The Trick [OTA - Esp. wherbeebs!]

Tusk's jaws remained fastened around the wriggler's neck, her eyes unblinking as his novel jaws snipped at the tough hide below them. She lifted her head- and by extension, Dardrask -when Dardranel addressed her, inner lids fluxing a couple white blinks at the Wherling.

"Hello," Tussbuul called from behind the new handler, raising his hand out of the shadows where he had been leaning back in his chair. He was still leaning. In fact, he contented himself with letting his arm drop back and smiling at Dardranel from his perch. He did not appear discontent in the slightest with any aspect of the situation. Glancing at Dardrask when the black suddenly withered in his wher's grasp, he praised, "Ooh, what a clever idea."

Tusk's facets presented cross-eyed flashes of reflection as she tried to study the wheret corpse now in her possession. She stared for a while, then grunted- it was almost a sweet chirp -and carried the body over to her pile. She dug out a pit in the center of the mound, stashing Dardrask inside with just his little hind-toes and tail sticking out the top. Then she arrayed a few wherry wings over the hole and sat down to await her next customer. "Though maybe not with Tusk," Tuss chuckled.

The green's yellow-lime tongue darted in and out, marking the seconds, but as soon as Jafask sauntered in her mouth was open, exposing the entire slimy mass of her green gums, all fangs flexed into view. A hard hiss that engaged an entire serpentine S out of her throat replied to Jafask's comment, though it was not the words she responded to. Planting one foot on the top of the pile- Dardrask's back -the grown wher climbed over to Jafask's side, jaws approaching a one-eighty split as she neared the iron wheret. "Whoa, whoa," Tuss cautioned from his corner, still with a touch of laughter in his voice, though he watched Jafask rather than his own green.

Tusk shut her mouth back to a thin line set in a broad wedge. She sniffed close at the wheret, and turned her head to put one plate of an eye toward his shimmering metal skin. The green plunked down on her haunches, head lilting to one side. She stuck out one paw, hesitated, then stroked the air in front of Jafask's nose a few times before bringing her foot down on his tiny snaggletoothed head.

Cilisk better wagon, she granted, removing her paw. Tussbuul, leaning his elbow to the chair arm and his knuckles to his chin, looked at the boy in charge of the little monster. "Trouble?"

"Ah, Randiel, greetings. I see you did not get a Tusk." Tussbuul smiled as the lumpy brown dove facefirst into the palace of meat. Tusk's focus flickered off Jafask long enough to aim the point of her tail at the brazen thief. She gave the skinny appendage a couple test swings, then stiffened it like a board and brought the tip down toward the generous space between Rask's eyes. To make sure the wherlet cleared out, she ducked her bony hips and slammed her back end sideways toward him, using her weight to shove him off-course.

She came back to Jafask to find him leaping between her front legs, and responded in the logical way: by felling not her paw on his head, but her entire torso, squishing him into the ground despite the threat of tiny baby teeth in her skin. Unless the iron found enough speed to avoid the bellyflop, he would soon find his defenseless spine being groomed by the green's slimy tongue. She was a skinny creature, so there was probably some protrusion of various metallic bits beneath. And it was not as if the grown wher was invincible:

Too many babies, she huffed at her Handler.

Oh? Too many for you?

That sounded like a challenge, and the green's ichor told her she could not ignore it. She was currently trying to maintain her roost over Jafask, but also defend against Rask. Her jaw clenched.

No... she tried, eyes struggling back to blue, her tail kept high to swat at the brown if needed. Tusk had discovered the unique usefulness of her tail in Wherling training. These babies would all discover new talents too.

"Actually I did not," Tuss explained. "Being that it was a double-hatching, and during the day, there were far too many dragon and groggy wher eyes on it. I elected to join the poor slob assigned to the Watch and survey the premises instead. I did of course hear about everything that happened." He leaned forward and gave the most abruptly ghost-like of his new companions a prod with the spoke of his cane. "You do like him though, don't you?" he inquired of Jafari, smiling.

Tusk got to her feet after a few seconds, tilting her head at the iron.

Naughty, she informed him, but did not seem to have any greater appreciation for his horrific schemes beyond that. Her facets had settled into a non-plussed bluey green. Tussbuul, perhaps, was not so oblivious.

"I find that once a creature gets around runner-size it is indeed best to let them do as they please. They tire of freedom eventually. But perhaps how you act now will inform that future beast."

Mengsk had quickly arrived as the scent of meat hit his nose, watching his surroundings intently. Tusk was the primary focus of his investigations until Lisk galloped up to him. She was still very intriguing to him, with her primal nature and such, and her long speech amused him.

Mengsk hungry too, he said simply, flicking one stubby wing in an approximation of a shrug as he looked back to the meat pile. He was slowly but surely learning how to exhibit appropriate body language, but it always seemed hollow and too sharp, too rehearsed. When protocol discovered, Mengsk eat too. Lisk have... what word... first choice, yes. Go, Lisk. Discover protocol, besides sharing protocol. Lisk eat fill. More meat than fill Lisk. Lisk share. He attempted to give her a friendly nuzzle, then returned to his watching. He had no idea Lisk was trying to impress him. If he'd known, he would've assured her that it was unnecessary, that she had already impressed him just by being her natural, primal self.

Mengsk stood back as he watched the other wherets attempt to retrieve meat from the pile with varying success. He tilted his head sharply to one side, mentally conversing with his handler, getting her opinion on what the necessary protocol was.

The perfect-bodied brown wher strode up, head held high. He moved gracefully as he approached. He stopped before Tusk, settling down on his haunches. The greens and blues of his eyes whirled slowly as he regarded the adult green, her pile of meat, and the miscreant wherets she was attending to.

Greetings, Tusk, he said politely. Sustenance detected. Hunger levels high. Mengsk requires meat. Protocol indicate polite discourse required, food is reward. He tilted his head sharply one way, than the other way, studying Tusk. Polite inquiry. Mengsk ask permission for meat before attempt take meat for meal. Mengir suggest this required. Mengsk may have meat? he asked. Then he sat there patiently, waiting, studying Tusk and Jafask. He was intrigued by Jafask, but knew his handler didn't trust the little Iron. Everyone knew by that point how the Iron had hurt a lot of people, as had Rask.

He was determined to set an example. He was flawed when it came to being a primal wher, but he was perfect physically, and his mind was sharp. They would be his example in how to behave like other whers, he would be their example in etiquette and intellect.

---

Narask, on the other hand, wasn't anywhere near as polite as the pale brown.

He was cunning. He was calculating. And he was hungry. He escaped Naras' clutches, thoroughly sick of the Harper's examinations and his little black flit Halfnote, following the scent of the meat. The ice-blue wheret stood off to one side, staring, watching the other wherets. His brothers Jafask, Rask, and Dardrask had certainly made a mess of things. He didn't approve in the least how they'd gone in and gotten their butts handed to them.

So he dashed off towards Tusk. He preferred the short, simple methods. Tusk was the obstacle. The obstacle needed to be removed. He felt Naras clamp down hard on his mind at that thought. He wasn't allowed to try and kill Tusk. That ruined his entire plan, and made him grumpy. Eyes whirling red, he changed course to wordlessly steal some meat, trying his best to escape before Tusk could discipline him as she'd disciplined his less-intelligent, as far as he viewed them, brothers.

Jafask had been ignoring Lisk until he had been foiled by the green wher dropping on top of him, firmly pinning the chaos-machine in place. It didn't throw him for much of a loop, however. The iron wheret simply lay still and let both do as they wished. He had already managed to irritate Lisk, she was a terribly easy target. Tusk would be a different story. The iron wheret retreated into silence as he contemplated what direction to go in next.

His handler was caught by Tussbuul's question. "Of course I... When he's behaving, I do. Sometimes even when he's not." Jafari shuffled uncomfortably. Yes, he did like his wher. A lot. He was his. Though who that statement described was a bit up in the air. "And he seems to like me well enough, I guess." But how to show how to act? Jafask wasn't inclined to take orders. Heck, even getting him to pay attention long enough to not send chaos rippling through his classmates could be a challenge, though Rask helped. If he thought about it... Well, that was something to mull over later, there were more immediate concerns at hand. But that didn't mean he dismissed Tussbuul. "I'll keep that in mind, Sir."

Jafask, in the meanwhile, was plotting. Tusk have Jafask. Tusk have Jafask but no other babies. Babies too much. Babies take meat, leave Tusk nothing. Tusk no good at protecting meat. It was a taunt, testing the waters to see how Tusk would react to it. Lisk was distracted and Tamarisk was negligible in his plots for now. His more immediate concern was getting out from under the green wher and getting some of the meat.

Tusk's head tilted a couple times at Tamarisk, or as the green knew her: TAMARISK. A chirp signed her consent to the blocky cyan. But Tamarisk did more than crowd the pile. Her addition seemed to clog the very air, and the meat guardian's neck stiffened in a prim arch as her eyes flicked between the suddenly many, many wherlets under her care. Mengsk's address drew a stare, and Tusk's jaw clenched, a fang or two glinting out from under her lips. She bobbed her head, even twisting her long neck 'round to retrieve the first bite for the brown. She dropped it on his snout.

"Hah! There is no bothering Tusk," Tussbuul insisted.

Narask was many things but camouflaged he was not. The warden was tracking his pristine blue body all the way to the pile and her mouth came after him, gums flashing their slimey, yellowy valor to the world as she tried to catch him mid-bound and toss him away. Another baby! Lisk was a little more reassuring, with her copying of the proper method for dealing with tiny monsters like Jafask. But Lisk was herself tiny, and Tusk backed up a pace, her rump painted by the remaining wherry meats as she eyed the other green.

This gave Dardrask plenty of time to clamber onto the green's skinny back. Though she blinked her inner lids in rapid white flutters as his little hooks dappled her spine, Tusk did not even turn around to address the fiend. She only ducked her head to keep his exit leap from smacking the back of her skull. "What ever do you mean?" Tuss wondered back at Dardranel. "He's energetic!"

Likewise, Jafask, for all his shininess, could not command the green's attention back on point. Her jaws gaped as she searched around the room for further intruders, her weight swayed from leg to leg and her tail dripping to the floor.

Then it arrived: the breaking point. It was no higher than a firelizard. It was talking, but that was not the point.

It was the overpopulation. The cloying, pressing heat of publicity. The sudden realization of exhibition. Tusk rose high above the wherlets, standing on her hind legs, taller even than most men but a grotesque of the bipedal form. Her front pairs of toes spread wide, claw-tips clicking against the open air. Above it all, but somehow unable to escape...

TOO MANY BABIES! she screamed, in mind and in voice, then howled off down the hall back to the depths of the Wherhandlers' Quarters, charging into the underground lake and slipping under without a trace. Tuss watched her go, then raised both palms to Tisk.

"Completely guilty."