Serapheth's rising must have left something like a pheromone in the air. Other females were showing their glow, coming into estrus one after the other. This would not be the first day when a shimmering mass of wings would take to the skies after bloodying their maws, nor would it be the final one. Greens and garnets screeched their challenges, males of all sorts became their chasers.
Sh'ggy was aware of Scrappith's whirling inattentiveness and sudden irritation. He initially brushed it off as rumbling irritation from the wher encounter that was still something that sat heavily on the edge of his consciousness - and the lack of resolution that had been presented. But as the days progressed, the garnet's fighting anger became increasingly unbearable. They were butting heads more and more often and Sh'ggy was having to shut off his mind from the garnet entirely for hours on end unless something urgent came up.
He was enjoying his favorite past-time with Scoob in the dining hall - ransacking provisions and forming massive meals, of course. In the discourse of digestion, his brown fire-lizard's head perked to the side and Sh'ggy dared a peak into his dragon's mind.
The firestorm that awaited him scorched him from the brainstem up. "Like, zoinks!"
Scrappith didn't alarm Sh'ggy of the events, and he didn't need to. Not like it was any of his business anyhow. The garnet was suddenly in the killing fields, mauling beast after beast with reckless vigor and draining their blood as a starved vampire - not needing to be told because at least Scrappith paid attention to the weyrling lessons, unlike somebody else he knew!
Eyes wheeling crimson, the male-identifying garnet lapped a green tongue against his jowels and burst into the air, screaming for the fireheights in a flurry of anger and need. C'mon you lazy louts! I am rising! Do you mean to tell me not a single one of you has the nerve to follow?!