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08-07-01: Tajiath
D'las leads Rojoth out to the feeding grounds, the dragon seeming to be a bit reluctant for this but D'las...
D'las leads Rojoth out to the feeding grounds, the dragon seeming to be a bit reluctant for this but D'las encourages him once again,"Look Rojoth, you don't want to get off color and if you don't eat then you won't be strong enough to carry me when it comes time to fly, you have done this and said you liked it before, so go ahead and do your thing." D'las tells his lifemate as Rojoth takes to the air to pick out which herdbeast will do for him.
Tajiath furls her wings as she lands, to settle gracefully in an empty spot.
Hanneke skips towards the feeding grounds, Caeruleth following far more slowly, her tail encroaching upon the ground as she looms through shadows and patches of darkness, nonetheless keeping pace with her lifemate. "C'mon, c'mon, Caer! You get to feed, all proper like, and I know you're good at it. It's so much fun--isn't it, isn't it?"
Tajiath circles the pen slowly, wings spread wide to catch the early morning breeze. Wherries scatter about the pen, noisily calling to each other as they sense danger growing near. Tajiath skims the weyr wall neatly tilted to one side before stretching into a graceful backwing and landing just inside the pen fence. Astride her back, Katarra quickly unties her riding straps and slides to the ground.
Katarra swings down from her lifemate Tajiath's neck.
Rojoth circles around searching out which herdbeast or wherry he may want to examine, disect, and devour. Very picky Rojoth is and not a big eater, he generally goes for the smaller beasts the quick ones, those he has to outsmart and outfly to catch.
"Hihi, Kat--er, Weyrwoman!" Hanneke regails the Weyrwoman with a brilliant smile, her hands waving back and forth as she fails to remember the salute necessary in such a situation. Caeruleth is perhaps more interested in her meal: she rises from the ground with a flick of dark limned wings, shadowing the grounds with an impressive outreach that has her grasping at wherry's neck with pure velocity; she dives downwards, disemblowing, and tearing to strips her meal, eaten with bloody delight. "Ew."
Katarra smiles wryly at Hanneke's discomfort. "Good morning, Weyrling." Still plucking off her riding gloves, she tilts her head toward the feeding young green. "It takes some getting used to, doesn't it? I still don't like to watch, even after all these turns."
>> Tajiath bespoke me with >> Warm waves of greeting flicker into your consciousness. Rich earthy tones cautioning, <
Hanneke flushes, her gaze trailing upon the packed earth of the ground at her feet, whilst she admits, "She's very--good at making a mess!" That's a nice way to put it: someone more honest might say she was a sadist, and found enjoyment in the absolute destruction of a living thing. "You don't?" Relief flickers upon her expression, face lifting into a brilliant smiled setting.
>> I bespoke Tajiath with: Caeruleth's touch shrouds dark with darker; aubergine with maroon, trellised in midnight blues that resonate opium-tinged scents. << I never have an aching stomach. It tastes better this way. >> So there. <<
D'las comes out of his link with Rojoth and notices the Weyrwoman, giving her the salute required by WLM for them to give all riders, especially this one,"Hello Weyrwoman, Tajiath hungry as well?" He asks while Rojoth continues to search out the herds and flocks.
Tajiath dips her head a few times, watching the young ones prowl and feast before turning her attention to a particular knot of wherries gathered in supposed safety. Faceted eyes whirl faster with shades of red and her golden hide ripples with muscles tightening in anticipation.
Rojoth swoops down and snags a young buck killing it instantly and toting it up to a spot on the cliff face to pick apart and eat at his leisure.
Carcass all but devoid of flesh, muscle, skin and guts, Caeruleth leaves behind her meal to persue a second course; darkness made hide gleaming as she darts with an easy grace towards the nearest wherry, squewering it with a single motion of one dark talon, slicing strips into the brown-shaded beast as it falls, laying in pieces upon the ground beneath. With delight, she allows a shadowed warble, eating. "Ew," repeats Hanneke once more. "Caeruleth, don't be so nasty."
Katarra purposely turns her back to the pen and it's gorey activities, instead tucking the gloves into her jacket pocket and opening a small gate in the fence for a hasty retreat. While hooking the gate shut again, she glances back over her shoulder and grins at Hanneke. "Not me, anyway. But then again, I never was one for such things." Blood, germs, dirt under one's nails.. you name it. Returning D'las's salute with an approving nod, she replies, "Of course."
D'las looks fascinated by the whole goings on,"You know I can actually taste it it seems like,"He makes a slight face and asks,"Anyone else ever have that sensation? I mean it doesn't seem horrible like one would think."
>> Tajiath bespoke me with >> Bright hues clash into your mind with the heat of a fanned flame, crisping scents and shrouds to ashes. <
Hanneke takes several steps back away from Caeruleth's blood bath of carnage, decidibly paler by skin tone as she leans up against the edge of the fence, remaining within the enclosure. "I don't believe," she decides, "that I will, either. I don't like dirt." Her hands are fiddled with, sweaty fingers strung through equally sweaty fingers. Nasty things, all. She eyes D'las, frowning, "That's disgusting. You're gross."
>> I bespoke Tajiath with: Caeruleth bespoke me with >> ;'s darkness heaves with unrepressed irritation; burr sharpened to a burgandy point as she retorts, flashing eggplanted touch, << I have nothing to learn, ancient one. >> No respect: she forces her opinion, seething as any independent soul. <<
With a patient sigh, Katarra settles in to wait, knowing it will take a while for the process to finish. Leaning her back gently against the fence, she keeps her gaze fixed in the opposite direction of the pens. Pert nose sqwunches at D'las's comment, her expression echoing Hanneke's 'ew'. "Hmm, well, not an actual taste, no, D'las, but the satisfaction, yes," she answers.
Tajiath hunches and leaps with one mighty downthrust of molten wings. Her shadow races across the pens, causing a panic as it crosses several loan wanderers. But the group she singled out have grown lax and too late notice the golden ball of fire bearing down on them. With a loud thump and last minute roar of satisfaction, dust, feathers and brown bodies go flying in all directions. When everything settles, Tajiath has already begun to feast upon the crumpled form beneath her, while another lies beside it as a second coarse ready and waiting.
Caeruleth raises her whirling eyed gaze from the scrambled pieces of wherry still remaining in front of her, to regard Tajiath's flight and capture of meal with some asperity, her tail twitching ever so slightly as the shrouded green uses sharp teeth to devour bloodied mess. Not bad. Amateur.
D'las looks at the two /women/ and nods as if something someone told him were correct,"Well I suppose.." He begins then says,"Well I guess it could be just the satisfaction of it but I could swear I can taste the iron richness of it, ah well it was just a thought and I'm sure there will be other new experiences to have." He says as Rojoth finishes his dining and daintily cleans off his talons and checks himself over to make sure he didn't make a mess of himself with the blood and all, he moves away from the carcass letting the four firelizards have a go at the remains.
"I can't imagine that anyone would enjoy *that*," says Hanneke, speaking up as she leans daintily against the fence, smoothing her tunic down with a practiced hand. "I wish Caer--ooh, sshhh!" Whatever remark was intended, ceases, as the young weyrling admits, "I think this is as bad as mucking--and you actually have to *touch* that, sometimes." Ew, ew, ew.
>> Tajiath bespoke me with >> Heated metal, glowing from the forge; sun rays shimmering across scorching sand; so comes the energized mind-touch of one who knows you in that annoying way mother's have. <
>> I bespoke Tajiath with: Caeruleth bespoke me with >> Buffed darkness, tempered by lapping shadows in congruent shapes amid midnight's sycopated tendancies resonates to a caliginous finish of pure sarcasm, respect loss in the woven insistance. << I rather think you don't know what you're talking about. You have about as much intellect as one of your wherries, and no more beauty. Tempted, perhaps, but as if you'd *ever* move to action. >> Offspring are charming, are they not? <<
Katarra grins at the irony of a messy dragon/dainty rider and dainty dragon/male rider, her green gaze flickering between the two weyrlings. "Many more indeed," she says first. Then dares a glance toward the pens as she adds, "You won't have to touch it for long, I think. Not at the rate your dragonets are learning to fend for themselves." A frown suddenly marks her brow as what started out as a quick glance lingers longer on her lifemate.
Tajiath rakes the remains of her first kill with darkened talons, shoving it aside. Pausing over the second form, she spins about, tail twitching in quick motions as her eyes whirl with more than blood-lust. Pebbles bounce on the pen floor as she pounds the ground, taking a few steps toward her green offspring.
Caeruleth raises her head with the nonchalance of a lethargic young dragon -- which, of course, she is -- rapidly whirling eyes the only indication of her real response to Tajiath's movement. Blues and greens are hinted at with the subtly of red, but demeanour hints at no upset: why should she be so?
"No?" Hanneke queries without much interest, or perhaps much comprehensions, her face blank as she regards Caeruleth with some discomfort, the green's stance finding no pleasure for the weyrling's gaze. "That's a good thing, right? So we won't have to muck, and then we'll be able to do other things--except that Kr'lin's always making me do pushups and runs and stuff, which isn't really fai--" she trails off, suddenly, her fingers twined together.
Katarra suddenly goes rigid, green eyes flashing as she turns to Hanneke. "I think you had better get Caeruleth out of here for now. She's angered Tajiath somehow. Quickly," she urges, shooing the weyrling with a waving gesture that gets more urgent by the moment. "Fortunately Caeruleth's eaten, so that should hold her over, but don't bring her back till Taji's gone." With a groan of annoyance, Katarra moves quickly along the fence, her concentration already coming to full bare on that of her lifemate - the only voice of reason the queen will listen to when in full temper.
Hanneke's cut off words take on more meaning, as her mouth is stuck open, Katarra's words not entirely sinking in. "Um--" she finally manages, the urgency in the Weyrwoman's voice at least stirring her to movement, although Caeruleth attempts to take it slow. "C'mon, Caer! Don't get hurt by the nasty gold!" Gate is opened, Hanneke darting through it, whilst Caeruleth makes every attempt to glide over the top without hurriedness: she's not afraid of the big bad gold. With that, they're gone, although Hanneke pauses to call back, "Byebye, Katarra!"