The Trick [OTA - Esp. wherbeebs!]

[Azhdarchid]

[ OOC: This is a thread for Tuss and Tusk to adore wherbeebs before they leave on their arduous MISSION. For reference, Tuss will not yet have selected the mission party at the time of this post. Please post wherbeebs, with or without their persons. As you will see, Tuss and Tusk have set some bait for them. Other whers can come too np.

The task for the beebs appears to be simple: get a tasty snack. ]

Tusk had not come up with the scheme, but she served as its inspiration and keystone. Her major contributing idea had been:

Wher like meat.

And now in a corner just aside the corridor to the wherlings' barrack, the green wher presided over a fair mountain of meat. Deboned wherry thighs and wings interlocked atop a stretch of canvas, their sluggish, whiny green juices contained by the foresight. But the smell ran thick down the hall. The wind bowed in the wide mouth of the quarters and blew across the pile, splashing an olfactory tsunami into the wherlings' den.

It was Rest Day for the hatchlings. For Tusk it was just another night. And tonight she had been put in charge of a plot of meat. It was her meat. She remained bigger than the entire lot of wherlets, which meant she was in charge. Her huge, yellow eyes stared through darkness and intent. Right now she stared at Tussbuul, who had sat down on a chair he'd dragged out to play sentry opposite her. On Tusk's bumpy shoulder, a white firelizard squatted and ogled the meat, rubbing his tiny paws together. Tusk blinked. Her head dipped, jaws nipped, and she peeled off a shred of thigh, offering it to the flit. He took it from the side of her mouth with his tiny triads of claws, and she released her grip. The firelizard immediately fell with the wait, splashing into a clot of ichor at the top of the pile.

Tusk glanced down at his wriggling backside, then resumed her watch over the area. The long curtain of her neck bobbed as a pitter of feet reached her pinhole ears. She put two of her talons over the pile. She had her wings out at her sides, giant flags of snow that through the power of misdirection obscured the old man watching from the other wall better than most cloaks and daggers. The green wher glittered in the dark.

[Chimera]

((OOC: KIND OF WARNING FOR GROSS WHER EATING HABITS))

It was a nice, quiet Rest Day. The name extended to what followed after - wherhandlers weren't excluded from the fun that was stepping outside and not being eaten alive by vicious alien rain. Green Lisk licked her lips from where she sat quietly in the corner, drinking in the gamy, intense, and delicious scent of meat.

MEAT. The young wher, who wasn't quite a hatchling anymore, alerted her wherling of this fact rather enthusiastically - and loudly. It, coupled with the olfactory apocalypse streaming down the hall, made Lirmox rather frazzled.

"Okaay. I know. We're going." The unamused boy ran after his excited green, the latter skidding to a halt right in front of Mouse.

YOU WHER. Need eat WHER food. Follow.

"Hey, Mouse. There's a huge pile of - meat. Good for whers, of course." Lirmox didn't want to tell Mouse eating the raw meat wasn't something for her...he'd come up with something when they got there. "Stick close to us - lots of scary whers here." His glance turned to Dardrask for a moment.

TUSK. Good. FOOD. It was the closest thing the green could give to a thank-you as she arrived. Lisk looked at the wings, then to the thighs, and back again, deep in thought at which to take. Eventually, she stuck her blunt muzzle into the pile of meat, retrieving a couple thighs and one wing. She left a slimy, green, metallic-smelling trail of ichor behind her - thankfully from her food - as she trotted over to a shadowy corner. There she sat and messily chomped and tore at her meal, drooling all the while - frequently looking up to check on Mouse and Lirmox. Until she spotted him. Lisk let the half-chewed meat fall out of her jaws, and lunged forward, galloping to her too-perfect brown brother – if Saosk was close enough to be seen by his fellow Mouse-guard, she'd throw a casual snort his way.

MENGSK. Meat GOOD, ALL IS ARE FOR LISK. FINE. NOT ALL BUT MANY ALL LISK-MINE. LISK GET ALL OF FOR-LISK. All NO Lisk-all for other. Other mean TinyMousk food. Other wher. TinyMousk best other wher. Lisk's. The green grumbled at Mengsk, licking some wherry ichor off of her lips. Well...fine. He was neutral in Lisk's book. She didn't really know what to think, or how to behave around him...so she just acted her usual way, trying to impress the smarter, primal instinct-lacking wher with her "smart words."

***
Dardrask was a wherlet who understood "smart words" better. Perhaps it would've been better if he'd use them for purposes other than scaring people, or as Dardranel called it, "being a jerk." But he wasn't about to change his very personality. Honestly.

What he was about to change, on the other hand, was his hunger. He sniffed the lovely smell of meat as it drifted through the hall – this was to be savored carefully. His mindmate clamped two fingers on her button of a nose, drawing out a dramatic (and nasal, as a result) sound.

"Eeurgh. Whers are gross."

Humans worse.

"You make a good point about some of them." Dardranel flopped onto her cot, blankly staring at the ceiling. "I should probably keep you out of trouble when you go eat that stinky meat. Bluh."

The black hatchling hissed, amused. What trouble could he possibly cause? Dardranel was a fascinating, even wonderful, person – he'd chosen her for the fire and spark in her mind. But Dardrask still liked messing with her – and tricking her into letting him do bad, but "fun" things. He hated the word "fun", though its meaning, in some other form, was acceptable.

He noiselessly slunk up to the meat pile, his black serpentine body moving in sideways waves as he did so. A curt nod of his head at Tusk, and the black was hauling some meat to a spot where he could sit down and enjoy it. Dardranel did not come with him, but to Dardrask's partial chagrin and partial amusement the girl would practice seeing through her wher's eyes to prevent anything bad from happening. His eyes. A violation of privacy.

Dardrask would allow it, but grudgingly.

[Azhdarchid]

Tusk tipped the wedge of her head down till her snout kissed the top of the meat pile, flicking the residue off the tip with her tongue as she straightened. She watched Lisk puzzle over the smorgasbord, grunting when the other green dragged away her chosen pieces. The presiding watchwher's yellowy tongue flashed in Lisk's direction as she tore into the offering, inhaling bits and pieces of the bloody scent. She bobbed her head at her handler, who was still quiet in his observation.

Is that so?

A quivering shadow slipped out from its fellows at the corner of Tusk's wide, lamp-like eye. At first she did not quite notice, but then she looked out at the shimmying figure, nostrils puffing curiously. Her head weaved side-to-side, following the patterns the black wheret wrote across the stone. But as he neared, her facets began to boil out their aquamarine tint for something more fiery, and she responded with a crimson flash when Dardrask spent the barest moment acknowledging her with a nod. Just as soon as he seized his tidbit, she was leaping over the pile after him, albeit almost noiseless herself.

She hunted after the wheret in a lope, then dropped her jaws at the back of his neck. If successful, the green could haul him off his feet handily and shake the stolen meat free, at which point she could return it to her horde. Or, more likely, she would drag Dardrask back and hold him up as an example to the other squirmier, rude hatchlings.

Impolite to not speak, she informed him with a hiss. It would be a lie to say a wher was not angry (all the time), but she knew he was a baby. In that moment, she comprehended the meaning of "baby."

He had to learn.

[Chimera]

Though Lisk had gotten away scot-free with her surprising wher-politeness, Dardrask had not. He sauntered over to the meat pile. He loved sneaking around and staying in the shadows, but come on. Sneaking around to get some food clearly set out for him and his fellow wherets was for chumps. He brazenly trotted off, dragging the meat with his strong mouth, not paying enough attention to Tusk behind him until it was too late.

Tusk had succeeded. Dardrask squeaked as she picked him up by the nape of his neck as if she was his mother, the raw meat in his mouth plopping to the floor. He wriggled, just like he had when he'd been captured by a similar annoying wher at his hatching, and tried to whirl around and nip Tusk's face. But his eyes showed a scared yellow, not its usual dark red.

Put down. Dardrask black. Black wher no speak many. "Impolite" subject-eeve! The wheret whined.

"Oh, fardling - I knew this was a bad idea!" Dardranel dashed down the hallway, scrapping her original plan to monitor Dardrask through the blurry version of his sight she could get through their bond.

And stopped next to Tusk and her own squirming wher.

You know what? I'm not saving you. Go be a bad example. Let the grown-up watchwher teach you. The wherling scolded him. Dardrask growled in response.

Dardranel stared awkwardly at Tusk, around the room, and back again.

"Hello, may I ask where your handler is, miss green?" She closed her eyes and exhaled as Dardrask let out another unholy, ear-grating screech. "I believe this wheret needs to be taught a lesson by his own species, as you are doing at the moment."

Say thank you next time, you sharding tunnelsnake.

Dardrask went rigid and stock-still - and then relaxed totally in the grasp of Tusk's serpentine jaws, letting out a fake hacking cough of death.

Oh, stop playing dead, will you, Dardrask? I swear, the one time I don't get in trouble and then you do.

[Kiran]

Jafask had smelled the meat before Jafari did. Not that it was particularly difficult to do so. He took a playful snip at Captain, startling the brown flit and sending him into conniptions that woke his Handler from his light nap. Jafari groaned but the iron simply gave him a grin. Jafari was never sure how to interpret them. They looked goofy, they looked almost drooly, but there was always a risk of pure maliciousness behind them. He scratched Captain to try and calm the flit down. "So what's got your hide in a bunch?"

Meat. The answer was simple. Too simple for Jafari.

"Okay. So let's go get something to eat. I'm sure that they have something in the kitchens that I could-"

Meat is outside. Not in kitchens. Other wherlets have gone to get. Wish for mine. Jafask clarified. The words made Jafari hesitate. Other wherlings and wherlets. Outside of class. Was that a smart idea? In his hesitation, Jafask decided to take things into his own claws, opening the door himself and sending Jafari to his feet and skittering after him. Captain followed, scolding them both. It had no effect on the iron, though. He actually rather enjoyed irritating the little flit. If Captain wasn't so special to his Bonded, the iron would have done worse.

As it was his attention was taken up by the little drama going on in front of him. Lisk, Tusk, and Dardrask were all arguing and debating and lording over the pile of meat in the middle. He decided to step in at that point. Moving sinuously to sit in front of Tusk and cocking his head, the iron addressed the green and ignore the two wherlets that were there. Should show self if Tusk desires us speak with. Stay silent, be ignored. Tusk silent, so was ignored.

Jafari couldn't help but pale a bit at his Wher's audacity. Iron or not that wasn't acceptable! He glanced around at the others there, then focused on Jafask. "Apologize! She's an adult, a grown wher, and you aren't!" Jafask ignored him. They would have to work on that, for sure...

[Azhdarchid]

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Dragonwher]

Randiel hadn't been out of his room much aside from lessons. Mostly because he was working on his downtime to keep Rask from hurting anyone. Which was only made more difficult than it might have been if he'd had the bond of a more even tempered Wheret. Like Harrisk; though no sooner had that thought crossed his mind than the low growl of annoyance from Rask made him look toward the brown wher. The distinct look of irritation was answered in kind by Randi as the male spoke "well if you were more like yer brother we wouldn't have half as many moments where you make me want to thump you".

If Randi wasn't try be so 'nice' all time maybe Rask listen more. That wasn't true and even Randi could feel the lie, but all Rask got was a sour glare as Randiel went back to his newest project. A sort of muzzle that would only fit till Rask was older and conceivably not about to rip anyone up. Though he was interrupted by Rask walking to the door and butting it with his nose at the same time that Dardrask had screeled from being captured. That had made him drop his project to the cot and spin to snarl at Rask to leave his flits be; but Aela and Farkas both sent thoughts images from their location on the 'safe shelf'. The fact he'd thought Rask hurting his flits was what made that noise made the Wher laugh in his head though Ahr ahr ahr.

Then, instead of commenting on Rask laughing at him; Randi stood up and moved between Rask and the door to open it slightly and look out. Though what little he could see made him quirk one brow curiously. Before the smell of blood made him gag slightly and Rask actually sneak out the door before he could stop him. So Rask would get to the 'festivities' before Randiel by about four steps; mostly due to his small loping over Randi's stumbling jog. Though he did mentally yell to his wher as he spotted Tusk dealing with Dardrask Don't you DARE irritate Tusk worse Rask!. Which caused Rask to look back at the boy before swinging his head back around and trodding up to the pile of meat. Then proceed to try and grab food as well; Randi would have told him to introduce himself but he didn't know that silence had upset Tusk.

As he slowed to a stop he did look around for Tussbuul however; as his flitpair winged up and perched on his shoulders, sending images of Majere opting to stay in the room. Though he didn't see Tussbuul just as Dardranel hadn't; instead looking to the girl "hullo Dardranel, why's Tusk hanging onto Dardrask?". Then he looked at Jafari as he hollered at his own wheret "is he just as irritating when yer alone too; if that yell was any indication?".

As soon as Tussbuul spoke however Randiel jolted then looked in his direction. Before following the whole thing Tusk put Dardrask through. With a slight swallow Randi coughed to his wher "Rask...get your face out of the meat; I don't think you were supposed to take any right yet...". Which Rask happily ignored...probably to his "peril" insofar as ending up under the meat or something similar.

[Chimera]

Dardranel was quite glad Tusk did not react violently to her. Speaking to a wher maybe hadn't been the safest idea. Then again, the wherling did not put much interest in safe ideas.

She jumped a little when Tussbuul appeared from the shadows and spoke calmly.

"Hello." Upon seeing the wherhandler's smile, she grinned back. Even if Dardrask had misbehaved, she was a bit smug upon Tuss praising his idea. It didn't change that she was annoyed about it. The girl continued watching, seeing what her black would do next. His eyelids hid flustered orange eyes, less useful than his other keen senses at the moment. He was patient and unmoving, thinking and waiting. Even when his green persecutor dropped him face-first in the pile of wher edibles. Dardranel frowned. Could he even breathe inside?

The black could, if barely. Now, it was time for action. And food. Tusk had unwittingly brought him right to his destination, and he moved his little head just enough to reach the closest piece of meat. Methodically, he sucked out some blood from it, before quietly nibbling. And chomping. The wings hiding Dardrask did not drop significantly as he burrowed a bit away, making sure to cover himself in as much blood as possible.

Now, he waited, as Jafask and Rask had already seen the events leading up to his "death".

Now he waited, waited for the first victim.

"Oh. Hey there, Randiel and Jafari." Dardranel sighed, leaving her wheret alone for the moment. "Having trouble with your whers too, huh?"

***
Lisk blinked. Well, that was that. Dardrask's plight was rather amusing, but frankly she did not care about yet another "evilstupid" black wher. Saosk was quite enough. Lirmox slunk a few steps away when Jafari arrived. Lisk did the opposite, craning her neck out to be closer to Jafask.

YOU. Say thank Tusk. She grunted at the iron.

[Kiran]

Jafari was caught by the question from the handler of the green that had made herself Lady of the Meatpile. "Always. You didn't see the Hatching?" Honestly, he would have been shocked if the man hadn't. A double hatching was rare enough, it seemed that the entire weyr had seen his monster of a wher torture the candidates on the Sands before Impressing. Perhaps the only one as terrible as his was Rask, and Randiel was there with him. Jafari glanced over at him at his question. "Well.... No.... He isn't. I think I'd have broken if he played me like he did the others at the Hatching. But when he gets out.... I'm just terrified he'll do it again. He wants to do it all again. I can feel it."

The thought made the wherling shudder. He didn't like the meanness, the cruelty. And Jafask was slippery - sometimes he could feel the brat hiding in the back of his mind, just waiting for an opportunity to slip a cruel thought or action there, something to cause chaos. The stuff the iron thrived on. Jafari was drawn from those dark thoughts for a moment when the black wherling spoke up. He managed a small smile. "Hey Dardranel." He shifted slightly, thinking to say something except he was drawn back to what his iron was doing. A frown crossed his lips as Lisk approached Jafask. Was the green stupid?

Jafask had tolerated Tusk's paw on his head for merely a moment. He was preparing to snap at her belly, to frighten her and get some meat for himself and to startle Dardranask - the wherling having hidden himself in the meat, waiting, Jafask had seen it and wasn't stupid - when Lisk came up. He attention turned towards the second green for just a moment. No. And then he proceeded with his original plan. Jafask bared his teeth and went for the meat that was at the barest edge of Tusk's chest and belly, looking to see how the older green would take it. Seeing how Dardranel would react to the attack. Probably not well, but that was the point, right? And it would drive Lisk up a wall to boot.

Jafari went absolutely pale, waiting for chaos to errupt. This wasn't the psychological torture that the wher preferred, but he was feeling his victims out. Seeing what affected them. Planning for a later, stronger attack. It was never a good sign when Jafask decided to be contrary or difficult.

[Azhdarchid]

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

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

Too many babies, she huffed at her Handler.

Oh? Too many for you?

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Maggie]

TAMARISK IS SMELL FOOD! TAMARISK EAT FOOD! Tamarine cursed as her monstrous cyan took off in the direction that she had determined the food was in. The wherlet was faster than her, already, and qould very quickly be stronger than her. She had found, however, that Tamarisk had a surprisingly good grasp of the notion of hierarchy and that Tamarine ranked higher than her. This had been reinforced by Gennesk who was now wherlingmaster for the orange class who had not appreciated Tamarisk trying to sneak past him to go bully his charges. She would be bigger than him one day, probably, but Gennesk still was much bigger than her and he still outranked her. She had been taught quite forcefully what that meant.

That was what made her stop as she saw Tusk. She was not at all concerned by her siblings, but Tusk... Tusk was big. And outranked her. But she had the meat. TAMARISK IS WANT MEAT. TUSK GIVE TAMARISK MEAT she ordered, although she didn't try to get it without permission.

Tamarine slowed, then walked over to her wher, leaning down to touch Tamarisk's shoulder. It wasn't that far a lean down anymore, she realised with a pang of regret. "Rissy, be polite."

TAMRIMINE NOT USE STUPID RISSY-NAME! Tamarisk protested. She was starting to realise that the protest was futile, but she always objected anyway on principle.

Tamarine grinned at her classmates and Lirmox. She recognised Lirmox as the wherlet that her aunt's Task didn't dislike. "Hi." Her eyes went a little wider when she recognised Tusk and Tussbull. Tussbull was a minor hero of hers, since he was a master in the craft she had been born to and a greenhandler. It was silly, but every time she saw a green wher she couldn't help thinking of that day she had seen the big green paw punch through the dirt and the ugly green snout push through the hole to find her. She touched her gimpy leg superstitiously. "Um, hello greenhandler. I'm sorry if Tamarisk is bothering Tusk, she's just a little... loud sometimes, she doesn't really mean it."

[RavenSong]

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

[Chimera]

((Aaa I'm sorry this is so late ;;))

Oh.

It was all the wheret had to offer to her brother as far as a direct response to his response. Lisk didn't know Mengsk found her long-winded, oft nonsensical chatterings funny. If she did, it wouldn't be a pleasant scene - until she forgot, within a few sevendays. Still, Mengsk had no open emotion to fuel her volatility.

She huffed in a bit of surprise when he nuzzled her, but offered one of her own spindly little wings and extended it around the brown as much as she could in a little hug.

Once Lisk had gone back to her corner, she had remained near Mengsk, watching her brother smugly as he politely went up to Tusk. Let those other fools learn how it was done. Her good mood seemed to be lasting...

...Until Jafask said 'no' to her when she'd charged up to him.

WHAT you say, useless, hated, evilst -

She threw her small, muscular body back to safety as the skinny jade missile that was Tusk impacted. Then, forward once more. Lisk placed her right paw on a part of the metallic offender for good measure.

Bad.

Before she could go further, Lirmox took control of her and drew her back to himself.

Don't do too much to him, now.

"Oh. Hi. Tamarine. Nice to see you!" The wherling friendlily asked of the acquaintance. That was her name, he believed - through way of Mouse's and therefore his adopted family, she had been mentioned somewhere. "I do believe my wher has taken a shining to yours." he mentioned, as the restless green trundled over to Tamarisk.

You good or evilstupid?

***
He sensed approachers.

He acted upon it.

Squirming his way to open air, Dardrask surveyed the area for just a moment, and then made his move.

At this point he looked more a tiny cyan, or green rather, painted in drying ichor. The wheret made a scene of slobbering over every remaining piece of food he could, and then proceeded to attempt to climb on Tusk while she was occupied.

No thank-you for annoying wher. he stated if he'd succeeded, taking another moment to ogle a weakened Jafask and a weakened Rask.

If Dardrask's plan had gone well, he'd mark his departure with a hideous scream, envelope himself with his large, red-tinted wings, and disappear into the night - or, literally, run away using his exceptional agility and speed.

If not...

...He'd try. Just like he did earlier.

Dardranel was not amused, regardless of the situation.

I am going to punch you in your snout if you don't stop.

Meanie.

"Good luck to you, Jafari and Randiel. And now, sir, I would like to ask you a question of utmost importance. What should I even do with him? I think he is not an easy case." she asked of Tussbuul. Though they both had slinky creatures, they were quite the opposite in manner.

[Kiran]

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

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

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

[Chek]

A tiny gray head peered around the corner of a particular room in the wherlings’s hallway, his nostrils expanding as he inhaled deeply of the thick, overwhelming scent of meat drifting down the hallway, Suspect mischief. The Law require investigate. Tisk return shortly. Rather than leaving immediately after this announcement, he paused, looking back at Tius until the man had a moment to acknowledge him.

Tius did after a moment, tapping a tiny pick against the wax of the mold he was carving, “Take Sif with you.”

Tisk considered this for a moment, then nodded to himself, barking back sharply into the room to summon his enforcer. Sif uncoiled from a high shelf and fluttered down, landing beside the gray who she still was a touch bigger than, even if you discounted her tail. She nosed him over speculatively, but hopped along beside him willingly enough when he briskly turned and exited the room, her nose lifting at the scent of meat.

Interesting!

It didn’t take the pair long to get to the source of the ruckus, Tisk jolting to a stop and baring his teeth in a sneering snarl as he recoiled, announcing the melee as, Shameful, disorderly! He barked roughly at the crowd and walked in a wide circle around the edge, examining the Lawbreakers, all temptation of the meat absent. Sif simply waited for his commands – she got away with biting more things listening to her tiny gray commander than she ever had before.

Tisk paused in front of Tussbuul and landed the man with a glower, Allow nonsense! Primary suspect. Defense?

[Azhdarchid]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Completely guilty."

[lee]

Jossk knew that smell.

That smell was dinner.

COME. She demanded imperiously of her personal assistant, who grumbled but didn’t get an answer when he asked why, trailing dutifully behind her by half a pace, clumping noisily.

But abruptly, the skinny wher turned on her toes and marched away at quite a clip. Joshu chased after her, having caught sight of the anarchistic scene spewing before them. "Jossk, hey, where are you goin’? Everyone’s here.”

Jossk tossed a ‘look’ over her shoulder with a vast, gusty sigh. He had such a good brain. Why he no use it, Jossk not know. Everyone here? Mean no one at kitchen, where also have Free Meat. Jossk go to kitchen, kitchen be empty while all wher get eat by Tussk, Jossk get all tasty morsel munchies for self, not get eat by Tussk, not get tempted to eat Tisk who always think Tisk right when Jossk CLEARLY KNOW BETTER. Oooh...fish stew!

Joshu rubbed his temples as the pair left he chaos far, far behind for the warmth and welcome of the kitchens. Fish stew.

Whers don't eat stew.

Jossk eat stew. Jossk be wher. Ear-goo, wher eat stew. Joshu argument be wrong. Sorry about luck, too bad for Joshu. Now give stew.