kireon
Candidatemaster
kirct[M:-191]
Posts: 739
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Post by kireon on Sept 7, 2012 0:21:33 GMT -5
If that terror had come anywhere near her, she'd have punted him back into his nest. Her legs were strong enough to, and she kicked like a demented draft beast on top of it. He could make her day, she'd be willing to be booted from the program and risk Kalesk or Yusk eating her foot as a result. Totally worth it, little bastard needed to be taught who the boss was, especially after all the carnage he'd caused. That's another one she'd turn into a shoe, Cilia decided as she kept a wary eye out. Any other whers decided to come after Tesla and she'd be more than willing to put a foot where the sun shone the least.
Her relief at Tesla being Impressed caused her to relax, just a bit. The brave little long-legs had jumped in and had taken responsibility. Pretty little baby she was too, the gray eyed woman took a moment to admire the white's pretty hide and the large eyes that focused entirely on Tesla, and occasionally the larger green who examined her.
Speaking of trouble, her eyebrow quirked at the blue with the odd patterns on his back. Up to no good, just on his face alone, she'd bet a week's worth of marks on that one. You should get over here, we can have all the fun during wherling classes pranking the hell out of Ciali and her wher. It'll be great fun. She thought at the blue, smiling to herself. She could teach a wher a thing or two about getting into trouble, and doing it right too.
The bronze hadn't escaped her notice, rocky in hide as he was, and he had the biggest head she'd seen on a wher in her life. She bit her lip in an effort not to laugh at the sight of him. She loved this clutch, she really, truly did. Each one hatched was more interesting and amusing than the last.
The blue's howl caught her attention again, what was his problem? Scared for his brothers or what? That'd be amusing, separation anxiety, that'd be new for a wher amongst his fellow hatchlings.... and why was he running towards Yusk?
Movement caught the woman's eye, again, and she started, looking surprised at the bronze staring right back at her. One hand settled on her hip, eyebrow cocked in the bronze's direction as if asking him if he had a problem. Fathead, she could feel him judging her, she could play that game too really. She was awesome, damn it, if he didn't think so, he could go chase himself and be done with it.
Apparently he had something to say, as he decided to plop down rather heavily on her feet. She scowled down at the baby wher. Cilia preferred not having broken or sore feet, thanks, and he was heavy enough to be uncomfortably weighty on said extremeties. Quit being fat on my feet, I need those. She thought at him sternly.
Much to her surprise, he spoke back. Cilisk here.[/i] A pause, giving her a stern look. Not fat, muscle. Learn difference, Cilia.[/i] Disapproval was clear in his voice. Cilia clearly needed him, she wouldn't be better unless he was with her. And she had to be better, she had to make him look as good as he definitely made her in the eyes of others.
While muscle weighs more than fat, that's about all that's in that head of yours. Off. My. Feet. Or you get popped in the snout, fathead. She was dazed from Impression, but not dazed enough to be unaware of the whole pissing contest going on between she and her wher. Oh no, she was the boss, and it'd stay that way. She hadn't gone twenty six years whooping on her infinitely stubborn and tempermental red headed sister and anyone else who decided to present a challenge to her for nothing.
Cilisk's eyes burned red. No. He would not fall prey to her immature ways. Her careless words were just another reason she needed him; she needed help censoring and choosing her words carefully. He was good at that, he prided himself on that. Cilisk not moving until danger past. Leader protects.[/i] He was very proud of himself for this conclusion. Will take Cilia fist if snout is bopped.[/i] He added as an afterthough. Will put Cilia into misbehave corner like little wher.[/i]
"You're not even half my size, you can't do that." So thrown off by the wher's declaration of putting her in time out like she was a weyrbrat all over again, she actually spoke aloud to the stubborn wher. It was like someone took Ciali, Vak on a bad day, and herself and threw them into a blender, poured it into an egg and it hatched into this lunkhead.
Cilia test?[/i] He asked in response.
**
This was unfair. No. This was beyond unfair, this was something he didn't even have a word for. NONE. No words for this. Fuming wasn't what he was doing. There were no words strong enough for that either. He hung, growling weakly to himself and to anyone who listened- which was usually just Yusk and Yuri, the two leg who kept shaking his head whenever he looked over. He'd shake that two leg's head alright, whatever that meant, but he'd shake it all the same.
Growling at the approach of several more whers, he paused a moment in his cranky state. They were... the light switched in his head. Eyes fading to a yellowish color that might have had a tinge of green in it as he hoped for the best. He had cronies! His boys were coming to spring him loose. These weren't like that wretched green, or that sharding white at all; they were like him. He grumbled up at his dam, reluctantly agreeing enough to not do anything too bad like that blue was trying to convince her of.
Too bad said dam was such a daft beast that she believed every word. The moment the mighty weight of her slender paw was removed, he immediately leaped to his feet, giving a disdainful glower to Yuri... and bounded over to the blue to give him a thorough inspection and a whuff of what might have been gratitude. He was back, you see, and it was time for them to get revenge. He liked that word, and would take great pride in dishing it out- and did the blue have a plan? He placed himself at the blue's right flank, staring back at the candidates the same way the blue was.
That chuckle meant good things, he just knew it.
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Gray
Wingrider
grayct[M:-350]
Posts: 870
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Post by Gray on Sept 7, 2012 0:37:00 GMT -5
It only struck him when Tius informed him. A blood bond. He remembered vaguely hearing of it, probably from Tius himself. But he had completely forgotten. Sheepishly, he grinned at the older man. “Oh. Uh, yes! I'll have to do that!” Looking at Bifrosk, he smiled hesitantly. He was going to mess this whole thing up, wasn't he? He didn't know much about whers. But Bifrosk seemed to be there to stay He frowned a bit but settled on going to the feedign area. Surely someone there would have a knife.
Setting Bifrosk down, he hesitantly scratched the back of his head. “Does anyone have a knife I could borrow?” Meanwhile, Bifrosk took it upon himself to explore some. He trundled over to where his green sister had a bowl of food and sniffed about, surely she wouldn't be so mean now that she had a human of her own. He was rewarded with a snarl for his efforts. Eyes hirling distressed colors, Bifrosk dropped down and curled up. His would come save him soon enough.
Bif, for the time being hadn't noticed much, while waiting for a reply, he noticed Bifrosk was gone. But where? With the browns hide, it could be difficult to see him in the sands. “Bifrosk?” After a moment he finally spotted his sandy little partner all curled up, nubby spikes poking out. Oh dear. This seemed like it would be a 'thing' for him. Sighing, he slipped over and nudged the brown with his foot. “Come on. Don't bother them, we'll find another bucket, I'm sure.” After a moment, the brown uncurled and plodded over to Bif. Abrask no like. Bifrosk eat... not here. A glare was given to the green. He had not forgot the damage she caused. But that was a battle for another day.
–
Thoughts slipped through his head like lazy fairies. Dancing around and pulling his attention from the eggs. Man. What was his sister's wher like? He didn't ever think she'd impress a blue. Maybe a fancy little green lady, or some kind of big, terrifying iron. But blue. Well. He liked that color. Very pretty. He did look like a pretty blue, so light and teal-y. And those spots were cool. Yea, he liked those.
Letting his thoughts trail off, his attention wandered back to the sands, where Yusk's son was once again being a pain. This time in the sands. Ugh. He had followed that green and caused quite the ruckus from the last time he looked. Maybe he'd offer to do some calm training next time there were Wher eggs. Like, just sit down, pet them and have the harpers play lullabies. Maybe that would make the next ones less angry. That was a good idea.
His eyes followed the black on his rampage, and he winced as more people were attacked. He did see red for a moment as his sister was attacked though .No fair! She was feeding her wher, she was off limits. Fists clenched and eyes narrowed. Oh he would have stern words for that black. It didn't stop though, it just moved on and focused on Tesla, he didn't know the girl, he barely knew her name. But this black seemed to hate her. In all this fracas he didn't even notice the white had hatched until it tackled it's brother.
Dita sucked in a gasp. Oh it was pretty, and rare from the little he knew about genetics. He just hoped the pair didn't kill each other. This was all very unzen. After the hatching, if e didn't impress, he'd need some time to fish. Some time just to enjoy the world. The fight did end though, eventually. And the white went to impress the injured girl. And that wasn't the end!
A bronze and a blue hatched, the later a rather large fellow. Dita could appreciate that, he looked strong. The blue on the other hand? Well, he was confused on how it was acting. It was like it didn't want to impress. Which he heard happened sometimes, young whers preferring to go wild. This blue though wasn't just skipping off. No he was... Well it looked like he was rallying the blacks. This probably would not end well. Dita frowned slightly as it continued, but at least the bronze was having none of this and went to impress to one of the girls.
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Post by Frangipani on Sept 7, 2012 0:51:36 GMT -5
Ah, it was all dissolving into chaos again. O’wen grinned to himself, particularly as whers began to approach the stands. This was all just too brilliant. It was indeed a show he would be unlikely to forget any time soon. Almost like his own hatching… except more violent. When the wher climbed up onto his sister, his amusement doubled – even if he was a little perturbed by the violence with which she expressed he distaste for it. He watched as the wher flew away again down to the sands and patted Naanell cajolingly on the head. And then she was attacked again – on the leg this time. She seemed to be getting quite a bit of attention from the newborns, which was interesting. “Yes, indeed! Is it not the most glorious show you have ever seen??” He laughed a little, allowing her to keep a tight grip on his shirt. He wasn’t about to take her hand off when she seemed about to faint, which begged the question as to why he was laughing. He leaned over and wiped a little blood off her face from where the wher had climbed up her, not that it did much good. “Come now, where is the adventure without a little danger! And fun! But also danger!” He paused a moment, realising this was probably not something she wanted to hear. “Anyway, healers are around… you can go to them afterwards.” * * * Lachask watched his children with some degree of displeasure. They appeared to be acting out. A lot. A low growl grew deep within his throat as the young whers’ progress. He liked the others. But there was no order, no pride. Just violence for some of them. He certainly did not care much for the blue. Were not ordered, babies. Where order was? Where nice whers? He asked Lachan, disgruntled, for the moment ignoring the nice whers just to make his point. Lachan only laughed at this, remembering a decent amount of violence at the hatching where he had impressed Lachask. He patted the bronze on the back of the neck, shaking his head. Lachask looked at his handler, confused. What, Lachan laughed?
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Post by thyme on Sept 7, 2012 0:52:48 GMT -5
Owethu's excited expression began to fade into abject horror as the hatching proceeded. The first egg hatched and bonded to its handler without too much of a fuss though the blue certainly made a squealing racket before doing so. The black that had hatched continued to sneak around the sands but there seemed to be no threat in his prowling. Then the blindingly bright green hatched and contented herself with poking and pawing at the other eggs until she found the egg that snapped back. It was all downhill from the appearance of the dark green wher. There was ichor and blood everywhere. There were mauled candidates trying to shake off their injuries, grievously wounded whers, and spectators reeling back in fear from whers that didn’t seem to feel the need to spare them.
Why exactly had he come to the weyr again? He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the blood bath on the sands when he heard someone plop down into the seat next to him. It was mildly funny, not at the moment but later perhaps, that the person complimented his seat choice because he was just thinking the exact opposite. He should have chosen a seat way back in the sands, at the very back, actually. He tore his eyes away with blatant shock on his face when she assured him that it was good that no one was dead yet. Dead? Yet? He recognized the woman who had sat next to him a beat later and managed to stutter out, “Ca-can-Candidatemaster?” The greeting came out more like a shocked question than a greeting. “Are dragon hatchings like this?” If they were he had been lured here under false pretenses! There was no way he was standing in front of a blood thirsty mob thinking welcoming thoughts at them. No way!
Owethu was frozen in terror as the black barreled his way up the stands before the boy knew quite what was happening Jasmine arched her body so as to shield him from the wher’s raking claws. The black didn’t linger but was off to see what more damage he could cause. Owethu opened and closed his mouth several times looking paler and paler by the second. He was going to puke. He was totally going to puke all over his Candidatemaster. Shards! Shards! Shards! He had literally just sat by and watched his Candidatemaster get mauled. What was worse was that she was protecting him! He could almost hear Eller’s crowing voice ‘you let your candidatemaster get mauled to protect yourself?’ and ‘you let a woman stand between you and ferocious beast?’. He stood up as soon as Jasmine began to limp down towards the healers. He should do something not just stand there bouncing on his toes anxiously like a five Turn old but that was exactly what he did.
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Azhdarchid
Jr. Weyrwoman
azhct[M:-1490]
Totes.
Posts: 1,627
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Post by Azhdarchid on Sept 7, 2012 1:03:41 GMT -5
Tussbuul missed the black comet streaking across the Sands toward his back. He felt another press to his leg, like the brown had bestowed on him, and then the anomaly tore away before he had even heard Mya's answer to his question. As she spoke, the miner's eye was drawn down his robes to the hem just above his knees. He twisted his left leg to one side. A piece of it was missing, and the gap gushing blood. Some of it had gotten on the bottom of the robe, but most was painting the back of his ankle and the end of his sandal red.
"Oh, didn't think so," he murmured in a dismissing acknowledgment of Mya. He didn't really need her asking what had prompted the inquiry. Tuss adjusted his cane, putting more of his weight on the injured leg and watching the blood flow out a little more quickly. It slowed up after that, meaning either that was the worst of it, or that he was simply running out of blood to ooze. The pain reached him like sharp smell with a distant source, hard to take on its face value. He was more insulted that the black had one for the only good leg he had left.
The other very real possibility was that he'd been taken over by the sensation, and his present serenity was in fact a farce of overtaxed nerve endings. He raised his head in an attempt to recover, and found the Hatching's landscape vastly altered. The black that had taken the bite out of him was just leaving his mother's administration again, turned over to a band of hooligans that included the egg-wher and a new blue that must have scurried out while he was preoccupied. A glint at the corner of his eye drew his attention to a lump of a bronze, already bonded. He didn't even notice the tiny white with her new handler.
After eyeing the group of young male monsters a second time, he turned and started limping clear of Mya and other out-of-place Candidates. He tried to get himself away from them, into his own little spot in the Sands where any interaction would not involve collateral damage.
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Kestrel
Wingrider
kestct[M:821]
Posts: 374
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Post by Kestrel on Sept 7, 2012 1:23:09 GMT -5
The blue wher Vrell had grown up knowing at her hold had been moody, gruff, and, without a doubt, dangerous if left unattended too long. Not necessarily because he was ruthless by nature, but largely because he couldn’t seem to realize that a warning bite or an aggravated slash could be a lot more damaging to a human’s skin than to tough, thick wher hide. She had learned to be cautious, and that some injury was part of the risk taken when interacting with whers. But she had not met—had not been entirely prepared—for a wher whose sole interest seemed to be ripping and terrorizing others until he was coated in their blood. Even animals—even the very feline who had taken Vrell’s eye—attacked for a purpose, for food or self defense. As far as Vrell could tell, there was no such rhyme or reason to the black wher’s brutal assault. He was simply rage and violence incarnate.
Vrell wasn’t afraid—worried, maybe, but Vrell’s philosophy was to never be afraid—even small creatures could best large ones if they were brave and self-assured enough. And while the wher was actually much smaller than she was, it was certainly better equipped with natural weapons. But she had come to Dalibor for a wher, and she would not allow anything to drive her away from the sands until either a wher chose her, or every one of them to hatch rejected her. So she simply watched with stony silence as the black charged around the sands, drawing blood wherever he went.
With all the chaos, she might not have noticed that another egg had hatched, but the bright white hide of its occupant caught her eye at once, and she had to blink to make sure she had really seen it right. Surely it was just a very light blue? A light green? But no, it was white. Well, that brought a bit of a smile back to her face. While Vrell had heard white whers hatched sometimes, she also knew that, like white dragons, they were very rare. Seeing one hatch must surely be a good omen, right?
Apparently, it was, though not right away. Vrell had no sooner taken her eyes off the black to watch the white, it seemed, that the violent wherlet was charging through her section of the candidates, and she hissed in pain, teeth clenched and leg jerking forward, as the black’s claws raked across the back of her leg, near her knee. She screwed her eyes shut for a moment, slowly reopening them once the harshest initial sting of pain had subsided, staring down the black as he began fighting with his white sibling. After a long, truly nerve-wracking moment where Vrell worried the rampaging black might kill the newly hatched white, their mother intervened, carrying the angry little beast away.
Vrell looked with anxious eyes to see what had become of the white, and was relieved to see the little wher appeared to have chosen a handler, though she couldn’t help but be a little disappointed, just like with all the other impressions so far. As had become her habit, she swept her eyes over the eggs, picking out several still unhatched, to remind herself that there must be at least a few more whers out there who might pick her, yet. She could be patient.
In the midst of all the violence, Vrell hadn’t even notice that one of the largest two eggs had hatched into a bronze, but this was the first thing she noted on her inspection. The little (well, he was big for a newly hatched wher!) guy was hard to miss, and he was so bumpy and bulky in appearance, even for a wher, that she had to smile at the sight of him. There was a little blue now, too—another cute one, she thought—though what exactly was he doing? He certainly didn’t seem too thrilled by the sight of all the candidates, seeming to much prefer the company of the other two blacks she’d noticed milling around. Well, Vrell wasn’t going to worry too much about that—it was nice change to see the wherlets getting along instead of trying to kill each other, if you asked her. Not so nice, though, when they evidently persuaded Yusk to let the little black one go. Not again! But while she watched, expecting him to make another charge at the candidates, nothing happened. At least, not yet. Hopefully if he made a move, the green would be quicker to intervene this time.
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Post by tiger on Sept 7, 2012 9:16:42 GMT -5
Truthfully, with so many different faces on the sands, Pailu felt a bit lost. Not to mention, there were so many little hatchlings running around, fighting, biting.. it was pretty chaotic.
So she missed when the little green strode by her and NIPPED her. Compared to most Wher bites, this one wasn't terrible, but it was enough to draw blood from her hand. The cook jumped a bit, bringing her hand in close to her body where she could examine the break of skin. Well, she'd had worse in the kitchen.
Shaking the blood droplets off onto the sand, she pinched the space behind the cut and gave the green - now Abrask - a dirty look. Oh well, she couldn't help it, really. Whers were cheeky, that was certain. At least the little brown that had passed and nudged her seemed friendly. However, it seemed that anyone she had hopes of talking to or standing next to was either uninterested in company during the hatching or.. well, they were tending to new bonds. Which was great! She'd have to remember to bake them some congratulatory pies later.
Pailu checked the cut on her hand. It was a slow trickle, now. That, she could deal with. Her eyes moved to the whers that were scattered about the sands. So many.
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Ruin
Wingrider
ruinct[M:-786]
We build the worlds we wouldn't mind living in
Posts: 1,137
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Post by Ruin on Sept 7, 2012 14:30:29 GMT -5
He didn’t know what had brought him down here, into the hazy warmth of the Hatching Sands, but then again he didn’t really care to think about it either. For the past two turns every day had been, quite simply, a day: One out of many in a month, a month of many in a season and one season of four in a turn. Duty consumed him, duty to his Weyr, and duty to his woman, or women he would be more likely to say. Not only did he have his sweet Delilah, who always made sure he was properly fed—as well as bedded—there was also his Ayla. The Orange matriarch of his adopted family was twice as mothering as a broody mare and more intimidating. Some days he felt nearly wherry-pecked, but they’d all learned how to cope over time. They had all become, for lack of any better word, a family. In the murky darkness, the firelizard’s eyes whirled curiously as a glowing green, a colour that reminded him of spring in Ruatha, but she was quick to reproach him for not keeping his eyes on where his feet were going: A swift nip to his cheek was all Sebolaren needed as urging to mind his own business.
A dysfunctional family.
Though, to her defense, she wasn’t half wrong. A Herder’s eyes were accustomed to the sun, granted he was well familiar with the troubled walk to that great stone cavern, but this time things were different. True, there was a hatching, which would seem to be typical indeed, but this time it was a wher whose clutch was breaking on the sands, not a dragons. Which, truth be told, seemed to be quite a rare occurrence here in Dalibor, at least when it was a Queen. Did they call Gold whers Queens? Of that he wasn’t certain, however he was certain that tonight would be interesting. He had never even attended the hatching of a wher, though he had been assured that the last memorable one had ended in several deaths. Kalenna didn’t seem like that sort of Handler though, so perhaps everything would go well this time. It would be a pity to have a massacre at the first hatching he had chosen to attend.
Seating had never been much of a problem for Sebol, less so once he became inclined to wander through shadow rather than make a spectacle of himself, so as always he fell into place far in the back against the wall—as apart from the dragonriders and other folk as he could manage. Which was typically hard in a Weyr so large. It was easier to manage now that he was constantly under guard by no less than five firelizards. On happy days such as these they even managed to cohabitate together long enough to blanket his large form in a spread of coloured wing membranes and glowing eyes—though Ayla was quick to chatter them to order if they happened to wander out of their respective (and Orange-chosen) roosting areas. She, the self-appointed Queen of the fair, held her rightful place on his left shoulder, while the overly-large and bulky Brown Baro maintained his right.
It had come as a surprise to the Herder that his young patina-coloured Bronze had not risen to usurp his bossy fairmate, but most days found the youngest member of the fair sleeping safely within the dragonless man’s tunic. Sweet legless Lila had found that Sebol’s head was the most comfortable spot, giving the large man the appearance of having a pink flower in his hair, but this oftentimes made Blue Sigard envious—the tiny twin (not even bigger than his Pink sister) had once called Sebolaren’s shoulder home, but now had found himself pushed down to his bonded’s legs, when he was lucky enough that the man was sitting anyway. At the very least, Vow was nowhere to be found, having outgrown his ability to ride around physically attached to Sebol, the pillie tended to the Weyr waters, or “cleaning” Delilah’s weyr when he found his way up to her chambers.
The hatching progressed quickly, as if the whers—though said to be simpler than their larger cousins—felt that no time need be wasted on subtleties. There was, however, something vicious about the little creatures that caught Sebolaren unawares. If not for Kalesk, who certainly must be a rarity of her kind, the dragonless man was certain the bloodshed would have been greater, perhaps even including casualties. As it so happened, he was allowed to enjoy the hatching in relative peace, musing to himself about the curious non-blue that closely resembled Dalibor’s famous Cyans. It seemed as if firelizards weren’t the only creatures mutating in the Weyr. For all of the attention he paid to the little creatures, green and brown and black as they were, his attention was split between the events below and the realities of his world. There were changes brewing, things he sought to complete that only a journey could teach him.
It was something he had never thought of, and yet something he had considered his entire life, but there was only one person with whom he could discuss its merits. Perhaps after tonight, once this curious hatching was over, he could speak to her about the possibilities. It would be hard, and somewhat nerve-wracking, but two long turns had passed since that dark night, and somewhere inside of himself he felt unwilling to waste another moment on sorrow: Not when there were larger tasks to complete. Sebolaren settled back into his shadowed seat, blanketed in the soft small bodies of his many friends, and decided that he would simply enjoy this, his last time in this hot chamber.
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Chek
Weyrlingmaster
chekct[M:-15]
I'm so magical I vomit rainbows
Posts: 1,091
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Post by Chek on Sept 7, 2012 14:45:31 GMT -5
Squished in between Damali and Shino, Dizzy calmed her roiling belly with a few deep breaths, lifting her head from her knees to squint past her fellow herdcraft Apprentice, “That’s a pointy wher, ma’m.”
Damali squeezed the youngster, “Isn’t she just? And smaller girl, you…hm. Damask? Going to take pity on the little ones?”
Damask grunted, but leaned her head forward and to the side, Now jaw itch. Fix, yes.
“You heard her. Just stop when she says, alright?” She turned a wary eye towards the black wher making the biting rounds, Damask causally doing to same as Shino set to work. These were her minions now – little black better steer clear or she’d eat him. She snorted in satisfaction when he moved on without approaching.
Ein, having to track several whers now, made the mistake of turning her attention away from the vicious black once it seemed like he wasn’t that interested in Tesla after all – a mistake. She wasn’t expecting him to leap upon her fellow senior Candidate after he’d wandered off to chew on some of the others.
She was knocked aside again, taking a few stumbling steps forward, before she turned to see what had happened – most of the mauling was already done and the white (where had the white come from?) was already on the defensive. She knelt down beside Tesla, examining but not touching, yet, but was interrupted by the return of the white to the side of the fallen girl – a glance in that direction showed Yusk hauling away her disobedient offspring – and the behavior the little white exhibited made it clear in Ein’s mind what was happening.
“Tesla, if the little one is yours, then we need to get you off the sand. Do you need help to get that far? There are healers waiting.” Ein kept her voice calm and soothing, knowing how upset Tesla most likely was from this.
Across the sands, Tius noticed the other elder male on the Sands wobbling off to one side in the wake of his own savaging, and took a few long strides after him. “Sit before you fall, man. A controlled descent on this hot sand is superior to an uncontrolled fall.” He darted his hand out, hovering behind Tuss’s shoulder, prepared to guide a descent or catch the other man, whichever came first.
Oddinya took a wary step away when the black rushed through and then, once it was passed, leaned over to examine the damage to Vrell with an interested eye. She hummed to herself, but otherwise kept her silence, turning her attention to the whers once again.
The blue and his antics caught her attention, and she clapped a hand to her face in disbelief when he evidently managed to convince the green clutchmother that her son was ready to go back out and play. Ridiculous.
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Lan
Weyrlingmaster
lanct[M:-1025]
Nomming ALL the kidpets!
Posts: 1,266
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Post by Lan on Sept 7, 2012 17:08:16 GMT -5
Tesla had watched in silent trepidation behind Ein as more whers piled on to the sands. The green, thankfully, dismissed her. But it wasn't over yet. That black out there was still on a rampage. Tesla pressed herself as close to Ein as she possibly could without touching any skin. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe she should just run while she still could. There was no way any wher would choose such a terribly broken handler. She was just kidding herself. If she ran now, she could make it. She could make it up the Stands and next to Edison and he would protect her from all the disasters of this hatching. The candidate took a step back. She was waiting to run, willing to get out of here... but fear kept her paralyzed.
"Oh! That's int'resting." Darryl pondered the appearance of the cyan before continuing to watch the rest of the festivities. Cyans were only dragon colors, he had thought. It was weird that they'd show up. But, Dalibor was full of oddities. It was one of the reasons why he liked being there. Everything that happened kept him on his toes. Especially this whole father business. It filled him with excitement and nervousness all blended up into one. However, his reverie was short-lived when he noticed the coming of an angry black. He was coming toward Kire... Darryl's family. The greenhandler gave a growl and stepped in front, eager to be a barrier between the raging black and those he cared about. The action occurred too fast for him to fight back, though. The black sunk its tiny teeth into Darryl's leg and he did his best to kick the sharding thing off and away from his family.
Kisk came to the rescue, though. While Dask moved immediately in front of Kire, Darryl and Kisk were on the front lines making sure the black wher didn't get any closer. Only when the black had retreated did Darryl look back to see if Kire was okay. Dask growled and ran up, sniffing at the injury before she roared across the sands at the dumb little black. No gentleman! No good black! Dask HATE! Dask RUIN if hurt DarrylDask again! Darryl patted her, shushing her softly. It's okay... I'm fine. It's just a nip. Even so, he hobbled a bit as he returned to Kire's side. As he sat he drew his very large knife in case any other wherlets had any similar bright ideas of getting near his family. "You okay?" He asked.
Lonet noticed the other healer, Tedaon, coming and she quickly waved him over. She had finished patching up the one wher and was ready to move on to the next casualty. Good thing, too. The injuries seemed to only get fiercer as the hatching went on and she could help but swear lightly under her breath. "C'mon, darling. I need you, too," she gestured for Tedaon to scrub up as she moved to the next pair to come off the sands. Impa and Abranna were next off the sands and Lonet moved to bandage the non-healer first. Abranna could be tended by Tedaon, if she couldn't tend herself. However, movement on the sands made her realize that even Impa might have to wait. She paused, watching as the violent black made a beeline for one of the smaller girls.
Unfortunately, that beeline included getting far too close to the healer's camp than Lonet was comfortable with. Losk, now rid of his burden of carrying supplies, moved under the nudging of his handler to intercept the black before he could get any further. Unfortunately, it wasn't before the newly-Impressed Dota could fall under fire. Losk warbled, more anger in his roar than ever really occurred. No! No hurt! Away! Away, Losk says! He positioned himself next to Dota, a wrinkled frown on his face.
Dota hissed between clenched teeth as the pain took her entirely by surprise. Dosk, meanwhile, was furious. OH NO DIDN'T! HOW DAAAARE! DOSK'S DOTA! NO HURT DOSK'S DOTA! ONLY DOSK'S DOTA NOT DUMB WHER DOTA! UGLY WHER! STUPID WHER! VILE WHER! NO HURT DOSK'S DOTA EVER AGAIN! DOSK... Dosk... Umm... DOSK STAB. DOSK STAB IF HURT AGAIN! The cyan keened and cried and stamped her feet against the indignity of it all. How dare he! Dota shushed her and tossed another piece of meat her way to keep her preoccupied. He's just a scared little boy, Dosk. You should feel sorry for him. The cyan gave another one of her hmphs and continued to eat.
Lonet, meanwhile, was beginning to realize she might not have enough healers on the ground to handle this. "Tedaon... can you look after the feeding wherling that was just attacked? I can look after this one, sugar," she smiled at Impa, then continued, "Also, Abranna... can you tend to yourself and your wher? I have a feeling we'll need all the hands we can get. Use as many supplies as you need." She glanced over at the sands again only gasp in horror.
Tesla screamed. Her cries of pain and agony echoed into the chamber long after the initial contact. Instantly she fell to the ground, at the mercy of this tiny devil that seemed intent on taking her from the world. Tears streamed down her face and into her hands as she tried to shelter her head from the strikes and the blows. "NO! PLEASE! STOOOOP!" Sobs mixed with pleas for help as she screamed with every blow she received. She felt the creature's firm grip on her shoulder like an intense burning. She felt the sting of ever slash across her back as it turned her flesh into hamburger. There was a moment's pause and Tesla used it to prepare herself for the worse. This tiny creature was going to kill her. She'd never see Pern again. She'd never see Edison or T'von or Ondine or Tedaon... and she'd certainly never see the wher that might have chosen her.
But a savior came. Tesla heard a skirmish behind her and she expected the worse. But the angry growls moved away. She peeked out from behind her arms to see a valiant white wher pushing the other away from her. Tears turned sand and dust into mud on her face and she stayed put where she had fallen, not wanting to draw attention to herself. Then, suddenly, the fighting had ended. She didn't see what had happened. She didn't want to. The next thing she saw, though, was the white cuddling up next to her. Tessk sorry, not fast enough. Tessk will be next time. Tesla stay, not make wound worse. Tessk be here for Tesla always.
"Tessk..." Tesla replied, sniffling. She tried to move to hug the white, but she thought better of it. Tessk was so pretty! She didn't want to spoil that white with red from her bleeding wounds. Tessk no mind. Hug Tessk. Tessk sorry. She moved closer and Tesla threw her arms around her, snuggling her face into the nook of Tessk's neck. Her Tessk. Her beautiful, lovely, guardian Tessk. They would be together always. Tessk licked her wounds gingerly, trying to clean some of the blood off of her handler, and then nuzzled her head against Tesla's body.
The next move Tesla made was when Edison's voice reached her ears. She opened her eyes and looked up longingly, then nodded. Ein was momentarily forgotten. Edison was her brother. He was her family, now along with Tessk. If anyone could take care of her, he could. "Thank you," she sniffed, removing her arms from Tessk so that she could curl them around his neck as he picked her up. Tessk allowed the action. She could sense Edison's desire to help. He loved Tesla as much as she did. Tessk, then, watched Esk as the green sniffed her. She made no response, though. No response was needed. As her handler was moved, she abandoned the green and moved to trot alongside. Never would she allow Tesla out of her sight again! She would always be there, until the day breath left her body.
Andru watched the proceedings with increasing dread. Aging out of candidacy was terrible, but watching wher candidates full of hope as they got mauled to death was quite a different brand of horrific. He grasped Mya's hand tightly and pulled her close to him, not caring that it might seem improper due to their never having met before. But it seemed right. It seemed instinctive. "A lot of people are being attacked, it seems," he told her with a grave softness, finally having the steadfastness of mind to respond to her question. "Just stick with me, okay? It'll be fine. I don't think the mothers are letting anything get too out of hand." It was a lie on his part. He held no assumptions that either of the clutchmothers could get to someone in time for them not to be killed. But he might as well make her feel better. Not everyone should be burdened with the same realism he suffered from.
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Cathaline
Lady Holder
cathct[M:50]
Posts: 3,279
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Post by Cathaline on Sept 7, 2012 17:15:28 GMT -5
The blue sauntered back toward the bunch of candidates, expecting the blacks to spread out behind him. Ugh, they were going to look so awesome as a group! No one would be able to stand up to them. Absolutely no one. Well, Cilisk gave him a little pause, but in the end he just gave the bonded bronze a wide berth. Just let him try to take on all four of them at once! But seriously, he shouldn’t, because they were only doing what was right for their species. His first target, naturally, was Tussbuul. Try to limp away, would he? We’ll just see about that! With a jerk of his head to indicate the target to his squad, he ranged around behind Tuss, growling. He was positive Yusk’s black would fall in, and the oily black was still imitating him perfectly. He was rather disappointed in the fact that the patchy black seemed rather aloof, and presently wandered off on his own quest. But in the meantime, the rest of the crew nipped and hassled Tuss right back toward the group. The patchy black went to sit in front of Oddinya, staring up at her. She was so short that even at his size, he didn’t have to crane his neck too much. He liked that. Her eyepatch was examined with interest, and so was her skin, as much as he could see of it in this dark cavern. But he took his precious time over his observations. He had to, because they were interrupted frequently by him twitching, tilting or turning his head in suspicion over the behaviour of the other candidates and whers. No one was directly threatening him, however, so that was all okay...for now. In the meantime, the gang of whers finished their tussle with Tuss, and moved on. Unfortunately for Naitia, they moved on to her. The blue glared up at her, his eyes shifting into the red. What was this? If his dam knew this imposter was here, she would be dead right now. He could sense her closed-off, narrow mind. She didn’t like whers, and that made her the ultimate enemy. With a fierce shriek of outrage, he flung himself at her, bearing her to the ground. This was where the oily black drew the line. He wavered and broke away from the crowd; violence wasn’t his thing, and he was beginning to feel unsafe again. With a frantic look around, he spotted Cilisk. Yes, he would be Cilisk. Cilisk had made a series of very proper decisions. The problem was, the oily black couldn’t remember the exact order of those decisions, so the first thing he did was sit down on Andru’s feet. Only after a few moments did he realise that more was expected of him. And also, he was in slightly the wrong place. Mysk is protecting?[/i] he suggested, but he sounded a bit baffled about it. Mya sucked in a breath as his mind settled into hers. Poor little guy. So much of himself was locked tightly away, to protect against largely-imagined threats. Through the glow of Impression, she crouched down and gave him a gentle pat. “We’ll protect each other,” she promised. Through the jumble of his confused memories, she finally came to understand, seeing-without-seeing, what Tuss had been talking about with the egg-wher, and started to giggle. Mysk giggled too and forgot all about pretending to be Cilisk. He was Mysk and she was his Mya. The girl didn’t look up at Andru, of course, but she did say, “We have to get going. You’ll be all right.” Although that wasn’t exactly something she could promise the poor boy. MYSK THE DITTO, IMPRESSED TO MYA (120916)
If it were even possible to get to know the real Mysk - which, for everyone but Mya, it’s not - one would find a cautious but kind-hearted observer with a well-developed sense of the hilarious and absurd. Unfortunately, Mysk is far too anxiety-ridden to open up to anyone. Socially inept, he would be too paralyzed with the fear of bad things happening to even move if he didn’t have the perfect defense mechanism. There’s no emotional danger if one simply pretends to be somebody else, so that’s how he lives his life. For the most part, he will ooze from role to role, mimicking whatever wher, dragon, human, beast, fish, or even inaminate object happens to tickle his fancy. When he feels the situation does not call for imitation of whatever he’s facing (it would be stupid to pretend to be a red to that red’s face, for example), he will attempt to disguise himself from memory - but sadly, being a wher, this memory is imperfect and he will tend to forget key features. The only way to get him to stop pretending for a little while is to make him laugh: Mysk feels that his sense of humor is a weakness that enemies can use to hurt him, but if he can be made comfortable enough to drop his guard, he’s a real sweetheart.
Mysk is exactly average, unexceptional in any way, at least when he’s at rest. In truth, he is extraordinarily flexible, capable of shifting his body into positions that make him appear to be larger or smaller than he truly is, enabling him to mimic even the physicality of others. Color-wise, though he is obviously a black, his hide comes with an oily sheen; for the most part, it appears to be an incredibly dark purple, but in certain lights it possesses strange gleams of other hues.
They were well out of it, really, because the blue was making a spirited attempt to stomp Naitia into the ground. Wrong! Bad! Didn’t belong here! He called over to the patchy black, demanding his assistance in removing the interloper from existence. Abandoning Oddinya, the patchy black slunk over and peered down at Naitia instead. There was a lot to sort through, here. Her fear was sour, her hatred sharp. He didn’t understand either, why she’d come here, until he delved a little deeper, and then deeper still. So smart and so ambitious, and yet so wrong about some things. Unlike his blue brother - how funny and sad, that the one to take exception to her should be a traditional color - he did not bother to take offense to her views. Just like Naitia, he knew that the misguided and misinformed could be salvaged. Before he could make her see, however, he had to run off her attackers. Yusk’s black came first, and in a flash, the patchy black turned on him like a rabid wherry. Despite being far smaller and not as well-built, he had surprise on his side. The other black could go back to shanking anyone else, but not Naitia. When the blue turned in surprise at this betrayal, the patchy black barreled into him, sending them both rolling away. But the blue didn’t want to fight other whers, so with a dismayed squeak, he broke off. This left the patchy black free to return to the thoroughly-trampled Naitia, and he licked gently at a trickle of blood. Naisk sorry,[/i] he apologized. It was probably the least true Impression statement of all time. He wasn’t really sorry for not being what she expected, and there was an undercurrent of steel beneath his meekness. She was so valuable and precious, and she would do so many great things in her life with him by her side. But she was wrong about whers, and she was wrong about blacks. She didn’t belong up there in the sky risking her life to Thread. They were both much too smart for that. But all that, he left unspoken. They were together now; she could feel it if she tried, so why waste the words? He looked around, listening for more threats. They really needed to get off these horrible sands before the blue came back to have another go. NAISK THE NIDORAN, IMPRESSED TO NAITIA (000000)
Naisk is fairly intelligent, for a wher; more importantly, he wants to be intelligent. Well aware that he cannot match other whers physically, he knows his mind is his one true asset, and shares with Naitia a belief that being observant and knowing all the facts is the only way to survive. Unfortunately, like all whers he doesn’t have the best memory, but that’s what Naitia is for: he provides the information, she does things with it. Due to being very small and even more hobbled in the eyesight arena than most whers, Naisk is an alert, nervous type, not very talkative due to the need to hear things around him and listen to himself think at the same time. He is highly suspicious of noises and, in fact, of virtually everything around him. In general, he behaves as more of a sentry than a guard, preferring to run rather than fight where at all possible. However, his apparent docility while he’s observing can, in a tight corner, turn into violence as fast as lightning; if he feels threatened or fears that Naitia is in danger, he becomes extremely aggressive, using his sharp teeth and spiny body to his advantage. He is very much aware of how Naitia feels about his color, but he’s too strongly drawn to her mind and ambition to let that bother him - much. As timid and anxious as he might seem to be with others, he won’t let Naitia bully him. Naisk is determined to get her where she wants to go, and he’ll look out for her along the way.
Naisk is jet black, covered with large patches of dark gray. On the small side for a black, he is a little more squat and stout than most of his color. His teeth are unusually sharp, and his back bears many sharp, spiny ridges. Although he can move silently and swiftly when he needs to, he is often perfectly still, listening and taking things in. He is terribly nearsighted, so he makes up for it with alertness and excellent hearing.
The blue’s emotions were in tatters. His brothers had turned traitor. He had lost control of the squad. He didn’t even care what Yusk’s black did next. He really needed a pick-me-up, and he sadly trailed back over to his egg. And who should appear next but exactly the right person? The pink egg hatched, and a minty green stepped gingerly out and gave a sweet chirp. Darker patches spotted her hide, and her back was a more medium shade. She was nothing like violent Abrask or energetic Abesk. The first thing she did was flop happily into the sand and roll around in it, squeaking with delight. So warm, so nice against her hide! She spotted her brother and paused. Oh, dear! Oh, the poor baby! Never mind that she was also a baby, and a smaller baby at that. He was a baby. She teetered over and glomped him, cooing as she rubbed her head against his shoulder. Oh, he was so sad! She didn’t fully comprehend the complex reasons for his sadness, but she gathered that it had something to do with the little group of two-legs over there. Poor, poor baby. She would have to protect him, and she shoved him into the wreckage of her own egg and promptly sat in front of it, long tail wagging a bit as she surveyed the group. This left seven eggs in Kalesk’s clutch, some rocking, some not, but it was still a little early to determined which would never hatch. There was one certainty, however. The large egg front and center of the clutch, which the blue and green’s eggs had flanked, was very ready now. This was the lady Cilisk had considered offering up to Cilia, but frankly, she never would have touched the girl. Bits flaked off of the creamy shell, but she was taking her sharding time. They were all waiting for her...and soon they would have her, whether they liked it or not.
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kireon
Candidatemaster
kirct[M:-191]
Posts: 739
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Post by kireon on Sept 7, 2012 21:40:09 GMT -5
The blue proved to be his kinda wher, their partnership and alliance could go a long way if they kept this up. His eyes locked on to Tussbuul, again, the one he'd bitten well. Trying to escape, was he? That couldn't be allowed. He growled low in his throat as he and the others 'herded' the man back to the sands.
HA! Two legs never stood a chance against him- them. He had to remind himself that the blue and the other blacks, minus that one bellycrawler was doing his own thing. Naitia was next, and the aggressive little black just waited, tense, ready for orders that quickly came as he leaped at her the moment the blue did. How dare she not approve of them? They were perfect! MUCH better than those overgrown sky cloggers called dragons, they'd show her why they were to be feared!
He bit her leg, sinking his fangs deep into her calf and shook as hard as he could, wanting to cause as much damage as possible. When the blue called over the patchy black, he was pleased. They'd take this one down together, just the three of the- why was he being attacked?! Confusion swept through as he was attacked, barreled out of the way and shook the sand off himself indignantly with a snarl at the patchy wher. He'd been fully prepared to have it go into a good, old fashioned tussle... and then their leader slunk off.
What was with that? It'd be two against one, they'd win that! Grumbling, he glared at the patchy wher. Get him later, the expression said, as he slinked off, giving Dita a mean-spirited slap with his tail and a snarl of warning. He'd bite that one later. If he remembered.
A pause as he looked around for the blue. Where'd his brother-in-plans go? Back to the eggs? WHY? They'd turn traitor too, didn't he see that?! He growled at the blue, demanding he come back and work out a NEW plan, a better one with just the two of them. Those others were weak, two legs made them soft in the head, they'd be better off without them!
Speaking of, he'd just prove himself further, inspire some confidence in the blue. His eyes settled on Pailu and he marched defiantly up to her, glaring at her all the while. He cocked his head as he inspected her. As he'd thought, what good were two legs? Stuffed full of sand these ones, useless. He decided he didn't like her legs, slashing a fair sized gash into her right shin from knee to ankle, and decided, at the last minute, to avoid her toes. He'd go after someone else's toes.
Someone like... that one. Oddinya's toes were promptly chewed on, he figured she'd get a kick in... and took one as a trophy as a result with a couple of firm bites. Kick him, his expression taunted her, he was practically daring her to as he sauntered off, prancing just out of range.
He'd kept the toe, holding it in his mouth as he marched across the sands to go discuss the next step with his brother blue. That was a wher with his priorities straight, and once he saw how easy it was to crunch things off their body, he'd cheer up.
Greens were annoying, he decided a few moments later as, overprotective, the blue's clutch sister refused to grant him access. But he had brought a present, he protested, dropping the toe and growl-barked at the blue to pay attention to him. See? A GIFT. They could get more presents that way, the two leggers were just useless and got all kinds of things taken from them so easily!
**
There was something about having a wher on one's feet that should have been like having forty pounds of herder canine flopped across them. She'd had experiences with beasts being fat on her feet before, but nothing like this big lunkhead with huge eyes and a sulky face. Even that little bastard of a black hadn't managed to ruin her day, though by the yells, curses and such that she heard around her, he was still ruining everyone else's day. Stop being fat on my feet and go do something useful. You know, like eat or go sit on that little pain in the ass going around biting people like he owns the place. You're a bronze, go be a king.
Maybe his Cilia was not so unaware of things as he had initially considered. His eyes narrowed a little as he studied her, looking at her upside down from his position on her feet. It would be a kingly thing to do... and was expected, he was supposed to be the leader after all.
But there was Cilia to consider, and there was that egg, the one he'd considered for his Cilia before he'd chosen to do the task himself, about to hatch... perhaps she would be amiciable to putting the runt in his place. If it was beneath her, he would rise to the occasion and do it himself. But, as he was older, and this one was younger, she would hopefully be inclined to show him the respect someone of his fine rank deserved- without too much bloodshed, he hoped. Cilisk always a king, Cilia know this. Stay until needed, runt come close, Cilisk get him, put in little wher corner like bad egg.[/i] A pause, his eyes slid slyly to one side as he craned his thick neck back a little more to really get a good look at her face. Put Cilia in same corner, maybe behave better.[/i]
I'll behave the day you stop having such a fathead, fathead. She retorted. I've been in more corners than your mind could possibly dream of, they haven't done any good, now have they?
There was something kind of creepy about a wher's smile, especially when it was smug and all knowing.Cilia not put in Cilisk corner. Make difference. Do all good.[/i]
And he still didn't move off her feet, and she still didn't promise to behave herself the way he wanted her to. The battle of stubborn wills thus continued on.
**
How could such an awful little beast be born from his little Yusk? Yuri asked himself this repeatedly, trying to figure out where things had gone wrong, frantically running through his care of Yusk up until the very start of this hatching. Had he done something wrong? Had his actions contributed towards this little terror in some manner?
Yusk nuzzled his hand, bumping against him to draw him out of his thoughts. She wasn't pleased with her bad egg, especially because she knew this was not how things were supposed to go with him. The little blue had said he would keep an eye and be good, bad little blue. She snorted at those on the sands. They were in Kalesk's nest now, if Kalesk needed to smack her wheret around, the queen could certainly do so. She wouldn't have a problem with it, hopefully the queen would just smack, not eat. Bad egg was being bad. Not Yuri faul bad egg. Bad egg happen. Maybe sire fault. Maybe Yusk dam and sire fault.[/i]
She didn't remember her dam or sire very well, but it was possible that some bad eggs came from them. Yuri had often told her sometimes bad eggs came from good eggs. So, it looked like this was a bad egg. She glanced to the unhatched one and bobbed her head. Black wheret different bad egg. That actual bad. No good. It happen. BigQueen smack if bad in nest. Maybe smack two bad egg.[/i] And fell silent, content to watch again as she looked back to the roughly handled candidates.
Some whers were bad, many bite and scratch during raising. Yusk was good girl wher, Tessk, good egg baby, would be a good girl wher too. Not bite and scratch her human, not intentionally. Good egg Tessk. Bad Egg other. Will make bad egg be good, drop him in front candidate, hold down he choose.[/i] Kalesk must have made a big impression on her, Yuri realized, listening to his little lady try and rationalize decisions and make plans.
Big eyes whirred in concern a moment later as she looked at him. That right do? Yuri say yes do?[/i]
Yuri smiled. "Yes," he told her gently, rubbing the top of her knobby head. "yes, we'll do just that. Good girl."
**
Impask bored. Want play tricky-trick more?[/color] A hopeful look in his blue-green eyes as he stared up adoringly at his Impa. He didn't like how worried she was, for something. Maybe it was because bleeding people everywhere. They needed to play tricky-tricks, they'd be happier. Everyone liked tricky-tricks!
No, now is not the time. Her green eyes never left the sands, specifically, never leaving the little beast who kept coming back to dole out more unnecessary injuries on to the candidates. The Healers were certainly getting their work cut out for them, she anticipated long hours into the night- especially for that poor girl who'd impressed the positively adorable little white wher.
There was a sound that definitely reminded her of a woe-begone canine who was begging. An equally pathetic and sad expression was on Impask's face. Why for no?[/i] even his voice, childish and young as it was, had the same kind of questioning that she was sure all children went through.
She smiled at him, distracted, and reached down to pick his knobby, chubby little self up. About the size of a canine pup too, she thought, perfect for carrying. See that wher over there? The black one with the green and blue? He's why we can't play tricky-tricks now. If he attacks, we can't play, I might be hurt.
The idea that someone would hurt Impa was enough to get a good baby growl out of him, and he wiggled in protest against the affection, wanting to be put down. Impask down! Not let bad wher play Impa. Impask only play rough![/i]
The green eyed woman smiled again, refusing to let the squirming bundle of warm hide down. If he charges, Impask can be down to defend. Be still, you'll trick him into thinking you're me.
....Impask be Impa? The squirming stopped as he considered it. If he wasn't moving, they would think he was Impa, like he had tricked her into thinking he was her shadow. Good trick that! He chortled in response to the faint memory. Best trick. Impa had a good idea too. Impask try Impa trick. Hee hee hee. Impask fool other. Am now Impa.[/i] Another burbling chortle.
Impask was master tricky-tricker.[/size]
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Azhdarchid
Jr. Weyrwoman
azhct[M:-1490]
Totes.
Posts: 1,627
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Post by Azhdarchid on Sept 7, 2012 22:00:30 GMT -5
Master Tussbuul stiffened, tugging his shoulder out of Tius' reach and turning sharply toward the other man. What should have been a simple sizing-up lagged first when he realized the height and breadth of the muscular smith, and again when his eye caught on the arm that had not been stuck toward him. Tuss' eyebrows rose as he blinked back up at Tius' heavy jaw.
"Uh." It was a temporary block on what he had meant to say. He pulled himself back mentally, discounting Tius' imposing figure and recalling his own technical rank. For what it was worth. He could stand even with this man, if not above him; height had nothing to do with it. "I'm not going to fall," he protested, voice very firm, patronizing like Tius but without the kindly teacher's touch. "And you don't need to nanny me." He rapped his cane against the side of the smith's leg. "Out of my way."
Despite the grandstanding, it was Tussbuul who sort of stumped around Tius and back the way he came. He had cleared the meeting point by a few awkward lurches when his bloodstained legs came under fire from the resurgent wheret posse, including the devil that had tried to down him in the first place. By tradition- and the threat of a mother's love -he had no right to defend himself.
"Bully," as he had once been called, stood his ground. But the little whers had a very specific agenda, and it was not the pain but the impacts of heavy bodies that finally made his seeping legs stutter. He stepped and the gnashing at the leg he left behind intensified till he followed through. He heard the distinct gnashing of wood as one tiny mouth went for his nontraditional leg and he raised it out of reach, only to get another blow to his back that sprawled him onto his knees in the burning sand once more.
Flecks of gold stuck to his legs, salting the new and old lacerations. Tussbuul rested both hands on the ground beneath him, as uncaring of the temperature as he had been before. He lowered his head, moisture running off his nose.
Then he got back to his feet, again. He paid no more attention to the brats. Seeing children again was one of the blessings of Weyr life, but clearly none of these wanted anything to do with him. His eyes were on those eggs that had yet to hatch.
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Cathaline
Lady Holder
cathct[M:50]
Posts: 3,279
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Post by Cathaline on Sept 8, 2012 3:05:38 GMT -5
Kalesk’s tail lashed, but she did not move. It did not please her to see such chaos on her sands, but it was not her duty to rescue candidates. They were all such suspicious characters anyway, and if they were too stupid or weak to remain unscathed, they deserved whatever mauling they got. She probably would have prevented an actual murder, if given the time, but it was unnecessary. However vicious the wherets got, they seemed more interested in punishment of imagined slights than in doing actual damage. Really, Oddinya could live without that toe.
The large egg finally split open, and a delicate flame emerged. Unlike her cyan sister, easily mistaken for a blue, with her there was no question: she was orange. Bright orange, with cream-colored paws and dark streaks on her tail. She paused to assess the situation, her eyes raking first over the remaining eggs, then her siblings and the black, then the candidates. Well, this was not fair. What was Cilisk doing way over there? For that matter, why was he Cilisk? Further away, why was Bifrosk? Leave her here with the little ones, would they? She had no time for little ones, at least not in the current context. She was itching to prove herself, and there was no joy, no glory in beating an enemy that started at such a disadvantage.
Ew! What was that? That was a toe! He had done that to one of the people over there? She had an innate understanding of what she was supposed to do with the people, and just look at this mess. Most of them were bleeding or on the ground or both, savaged and scared. Some situations did not call for fair combat. Some evil little monsters just needed to be stomped.
The orange acted with haste. With a leap, she bore the black to the ground, talons closing around his throat as she held him down and snarled softly into his face. He might not be her brother, but he had walked onto her side of the sands, injured her candidates, and she wasn’t gonna stand for it anymore! Her talons flexed, and she made it absolutely clear that he was lucky. Maybe Kalesk would not defend the two-legs, and maybe she was no terrifying, volcanic red. But she was bigger than he was, and she was better, and she could have extinguished his life already if she had a mind to.
The green watched all this with horror. Stop the violence! She didn’t like the angry black, and she hugged the blue’s forearm in dismay. The blue, for his part, didn’t know what to do. Whers should not fight other whers, and he pleaded for his comrade’s life. There was good in Yusk’s black, he just knew it! Even if no one else in this room saw it, because no one else in this room understood the danger the two-legs posed to their kind, the blue knew that Yusk’s black was worth saving. All he needed was someone to control him, someone to teach him, and the blue was really sorry, okay? He was sorry he’d gotten distracted from his duty by his own aims. Just let the black go, and the black could “bond” to him (ha! Like they needed to bond, am I right?) and everything would be cool!
This gave the orange pause, and she looked over her shoulder at her brother and gave a short whine. He was...he was angry with her? But she didn’t understand! Wasn’t this the right thing to do? Everybody ought to be singing her praises right now. More importantly, she should be the one getting a hug, and she wilted a bit.
The blue was more than happy to feed her ego. He shook the green off - she toppled onto her back with a squeak - and went to climb onto his sister’s back, peeping into her ear. They were whers. They were strong, and she was strongest of all. She could help him. All she had to do was free the devil, and off they’d go into the wild blue yonder. Nobody here could stop them...because everyone here was busy bleeding to death, but that was not his fault. Not his fault. Naitia had deserved it.
Well, he was okay. She stepped back from the little black, preening once again in the face of her brother’s praise and honeyed words. The orange did not have his desire to go wild, but it was nice for someone to appreciate her. And it helped that the green had shaken herself off and promptly latched onto her sister, crooning. They could all be a big happy family.
Being in charge was nice and all that, but she had business to attend to first. She lapped up the attention from her brother and sister, but they were still such little pipsqueaks. Obviously she deserved their adoration, but she wanted the same from everybody, and that meant proving herself. With a firm growl to the black - she was watching him - she marched off toward the candidates. But she paid no mind to any of them, at least not yet. Instead, she went straight for Cilisk and gave him a friendly headbutt. Hey, big brother, she’d taken care of the threat like the total boss she was, so why not have a game with her? A little competition to prove which of them was the superior wher, a little race from here to there and back again, and whoever tagged Cilia first was just better. But he could keep Cilia. Even if the girl had been available for bonding, the orange found her decidedly lacking.
In the meantime, the blue suggested a new plan of attack to his new posse. It was time for them to bust out of here. He had very little idea of what awaited them outside this cavern, but numbers were better. They would take the rest of the babies, and they would form a civilization out in the wild, okay? But the rest of the babies were not coming fast enough for his tastes. He pressed his head up against the nearest egg, then shook it: no signs of life in the big metallic egg. The blue then directed the black on where to go. He would head toward the back of the nest to investigate the white egg like a pile of coiled twine, then move on to the dark egg. The black would start with the brown one with tan stripes, then hit the other two. If there was any chance Yusk’s last egg was alive, they would speed over there and free its captive, and then all of them would make for the door. Kalesk couldn’t possibly stop that many whers. Agreed?
The green wavered as her brother went off to enact this plan. She didn’t like this at all, though her love for him was complete. She didn’t want any more babies to get hurt! She looked to the candidates, and then to the demon, and drew herself up. She might be a darling, but she was still a wher. Her territory encompassed everything she loved, and she loved everything. This black, she decided at long last, was an affront to society. Even if she went traipsing happily off into the wild with her brother, she didn’t want this guy coming with them. He was nothing but trouble.
She pounced, and caught his tail in her mouth. With that, the green dragged him over to the candidates. She wasn’t afraid of anything he might do to her in retaliation, and here at last a similarity to her sisters appeared: she wasn’t afraid of anything. She would protect what was hers. Sorry, brother, but this brat needed to bond, and she wasn’t letting go until he did.
Repeatedly, she marched back and forth in front of the group of candidates, dragging the black through the sand. Here they were! No, he was not allowed to go up there and pick one of the bystanders, ‘cause he needed somebody who was prepared to deal with him. As soon as he selected one of these fine folks and made amends, she would let go and his dignity could be restored. Until then, she was entirely immune to any attempts he made to get free.
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Post by tiger on Sept 8, 2012 4:31:55 GMT -5
tag ;; Devilish little black wher (OOC: I hope the actions in the end of this post are ok? If not, feel free to smack me and ignore what Pailu does!)
Pailu instantly felt bad. The black had been so small he'd managed to whisk through the others without her really seeing him. Well, he'd shown her properly, hadn't he? The cook hissed a gasp through her teeth as she felt the fabric of her legging shred, and then his sharp little claws bit past the fabric and into her leg. It was one thing to be nipped in a relatively more-meaty section. It was another beast entirely to feel sharp baby-claws rake against your shin bone! After all, the flesh wasn't terribly thick on a shin.
To her credit, Pailu did not cry out. A small hiss and that was it. The woman knelt down on her good leg and begain to criss-cross the shredded sides of her legging around her shin and calf. She'd make a bandage out of what she could. It'd be enough to keep any more sand out of the wound, at least until the hatching had concluded. While her hands worked to wind the fabric tightly over the gash, she let her eyes flip upward. No little two-toed rotter would surprise her again! At least she'd see the next one coming!
Jeebies gave a worried little squeak from behind a few spectators. The pink firelizard popped up on top of someone's head to coo worriedly after her pet.
The cook lifted her sights long enough to see the little Green practically parade her dark brother back and forth in front of the candidates. While she didn't exactly understand what the green was doing, the absolute protest of the black - who she'd seen only moments before get a thorough shaming from the much larger orange - was certainly not an admission of joy.
Pailu looked upward to the faces of the other candidates around her. Surely one of them would.. or maybe not. He was certainly going to be a handful, yes. A moment passed, and the woman drew in a breath, letting it out slowly. Her brow furrowed into a determined 'V' and she lunged forward at the right time and tried to pile her entire weight onto the little Hellion Black Wher. "Listen here, you little wherry turd!" She shouted down at the little creature. No doubt he'd be struggling like his life depended on it. The woman was betting a lot on her superior body mass and weight that it'd at least keep him pinned long enough. She curled her hand into a fist and shoved it into his mouth. Thankfully, given his small size, he'd not be able to move his jaw much around her entire fist, let alone get enough of a grip with his teeth to chew it off. "You're either going to simmer down and choose a lifemate or so help me I'll hurl you out o' this cavern like dirty bath water and you can fend for yourself in the wilderness! There's plenty out there bigger than you that'll make a fine snack out of your scrawny self! What's it going to be, bucko?"
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Kestrel
Wingrider
kestct[M:821]
Posts: 374
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Post by Kestrel on Sept 8, 2012 13:51:06 GMT -5
Vrell found that her eyes kept flicking back to the black responsible for the present stinging in her leg, though she wasn’t sure what she would do even if he did come back for another attack. He may not be very big, but he was certainly vicious enough, and she had proof enough that his claws were sharp. He could definitely do some damage if he wanted to—and from what she’d seen of the black, he did seem to want to. All the time. Little beast. She forced herself to look back at the eggs. If he did return and start slashing at her again, well…Vrell would just deal with that when it happened.
Unfortunately, there didn’t seem to be a whole lot of activity coming from the other eggs at the moment. Some were moving, but while Vrell continued to peer hopefully at them, nothing much happened. She frowned as she saw the little blue wheret go charging after the poor limping man—evidently to attack, not out of sudden inspiration for a handler. That was just mean. Why weren’t there more nice whers to help balance it out? Vrell cast another hopeful look at the eggs. Maybe they’d all hatch at once and be big, strong, nice whers who’d help put the rampaging little blue and black in their place.
It wasn’t likely, though. At least the patchy black, despite his previous association with the others, didn’t seem so bad. Vrell’s smile actually began to return as she looked down at him, getting a chance to see him better while he considered the other girl with the eyepatch. Vrell hoped maybe he’d pick her—she couldn’t help rooting for another girl with one eye. She missed the less spiky black’s bonding, busy as she was watching the patchy one, but it didn’t matter much—the oily black was probably the hardest for her to keep track of out of all of them, anyway, so even if she’d been trying she might not have noticed.
At last the black moved away, which was a bit disappointing. But it seemed, at least, that he knew what he wanted now, because he marched straight over to the blue’s latest victim, chased him off, and impressed. Well, that was a good result anyhow! Someone had to stand up to those two troublemakers. Things really did seem to be looking up, too, because the blue seemed to give up on his present pursuit of violence, and at nearly the same time, one of the other eggs finally hatched! Vrell looked eagerly at the wreckage and watched the green rolling around like a contented little feline, and that really did bring Vrell’s smile back in full force. She was so cute! She even seemed to be trying to take care of her brother, which was sweet even if Vrell didn’t have the highest opinion of the blue at the moment.
But it seemed that in this hatching, any tamer moments were fated to be short-lived. Only at the last moment did she notice the violent black streaking right toward her—or rather, as it turned out, toward the girl next to her. Vrell’s eyes widened as he went right for the other one-eyed girl’s toes, and it all happened so fast, and that was a lot of blood. Too much for just a normal bite or scratch. “Are you okay? Do you need the healer?” she asked anxiously, turning to glance out past the candidates, trying to make out where those healers even were, exactly. She knew there had to be at least one on hand, with a hatching like this. Vrell may have been unprepared for the level of carnage, but certainly the weyr must have had some idea.
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Gray
Wingrider
grayct[M:-350]
Posts: 870
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Post by Gray on Sept 8, 2012 14:10:17 GMT -5
With no knife offered, Bifrokolnir sighed a bit. Ok, he could do this. Bifrosk just had to bite him. Just a little bite, nothing too bad. “Ok Bifrosk, I need your help. We need to do a blood bond.” Blood? The wher perked up at this. He was still hungry. Bif nodded. “Yes, so we can make this bond complete.” That sounded find to Bifrosk. He wouldn't even have to bite. One long claw slashed across Bif's leg quickly and the boy bit his hand to stifle a whine of pain. Bifrosk took no time in lapping up the thin line of blood he caused. Bifrosk do ok? The brown paused, his eyes whirling as he looked up at his handler, his murky green tongue flicking out to lick blood from his small muzzle.
Sitting down on a bench, Bif nodded. “You did good. Now come on, let's eat.” Well, he wasn't going to eat. The idea of eating aw meat made his stomach turn, but he happily dug into a bucket and offered a chuck to Bifrosk. “Hey, there's a lot here. If anyone else wants some, come on and get it.” Surely the brown wouldn't down the whole bucket.
Taking his first chunk of meat, Bifrosk was about to gulp it down when he paused and looked to the sands. Bright orange. He plopped down and stared at his sister. Oh he had left her, he had been sure their Bronze brother would have stuck with her, but he had found his too. Bifrosk find his. Find one. Eat food. Bifrosk share. His thin tail waggled a bit as he reached for another chunk of meat. Yes. She could come too! She could share their food All of them could share their food. Except maybe the black and blue. Bifrosk did not like them much, they were too mean.
–
Wow. Dita was about 100% sure he wanted nothing to do with that black of Yusk's. In fact. He was especially sure when the little mongrel not only slapped him with it's tail, but it bit off a girl's toe. A toe! This was about as angry as Dita ever got. First it bit his sister, and now it actually took a toe. Frowning, he knew he couldn't do anything to the little thing, so he'd go help the girl instead. At least the green was keeping that blue in check. The blue seemed to make things worse.
Slipping from the line, Dita walked over to Oddiya. “ Hey, let me getta look at that foot. I'm no healer, but I'm sure I can do somethin' to help.” He frowned a bit. He could at least rip up some of his robe and do something to staunch the bloodflow. She wouldn't die from losing a toe, but she could possibly pass out. Dita didn't want to overstep his boundaries though, especially not with a girl who was hurt, bleeding, and possibly a mixture of panicky and raging mad. No. He knew girls, when mad there was nothing worse. A quick look was given to the sands and he spied the orange. Oh, a new color? Well fancy that. Kalesk had a new color in her clutch. What really caught him though, was that little green. She was practically dragging her brother along the line over and over. What, was she going to force him to impress? Despite the situation, Dita grinned. “Well look'a her. She's got spunk an' moxy enough for all'a them.”
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Ondine
Jr. Weyrleader
ondct[M:-155]
Posts: 436
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Post by Ondine on Sept 8, 2012 15:18:55 GMT -5
Ondine had been just off the sands the entire time. The apprentice healer had been on shift in the infirmary when the call went out, and she had volunteered to go and help at the Wher hatching. Whers could be notoriously bloody, especially since one needed blood to cement the bond in the first place. The hatching she got Dilath at had been incredibly bloody as well, given that a Red had hatched. And a few of the other dragons had been...vicious. Since she had that as background, she knew that it would be best to have more healers there.
Besides, she was curious, and wanted to see what would happen. It helped that she had seen Tesla go charging out of the infirmary in order to get to the hatching, and she wanted to see if the girl would impress. And now, she had. But not without getting injured herself. And now she was bleeding from the Black's attack, and she was pretty sure one of the other greens had bit her. Not Abrask, though. Speaking of the Green...and his new handler, she was fairly sure that this was one of the worst matches ever. A volatile, angry Wher who attacked everything paired up with a woman that, quite frankly, had made her skin crawl at times. Getting stuck in the infirmary with her a lot made Ondine dislike her on site. There was something about the eyes. They weren't kind eyes, and the woman's whole pose made her think of someone who was far too aloof for mere normal people to get close to. Which...
Well, Ondine liked most people. Not liking someone was actually kind of a new sensation, but she just couldn't find it in her to like Abranna. Which really didn't matter, now that Edison was on his way over with Tesla. She waved at him, in order to get his attention, and then pointed to a spot right in front of her, and all of the medical supplies she had. “Come on this way. I'll get her fixed up.” Once the girl got to her, she saw how much the black had ripped her up. Alright, as bad and about as good as she had hoped. Good deal. “Hey Tesla, who's this pretty little friend you found?” White's could be either male or female, and were incredibly rare. Maybe the new Wherling hadn't realized it, but she had just become quite special here at Dalibor.
While Telsa and Edison talked, she could be working. And respond all the same. In moments, she had a numbweed salve in her hand, and she intended to use it.
Shino didn't quite squeak when Damask's voice came into her head. It was a little terrifying, and a little wondrous. Now, freed to do so, she started to scratch at the Red's jaw, more happy to feel the skin of the Wher beneath her fingers. It was so cool! Such a great feeling under her fingers. She was so distracted at her task, and quite happy to do so, that she totally missed the black Wherlet that passed them up, guarded as they were by handler and Wher. But her presence to the handler somehow reminded Shino, as she scratched away, happily looking for anything that was itching by the Red's reactions, that she hadn't asked Damask yet what her hatching was like. Which she'd been doing to any Handler she could get her little hands on.
“Damali? What was your hatching like? I-I mean, the one where you Impressed Damask!” Not the one that Damali actually hatched at. Which prompted an weird image of Damali bursting out of a shell, and that was just strange. She focused on Damask, face burning slightly.
Abranna was more than happy to reassure Lonet that she could take care of Abrask. “It's just what I had in mind.” She wouldn't have wanted Lonet to do it anyways. This was her Wher. She would take care of Abrask. There was a not-so-soft growl of agreement about that. Dangerous world, this was. They'd have to stick together to survive, and that meant no 'others' treating her. And Abranna could treat herself. If Abrask's couldn't trust them, they wouldn't treat her. Unless her life depended on it. This was clearly the best course of action. As it was, she growled happily as the healer started to feed her, satisfying the hunger in her belly. After that was done, her wounds could be patched up, and everything would be good. For the moment.
It was, after all, a dangerous world out there. But with her beloved at her side, she'd make it. They'd both make it. And that was all that mattered. Not Oddinya losing a toe, certainly not Tesla getting mauled (the coward), and absolutely not any such things such as 'new colors' and mutations. Abrask loved her Wherling. That was all.
Ciali whooped unashamedly from the stands as Cilia impressed. To a Bronze, no less! Little wench, trying to outdo her sister. Well, she'd just have to double down on making sure that Cialisk stopped that cowardly streak of his. Get him a bit of spine and backbone. Although, from the looks of it, it seemed like that Bronze was just about as stubborn as the two humans were. She grinned. Guess her dear sister had bitten off a bit more than she could chew. But then, when had that stopped either of them? Plus, now she got to give her sister shit for having Impressed a King. Good times all around, really. Now if only that damn black would impress, and they could stop having candidates bleed out on the damn floor. Or lose their toe. Now, why wasn't Cilia giving him a fugging punch to the snout? It's what she would have done.
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Chek
Weyrlingmaster
chekct[M:-15]
I'm so magical I vomit rainbows
Posts: 1,091
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Post by Chek on Sept 8, 2012 16:44:18 GMT -5
Tius took a step away from the other man when he stiffened and denied the offered assistance – shaking his head, Tius watched as the horde of blue-lead whers harangued the man to his knees. But as requested, though words and body language, Tius did not interfere.
Oh, but pride was a messy business.
A bit away, Ein watched Edison bear Tesla and her white away – she was happy for the girl, but she'd completely failed to keep the little hellion black away from her. Despite knowing there was little she could do to stop a determined little projectile of biting and doom, she still felt guilty – she'd catch Tesla and apologize for the failure later.
Oddinya was distracted when the black came tearing up and latched into her left foot – she couldn't kick with her other leg, but she flailed the little thing around as best she could, scowling as he bit deeper into her sandal. At this rate, he was going to sever a toe! And in fact, a second later Odd realized that was exactly what he was aiming for.
“You little monster!” She leaned to whap him, but with a crunching twist, Odd felt a tearing sensation and he was pulling away, back across the sands with her second smallest toe hanging out of his mouth. “You! You little bastard! You will regret that.” She shouted after him, kneeling down to examine the damage.
It hurt a lot. Yep. And that was quite a bit of blood. She didn't notice Dita wandering over, or any of the questions of comments director her way – she was busy cutting off a chunk of her robe to bind her foot while spewing the most creative and colorful expletives that her anger and pain fueled mind could come up with.
On the stands, Damali was craning her head to watch the tiny cursing woman when Shino's question penetrated. Damask froze under Shino's talented fingers.
The redhead looked back at the two apprentices, and obviously fake smile on her face, “Well, a red hatched and killed...oh, a couple blues, my best friend and his newly Impressed green wher – and then she Impressed me. So really, this hatching isn't so bad, is it?”
Damask looked away, Like blue. Was monster. Regret.
Damali reached across and rubbed a hand over Damask's nose, “I know you do, lovely.” And then a flash of a brighter color on the sands caught her attention, “Oh now, orange? This could be interesting. My lovely, you aren't the only sub-Queen color any more.”
Took time show up, red prompt. Red still better.
Odd was finally pulled from her cursing fit when the little green dragged the hell-beast black by and the late girl jumped on them. “What are you doing, get off those whers. They can still bite your face off, girl.”
Not to mention the green hadn't done anything to deserve getting squished by a person.
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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 Sept 8, 2012 17:02:06 GMT -5
As the black wher retreated, Kisk relaxed and so did Kire but she had also noticed that the wheret had attacked Darryl. Kire was not generally an aggressive person and neither was Kisk but when something like this happened, it begged a different response. Kisk certainly was a rather peaceful and happy wher most of the time, trying to make friends with all of his kind but he also knew when she at least needed some protection. Apparently that had extended to include Darryl and Dask. Probably Kisk would always feel protective towards his sister but with some understanding he knew that Darryl was a friend and someone Kire cared about. Yes run black. Run far. FAST! No come back. No want. No be friends. You be hurt. NO LOVE! Kisk waggled his body when he realised the black was far away and then turned back to Darryl and Kire, padding his way over to join them.
“Thank you… I’m fine but it bit you! We should get some bandages from one of the healers!” Kire fretted worriedly, looking at the bite on Darryl’s leg. She had noticed that Darryl had pulled a knife out. Although she didn’t want any of the baby whers to get injured, she also didn’t want her own child to potentially be injured because of the actions of a few aggressive whers. What few motherly instincts Kire possessed had somewhat taken over and the young woman felt a strong desire to protect herself and their unborn child.
Tedaon nodded at the orders, not questioning them. They were both of the same training with Lonet perhaps having more due to her more intimate knowledge of whers. Tedaon had treated them in the past of course but Lonet would have a deeper understanding of how the whers functioned. She also had Losk, who could perhaps assist some of the new wherlings in keeping their newly bonded friends in line. This would not happen at a dragon hatching, Tedaon thought grimly.
With the order to assist the wherlings, he walked over with his healer’s bag and spoke first to the whers. “I am a healer, here to assist your human with her injuries.” Both whers were addressed and when assent was given, he started cleaning the wounds and bandaging them. He had asked permission of the whers first because he simply wasn’t particularly keen on losing his other hand. Should that happen he knew for a fact he wouldn’t be a healer any longer. Perhaps he could take up Harper drumming…
Naanell rolled her eyes at her brother but he was kind of right. It was an adventure. As long as they assumed that the injuries she had sustained were from a hostile creature and not these supposed protectors of Pern. Unaccustomed as she was to actual hatchings, she didn’t understand this whole process, this concept that the whers were allowed to run rampant in the Stands with no one stopping them. She had spotted a male somewhere pulling a knife out and thought she might very well do the same… If she actually had a knife to do so. Still if any of them came horribly close to her she would do what she could to keep her hands. One thing was for sure, Odowen would be of very little help.
“You seem to have become more insane than I remembered.” It was said with a grim smile only grim because of the pain she felt. It was subsiding some and he was right, they could see a healer later… However, she couldn’t help but think the healers were prioritising incorrectly. There were people in the Stands who had nothing to do with the happenings down below and yet they were looking at all the candidates. Selfish as it was, Naanell couldn’t help but think that there was no point. The candidates were just as likely to be bitten again. Might as well just wait.
Suffice to say, Naanell was not feeling herself. This was an entirely unfamiliar situation but at least if it got her noticed by some of the harpers… That was something. Already a number of refrains ran through her head. She could surely walk the tables with this composition… In a few turns. Already she had been training hard of course and would continue visiting the Hall with the information she had learned. [/blockquote]
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Kestrel
Wingrider
kestct[M:821]
Posts: 374
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Post by Kestrel on Sept 8, 2012 17:25:52 GMT -5
Vrell flashed the older boy a grateful smile as he came over to offer help, even though his was turned down just like her own had been. She couldn’t be too surprised that Oddinya had ignored them—she’d just lost a toe, for Faranth’s sake, and some people just preferred to nurse their wounds themselves. She did position herself more in front of the other candidate, though, to make sure no other little whers with bad attitudes came by for another strike while the girl tied up her foot. Vrell didn’t care if that meant she got injured instead—Oddinya had dealt with enough! All Vrell had so far was a scratch. She scrunched her eyebrows down as she fixed her eye in a glare, looking out at the sands as though just daring the whers to try anything. They’d never get through Vrell! Nevermind the fact that Vrell was barely taller than Odd, and that wasn’t saying a whole lot.
As she looked around, though, something new caught her eye—something big, and bright, and…orange? She rubbed at her eye, blinking a few times and squinting. No, no, she was sure it looked orange. Either it was a really off-color red, or…somehow orange wasn’t just restricted to dragons and firelizards anymore. Well, Vrell supposed it wasn’t all that weird. All mutations were new at some point, right? The initial surprise overwith, she tilted her head this way and that to get a better look at the latest wher to make her entrance, and she liked what she saw. A grin split her face as the orange swiftly pinned down the evil little black, snarling in his face and making it ever so clear that he wasn’t the only one who could dish out violence. There was justice in the air after all. Sweet justice.
Vrell’s belief that it must be an orange, and not an off-color red, was strengthened all the more as she continued to watch the wheret in her interactions with her bronze brother. She just seemed genuinely friendly, and not like someone with a bad attitude at all! She was pretty cool in Vrell’s book. The orange was just the sort of wher the hatching needed.
She and that green both, for that matter. Vrell almost laughed at the sight of the green dragging her brother by the tail, putting him in his place and hauling him off to the candidates. She was just keeping him there, like she was trying to force him to notice them. Maybe she was hoping he’d pick a handler? That was pretty smart. He needed someone to keep an eye on him and keep him from wrecking havoc. As she watched to see if he would actually get on with it and pick someone, though, something moved beside her and the next thing she knew the latecomer girl had…tackled the black and shoved her fist in his mouth? “Uh…” Vrell just goggled at them, entirely unsure what to do. Vrell might have had half a mind to do that herself if the black was presently attacking someone, or making another go for Oddinya—but he’d been more or less held in place by his sister. It had seemed pretty handled. “You know, I’m not sure he can pick out a handler when you’re kind of…squishing him. Probably.”
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Azhdarchid
Jr. Weyrwoman
azhct[M:-1490]
Totes.
Posts: 1,627
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Post by Azhdarchid on Sept 8, 2012 18:39:38 GMT -5
Tussbuul grinned as the newest and second-largest wheret took her bulk to test against the greenspawn. He imagined if he'd had siblings, the interaction would go something like this. Except instead of being the enforcer, or the troublemaker, he would be the one sitting off on the side, passively watching and thinking up various comments but never speaking them- oh. A little less enthused for his blank gazing, he redirected his attention to the scrapes on his legs. He ripped a patch of cloth from the side of his robe, or tried to, while glancing up more sporadically at the other hatchlings remaining on the field.
The green was actually tugging at her brother, and Tuss found himself pulled back into the autumnal drama of orange and black when the two of them shuffled over to weigh in. The blue might be more subtle than the black, but his troublesome powers of persuasion apparently could overwhelm any wher from Kalesk, whom Tuss expected just didn't care unless someone broke an artery. He smirked, one very small part of him entertaining the notion of tracking down his mother and asking her if her parental instinct was wherish in origin. But like most of his amusements at late, it left his lips wilting in the end.
Some happiness, though, could be pure. He smiled as the green was dropped on her back with an alien chirp. Looking over the hem of his robe, he found all his tugging had not torn even a fiber. His shoulders drooped, but he stood back up straight.
A minute later the green had taken over for the orange, who had apparently lost her first instinct for justice and had gone off to...well, flirt with the bronze. Tuss blinked as the fiend-wher was dragged unceremoniously by. The new warden and her charge only got as far as the start of the girls' group before another Candidate pounced on them both with all the audacity of, well, a watchwher. He rocked in place with some vicarious sense of danger, tilting his head back at Tius. "This is so exciting," he exclaimed, practically bursting with the opportunity to comment on the hatching to someone he had met only seconds earlier. The previous grumpy tinge had been lost.
As an afterthought, he dipped the toes of each sandal under the hot sand and wiggled his feet to bury them in a few inches.
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Gray
Wingrider
grayct[M:-350]
Posts: 870
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Post by Gray on Sept 8, 2012 18:58:24 GMT -5
When his offer os assistance was ignored, Dita just looked to Vrell, who's offer had also been brushed aside. He smiled at her and followed her gaze to the orange wheret. “Pretty isn't she?” He asked, grinning to himself. “She'll make make one good mum when she's older, I think.” Yea, if she impressed that is. Right now Dita was a bit nervous about the wherets on the sands. The green and orange seemed to have good heads on their shoulders.. or necks. How ever you'd phrase it for a wher. But that black and blue were causing enough trouble to wipe out their efforts for good.
Dita wrinkled his nose a bit when the other candidate tackled the black and green. Well. That wasn't good. Walking over, he reached down to grab the edge of Pailu's robes. “Now girl, I don't know what your doin', but the green's got thiss'n under her claw. Let her care for it. Don't you know you ain't supposed to mess with the wherets? One of their momma's will come on over and bite the nose off'a your face.” He shook his head, for her sake he hoped the black wasn't hurt. He didn't even want to think about what would happen if he was.
“Now, why don' you come over here an' come talk to us. We'll wait this thing out together an' then we'll all sit together at the feast.” If Pailu would let him, Dita'd would drag her over near Vrell and Oddinya, talking all the while. “Now my name's Dita, an' my sister Dota impressed that pretty dotted blue earlier. This here is... Um.. Well. Guess I don't know this pair. Introduce yourself an' maybe they'll do the same.” As a second thought, he looked over his shoulder to Oddinya. “An' if you need more to bind up your foot just say the world, I'll give ya my whole robe.”
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kireon
Candidatemaster
kirct[M:-191]
Posts: 739
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Post by kireon on Sept 9, 2012 2:31:45 GMT -5
Orange sister. Almost tell to take care of Cilia.[/i] Cilisk's voice, nonchalant and gravely as it was, broke her surprise when she realized the slender form broken out of the egg wasn't just a very orangey-red, err, red. An Orange, a second mutation in one clutch. Go Kalesk for introducing more variety, she knew there was a reason the gold wher was always so respected- and not just because of her size either. Wait a tick. What's that supposed to mean, eh? She demanded, looking away from the Orange to her own bronze's large eyes staring contentedly, if still smugly, at her face. Almost told who to take care of me? Her? It's the other way around, even for you, fathead. I take care of you.There was a sound suspiciously like a chortle, though more like two rocks scraping with a rasp against each other than anything she'd ever heard. Cilisk realize. Cilisk decide Cilia need care taking, not be care taker. Is why Cilisk choose Cilia. Cilisk do duty. Responsible Leader Cilisk.[/color] His attention was finally drawn away from Cilia at the sound of a squeal of rage and surprise coming from a certain little aggravated black wher. He dropped his head slowly, blinking several times to clear the fuzziness that came with looking upside down for so long. There was mild concern at first that she would kill the black, and thus would end up killed by the dam of the misbehaved little wretch. But this was his clutch-sib, and while she wasn't quite as magnificent as he was, she was important and still out-ranked that little squealer. Her discipline was very pleasing, no unneeded displays of violence or strength. He crooned a little in the orange's direction, sensing her distress and giving his approval of her treatment of the unruly fighter. Order must be established and kept, their blue brother wasn't quite the violent troublemaker that his... friend seemed to be, but he certainly had his own troublesome habits. The black was just a lackey, as far as Cilisk was concerned. He nuzzled her, thought it looked more like a full on head-to-neck rub from where Cilia was standing- with the big bronze lug still on her sharding feet. Her proposition was an interesting one, but he had an entirely different challenge he was still in the middle of. He was torn between the two; he wanted to please the orange, since she was a sensitive creature, and thus needed the praise and the constant reassurance and guidance. Much... like Cilia, actually. Though less on the reassurance and praise end, and much more on the guidance aspect of things. I heard that. Gray eyes glowered daggers in the back of Cilisk's head. Not small secret, am race with her. Cilisk come back to Cilia shortly.[/i] He nudged her hand, and nosed her sheathed knife expectantly. On second thought, he regarded the leather thoughtfully and established a bite on the hand he'd nudged. Hard enough to establish the blood bond, not hard enough to do any damage to the bones... except maybe bruise. He still wasn't quite certain of his own strength as of yet. Bluish tongue lapping gently at the wound as if it would heal, he nudged her side again and turned back to his orange sibling. Cilisk race you. First to bump Cilia win, if Cilisk win, go find your human. Be leader together maybe. Human need you, useless without wher guardian.[/i] Useless without- oh she was gonna knock him out once he got back. Something would dent that thick head and the multiple layers of fat in between his brain and his skull. If something didn't exist for that, she'd sharding well invent it. ** Wretched orange, what was she even doing there?! Ugh, he growled weakly in protest, still stubbornly refusing to relent, but relieved all the same as the blue's silver tongue worked its magic. Excellent. That one could do all the actual talking for him, he'd just tell him what he wanted done, he could relay the orders in a convincing manner, and he'd take care of actually doing the dirty work. Brown egg, tan stripes was smacked with his tail, he gave a bit of a rumbling bark at it. Get out of there, work to be done! He seemed to inform it, and repeated the same on the other two eggs... right before the green decided to ruin things forever. Greens. He hated greens forever, he swore that up and down. He would imprint that into his mind. Greens were bad. So was that White. He shrieked in outrage as he was dragged off, snarling and attempting to walk backwards, occasionally trying to bite or get at a part of her not-so-royal bossiness. He didn't need a sharding human! He really didn't- shadow? His eyes flashed in alarm as a human shaped shadow fell upon them, a gurgled yelp the only warning as she fell upon them both. FINALLY. But, the fist working its way into his mouth was pissing him off. And he responded accordingly with several muffled, strangled snarls, angling his teeth to gouge what he could- right in time for Yusk to be right beside Pailu. Yusk understood that her baby was being a bad egg, understood well. But humans could not attack, would drive wher to be wild and bad more. Violence against humans was a no-no, Yuri would be very sad. Frustrated but still protective of her offspring, Yusk leaned down and gave a warning nip to Pailu's ear, enough that it would bleed just a little, but would sting more than anything. She used her strength, what little she had, to nudge the arm off her child, grabbing him away from the pile to drop him, hold him down with a paw, and repeat the process with Kalesk's green. The green, however, she lowered gently, nudging with her snout in the direction of the candidates. Good egg go. Yusk tend.[/i] She told her fellow green, being a mother to all and loving all. Good egg, that green. As for that son of hers... the moment her paw lifted, he was out like a shot, heading into the candidates with another snap at Pailu's ankle on his way past. Stupid human! That blue would have to eat her himself, he didn't want anything to do with that two leg. He smacked snout first into someone's legs, snarling in frustration- why were there so damned many of them?!- the little black reacted the same way he had prior when faced with a frustrating situation. He bit. Blood filled his mouth... and something suddenly clicked, warped within his mind and froze him in the middle of a second chomp. Clarity reached his rage hazed brain and he realized he had a name. A name. And a two leg of his own. He growled up at her. He had a sore tail, sore mouth from that stupid one's fist, and was bruised all over because the others, minus the blue, kept getting in his way. He was rhe boss, she would take orders from him! If she did as he told her to, he'd make sure she wasn't bit or savaged by anyone else. He'd be the only one who could bite her. Burlesk was his name. Weird name. But it was his, and no one would ever take that, or her, away from him without his permission. Wher Name: Burlesk
Wher Personality: Burlesk is trouble in every sense of the word. He has issues with authority figures, mocks them when he thinks he can get away with it- and even when he doesn't. Most of this is done passive-aggressively, nonverbally, of course. But on occasion, he'll speak up and , whatever he has to say, will usually be snarky and sarcastic. For his color, he's almost ridiculously aggressive, often attacking with a bite or a claw as a 'greeting' instead of doing things the proper, polite way. In short, Burlesk is a brute and a bully, and he's okay with that. Remarkably intelligent as well, he's entirely too unmotivated by most things to actually apply himself unless it involves violence. Burlesk will always enjoy himself in a fight or anything remotely related to one. Despite his destructive, brutish tendencies, Burlesk does have a sense of honor, deep down, and will adhere to whatever bargins he's made with someone. While, in the end, he is out entirely for himself and does whatever he wants to do unless reined in by a firm hand, he is loyal and will defend his handler to the very end... even if she is the biggest obstacle in his way most of the time.
Wher Appearance: Lean but muscular, Burlesk will only grow into his stocky, powerful build as long as he's not allowed to overeat and gets plenty of exercise. Built like a pint sized Iron, what he lacks in size, and isn't the fastest wher ever, Burlesk more than makes up for in brute strength and stamina. The speedy ones get tired quicker, he's smart enough to realize this and is relentless when, and if, he chooses to pursue a target. His voice, when he chooses to use it, is loud and deep, his lungs capable of sustaining a roar, snarl, or growl much longer than one of his color usually is capable of- sounding more, again, like a young Iron rather than a Black. Big for his color, he's perfect for guard duty and is a handy, vicious asset in a fight... it's just convincing him it's worth his time that's the problem. Yusk, surprised as she was that her bad egg-child had Impressed rather than run free, was relieved. Now she wouldn't have to worry anymore about him savaging other candidates on his own. It was up to Ein to do it now. She would have to teach the bad wheret to be a good one. She gurgled a little in the woman's direction, tilting her head at her for a moment before giving a nod that was entirely too knowing, one motherly type to another potential one as well. Satisfied she turned and trotted back to Yuri, standing properly, if wearily, at his side without so much as a glance towards the last egg on her side of the sands.
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Post by tiger on Sept 9, 2012 2:52:47 GMT -5
In truth, she hated doing what she was doing. She knew she'd probably get mauled or worse, but the little black had bloodied more than his fair share of candidates, and Pailu had had more than enough of his rage. As he bit and snarled and gashed, she remained vigilent. As Yusk appeared beside her, she actually relaxed.
Poor Dita's efforts were mostly in vain. After the bite from Yusk, she uttered a soft apology to the Green and shrunk back into the candidates, a hand lifted to try and stop the bleeding. It wasn't a deep bite, but with so many nerves and veins that close to the skin, it'd bleed for a while. Before Yusk got out of range, Pailu spoke quickly to her. "I'm sorry, clutchmother. I didn't want him to hurt anyone else, or the other green wherlet. I meant no offense, I promise you."
The cook gave her a weak smile before she worked to stand again. This time, her apology was for Dita. She moved to stand with him and she smiled, somewhat tiredly. "I know, I know. I'm crazy, right? Sorry 'bout shaking you off, I wasn't trying to be rude. Dita, you said? Pailu. I'm a cook. In the kitchens." Really, Pai? Where else would you cook, the healer hall? Perhaps the blood loss was beginning to have an effect..
In fact, Pailu sat down on the sands again, adjusting the makeshift bandages on her leg. She grumbled, spotting sand in the wound. Well, that'd be a pain later.
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