Difference between revisions of "Logs:Blithely Intimate"

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 weather today is very pleasant. A few clouds chase each other across the mostly clear skies, and a soft breeze picks up in the afternoon to make for a fine day.

A nice day at home, and after some days spent aiding the Weyr with the round up and 'direction' of the rest of Rone's army sees Alida and Ilicaeth in the Bowl, the craggy blue doing some hunting for himself after eschewing any more romps outside, for the moment. As the blonde leans on the rails and watches in silence, her red-eyed lifemate sizes up his chosen prey from farther above, with an eye towards the herdbeasts.

Not that weyrlings necessarily need observation for feeding, but given that they haven't been gliding all that long... there are some more apt to be observed than others. Telavi's not so much herding as tagging along, Solith already present on a nearby ledge and looking longingly, so longingly upon the spooked beasts.

For assistant weyrlingmasters charged with tagging along and keeping an eye on things, and those blueriders who just happen to be there as well, there's bound to be entertainment because Teisyth is with the group of weyrling dragons come to feed. G'laer lets one of the others open the gate and the corner of his mouth twitches when Teisyth tears through the gap, cutting off one of her blue brethren with a « YAHOO! » that echoes in the nearby receptive dragon minds. Rather than glide, she gallops right in and into the thick of things. G'laer's movements are much more controlled and sedate as he moves toward the fence, nodding a greeting to the blonde already there.

Let the kids and Solith look on: Ilicaeth's concentrating on 'hunt and kill,' and even as Alida's eyes narrow in empathetic concentration, the blue's swooping down in an air-cupping curl of eye-marked wings and cutting his chosen bull out from the panicky herd. But he's not reaching with tooth or talon to slaughter the beast, this time. Oh no, that'd be too easy...and he's in a bit of a 'mood.' Instead, the dusty dragon hovers in place with mighty wing beats for a few moments...and bellows directly at his bawling food item. Whether Teisyth or any of the other, younger Weyrlings get in the way of that is up to them and fate...but the herdbeast suddenly freezes, then twitches, and then finally keels over...dead on the spot from a coronary caused by fear. Cue Ilicaeth's click of razor teeth together, a soft chuff, and his moving about, the blue quickly landing nearby to stalk towards his upcoming meal. By this time, Alida's grinning like a madwoman at her dragon's chosen technique, finally looking over towards the approaching junior weyrlingmaster and G'laer, offering both a definite nod of head and a smirk before returning her gaze back to her lifemate.

A little cocky pride, and some gritty humor swirl in sandy puffs. « Dayumn, I'm somethin' else. » One razor-toothed 'Alida-grin' is offered to both greens. (To Solith and Teisyth from Ilicaeth)

The littler green gets sparkles of sunshine from Solith, who leans further out, talons curving around the ledge. It would be so easy to have a snack herself. So easy to-- but it's loud! She fluffs her wings, and, « Careful with the little ones, » isn't just directed to Ilicaeth at all. Telavi, meanwhile, has slowed her progress to the pens to instruct a couple of the other weyrlings, "Don't try it. Seriously. Don't even. Ilicaeth's special," or at least that's the story she's telling.

Just as the blue's chosen herdbeast starts to fall, Teisyth pops out of the throng of beasts, pouncing it with comic fervor. Of course, with Ilicaeth having killed it, her pounce lands, though it involves a roll for misjudged distance and a scramble back over to the beast before she's perched upon it, head snaked down and buckteeth slobbering on the neck in a matter of heartbeats. Apparently, she didn't understand what Ilicaeth meant, or even that this is his dinner, because, proudly, « LOOK! I done killed it with one pounce! » For once G'laer is speechless, but has a word anyway: "Uh." He looks uncertainly to Telavi and then to Alida, a touch of apology in his otherwise bland expression.

« Yeah yeah... Just make sure they stay outta my way, too... » Ilicaeth notes casually back to his 'sister' as he lands, then stalks over to his kill, the blue avoiding any little squirts in the pens with him while he also makes a beeline to the dead bull. Hungry-hungry is the pulse of his thoughts and the quick whirl of red eyes, but he's not base enough to ignore a few niceties...like not trampling the littles. And then there's a rusty runt on his kill? Scrambling, slobbering Teisyth gets a 'look' from the hungry adult, who continues striding right up to his dead animal until he's looking down-down on the baby green. Grumble. « Kid...get offa' my food. » It's not angry of even much upset. But the blue's soft hint of a scouring, baritone growl is no-nonsense, firm, and a bit possessive. And if G'laer's at a loss for words, Alida's happy to insert her own, her low alto noting a little tightly aside to the weyrling, "His kill. Call 'er off." A few blinks out at her patiently-waiting lifemate prelude a muttered, "He's not pissed...but he expects 'er ta respect the order."

Telavi's coming up quickly, but-- "What? What did I miss," only all of a sudden it becomes a delighted laugh as she makes it to the pair. "She didn't. Really?" And then, her face falling-- it's the rumble, even before Alida's evidently-overheard comment, "Fine. I'll support that. It's too bad, really," but her tone implies it's the way of the world, or at least the pecking order. Solith's busy pointing out, « They are still learning to stay out of your way. » Evidently.

There's confusion. His kill? But, no, she pounced it and killed it, right? She really does think so. This must be one of the moments where Teisyth's feelings show themselves especially strongly in her lifemate's mind because there's confusion on his face. G'laer has to close his eyes and he even has to shift his weight, a slight waver in his stance as his mind is hit with the strength of her feeling. Then it's a matter of sorting what is her and her experiences with what he saw, with what he knows, and what Alida's telling him. His expression is perturbed when he opens his eyes and steps forward to the fence, eyes locked squarely on the little green. She creels, first looking to Ilicaeth and then to G'laer. The man's fingers find a piece of fence to wrap around, without being conscious of the movement and his hands tighten. She creels again, this time looking at G'laer then at Ilicaeth, but at least she's not slobbering on the carcass anymore. And then she's up and running for the gate, tumbling, tripping, rolling, getting up and running more. And abruptly G'laer is brushing past Telavi to meet her. What is going on? It's anyone's guess.

To Solith, the patient blue swirls a gritty, « Why d'ya think I didn't round on 'er, like I woulda with an older weyrling? » He's not irked, really, just long-suffering and slightly offended by Teisyth's lack of proper respect. Still, once she's off of his kill, the adult dragon's not a putz. Ilicaeth dips down, rips off a decent-sized hunk of rump off the dead beast, and paces it over to the retreating little green, placing it on the ground beside her (and nearby G'laer, likely) before moving back to his kill to begin eating hungrily. Alida's looking between her lifemate, Telavi, and G'laer at this point, the silent and paler blonde watching the weyrling-guard's internal battle with thoughtful, maybe even understanding eyes while murmuring over to Telavi, "He wants respect...but 'e's not an ass ta the littles, either." Ilicaeth, that is.

Confusion is confusing, at least there; Telavi's brows draw in, and her glance at Solith doesn't seem to be of much help-- but then they're headed for each other: that's the important thing. "Suppose not," she murmurs to Alida, but her gaze is roving again, after G'laer, after the other weyrlings who are staring-- actually, that at least she can do something immediately about, and Tela marches off to do just that. Even if they do sneak peeks while their own lifemates get to feeding, staying well clear of Ilicaeth all the while. One lesson's learned!

Teisyth is too wound up in whatever feelings are going on inside her to recognize the rump for what it is as Ilicaeth easily overtakes her and makes the donation. She dodges it as if it were an obstacle instead of food, the odd jump to the side surprisingly graceful, especially in comparison to the galumphing that goes on when she tries to run a straight (ish) line toward the gate. G'laer beats her to it, but only because Teisyth has more than just the rump donation from Ilicaeth to dodge, and he pulls the gate back in time for the green to burst through it, the man hauling it quickly closed as the dragonet skids and then comes round to (slightly slower) run back to G'laer and plaster herself against his side, inexplicably shaking. G'laer gives the other weyrlings reason to stare as he drops to a crouch and his hands find the dragon's face, just holding it where she can look at him. He, at least, seems to be starting to pull himself back together from whatever bizarre episode he just internally experienced. For the moment, at least, all else seems to be forgotten in the wake of calming the distressed dragonet.

Ilicaeth's concentrating on easing his hunger out there, the heardbeast already near-half consumed while Teisyth and G'laer have their little 'pow-wow.' Alida's simply remaining quiet, giving both weyrlings ample chance to get their marbles back together, especially since Teisyth's apparently glued to G'laer's leg, right now. It's only after a little time's passed, and the blue's finishing up his first kill that the woman - who now watches Telavi step off to deal with another weyrling pair having a bit of trouble - murmurs aside to her fellow guard, "It c'n be...pretty overwhemlin'... I know."

It does take time for G'laer to get Teisyth reasonably calmed and then convinced to return to the feeding grounds. The last is only obvious because he does murmur aloud, "You'll be hungry if you don't." This argument wins out, but it takes time for her to concede hunger is the worse consequence. So with the gate opened and the green returned, though her movements shier and more hesitant than before, G'laer's blue gaze turns to the blonde, acknowledging her murmur as he shuts the gate with a slight jerk to his chin. It's not necessarily agreement, but acknowledgement. He stares out at the killing field, watching Teisyth reach for one, and then another, brows furrowing. He doesn't seem to have the words to make answer to Alida's, so he just remains silent, body too stiff still.

She remembers how difficult her own weyrlinghood was, and doesn't unduly bother either of the greenpair, Alida simply observing Teisyth - and at times G'laer - and Ilicaeth hunt down their own kills. If the little green isn't going to eat his peace offering, the adult blue's not going to let a nice haunch go to waste, and he moves over to snarf it up...while also giving a soft rumble to the pair of humans at the fence. And while Teisyth's practicing her new skills at hunting, the blue demostrates his own brand of respect, waiting for her and the other 'kids' to glean their own meals before he paces off and alights onto dusky air to hunt his second. It's finally after this somewhat protracted amount of time that the blonde inquires quietly, "What's she like?" He does 'owe' her that explanation, after their previous meeting in the tunnels.

Most likely, Teisyth doesn't remember the peace offering is there or was offered to her. She's guileless and likely doesn't snub the offering intentionally. Truly, she's not a bad hunter in her own right, though entirely graceless. It's like watching a farmer wrestle a porcine, the way she pounces and rolls and tries to wrangle a beast to the ground. And after a time, some of the shyness fades away because she gets distracted by the fun of hunting. And then the yums of eating. By the end, she's covered in dirt, blood, and probably animal droppings, but she seems oblivious. G'laer watches, his tension slowly easing as Teisyth's feelings shift, but he's not in any hurry to break the silence. Still, after the question, and a moment to find the words, he offers them. "Warm." It's the first, but maybe not the best. "Enthusiastic. Full of energy. More'n she knows what to do with. Curious. Simple and so complex at the same time. She wants to be everybody's friend. Hasn't met a dragon she doesn't like so far. Maybe-..." He trails off his eyes briefly coming to Alida's face and then to the ground. "Maybe not as smart as some. But wise in her own way. Sometimes." There might be more but he stops there for the moment.

There's some little smirks and a few honest hints of smiles at Teisyth's hunting out there, but at least Alida looks like she's having a decent time while watching the little green and her fellow weyrlings. Once Ilicaeth's nabbing himself a rather large wherry in the more typical, tooth and claw manner - the woman's body arching a little, and shivering softly for a few moments in her empathy with her dragon's killing lust - she soon relaxes again, and nods quietly to her fellow 'rider's' words of his own lifemate. Again, murmured low, "Maybe kinda' opposite uv 'her lifemate?" Beat. "But well-matched, all the same." A soft bit of a warm smile lingers on her mouth for talk of dragons, greens lifting from grounded-blues and sighting on the landing, and now feeding Ilicaeth once again. "Lotsa' brains don't matter, as long as she's got some common sense, a good heart, loyalty."

G'laer turns his head to look at the blonde when she suggests the opposites theory. A single brow arches and in deadpan delivery, "Are you saying I'm not a cuddly ball of fun, Alida?" It's asked in the way one might ask one of the recently released guest/prisoners, 'Are you saying Rone was dead when the riders arrived?' Then a moment later, "Common sense sometimes puts in an appearance, though maybe that's because she's got too much of the others sometimes." There might be the slightest trace of fondness in his tone, but maybe it's the imagination that puts it there.

"Sounds about as likely as you suggestin' I'm laid-back..." Alida ripostes blandly while looking out on Ilicaeth's eating, the woman's lips then curling a little when G'laer speaks of bouts of that common sense sometimes afflicting his little green. "Try givin' 'er time. Still a squirt." As for other draconic 'tendencies,' "Their...devotion... It's kinda... Well, pretty damned intense, at times." The layers of subtle meaning in her somewhat hesitant words might speak volumes to her fellow guard: devotion equals love, intense/overwhemling, and 'sometimes' being near always. "How's Quinlys treatin' ya?"

"You're not laid back." The 'let me get this straight' is unspoken but evident in the subtle timbre of the tone that implies something akin to betrayal. Like her being laid back has been an act this whole time and he's just now realizing. G'laer watches the dragons a moment then, rather that touching on the subject of love, draconic or any other kind, he moves onto the question about the Weyrlingmaster. "Fine. We were 'brats together here in the Weyr." So there's some history there.

The rather over-obviously bland expression Alida turns upon G'laer at his own loaded statement - her greens dancing only a fraction within their sockets - only seems to back up the blonde's drab, "Do tell." When word of Quin and his own former weyrbrat status comes up, a small shift towards curious intensity comes over the bluie, leading her to note, "She much like she was then?"

"I don't much know her now," For all that they're going into their fourth month of weyrlinghood, "-to know if she's the same or different. Might be able to answer that better come the end of weyrlinghood. And we were never close when we were young. She always had a bunch of friends around her, seemed like. I kept to the books and the adults mostly." Shocker, surely, that G'laer who is always so serious didn't buddy up with the kids his own age.

"Mm..." is all the still poker-faced Alida responds with when G'laer offers his very few insights, though the woman does allow her mouth to smirk just a fractional bit when the Weyrlingmaster's social butterfly tendencies are spoken of. "Sounds familiar..." is murmured with some remembrance of her own ways in childhood, the blonde soon crossing her arms loosely over the top rail of the fence, and lightly applying her forehead to the top forearm. Out beyond them, Ilicaeth belches over his latest mouthful. To the cool air before her bowed head is murmured, "I ain't very good at this blithe conversation thing."

There's a simple nod to acknowledge Alida's words about familiarity. Teisyth is winding down her rending and one beast is plenty for the growing green (though it won't always be so). G'laer watches his lifemate, unflinching. "Does the conversation have to be blithe? Is that what we were going for?" His eyes turn to land on Alida's face, searching her expression. "If so, asking me what my dragon's like doesn't really count. It's sort of an intimate thing, you know." There's a very slight edge of teasing to his tone and the one side of his lips pull into his half-smirk.

Ilicaeth has much more bulk to stoke, and the blue leaves behind only proto-feathers and the largest bones, beak of his former wherry to suddenly glide and pounce upon a herdbeast calf that's strayed too near. His weight alone crushes the life out of the beast, which is quickly enough devoured in tandem with his human's small smirk, turn of head towards, and answer to G'laer of, "Nope. Matter u' fact, I don't tend ta' do tea talk." That expression of hers is uncomplicated, for once, almost relaxed, and perhaps vaguely smiling. After a moment for thought, the blonde can't help but smirking again, then noting almost glibly, "What about 'er up-'n-coming rider?" Yeah, like that will ever get a straight answer.

G'laer might be amused; the smirk is still there at any rate. Even as he asks, "What about him?" The rider. Himself. What is it she wants to know?

"What's he like?" Alida chimes in smoothly, one of her cheeks now resting upon that top forearm as she looks over at her fencemate with some humor. "Oh, I get the whole Guard thing, believe me." Smirk. "Anything else uv interestin' note about this guy?"

"Mm." G'laer contemplates the question. It doesn't fall into the category of blithe conversation either. "He's complicated. And simple." He's silent again then, but it's a searching silence as he watches Teisyth trying to clean up the mess she's made, covering blood patches over with dirt and tamping them down with her tail. Then, "He's not very good at explaining what he's like." It might be a cop out, but maybe he's trying to make it not one by offering, "He lied to be a candidate." He looks to the woman now, evenly offering his candid gaze. "About his age. He was too old. But wanted the chance." His eyes turn back to the green before he adds, "He doesn't regret it." With resolve. Then, with a coloring of humor, "Yet, anyway."

She listens with most of her attention, though a second, louder, rogue belch by her now full blue - as well as Teisyth's attempts to cover her trail of destruction - are reasons for Alida to snicker into her arm for a few moments. A few small nods give G'laer decent indication of said attention, and only a faint lofting of one brow is all the blonde offers for those words of his lying, as well as a muted, "Can't say I blame ya." Shrug. "I don't think most riders regret it..." is added in, though the words instantly have her brow clouding with dark tension for a moment before she clears her expression of it. Quietly, "Does 'e lie about non-work shit?"

"If there's a compelling reason to do so. He prefers not to lie when it can be avoided." Which is not to say that he doesn't willingly omit things. G'laer offers her his gaze again as he makes this answer. "Life comes with secrets, sometimes. And he has trouble separating work from the rest of his life. Work has been his life for fifteen turns." Teisyth doesn't seem to think the belching odd, or maybe not even noteworthy, but then... bodily functions and the humor that goes with it and Teisyth do go hand in hand most of the time. Besides, there's another spot of blood that needs tending to just to her right, so that's where her focus stays.

More listening...and more understanding come from Alida, the blonde actually managing to not only nod, but smile quietly, even chuckle knowingly to the various things G'laer has to share with her. Looking out to their dragons once again, the woman notes quietly, "Kinda' surprised this guy's willin' ta share that." Long pause, murmur... "Takes guts." Maybe more than she currently has. And finally Ilicaeth's done with dinner, the blue now grooming his claws, mouth while he sometimes watches Teisyth's grounds-keeping with blue-whirling eyes that - if they were human - might shout humor. Slowly standing from her lean on the fence, stretching her back out, Alida heaves a large sigh, looks back to the weyrling again, murmurs, "Buy you a drink as soon as ya c'n have one again."

"There's no compelling reason to lie about it." Or apparently to not answer. G'laer has a quick answer for the offer, "We can have a drink. One." Beat. "Only." He looks to Teisyth who's meandering toward the gate now, apparently satisfied with her landscaping efforts. Of course, there are things to smell and sometimes lick along the way... It's not a quick path. "Only, something happens when I drink now. To her." He actually shudders slightly at the memory of it. "So I might let you buy me a juice instead." Boooring.

"One's better'n none..." Alida notes around a small smirk, her greens slipping from the weyrling's blues to meandering Teisyth, then back to G'laer again. With his next words comes a small quirk of pale head, then a look of intent concentration when the big man shudders. "She get all freaked out?" is inquired cautiously, the woman then shrugging at that 'juice.' Whatever Teisyth can handle.

"Not... freaked out, exactly." G'laer answers, though a touch reluctant. He glances back toward the green now bonking her head into the gate, waiting to be let out, too small, as yet, to glide over the fence. She's special, this one. "It's-- oh, for Faranth's sake." He turns toward the gate, only managing to remember, "Excuse me," as an after thought once he's already walking toward it and away from the other bluerider. Answers will have to wait.

With each bonk, « G'laer! » Bonk. « G'laer! » Bonk. « G'laer! » Bonk. « G'laer! » Bonk. Etc. (Teisyth to G'laer)

"Aw man... She gets loopy..." Alida notes around a sudden toothy grin, the woman then looking between the now gate/head-bonking little green and her reluctant, hurrying weyrling. "Enjoy!" the woman calls even as she shakes her head, snickers, and moves off... Ilicaeth chuffing his own form of laughter as he flaps his way up out of the pens.