Logs:The Teamwork in the Take-Down
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| RL Date: 11 November, 2015 |
| Who: Jocelyn, Lys, Quinlys, Aidavanth, Evyth, Olveraeth |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Quinlys takes a few weyrling dragons on their first hunt! Aidavanth and Evyth make a good team. |
| Where: Feeding Grounds, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 2, Month 4, Turn 39 (Interval 10) |
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>---< Feeding Grounds, High Reaches Weyr >-----------------------------------< Wedged between the lake and the rest of the vast bowl are the dusty feeding grounds. Here, the well-trampled ground is contained by a sturdy wooden fence, cutting right through one end of the lake to section it off into a muddy watering hole for the animals. Several gates allow people in and out, while at the back, large overhangs of rock provide the herd -- a mixed bag of herdbeasts, wing-clipped wherries, and fat porcines -- shelter from storms or the hot sun. What grass survives is usually bloodstained, but feeding troughs are stationed around the edges of the pen. The older group of weyrlings have been free of meat chopping for weeks now, of course, but the younger group was bound to join them in that land of milk and honey eventually. Quinlys is equal opportunity in picking a group to go first, choosing not only some of the larger dragons, but also some of the smallest. Now, she has her group of five assembling just outside the pens. "Right," she says. "They're doing this from the ground, remember, so no wings. We've segregated some older, slower beasts for this, so they should have a better chance of actually catching them, but don't be concerned if it takes them a few goes. Hunting takes practice, right? Are there any questions?" Evyth's wings start to unfurl only in time for the reminder and (briefly sulkily) she folds them back down to Lys' wryly amused look at the green. « This is so exciting! » Evyth bubbles to anyone who will listen, and preferably especially those who will share in the current of feeling that threads through her words. Lys' smile only grows wider. The girl's hand comes up though, for questions, and asks - after being recognized - "Will they all try at once or one at a time?" Aidavanth, who would stand out by virtue of her size even if her hide were not so bright, makes a small sound in her throat and shifts her shoulders ever so slightly, enough to barely lift and resettle her still-folded wings despite a look from Jocelyn. Whirling eyes pick up speed as she looks just past the weyrlingmaster to the pens beyond, anticipation contained beneath a sense of calm focus - even if it wavers in the wake of Evyth's excitement, allowing a brief spark of adrenaline to escape for her sibling: Yes. Her partner's posture is tense, pale eyes flicking first to Lys with a nod for the other's question, then to Quinlys, expectant. "We'll try for a couple at a time," Quinlys says in answer to the question, blue eyes relatively serene is they slide from Lys towards the others in the group, one after another. "How about-- yes, all right. You two," Evyth and Aidavanth, "can go first. Show the others how it gets done, mm? They might," and this last is for their riders, "even try working together, if they need to." She gestures the two dragons closer, opening the gate to the pens so that they can enter without need for jumping (or, worse: flying). Lys nods her head in acknowledgement of the Weyrlingmaster's answer, one hand coming up to flick now-short blonde locks behind her ear. « Goodie! » Evyth is just so excited by the redhead's pronouncement and she seeks to bump her head against Aidavanth's side as if her excitement for food and doing it herself can't be contained to just her personal space. It's too big! Even if she doesn't get to fly, or jump, she's excited to head into the pens, head swinging this way and that to seek out those beasts designated for untidy deaths. "Working together," is repeated by the rider rather speculatively, her eyes going to Jocelyn along with a slight tilt of her chin up as if to ask if the other rider is game for trying to help in this aim. The concept of working together pleases Aidavanth, who hones her focus to Evyth with amused affection for that little head-bump as the gate swings open for them to make their pens debut. « You will be quicker on your feet, » she says sensibly, wryly sharing a feeling of being bigger, wider, more awkward as she follows in the green's wake. « I could frighten that one from its group, » that medium-sized one that lows while obliviously starting to pick its way to the left, « and then - » Pouncing. They could try it! There's caution in Jocelyn's expression as she takes a step away from her lifemate, then one closer to Lys. Her eyebrows lift in answer for the blonde's speculation, a considering glance observing this first of individual forays for food. Drily, "We might be here for a while." Quinlys closes the gate once the two dragons are inside (is it ominous? They're trapped!), and then leans forward, resting her forearms upon the fencepost in order to watch their progress. "Oh, you could be here for hours," she says in answer to Jocelyn, and she's smug for it. "But they'll get the hang of it, you watch. In any case, they're big enough now that even if the poor beasts charge them, they're not likely to hurt themselves, all right? And Olveraeth will step in if he needs to." To the other weyrlings: "Watch and learn, mm? Your turn next." It's possible Quinlys has spoken too soon. « I will so quick! » Evyth tells Aidavanth enthusiastically. « Like the win-- oopsie. » As might have been noticed by some, talking and physical action don't always meld well for the little accident prone green, and this 'oopsie' is where she tangles her feet and flumps down onto the ground with a groan and a « I'm okay! I'm okay, » just in case anyone had doubts. Lys only flinches at the flump, by now used to such mishaps, glancing briefly to Quinlys to nod confirmation of the green's opinion: nothing hurts. "Maybe don't talk while you try to hunt, Evy," she calls to the green. "Tell Aidavanth the plan sounds good? I'll talk for Evyth, to you, and you can talk to Aidavanth?" she suggests to the gold weyrling. « I know you will, » Aidavanth assures, catching up to her sister after she trips to encourage her back up with a little rumble, a brief nudge of her nose. Briefly, the wedge-shaped head swings to regard their riders, then back to their quarry. « Share your intent, » she suggests after a moment, « if that's easier. » Jocelyn winces for that tangle of limbs, lips pursing as Lys's proposal gets passed back and forth. "That would work, " the older weyrling allows, "but have her share the feeling of what she wants to do with Aidavanth, too. I don't think having a middle person will help make their actions any more efficient." It's blunt, but not unkind; a twitch at the corners of her mouth may soften her words, however just. Quinlys' mouth opens, yes, as Evyth takes her little tumble, but she's evidently inclined to accept what Lys says-- no doubt Olveraeth's brief intrusion into Evyth's mind helps with that. A nod follows, and a gesture of one hand: proceed! Otherwise, although she glances from one weyrling to the other (and then towards the dragons themselves), she seems inclined to leave them to their own organisational efforts. Olveraeth, too, may be listening, but seems disinclined to comment except: « Hunt well. » Intrusions are never unwelcome to Evyth so it's more like the door is already open, the mental table is set with an extra plate and if Olveraeth can only stay a moment? More's the pity. The green takes a moment in getting herself arranged to get back up, smudged with dirt but no worse for the wear otherwise. « Oh! » And Evyth might be about to say more, but then Lys pinches her eyes closed and has a tolerant smile. "That's a good idea," she offers to Jocelyn. It doesn't take much for Evyth, so generally open-minded, to open her mind enough that those feelings flow. It takes a little more focus for Lys to dull out the excitement enough for that to not drown out everything else. That one, she wants that one, an expectant look to Aidavanth probably means that she wants Aidavanth to go ahead with the plan; she's ready to pounce! (Pounce is a fun word, pounce, pounce, pounce, and only after that interlude does her rider gently lead her back to focus on this moment.) "Weyrlingmaster," Lys addresses, "are there exercises that can help a dragon have better sustained focus? Is it normal for them to still be so distractible?" "It would be nice, " remarks Jocelyn, "if it were so easy for us to communicate." As it is, they have to settle for vocalizing verbiage. Aidavanth's own excitement is there, certainly, but focus, some of which comes from her rider, filters down through that more open connection first, perhaps in an attempt to bolster both. Clearly: « Circle it, » that way, to the right, as the gold indicates that she's going to head it off from the left. She cuts a very noticeable figure at full height as she lopes toward that beast Evyth wants, adding a bellow for good measure. That stirs the rest of the group into attempting to beat a retreat away from the first-time hunters, while Aidavanth tries to use her size to full effect in cutting off the chosen prey's path. It isn't at all graceful, that abrupt turn she makes, weight shifting almost too much to one side as she seeks to block and force the frightened creature to move toward her accomplice. « Be ready! » "Careful, " breathes her partner aloud, hands clenching momentarily into fists at her sides. But her fellow weyrling's question garners a quick, if interested look for their weyrlingmaster's answer, too. Such welcome! Olveraeth is pleased by this, and perhaps more amused than he ought to be; still, he's a gracious enough guest to have. "Wouldn't it?" is Quinlys' comment in answer to Jocelyn, complete with a rueful laugh, though she's quick to move on to answering Lys. "You have to remember how short their memories are; that's part of it. Can you try and teach them to focus better? Absolutely. I'll show you some techniques-- come talk to me after we're all done here. But each dragon is different, and it's not necessarily going to work for you and her." Even as she speaks, her attention is mostly focused upon the dragon, a short approving nod acknowledging their progress thus far. « Don't squish it! » urges Evyth, then-- suddenly-- « Oh! Beast jelly! Do squish it! » At least this time as she does circle the way indicated, she manages to have these impulsive thoughts and move without doing herself injury, even if at one point she has to hop to avoid another trip. "Sometimes, it would be uncomfortable," Lys comments in a dull tone before suggesting, "Late at night when you know what the boys are doing in their cots, it would be awful, if they had as poor control as some of the dragons when it comes to how far a feeling is shared." Obviously, Lys' mental picture of late night boy activities is less than favorable. "Yes, ma'am," must be for the rest, about focus. Too late for making beast-preserves; Aidavanth manages to hold her balance as that beast, wide-eyed, veers away from the intimidating blockade and starts toward Evyth, movements slowed by age. That doesn't stop it from panicking, from calling out futilely as its fellows continue to run for the other side of the pens. « Pounce! » urges the fledgling queen, realigning herself to charge again at the beast, trying to narrow how much space it has in which to maneuver: if they can corner it, they can stop it from escaping. Ew, Lys; that's Jocelyn giving a constipated grimace next to her. "Unnecessary knowledge, " the redhead agrees at once. "If only it were selective. It'd be useful in some situations." And then her attention is pulled back to their lifemates, frame taut. Now, she might mouth silently. Or maybe that's an oh for how close they're getting. It's hard to tell. "I imagine it might be quite fun, were you simply sharing with your lover," supposes Quinlys, in a turn of conversation that is probably not wholly appropriate given present circumstances, and her position of authority. Luckily, she moves on from that fairly quickly. "It would certainly make diplomacy more interesting. There are times when you wouldn't want to know it all, right? Or when you wouldn't want the person you were talking to to know it. Subterfuge can be useful." Olveraeth, ignoring that part of the conversation, focuses intently upon the two young dragons. « So far so good, » he compliments them. « Now... bring it home! » Oh, oh! Pounce, yes. Evyth will pounce! It's graceful, it's lovely! She leaves the ground-- and the beast skirts just enough to the side that her landing skid in the dirt fails to make even a smidgen of beast jelly: missed! « Sorry! » she calls to both dragons, but that must mean she's once again uninjured. Lys makes a face for the failed pounce, clapping a little and encouraging, "Next time, Evy!" after rolling her eyes at Quinlys' first suggestion. "Seems like you could use it to lie as easily as you might to tell the truth, if you're skilled and clever," she observes, giving Jocelyn an oddly speculative look as the future diplomat among them. It's getting away, so Aidavanth turns the tail end of her charge into a frustration-fueled leap, talons seeking to injure even as the bulk of her weight is thrown forward to try to overcome their prey. She manages to catch it on its rear, enough to startle the fleeing beast into losing its balance. Down goes the bovine - and down goes its pursuer, momentum carrying her just past where it falls to halt in an unplanned meeting with the ground. « Get it while it's down, Evyth! » It'll surely take her some minutes longer than the green to get back up onto her feet, too-long limbs and tail hindering her from turning back around to fully face the beast as quickly as she'd like. Jocelyn also rolls her eyes for Quinlys's first with a look for Lys that plainly says, 'really?' Does she look uncomfortable when diplomacy is brought up, this one who has as much subtlety as their dragons' current hunting efforts? "If, " is given in measured reply, "you were planning to lie rather than using partial truths to accomplish, " and a vague gesture finishes off that train of thought, a flutter of fingers encompassing what one's goals in such a situation might be. "Most dragons can't lie," points out Quinlys, who is blithely unconcerned for the reactions to her earlier remark. "It just... doesn't work, mind-to-mind. You can obfuscate, but outright lies? Much more difficult. But you're right, Jocelyn: partial truths are the way to go, I think, in general. It's too easy to get caught up in actual lies. Oh-- they're making progress." Well done, baby dragons! Sort of. "Right. That means I'm going to get the next couple started. Keep an eye on them, mmm, and yell out if you need anything?" Off she goes. « Is that fair? » Evyth wonders, her query vaguely directed (perhaps slightly more to Olveraeth as the experienced authority than to Aidavanth. But even without an answer she scrabbles up to fall upon it with her foretalons. (Even if it isn't fair, it is delicious. Hopefully.) She's surprisingly efficient in her kill; perhaps she practiced with the carcasses that were brought to the barracks for them to devour in the last month. Lys' eyes follow the weyrlingmaster and her talk of lies, then a very pointed moment later she looks to Jocelyn. "'Making progress' is, I think, one of those partial truths. More true now that it's dead." She eyes it. "I suppose they should try for another?" Since there's two dragons. "Although Evyth might not eat as much as Aidavanth," the greenrider speculates. If these beasts have no other purpose than to be raised for food, then turning them into a meal by any method necessary is fair, as far as Aidavanth is concerned, a sentiment which filters through from behind her urging for her sibling: go, go, go. Exulting in Evyth's first kill almost as much as if she made the fatal blow, the orange-gold's nostrils flare with longing; the freshness is so close, something they've yet to truly experience. "They are making progress, " defends Jocelyn, releasing a briefly held breath once their first beast is felled. "Aidavanth may need another, " she admits after a considering look for the dragon in question, "but if Evyth would be willing to share - it might take some of the edge off so that they can regroup." Never mind that some of the other weyrlings who came out with them are starting their own hunts, sending more of the food supply running this way and that. "If Evyth is willing to share," is emphasized wryly and with just the slightest quirk of brow and lips. Lys nods; Evyth is never not willing to share. Never. What's hers is also anyone's who wants it. "Go on," she gives the green permission to dig in, a mental encouragement from the green herself to the gold lest she need confirmation that Lys speaks truth. The blonde shifts to lean against the fence, not apparently bothered by the consumption her dragon is doing, but whatever communion is or isn't going on seems to require silence for with focus in the pens, she lapses into a lengthy one. Aidavanth should bring down her own meal, but this one they've snared just smells so good now, and she's hungry. There's gratitude for Evyth's encouraging before her own muzzle lowers to sink eager teeth into that still-warm flesh, inspiring a delicious delight for the way it flows, tastes, feels, smears everywhere. Jocelyn spares her barracks neighbor a shrug that's almost sheepish; however familiar some of the other pair's habits have become over the past couple of months, she apparently still finds it important to ask. She's content to share that silence while their not-as-baby dragons eat, occasionally turning her attention to the progress of the other weyrlings from time to time. It's a messy affair, which will no doubt crowd up the bathing queue afterward. |
Comments
Squishy (17:56, 11 November 2015 (PST)) said...
BABY DRAGON CUTENESS!
Ahem. Carry on.
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