Logs:One Way
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| RL Date: 14 May, 2007 |
| Who: P'draig, Ilya, Zahava |
| Involves: Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Some weyrling and weyrlingmaster interaction, of baby dragons and eating, or not eating. |
| Where: Feeding Grounds, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 3, Month 1, Turn 12 (Interval 10) |
Nestled in the southwestern end of the oval-shaped Bowl, this grassy field provides quite a contrast from the unremarkable dirt ground found elsewhere around it. These are the pastures for the herdbeasts which feed the inhabitants of Fort Weyr. The peaceful lake shore from which the herdbeasts drink runs east, where the sandy shore allows for swimming and relaxing, and curves to the south. The western most portion of the lake is fenced off, to keep the herdbeasts separated from bathing dragons, and is reachable to the south. The bowl stretches far to the northeast, nearly 2 miles long. The weyrling barracks lie a north of here. Immediately to the west, next to the cliffs, are pens in which the herdbeasts are kept. It's cold out and the Weyrlingmaster's breath steams in the chilly air as he calls out to the assembling Weyrlings. "All right, for some of you this is old hat now, for some of you the first time. Today instead of chopped up meat, your dragons will get to hunt down something alive in the feeding grounds. Keep an eye on them for straining too hard and over-eating, otherwise, just let them do their thing!" Jekzith's been waiting for some signal from P'draig and when the WEyrlingmaster nods, the brown launches himself into the air above the feeding grounds. He does a lazy circle of the area, effectively herding the beasts into a clump, hovers in place, taking his time to choose then arrows downward onto the back of a hapless herdbeast, dispatching it neatly with a snap of jaws to the back of its neck. Illya is more excited than her slow walk across the bowl could ever have hinted at. But for some reason Azath isn't excited at all. In fact, quite the opposite. While she sits and listens happily to the introduction, she turns her back the minute Jekzith launches and stays that way till well after the resounding snap from the brown's kill. P'draig leans on the fence, looking at the Weyrlings and dragonets rather than Jekzith who is by now busily eating. "So it's up to your dragons how they choose to actually chase the prey and then drop to catch it. Jekzith likes to make it go quick, without much fuss. But that's just one way." He waves a nonchalant hand behind him towards the panorama of Jekzith eating. There's some blanching among some of the Weyrlings at the sight of draconic hunting, but most are nodding and conferring with their dragons and shortly Sperth and Blyth take off to join Jekzith, trying out this new technique. The Weyrlingmaster eyes Azath with some concern however, at the definitely turned back. Illya nudges Azath. The human part of the pairing seems to have no problems with the blood and mess, she watching the others quite carefully especially their reactions to the carnage, but Azath stays resolutely looking the other direction. Eventually, reluctantly, Illya raises a hand. "We... we have a small problem here, sir." P'draig detaches himself from the fence and moves through the collected body of Weyrlings also now leaning there are standing nearby watching as more dragonets leap into the fray. "What's up Illya?" inquires the Weyrlingmaster, brows raised and he eyes Azath's resolutely presented back again. Behind him in the Feeding Grounds, Jekzith looks up, muzzle reddened and he does a spot job of licking his chops then leaps lightly out of the grounds, leaving the heardbeast only partially eaten. One of the lazier brown dragonets takes advantage of this lapse to take over the corpse without actually felling his own beast. Ciath comes in from near the Weyrling barracks. Zahava comes in from near the Weyrling barracks. Illya detatches herself from Azath's side and crosses the last of the distance between herself and P'draig. Beckoning him closer she whispers, "She says she's not going to do it. It's not nice and she'd rather go sit by the herb garden just now if you don't mind." Illya, at least, has the decency to look embarassed. "Is that normal?" P'draig's brows rise a few inches at Illya's murmured remark. "Er ... she's not hungry?" the rider tries to understand. Zahava and Ciath's approach earns a look and a nod of acknowledgement and maybe even a hint of relief. Outside the Feeding Grounds, Ciath waits until Jenna and Zahava have moved away in their opposite directions before launching into the air and winging out over the feeding grounds. Her rider, with a bit of a head start, is not far behind, stepping into the grounds, but not encroaching too closely on Illya and P'draig, saluting the latter, and nodding to the former without looking at her too long. The other Weyrlings continue to cluster by the fence, the grounds awash with the colors of at least five dragonets chasing down herdbeasts and wherries. Illya nods, then shakes her head. Behind her Azath's tail flicks once, head tilting up towards Ciath for a moment, before she goes back to the same stubborn posture as before. "She is, but...." She trails off, glancing towards Zahava for a moment, then taking a few steps away from her and beckoning P'draig to follow her. "She says she won't do it that way though. She thinks it's cruel." "What way? Breaking the creature's neck?" asks P'draig, tagging after Illya, though he's also making what he probably intends as meaningful looks Zahava's way just as Jekzith lands not too far away, crooning softly towards Azath. Jekzith> Ciath senses that Jekzith mournfully, « She does not want to eat » Jekzith> Azath senses that Jekzith carefully, « What's wrong Azath? Aren't you hungry? There are good beasts to be caught. » Azath bespoke Jekzith with « I won't. » Azath seems firm on this. « I'm not mean like that, I won't hurt them. How would you like it if someone sat on you and made you go crunch? » » Zahava takes the meaningful looks with a puzzled expression. She glances up at Ciath who circles once, then glides down to a much neater landing nearby than many she's managed so far. The woman looks towards Azath and her forhead furrows curiously. Illya nods again, casting another glance over at Zahava, then back to P'draig. "I knew it. I have a defective dragon. It's not normal is it." Unintentionally her voice has risen from the whisper of before, but luckily Azath seems distracted enough to not take her comments as an insult. Jekzith> Azath senses that Jekzith is startled by this reaction. « This is how we eat, Azath ... » There's puzzlement in Jekzith's gentle sending. « It tastes good. Feels good to chase and catch. » Almost as an afterthought: « No one could sit on me and make me go crunch. Maybe a queen would be big enough. But they wouldn't do that. » Jekzith senses that Ciath's attention focuses for a moment, surprise registering, then turns towards the little green. « I will see why, » she asserts. P'draig is even more taken aback by this reaction. "Er ... no I don't think she's defective, we just need to figure out what's troubling her. Others have voiced some ... preference about eating." Carefully he says that, with another look towards Zahava and Ciath. Jekzith> I bespoke Ciath with « I have already asked her. But ... mine says that you had some preference about eating? » Jekzith senses that Azath pouts mentally « Ciath has a fat tail, she could make you go crunch. I'd rather eat in the barracks. » Jekzith> Azath senses that Jekzith sounds very puzzled now. « You want your beasts to run around in the Barracks? » He visualizes a herd stampeding around making a mess in the Barracks. Azath bespoke Jekzith with « No!» Azath replies in kind, an image of a nice juicy steak. « They have nasty feet. » Zahava blinks at the words overheard, hesitating a moment, then she approaches hesitantly. "Ciath wouldn't hunt the first time, either," she speaks up. Ciath's attention shifts between Azath and Jekzith, head tilting one way and then the other. Jekzith senses that Ciath's tone turns bewildered, « Not like this. She doesn't like their feet. I just don't like them squished. » Illya's reply to Zahava is laced with thinly veiled sarcasm, "Oh well that makes it all better." Her gaze drifts over to Azath whose tail is now flicking angrily from side to side. "She's not listening." Like dragon, like rider. Jekzith> Azath senses that Jekzith utter confusion emanates from Jekzith, but he's still listening and trying to understand. « You want /their/ food? » P'draig clears his throat and says one word, quietly, a warning. "Illya." And nods at Zahava. "Exactly, see she's not the only one. It's a bit of a switch going from being fed to hunting. If she's not quite ready it's okay to wait a few days. It's just that she'll need to eventually: there's no way you can keep up with the meat a dragon her size is going to start needing." Jekzith senses that Azath's touch fades for a moment, then returns tinged with angry red. « I want to eat in the barracks. I will not crunch them. » Zahava's jaw tightens slightly at Illya's reply, but she only nods slightly, not offering up any further verbal response, tugging her scarf up over her chin and folding her arms. Jekzith> Azath senses that Jekzith takes a firmer tone now. « Calm yourself. You can still eat in the barracks for a little while longer, but you can't not eat forever. Your rider won't be able to feed you when you get bigger. It's too much food. » Azath bespoke Jekzith with « We'll manage. And I won't turn grey. And my talons are staying firmly attached. » Illya's hands curl slightly as she makes a conscious effort to not snap. "Why does she think her talons will fall out? Who told her that? It's not nice to lie to her like that. She's too little to hunt, that's all." P'draig blinks in surprise. "What?" and he looks around, befuddled suddenly. "Jekzith didn't say that." Jekzith> Azath senses that Jekzith is soothing now, his sending infused with calming blues. « Of course not! Everything will be fine. We'll work on this another time. It will be all right. It's just a shame, because it's a lot of fun, at least, I think so. Anyway. It will be all right. » Zahava glances towards Ciath, and then flushes. For a moment, she's quiet, and then she says, "Er, that was Ciath. One of... one of the other dragons told her that when she wouldn't hunt the other day. I didn't know. But she says she told Azath." The look Illya gives Zahava is one of pure hatred. Her right hand clenches tighter, nails digging into the plam of her hand. "I think." She speaks slowly, choosing her words very carefully before saying them, "I think we need to go back to the barracks please, sir. She's getting /Very/ upset." P'draig looks between the two Weyrlings and his nostrils pinch just a little. "Please do take Azath back to the Barracks Illya. Zahava, I need to know who said that about Ciath's talons so we can get this sorted out. I'll be making an announcement later this evening, make sure you're both back at the Barracks before the dinner hour for that." The brownrider's expression has gotten just a little stormy and he moves off to check in with the others and dismisses the class for the time being. |
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