Logs:Dinner Distractions
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| RL Date: 20 August, 2015 |
| Who: Alida, Minara, T'mic, Ilicaeth, Jorrth |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Blue dragons share a meal while their riders meet a Weyr resident they've never noticed before. T'mic is kind, while Alida...is less so. |
| Where: HRW: Feeding Grounds |
| When: Day 5, Month 8, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Sunny, clear, warm. |
| Mentions: Edyis/Mentions, Keysi/Mentions, Laine/Mentions, O'nahi/Mentions, Paz/Mentions, Rook/Mentions, Ysaera/Mentions, Z'kiel/Mentions |
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| Jorrth can hunt solo, he just normally doesn't prefer it. But there are times when the pens are oddly deserted, times when his hunger is a very real and present thing, times that he has no choice but to go it alone. This is why today the stampede is caused by Jorrth and Jorrth alone; why today he swoops low not to press the beasts towards a partner, but to land into one, body check that sends it sprawling, that is instantly followed up by a jump that lands him, crushing, on the poor herdbeast's skull. It's a quick death, though. And while the rest of the herd backs away and looks disapproving and terrified, Jorrth gathers up his supper, and takes to the air. T'mic is watching this whole thing, looking very serious. As serious as his lifemate was taking his lone hunt. « Nice work... » the usually-affable Ilicaeth comments from higher above Jorrth, the elder blue's baritone waiting to announce his presence and the watching of the weyrling below as he circles from far enough above to have his passing shadow something that won't instantly re-panic the slowly subsiding herd. The gritty blue's own eyes wheel a hungry red, but he's patient and polite enough in waiting for Jorrth to find his own place to eat before he angles lower, lower...working to keep his shadow cast on the far side of the pen, where the wherries and herdbeasts are *not*. Not much after Ilicaeth's mental greeting, his rider exits out of the caverns, ambles at her own pace towards the Pens. There's not much of greetings for any others she passes along the way - except for some grunts or bobs of her damp, unbraided head - the quiet blonde still managing to remain schtum as she offers a 'mere' nod for T'mic once she reaches the fence. The younger, bigger blue is off to the side enough, but hops his beast a bit more, just to be sure he's out of Ilicaeth's way. « I was too hungry to wait, » Jorrth says by way of explanation, though he's distracted just now, by the flesh he's tearing off that carcass, and doesn't think to explain further. He only watches the older blue's hunt insofar as staying out of his way might require. He eats quickly, but not overly quickly. Maybe T'mic still reminds him not to, after a full turn. T'mic himself, wearing the new knot of a Snowdrift rider, turns to consider Alida back. He recognises her, surely. Maybe he even knows enough about her to not try and make small talk just yet. 'Cause he doesn't. Just... glances back now and then. « Hunger waits fer no dragon...or stomach. » Ilicaeth notes with his characteristic geniality, not hurrying the younger blue in the least. « If yer interested, we c'n hunt down our next t'gether... » Since one beast is very rarely enough to fill up an adult dragon. The communication line is soon enough shut down, however, as the blocky blue finds his choice down below, keen eyes taking in not only the slightly lame, but younger bull, but where everything and 'one is in relation to himself, and the general 'mood' of the massed herd. GIve Ilicaeth another 20 seconds, and he's not only driven the herd in the direction he wants, but even utilizes the terrain beneath the stampeding beasts, cutting out a few of them - his chosen one, too - and moving them into a dip in the ground with a flick of his long tail...much like a whip. As the lame beast stumbles, it slowlys instantly, the half-handful of others around it darting in all directions to evade swooping Ilicaeth...lots of screams and bleats of fear tainting the air. Snicker-snack; it's over in an instant: unsheathed front claws of copper coloration reaching out to grab and pierce flesh, ending the bull's terro-filled lowing in a second. Ilicaeth isn't a cruel hunter, much like Jorrth is not. And Alida? She simply watches with hand-shaded eyes intent on her lifemate's motions, something feral hinted at in the eager little lean of her body towards the fence, in the slightly sharky hint of a grin touching her features. She too looks hungry. When her partner's quick pounce comes, there's a faint shiver from the woman standing beside quiet T'mic - her fair skin seen to goosebump at bare forearms - her green gaze then slowly shifting from the feeding over towards the newly-minted rider, once more. This time, she takes in that Snowdrift patch and knot, and finally dredges up a throaty, "Congratulations." Both blues are eating now, Jorrth farther along than is Ilicaeth, having been the one to hunt first. His beast's nearly from the waist up, now. Except for the bones. Those are still there, and not all still attached to the main skeleton. « That sounds good, » comes quickly in answer to Ilicaeth's offer for the next hunt. Again, he gives nothing more. Again, he's busy with the whole eating business. T'mic had one of those side-glances just moments before Alida has spoken, where they both lean against the fence. It gives him almost the impression of shaking his head, when he looks back. "Oh." The grin. "Thanks." Ilicaeth only chuffs his agreement with Jorrth, the older blue as intent on getting himself fed as the other dragon is. Hungry! His own meal is had on the opposite side of the pen, chunks and innards stripped efficiently from the carcass of the bull by sharp teeth, while Alida nods to T'mic's thanks. She almost seems about to slip back into silence, but something has her commenting low while eyeing both blues, "Y'look pleased." Is he? Minara comes into view at some point, talking quietly to what appear to be Herders of some description, by their knots. Whatever their conversation, the crafters break away when they spy feeding going on in the pens, but Min continues onward, curiously watching the dragons as she rolls up a piece of hide and tucks it into the back pocket of her trousers. Uninvited, she stops next to the fence near the riders, casually leaning as she watches first one, then the other. Then her gaze sweeps wider, toward wherever the rest of the herd congregated after the most recent kill until the riders come into view enough for her to offer them a polite nod of greeting. "Sure," T'mic shrugs. "Snowdrift was one of the ones we'd been sort of thinking about. Jorrth's really good with sweeps and stuff, and they do search and rescue, and we're gonna get to learn all that..." His eyes move a bit, casting around for more to offer, but in the end, the big bluerider just shrugs his shoulders. "So sure." Jorrth has started licking a leg bone. His tongue is massive. Movement draws his attention, and Minara gets a little greeting sort of smile, complete with his leaning back from the fence, and then pulling himself forward again, hands on the railing. "Glacier... you guys didn't take any of the clutch, huh?" Back to Alida, of course. Alida is often alert to some degree or another, and so when the motion of Minara's nearing is seen, cool green eyes shift out to the other female, then slowly move back to T'mic. "Good. Nice ta get whatcha' aimed for..." the blonde's mile-a minute, hard-accented alto murmurs to the other bluerider. As Ilicaeth quickly-enough strips all edible parts - aside from hooves and bone - from his bull carcass, her gaze returns to the draconic feasting taking place before she finally comments, "Nope. Happens ta all Wings, some time 'r another." Shrug. "My class, Glacier got two 'r three uv' us." There's no mention made of how she's still (unhappily) stationed in Taiga, right now. For the now-arriving Minara, there's a long and inscrutable study, plus a grunt and nod of greeting. Minara doesn't outwardly appear to be eavesdropping, but she probably can't help but hear in this vicinity. Her nose wrinkles only at one point when one of the dragons pulls something away from a bone, but she doesn't stop watching. She does pipe up, however, asking the two without quite turning in their direction, "So you don't choose? You're assigned or something?" She spares them a glance then, looking and sounding genuinely curious. "Sorry. Still learning the Weyr ropes when it comes to rider things." T'mic nods, enthusiastically this time, at Alida's mention of several of them in Glacier - from her clutch. "Yeah, ours went sort of like that. Bunch of us in Snowdrift and Polaris, anyway. A few went just on their own otherwise, but... for them, it makes sense." Approval is evident in his tone, for all that really, full wingleaders don't need a junior rider's approval. Like, at all. He swings his head back to Minara, and leans back a little from the fence again. "Yeah, wingleaders watch, and we shadow with some of 'em, and then they pick. Figure where you'll fit, and go with it." Jorrth is onto the other leg. So good. Alida lets T'mic answer Minara's inquiry about Wings, the reserved blonde woman continuing to watch the blues polish off their first meals while occasionally glancing over at the other two humans nearby. While Ilicaeth's bloody muzzle rummages around for the delicious tripe inside the half-hollowed out carcass, his rider finally notes back to T'mic, "Whadda'ya think about the other assignments?" Minara nods in thanks for the information and murmurs something that is unintelligible but sounds appreciative. Then she crosses her arms across the top of the fence and just goes back to watching the dragons eat, or the still-living herdbeasts mill about over there, somewhere. T'mic just dips his head back, acknowledgement of that thanks-ish. His attention's with Alida again, soon enough. "Dunno. Guess I could see reasons that wingleader's would want to keep Rook and O'nahi and Ysaera together... but reasons not to, too? Think it's probably good, having the bunch of us together in Snowdrift, for who they are. Little surprised Keysi went to Savannah. Would've pinned her for Avalanche or one of the strict, traditional ones. But it's good. Not surprised for Z'kiel. Or Paz, really. Or Laine. Not that it matters." Minara's not forgotten; he turns back to her, asks, "How long have you been here, then?" "Guess there's always gotta be at least one surprise in any assignment..." Alida notes casually to T'mic after he gives his take on what former-weyrlings went to what Wing, her green eyes showing hints of curiosity within now and again as familiar names are spoken. When the more outgoing young man shifts the conversation back to Minara, the blonde woman lets her gaze slip back to the newbie again, 'lida silently taking in how she responds. It's only after they're all done speaking about Minara that the bluie returns her gaze to T'mic to note thoughtfully, "What about Edyis' placement?" Hasn't she heard, yet? Minara's head moves once or twice when familiar, or semi-familiar names are mentioned. It's not until she's addressed that she turns back to the riders, when T'mic's question makes her pause in thought. "Mmmm, about three Turns and... months." She stops, grinning. "For a clerk, I should probably be more precise," she adds in a wry, self-deprecating tone. "Really, I just haven't thought about it lately." But then, yes, she is done talking about herself, and switches to wrapping her hands around the top of the fence, leaning back in a mild stretch. "Faranth," says T'mic, eyes going a bit wider, "that's longer than me." It's to Jorrth that he looks next, only once Minara seems to have finished, although there was a telling almost-dart of his eyes before, heralding the switch. "Edyis?" A quick glance to Alida. "She and Akluseth are with us." Jorrthwards once more. "In Snowdrift." That blue looks back to his rider, even while he gets back to his feet, gets set, and gives his wings and head a shake with his tail thrashing out behind him. "You stay buried in yer work, 'r somethin'?" Alida inquires a little blandly of Minara. "Never seen ya before." The Weyr *is* a large place, of course. Over her shoulder to T'mic is clipped off, "Meant what'd you think uv' her bein' *assigned* ta Snowdrift." Ilicaeth finishes up his own meal not long after Jorrth, the granite-like elder blue burping softly (for a dragon, anyway), licking away some of the gore from between his claws while his buddy over there stretches, then gathering himself suddenly for a massive spring skyward again. « You got a preference, Jorrth? » On how they hunt. Minara narrows her eyes at Alida for a second, then slowly straightens from the fence. "Which is the be-all and end-all of my residency? I can take a hint," she says in a dry voice, stepping away from the fence long enough to execute a perfect little curtsey, complete with imaginary skirt. "Enjoy the lovely day," she adds, gaze cutting to T'mic a moment when she straightens, adding a gesture that isn't nearly as perfect a salute, but the motion is there. She then turns from riders and dragons, plucking the rolled hide from her pocket as she returns toward the main part of the Weyr, quick steps soon taking her out of sight. "I'm sure she didn't mean-" but Minara has left, and it leaves T'mic looking for all the world like someone has kicked his puppy. Or like he is the puppy. The expression lessens only long enough for him to give what borders on a reproachful look to Alida, before he crosses his forearms over the fence and rests his chin on them, slumped over. Jorrth rumbles at the resident as she leaves, for whatever good it will do. "I think... I don't know much about Snowdrift right now, not really. But it seems like Mielline's got high expectations, and that should do them good, if they can meet them. And Akluseth and Jorrth," he can't let go of the Minara thing, looking back in her direction when he finishes, "work well together, so there's that." Alida takes the departing Minara all in stride, the blonde merely shrugging and returning her gaze to the two blue dragons. Puppy-esque T'mic and his reproachful look get nothing but a small eyeroll, the blonde continuing to listen to the other bluie until he mentions Ak and Jorrth working well together. Finally, she has to observe around a faint half-smirk, "Heard that Jorrth...an' T'mic work well with just about everyone." Beat. "Hope you two 're not pushovers." It's tough to tell if the often-remote woman is needling him, or just stating the obvious with a side of darker humor. T'mic is still not content, no matter how unaffected Alida may act. Or, be. But he does nod a little, while Jorrth starts observing the herd. It's not a long wait before he picks, « That one. » That one, over there. The medium sized one. "Yeah, guess so. It's not hard, though, if you just listen to people. Problem is, most people won't." It's not accusation in his eyes, but when he looks to Alida, he does look just a little bit longer than might be called for. There's non-verbal acknowledgement from Ilicaeth as Jorrth picks out their target, the elder dragon falling into the natural role of giving his hunting buddy some classic guard moves on how they both can act in unison while doing seperate maneuvers in the air. Ilicaeth will lie in wait after a feint that should send the herd to the left, letting Jorrth drive them on straight into his ambush. Glee! Food! And food with *strategy*, too. As for Alida, *she* simply continues to look directly into T'mic's eyes until he's finished, then responding with a hint of latent asperity and much more self-confidence. "Everybody's different. Do *I* tell ya you should be able ta track down a killer, then stand toe-ta-toe with 'im when 'e pulls a knife on ya and tries ta cut out'cher heart?" She doesn't sound accusatory or angry, but there's *definitely* a point to be made, and Alida's not shirking her 'duty.' "Everybody's got a special 'talent' 'r two, T'mic. Yers is bein' a leader that people enjoy followin', a guy that others enjoy bein' around. *Mine* is bein' a watchdog: watchin' out fer the whers an' wild cats, protectin' others from the shit they can't be bothered to 'r don't know how ta save themselves from." Jorrth is familiar with this; it's the sort of thing he orchestrates himself, most hunts, when his siblings are by his side. He drives forth, all that bulk on the wing, and apparently terrifying. T'mic listens to Alida, actively, eyes on her. Listening is what he does. But he doesn't smile, not this time. And, softly, when she's finished, he murmurs, "And from Weyr residents?" He turns back then, to watch Jorrth's hunt. "My grandma would've said something about how guard hdogs don't growl at the ones they're guarding or something. Probably." Splendid! Then the two blues execute their hunt quite well, Ilicaeth letting the bigger blue terrifying the beasts into a near-blind, paniced run forward...while he waits above and just beyond the fence...his eyes on their prize near the middle of the mob of animals. SURPRIIIISE! There's a sudden swoop from above by the somewhat more maneuverable dragon that sends the herb splitting down its middle and peeling off to each side...thus exposing 'the one' at its center. Trying to make up its freaked-out mind which way to go, the beast only winds up being shoved into the ground by Ilicaeth's weight, it's neck and back snapped under the blue's forefeet. Success! As for Alida, she's merely shaking her head - a faint hint of a knowing smile touching her mouth, green eyes full of a certain odd kind of knowledge. "She chose ta take it how she chose. I merely asked 'er a question." As for growling, "If I'm growlin'...believe me, y'll *know*." Grin. "*That* was simply a guard wonderin' about somethin' they ain't figured out, yet." Truth. No matter, she's already worn her 'welcome' and her own tolerance limit thin, so the blonde winds up merely tossing off a very lackadaisical kind-of salute to the new Wingrider, and pivoting about to stroll off towards the Lake. Ilicaeth continues to take down game in tandem with Jorrth until their appetites are both satisfied. "Talking always goes two ways," says T'mic, though it's softer still, not asking for argument, not really. But when he looks out to Jorrth as Alida leaves, it's thoughtful. And Jorrth will be quite mindful of T'mic, and whatever conversation they're having, even while they're eating. |
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