A Taste of Blood [Open]

[xena2009]

Siraune glared at the sharding needle and thread. She was mending a pair of torn trousers that Siraunesk had torn when they had decided to have a little fun the other day and wrestled a bit. And as usual, Siraunesk had won. Siraune had put up a good schuffle with her red wher, but she always let her wher win.

"Sharding needle!" The Red Wherhandler exclaimed suddenly, the needle pricking her right fore finger. Red blood oozed out of the pinprick. The Handler growled in her throat, she hated doing her own mending for this specific reason.

Siraunesk looked up from her comfortable stone couch. Siraunesk's hurt.

It's ok, love. It's only a pinprick. Siraune told her wher. She put her finger in her mouth and sucked on her finger. Her nose scrunched up. She hated the metal tang taste of human blood. She could only imagine what a Dragon, or Wher, blood would taste like. Oh eww.. Disgusting! She took her finger from her mouth and shook her head to clear that train of thought from her mind.

[4horseshowgirl4]

Whinae shuffled back towards the wherhandler's quarters, stifling a yawn. Whisk slouched along next to her, imitating Hers movement, revealing her pointed teeth. The Green pushed her shoulder against Whinae's hip, her head curling along Whinae's stomach. The human of the pair stumbled as Whisk inhibited her walking abiity, but she didn't ask the wher to move. They were both colder than they wanted to be after another night patrol, and each took comfort in the warmth of the other's body. Whinae's ears felt as if they would break off if someone tapped them with an ice pick. Whisk startled at this rather horrible image flashed through Whinae's mind, and she instantly sprang into action, head low and searching for this ice pick.

"It's okay, Whisk!" Whinae said wearily, touching a hand to the wher's tensed back muscles. "It was just my imagination, no one's actually going to attack me with an ice pick." The Green relaxed, understanding Whinae's assuring tone more than she did her words. English was not her strong suit, but, like most Greens, emotions were something she easily understood. Whinae felt a warmth blossom in her bosom that had nothing to do with the air temperature. It was a wonderful thought that she had Whisk, always loving her enough to protect her from even imaginary threats. In a time when rumors about Thread's return and faint whispers of rogue dragons were enough to worry the Weyr, it was the best assurance to have the wher at her side. Whisk's beautiful, muscled and athletic body, coupled with her sharp teeth and dangerous talons, meant that she was built for attacking, for defending Hers and their home.

But, suddenly, the wher that was so closely linked to Whinae had dashed off. {What is it now, Whisk?} Whinae called mentally to Whisk, chasing after her, though the wher was already out of earshot. Hurt! Whisk replied frantically, deigning to send Whinae a flash of her location so that Hers could follow her. {You're hurt?!} Whinae exclaimed, pushing herself to a faster pace to reach the place she knew as the lower caverns. No! Other hurt! Whisk scolded. Whisk no run fast if Whisk hurt!

[/color]

Whinae heard the telltale sound of Whisk's talons clicking quietly on the stone floor near the Wherhandler caverns. She would need to trim them soon-- a wher that could be heard approaching was one that had lost the benefit of surprise. She arrived in the doorway of Siraune's lodging just a few moments after Whisk, who was already bristling and baring her fangs at the much larger Red wher as if she had been the one to hurt the other woman (despite the fact that it was Siraunesk's voice that had alerted Whisk to the problem).

"Whisk. The other is a friend. Be kind." Whinae said gently. Whisk heeded her words only to the extent that she didn't immediately jump on the Red. Whinae was about to add that Whisk would be torn to shreds by the Sub-Queen, anyway, but she knew that that would just prompt Whisk to attack anyway to prove her superiority over the other female. She was prettier and better than any old Red! No hurt?[/color] Whisk said quickly and quietly to Whinae, her words not betrayed by her stance, which was as aggressive and poised to leap on the next thing that moved to endanger anyone in the room. {No, Whisk, she's fine.}

"I'm so sorry to intrude like this," Whinae said apologetically to Siraune. "I don't think we've met yet. I'm Whinae, and Mine is Whisk. Siraune, right?" she said, pronouncing it Sigh-rune-eh. [/right][/font]

[xena2009]

OOC- Siraune's name is pronounced: Sea-raw-nie, and the wher's name is pronounced: Sea-raw-neh-sk. Just an FYI.


Siraune had been about to throw the sharding pants, along with needle and thread, onto her cot and forget about it until later. She didn't need them until her next shift, and that was later on in the day. She jumped at least two inches off the ground at the sound of Winae's voice suddenly at her door. Siraunesk jumped up and immediately went into an attack stance. Her muscles bunched, corded and ready to release her into motion to attack anyone that dared to make a move.

"Siraunesk, relax," Siraune commanded the red wher. She felt her bonded relax, though only slightly and was alert. "Yes, I'm Siraune. We've been here for only a short while. Green Wher? You must be Whinae? I was told there would be a green handler here, and there was only a mention of your name." And then she realized something. "Siraunesk, go lay down. I'm sorry about my manners. Please come in and have a seat."

Siraunesk snorted before turning back to her stone couch. Welcome, green Whisk.

[4horseshowgirl4]

Ooc: I know. It was just a talking point-- Siraune could have corrected her. But, no matter.

While Whisk still eyed Siraunesk warily, she, too relaxed her tensed muscles. She straightened her legs, coming to her full height, stretching impressively (though the fact that she was less than three feet tall rather ruined the effect). She rolled her talons against the stone floor, creating a soft clicking that she did not want to go unnoticed by the other, before finally curling into a ball at Whinae's feet. She lay there rather like a feline, with her tail looped over her nose, her suspicious eyes never leaving the Redpair. She looked small and harmless at a casual glance, but there was no denying the strength that rippled through her muscled body. Even though she was rather slim for a wher, it was undeniable that she looked like one, as stocky and well-built as she was.

Still, Whisk didn't reply to Siraunesk's polite greeting. {Whisk...!} Whinae said warningly, glaring at the ball of wher at her feet. Whisk exhaled forcefully, as if she was considering growling at Hers. Thankfully, she didn't. Thank you, Red Siraunesk,

[/color] she reluctantly replied to the Red wher, unwillingness evident in every syllable. Whinae grimaced for a moment. Whisk was such a Green sometimes, with her flirtiness and possessiveness of the males she considered 'hers.' With only one male wher at Dalibor, Iron Husk, Whisk couldn't help but see the Sub-Queen as competition for her Husk. The fact that Kings such as Husk usually preferred the larger females over the simple Greens didn't help matters.

"Oh, thank you," Whinae said with far better manners than the wher at her feet. She smiled warmly at Siraune, taking the proffered seat. Whisk glared at Whinae with annoyance. She gracefully rose to her feet and strode toward Hers, quite aware of the fact that she was also getting close to Siraunesk's and pretending to ignore that face. Whisk took her new position, lying her head protectively over Whinae's feet. She turned her malevolent stare to Siraune, as if the Redhandler was going to steal Hers from her.

"I'm sorry about Whisk," Whinae said. "She's been funny lately. It's been a while since we've been around so many other people and whers. We've been here for a bit, but we've spent most of our time awake patrolling the outside of the Weyr. Actually, I'm quite surprised that we haven't run into each other yet." She began to absently rub Whisk's head with her thin leather boot, soothing the agitated Green, encouraging her to doze off. Of course, Whisk would do no such thing, but she contented herself to watch the doorway instead of Siraune or the Red, allowing it to fade in and out of focus. [/right][/font]

[xena2009]

Siraunesk was already curled up and fast asleep. Rumbling low in her throat, like the low purring of a feline.

"Your welcome. Same here with Siraunesk. She and I usually keep to ourselves unless otherwise necessary. Runs, clutchings, and hatchings, those sorts of things. Yes, I would have imagined we would have run into each other before now." Siraune grinned widely. At least she could speak openly to Whinae if she needed help with something. "How long have you and Whisk been bonded?"