Difference between revisions of "Logs:Claws and Flaws"

This time, it's not thicktail, nor more-than-incipient chubbiness that brings Pyrite - Alida not far behind the fluttering little gold - into the dragonhealer's complex. Instead, it's an owner-dictated checkup for the firelizard around a Turn after her previous one, the wee gold seeming to be in good spirits as she buzzes over the heads of various people inside...her human as stoic as usual. While the flit churrs to herself as she investigates, 'lida steps up to the intake area, and pointedly asks for "Leova."

"Is Dragonhealer Leova expecting you?" the balding man asks, brusque. He glances at the bluerider and then past her, as though he might glimpse Ilicaeth somehow lurking in her shadow.

If Ilicaeth's behind her, the blue is blending into the rock damned well. Alida levels one of her dead-eyed stares at the balding man, and raps off a cool and smooth, "She was the one that treated Pyrite last time." So, the greenrider should be better in the know than mister brusque or any of the others...nevermind that it's the redhead in specific that the bluerider wants.

Stare or no stare, the man doesn't look particularly impressed. "Is Dragonhealer Leova expecting you," he repeats with decreasing patience. "Or is it an emergency. We have a schedule."

Attitude seems to match attitude, and to flatface behind the desk, Alida fires off another bland, "Apparently you know nuthin' about a good bedside manner..." Look who's talking. It perhaps doesn't matter, however, since Pyrite's found the specific dragonhealer in question, and is making a mix of alerting and chipper sounds while trying to alight upon the greenrider's shoulder. Hi-hi! Look at me! I'm here for you to look at!

The man outright guffaws, then gets back to what he was doing. It doesn't mean he doesn't keep half an eye on the bluerider, nor that he doesn't notice her firelizard's disappearance. He glances back over his shoulder. Meanwhile, Pyrite's discovering that Leova's elbow-deep in hidework, though she does look up all of a sudden at all those sounds. "What? Don't even have any food, you." Not quite true: she does have a mug of klah and half a roll left, but that's human food.

Chitter, burble, click, hum! Pyrite's doing her best to verbally communicate with Leova, the flit landing on the woman's desk, and mince-stepping carefully over towards her - avoiding those hides as much as she can - while her human notes almost drolly to the man, "Glad yer enjoying the show." A quick mental communication with her firelizard inspires the bluerider to make a certain choice, her best drill instructor tone launched down the cavern in an alto bark of, "SHE'S GOTTA EARN THAT 'ROLL, GLACIER!" Hopefully Leova with easily recognize the bluie's often-heard tone from wing drills.

Leova has been eyeing the firelizard, not shooing her away since she's avoiding the hides. She stretches for another mug, one that turns out to be empty when the woman turns it over, setting it protectively over the roll. At that bark? Recognition's no problem, though her brows furrow before she stands and heads for the outer area. "Keep your sharding voice down, Alida. This here isn't the great outdoors," is what she says even before her otherwise silent co-worker moves to intercept her.

Well then; task accomplished! Pyrite looks only somewhat crestfallen than Leova's guarding her meatroll like that, the flit soon enough abandoning the desk in favor of sailing blithely after the greenrider, back towards 'her' human, again. While the bluie awaits her wingmate, she gives 'chuckles' over there behind the desk a very lazy hint of a drawling half-smirk. When Leova reaches normal speaking distance, the blonde responds in more usual tones with, "Pardons." Beat. "I see she picked ya out 'erself." Cue a jerk of chin to circling Pyrite, who gives a noise of agreement.

It's a plain old roll, no meat at all. But, "Mm," says the dragonhealer, and settles into what must be a concise briefing given that it's short-lived. As the man returns to his work not far away, "What's going on, as you can't be bothered to take it polite?"

Turning most of her back on the man, Alida murmurs without much lip movement to Leova, "Polite would've been easier without *his* attitude." One to match her own. Shrug. "Since yer' the one who treated 'er last time, I wanted the most-informed opinion uv' how Pyrite's doin'... weight wise, anyway. Wanna make sure she's healthy." Valid concern. And, if the greenrider's not feeling terribly charitable right now, there's a couple of small coins soon covertly pressing into her palm to try and urge her that way, the gesture looking much more like a friendly handclasp to outsiders.

Leova observes her fellow wingrider, those amber eyes unforthcoming. She takes the marks. Then, not looking away, she moves her hand over the counter and drops them. It's not far. It's a bare clatter, no more. They don't fall. "Reckon you need to respect this place. You're Glacier, you get some leeway with me. When you disrespect this place, these people, not so much."

There's a pointed, if still bland eyeing of those coins as they touch the desk, Alida far too inured to such things to bother even batting an eye, much less blushing. Instead, the bluerider lips off an unfazed, low, "Place; profession? Hardly. Individual...?" Of course. Shrug. In the air, Pyrite stops her patient swirling, comes to a perch upon one of Alida's shoulders, her eyes not completely blue anymore, but also showing tiny flecks of orange here and there in their facets. In silence, the gold's mistress waits.

Waiting's overlapped with Leova's long look. "Like to think," she says, "you know how to treat a body right. Know you do, if you can be arsed. So do it. Talk respectful. Answer questions. Don't be yelling without cause. This isn't some bar in the back end of nowhere."

There's a grave bit of a nod to the greenrider's words of Alida's ability to treat people decently, some of her very subtle stiffness - along with that hint of orange in Pyrite's blue gaze - disappearing. "You got a few moments ta look 'er over?" To this, the firelizard chirples softly, then spreading her outer wing as if to show off her thinner - though still slightly plump - frame.

"Can do," Leova says, measured. "You apologize to my assistant, I'll do it. What you did. What you should've done. What you'll do next time." Then, roughness entering her low, smoky voice, "No reason for this hassle, Alida. Not like you couldn't find me in drills." Before. After. Whatever.

Now *that* meets with a dull flash of something dark within Alida's green eyes, the still flat-faced bluerider just staring into Leova's own gaze for a long moment. A faint shrug of her non-lizard-bearing shoulder later finds the woman stepping over to that particular man, and murmuring something through barely moving lips to him. Once she's done, the rider steps back over to her wingmate, notes in dead fashion, "Didn' occur ta me until *now*." So she just reacted... a very Guard-like thing to do to a sudden stimulus.

"'Didn't think to match your conduct to the situation,'" Leova near-repeats. "Surprises me, a woman like you. Thought as you'd be trained better'n that." The man, who hadn't retorted despite an expression suggesting he'd have liked to, is busy writing in a file. Might even be the bluerider's. "So. Show me."

Alida was once known for burning bridges behind her, so it was destined to show up again at some point... perhaps now. This time, Leova gets a stony look, and a stiff, if quiet, "I act decent ta people who treat me decent. And how about right now, Leova? Yer harpin' on me still, after I took yer fuckin' medicine. You think yer doin' any good in anyone's book but yer own, right now?" Holding her temper in check, the blonde coaxes a now-crooning (to try and calm her human) Pyrite to her wrist, the gold slowly spreading her wings open and adopting a fetching pose so Leova can oggle her less-ample frame. I'm pretty, and I'm delightful! Churrrr.

Not like Leova can't argue. But. She looks at Alida. "Going to look at your firelizard now," she says, mild. "'Fore you talk me out of it." Then she's looking at Pyrite, examining, with an eye toward skin flakes or any abnormality in the way she moves her body.

That's perfectly fine with her, as well. Or before Alida can stalk off and never say a word to Leova again outside of business. Such a temper; such a hardhead! Pyrite is obliging of whatever's asked of her (within reason), the firelizard looking to be in overall excellent health, though she could honestly stand to drop a little more weight to meet the prime standard for her size, bone, and color range. Her talons *do* seem just a hint bumpy in places, tiny ridges showing here and there, while her pale ivory teeth bear a couple hints of indentations and even a tiny bit of a groove or fracture.

"Not eating rocks, are you?" Leova says to the firelizard as she pokes at that groove, careful. Her tone's calm. It's not that she's talking with her, more half-directed to the bluerider and half just reassuring with her voice. The talons got a passing glance, and the rest of her physique, but Alida's always been more concerned about that sort of thing than she.

A buzz of a question is emitted by Pyrite, and the quiet Alida offers an image of the little gold eating a rock and pebbles to her pet. Cue a faintly outraged little huff from the gold, to which her owner gives Leova a stiff bit of a headshake. No rocks. She might remain silent, but the health of her minion requires words, so... "You see it, too, then." The teeth. "I don' think 'er teeth 'n claws were like that before the diet." Mutter.

"Don't reckon so," is Leova's agreement. She touches the little creature's neck, careful-like. "Bright eyes, resilient hide, active. She's got that, that's the important part. And not raiding what humans make." As much. "Might be she has to do more work hunting. Don't want to have to pull that tooth down the road, though, hm?"

Pyrite leans her arching neck into Leova's touch, the flit unabashedly eager for attention. Her hide feels soft and supple, though - to trained hands - the faintest hint 'tight' in some fashion. Still grudging, but becoming more the 'attentive momma' (?!?), Alida replies to Leova with a low, cautious, "Was there maybe somethin' she was gettin' outta' a more human diet that she's not in a more firelizard one?" There's some concern in the bluie's alto as she coaxes Pyrite to a forearm, then lifts the gold to eye level to peer deeply at her...for the third time today, actually. "I feed 'er 95 percent meat from the pen, when possible. She seems ta prefer it lightly seared on the outside."

"Could be. Shouldn't be anything good for her that she's missing, though. What I'd say," Leova considers the pair. "Keep in mind, it's winter. The beasts get fed, but they just don't keep it on as well. Get out where she can catch some good fish. And keep an eye on her hide, hm? Talons too. Her neck's just a little less springy than the rest. But fish, fish should do her right, and if it gets you fish-breath, well."

There's honest concern and concentration from Alida by now, the woman nothing but attentive and serious over her pet, green eyes cool and level as she nods to Leova's points. "Winter... yeah." Ponder. "She likes the south, Ista... good fishin' there." The ideas in her human's head sets Pyrite to creeling in anticipation of an upcoming fish feast, the gold's blue eyes whirling faster, though she's not presently hungry. Up to a shoulder the little beastie's coaxed, while 'lida mentions casually, "She chews mint when Ilicaeth tells 'er to." So, no problem. Still, all this mention of flits - and now dragons - has the blonde's facile mind leaping about (now that it's less concerned about her firelizard), and prompting her to fire off a distinctly quiet and from left-field, "Whadda' you 'n the other dragonhealers think uv'...Zvaraseth... 'n those newest Fortian dragonets?" Especially that poor bronze.

"Must be a lot of mint," Leova supposes, with a skeptical look at the younger woman. She looks past her, then. Her mouth pulls to one side. "That's out of the blue, and not a happy thought, neither. Even Zvaraseth's better off'n that one there."

"I know a few places where it grows wild. Just go there, harvest a little..." Alida shrugs of keeping Pyrite's breath less stinky, the blonde then quietly studying Leova's features and form as the dragonhealer responds to word of the pair of malformed dragons at 'Reaches and Fort. After a few seconds for some rumination, the bluie quietly notes, "Any thoughts as ta the why uv' 'em both?"

"Why a pair of senior queens had malformed hatchlings?" Leova puts it plainly. "Given that Iesaryth," the way she says the name is not devoid of inflection, "and Reisoth's clutch hatched cleanly. Turn the question around, it becomes, why did they hatch instead of just not. Why didn't they have two dead eggs 'stead of one."

Those often jaded green eyes go a little unfocused as Alida ponders what Leova has to say, though the bluerider finally does murmur, "Isn't that purposely putting a positive spin on things?" Beat. "I know that outside things c'n influence our dragons...like food 'n water content, air... stuff like that. Can things like that get inta' a mating pair, maybe...mess up their offspring?"

"Don't know how positive it is," Leova says, mild. "Zvaraseth is one thing, but matching a man to a dragon who like as not can't fly, can't ever fly? What kind of a life is that for them?"

Leova's words give Alida more to ponder over, the blonde nodding thoughtfully as Pyrite winds her way under the bluerider's braid, draping her golden form behind the woman's neck. "I dunno..." is murmured, one shoulder rolled lightly. "Still... gotta' wonder about outside influences..." A guard, questioning potential outcomes, wondering at motivations? Not unheard of at all. "Alright; it's fishing th' next time yer hungry," 'lida's suddenly lighter tone notes to her pet, who makes soft sounds of pleasure and rubs her nose against the blonde's jaw. "Thanks fer the advice..." she notes crisply to the greenrider. "I'll keep a closer eye on 'er claws 'n such."

"Welcome." Perhaps not just for firelizard-advice. "Before you go," Leova adds. "Not saying we're not looking into those, that I'll say to you. But." She sets a hand to the counter. "Don't want it to make the rounds and start becoming that we are looking into them, hm? That becomes that we're suspicious of it. That becomes that we're looking at someone, or someones, in particular. You hear any stories, go ahead and drop 'em by me."

There's a faintly-sarcastic, knowing look on Alida's features as she looks at Leova, the bluie bobbing her pale head once to the other woman. "I'll filter what comes out 'n in." She *is* pretty good at not revealing most important things, and keeping an ear out for information. A faint tap of two lazy fingers to her brow presages the woman's pivot on a boot heel, and her departure from the cavern. Outside, a dragon's low rumble can be heard, soon enough followed by a clipped, "How should *I* fucking know?"