Happy Sleepy Grumpy Dopey Doc Proddy And Hungry

Participants:

Ahnika.jpg Escaeth F'min.jpg Jhath Kaseth L'han.jpg Mohria.jpg Orralth Rauzath Riordanth Voldrath

Date: 8/31/10 (IC: Day #: 08 Month #: 10 Turn #: 1 Time : 06:20:00 AM)
Location: EW: Feeding Pens
Synopsis: After Jhath sends out a morning alarm to the weyr, Escaeth bleeds off some of her frustration in the feeding pens. She is joined by others, dragon and rider alike, and a mild altercation ensues.
Rating: PG
Logger: Ahnika

Eastern Weyr: Feeding Pens

The one area of the Bowl that is cultivated for the growth of grass, it is eerily empty now as the seed planted in the fertile ashy soil takes root. For now, the beasts must be grazed outside the weyr. When the growth takes root, it will be an impressive field able to sustain the Weyr's herd without trouble. To the north, the sounds of the weyrling barracks can be heard, but they're far enough away so as not to disturb the - currently absent - residents.


<Weyr> Jhath trumpets out the morning's alarm with an exciting sizzle of new coals against braziers and the whooosh of sudden flame and heat, the scent of fruity glaze against the flesh of a roast, and the spicy, pungent odor of fresh incense burning. « Up! Up, my Battle Brothers and Sisters! A new day dawns! Embrace it, this glorious day of training and knowledge! Thread will rue the day it dares invade our skies! »

<Weyr> Rauzath lifts one eye in reality, and through the links, sends a ruffled, « Huh? » Really bright there, Rauzath. She inspects the links to find the miscreant who woke her up. « Look here, little greenie… » She sighs, then shifts. « Awww, well, Mine has to be awake anyway, apparently. » Grumble grumble grumble.

<Weyr> Jhath returns so all can hear, but some of the excited heat is muted and some of the spice drifts away, « My apologies, Madam, if I have disturbed you and yours in my eagerness to lend aid to my Brothers and Sisters in greeting the day. »

<Weyr> Voldrath grumbles. « Another one. What is it with greens and waking everyone up? »

<Weyr> Riordanth « HI! »

<Weyr> Voldrath gives Riordanth a mental tail bap.

<Weyr> Rauzath projects, « You're young yet, Jhath. So, I'll make an exception for you. But the fight … » Such as it is, « Carries on at all hours, and sometimes those who are fighting don't get in to sleep until dawn. A general revellie is a grand idea until you wake those protecting us through the night. » Rauzath feels a little bit of responsibility for this little green, at least for a few sevens.

<Weyr> Riordanth mentally douses Voldrath with cold mountain water, and then his mind trails off like a stone skipping across a lake. LAKE! « Lake lake lake lake lake. » His voice echoes into the distracted distance and he's gone.

<Weyr> Jhath 's voice sizzles with fire a little more, but then the sound fades and merely leaves the heat of confidence. « Those who do not greet the dawn prepared for training and trials of valor in a timely manner will miss it and their glory may flag! » And then as Rauzath speaks the heat fades to a single column of flame, and the incense turns to seven-old cinder and ash. « Aye, Madam. As you say. » Solemnly, she withdraws, likely to go sulk somewhere…

<Weyr> Rauzath says, "peers closely at Riordanth, chuckling at his happiness. « Oh, yes. Your 'LAKE' was bloody hard work, it was. For Orralth, for Kaseth and me, and for a couple of our big bronzes. » She doesn't specify which ones. « The babies get priority, though. » This is law. « It's mainly for them. » And for brooding queens."

<Weyr> Riordanth says, "« Lake lake lake lake lake. »"

<Weyr> Voldrath « Snap out of it, blue! »

<Weyr> Riordanth « LAKE! » And with it, he shares with /everyone/ the bliss of dive-bombing into the cold lake waters, his mind exploding with joy and points of light. Slowly sinking to the bottom, bubbles are shared. « Fish? »

<Weyr> Rauzath shivers. « C-c-c-cold. » After a moment of recomposing herself, Rauzath replies sharply. « Oye! Calm down, fish boy. Nope. No fish in the lake. » At this point, it's probably way to cold for them to survive there anyway.

<Weyr> Voldrath turns to focus somewhere else as a shiver filters through. « Don't know him. Never met this blue before vin my life. »

<Weyr> Riordanth replies happily, « It is no colder than between. And there are fish in the lakes up north. I'll bet I can find fish to stock this lake. Bet I can. » He mentally nudges Voldrath and - briefly - there's a flash of F'min and Mohria in a rather intimate embrace. Think James Bond opening credit silhouettes. « You do toooooo. »

<Weyr> Jhath absorbs the cold with a single violent shake before a warm fire on the hearth can be felt and heard and smelled again as she affects a stoic and quiet examination of the blue and the usefulness of his behavior in fighting Thread.

<Weyr> Escaeth touches the links tenanatively, a heavy storm brewing in her mind. « Who do I have to thank again for the wake up? »

<Weyr> Voldrath cocks his head towards Riordanth with interest. « Does your rider know what you'r showing all the dragons? »

<Weyr> Jhath is still eyeing Riodanth with mild interest. Warmth at her hearth increases, the spice incense drifts to and fro. « Is this a trial of some kind? » She asks, of anyone, presumably.

<Weyr> Riordanth pulls back abruptly. « Sorry. » And then there's nothing more from the little blue. He'll keep his happiness to himself, thankyouverymuch. Either that or Mohria reigned him in.

<Weyr> Rauzath snickers at the brown's comments. « Oye, Blue. Little dragon minds here. » She doesn't care, though her rider does, some. « I've already talked to her Escaeth. » The matter is settled for the moment.

Dragon> To Riordanth, Jhath sends tendrils of incense, warm and spicey, laced with a sweetness, though. « I meant no offense, Battle Brother. I was genuinely uncertain of your meaning and intent. My deepest apologies if I gave you insult. »

Dragon> To Jhath, Riordanth replies with gentle reassurances, « I am not offended, little lady, I assure you. »

Dragon> To Riordanth, Jhath seems content with that, the incense withdrawing to a less intrusive level, warmth permeates, however, and the scent of mulled wine being shared. « I am glad for it. There are many trials here. Some permitted. Some not. I'm forever trying to riddle them all out satisfactorily, but these tests and trials will all be met victoriously. I am sure on it. »

Dragon> To Jhath, Riordanth swirls beneath that warmth, cool and watery. « Life is trials. But it is thrilling. Even the defeats. »

Dragon> To Riordanth, Jhath withdraws slightly for a moment, seeming to contemplate that. When she returns, her warmth returns with her, the fire upon the hearth a soft whisper of noise however. Incense fills the chamber, but not suffocatingly so. « Aye, if one were to survive defeat and learn from it, improve their tactics for the next fray, then it can be a boon. »

Dragon> To Jhath, Riordanth is pleased, mentally smiling at the young green. « Exactly, » he says. « It's all learning. And fun. Fishing takes much patience, but the reward is great. »

Dragon> To Riordanth, Jhath considers this carefully as well. Embers of the hearth glow hot and fresh incense is cast into the censer and made hot and spicy with interest. « I believe I understand your meaning. You wish to make a trial of patience for us. Mine understands this trial of patience. She speaks of it oft when her Champion comes to mind. She must succeed the trial of patience before she makes a trial of endurance for him. So sayeth mine. » A sage nod, with sage-tinted incense. « This trial of endurance, sometimes called a test of stamina, sayeth mine, must be of some significance indeed. I have faith in him. Mine's Champion is strong. He has already survived his quest of valor. »

Dragon> To Jhath, Riordanth is very confused. « I…just like the lake, » he finally concludes. « And fishing is fun. »

It's early morning now that the entire Weyr was awakened by Jhath's morning bugle. But it irritated another certain green who finds herself imitating Kaseth's behavior by parking herself in the feeding pens working off her anger and fusteration by terrorizing the herdbeasts. Her rider, L'han, currently leans against the fence muttering, "This is not a good place for us to be girl, bad things happen here, you remember that."

Mohria strolls along the path to the pens, hands in her pockets and scanning the sky. She doesn't have long to wait before a soaking wet and dripping Riordanth swoops down to land just outside the fence to the pens, trumpeting a happy hello to Escaeth. As he senses her mood, though, his voice drops to a gentle and inquisitive croon. "Morning, L'han," Mohria calls with a small wave.

With a slight sheen of perspiration glistening on her forehead, the redheaded weyrling trots in from the direction of the bowls adjacent to the weyrling barracks. A piece of folded paper is in one hand, and Ahnika slows as she approaches the feeding pen fence. It is as she spots L’han and Mohria that she comes to a complete stop a respectful distance away, saluting them both before her grey eyes travel to the shiny green terrorizing the herdbeasts and the blue not far beyond the fence.

L'han looks over to Mohria and smiles, giving a wave back. His dragon eyes Riordanth with red lidded eyes before the color drains as she recognizes him. She however goes back to her task of causing the herdbeasts to panic as they run arond the pens, unable to escape the green, yet she doesn't decide to catch them for whatever her reasons. "How're you doing Mohria? Wake up with the green's morning call?" He looks over to Ahnika when she arrives, nodding to her with another wave before turning back to his dragon.

Mohria shakes her head, leaning against the fence as Riordanth nimbly hops over and springs forward after the herds, wings fanning the air and trailing water droplets behind him as he goes. Turning her head, she salutes Ahnika back, smiling. "Morning. And no," she finally answers L'han, "we were up when the last splash of water was dumped into the lake, and it was declared open." Rubbing her eyes, she grins wryly at her wet blue. "You?"

Upon closer inspection, one might see that Ahnika’s perspiration isn’t the only thing damp about her. It seems she has finished feeding and giving Jhath her bath, early-risers that the eager weyrling pair are. So it is likely Jhath is efficiently napping off her breakfast along with any other early risers among the weyrlings, or just those who actually got up with Jhath’s alarm. To the other riders, as they acknowledge her, she smiles and lowers her salute, folding the already folded paper once more and stuffing it down her shirt since she doesn’t seem to have any pockets in these breeches. Casually, she moves closer to the fence and the other pair and coughs softly, “Sir, Ma’am. Sorry for Jhath’s … enthusiasm this morning. She’s still learning her own vocal strength.” And probably will be for awhile, as dragon’s memories are.

L'han chuckles and says, "Trying to stop Escaeth from blasting the entire Weyr with her anger. She was sleeping. So here she is, imitating Kaseth to try and work off some of her anger… so far it's working." He looks over to Ahnika and says, "It happens. Just get her to quiet down the pipes, eh?" Escaeth stalks the herd around to send them Riordanth's way, causing the herd to split, the beasts running in near a full riot now as they find themselves trapped with not one but two predators.

Mohria shakes her head, grinning at Ahnika. "They're young. They'll learn." She has patience, it seems. And she'd have to have, with Riordanth in her mind all the time. Chuckling at L'han, she nods and turns klah-brown eyes towards the pens. "Seems to be working," she agrees. Riordanth rears up onto his hind legs, spreading his wings far. Tiny though he may be, he's still a dragon. Even when he bugles at the beasts and watches with merry glee as they turn and scamper and scatter. An older one trips, and Riordanth can't help himself as his neck extends to snap the beast's spine, letting it drop and skid forward a bit under its own momentum, dead. Warbling, he nudges it towards Escaeth in offering, licking his chops.

There's a low bugle as Voldrath erupts from between and then circles for a landing at the feeding pens. At least, that's what it appears he's doing, until he swoops over the beasts that are milling about due to Escaeth's herding, and snatches the biggest, juiciest one he can find from under Riordanth's nose. He lands just outside the pens, and starts in, before F'min has even had a chance to dismount. The brownrider is careful not to get himself splattered with the gore of torn herdbeast as he dismounts and walks on over to Mohria, L'han, and weyrling Ahnika. He greets them, all, ruffling Mohria's head before he starts tugging his gloves off. "Mornin' all. How y'doin', Sleepyhead?" the last is directed towards Mohria, since he knows that Riordanth gave her no rest with the filling of the lake.

Ahnika glances toward Escaeth as he speaks of her anger, and the redhead seems respectful of that, but as L’han seems to lay down the unsolicited advice about her Jhath, after Ahni’s already apologized for her, she straightens gets that squared-shouldered-set-jaw look and turns to him, seeming about ready to speak her mind on that. Luckily, Mohria’s comment forestalls any defensiveness Ahni was about to indulge in, considering everyone here outranks her, and the redhead just shuts her mouth and nods, only frowning a little and kicking at the ground futilely, until Riordanth’s activity draws her attention sharply and she seems lost for a time in watching the blue and green dragon interact, and the way the herdbeasts scatter. When Voldrath swoops in and grabs the biggest and juiciest, Ahni, not really used to such things, gasps and ducks – though it’s likely not necessary, at least not until the brown dragon lands and starts into the herdbeast. Some light splatter gets on her arm and cheek and she makes a sour face, but actually doesn’t look like she will throw up. Good on her. Distractedly wiping (and smearing) some of the gore away, she salutes F’min as he enters.

L'han watches as Voldrath jumps on in and his eyes widen with an exclaimation as the brown just so happens to take the biggest and juiciest… and that would just so happen to be the one that Riordanth offered Escaeth… the green's eyes track the interloper as they fill rapidly with red. A very, -very- angry bugle follows the brown as the green stares pointedly at Voldrath. L'han looks over at F'min and asks of the brownrider exasperatedly, "Was it really necessary for Voldrath to steal -that- herdbeast?" The greenrider is eyeing his dragon worriedly, as though something bad's about to happen.

<Weyr> Escaeth suddenly fills the Weyr links with a storm as a very angry mind breaks in. « Voldrath you thief! Give it back! »

Mohria grins at Ahnika's reaction to L'han's comment. "Easy," she says, looking very much amused. "You'll get used to being told what to do," she teases. At Voldrath's theft, Riordanth trumpets with dismay and rears up again, snapping at the beast. He manages to grab its tail, sadly ripping it from the carcass. Falling back to all fours he turns to croon forelornly at Escaeth, padding forward to drop his sad, pathetic little Eyore-tail at her feet. He croons apologetically, trying to nuzzle her in apology. He'll make Voldrath pay for it later. Promise.

<Weyr> Voldrath complacently eats. « I didn't see your name on it. It was laying on the ground, I took it. Now I eat it. Are you too weak to hunt for yourself anymore? »

<Weyr> Riordanth mentally snorts in Voldrath's direction. « Be nice. Escaeth, I will catch you another. Ignore him. He's grumpy. »

<Weyr> Jhath stirs awake from her after-breakfast nap and peers with only a vague scent of incense and the embers of a fire. « Hmm? Has someone cast a gage in challenge? »

Having been on top of the dragon, and unable to see which herdbeast Voldrath had taken, F'min turns to look back at his dragon, and the other two. "Somethin' wrong?" he asks, looking between the dragons and their riders. He notices Riordanth trying to comfort Escaeth, but he turns back to Mohria and L'han with upraised eyebrows of puzzlement. He's pulled his goggles down by now, and has also accepted Ahnika's salute with a nod, although he tips his head slightly as he notes her self control. Taking off his helmet, he's tugging at his gloves as he waits to see what Voldrath's done this time, because the dragon ain't talkin'. The brown is just eating as if nothing in the world is amiss.

<Weyr> Voldrath snorts. « I'm not grumpy. Greenie's the one getting her nose bent out of shape. »

<Weyr> Escaeth glares in Voldrath's direction. « This neer-do-well has stolen my meal! » She brushes Rior for a moment with a appreciative chime, but her anger towards Voldrath remains.

<Weyr> Riordanth responds, « I think that's your muzzle you see, Voldrath. It's always had that odd bend to it. I always mean to ask you - how did that happen? Did you fly into a wall? » His voice is /just/ enough teasing and just enough youthful curiosity that it's hard to tell if he's being deliberately mean or if he's genuinely concerned for his ledgemate's schnoz.

<Weyr> Voldrath « It's as I said, you weren't eating it. It's not your meal unless you're eating it. » He turns an idly-curious-tinged-with-annoyance dart her direction. « I don't see what you're getting so upset about. It's not like it's the last herdbeast in the pens. »

Sort of dumb about all this sort of thing, Ahnika watches it all mostly in blissful innocence. Dragons never actually fight each other outside of Flights, right? So, as the bits of blood start to dry on her face and sleeve, she glances from L’han to F’min, and then from Escaeth to Voldrath and that juicy kill, then to Riordanth, and finally to Mohria, to whom she nods mutely, then manages a reassuring smile and a shrug. To F’min she says, “It looked to me like your Voldrath took the herdbeast that …” here she struggles a moment, digging for a name, “Riordanth took down in offering to Escaeth, there, sir.” Then she looks suddenly interested, as if she just now caught on to something more interesting about it than there really was. “Oh.” She says softly, getting caught up a little from Jhath.

<Weyr> Jhath wakes up a little more, some kindling is laid to the hearth, and a small fire leaps up. Incense drifts in a richer, heavier scent. A porcine begins to make its initial turn on a spit. « Calm yourselves, Battle Brothers and Sisters » Jhath offers, trying to sound like a woman-at-arms settling a dispute between two of her soldiers, but the youthful tinge in her voice just makes it sound sort of condescending, though it's not meant to be. « It is plain to see that the only way to settle this is a test of flight. » Because a test of strength wouldn't really be applicable. Or fair.

Escaeth looks back down to the offered tail, before dipping her head and snapping it up without a second thought. The blue gets a affectionate brush of her head before she lets out another aggressive bugle at the brown as she starts that way to reclaim what's left of her meal. Unfortunately, not happening. "Don't think so girlie… let it go." L'han gives her that order, staring at her shaking his head. The green looks back to her rider, bugling her distress to him at letting the interloper escape unpunished but he points to another beast of similar size. "Let it go girl, did I not say bad stuff happens here?" The green seems to struggle with letting it go, before she gives out a forlorn bugle and just lays down, one very unhappy dragon. L'han looks over to Ahnika and nods. "Good call, Weyrling. And yeah, he did, F'min… Escaeth dines alone and doesn't like other dragons butting in… or stealing her food." He looks back to his sad dragon and looks then to Mohria, "Ask Riordanth to get her that one, please? She's being stubborn."

<Weyr> Kaseth projects her light and sense of power in a low, background hum. « But how would flight be fair either, young Jhath. It is common knowledge that greens are the more flexible and acrobatic fliers. »

Riordanth doesn't need asking, as he's already springing after the other large beast, swift in his kill. He drags it back over to her, the animal's head clamped between his teeth and the little blue's body backing up, tripping once over his tail when it gets caught between his legs. Then he deposits the meal in front of Escaeth, warbling and quite pleased with himself. He offers her another nuzzle. Mohria watches this with amusement, chuckling and giving F'min a knowing look. This happens all the time, after all.

<Weyr> Escaeth seems to swell up with even more anger towards the brown, before she is deflated by something. « Enjoy that beast, Voldrath… and may your stomach ache from it. » She draws back from the links, one very unhappy dragon.

<Weyr> Voldrath « And people say I have a bad attitude. I'd hate to see you when you're proddy. »

<Weyr> Riordanth splashes cold water at Voldrath. « Leave her alone, » the little blue bristles at his ledgemate.

There's really not much left of that herdbeast by now, anyways. Voldrath doesn't tarry about his meal. No sooner is that one done, when he launches himself for another one. He blithely ignores whichever one the blue was after, finding the one he wants and taking it down, this time settling to eat where he makes his kill. He seems completely unconcerned with anything happening around him as he sets about digesting this second beast. F'min, for his part, gives a little smirk to Mohria, but turns a little more serious at L'han's explanation. "We've found a wonderful marsh jus'a li'l way down th'river. Nice flock o'fat wherry there all th'time, sh'won't have t'worry about bein'disturbed. I can show it t'y'sometime if y'like." At Riordanth's tumble, he can't help laughing outright. Then Voldrath lifts his head, and something akin to draconic amusement seems to tinge his expression.

<Weyr> Voldrath « Oh, I see. You're hoping to curry favor with her so she'll let you catch her. Haven't you realized yet that they don't care? When she rises, she'll forget all about you and your little gifts and chivalry. » His mental voice is tinged with derision for the lack of fidelity on the part of the greens, and commiseration for his ledge mate.

<Weyr> Jhath 's warmth withdraws a little with Kaseth's words, but not pouty as much as she is genuinely contemplating this new problem and working on a solution for it. Happy to be given something to strategize and be productive. The fiery hearth may fade some, but the incense returns in earnest a few moments later, fresh, warm, wafting around generously, « It will be a test of flight with many variables, some in his favor, some in hers. A Tourney. » Jhath seems excited, the fire returns with its heat. The porcine turns again and is rebasted with a glaze and spices and the mulled wine flows freely.

<Weyr> Kaseth leans in ever so slightly. « Do you really believe this argument should be aired among the entire weyr, Voldrath? »

<Weyr> Riordanth draws back a little from the brown, genuinely hurt. « I'm just being nice, » he protests in a small voice.

<Weyr> Voldrath « Nope. If it was my choice, I wouldn't have started it at all. But, I didn't start it. » His response is actually cheerful as he really seems to be more occupied with his herdbeast eating.

<Weyr> Orralth becomes present, the background of his thoughts toward the Link a chanting of some ancient language. « Escaeth, are you alright? Do you need something? » Yes, he is being solicitous mostly because she's glowing, but he's male. It happens.

<Weyr> Escaeth returns as her name is mentioned. « I will be fine, Orralth… Voldrath is just being his usual grump and thief-like self. »

<Weyr> Voldrath smolders at the mention of him being a theif, all cheerfulness wiped away in an instant. « You can call me a grump all you want, Escaeth, but watch your accusations. A beast left laying on the ground is fair game. »

<Weyr> Riordanth « I think we should all just go back to eating. And then go for a swim. »

Now Ahnika is actually watching Escaeth with a mixture of trepidation and wariness and confusion as the sparkly green looks about ready to launch herself over and at Voldrath for her stolen kill. She only belatedly glances back to L'han as he compliments her with 'good call' and manages a weak smile for him. "Um. Is she-? Is that-?" She looks from Escaeth's shiny hide to back over her shoulder the way she came, and then adds, "Should I be here?" Poor confused Ahni. She looks back to the feeding pen in time to see Riordanth offering another kill to the green and that has her backing up a step once more. "Um. Well, Jhath's awake, I need to get back to her anyway." And then the brown is bounding back in for another kill. Ooookay. She turns around, takes a step to leave, remembers herself, turns around again and salutes the riders, and turns again to leave.

<Weyr> Orralth begs to differ. « I dunno, Voldrath. I think if he caught it for her, then it's extremely rude to take it away. But yeah. Kinda hungry myself. » There is a swoosh, a sort of a stretching feeling, and then it's done: his picture of between.

The green nuzzles the blue that brings her a fresh kill with her snout before she tears into the carcass, her red-tinted eyes watching the brown as she eats. With her now happily eating away, L'han turns back to catch Ahnika on her way as he waves to her. "You were just fine though!" He looks back to F'min and says, "Yeah man. I'd just take her and let her snack on Landing's flocks, but I'm not that good with them yet." He looks back to the dragons, leaning on the fence once more as he waits for his dragon to be done eating.

F'min surges forward as he notes the change in his dragon's demeanor, and the helmet is slapped on. Without looking at the others, he says, "Right. Voldrath, let's have some wherry for dessert." His tone brooks no challenge, and he's headed through the milling herdbeasts, slapping at one or two to move them out of his way. The brown lifts his head, and then gulps down the last of the herdbeast. He dips a shoulder grudgingly towards his lifemate, but his red tinged eyes turn towards Escaeth while F'min fastens his straps. Then he launches into the air, and winks between as soon as they clear the weyr.

<Weyr> Voldrath « Fine, call me rude. Do NOT call me a thief. » Then he winks in betwen as his rider takes him from the weyr.

Mohria watches F'min and Voldrath leave with a sigh, frowning at the pens and no one in particular. "We should get going too," she says, calling over a reluctant Riordanth. The little blue nuzzles Escaeth and then departs, padding over to his rider. "Enjoy your day, everyone," she says, slipping nimbly up onto the still-damp blue's hide, and riding him strapless up into the sky. Note to the Weyrlings: Don't try this at home.

L'han nods as Mohria and Riordanth leave off. He will wait patiently as his Escaeth tears her kill apart and once she's done, he hops the fence and climbs onto the shining green. "Come on, a long flight around the Weyr will do you good girl." The greenpair launch into the air and disappear over the edge of the Weyr in short order, leaving carcasses behind for the poor beast herders to clean up.


Closing Credits Theme Music: Drowning Pool - "Bodies"


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