Disclaimer: Every idea found in this story is owned by Anne McCaffery.
"It takes the length of three coughs to go between," the Weyrlingmaster told us, the Weyrlings from Ramoth's latest clutch. Some riders prefer to count the amount of time they spend between with part of their favorite ballad or something similar.
The Weyrlingmaster chosen me, rider of green Kiranth, to me the first to attempt to go between to Benden Hold, from the Star Stones. I decided that I would use my favorite line from the Ballad of Moreta's Ride, "black, blacker, blackest."
Kiranth and I hovered above the Star Stones. I was sweating from excitement and nervousness. 'It will be fine,' Kiranth reassured me. I gave Kiranth the signal to go between.
One moment we were hovering above the Star Stones on a hot summer day, the next we were between. The few records that I had read had described between as an utter sensory depravation. Words could not do between justice. There was an incredible sensation of nothingness which was both terrifying and exhilarating at the same time. Suddenly, Kiranth and I burst out into a hot, sunny day at Benden Hold. Never before had Benden Hold looked so beautiful as it did that hot summer morning.
From below, Kiranth and I could hear the faint sounds of cheering. 'Lets go down and celebrate,' I thought to Kiranth. She sent back a picture of herself sunning in the sun on the sun warmed cliff beside the Hold. Later, as the sun was sinking below the horizon, the graceful shape of Kiranth rose up in the air and blinked out in midair, going between to the Star Stones, back to their Weyr.