Difference between revisions of "Logs:Hunters and Prey"

>---< Inner Caverns, High Reaches Weyr(#270RJs) >----------------------------<



  Within the labyrinth of interconnected chambers that make up the inner    

  caverns, this large, long cavern serves both as a crossroads and a        

  comfortable place for weyrfolk to sit, talk, and keep a nosy eye out for  

  who's going where. Colorful, seasonal tapestries add warmth to the smooth 

  walls and reduce echoes, while large niches house clusters of chairs, and 

  a waist-high stone shelf along one wall provides a perch for drinks or    

  work for residents on the go. Worn brass hooks often hold jackets or other

  outerwear with workboots stationed beneath, the transitory nature of the  

  cavern lending itself to being treated as a sort of communal foyer where  

  snowy or muddy gear can be kept outside of living quarters. Smaller,      

  higher niches at regular intervals hold glowbaskets kept fresh during the 

  daytime and allowed to dim somewhat at night.                             

                                                                            

  The largest tunnels lead to the main living cavern, to the bowl and to the

  Weyr entrance, but it's still easy for the uninitiated to get lost within 

  this maze.                                                                



 -----------------------------< Active Players >-----------------------------

  Edyis        F  20  5'4"  athletic, brown hair, brown eyes              0s 

  Zadkiel      M  20  6'3"  lean, black hair, green eyes                 52s

>---------------------------------------< 14D 6M 37T I10, summer morning >---<

It's not quite noon, but near enough that most folks are filtering out to get their mid-day meal or maybe check on the progress of the cave-in. The lack of meat has lead to slightly unorthodox methods of protein acquisition - and, as it turns out, some of the tunnelsnakes here are the edible kind. Zadkiel and a couple of other Candidates are exploring the innermost caverns of the Weyr and searching for signs of their recent passage. The lot are equipped with long knives with hooks at the end, and sturdy, forked sticks for trapping the beasts. "Stay in pairs," is the Igenite's suggestion. "One traps, one kills." Gauging from the series of obvious toothmarks - long-healed scars that they are - on his arm, he probably has some idea of what he's doing now.

Fangy, clawed monster hunting? No it is no coincidence that Edyis has sidled up to the hunter, giving him her biggest wide eyed begging expression. "You promised you'd teach me." There might even be the faintest of eyelash batting accompanying it, so desperate is the girl to not get lectured again for not catching anything and getting accused of slacking off.

His answer is a low grunt and a sidelong look that lingers for a few beats on Edyis's face. Zadkiel starts moving along one wall, a hand pressed to it as if to feel anything moving. He's silent for a little while, until they're far enough from the other hunting pairs that he can speak in low tones and still be heard. "They're probably riled up after the cave in," he observes. "Might catch quite a few if we're lucky." A glance is flicked back to his fellow Candidate. All that desperation and possible eyelash batting earns her a choice: "Do you want to trap? Or kill?"

It might be hard to tell if Edyis is pleased or terrified at that. "Trapping." She seems to decide, albeit quite reluctantly. "Since I'm not sure how well I'd do with the killing. My brothers always did the hunting."

At that, Zadkiel offers over his forked stick, while the knife remains at the ready in his other hand. "If we find a second," he says, "you'll get your chance to see how you do with the killing. Haven't seen the venomous kind, so you'll only have to worry about teeth." He moves forward, his pace steady and his footfalls nearly silent. Head cocked and eyes narrowed, he listens. A breath in, held, and finally released in a slow, soundless stream. "The first is always the hardest," he adds after a moment or two. "Gets easier after that. This way. They like the dark." And it's down into the proper belly of the Weyr, where the glows aren't recycled quite as often and the air is somewhat stagnant.

Edyis is dubious at the idea of killing, but she listens with all the attentiveness she would listen to a harper lecture. (While for some that would mean none, in her case it is the opposite.) Following him down into the bowels of the weyr with a delicate swallow, "And noise?" She asks in a barely audible whisper; eyes focused keenly on the hunter, mimicking his movements to the best of her ability.

"Keep it low," is his deliberately muted response. "Doesn't seem like they hear the same way we do, but they feel things. Movement. Vibration. A bit like spinners." Zadkiel pauses to grab a basket full of dying glows. This is offered to Edyis without a word - just the expectation that she'll take it. "Pretty sure most can't see, either," might be meant as some sort of reassurance. "Works to our advantage. What do you know about them?" His path seems to be taking them to where a few abandoned bubbles in the stone are; these are populated to some degree by spinners and the like, with some claw marks here and there to suggest tunnelsnakes have been here. Perhaps not recently - but, it's hard to tell in the dim light.

Edyis nods silently, and of them, "Only that they are pests, cause damage, and some varieties are poisonous." She murmurs as softly as she can while still being heard. She looks at the marks with a frown, tilting her head at the hunter.

There's a slight nod for her response. "All true." Zadkiel stops again, but only to properly face Edyis. "Take a handful of those glows and scatter them in this chamber." He points at the chamber in question and slips inside it, but only to shutter the two or three glow baskets that remain to cast feeble light in the dusty space. "We'll bait it out here with jerky. Raw meat is better," the unspoken "but" hangs in the air. He grunts. "Then we wait. Watch the glows."

Long fingers dig into the basket, fetching out a handful of the glows and tossing them in the air to scatter in all directions. "Watch the glows?" She questions, "You mean we tell by which ones black out where they are?"

This time, the grunt is a melodic hum-grunt. Satisfied. "Easier that way," Zadkiel replies. "You can see how fast it's coming. Where it's coming from. Where it's going, most times." He settles into a crouch some distance behind Edyis and breaks up some pieces of jerky - a few are scattered among the glows, but the rest is strewn between them. "When it crosses about there," he points at the floor of the bubble's entrance, "You should be able to see enough to drop the fork on it. Try to get behind the head. Don't have to, but it's easier." He cants a look up at her from his crouched position. "If you can't trap it at all, get out of the way. Understood?"

Her jaw sets and she nods. Can't It be harder than dodging a punch right? Well, she will tell herself that anyway. "How will I know if I can't trap it?"

"You'll know," is Zak's ever-so-helpful response in deadpan. "But. If you don't trap it, I'll make you gut it and clean it." It's hard to tell if the Igenite is joking or not. He waits in his crouch behind Edyis; the pair are deep in the belly of the Weyr, where the glows are dim and the air is still. They're in front of a smallish chamber choked with dust and spinnerwebs, with a scattering of dying glows on the floor in the room along with the jerky. He has a knife with a hook; she's been entrusted with a long stick that's forked at the end. Other Candidates are scattered in pairs throughout the innards of the Weyr with the same equipment, on a hunt for the edible tunnelsnakes that were inevitably forced to relocate after the cave in.

Schuyler comes around the corner, he's been sent to collect the tunnel snakes that have been captured and he carrying a basket with a few of them already in it when he rounds the corner to the Ed/Zak pair. He's walking quietly, trying not to scare any of the tunnel snakes or candidates hunting them. He approaches the pair.

Edyis's confidence in her instructor is as plain as the wide-eyed stare at him at the mention of gutting. Pressure on! She adjusts herself then, it's more akin to her sparring stance where she's got a solid grip and won't be moved, dark eyes adjusting to the dimming light, occasionally glancing over to her instructor. She doesn't dare greet Sky when he arrives, simply because she does not want to miss the snake, and thus wind up gutting it."

The arrival of another is peripherally noted. Schuyler, in fact, gets a shallow nod of acknowledgment from Zadkiel, but that's all the hunter can spare for the moment. In the chamber, something is finally stirring. Glows wink out and reappear after several seconds, marking the sluggish passage of some terrible beast. The faint rasp of claws on stone is paired with a muted, throaty sound of some sort. The tunnelsnake approaches - and it's all in Edyis's hands at that point. Any glances his way are met with some small gesture or another of confidence - not reassurance, not at all. She'll either do it - or she'll be gutting it. It's no longer his choice. The hunter-turned-Candidate is finally able to gesture at the basket-bearing fellow and motion for him to stay where he is for now.

Schuyler catches the snake movement and holds his place, a slight smirk on his lips as he spots the discomfort in Edyis.

It is the rasp of claws that draws her attention first, listening, watching that movement slowly. For some time, she doesn't move, even as the shadow twines about the glows. She waits until the very last possible moment, going for what she believes to be the head of that pronged tool. It's fast, her strike, pinning down what she hopes is the head to the floor and holding the stick firmly. Though The shrill noise the creature makes her unsteady.

The 'snake is, thus, properly trapped. It protests with a shrill cry and starts to thrash, limbs flailing and claws scraping. No sooner than the forked stick lands than Zadkiel's on the move. The knife is brought down quickly and cleanly, severing the head from the body. The body continues in its death throes for some moments after, but he states simply, "It is done. You did well." All the better if he can catch her gaze in order to say those words. He glances over his shoulder at Schuyler and gestures for him to come closer. "This one is fit to take back." As for the head? He'll take that for now. "How much room do you have in that basket?" That's tossed over as an idle question, while he cleans the knife off.

Schuyler snags the body of the lizard, a curious look as the other boy takes the head. Fitting it into the basket he assess the space left. "Still room for a few more. Nice catch there, by the way, Ed. That your first one?"

Schuyler has partially disconnected.

It is a shocking thing, landing one on the first try; she is even more surprised at the speed with which Zadkiel has the head sliced cleanly off. Dark brown eyes meet green, and there is the faintest curl of her mouth detectable in the faded glowlight at the hunter's words. She nods to Sky. Ready to move back into position to wait for the next, at the first suggestion.

A somewhat musical hum-grunt is his initial reply to Schuyler. Then: "Good." Zadkiel scuffs a boot over the ichor splattered on the floor and squints into the gloom of the chamber. The knife, now clean, is offered to Edyis. "The stick. Your turn to kill." To Schyler: "Have you ever done this before?" As for that head? Regardless of the success of tool-trading, he'll find a way to crack into the skull with his fingers and fish out whatever passes for tunnelsnake brains. These are strewn where the jerky is, adding another grisly layer to the whole affair. "There should be another here. Listen." That's for both of them; he'll lapse into silence and whether or not they hear the faint scrabble of claws on stone or not will be determined soon enough.

Schuyler nods in response to the question about having hunted them before. "I work in the kitchens, it's one of the jobs I got pretty often when I started there." he replies. "You want me to take a turn?" he offers, holding or his hand for the fork.

Blinks at him as he hands her the knife. "I don't know that this is a good idea..." Her with the killing implement. Snake brain. Yummy. "Cannibalistic?" she murmurs perhaps forgetting that that is the way of much of the native Pernese life. She slips into position, dark eyes watching; the sickening splat makes her cringe, still she waits, ears peeled for the tale-tell signs of scrambling.

The fork is summarily passed to Schuyler; Zadkiel will take the basket, if only to set it aside for the time being. "Good," is an echo of before and equally satisfied when it comes to the kitchenworker. "Trap it and she'll kill it." Because there is no other option, clearly. Not from the way his gaze seeks to pin Edyis down. Clearly, the threat of gutting and cleaning remains in effect - despite her protests. "They'll eat most things. If they're hungry enough, they'll eat their own young." There's surely more, but the faint rattle of talons can be picked up again. He falls silent again and remains off to a side, leaving the other two to get into position. In the chamber, the glows start to wink out and come back to feeble life; the movements of the creature are either slow - or it's especially large. It moves inexorably toward the source of meatsmells - but the path is slow and curving, as if it's picking up the other tidbits before it goes for the real prize.

Schuyler crouches into a familiar position, watching for the movement. Their voices having paused the other snake for a moment. A few minutes tick past and finally the scratching sound of claws pass, causing the glows to be hidden from their sight once again. Poised and ready, Sky pins the snake neatly. "Quick, now, Ed. Right in front if the fork." his hushed voice instructs.

Edyis moves quickly but she misjudges the amount of force it takes to cut through the snake's neck, a terrible hiss escaping the creature. With a sickened expression, she tries to use the rest of her weight to force the knife through jostling the stick. as noisily she gets the knife through, looking sick to her stomach. The ragged body is tossed in the direction of the basket while Edyis steps back, taking slow deep breaths.

The carcass is caught before it can hit the ground. Zadkiel clicks his tongue against the back of his teeth all of twice, then drops the slain 'snake in amongst its fellows. "Very good," is probably for both of them. His approach of Edyis is slow and calculated, with a hand offered to take the knife. He'll even helpfully place himself so she can't see the puddle of ichor left behind. A sidelong look is angled to Schuyler, then, and he intones, "If we keep this up, we'll be able to get the whole Weyr fat on them."

Schuyler reaches towards Edyis even as Zadkiel steps between her and the mutilated snake. A grateful smile as a compliment is given to his friend. "You all right, Ed?" he asks, then a chuckle for Zad. "I've a bunch of recipes I want to try out with them. Either of you want to be my taste testers?"

Edyis looks at the knife in her hand a little shakily, before handing it over suddenly grateful for that calculation on his part, even as she looks at the body in the basket, and the spatters on her clothing, as though still trying to process what she had just done. She studies the hunters expression briefly, as though expecting to find dissapointment there, before claiming her turn at the basket. She just shakes her head at Sky. Staying out of reach for the moment. <re>

Yet, there is no disappointment to be found there. If there is any, it's well-buried beneath the layers of cultured indifference on the Igenite's face. Zak cleans the knife as before, then collects the head. This time, though, the skull isn't split. Instead, he keeps it and slants a look to the basket and Edyis. "I think we have done enough here," he finally intones. "If you are willing to cook, I am willing to eat." Yet, there's a sidelong look to Edyis again. Nothing is said; rather, the weight of his gaze is an assessing one. Contemplative, even. An addendum is thusly made: "After a bath and something to drink."

Schuyler smiles. "Ed, it's far less gross when you cut them up every day. Just a part of the cycle of things." he grins at Zak. "Hey, you got it man. And yes, definitely want to clean up first. I'm working on making them more palatable to a larger range of people." he explains.

Edyis just stares at the ichor on her hands, the ragged cut body in the basket, brows faintly knit together. "A bath and a drink. Yes those first please." Then food.

< Bathing Pools, High Reaches Weyr > < 14D 6M 37T I10, summer afternoon >

He's nearly done, is Tomic, down to his feet, and balancing precariously by a heel on the edge of the baths while he scrubs between the toes of that same foot. A towel is set nearby, waiting for him on a little stool that's designed to keep it dry, though how well this will prove to work has yet to be seen. He's not the only one here, though the pools aren't so crowded as they could be. Many of the Weyr's residents are busy with duties following lunch, after all. Just... not Tomic.

Edyis is less modest about changing than usual; custom overruled by a desire to be out of ichor spattered clothing that gets dumped into a dirty laundry bin. Edyis grabs the fresh towel soap and clothes and sinks into the warmest pool imaginable submerging completely before undoing her hair as an after thought. After she surfaces, she spots the Nanny with a pensive expression for a moment offering a nod of greeting.

Schuyler follows behind Edyis. He too is splattered with lizard ichor, but less squeamish about it. Despite that, he strips quickly and gets into a nearby pool. "Hey Tomic." he greets, having picked his pool to clean up in.

And in comes a horror show. Zadkiel's forearms and chest are splattered with gore, while the fingers of one hand are thoroughly soaked in ichor. He peels the tunic off with his mostly clean hand and drapes it over a shoulder while he works at his belt. He doesn't stop moving throughout this whole process, his path set for the edge of the baths nearest him - which is likely the same one that Edyis has chosen. He doesn't even bother with dropping his things off in the dirty clothes bin; that'll have to come later, once he's done. And for those along for the tunnelsnake adventure earlier, it's probably best not to ask where the head of the last beast ended up. In either case, the ritual of undressing and undoing his braid is swiftly done and he's soon in the water, sans towel but with soapsand to start the scrubbing process. A grunt of greeting is offered, but the former hunter is plainly focused on the task at hand.

Tomic... is not quite as easy about the ichor as Schuyler seems to be. The heel comes off the side of the pool, and hits the water with a splash as he backs up and away from the other three. "Wh- um." A big hand comes up to run over his hair, wet and sticking to his head. "Hey. Sky." Zadkiel gets a longer look. It's to Edyis that he tilts his head, quizzical, but the pan of his gaze suggests he's asking the lot of them, "What... happened to you guys?"

Schuyler smirks at Tomic's reaction to the gruesome group. "Tunnel snake hunting. Got some good ones to make for supper." he grins like this isn't gross and then he scrubbing at his hands, and legs apparently somehow the gunk got through his pants.

"Tunnelsnake hunting." Edyis answers grimly scrubbing her skin near raw working with a rapid ferocity. She still seems a little... off. "I've never...killed anything before." She says finally, as she scrubs. Still uncertain and uneasy about it.

That longer look will earn a better view of scarred flesh. Zadkiel's torso is riddled with scars of all sorts - and not all appear to be animal-made. Tomic's questioning is met with another grunt from the Igenite. A sidelong look is spared for the other young man but, with the answer having been provided, he says nothing. There's a funny little hum-grunt of assent for Schuyler's explanation, though. He occupies himself with the process of scrubbing, which requires extra attention to be paid to his fingers and nails. It's only when Edyis speaks that he looks over and intones, "You did well. As I said, the first is hard. It gets easier."

Tomic's look to Edyis turns a bit more sympathetic, and he nods slowly. "Guess if you're going to maybe have a dragon, that's... part of it, isn't it." The idea of it still sits uneasy, unknown, with him. It shows all over his face and all in his voice, clear as anything he does. The nanny does look at those scars of Zadkiel's, both in the initial glance, and then again after his words to Edyis. There's no sign of embarrassment about him, though his brow does knit a little bit. Sky is nearly forgotten, but not quite. "You have a recipe for that?" Interest helps ease his stomach, it seems. Or perhaps it's the disappearance of the gore.

Schuyler grins at the question. "I have a recipe for everything. and if I don't, I make one up." he dunks under the water to wet his hair and flicks it back out of his face as he comes up. "I like to experiment with different flavors." he adds. To Edyis, adding to Zak's comment, "Yeah you really did." then he's up and our of the water. "I have to get these back to the kitchens before they start to get sticky. Catch you guys later, k?" he's already striding across the cavern and pulling on some clean clothes.

Those dark eyes rest on the hunter when he speaks, brows drawn together, and Tomic's words too seem to be weighed and taken into account. "Yeah, but ... somehow doing it with your hands... feels different. Poor thing, it wasn't the clean death it should have been." Is she actually feeling pity for toothy vermin? She sinks beneath again, rinsing herself satisfied now that the ichor is mostly gone, starting to scrub at her hair. Watching Sky leave. "I guess if I impress, I have to... It isn't like I haven't seen dragon's hunt." She says to the Nanny and the Hunter.

"Plenty of ways to cook tunnelsnake," is Zadkiel's offering in the wake of Schuyler's departure. "Jerky. Stew. Roasted. Skewered." One shoulder rises and falls in a lopsided shrug. "Sometimes raw." His expression remains grim, well-matched to that deadpan utterance. True? False? No answers are forthcoming. A quick dunk underwater gets his hair soaked through and he starts to work the sand through it. He clicks his tongue at Edyis's words. "It's rarely clean the first time. The second will be better," and there is a weight of expectation there. This will happen again. "Better to get used to it, even if you don't Impress." His attention expands to include Tomic this time and he sucks his teeth thoughtfully. "Have you hunted?"

Tomic wrings his hands a little bit in the water as Edyis speaks, envisioning, imagining, with his eyes closing a little. "What do they taste like?" summons him back to reality. His hands stop working at each other, separating to lay flat across his belly. "No." It draws him up a bit straighter, answering Zadkiel. It makes his hands drop down into the water, away from his body, where they eventually are allowed to float so much as their own buoyancy wants them to. "Never had to, I guess. Helped prepare meat though, before."

"Does that mean you intend to make a proper hunter out of me?" Edyis asks, biting her lower lip a little, before exhaling. "Raw?" She asks dark eyes incredulous of the Igen hunter, but then she's studying those scars. "You should come next time Tomic. Unless they can't spare you from the Nurseries. How do you like candidacy?"

"Depends on the type," isn't terribly helpful and he knows it. "A lot like wherry. Not unpleasant." Zadkiel works another handful of sand through his hair and his attention shifts from Tomic to Edyis and back again. "We'll fix that," is more than a mere reassurance to Tomic; it might as well be a full oath. The weight of those words is allowed to sink in before his attentions return to Edyis. "A proper tunnelsnake hunter, if nothing else." Again with that one-shouldered shrug. Then: "Unless you want to try your hand at the bow." At the very least, his intentions are pure enough. Straightforward. The question is asked and, once again, he's looking to Tomic.

"Depends on the type," isn't terribly helpful and he knows it. "A lot like wherry. Not unpleasant." Zadkiel works another handful of sand through his hair and his attention shifts from Tomic to Edyis and back again. "We'll fix that," is more than a mere reassurance to Tomic; it might as well be a full oath. The weight of those words is allowed to sink in before his attentions return to Edyis. "A proper tunnelsnake hunter, if nothing else." Again with that one-shouldered shrug. No clarification on the raw tunnelsnake, either. That's for him to know. Then: "Unless you want to try your hand at the bow." At the very least, his intentions are pure enough. Straightforward. The question is asked and, once again, he's looking to Tomic. <fixed>

"It's..." And Tomic's face twists all up, and he reaches up to pass a wet hand over it. "I mean, being a candidate isn't all that different. I miss my kids, when they've got me doing other things, I guess." There's more there, that draws something on the young man's face, a complexity not usually there, and one that seems to confuse him. It's washed away, literally, with cupped hands and a splash of water. "You've got a bow?" And he pulls his arms back, stretching out his chest at the thought. "I could try that." He's headed back toward the edge of the pool, now.

Edyis tilts her head, watching the exchange between the two. "You do better in there than most, I heard they had a couple girls in there the other day who were pulling their hair out." She says of the nursery falling quiet, curious to see the outcome of Tomic's invitation.

There's just a low, thoughtful hnnnh of a sound for all of it. Zadkiel dips his chin in a shallow nod to Tomic at the last. "Next time we're out to hunt whersports, I'll find you." This offer is also made to Edyis when he cants a look her way, but it's most keenly directed to the retreating Tomic. He dunks under the water, then, and spents enough time down there to fully rinse his hair out before surfacing. As for the talk of children-tending? There's naught for him to say.

"I've got seven brothers and sisters," Tomic shrugs. His hands grip the edge of the pool, but he waits a moment before hefting himself up. The move for the towel is quick, and he wraps it around his waist rather than drying himself right off. "Okay. I guess you know where to find me, huh?" The scarred man earns a little nod, a bit wary, but interested, dark eyes staying on him a moment longer, if not in a way of familiarity. Edyis, he knows well enough to just grin at, now. "See you." And he turns, to find a quieter place to dry and dress before heading back to his tasks.

Edyis offers the nanny a smile, as he leaves. Before dark eyes return to her remaining companion, "It would be worth learning I imagine." She says of the bow and the rest, "How many turns have you been a hunter Zadkiel?"

And he settles in against the wall of the pool, taking his time to soak in the warmth. The question is worth a thoughtful snort of a sound and his head tips back, while his eyes roll just enough to catch Edyis in the very periphery of his sight. "Crossbow or long, I can teach both." That said, he's silent for a moment. Then: "My entire life. It's what I've always done. What my family's always done." His gaze shifts ceilingward. "It is good work. Purposeful." A beat. Two. Then: "What of you?"