Logs:Ellerey's Fears
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| RL Date: 6 November, 2015 |
| Who: Ellerey, Quinlys |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Ellerey is worried about Virisceth. Quinlys may or may not be reassuring. |
| Where: Dragon Infirmary, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 15, Month 3, Turn 39 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: A'rist/Mentions |
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| It might be dank and grey out today, but at least the cold of earliest Spring lends itself to bathing dragons inside. As such, the lightly-clad, former Bollian trader is found inside the dragon infirmary, working on scrubbing the latest of post-feeding gore (and old, sloughing skin) from Virisceth's dark hide in one of the large, heated pools. The feral little green doesn't seem to mind that her human sends her into the water to rinse, then calls Viri back to scrub her once again. It's a literal rinse and repeat for the fastidious woman. And whenever the protean little beast gets too enrapt by whatever else is taking place beyond her - like an injured dragon soaking her injury in the other pool - Ellerey's instantly on the ball, either coaxing or ordering her lifemate back to business. Perhaps unlike most of the other weyrlings, the tall woman still looks quite tired, the dark circles under her eyes prominent. It's not Quinlys' habit to supervise bathing, by now: as long as the weyrling dragons look to be in good health, she's disinclined to micromanage their daily upkeep. But one of the blues from Niahvth's clutch has pulled a muscle, and now that he has been dealt with, here she is, her exit taking her right past the big dragonhealing pool. She pauses, then, that blue-eyed gaze taking in both Virisceth and her rider. "How's it going?" she wonders, quietly, as she approaches. That (only slightly) older weyrling blue gets a long and steady look of what can only be termed as 'consideration' by Virisceth, the green rumbling an unappealing sort of gargle-scrap to him at some point. "No," Ellerey informs her lifemate firmly, the woman again applying the mental brakes to Viri, who winds up clicking her teeth together, and then leaning more firmly into the latest round of scrubbing as her eyes half-lid. Mmm-good. Given how her hands were both occupied in their task, Ellerey didn't drop a salute for the (likewise occupied) Quinlys, but now that the redhead is moving their way, addressing her directly, Elle pats one lathery hand mostly-dry on a pant leg, then tosses one off to the other woman before she returns to scrubbing quickly. Before Virisceth can do more than slowly open those outer eyelids some. "It's...going, ma'am," her rich alto notes pragmatically, brown eyes moving from Quinlys to Virisceth. "At least I'm not acquiring any more scars." Beat. "Yet." The small, silvery, thin ones on her hands are all healed, now, thanks to the gloves. "Good," says Quinlys, acknowledging Ellerey now with a low tip of her head; not a salute of her own, but certainly approving of the one she's been given. "It's not so long, now, before they'll get to start hunting for themselves, which will help. I find a lot of them settle down once there are actual, physical ways for them to express themselves and... use their energy." And their aggression, though the bluerider-- perhaps deliberately-- does not specify that. Though Virisceth's blue eyes half-lid again, there's no mistaking the way the predatory little green turns her head so that she can watch Quinlys...and continue to stare without much blinking...without a sound. A faint frown from Ellerey is soon followed by the opening of the woman's mouth in what was almost a response, but it instantly dies, followed by a wooden nod. Mostly to herself is mumbled, "That's what I'm afraid of." Though Elle's riposte does hold an edge of humor, there's just as much concern within her tone. Quinlys' gaze takes in Virisceth, though her expression is neutral for it; neutral and unyielding. "You're afraid of that?" she prompts Ellerey, without glancing that way. "Of her hunting?" "I a..." Ellerey stops herself, uses different words to respond to Quinlys. "I'm -concerned-." Does she need to explain why? Surely the Weyrlingmaster and her staff have noticed Virisceth's primal behaviors, personality. While Elle continues to scrub with more force, the greenling headbutts her human with enough force to cause the woman to stagger just a little at the water's edge, her hands flailing for balance for a moment. It's followed by a sound that somehow combines throaty bubbling and nasally-ticking croon together in a strange sound of humored apology, Viri offering her shorter neck to her human as a prop, if she needs such. A cool stare is given to her lifemate, but Elle declines the support, and soon takes up dragon-bathing, again. "Tell me what her sire...what -he- was like." She's heard a -lot- about Lythronath. Quinlys regards the interplay between Ellerey and her dragon levelly, expression impassive. "Lythronath didn't hurt people," she says. "Or other dragons. He liked-- likes-- hunting, and enjoys the gore far too much for most people's taste, but he's not a crazy killing thing, if that's what you mean. And neither is Virisceth. She'll probably take pleasure in it. She'll kill. They're supposed to kill; that's what they do. But they only kill beasts." Beat. "Or pillows. Lythronath did that once or twice." Ellerey listens to what Quinlys has to say with a doggedly fixed expression, her visual attention given completely to Virisceth - who's now arching her back into the scrubbing - though Elle's ears are mostly for the redhead. Carefully inquired, "Did he...push you? Any of the others? Test how far he could go?" Word of killing beasts and pillows is reason for Elle to wrinkle her nose a little, and sigh out, "She brings me tunnelsnakes." Like a cat would bring a dead mouse. After a few moments, the woman murmurs in tense and slightly shameful fashion, "I wonder if it'll progress to avians, felines..." Or more. "They're animals." Ones -not- to be hunted, if the weyrling's dark, vaguely angry look can silently state. "In his way," allows Quinlys, thoughtful. "But Lythronath..." she hesitates. "Lythronath is a simple dragon, all things said and done. It's not about testing limits, for him; it never was. He's still a dragon, though, and so is Virisceth. They do not hurt people, not intentionally. They belong to the greater whole, the Weyr, and because they can feel what other dragons and what you feel..." She breaks off, pausing a moment. "It won't progress like that. Once she has actually prey, that'll be her focus. Her outlet, if you like. Dragons kill to eat." "Please define 'simple' for me, ma'am..." Ellerey notes with continued, dark emphasis, though her upset isn't really focused on Quinlys. "She's not 'dumb.'" Scrub, frown. "Not a six-limbed genius, likie I've heard some other dragons can be, apparently. She's..." One particularly harsh scrub of brush to hide earns Elle a grumble and a 'bump' of Viriceth's closaed mouth to the weyrling's arm, and the woman jerks back instantly, staring dubiously at the green...who's soon back to lazing in the water. "That's why she doesn't... won't intentionally hurt me. I know." She's heard Staff's words of dragonkinds' bonds with humans and themselves before. Apparently, though, the former Trader still has some doubts. A quick look up to Quinlys has Elle muttering, "She doesn't -eat- the tunnelsnakes. When she was smaller, she'd slice them to ribbons with her claws, or gut them, then bring me as much as she could...like some fucking trophy." Not that Ellerey's unused to seeing food animals slaughtered, but -this- is utterly different to the Trader. "I'm not calling any of them dumb, Ellerey," says Quinlys, not sharply, but with emphasis. "Lythronath is not a deep thinker. He likes some things, he does not like other things, and that is how he defines his world. I don't know about Virisceth; I'm not making judgements on her, or no anyone. She's using the tunnelsnakes as an outlet." She's firm on this front; absolutely sure. "Once she's killing her own meals, she won't need that outlet." There's stiff little nods as Ellerey takes in what the experienced Weyrlingmaster has to offer, the woman biting the inside of her cheek some as unruly emotions surge...and Virisceth reacts by turning blue and red-flecked eyes on her lifemate, voicing that disturbing rumble again. A quick intake of breath from the human female sees her controlling herself quickly, then finally ordering Virisceth deeper into the pool to rinse off a final time. After a few moments, the green does so, though her long tail winds temporarily about Elle's waist to give it a small squeeze before departing. "Outlet." One hand reaches up to her forehead, rubs there firmly. "I could use one of those." Snort. "Try jogging," suggests Quinlys, easily. "Or spend some time in the workout room. It might help." Her gaze lingers on the green a few moments more, watching her, but then turns away. "I need to get back to the barracks. You'll be all right here?" A sudden surge of hope lights up Ellerey's features at Quinlys' word of the workout room, the weyrling having forgotten about it during her month-long 'servitude' to Virisceth. A faint half-smile twitches its way over her mouth, and Elle finds herself murmuring with quiet gratitude, "Thank you." Pause. "Jogging isn't...visceral enough." Sigh. "We'll be fine." It's a little long-suffering, but it's firm. What else can they be? |
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