Logs:Arekoth gives a flight talk.
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| RL Date: 23 June, 2015 |
| Who: Edyis, H'kon |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Just what it says. The damage is done. |
| Where: Feeding Grounds, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: ??D 1M 38T I10, winter night >---< |
| OOC Notes: Feel free to make any changes. |
>---< 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.
A blanket of cold, dense fog fills the bowl with its oppressive presence
and obscures vision.
-----------------------------< Active Players >-----------------------------
Edyis F 20 5'4" athletic, brown hair, brown eyes 0s
----------------------------------< Exits >---------------------------------
Bowl
>-----------------------------------------< ??D 1M 38T I10, winter night >---< The feeding grounds still show signs of the greenflight from earlier in the day, Akluseth pacing about the blooded beasts in restless irritation. Though his habit has been to hunt from the air, something keeps him from launching upward, instead circling with the frightened beasts. Occasionally lashing out ineffectually, he sets them to scatter and run again over and over again. Nearby, with her arms folded over the top rail and chin resting upon them; Edyis watches her lifemate with deep furrows marking her brow. « Now that, » says Arekoth, his voice round, hearty, « was a flight. » The brown has returned to the scene of the crime, gliding lazily from the bowl, and slowly adjusting his wings for an easy circle around the feeding pen. That sharp gaze is on Akluseth and his rooting about. « If ever there was a reason to miss breakfast, it's that, » he tells the young dragon, jolly, voice nearly bubbling into a laugh in that chilly mental link. Wings change again; he drops to land. « Trying to see which ones you can give heart attacks to? No mercy for the enemy! » Still almost laughing. « Is it that enjoyable? » The younger brown wonders twitchily stretching his wings to test the air. « It looked like fun, those twists and turns, all those dragons competing together. » Something like awe and a touch of longing in his tenor. « Hungry, but also not hungry. I know, I know we aren't supposed to play with our food. » « It is if you win, » Arekoth answers the littler one. « Chasing would be more fun on its own if you got the happy ending no matter what. » That humour is turning sharp, for the share, for the ideas that are tossed out to the weyrling so easily. More to the point is, « Maybe you should eat a wherry? » It's around this point that H'kon might be seen making his way from the bowl, the cowlick in his hair a little bit icy from under the hood of his jacket; freshly bathed. « Ed says that I am not allowed to chase. » Akluseth tones sulkily, but the suggestion has him launching into the air to wheel back and knock out a wherry. « Do you win a lot? Is there a trick to it? How do you even know if they want you to chase? Girls are complicated! » He mutter snapping the neck neatly, occasionally looking over to the big brown observantly as though some of that swagger could be learned. Edyis's brows draw together more tensely, watching the two browns intently. She makes note of H'kon too, though doesn't offer a greeting until he's closer. « Riders say lots of things, » says Arekoth, ever the helpful and responsible mentoring adult dragon. « Oh yeah. All the time. » The older brown stretches, and for a moment, examines the claws of one foot, a learned behaviour, surely. « And if they're flying, they want you to chase. They say they don't sometimes, but really they do. » Responsible. Mentoring. H'kon is frowning as he approaches, but whether that is symbolic of anything, or just the way his face got stuck after one too many of those expressions is hard to tell. When he draws nearer, and, if only for the attention being given Akluseth by his own dragon, H'kon even greets Edyis with a gruff, "Weyrling." « So I shouldn't listen, when she says I can't chase, I mean. » Settling on his haunches much like a puppy would, watching Arekoth between bites, as though he's about to learn some great trick or skill. « So if a girl goes up she always wants to be chased, even if she pretends to hate you normally, or says she doesn't. » It's all rather confusing for the littler brown but he listens with rapt attention, which says something given his usually restless nature. "Wingsecond." A salute and a beat later she adds after a moment, "Sir." Her lips press together for a moment, expression somewhat distant, calculating. "I hope I'm not overstepping my bounds, but I'm somewhat - concerned as to what those two are talking about." The calmness in her tone would suggest she is not aware of the subject matter, or at least that Akluseth doesn't feel the need to share it. « Depends who you ask, » says Arekoth, an eye turning to his arriving rider, though his tone suggests.... well. He stretches his wings, considering gaze turning to some of the animals in the pen. Hmm. « That's exactly what I mean. Greens and golds only don't want to caught until they are. And some want it even sooner. » "Weyrling." H'kon, at Edyis' query, has certainly started paying more attention. And he in fact brings a palm up to his face. "Faranth." That curse earns an arch of Edyis's brows, and a deep exhale. "I see. I don't suppose you'd be willing to... well correct whatever misinformation has resulted from this?" Edyis's nose scrunching in obvious distaste. « Well you win so many of them, makes sense to ask you don't it? » The awe in that young tenor is a dangerous thing. « So... how does the whole thing work, is there a trick to telling who is about to rise? Does yours give you grief over winning? » Arekoth is clearly pleased at asked. His agreement, that he is the best source, comes in his response to the next question - and the slightest preen. « You can feel it. In your guts. And lower. » If he had eyebrows, they'd raise suggestively. Stop say H'kon's eyes, but his dragon ignores them. "Your dragon is too young yet to fly. In that way. He could injure himself and the female, were he somehow to catch." « We both like catching. Why wouldn't he? He gets laid too. It's win-win. » The laugh comes in a crackle of aurorae. "Um yes, well it just so happens that this month is the month they are giving those sorts of lectures, and as you seem to ride brown, and Arekoth has charmed my lifemate with stories of grand feats. Isn't it your duty to correct any damage he might have inadvertently caused by giving the correct information on mating flights?" That isn't a twitch at the corner of her mouth, honest. « What is.... laid? » H'kon frowns squarely at her, unamused and unimpressed. "That is your first correction. He is too young to chase, do not allow him to do so until he is large enough to slow the fall of the female he chases, should he catch." « It's glorious, is what it is, » Arekoth tells Akluseth. « You go farther and faster than all the others, and then it's just you and her... Really it's not that different for riders. More interesting ones, it's sometimes them and two other girls, but not everyone's riders are interesting. » A sharp look to his own. H'kon is, alas, too busy frowning at Edyis to return that look to his lifemate. "Ok. Sir." It isn't quite a cower, but the weyrling has gone from relaxed but concerned to standing almost at attention and intently listening. "That's it? Just don't let him do it period?" Dark eyes curious but also a bit wary and contrite. « I do not think my rider knows much about this.... she never flies anyone. » Fortunately she doesn't seem to be listening in since her complexion doesn't falter. "How did you keep Arekoth from chasing?" "Until he is large enough," H'kon repeats himself, in much the same tone as was used the first time that phrase had been uttered. "Strong enough." Now, the wingsecond does look sidelong to his lifemate, but Arekoth's attention has since shifted to the littler brown near him. "I refused him. We had become practiced at that. It was a matter of will. Males are not like females; females must rise. Males must not always chase." Which of course suggests that they should sometimes, though. « Oh no? Well tell her she should. It's great fun. » "So I don't ever have to let him chase." She sounds suspiciously relieved, and perhaps a bit like she's only hearing what she wants to hear on the matter. Something has her blanching, and stammering for the next question, "How often, do these things happen?" She wonders, "And when he's big enough... " She isn't very goood with these questions. « I do not think she liked the suggestion. How do you encourage yours to do so? » H'kon is flat-faced in response (which looks alarmingly like his usual frown, only with different eyebrows) to that summary, but doesn't seem all that tempted to get into an argument, straight back and forth. What he does say is, "Greens are up regularly enough. Three or four times a turn, and there are many," slight emphasis on that word, "greens in a weyr." Did Arekoth just puff his chest? "Speak with your weyrlingmaster. Meanwhile, you have time to... prepare." There's a good reason for Hal to look away, at something in the pens. « I don't think he needed too much encouragement? Maybe he did. » Arekoth has started to track the progress of a fairly fat herdbeast. Hmm. « Doesn't matter, it was a long while back. Certainly he doesn't now. »
H'kon frowns (even more) back at her. "You are a woman." Still frowning. "If you've not been to bed," grimace, "with a man... No man will look to take his time in a flight. Speak with Quinlys. Or Telavi." « One glorious time. Again I will, one day. It was a strong clutch. » He's pretty sure. Grudging, but with a strange note of the personal, comes the addition, "I would suggest a trusted friend over an... interest." Oh. OH! Edyis looks several shades paler despite her coppery complexion. « Woah, so like, there are dragons who are your... kids? » Mind? Totally blown! « Like who? » Because this is important stuff. As for Edyis, the wrinkled nose and pursed lips say it all. "Can't say I've ever been particularly interested in anyone, but why do you say that? A friend, rather than someone you are interested in?" Not that Edyis has a long list of either. "Experience," answers H'kon, and that, with finality. He has turned back toward the pens, where Arekoth is still eyeballing food, and still not willing to actually get up and chase it. After a moment, the brown has the information, and is able to offer, « Ilicaeth is one. And Kazavoth. And Athimeroth. » A beat. « I think. I'm sure. They must be mine. » H'kon has looked back while Arekoth shares his information, back to Edyis. "When he does chase, you'll need to see yourself to wherever the female's rider is waiting. It is your duty to be available, should he catch." It's becoming sequential; a list he has in his mind, ticking off points as he remembers them from his own weyrlinghood, from his own practice. Her lips purse at the succinct and unhelpful explanation, but she nods dutifully. « Wait. Hold up. You are Ilicaeth's sire? » No wonder Arekoth is so cool, if that's where Ilicaeth got it from. That sense of awe exuding from the little brown just became full on adoration and hero worship. Even his hunting style is watched more closely now. "I don't suppose there's a proper, sorry you hate me and my dragon caught yours gift, or a list of things not to do if you can't stand whoever's riding the green he catches?" She purses her lips more, "Except maybe enough alcohol to burn it from everyone's memory." « Sure, » says Arekoth, as if it were nothing, and certain too. There's not much hunting style to watch. The brown is still lazy, still tired. "We are dragonriders," says H'kon with a practicality that cannot help but sound gruff and unfeeling. "And this is a part of our lives." Don't cry over spilled milk? Or other things. Edyis exhales sharply frowning deeply. "I suppose so." Not that she seems particularly thrilled with that thought. "Best get him cleaned up." To which the younger brown whines, because look its Arekoth and he's just that cool. "Ah thank you. For the advice." She offers in parting. « Go on, kid, » prompts the older brown. « I need a nap. That's how you know it was a real good flight. » And H'kon will just have to deal with feeling his dragon's hunger while Arekoth sleeps. H'kon, he just nods, and turns, and goes. |
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