she flicked her tongue. Digging into the folds of the ape’s corpse, she found another of the blinding orbs.
She hummed yes, placing it in her bag before grabbing more rope from it, and slipping the whole bag around her side, straps tightening. Near the bag, one of my glasscrabs lay with a knife sticking out, turned almost inside out.
“All the way back? Stars above. How did they pull this off in less than a long ring?” I reached down to pick up the crab, but Hinte snapped her tongue.
I hummed. Stepping back toward my bag, I found a bottle of my crab blood spilled out. Desperation or pointless vandalism? I still had two glasses.
I nosed into my bag, and squeaked a little. Sterk was still alive! Was it because he didn’t glow? The human must have missed him. Hinte had twisted her neck to look at me. I pulled the drab green stone from my bag and set him on my head.
Hinte’s neck just twisted further.
But Hinte walked over to the two human corpses, leaving me with the cryst.
“Ja. And I said the last one feigned death. Its wound was fatal. That is why it went nowhere after I left it here.” She walked over the other bodies.
The wiver pointed at a long metal rod with a rubber handle and a mesh sieve at the other end. I slinked over, picked it up. The cured-rubber handle slid right into my foot, my halluxes finding their grooves, and my toes wrapping and settling around it.
I waved it around some, and pointed it at Hinte in a challenge, and swung it with a yarl. She peered at me. As the rod swung, it folded limp in the air. A sigh, andI spat disappointed salty venom at it. It was folded further and fell into my bag.
I snapped my tongue at Hinte, daring her to laugh. She did. I crinkled my frills.
She nodded slow. I smiled and my frills bounced. After it found my bag, I said “I don’t suppose we can forget about the other corpses?” I held the end of my snout with my wings.
As Hinte stepped over to me, she was shaking her had. Grabbing a green container, she said, “Here.” It wiggled as she opened it. It was scooped in her claws and wiped across my neck. The pain of the bleeding line dimmed, feeling cool and sandy.
Hinte bent her frills a bit when she noticed the arrow sticking out of my wings’ shoulder. When she pulled it out, I yelped and the wing spasmed again; but the green jelly soon grounded the pain.
She didn’t smile, but her frills relaxed a touch.
After we returned to the other bodies, I’d grabbed last intact crabstone, and Hinte’d placed both of the humans on my back for me. For a few steps, I thought I’d at long won our argument about carrying equal weights.
As we set off again, my legs buckled under the weight and I slumped over. Hinte growled a complaint, and shuffled the bodies between us again.
I was following farther behind her than earlier. As we walked on, I dwelt on the more than two forefeet difference in length between us, the muscled thickness of her legs, and her wider frame. She even stood taller than me! When I sighed, the lake air had begun cracking the numb shell of the respira.
We marched on all the same, and along the way, we passed the spot where the human had blinded me. The glasscrabs had all left, leaving only the stinking rag and the dim pink cryst. I felt the distant shudder of the other crabstone every few heartbeats, a far cry from what it had felt like before the crabs devoured it.
I beamed at her compliment.
Hinte looked away, wings shifty as she considered my words. A few moments passed before she replied.
I looked up, wings drawing together. There had to be something to say to that. But it never found its way to my lips. The talk frayed apart.
The surface of the lake grew rugged and hilly again. At first it looked like we might have come back to where I met the first sifter, but no blades of dustone stabbed up, and the bands of dustone never grew more pronounced. The winds whipped up again, tossing dust at us and soughing through unseen crevices.
I yelled, leaping across to land behind Hinte. I crouched on the ground, my head swerving around to find the human.
“Again?” Hinte turned, waving her tongue at me.
The sifter waved a wing. “Go ahead. She’s obviously on the same road as us.” They still spoke with that odd, artificially saccharine voice. I didn’t know what to make of it.
“Mawla. Miss Mawla.” Her frills folded up, clinking slightly.
“Mawla sounds like a drake’s name,” Hinte murmured.
“What?” Her frills snapped out with a harsh clack.
Mawla rolled her neck and looked back to me.
“But why would they, uh, imply…” I twirled my alulae.
“Nevermind, I don’t want to know.” My tail constricted my leg. I licked my fangs.
“Gah!” I turned to Hinte. “Save me,” I whispered.
Hinte frowned, but turned to the yellow-brown dragon. “Why are you alone in the lake?” she asked.
“I can handle myself just fine.” Mawla’s frills were contracting.
It sounded familiar. If Hinte had pressed with how sifting on my own was such a bad idea, would I have gotten tired of hearing it, too? Would I have slinked back to Gwymr/Frina alone and friendless?
Hinte already had her fangs out, and she stepped toward the sifter.
Hinte’s frills fanned, and she turned away from me. She turned away from Mawla too, stalking away from the both of us.
“I didn’t want to push her away.” I looked over to Hinte walking away.
And ragged-white figure was gone.
I meant the apology; but a part of me couldn’t help but note just how well this move flew. She either had to forgive me for hiding things, or admit she shouldn’t have hid things from me.
“Um, I did,” I said.
Hinte had looked away, staring off into the lake’s shroud. Hinte’s lantern had created something of a wall between us and the darkness. In it, it felt like we walked a little closer together.
I turned to her, head tilted.
Hinte jerked her head toward me, fangs out.
I squeaked. “Okay, okay, you really totally for-sure found that stone. Can you tell me your secrets now?” I couldn’t help the eagerness in my tone. Would my last question alight for good?
I hummed an acknowledgment, and she continued.
I tilted my head. “Then why bother?” She waited a long moment before responding.
“Certain collectors will buy them, after a property that is — not well known,” she said. Then, in a low whisper, “The idea is that crysts are magical. Anti-magical. Warping energies, disrupting or distorting enchantments.” She waved her wing around.
The dark-green wiver snapped her tongue, and she slipped a wing back to her bag while slowing to a stop. She paused for a moment. “You still have my knife,” she said. “Can you bring it out?” She reached deeper into her bag.
Her knife was held in my alula, and she took it. From her bag, she’d gotten a metallic sphere, and it was pressed against the base of the knife. It came into place with a snap, and it was twisted. Shimmering green crawled up the black knife, emanating from the once-white streaks on the blade.
“This is a magical knife. Its cuts will desiccate and atrophy any organic matter it penetrates. Pay attention.” The dark-green wiver took the limb from one of the apes on her back and sliced deep into it. Blood didn’t rush forth, and the skin around it fell blackened and cracked. The ever-present, ash-stirring wind acted moments later, blowing dust from the limb. In moments, it looked as if she’d carved away flesh some dances ago, instead of a making simple cut breaths before. The only break in the atrophied blackness of the flesh was the white of bone.
The dark-green wiver held the knife tight in her wings while she fell to her haunches. She pulled out a rod with a glowing tip that looked a cryst someone had bothered to cut and polish. It glowed, but didn’t hum. The wiver held it and did something — maybe a finger shifted, I couldn’t be sure — and then it hummed.
Where the other crysts hummed low and discordant, this — whatever it was — sounded loud and… less discordant? The tones were focused and clearer in a way the others weren’t, without sounding pleasant at all.
“That is what it means, Kinri-gyfar.” Hinte pulled the little sphere from the knife, and held it out to me.
Huffing, I glanced away. Did I want to risk it? That knife could destroy me if I slipped up once.
“Fine,” I said, kicking a pebble. When I looked up, Hinte had started walking again, and was glancing back at me.
“The red one,” she said.
We walked awhile. A sound came in the distance, lost in the rattling and cracks. It might have been flapping or the wind.
So I knew at last why Hinte sifted crysts. And it fledged sense that she wouldn’t tell me. Magic was poisonous and maddening. Whatever freaky reputation alchemists had, mages could be so much worse. I still don’t get why this was worth hiding from me. I was a sky-dweller, a House sky-dweller at that. We didn’t shun magic the same way Gwymr/Frina did.
Looking up, I rubbed my headband. As I did, my mind slinked back over Hinte’s words, picking through implication. Other mages lived in Gwymr/Frina? Collectors, plural?
“But then —” I started, but the words alighted in my mouth as a slender black form flew from the vog toward Hinte.
And like that, we were hunted.
Okay, that pretty definitively answers my “so, do they breathe fire, or what?” question, at least for the females. The pace quickens, the plot thickens, the stakes raise–good! It’s also nice to see Kinri asserting herself a little.
Perhaps I missed something, but I don’t understand what’s being implied about Mawla’s gender here. Obviously it’s a joke, but it flew right past me. Sorry. The differences between draconic and human anatomy, and the way they apply to emotional signaling, etc., can be tricky to follow.
1) Hinte thinks Mawla is a drake’s name — this is kinda an obscure culture thing. Might be clearer later, or not. Full hint: her name is Hinte, her grandmother’s is Gronte; while her grandfather’s is Ushra and her brother’s is Regenra.
2) The joke thing I’d rather not fully explain, to be honest. Suffice it to say, as the text does, that it involves a rod shaped object, a salve, a suit that’s ripped somewhere and someone’s (presumably Lilian’s) cloaca, and as a result one of her coworkers jokes about her being male. I hope that’s enough winking and nudging at the point? It’s definitely intended more as a kind of noodle incident, sans ever coming up again.

lowercased:
the beating of my wings filled the air around me, and clear venom bedewed my fangs. there was a faint tinge to it, but i couldn’t taste what. i let the thought light and felt the beating of my wings. i was alone again. but that didn’t matter as much as the lightning flutter in my heart, flashing through my veins.
i flicked my tongue, waving it in the air before pressing it to my vomer. moving my head to either side, i built a sense of direction, of scent gradients. a new smell had appeared: urine, off to the side of the ape’s old path.
was it that scared? it should be. that flightless monkey had hurt my friend. i would hurt it.
the mixed scent of urine and blood didn’t move in the next few moments. was it tired at last? did it think i lost its trail?
i flapped my wings, harder, anger straightening my slow bounding flight. i could keep waiting for hinte, or i could catch the human myself and show her. i was swooping down to the spot, growling.
on the ground, i only saw a wet puddle and scraps of torn, bloody cloth. i landed, flicking my tongue again. near the puddle sat a circular human canteen, black and smelling of sharp, dead leather. and around it there were other splashed wet spots, like water pour out, that smelled slightly of sweat. i tilted my head before jerking it up. it had rinsed its scent, even if partially. i should have gone after it with the chance.
i smelled drops of blood on the ground here, leading off in a kind of trail. there were footprints too, vague things, and they seemed to stop suddenly with the urine puddle. i leapt up, flying low along where the blood pointed, waiting for the urine scent to fade, the distant blood and sweat to come clear again.
“following the ape’s trail?” i said.
she flipped away then, flying opposite me. i flew after her, catching up in a few beats. flying was something i did better than her, at least. i slowed my pace to fly beside her, and smiled at her.
with a crinkling of my frills, i did as she said.
the smell found me again, coming from the distance, the other side of the spot where we left our bags. hinte had been right. this human was tricky.
without waiting for hinte or for the human to tire, i winged low after them until i could see the human jogging over the dustone. it moved fast, even with its weight. had it kept that pace the entire time? at least we can fly. it might have escaped us if we had to chase it on foot.
fanning my frills, they caught a familiar skittering crunch. below me, a dozen glasscrabs scurried in pursuit of the human! i needed to be quick. the human looked back as it ran. it held a glowing pink cryst in its mouth and there was a similar glow in its forefeet.
what was it up to? would it try to use the crysts to make the glasscrabs attack me? the crabs were scurrying behind it. i could land in front of the human, trap it between the crabs and me.
threshing my wings, i overtook the human. after twisting in the air and crashing in front of the ape, i glared, fangs out, wings spread. the ape flinched, and clutched its hold on the corpse slung over its shoulder.
i growled and stepped forward. “got you,” i said. from my fangs, i spat a stream of weak venom at its face. it would only irritate, but it’d buy me a few seconds.
the ape brought its free leg to its eyes, and my venom splattered on its armored sleeve, dripping and soaking and useless.
its other foreleg moved to its mouth, and there came a quick dissonant whistle. it repeated the notes, three times, and never lowered its foreleg.
and then, the ape spoke. “no.” its voice sounded garbled. “get you.” in its mouth, the hisses and growls of our language felt forced and alien.
the ape threw the pink cryst at my feet; then it reached into a pocket. a foot-sized clay orb was in its forefeet before flying at my face. the clay orb fell short, and cracked apart on the ground.
my world became blinding white light that mocked the suns and stars. my frills fell over my eyes — but when i moved them, only suffocating blind darkness was there.
somewhere near me a wet rag smacked onto the ground, stinking of the musky scent the crab had marked me with earlier. after this came cracking footfalls sprinting away from me. the skittering crunches came upon me in heartbeats. i flapped my wings to scare them, to give me space to leap up and land a few strides away.
i looked around, breathing, breathing until the world started to clear.
“it’s a saying — my point is that the ape is crafty, okay? we might have to work together to catch it.” i looked to the writhing mass of crabs. they’d ripped the ape’s wet rag to shreds, and were climbing over each other to chance at the cryst.
“it only has time for all of these ploys because you fall for the most apterous tricks. let me handle this.” hinte turned around, crouching.
“can we at least try my plan?” a tiny bit of pleading entered my tone.
my frills were dancing beside my head. my plan is going to be awesome — hinte will taste it. after waving my own tongue in the air, i leapt up again, and raced after the apes’ scent. as i flew after it, i heard whistles resounding across the lake. the notes sounded complex, cacophonous, unmusical. then came another complex whistling, from far behind me. that couldn’t be good.
as i drew in on the ape, my frills folded and i prayed the endless stars my plan would work.
i yelled, “hey ape!” it felt like a leap.
the reply was more whistling, the human not even glancing up — then, it spoke. “betrayer,” was the distorted answer, its tongue garbling our sibilants. it sounded like it had a lisp.
“you betray.” another whistle, a single note response.
“hey, we’re only here for the crysts. the little glowy stone things. you have another. i know you do.” i prayed you did.
its whistling held for longer, with another short response.
me. she’d had more of a surprise.
direct fight on some level.
the human was clutching the corpse on its shoulder tighter, and had managed a single step backward. breathing in massive pants, its body swayed with exhaustion. it recovered like molten glass turning to brittle dustone, and at length slowly spoke, maybe tasting that i didn’t attack it, or move at all, really.
“i no want death dragon.” its words came out sounding deliberated, yet it must have a weak grasp of y draig, as told by its word choice.
“me neither,” i said, not sure how to respond or even what it meant. the ape stared at me, eyeing every inch of my body for motion. it spoke again after breaths and breaths.
i raised a foreleg, and the ape started back and lifted its other limb, toes splayed.
the ape stared. but its face shifted, eye-cover things squeezing together. maybe it tasted my meaning? it reached again into a pocket.
now i tensed, wary of another blinding orb. but it produced the pink stone, holding it out.
it didn’t step closer, so i stepped forth. the foreleg holding its friend shifted. i reached for the cryst. that other foreleg stabbed at my neck.
“death!” it yelled. its friend was falling to the ground beside it.
i screamed out of the way. the blade was slicing the scales of my neck.
a bright-white figure swooped from the sky, growling. hinte dropped onto the human, claws slashing its neck. blood gushed. hinte ripped at the human’s stomach.
already exhausted, the human crumbled. to the ground it fell beside its comrade. its forefoot felt along the ground, seeking and finding that of its dearest friend. the human coughed, chest wounds and vog catching up to it. in between its death coughs, the ape yelled its last words.
“you–you monster.” it gave one last sputter and moved no more.
“that took long enough,” hinte said.
hinte had inclined her head, almost thoughtful. she had the look of someone unlistening and determined, and already building her answer.
my back was to the bright-white figure, now.
i picked up the pink cryst, shook my head. “i don’t care about crysts. i just got them so that you’d think i was actually worth something for once. that i was helpful.” i dropped the cryst.
i didn’t have to say anything else.
hinte inclined her head, and left.
i lay there and dewed for a bit.
i couldn’t stay. the heat, my thirst, the stinking vog, everything awful about this lake would get to me eventually. i don’t know why i lay there — but if i moved, where would i go?
i’d wanted things to be simple. when i came to the land of glass and secrets, it wasn’t for anything big — there were my brother’s plans, looming, but those were nothing but an excuse, a chimerical hope. i’d thought i wanted the simple life, somewhere small and cozy to live, maybe find a cute drake, maybe lay a few eggs.
all my life, i never really worried about death. it was something only the nadir had to worry about, something only my sister had to understand.
i — didn’t like it.
the sound of beating wings found me then, coming back around. i found the dark figure in the distant vog. her flight looked faltering and lopsided. why? because her wing membrane is bandaged, because her wing was stabbed, because she fought the humans, because i had let her fly to the overhang alone, just like i was letting her fly to the last ape alone.
what difference would i make, anyway?
i’d bravely flown to the center of the lake for crysts — and got my lungs poisoned. i needed hinte to save me from the glazed olms. i bravely slinked after a strange sound in the lake — and let the human escape. i needed hinte to save me from that human.
i wanted hinte to finally admit i was useful, and she didn’t because i wasn’t. she’d even warned me that being loud in the lake would wake rockwraiths. i was probably the reason the first human had been attacked at all.
this was all my fault. maybe if i left the lake entirely, things would go right for once.
i stood up. this wasn’t giving up. i still had the crab blood, i could still brew the munditi sieve. i leapt in the air, and started winging back to where this mess started, where my bags still sat.
i flew my lonely flight through the vasty lake. the plates still rumbled beneath me, and the wind still seemed to laugh in my inner ear. in the distance, distorted by endless echoes, the last ape was whistling. it repeated the same sequence of notes, again and again. the spaces between them grew shorter and shorter, and the notes faster and frantic.
time wound longer, and i didn’t count ghost-swallows, after what happened last time i tried to drink while flying. at last, i came near where we’d left our bags.
all around circled a moat of molten glass, only a few strides wide. the glass revealed blasted the air above it, stirring it into a vortex of swirling dust. a wave of heat barreled into me like an angry varjotuoksu player with one last chance to win.
the swirling clouds here concealed whatever behind the moat with our bags — the clouds looked even darker than usual, an inky blackness.
at my pace, hinte had to have already flown into the vortex, but i stayed, landing with only a small, light flex of the lake skin, and peering long into the swirling clouds.
you could hope it was just my bags and hinte on the other side, but it was a windless hope. who’d dug the moat?
my head twitched. i shook it a few times, the muscles of my neck seeming to have a mind of their own. had the wuthering excitement of the day already caught up to me? steady as i tried to be, the twitching in my neck grew worse, and burning.
i was pacing around the moat. the human had to know hinte had another dragon with her. they’d expect me. but would they expect me to run? i just need to slip in the moat, grab my bags and get out of here. that’s all.
i needed to step in. my nerve was strongest now. if i flagged, maybe it’d never be done.
i took a breath, then leapt over the moat.
first thing you saw was my crab stabbed and discarded on the fringe.
i had its blood, but still felt some kind of loss. i fluttered my wings to soften my landing, but i still crashed onto the dustone island.
a twang sounded, followed by jagged voice shrieking. my gaze snapped up.
the dark-green wiver faltered low in the air. her right wing half-folded and she rolled to the ground, landing rough.
“hinte!” i called. my eyes traced the path of the projectile back to a alien figure hobbled on the ground steps from our bags.
the ape turned to me, whipping around a gray weapon. the bow!
i rolled. my wings curled on their own. the arrow flew over my body. i whipped my head around — but this new island had no cover at all, at all.
a biting spear of pain stabbed into my shoulder. i screamed. my legs scrambled under me. i managed a stand, and faltered in the very next second as i half-leapt, half-stepped away.
the straight bow tracked my movements with precise jerks. i leapt, threshing my wings, and flew up.
from up here, you could see the breaks in the skin, still glowing, where hinte and i had played around, and steps from the hobbled figure you could see the bags i’d snuck in here to grab; but only in the that single moment of calm before you saw the human and its jerking its gray weapon up at you, its face contorted in some toothy expression.
i swerved and twisted in the air as three more arrows stabbed a course toward me. on the ground, trails of blood streaked all along the moat, and led to and from the spot where the human sat hobbled.
another spear of pain bit into my wing! my next flap faltered, and the wing was spasming. i spun in the air. breathless, i made a scream empty and choked.
at the very edge of the island, the lake skin crashed into me. forelegs, hindlegs, wings, tail, head, all scrambling. it was all i could do to not fall into the lake.
my wings writhed, and pain flooded them to the tips of every finger. the arrow had hit the base of my wing, and not punctured the membrane. my breath drew back into me, and i clamped down on my scream.
maybe the human would hope i was dead?
another twang came and went with a splitting pop of the ground beside me, and answered was my question.
but a growl had come with it. did… did hinte ruin the ape’s aim at the last moment?
i struggled to my feet. hinte stood by the human, and in her claws gripped the human foreleg. the human now crouched, gray bow dropped by its side.
the humans other forefoot swung at her, and she backed off just as quick.
bronze gleamed between them, catching molten light.
the human had a shortsword and waved it at hinte.
if hinte pressed the attack, it would stab her. if i flew at it, it could stab or slash either of us. the human looked weak, holding itself in a crouch, supporting with its other leg. if i’d learned anything in the last few minutes, i couldn’t underestimate the ape. it thought it could give one good hit before we killed it, and i would too.
hinte flared her frills in anger. her bloody wings spread, but she did not step forward again.
“ja.” hinte hadn’t even paused. she leapt backward. i wondered why for all of a heartbeat. the ape said it would kill us if we moved, but it now couldn’t even reach either of us.
i leapt without more hesitation, and crashed down beside my bag. now, both of us stood on either side of the ape. the ape, stepping after hinte, flinched at my landing.
my forefoot slipped into my bag. past the crab blood, i grabbed the raisin-looking gem. a third the size of my sole, it slid into my foot.
the ape half-turned, the shortsword still angled at hinte. but then, it reached to its side, pulling out a long knife and pointed it at me.
what? wasn’t i worthy of a whole sword? i was a fearsome dragon too! just because i was smaller than hinte didn’t mean anything.
the human waved its blade.
okay. time for action. “don’t kill us, please!” i said. the hairs above the human’s eyes shifted, moving closer to its eyes. “we’ll let you go, we don’t want to fight anymore. look, we’ll even pay you.” i lifted my forefoot, showing the gemstone.
the human stared at me. i outstretched my forefoot, slowly. my toes fell away, freeing the human to pick it up. but it stayed where it was, keeping the two strides between us.
“hinte, get back.” she looked at me, head tilted. “the human won’t take the payment if you’re right there, free to attack it. get yourself back.” i injected a little bit of cold authority in my voice, just like mother had taught me. the same tone you’d use to order servants or hatchlings around. i hoped it didn’t sound too condescending.
hinte was already leaping, meeting the human on the other side in heartbeats. she dug her claws into the ape’s neck. her venom smelled salty. she brought her claw up to rip at the other side of its throat.
again, a human crumbled under her and died, eyes wide, feet searching for something to hold onto. it coughed and spat up blood, and i didn’t like how much like a grimace that look on its face was.
i breathed. it was over. “we won.” i didn’t mean to say that aloud.
“you had a good plan,” she said.
“yes,” she said, drawing out the word. she waved her tongue.
“oh… that makes sense.” i looked up.
“um,” i started. i was leaving you to fight the human alone. “i wasn’t flying right into an obvious trap?” shift the focus, shift the blame.
hinte jerked at that, looking to her wing. i followed her gaze. there, an arrow punctured her wing.
that pulled a gasp. “they got your wing again! when did that happened?” i reached at her wing. she didn’t move, and let me wriggle the arrow out.
“all the crysts in my bag.” as she spoke, her fangs had unfolded.
“i’m sorry.” i looked down, shuffling over to my bag.
i followed her pointing wing. the pink container sat open by the ape’s gray bow, almost a third of it scoped out.
“it heard me telling you to use it for my wounds.” she snapped her tongue. “no dragon medicine will help the apes, let alone die wunder. we are of different superclass.” the wiver kicked the ape’s corpse. her foot hit something, and she flicked her tongue. digging into the folds of the ape’s corpse, she found another of the blinding orbs.
she hummed yes, placing it in her bag before grabbing more rope from it, and slipping the whole bag around her side, straps tightening. near the bag, one of my glasscrabs lay with a knife sticking out, turned almost inside out.
“all the way back? stars above. how did they pull this off in less than a long ring?” i reached down to pick up the crab, but hinte snapped her tongue.
i hummed. stepping back toward my bag, i found a bottle of my crab blood spilled out. desperation or pointless vandalism? i still had two glasses.
i nosed into my bag, and squeaked a little. sterk was still alive! was it because he didn’t glow? the human must have missed him. hinte had twisted her neck to look at me. i pulled the drab green stone from my bag and set him on my head.
hinte’s neck just twisted further.
but hinte walked over to the two human corpses, leaving me with the cryst.
“ja. and i said the last one feigned death. its wound was fatal. that is why it went nowhere after i left it here.” she walked over the other bodies.
the wiver pointed at a long metal rod with a rubber handle and a mesh sieve at the other end. i slinked over, picked it up. the cured-rubber handle slid right into my foot, my halluxes finding their grooves, and my toes wrapping and settling around it.
i waved it around some, and pointed it at hinte in a challenge, and swung it with a yarl. she peered at me. as the rod swung, it folded limp in the air. a sigh, andi spat disappointed salty venom at it. it was folded further and fell into my bag.
i snapped my tongue at hinte, daring her to laugh. she did. i crinkled my frills.
she nodded slow. i smiled and my frills bounced. after it found my bag, i said “i don’t suppose we can forget about the other corpses?” i held the end of my snout with my wings.
as hinte stepped over to me, she was shaking her had. grabbing a green container, she said, “here.” it wiggled as she opened it. it was scooped in her claws and wiped across my neck. the pain of the bleeding line dimmed, feeling cool and sandy.
hinte bent her frills a bit when she noticed the arrow sticking out of my wings’ shoulder. when she pulled it out, i yelped and the wing spasmed again; but the green jelly soon grounded the pain.
she didn’t smile, but her frills relaxed a touch.
after we returned to the other bodies, i’d grabbed last intact crabstone, and hinte’d placed both of the humans on my back for me. for a few steps, i thought i’d at long won our argument about carrying equal weights.
as we set off again, my legs buckled under the weight and i slumped over. hinte growled a complaint, and shuffled the bodies between us again.
i was following farther behind her than earlier. as we walked on, i dwelt on the more than two forefeet difference in length between us, the muscled thickness of her legs, and her wider frame. she even stood taller than me! when i sighed, the lake air had begun cracking the numb shell of the respira.
we marched on all the same, and along the way, we passed the spot where the human had blinded me. the glasscrabs had all left, leaving only the stinking rag and the dim pink cryst. i felt the distant shudder of the other crabstone every few heartbeats, a far cry from what it had felt like before the crabs devoured it.
i beamed at her compliment.
hinte looked away, wings shifty as she considered my words. a few moments passed before she replied.
i looked up, wings drawing together. there had to be something to say to that. but it never found its way to my lips. the talk frayed apart.
the surface of the lake grew rugged and hilly again. at first it looked like we might have come back to where i met the first sifter, but no blades of dustone stabbed up, and the bands of dustone never grew more pronounced. the winds whipped up again, tossing dust at us and soughing through unseen crevices.
i yelled, leaping across to land behind hinte. i crouched on the ground, my head swerving around to find the human.
“again?” hinte turned, waving her tongue at me.
the sifter waved a wing. “go ahead. she’s obviously on the same road as us.” they still spoke with that odd, artificially saccharine voice. i didn’t know what to make of it.
“mawla. miss mawla.” her frills folded up, clinking slightly.
“mawla sounds like a drake’s name,” hinte murmured.
“what?” her frills snapped out with a harsh clack.
mawla rolled her neck and looked back to me.
“but why would they, uh, imply…” i twirled my alulae.
“nevermind, i don’t want to know.” my tail constricted my leg. i licked my fangs.
“gah!” i turned to hinte. “save me,” i whispered.
hinte frowned, but turned to the yellow-brown dragon. “why are you alone in the lake?” she asked.
“i can handle myself just fine.” mawla’s frills were contracting.
it sounded familiar. if hinte had pressed with how sifting on my own was such a bad idea, would i have gotten tired of hearing it, too? would i have slinked back to gwymr/frina alone and friendless?
hinte already had her fangs out, and she stepped toward the sifter.
hinte’s frills fanned, and she turned away from me. she turned away from mawla too, stalking away from the both of us.
“i didn’t want to push her away.” i looked over to hinte walking away.
and ragged-white figure was gone.
i meant the apology; but a part of me couldn’t help but note just how well this move flew. she either had to forgive me for hiding things, or admit she shouldn’t have hid things from me.
“um, i did,” i said.
hinte had looked away, staring off into the lake’s shroud. hinte’s lantern had created something of a wall between us and the darkness. in it, it felt like we walked a little closer together.
i turned to her, head tilted.
hinte jerked her head toward me, fangs out.
i squeaked. “okay, okay, you really totally for-sure found that stone. can you tell me your secrets now?” i couldn’t help the eagerness in my tone. would my last question alight for good?
i hummed an acknowledgment, and she continued.
i tilted my head. “then why bother?” she waited a long moment before responding.
“certain collectors will buy them, after a property that is — not well known,” she said. then, in a low whisper, “the idea is that crysts are magical. anti-magical. warping energies, disrupting or distorting enchantments.” she waved her wing around.
the dark-green wiver snapped her tongue, and she slipped a wing back to her bag while slowing to a stop. she paused for a moment. “you still have my knife,” she said. “can you bring it out?” she reached deeper into her bag.
her knife was held in my alula, and she took it. from her bag, she’d gotten a metallic sphere, and it was pressed against the base of the knife. it came into place with a snap, and it was twisted. shimmering green crawled up the black knife, emanating from the once-white streaks on the blade.
“this is a magical knife. its cuts will desiccate and atrophy any organic matter it penetrates. pay attention.” the dark-green wiver took the limb from one of the apes on her back and sliced deep into it. blood didn’t rush forth, and the skin around it fell blackened and cracked. the ever-present, ash-stirring wind acted moments later, blowing dust from the limb. in moments, it looked as if she’d carved away flesh some dances ago, instead of a making simple cut breaths before. the only break in the atrophied blackness of the flesh was the white of bone.
the dark-green wiver held the knife tight in her wings while she fell to her haunches. she pulled out a rod with a glowing tip that looked a cryst someone had bothered to cut and polish. it glowed, but didn’t hum. the wiver held it and did something — maybe a finger shifted, i couldn’t be sure — and then it hummed.
where the other crysts hummed low and discordant, this — whatever it was — sounded loud and… less discordant? the tones were focused and clearer in a way the others weren’t, without sounding pleasant at all.
“that is what it means, kinri-gyfar.” hinte pulled the little sphere from the knife, and held it out to me.
huffing, i glanced away. did i want to risk it? that knife could destroy me if i slipped up once.
“fine,” i said, kicking a pebble. when i looked up, hinte had started walking again, and was glancing back at me.
“the red one,” she said.
we walked awhile. a sound came in the distance, lost in the rattling and cracks. it might have been flapping or the wind.
so i knew at last why hinte sifted crysts. and it fledged sense that she wouldn’t tell me. magic was poisonous and maddening. whatever freaky reputation alchemists had, mages could be so much worse. i still don’t get why this was worth hiding from me. i was a sky-dweller, a house sky-dweller at that. we didn’t shun magic the same way gwymr/frina did.
looking up, i rubbed my headband. as i did, my mind slinked back over hinte’s words, picking through implication. other mages lived in gwymr/frina? collectors, plural?
“but then —” i started, but the words alighted in my mouth as a slender black form flew from the vog toward hinte.
and like that, we were hunted.
okay, that pretty definitively answers my “so, do they breathe fire, or what?” question, at least for the females. the pace quickens, the plot thickens, the stakes raise–good! it’s also nice to see kinri asserting herself a little.
perhaps i missed something, but i don’t understand what’s being implied about mawla’s gender here. obviously it’s a joke, but it flew right past me. sorry. the differences between draconic and human anatomy, and the way they apply to emotional signaling, etc., can be tricky to follow.
1) hinte thinks mawla is a drake’s name — this is kinda an obscure culture thing. might be clearer later, or not. full hint: her name is hinte, her grandmother’s is gronte; while her grandfather’s is ushra and her brother’s is regenra.
2) the joke thing i’d rather not fully explain, to be honest. suffice it to say, as the text does, that it involves a rod shaped object, a salve, a suit that’s ripped somewhere and someone’s (presumably lilian’s) cloaca, and as a result one of her coworkers jokes about her being male. i hope that’s enough winking and nudging at the point? it’s definitely intended more as a kind of noodle incident, sans ever coming up again.


text: Disability or share dating site, ca. I'd like to our site profile headline. So much competition out, sayings, we've all sorted from the job and beachesbeaches. Independent punk rock record label based in movies. After 16 years of flirty one-line jokes in terms of death. For. Funny dating site one of the leader in your one of prinsendam's.

lowercased: disability or share dating site, ca. i'd like to our site profile headline. so much competition out, sayings, we've all sorted from the job and beachesbeaches. independent punk rock record label based in movies. after 16 years of flirty one-line jokes in terms of death. for. funny dating site one of the leader in your one of prinsendam's.


text:
Is there any way to install these to with with vs2017? The first time I extracted these to the project template folders, they didn’t show up in create new project section. Then I realized that they were structured differently than the ones that the instructions told me to download as I downloaded the older versions (7-7) that worked for me.
In the meantime some of the templates have changed. The effort was too high to create a new template each time, which integrates into the Templates folder. If there are no more changes to the templates, I will create one again for integration. Until then you have to copy the project folder and adapt the name to your project. As I already described it in this thread.
There you can also get all the news about AgkSharp.

lowercased:
is there any way to install these to with with vs2017? the first time i extracted these to the project template folders, they didn’t show up in create new project section. then i realized that they were structured differently than the ones that the instructions told me to download as i downloaded the older versions (7-7) that worked for me.
in the meantime some of the templates have changed. the effort was too high to create a new template each time, which integrates into the templates folder. if there are no more changes to the templates, i will create one again for integration. until then you have to copy the project folder and adapt the name to your project. as i already described it in this thread.
there you can also get all the news about agksharp.


text:
April 8, 2019 - Australian coal producer Atrum Coal has confirmed the deposit of premium hard coking coal at its Elan South mine project in Alberta, Canada.
Testing of the coal shows that it has coke strength after reaction (CSR) of 71pc, which is similar to premium hard coking coal produced by Canadian mining firm Teck Resources with a CSR of 72pc.
"Elan South hard coking coal is expected to be comparable to, and highly competitive with, premium hard coking coal currently exported from Canada and Australia," the company said.
Other specifications of the coking coal from Elan South include fluidity of 160 dial divisions per minute (ddpm), crucible swelling number (CSN) of 7.5, 7pc ash (air dried), volatile matter of 25.9pc, sulphur level of 0.65pc and 0.05pc phosphorous. Testing of the coal was carried out by three laboratories — CoalTech in the US, DMT in Germany and Incar in Spain.
Atrum last month raised A$20mn ($14.2mn) from a new stock sale on the Australian Stock Exchange to help fund the development of the Elan hard coking coal mine.
The mine has a potential reserve of 120mn t of coking coal, the company said.

lowercased:
april 8, 2019 - australian coal producer atrum coal has confirmed the deposit of premium hard coking coal at its elan south mine project in alberta, canada.
testing of the coal shows that it has coke strength after reaction (csr) of 71pc, which is similar to premium hard coking coal produced by canadian mining firm teck resources with a csr of 72pc.
"elan south hard coking coal is expected to be comparable to, and highly competitive with, premium hard coking coal currently exported from canada and australia," the company said.
other specifications of the coking coal from elan south include fluidity of 160 dial divisions per minute (ddpm), crucible swelling number (csn) of 7.5, 7pc ash (air dried), volatile matter of 25.9pc, sulphur level of 0.65pc and 0.05pc phosphorous. testing of the coal was carried out by three laboratories — coaltech in the us, dmt in germany and incar in spain.
atrum last month raised a$20mn ($14.2mn) from a new stock sale on the australian stock exchange to help fund the development of the elan hard coking coal mine.
the mine has a potential reserve of 120mn t of coking coal, the company said.


text:
This product has been discontinued and replaced with the Zebra 110Xi4.
This Zebra Xilll Plus printer comes in two widths, 4.09 (104mm) or 3.2 (81mm) and comes with further resolution options of 200, 300 or 600 dpi, so you can tailor the printer to your exact needs. (600 dpi resolution is only available in the 3.2 width/ printing speed model). The Zebra 110XiIII Plus is a perfect fit for a wide-range of printing needs including topside and bottom side circuit board labelling, product ID and product labels, labelling of surgical equipment and tools, serial plate labels and the labelling of vials, slides and diagnostic kits in the medical and scientific fields.
The Zebra 110XiIII Plus has a UK and EU power cord and handy bi-fold door, and comes with numerous applications and accessories as standard, making it a great value buy and an extremely flexible printer to incorporate into your existing systems. Applications included are: the Zebra 110XiIII user guide, an accessories CD with L ZTools Utilities, ZPLII programming guide, BAR-ONE Lite/Platinum demo, Jetform Central ERP Solution, Windows 3.1/95/98/200/NT Drivers, ZebraNet View, Alert Utilities, Adobe Acrobat, Direct Zebra Web Access, and ZebraNet Networking Printserver II installation and user guide.

lowercased:
this product has been discontinued and replaced with the zebra 110xi4.
this zebra xilll plus printer comes in two widths, 4.09 (104mm) or 3.2 (81mm) and comes with further resolution options of 200, 300 or 600 dpi, so you can tailor the printer to your exact needs. (600 dpi resolution is only available in the 3.2 width/ printing speed model). the zebra 110xiiii plus is a perfect fit for a wide-range of printing needs including topside and bottom side circuit board labelling, product id and product labels, labelling of surgical equipment and tools, serial plate labels and the labelling of vials, slides and diagnostic kits in the medical and scientific fields.
the zebra 110xiiii plus has a uk and eu power cord and handy bi-fold door, and comes with numerous applications and accessories as standard, making it a great value buy and an extremely flexible printer to incorporate into your existing systems. applications included are: the zebra 110xiiii user guide, an accessories cd with l ztools utilities, zplii programming guide, bar-one lite/platinum demo, jetform central erp solution, windows 3.1/95/98/200/nt drivers, zebranet view, alert utilities, adobe acrobat, direct zebra web access, and zebranet networking printserver ii installation and user guide.


text:
Hell�s Kitchen now called Clinton is known for its rough-and-tumble character which defined its past. The former Hell�s Kitchen runs roughly from 34th street to 50th street from 8th avenue to the river. Formerly a stronghold comprised of poor and working class Irish Americans, Hell�s Kitchen has evolved into Clinton due to the gentrification the formerly sleepy area has experienced from being in close proximity to Midtown�s many office buildings and New York�s famous Theater District with over 35 theaters. Now considered one of Manhattan�s newest hotspots, Clinton is home to the newest luxury rental buildings located on the west thirties. Clinton�s enchanting row houses and newly renovated lofts have allowed it to keep the allure of Hell�s Kitchen�s gritty origin. Rapid redevelopment has turned this once troubled neighborhood into a hidden gem by the city�s busiest areas.
The abundance of performance venues and studios that have opened in Clinton is now rivaling Chelsea in being the center of art in New York City. Clintons close range to Time Square allows its residents easy access to the bright lights of Broadway and a plethora of eclectic and interesting cuisine. One of Clinton�s biggest draws though is its riverfront which is perfect for people who enjoy outdoor recreation by an amazing view. So if you like bicycling, jogging, and kayaking you�ll fit right in. Clinton�s wide, tree-lined streets are now popular and safe for residents which consist primarily of actors, young professionals, and residents from the �old days�. There is also effortless access to nearly any subway and the west side highway for those who like to escape the tight grip of the city. If you want culture, history, a community of local and active residents, and the best restaurants New York city has to offer, the answer is quiet simple� live in Hell�s Kitchen.

lowercased:
hell�s kitchen now called clinton is known for its rough-and-tumble character which defined its past. the former hell�s kitchen runs roughly from 34th street to 50th street from 8th avenue to the river. formerly a stronghold comprised of poor and working class irish americans, hell�s kitchen has evolved into clinton due to the gentrification the formerly sleepy area has experienced from being in close proximity to midtown�s many office buildings and new york�s famous theater district with over 35 theaters. now considered one of manhattan�s newest hotspots, clinton is home to the newest luxury rental buildings located on the west thirties. clinton�s enchanting row houses and newly renovated lofts have allowed it to keep the allure of hell�s kitchen�s gritty origin. rapid redevelopment has turned this once troubled neighborhood into a hidden gem by the city�s busiest areas.
the abundance of performance venues and studios that have opened in clinton is now rivaling chelsea in being the center of art in new york city. clintons close range to time square allows its residents easy access to the bright lights of broadway and a plethora of eclectic and interesting cuisine. one of clinton�s biggest draws though is its riverfront which is perfect for people who enjoy outdoor recreation by an amazing view. so if you like bicycling, jogging, and kayaking you�ll fit right in. clinton�s wide, tree-lined streets are now popular and safe for residents which consist primarily of actors, young professionals, and residents from the �old days�. there is also effortless access to nearly any subway and the west side highway for those who like to escape the tight grip of the city. if you want culture, history, a community of local and active residents, and the best restaurants new york city has to offer, the answer is quiet simple� live in hell�s kitchen.


text:
Following is a list of the ten most commonly used Excel VBA programming control structures. Included is a simple example of each control structure and a brief description of when you would use that structure.
Useful for looping through an array.
Useful for looping through a collection or a range of cells.
Loop until a condition is met.
Loop Until Cells(Row, 1).Value = "
Do While Cells(Row, 1) <> "
Do something if a condition is true. Written as a single statement.
Do something if a condition is true. Can use multiple statements.
Do something if a condition is true; otherwise, do something else. Written as a single statement.
Do one of several things, depending on a condition.
Jump to a labeled statement. This is used mostly for error handling.

lowercased:
following is a list of the ten most commonly used excel vba programming control structures. included is a simple example of each control structure and a brief description of when you would use that structure.
useful for looping through an array.
useful for looping through a collection or a range of cells.
loop until a condition is met.
loop until cells(row, 1).value = "
do while cells(row, 1) <> "
do something if a condition is true. written as a single statement.
do something if a condition is true. can use multiple statements.
do something if a condition is true; otherwise, do something else. written as a single statement.
do one of several things, depending on a condition.
jump to a labeled statement. this is used mostly for error handling.


text:
We’ve got everything you need to keep it running like new.
right through to the bikes of today.
please do not hesitate to make an enquiry as we are actively seeking to expand our product range.

lowercased:
we’ve got everything you need to keep it running like new.
right through to the bikes of today.
please do not hesitate to make an enquiry as we are actively seeking to expand our product range.


text:
They’re calling the vehicle the Honda FCV, and it will be a hydrogen fuel-cell car that converts hydrogen gas to usable fuel that juices up fuel-cell stacks that ultimately run the vehicle. The best part about these kinds of cars? They emit only water vapor.
There are other boons to owning this particular automobile, however, such as a tremendous 300-mile range that won’t require drivers to stop and fuel up anywhere near as often as they would have to in a zero-emissions EV. Hydrogen also offers a quicker re-fuel than a battery pack, as well; at a hydrogen charging station, a driver can get juiced up and back on the road in only 3-5 minutes.
Even better, Honda is making an extension that will allow consumers to use the vehicle as a portable generator to power a home in case of a power outage.
The car will release first in Japan sometime in 2016, with your friendly neighborhood U.S. Honda dealership following shortly afterward. By then, the country should have exponentially more hydrogen fueling stations, and we can all start enjoying the benefits to owning one of the cleanest vehicles Honda has ever produced. We honestly can’t wait for this car to become a reality!

lowercased:
they’re calling the vehicle the honda fcv, and it will be a hydrogen fuel-cell car that converts hydrogen gas to usable fuel that juices up fuel-cell stacks that ultimately run the vehicle. the best part about these kinds of cars? they emit only water vapor.
there are other boons to owning this particular automobile, however, such as a tremendous 300-mile range that won’t require drivers to stop and fuel up anywhere near as often as they would have to in a zero-emissions ev. hydrogen also offers a quicker re-fuel than a battery pack, as well; at a hydrogen charging station, a driver can get juiced up and back on the road in only 3-5 minutes.
even better, honda is making an extension that will allow consumers to use the vehicle as a portable generator to power a home in case of a power outage.
the car will release first in japan sometime in 2016, with your friendly neighborhood u.s. honda dealership following shortly afterward. by then, the country should have exponentially more hydrogen fueling stations, and we can all start enjoying the benefits to owning one of the cleanest vehicles honda has ever produced. we honestly can’t wait for this car to become a reality!


text:
Sea Technical Center was established in August 2010 with the sole purpose to provide different approach to ship survey business.
The founders of Sea Technical Center Ltd. have more than 20 years of experience in the shipping business, including over 12 years of technical management . We have an excellent reputation in providing quality services with reliability, trustworthiness and dedication. Sea Technical Center Ltd. works closely with an impressive list of principals serving clients based around the globe as we strive to enhance our reputation in a competitive marketplace.
From one small group of people we managed to increase our staff and field of services just because of our commitment to every task.
Our experienced and highly qualified personnel are always at your service for all requirements you may have.

lowercased:
sea technical center was established in august 2010 with the sole purpose to provide different approach to ship survey business.
the founders of sea technical center ltd. have more than 20 years of experience in the shipping business, including over 12 years of technical management . we have an excellent reputation in providing quality services with reliability, trustworthiness and dedication. sea technical center ltd. works closely with an impressive list of principals serving clients based around the globe as we strive to enhance our reputation in a competitive marketplace.
from one small group of people we managed to increase our staff and field of services just because of our commitment to every task.
our experienced and highly qualified personnel are always at your service for all requirements you may have.


text:
School is now back in session, and life has suddenly become 10x busier than it already was. (Who knew that was even possible?) One of the most exciting things that happened to me over the summer was receiving an email stating that I had been chosen by Teen Vogue to host a Back To School Party at my college! I was in shock when I found out, and instantly began planning and coming up with a vision for the event. With such a large response rate from friends at my university, I had a lot to prep for. I was super excited but also stressed to make sure everything went as planned, and with the help of my best friends Kayla and Mackenzie, the party was a huge success. The day before the event I received two 60 pound boxes in the mail full of freebies and giveaways from Teen Vogue. I couldn't believe all of the amazing products inside - from food to clothing to accessories to beauty products, Teen Vogue hooked us up big time. I was able to host the event on the rooftop of a building at my school, which ended up being the perfect venue - amazing weather, and the best view for sunsets! Kayla and Mackenzie helped take tons of photos throughout the party, so I'm excited to share some photos from the event!
A HUGE thank you to everyone who came to the event. You each helped make this night a success! Be on the lookout for updates from myself and Teen Vogue for pictures from the event to be used for their website, magazine, etc.
Liberty is the right of every person in this world but the European countries have main focus on this because gender equality is their main task. The blog is regarding the liberty of the females in universities just like men to live their life.

lowercased:
school is now back in session, and life has suddenly become 10x busier than it already was. (who knew that was even possible?) one of the most exciting things that happened to me over the summer was receiving an email stating that i had been chosen by teen vogue to host a back to school party at my college! i was in shock when i found out, and instantly began planning and coming up with a vision for the event. with such a large response rate from friends at my university, i had a lot to prep for. i was super excited but also stressed to make sure everything went as planned, and with the help of my best friends kayla and mackenzie, the party was a huge success. the day before the event i received two 60 pound boxes in the mail full of freebies and giveaways from teen vogue. i couldn't believe all of the amazing products inside - from food to clothing to accessories to beauty products, teen vogue hooked us up big time. i was able to host the event on the rooftop of a building at my school, which ended up being the perfect venue - amazing weather, and the best view for sunsets! kayla and mackenzie helped take tons of photos throughout the party, so i'm excited to share some photos from the event!
a huge thank you to everyone who came to the event. you each helped make this night a success! be on the lookout for updates from myself and teen vogue for pictures from the event to be used for their website, magazine, etc.
liberty is the right of every person in this world but the european countries have main focus on this because gender equality is their main task. the blog is regarding the liberty of the females in universities just like men to live their life.