Logs:How You Slice It
| |
|---|
| |
| RL Date: 26 October, 2015 |
| Who: Jocelyn, Silva |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Two weyrlings chop meat for their dragons. Everyone survives. |
| Where: Weyrling Barracks, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 10, Month 2, Turn 39 (Interval 10) |
  |
| Feeding, bathing, oiling; these things have become routine for the new weyrlings as the days begin to add up to their first week together. Buckets of pre-cut meat are becoming a distant thing of the past, as the newest riders are now tasked with carving their own lifemates' meals from supplied carcasses. Early evening finds several pairs ready for another meal, clustering around the beast of their choice with knives available for their human halves. Jocelyn's expression is grim as she digs into the flesh to begin chopping pieces suitable for a small dragon, even if Aidavanth waits eagerly nearby, happy to share with her fellows how good it all smells. It's so close. And you know who is super sad about those pre-done chunks being gone? That's right, Silva. Because she's now learning that everyone was 100% honest with her. But it's okay, because she's come up with some life hacks. Like an apron that covers her from side to side (seriously, un attractive) and gloves. She cuts like the animal might come alive and bite her though, realllllyyyy slow. It's probably good that Zaisyreth is the most laid back and undemanding dragon of all time. Aidavanth radiates her appreciation as Jocelyn begins presenting her with appropriately-sized bites for safe consumption, considerately shuffling closer so that there's room next to them for another pair to begin the same ritual. Her partner, meanwhile, casts a sidelong glance at Silva between handing off another piece, eyebrows hiking upward for the teenager's attire. "You do know that it can't harm you, " she says evenly, turning to cut more off from this beast's flank. Maybe that's her way of trying to say 'it's going to be okay.' "Well duh, it's dead." Silva hasn't gained any in personality the last few days, even if she is unfailingly nice to Zaisyreth. Like, sugary sweet. And the poor creature would probably be wearing bows if she had access to the fabric. Her tiny cuts don't increase in size though. At least they're... really exact. "It's just, like, ew. And ew." "And he needs you to do this for him, " Jocelyn replies, accumulating enough cuts to take two full handfuls off to the side with Aidavanth. Someone takes her place within a few minutes, working to sate their own lifemate. As she works on finishing feeding the little gold, another look travels over apron-bedecked Silva, brow creasing. "You love him, don't you." It's matter-of-fact, neither a question nor with bite. To Zaisyreth, Aidavanth's predominant thought is one of satisfaction as she savors her meal, but she isn't so preoccupied with its consumption that she can't also extend a cheerful greeting to him, a warm 'hello' that's more feeling than speech. That scowl replaces any hint of a smile that might be there as Silva stabs downward with more force. "I know." Perhaps... there have been more than a few people that have said this to Silva in the last few days. "And I'm doing it. He's not complaining!" Zaisyreth is all curled around on on the floor waiting patient encarnate. Her matter-of-fact statement catches Silva off guard though, and she's looking downwards at his multi-hued hide. "He's really pretty." Swirling prarie meets her thought, the bright grasses waving gently in the sunlight. Only a hint of a shadow lingers there, near the ground where the plants seek nuture from below. Hunger, but the grass is bright none the less. He's more vocal, voice that of a breeze through the grasses. « It is all well. » (To Aidavanth from Zaisyreth) It takes Jocelyn some minutes more to finish with Aidavanth, whose rate of eating gradually slows and draws to a pleased stop. Neutrally, "His patience is remarkable." Her gaze falls to the pale blue in question, studying his coloration in the wake of Silva's pronouncement. "He is pretty, " she agrees, taking a step closer so that she can better look him over - or maybe that's really a glance intended for her fellow weyrling's cutting technique. To Zaisyreth, Aidavanth gives an experimental, little exhale into that grass, that breeze. « I don't know if I could be as patient as you, » she confides, mirroring Jocelyn's observation. « She does realize that getting it done faster will be good for you both, doesn't she? » He'll be fed, and she won't have to tackle that task again until the next feeding. It's really terrible cutting technique. There is probably an easier way, but not how Silva is holding that knife right now, like she's trying to stab something versus cut through it. "He's perfect," Silva replies, like of course it is that way. How else could it be? She finally manages to carve off a handsized chunk and hands it down to her blue. As quick as he downs it, he must be starving. Grasses dance under the introduction of the new wind. The introduction of that food from Silva does even more, the grass seeming to brighten in luster. « It's okay. » Patient love radiates from Zaisyreth, « I can wait. She won't let me starve. It just takes a while. » (To Aidavanth from Zaisyreth) There's a furrow that appears in Jocelyn's brow as she watches those stabbing movements, a frown that deepens as Zaisyreth all but inhales that first, chopped bite. "Don't - " she begins sharply, but swallows the rest of what may have followed to begin anew. More evenly, "It's harder when you stab like that. Use a carving motion, " and she mimes the movement with an empty hand. "It'll go by more quickly that way." And isn't that what Silva wants, shorter durations of time with her (gloved) hands squishing through raw meat? To Zaisyreth, Aidavanth's oh please is present in a little huff that isn't wholly unlike a mannerism of Jocelyn's. She'll have to be forgiven for her dubious observation as that first bite goes down. Dryly, « Is she planning on going at this rate until you're big enough to feed yourself? » Silva's hackles go right up when the sharp tone begins- as she is all familiar with that disapproving tone. She's ready to retort with her own words, but Jocelyn saves it by giving advice... and hitting Silva's motivation spot on. Too proud to admit it though, Silva rolls her eyes and lets out a loud huff, like Jocelyn is just so' annoying. But she does change her grip on the knife to match what Jocelyn mimed, and the cutting does go better. "Whatever~" She can't just not give the attitude. To Aidavanth, Zaisyreth projects « She doesn't know any better. See! » Complete optimism underlays Zaisyreth's words, and faith in Silva's ability to learn and do better. That sunlight brightens cheerfuly against the grasses, « She already cuts more. » A break in his thoughts as Silva delivers another chunk of meat and he inhales it. « Has yours been learning? » Jocelyn may be so annoying, but she's also annoyed, judging by how her mouth presses into a thin line, how her arms fold across her chest. "You're welcome, " the redhead says pointedly, turning to scoop up the usual bathing implements. Her expression softens a little as she lingers a moment to watch Zaisyreth's feeding continue, even if her stride to the water vats to begin Aidavanth's bath carries all of her usual briskness, small dragon in tow. Silva grumbles a little bit under her breath at Jocelyn's pointed words, but when the newly made goldling weyrling is a few steps away, Silva finally stops in her cutting just long enough for a brief and terse, "Thanks," before she's back to cutting food for Zaisyreth. No more words, or a hint of what is actually going on in the girl's brain from behind. Zaisyreth gives more away as he leaves off that last chunk Silva is offering to him so that he can sit upwards on his back legs and rub his headknobs against Silva's chest. To Zaisyreth, Aidavanth projects « She does cut more, yes, » and there's a pleased warmth for her blue sibling, that he (hopefully) won't be waiting quite as long now to finish his meals. « Jocelyn says they should have learned something before. » 'Before' is conveyed with a sense of blankness before she substitutes a flash of memory from her partner; before they bonded, there was also meat, and some chopping. But for now, her attention is drawn outward with the promise of a bath, so she withdraws gently with a, « Good eating, Zaisyreth. » That blankness gets met with confusion from the blue, a flickering of the sunlight above causing the grasses to pull in for a moment. « She » Silva « does not talk about before. Only now matters. » Just as he doesn't look backward, there is no concept of tomorrow either. Just living in the moment. « Be well! » The well wishing comes off full of brightness, any confusion banished away. (To Aidavanth from Zaisyreth) |
Leave A Comment