Lan
Weyrlingmaster 
lanct[M:-1025]
Nomming ALL the kidpets!
Posts: 1,266 
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Post by Lan on Jun 27, 2012 18:06:12 GMT -5
did they tell you you should grow up
when you wanted to dream?
did they warn you better shape up
if you want to succeed?
Ausk had run only three nights before. It had proved to be an appreciable fraction of frightening than the wild wher fight two nights before that. This left Darryl grateful that Dask was not a male. He would hate to see his bonded run after that bloodthirsty beast. Despite any annoyances she might serve, he did love her with all his heart. She was his little girl, even though she had grown much since they had first met. So Darryl took solace in Dask's femininity and slept easy through the day.
Rukbat was setting, leaving the Weyr in a state of twilight. Stars were just beginning to peak through the sky, their presence a comfort despite the looming Red Star. In this Darryl awoke, dressing himself and getting ready for the night. His shift was not until midnight, so he had plenty of time to himself before duty called. Dask was still asleep, which was weird for him. Usually she would wake him up first before continuing her beauty sleep. Perhaps she was just tired. It wasn't until he had dressed and illuminated the dull glows in his room that he noticed her hide was brighter than usual.
Dask awoke, her vision blurry. She felt a strange desire in her slender body, one she couldn't really place. What was it? She wanted to be admired! She wanted boys to admire her and come closer to her than she had ever allowed them before. But what should she do? Surely, she should do something.
Darryl watched his green girl with interest, raising his eyebrows at her. He knew what she had to do, he had known since he had Impressed her that this day would come. So her confusion left him more than a bit bemused. Weren't female whers supposed to know what they were supposed to do. "C'mon, girlie. You've got to get outside." He opened the door for her and Dask willingly moved through the opening. She moved through the tunnels up into the Bowl of the Weyr. Darryl stayed behind. Here was his place, where the handlers of her suitors would make their vigil. He sat on the bed, closing his eyes as he felt his consciousness merge with Dask's. Images from her own eyes flickered in and out, trading places with his dark room until all he could see was what Dask could see.
The dusky green preened herself, ignoring her primal urges despite the effect they were having on her handler. She wanted to be beautiful! When she was done she slinked across the Bowl, cooing into the night. Boys! Come Dask! Admire Dask! Dask pretty! She strutted and spun, putting on a show. But it wasn't enough. There was a sense of urgency. She couldn't place it. As eyes emerged from the darkness she felt a sudden flight response. But she stayed, rooted in place. What was she supposed to do?
"RUN, DASK. RUN OR THEY'LL CATCH YOU." Darryl both shouted and mentally reached out to his wher. His hands had balled into fists around his blankets, stretching and crumpling the fabric. His eyes were clenched shut, feeling for himself the mating fire that engulfed his wher even though she knew not what to do with it. He knew... and they were running out of time.
Dask shrieked, then trilled, taking to a sprint as fast as her legs could carry her. It was faster than she had ever ran before. She had never felt the need to run before. This time, though, it seemed right. Dask run! Boys chase! Catch Dask! She called out to her suitors, sprinting out of the mouth of the Weyrbowl and into the night. Every once in a while she looked back to see who was there. Then, suddenly, her tests came.
She ran through the woods, dodging trees and jumping over fallen logs. Her legs carried her with the swiftness attributed to her color, not bothering to save stamina for a long run. Taking a turn she jumped into a bunch of thick bushes and crawled underneath their sharp, thin, tendril-like branches to get to the other side of the thicket. Once there she took off running again at full speed, her claws picking up dead leaves and tossing them in the wake behind her. By this time the darkness had consumed the forest, the stars only occasionally flickering through the canopy of the forest. Very little light trickled down, leaving the runners in total darkness.
i don't know 'bout you
who are they talking to?
they're not talking to me
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Post by Frangipani on Jul 1, 2012 8:27:52 GMT -5
Lachan lay back in his bed after yet another exhausting day at the new Weyr. The move was proving to be far more challenging that he or Kayles had originally thought – much of his time was occupied with trying to acquaint himself with how things ran here and his first few days had certainly been very eventful. He took consolation in the fact that the experience was new to all three of them and so there was some sense of shared sentiment among the bronze, handler and handler’s wife. Still… it was proving to be something of a strain. Lachask, more than any of them, had appeared to be particularly frustrated in the past few days or so. After being a prominent bronze in High Reaches Weyr he was now the new comer – something he had not been for almost nine years. As he paced back and forth in frustration across the room he paused occasionally to paw at the floor before looking back again at Lachan. Something within Lachan stirred and he groaned inwardly, recognising it instantly. Again? Really? What was it with this Weyr? A jolt of desire shot through him as Lachask, with a loud roar, crashed himself against the door. Kayles jolted awake at the sound and stared in shock at Lachask before realising in an instant what it was.
“Well, guess it’s a good thing I’m up…”
She said, half sarcastically and half jokingly. She looked at her husband who appeared to be struggling to keep himself under control.
“Let him out maybe?”
She continued. Lachan looked at her, eyes slightly glazed and he gave a short nod before rising to allow the bronze to exit before bolting the door fast behind him. He turned back to his wife.
Lachask hurtled down the corridor and out of the caverns into the moonlight, looking around for the green he was chasing. Dask. Pretty huh? He would show her! With a flying leap he threw himself into the air and remained airborne for a short moment before crashing back to the ground and taking after the young green out the Weyr bowl and into the trees. This was quite a course and Lachask found himself being hit by outstretched branches more than once. Most of the scrub however he simply lifted himself over with his wings, displaying his attributes proudly to any competition that might arise. Dask pretty was, Lachask strong, was. Lachask GLEAMED, said! Flew! The chase continued into a darker portion of the forest and Lachask was forced to follow his instincts now more than his sight, remaining slightly airborne now more often than not – launching himself into the air again each time he hit the ground simply in order to avoid tripping. Branches he could manage – he was strong. Tripping, and the humiliation involved with that, he simply could not accept. |
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Boo
Jr. Weyrwoman 
booct[M:-425]
Shirath: THOSE aren't spirit fingers... THESE ARE SPIRIT FINGERS!!!
Posts: 1,917
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Post by Boo on Jul 1, 2012 20:17:52 GMT -5
The scampering feet, the scrabbling claws. It was a sight Kire knew well as Kisk bounded his way around their room, chasing after Vesta. The pink firelizard was not pleased with the black whers actions chirping back at him with anger. Did he not understand the mess he made all the time!? Kire thought that Vesta rather resented Kisk but at the same time, she knew that their affections for one another ran true. She believed that the pair were just like naughty siblings, fighting one another because they didn’t know what else to do.
Kisk suddenly scabbled to a stop and skidded headlong into the door. He was good at rolling right out of his various injuries and this was no exception. He stopped and listened attentively, head cocking to one side as his wher mind deciphered the meaning of the words he was apparently hearing. Suddenly he turned and scratched at the door enthusiastically and then looked back at Kire.
“Kisk what’s gotten into you!?”
Am want PLAY! DaskPrettySister call Kisk am want play be Kisk! Run play Kisk chase.
“Well, I suppose that’s ok. Darryl will be there to keep an eye on you.”
She felt nothing out of the ordinary and knew that Dask was a sensible wher. Kisk would also be sensible. Maybe they were going to go down to the lake for a swim. Kire opened the door and was surprised when Kisk not only left to find Dask but left at a very fast pace. He was running faster than she’d ever seen him run. Maybe she should go and help Darryl look after Kisk, sometimes her wher was a bit unmanageable. Yet as Kire ran she knew she couldn’t catch up with him. She had to find Darryl and ask him what was going on!
Kisk ran out of the wher and bugled at the green. His green sister.
AM PLAY! KISK AM WANT PLAY DASKPRETTYONE! KISK PLAY CATCHYCHASE! CATCHYCHASE BIGBRONZENEWWHER! CATCHYCHASE DASKPRETTYONE!
Kisk was a fast wher for his size when he tried and this was no exception. He overshot the bronze wher with a giggle gurgle and then skidded to a halt in front of the bronze, tongue lolling out of his mouth before he took off again after Dask.
Kire eventually made it to Darryl’s room and knocked and then called through the door.
“Darryl, Kisk said something about playing games with Dask but you’re here… I don’t understand but he ran off after her. Is she ok? Are you ok?”
Tentatively, Kire opened the door and walked into the room. She took in the male for a moment and then cocked her head to the side in confusion.
“It’s… Weird…”
She didn’t feel anything only Kisk’s excitement about playing games with his sister and this big bronze wher. Hopefully it was a nice bronze. Oh Faranth what if he wasn’t!? What would she do if he ate her dear little Kisk!?
“We have to find Kisk and Dask! That bronze will eat them!!”
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Lan
Weyrlingmaster
lanct[M:-1025]
Nomming ALL the kidpets!
Posts: 1,266
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Post by Lan on Jul 2, 2012 23:01:31 GMT -5
i'm higher than high
i'm lower than deep
i'm doing it wrong
singing along
Dask weaved in and out of the trees, frantic in her desire to run as fast and as far away as possible. She didn't know why, though. She didn't know why she was running. Darryl had told her to, and so she was running. That hardly made sense. Why should she do what Darryl wished of her? As she came into a clearing she paused, standing up and proud as her ribs heaved in and out with labored breaths. Around the clearing she ran and spun and rolled. Starlight and the dull glow from Pern's satellites brought a pale light on the procession. She cooed and strutted, watching her suitors as they came.
The bronze was first, with his strong form. He was large! Far too large for her! Also, he thought himself gleaming. Dask snorted. Dask pretty! Lachask shiny, but pretty? No pretty! Dashing! Dashing, no pretty! Dask slipped away, continuing to run this way and that about the large clearing. Kisk came next, her dumbest brother. Kisk play? Play game? No game! Dask slid over to him, running past him with speed that would keep him from catching her. She didn't know why not being caught was so important, but she made sure not to get too close to either of the males.
Suddenly, an idea hit Dask.
Dance! Boys dance! Dance for Dask! Maybe dance with Dask? Dask flicked her tail up, dancing before them seductively. They would dance for her and, if she liked their dance, she would dance with them! It was up to the male with the best moves! Yes. Dask liked that. She strutted before them, slinking quickly away whenever any would get too close. Soon they would dance together! Soon she would dance with one of them!
Darryl regained some consciousness as Kire came into the room. He tried to smile at her, but for the most part his countenance remained in a scowl. Her words reached him, but he had a hard time comprehending. Did she really not know what was going on. He stood and looked at her, seeing a bit of Kisk in her expression. How could she not know? Wasn't it obvious? When she became alarmed he crossed the room to her and grabbed her arm, holding her tightly.
"Kisk will be fine," Darryl told her, not letting her go, "Stay here. Dask is Running. I... I need you." He used his free hand to shut the door behind them, then pulled her to the bed to sit her down. Whether she did sit down or she didn't, he didn't notice as he released her arm and sat down himself. "Stay with me... Please?" Normally she would not be on his list of people he'd like to sleep with, but with Lachask's handler not showing up he'd need someone to relieve himself with. Kire was a friend, a fellow handler to Auskspawn. He'd rather she was here than suffer by himself. His head hung low as he forced slow, deep breaths. His hands clenched into fists around the bedsheets.
go higher than high
go lower than deep
keep doing it wrong
keep singing along
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Azhdarchid
Jr. Weyrwoman
azhct[M:-1490]
Totes.
Posts: 1,627
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Post by Azhdarchid on Jul 3, 2012 10:28:05 GMT -5
The bushes behind Dask burst open, a hulk of tarnished iron crawling from the wound. His jaws gaped, but aside from wet gasping he did not make a sound. Details arrived in slow, scattered order as he passed beneath the scant drops of starlight trickling through the canopy.
His bony face had been whittled down by a multitude of fresh fang marks, his neck skin pricked by shallow holes from the same treatment. The flaying transitioned past his shoulders to the longer, deeper signatures of paired talons. Patches of metallic surface were missing, with sticky, oozing acres of flesh replacing them. The pestilent fungi that typically dropped off in the colder months were enjoying a last stand as white films growing fuzzy on the perimeter of each injury. A partially amputated wing hung loose off the wher's back, though that injury was old, Thread-born. When he realized he was there, Slosk pulled in the wing bones and finger stubs that had uselessly regenerated portions of flight membrane. His tipless, clawless wingjoint spasmed up and down.
The iron's right foreleg was bent up close to his body, and the first time he tried to touch it to the soil, it snapped back up to its protective coil before even reaching ground. The second try got it down, and then he cast forward at Lachask, a snaking growl swelling up his throat. His long head thrashed toward a second scent, and his displeasure ended on a question. He sniffed at Kisk, making an awkward step in the black's direction, then whuffed at him. After puffing his stiff nostrils for a few seconds, he snapped his head back toward the bronze with a snarl.
Er, but wait, where was the summoner that had brought them all? Slosk's second intimidation broke off into silence as he swung his head back and forth to locate her. It was some time before he glanced downwards and realized he was very nearly trampling on her, and he reared off his front legs to scuttle backwards with an alarmed hiss. He landed back on his left leg, while his right resumed its tucked position. The iron offered a short roar, then shook his neck as a few nighttime insectoids tried to take advantage of the wounds on it. Others were already clustering on his body scars, but he didn't seem to notice.
He grunted at Dask. He had received her messages, same as the rest, but was unfamiliar with the suggestion. He sidestepped around her and clacked his jaws at Lachask, then looked back at her, one eye membrane flicking when an insect tried to land at the corner. His native environment would prove very hostile for most of his chitinous stowaways, but he had not felt up to moving beyond a rut at the river delta for the past few days, not even to his cave. Not till tonight. There was a promise of Thread in hours that were not distant enough, but right now there was this green, and the fertile soil on which she stood. He could not tell if he had arrived late or if, like Ausk, this female was calling it quits early. Greens were acceptably like that, though. And though the iron was impressionable to his calling female's mood, Dask's only influence was toward playfulness. He beat his one good front paw against the ground, flicking his knotty tail in Lachask's direction.
Then he bluffed a charge at Kisk, putting his right leg down for the purpose, then stopping a jawlength short and pulling it back up. He twisted his ribcage and shoulders around to confront Lachask, rising onto his haunches, then his back toes to translate his entire length into height. His chest and belly ran a pale, silvery countertone to his brackish blue-gray back, exposed now like a flag of challenge as Slosk pointed his nose up at the treetops, then lowered his head to bellow at the bronze.
Perhaps if dances were allowed to be completely rhythmless and follow the theme of wanting to maim everyone else in the ballroom, a certain cavorting quality could be ascertained from his display.
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Post by theknightwhosaysni on Jul 3, 2012 19:11:37 GMT -5
Flask was just a little bit late to noticing the call of the green wher. He had heard her summons, of course, and he had been ready to answer, but the wher needed to get his handler up. Flayn had been up late, and he wasn't taking too kindly to Flask trying to wake him up.
Mine. [/i] When Flayn didn't even stir, Flask hummed again, Mine.[/i] Again, there was silence as Flayn slept peacefully. Mine Mine Mine Mine Mine Mine Mi--[/i] Flask kept repeating that single word over and over until at last, Flayn's eyes blinked open. The bluehandler frowned at the sight of the blue leaning over him, shoving his nose into Flayn's face. Groaning, Flayn pushed Flask's muzzle aside. "What?" Flayn snapped irritably, frowning at the blue wher. He was still tired; he wanted to keep sleeping, thank you very much. He was off, after all. He was free to sleep the night (or day for wherhandlers, anyways) away if he so wished, and he did. But whatever Flask was excited about meant that he was no longer allowed to sleep. This was just slightly irritating. Flayn was still tired! Flask hummed pleasantly, bouncing up and down happily. Dask run! Flask chase? Flayn up! See Dask's![/i] Flask said cheerfully, bouncing as he surveyed His. Another groan escaped Flayn. "Fine." He mumbled sleepily, shoving his hair out of his eyes. It was only moments later when he realized what he had agreed to as Flask dashed out of the room, intent on catching up with Dask before she got too far away. A run. Shards and shells, this day was not off to a good start. Flayn sighed irritably, taking a moment to remember where Dask's handler's room was. Darryl was the name, he remembered vaguely. A male greenhandler. It didn't take him too long to remember where their room was, and Flayn wandered off towards it, glad that he'd dozed off in the fairly presentable clothes that he had worn the previous day. At least, other than his hair, he didn't totally look like he'd just woken up. There was at least one upside to this whole situation, it seemed. Meanwhile, Flask ran. He chased after the tracks of Dask and her suitors, his feet slamming into the ground as he pushed himself powerfully forward. The boldly colored blue wher raced along, panting as he pushed himself forward. He needed to catch up with her suitors, he needed to prove to Dask that he was worth chasing her! And so he ran, his head low to the ground and his tail streaming out behind him. Finally, Flask caught up. He caught up just in time to hear Dask ask them to dance. The blue wher took a moment to collect himself, however, before attempting any sort of dance. He didn't really know how to dance, so it was a rather pitiful sight. He hopped around, humming pleasantly, even as the rather injured looking Iron lunged at the green wher's suitors. Whenever the Iron got too close to him, Flask leaped sideways, not particularly wishing to be mauled unless it was necessary. Making his way cautiously into Darryl's room, Flayn rubbed the back of his head absently, stopping just inside the door and eyeing the greenhandler and a single suitor cautiously. There had been more than one wher, if the impressions from Flask were correct, but there was only one suitor other than himself. That was slightly odd, but Flayn had seen weirder during his days at Dalibor Weyr.[/size][/blockquote] |
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Post by Frangipani on Jul 3, 2012 19:52:35 GMT -5
Lachask snorted in derision at the suggestion. He? Dance? He was at a loss as to what to do. He did not dance! This was unprecedented as far as he was concerned. On the other hand, he wanted to win. He deserved to win surely. He looked at his challenger out of the corner of his eye, the small black wher who seemed to think this was some kind of game. He was no threat as far as he was concerned. He looked back to the green and threw his head up proudly, strutting over towards her and around in a wide circle. She seemed to be avoiding him on the most part. He did not dance, he paraded. Lachask saw a blue burst from the forest and he grumbled to himself as the wher happily began looking foolish. Lachask rolled his eyes as he resumed his starting position and was about to speak to the green again when an iron, mangled and alarming broke through the tree line. Lachask remembered him. He had come to Ausk’s. And he appeared to be challenging. He looked around again at the three Weyr whers and he suddenly felt an immense territorial protectiveness sweep through him. Although he too was still sporting wounds from chasing the red, he was not nearly as festering as this iron. And he thought he could challenge him? Lachask bent his head and gave a loud roar in response to the iron, rushing forward to intercept him as he lunged towards the small black, using his wings to speed himself up. No. This would not do.
Dask pretty was! Ugly iron left, said Lachask. Not was Dask with, LEFT the bronze shouted in rage, backing his threat with a guttural snarl and lifting himself into the air in a proud display of what his wings could do.
Lachan had resumed his position next to Kayles on the bed, waiting to see the outcome of the run. These runs were always a complicated swing of emotions for him as Lachask usually felt more than just lust during the chase. Or at least that seemed to be the case now. He shuddered a little at the effort it took to not swing out in anger once the iron approached and managed to utter one phrase through his concentration. Be careful, Lachask.. Whether or not the wher heard him was beyond his comprehension in that moment. All he knew was that he wanted whoever was next to him and also desperately wanted to dismember something. Kayles looked on, waiting to see what her husband would do. She knew how much he struggled to retain some form of self-control. Having a bronze was probably not the best thing for that but… what was impressed was impressed. She knew she must not break what concentration he had or something might happen. Suddenly he turned sharply and seized her wrist. She looked into his eyes but there was only animal there now. Lachask’s lust had taken over.
Lachask felt his handler’s desire and consummation of it, and he himself burned with desire for the green. For now though, he had to make sure she, the blue and the black were safe from this iron – as difficult as it was to keep tight control over his passions. He snarled again at the iron, neck muscles aching from the red’s attack on him a few nights previous but nevertheless he stood tall and proud, ready to attack the iron should he need to warn him off. |
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Boo
Jr. Weyrwoman
booct[M:-425]
Shirath: THOSE aren't spirit fingers... THESE ARE SPIRIT FINGERS!!!
Posts: 1,917
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Post by Boo on Jul 3, 2012 21:16:59 GMT -5
Stay with him? What was going on. Dask was running somewhere. Eyes widened as realisation hit her.
“Oh!”
Dask was running!? Yet she didn’t really feel anything from Kisk, he was just being Kisk as he normally was. Kire didn’t notice any perceptible differences. Certainly she didn’t really feel like she wanted to be with Darryl… She’d been told that whers affected their handlers but all she felt was… Kisk. Then again, there were worse people and Darryl was her friend. He needed her here now and he seemed so worried. Had it been her she’d rather she was with a friend than someone she didn’t know.
“Darryl… I d-“
Kire stopped and looked at him, heart beating fast. She placed a hand on his shoulder. Kire would do this for Darryl. He’d been so kind to her throughout Wherlinghood. All the times she’d felt lost or confused… Well, she’d felt comfortable with Darryl, he truly was a friend and she would be there for him in his time of need.
“Ok I will stay with you.”
The sound of the door opening made her glance around but she was now feeling more for Darryl. Even though Kisk didn’t really want Dask, she was feeling something as a result of Kisk’s actions. Not lust but adoration. Kisk’s strange way of showing love was now flowing more freely through their bond. She felt the desire for Darryl if in a very odd way.
KISK AM LOVE BE DANCE FORSHARDS! SHOW ALL DANCE! WATCH! KISK AM DANCE DASK FOR DANCE! KISK AM DANCE FOR DASKPRETTYONE!
Kisk bounced where he stood, waggling his wings and whole body uselessly before standing on his hind legs and jumping around in circles. When the Iron appeared out of nowhere, Kisk giggle gurgled at him, not fearing the iron. Kisk didn’t fear things, he loved them!
BE DANCE FOR DASK!? KISK AM DANCE! DANCE WITH BLUEBIGBLUEFRIEND!
Kisk bounced his way over to Flask and gurgled at the blue before then flapping his way over to the bronze wher. He pounced at the feet of the larger wher and then bounced back to Dask.
Kisk am be good dance!? Dance with Dask! DANCE ALL TIME DASK! KISK AM KISS!
He then rolled into a ball and tumbled his way around the clearing, zooming this way and that. This was so much fun!
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Lan
Weyrlingmaster
lanct[M:-1025]
Nomming ALL the kidpets!
Posts: 1,266
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Post by Lan on Jul 3, 2012 23:33:20 GMT -5
did i ask you for attention
when affection is what i need?
thinking sorrow was perfection
i would wallow 'til you told me
there's no glitter in the gutter
there's no twilight galaxy
Darryl gasped when Kire placed her hand on his shoulder, then relaxed noticeably and covered her hand with his own calloused one. His desire was misplaced. He held no true sexual attraction for the blackhandler. But she was here. She was his friend. They had been through much together. All that history came crashing down on him, drawing them close. The fact she was staying lifted a weight from his shoulders. Finally, he could dance with Dask. He let her happiness overwhelm him and smiled a small smile.
Dask squawked at the newcomer iron. He stank! And he was so very ugly! Smelly iron! Stinky iron! She taunted, dancing away from him. And yet he did try to dance. His dance was violent, though. Perhaps in that sense it was impressive, but Dask could hardly get over his smell and his unkempt appearance. She snubbed him easily, keeping one step ahead of all of them.
A beautiful, bright blue caught her attention next and her fancy. She sidled up to him, purring and warbling as she danced next to him. He was so silly! He made a fool of himself for her, as he should! Dask liked him. Flask dance silly! Bright Flask! Silly Flask! Still, she slipped just out of his reach. The both of them were faster than the iron, which Dask enjoyed. She enjoyed it so much, she decided to show off a bit! Stopping in the center of the clearing she strutted, each move of her legs intentional as her slender body slinked from side to side. Her tail flicked behind her as she glanced over at Flask and gave him a wink. He was her favorite, for sure. It certainly wasn't her dimglow brother, Kisk, although his bouncing and rolling did fill her with delight. Something just... wasn't right about the black. Yes, the blue was the best.
Then, suddenly, the bronze roared. Dask jumped, confused. Why was there roaring? She gave her own, higher-pitched bellow in return. There was to be no roaring! There was to be dancing only! What was going on? She ran to Lachask, peering around his hulking frame to see that he was driving the iron away! His threats against the iron made her happy and she trilled a bright warble. Iron ugly! Smelly iron! Stupid iron! Her tiny body shivered with excitement. Dask liked this game! She liked picking on the stupid, ugly, smelly iron. Her tongue flicked out of her mouth, taunting Slosk. Stupid! Smelly! Ugly! Not fit! Not fit with Dask! No dance here! Dance elsewhere. Elsewhere not smelly. The green took full advantage of Lachask's bulk and intimidating appearance to tease the iron from the safety behind him. Wasn't this fun?
Yes. The bronze supplied the most fun. His dance had been more of a parade or a strut, but he had tried to drive away the smelly iron that had tried to ruin her fun! Yes, he had defended her fun and he had supplied it. Dask, therefore, slid around his side and strutted in front of him, her long green tail tickling his sides as she passed. Lachask defend! Lachask shiny! Lachask strong! Dask dance Lachask. Dance Dask! Dask then turned to the others and dismissed them with an upturned nose and a snort. Others leave! Dance elsewhere!
Dask had made her decision, and that left Darryl with sudden and overwhelming urges. He knew not of Flayn's presence in his room, only of Kire's nearness. Her hand was there and his hand ensnared it, pulling her closer to him. His movements were confident as he wrapped his arms around her, but he was also gentle. Dask was a gentle lady, and so Darryl would treat Kire with softness and kindness as well. His lips sought after hers and he pulled her closer and closer to him, slowly but surely bringing her with him down to his bed.
i'm all right c'mon baby
i've seen all the demons that you've got
if you're not all right now
c'mon baby i'll pick you up
and take take you where you want
anywhere you want anywhere you want
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Post by Frangipani on Jul 4, 2012 2:57:50 GMT -5
Lachask continued to glare at the iron. Dalibor’s little whers had to remain safe. Pretty Dask had to remain safe. The iron had already intruded on one of the runs of the weyr’s females and Lachask felt it was his duty to keep him from any more intrusions. That Slosk had been present at other runs and had won some was not included within Lachask’s knowledge. All Lachask knew was that he was not clean at this moment; he was not shiny as he himself was and as such he should not be here. Besides, he was kind of worried about the black who was now rolling around the clearing with no direction whatsoever. He did not appear to quite grasp the purpose of the run at all. He sidestepped the black’s attempt to pounce on his feet with slight irritation, still focussing on the iron. It was then that he noticed Dask had moved behind him and seemed to be insulting the iron from behind him. Yes. Lachask would be her shield. He was shiny; he would blind the iron if he had to. He was strong. He watched the green as she teased him with her tail and his chest swelled with pride. Yes. Defended Dask, Lachask. Said Lachask, Dask pretty danced. Lachask defended. He had won. Finally. But he would be gentle. Dask was pretty, dainty. Dainty Dask. He followed the green, and would follow her wherever she would take him that night. He would defend.
OOC: Sorry it's so short =/ |
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Boo
Jr. Weyrwoman
booct[M:-425]
Shirath: THOSE aren't spirit fingers... THESE ARE SPIRIT FINGERS!!!
Posts: 1,917
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Post by Boo on Jul 4, 2012 5:48:37 GMT -5
Kisk had been paying almost no attention to the other whers and nor was he paying attention to Dask. Instead, the tiny black wher popped out of his ball, looked at Lachask and then Dask. Kisk bugled loudly and then pounced at Lachask once more before scurrying out of the clearing.
KISK AM RUN FAST FORSHARDS! RUN FAR FAST! Be BOUNCY! Dance be all time! All dance!
He didn’t know what was going on but Dask had told him to leave. Maybe she wanted to play hide and seek! Kire liked playing that game. In the middle of the forest, Kisk cocked his head to one side thoughtfully at the flurry of emotions from his handler. Weird…
Maybe he should go back and make sure she was safe. Only… Where was he? Oh well, he could run for a while longer. He wanted Dask to find him now! He had to find a good hiding place of course, one where no one would ever see him! He was the best hidey wher ever! No one could ever find him when he hid! Kisk giggle gurgled again and then jumped at a tree, clawing his way up and into the branches. He sure was a clever wher!
Kire allowed herself to be pulled into Darryl’s embrace a little aware of the other male in the room. She was barely paying any attention to Kisk anymore but she hoped he was safe. He was such a small, dear little thing but she was also certain he would be safe… He had to be. He was also a very smart wher. Her lips met Darryl’s and she suddenly felt very calm.
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Azhdarchid
Jr. Weyrwoman
azhct[M:-1490]
Totes.
Posts: 1,627
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Post by Azhdarchid on Jul 5, 2012 13:48:21 GMT -5
Slosk thunked back down on three legs, gaping his jaws at Lachask, ready to snap them shut on the thinnest wire of stimulation. His display ran breathy but not vocal as he lurched at the bronze, trying to get the proud creature to take the bait of his awkward gait and come close enough to crunch. He didn't even notice Dask prancing by till she was behind the other kin, and supporting Lachask's place with her own tiny taunts.
The iron relaxed the muscle of his jaw and his mandibles slipped closed in quiet surprise. His eyes yellowed, then flashed crimson as he barked back at Dask. His tail raised up and lashed behind him, wings rising from his back and trembling outwards. He put his right leg down and got another step at Lachask before he had to draw it back with a hiss. Bellowing, the wild wher bit at his own toes in punishment for the leg's unwillingness to comply with his threats. He slapped the gnawed digits at Lachask's face, but that much movement overdrew the muscle in his chest and he fell backwards after.
A gassy rumble of discontent rushed out of Slosk, and his eyes dulled to a yellow-stained blue, patchwork like eggshells. His neck sunk in against his shoulders, then he paced himself around to put his flank to the bronze and green, then his haunch. His facets glowed briefly as he watched for any further aggression from the victorious male, but he then limped off with some speed.
Once past the brush line, he sat down heavily and wheezed, shaking his neck feebly. Most of the insects clinging to it stayed on. He sniffed at the dense, dank air of the midforest, then pointed his head toward what he thought was an approaching sound with a preemptive growl. When nothing materialized, he lifted his hind leg and kicked at his neck a few times. This was not his territory, and he was three-nights' hungry. Where was the black that had been on the Run? Slosk nosed the ground, followed the scent.
Eventually he came to a tree, and he looked up. He knew the little ones liked trees. He whuffed at the scent on the trunk, then rubbed his side against the tree, bark splintering off. He could have knocked the tree down if his shoulders weren't in tatters. As it was, he sat down in the muck and watched the tree for a while.
Then he left, headed on the long slog back to his shoreline cave. Unlike Kisk, he was not inclined to becoming lost in the forest, even if it wasn't his territory.
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