Logs:What Dragons Do - Revision history

Bot: Text replace - "HRW Clutch 37" to "Clutch 115"

2016-01-21T20:55:51Z

Text replace - "HRW Clutch 37" to "Clutch 115"

Faryn at 14:56, 8 May 2015

2015-05-08T14:56:28Z

Faryn at 01:17, 7 May 2015

2015-05-07T01:17:46Z

H'kon: Created page with "{{Log |who=Edyis, J'vain, Keysi, T'mic, Yesia |what=Little dragons give this whole 'hunting' business a shot. |where=Feeding Grounds, High Reaches Weyr |involves=High Reaches..."

2015-05-06T22:50:14Z

Created page with "{{Log |who=Edyis, J'vain, Keysi, T'mic, Yesia |what=Little dragons give this whole 'hunting' business a shot. |where=Feeding Grounds, High Reaches Weyr |involves=High Reaches..."

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 T'mic and Jorrth are thus... left there. The little blue gets to his rider's side, curling his tail around the back of T'mic's knees as he arrives, and then, passes. J'vain looks to T'mic. T'mic looks to J'vain. The weyrlingmaster gives a little nod of his head after Yesia, and the bluerider nods. << We'll make sure she's okay, >> Jorrth promises, as they head back toward the barracks.
-|Categories=HRW Clutch 37 Logs
+|Categories=Clutch 115 Logs
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 Now that Jorrth's beast is down, T'mic is more willing to watch the other dragons. To watch Aeaeth. "A team, and a family," comes as agreement to Keysi's comment, as the bluerider happily joins in the conversation. "That's why they all screamed like they did, when Hraedhyth died." Someone has been paying attention to his lessons in local history, in ranking members, in all these things. Though the mention of it still makes him uneasy, has him shifting in his position up against the fence. "Anyway, we're all better off when we're together, really. Not just because of like... tricks and Thread and things, not only."
-Yesia's not quite going to climb over the railing to her dragon, and indeed seems to be watching her with a critical eye for reactions, like she half expects tears. But Aeaeth's just shaking her head, back and forth, a motion that belies, << Yes, >> for Neianth's offer, then in sudden sharp trills of correction, << No! Mine says I can do it alone. I ''can'', >> she assures, righting herself and trying to hone in on her porcine again. Yesia's nonchalant shrug shows exactly how little she cares for Keysi's and T'mic's interpretation, and her overall willingness to accept it. "It's just something to do while they're bored, those drills." Or at least that's how she sees it, in whatever ignorant state she chooses to exist. "The dragons don't need to be taut; they know their places, and their jobs, and their riders. Drills are for us."
+Yesia's not quite going to climb over the railing to her dragon, and indeed seems to be watching her with a critical eye for reactions, like she half expects tears. But Aeaeth's just shaking her head, back and forth, a motion that belies, << Yes, >> for Neianth's offer, then in sudden sharp trills of correction, << No! Mine says I can do it alone. I ''can'', >> she assures, righting herself and trying to hone in on her porcine again. "She's fine," is the parallel, concern quickly forgotten when Aeaeth proceeds. Yesia's nonchalant shrug shows exactly how little she cares for Keysi's and T'mic's interpretation, and her overall willingness to accept it. "It's just something to do while they're bored, those drills." Or at least that's how she sees it, in whatever ignorant state she chooses to exist. "The dragons don't need to be taughtt; they know their places, and their jobs, and their riders. Drills are for us."
 The twitch in Edyis's jaw, almost imperceptible but there. Where were the weyrlingmasters when you actually ''needed'' them. Akluseth's lift of his muzzle and regard of the little green at her assertion. << There is nothing wrong with needing help Aeaeth. Even if yours is too stubborn to think so. >> Gentle and warm, those seawater currents offer. The last is likely bleedover from his rider's thoughts rather than his own. His tail flicking. << What do you think Jorrth? If all three of us work together? >> Since he's the one with the plans.

@@ Line 76: / Line 76: @@
 Now that Jorrth's beast is down, T'mic is more willing to watch the other dragons. To watch Aeaeth. "A team, and a family," comes as agreement to Keysi's comment, as the bluerider happily joins in the conversation. "That's why they all screamed like they did, when Hraedhyth died." Someone has been paying attention to his lessons in local history, in ranking members, in all these things. Though the mention of it still makes him uneasy, has him shifting in his position up against the fence. "Anyway, we're all better off when we're together, really. Not just because of like... tricks and Thread and things, not only."
-Yesia's not quite going to climb over the railing to her dragon, and indeed seems to be watching her with a critical eye for reactions, like she half expects tears. But Aeaeth's just shaking her head, back and forth, a motion that belies, << Yes, >> for Neianth's offer, then in sudden sharp trills of correction, << No! Mine says I can do it alone. I ''can'', >> she assures, righting herself and trying to hone in on her porcine again. Yesia's nonchalant shrug shows exactly how little she cares for Keysi's and T'mic's interpretation, and her overall willingness to accept it. "It's just something to do while they're bored, those drills." Or at least that's how she sees it, in whatever ignorant state she chooses to exist. "The dragons don't need to be taught; they know their places, and their jobs, and their riders. Drills are for us."
+Yesia's not quite going to climb over the railing to her dragon, and indeed seems to be watching her with a critical eye for reactions, like she half expects tears. But Aeaeth's just shaking her head, back and forth, a motion that belies, << Yes, >> for Neianth's offer, then in sudden sharp trills of correction, << No! Mine says I can do it alone. I ''can'', >> she assures, righting herself and trying to hone in on her porcine again. Yesia's nonchalant shrug shows exactly how little she cares for Keysi's and T'mic's interpretation, and her overall willingness to accept it. "It's just something to do while they're bored, those drills." Or at least that's how she sees it, in whatever ignorant state she chooses to exist. "The dragons don't need to be taut; they know their places, and their jobs, and their riders. Drills are for us."
 The twitch in Edyis's jaw, almost imperceptible but there. Where were the weyrlingmasters when you actually ''needed'' them. Akluseth's lift of his muzzle and regard of the little green at her assertion. << There is nothing wrong with needing help Aeaeth. Even if yours is too stubborn to think so. >> Gentle and warm, those seawater currents offer. The last is likely bleedover from his rider's thoughts rather than his own. His tail flicking. << What do you think Jorrth? If all three of us work together? >> Since he's the one with the plans.
@@ Line 112: / Line 112: @@
 Jorrth doesn't topple, because he's ''trying'' to get out of the way. But he gets hit, and he stumbles, and once he manages to right himself, it's with a shimmy of his wings and a shake of his head. Those same wings are folded back, flat, against his back, and it's a quick march toward T'mic now. << I'm sorry, >> is honest, and he leaves Aeaeth with her prize. << I hope it's good. >> Her prize that he helped down. T'mic, bless his heart, is even after all that accusation reaching a hand for Yesia's shoulder, even if he's grimacing some. Blood and brains from not-Jorrth, even if perhaps via him, are not so enjoyable, it seems. "You okay?"
-Yep. She's going to barf. Aeaeth is not being helpful at all, her tongue lapping into the gaping hole she's crunched through the pig's skull, and she announces, ever so pleasant, << It's the best part, >> and all the sensory input is continuous now. It would be just for Yesia, but for some reason it's everyone. Share the love. << I will, >> she assures, sassy and unapologetic, even while Yesia takes very deep breaths, very slow breaths, and then T'mic reaches out to touch her and she recoils, batting his hand, all of it enough to send her over the edge. When she leaves it's at a ''run'' towards the bowl, though the chances she'll make it to the barracks is obviously very slim. Aeaeth? She makes the second most important choice of her life and keeps eating, sparing only a brief and worried glance in Yesia's wake.
+Yep. She's going to barf. Aeaeth is not being helpful at all, her tongue lapping into the gaping hole she's crunched through the pig's skull, and she announces, ever so pleasant, << It's the best part, >> and all the sensory input is continuous now. It would be just for Yesia, but for some reason it's everyone. Share the love. << I will, >> she assures, sassy and unapologetic, even while Yesia takes very deep breaths, very slow breaths, and then T'mic reaches out to touch her and she recoils, batting his hand, all of it enough to send her over the edge. When she leaves it's at a ''run'' towards the bowl, though the chances she'll make it to the barracks are obviously very slim. Aeaeth? She makes the second most important choice of her life and keeps eating, sparing only a brief and worried glance in Yesia's wake.
 T'mic and Jorrth are thus... left there. The little blue gets to his rider's side, curling his tail around the back of T'mic's knees as he arrives, and then, passes. J'vain looks to T'mic. T'mic looks to J'vain. The weyrlingmaster gives a little nod of his head after Yesia, and the bluerider nods. << We'll make sure she's okay, >> Jorrth promises, as they head back toward the barracks.
 |Categories=HRW Clutch 37 Logs
 }}