Logs:Hunting Details
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| RL Date: 13 November, 2015 |
| Who: T'gar, Telavi |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Asaroth attempts to hunt while Rat and Tela touch on many subjects. |
| Where: Feeding Grounds, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 8, Month 4, Turn 39 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: K'del/Mentions, Quinlys/Mentions, C'ris/Mentions, V'ret/Mentions, L'ton/Mentions, K'zin/Mentions, N'klas/Mentions |
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| It's cool weather that finds T'gar out and about his with his lifemate charge. Asaroth is in the pens and in the process of awkwardly chasing down a small beast he can eat while the weyrling looks on from outside. There's a couple other weyrlings letting their dragons hunt as well, and they seem to be doing a better job of it than the bronze is at the moment. Rat seems to notice with a grimace lingering on his face and his muscled arms folded across his chest as he watches and keeps apart from the ongoing flow of conversations. Khajith certainly is going gangbusters, renewing his habit of leaping onto the beast and letting it carry him for a few staggering steps before at last it collapses to the ground. As he twists to gnaw his poor victim's head off, Telavi-- also watching from outside the fence-- turns away with a wrinkle of her nose, and ambles towards the big weyrling. "What do you think?" "I think I'll be doomed to cut Asaroth's meat for the rest of my natural-born life," T'gar answers, his gaze briefly falling on Khajith in the throes of hunting. Nodding towards that one, "It should be instinctual. I don't know what mine is trying to do." Well, right now his is trying to corral his chosen meal into a corner of the pen with little success. "I believe you will," Telavi agrees, a little too sadly. "Or really, we'll just convince Solith to keep killing for him, the way Rasavyth did," no difficult maneuver given how the green in question is currently preening the blood off her chest and claws, all too happy to remind the weyrlings what to do. She follows his glance to Khajith, though, with a faint dimple, "Pretty soon your boy will be big enough to just step on it if he's fast enough. How does it feel in his head? What's he telling you?" "Dragons always kill food for each other?" Rat's looking at Telavi with a little skepticism. Asaroth takes a swipe at the beast with his mouth, and it's a near-miss with his angular body being uncoordinated. "He might," he says on Asaroth getting that big. "He did manage to kill a couple of times already, but it's few and far between. I'm getting tired of asking if any of what he does is considered normal, so I won't." Pause. "Other than the smell of hunger, and a new smell that I'm taken to mean he's into the hunt, he's been pretty silent," he tells her as he watches his bronze. "Well. He said ' Food ' earlier." "You all think she's all nice and sweet and pretty, but no, she likes to kill things," as dragons do, Telavi says with a sniff. "What if... oh, that was a close one!" But still, no blood. "If his reflexes were faster, that would be nice. And a word! That's good. Have you tried pushing the smells back again? Or some sort of... strategy idea... ish?" "Your Solith?" T'gar appears amused, atleast briefly. "Was she quick to hunt, too, when it was her time? How did she really fare?" He looks back in time to see Asaroth finally grab a fleeing leg with his mouth and wrench the poor creature back towards him. "I see Zoth and Ruiyath and they're pretty proportioned," he notes as he nods at something his bronze has finaly succeeded in doing. "You could be right about the reflexes. I have tried pushing his smells back, or closing it off completely. He thinks I'm ignoring him that way. I have other ideas I'm going to try though. He's been probing into my head lately, digging. I might use that to my advantage." Another sniff. "Yes, her," of course her. "She was good. A speeding arrow of doom," Telavi says with a sigh. "You know, you don't just have to compare him to bronzes." While she's at it, though, "What do you mean, use it to your advantage?" Snickering, "Is she the same now?" T'gar asks wryly. "All that she was then while in weyrlinghood?" Pause. "I should compare him to....." his look is anticipatory, though not insolent. Asaroth, having gotten the leg, now wrestles with his frightened live meal. It could almost be comical, the way it's happening. Telavi's last gets a pensive, "He's digging now to probably go through my memories. He's bound to have questions, right? Maybe this will get him to talk more, if I entice him with certain memories. I'm noticing the older he gets, the less aloof he's being, though, it's been a slow process." "To any of them. Look at the proportions, like you said. Solith... oh, I don't know. I suppose she's much the same? " Telavi catches herself mid-sniff again and has to quickly say, just in case, "That was nothing like a cold-noise. I don't have a cold." Or a plague that sounds like a cold. "I like your idea of enticing him. But just letting him root through your head like that? Ugh. How do you stand it?" The sniff. T'gar doesn't think nothing of it, it seems, his gaze lingering on Asaroth as he drags that beast around like a rag doll, up until Telavi mentions a cold. Blue eyes cut to her quickly right then with a frown and a, "You've been out in those areas recently? Boll? Fort?" Oh, he's calm despite the questioning. Still, on his bronze rooting through his head, he grimaces as he answers with, "I don't like it, but what choice do I have right now? At least he hasn't been like the others, asking me questions. He just digs in this heavy silence, and I can tell through the smell what he thinks of what he discovers. I'm waiting for the boot to drop and he suddenly gets chatty enough to berate me over something I've done in my childhood." Then, curious, "Do you block Solith from digging in your head?" he asks. "No," looking at T'gar as though he were mad. "Ugh, no." Telavi shudders at the mere thought. "I hear they've been dropping like vtols; it's awful. My friends are more in Weyrs, but... still." Telavi, question-asker here and now, skims right past all those others; "'Berate.' Also-ugh. Solith..." Telavi hesitates, then finds distraction to yell over to one of the weyrlings, "No, you can't just leave the parts you don't like. Tell him to eat the whole thing!" Back to T'gar, putting her hands on the top rail of the fence and leaning on it, "Of course I do. If I didn't, she'd want to all the time, and then where would we be. But you could try giving him something innocuous, something you don't care as much about?" "Yeah, I was hearing from the Weyrleader," Rat says on the plague deaths, shaking his head. "This thing looks to be gaining speed. Have to consider what to do if were to come this far." He turns to watch who Telavi tells off with open amusement, but by the time she turns back to him, his attention is back to the struggling bronze that finally manages to clamp down on the beast's throat. "I've been thinking of doing that, yeah," he agrees to giving Asaroth something innocuous. I guess I've been lucky that he hasn't shown much interest in such things until recently. I think he's gotten it down now," he nows voices his observations, nodding towards his bronze. "You, and the Weyrleader?" At least, though Telavi does sound surprised, it's not in a bad way. She shudders again-- plague!-- and leans further into the fence, so her arms can pinch protectively in toward her body. "Mm. Good luck with it. And-- good! That's wonderful. I was thinking, too: we could try roping a beast in place, tie it to the fence, and give him more and more play in the rope each time so he gets used to it." From the way Telavi makes it sound, Rat is quick to say, "Well, I happened to be in doing some work in the records when he came in, and we talked. Looks like this plague-thing's getting really serious. He doesn't think the Weyr should quarantine just yet." And then, she gives an idea for hunting that has the weyrling giving it some thought as he watches his bronze, the young man slow to nod before he puts to words, "We can try that. Next time he needs to feed, and see if that will help. Should've thought of that." Looking at her now, "How long have you been teaching weyrlings?" he asks her. And it hasn't, but that look Tela gives him and her quick smile is a distinct 'well done.' At the very least, complaints haven't come down from on high, after all! "I... don't know! I don't know when's the last time anyone asked me, either. Five, six, no, six Turns," she confirms with a flip of her ponytail. "It's Quinlys, you know." T'gar is snickering again, just a bit - there's marked lightness or relief to his muscled frama now that Asaroth finally has his food and is tearing into the beast's flesh with relish. "Six turns," he nods to that. "Almost as long as Quinlys." Yes, it's clear he's been asking questions and gathering information. "Mmm, no, or not really; she taught our class, after all." Co-taught, but Tela isn't counting. She dimples up at him; "See yourself doing it yourself, someday? Molding the minds of the innocent?" Looking out at the other dragons feasting in the pens now, "She taught your class, huh? That's interesting." T'gar looks over to that dimpled look and gives a low laughter in return, and it's a lingering moment before he answers her with, "Let's not get ahead of ourselves, now. All I'm looking to do right now is survive and get along with my dragon. Might not be a good idea, putting me in a place to mold minds like my own, but, anything could be possible. I don't want Quinlys' job, and, I intend to woo her someday beyond all this, once I can get her used to my charming way," because he has some, see. "But, who knows? I like keeping my options open. Keeping doors unlocked with knobs easy enough to twist." "Details," Telavi tosses that away with, right up until, "Woo her? Between you and C'ris, I'd like to see-- No! Get off that right now, and go and practice ten times just like we talked about," she instructs the unlucky weyrling who, luckily for T'gar, is not T'gar. Worse, "No dessert for you tonight," She flashes a terribly toothy smile at T'gar himself and vanishes to administer matters properly; surely he can piece together why. A brow lifts at the name drop, it clearly being unfamiliar to T'gar before Telavi is off after one of the weyrlings. Still, "Luckily, I'm patient," is all he says on dessert, watching her leave before he turns back to watch his Asaroth finish up his meal. |
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