((Off at the end of the weyrbowl... *is late*))

The rain had ceased to bother A'non anymore. In the past few days, the foul weather had caused A'non's foul mood to return. Despite finding a friend for the first time he had arrived at Aerten, A'non had fallen into a deep depression--which was a regular occurrence--and felt too numb to even notice the rain. That was why he was outside, leaning against the wall of the weyrbowl as he watched the flooded Dunfalin flow. Because of the rains, the river was unusually high and posed a threat to those who ventured near. Even so, A'non stood a few paces from the edge of it, staring off into the distance.

When the first of the tremors rumbled through the ground, A'non felt himself fall to the ground, which had been too muddy for him to gain purchase and brace himself. The lad was lucky, though, for he had managed to keep himself from tumbling into the Dunfalin. But as he had slid closer to the precarious waters, his heart had begun to pound with fear. It was obvious he was in a dangerous situation and had to get away from the waters edge. Thinking quickly, he got to his hands and knees and began crawling away.

This was when the second shake coursed through the weyr. The ground turned to liquid beneath his hands and knees and his limbs flew out from beneath him. The lad slipped and began sliding towards the river. Panic setting in now, the copper rider shouted and tried to scramble to his feet. However, the bank was simply too muddy and his movements were too sudden. He fell backwards and tumbled down the embankment, straight into the muddy brown waters. He screamed but heard nothing, for the river's current had whisked him beneath the surface. There was no hope in fighting it.

A piercing keen tore through the air of the weyr.

((it fails, and I dont care. A'non needed to die. Like woah.))