Post by 4horseshowgirl4 on Mar 28, 2009 23:38:28 GMT -5
The Greenpair kept marching on in the starless night, a sort of total darkness enveloping them, with only the lamplike eyes of a wher providing small dots of light in the landscape. Small pricks of light that were all the stars were that night occasionally broke through the cloud cover to momentarily reveal the lay of the land and the two small shapes, the only moving figures in the barren landscape. Viewed from the Weyr, they seemed like a pitifully small force, moving painfully slowly, to send out against the overwhelming darkness. They hardly seemed like a pair that could prevent any evil from reaching Dalibor using the stealth of night, and, yet, that's who was out there doing just that. Then, the clouds would triumph against the stars, and their silhouettes would be obliberated by the blackness again.
Whinae kept a careful hand on Whisk's shoulders. Her eyes were deplorably poor when trying to cut through the night's air, and she was forced to rely on Whisk's far superior vision to guide them. However, 'forced' was probably not the correct word, as the close bond between the two meant that each would trust the other with her life. The two moved as one in a curious way: for every cautious step the wher took, the human took one as well, with the same foot. They stayed out of each other's way, and, yet, they maintained just the correct contact. It was evident that they were experienced in these sort of night wanderings from how fluidly they moved with each other, each deliberative, careful step in perfect harmony, their four ears and headknobs all pointed in different directions to cover them all. A sort of electricity ran between their minds, or perhaps it was between the hand and the hide, for as soon as one caught wind of something worrying, the other knew about it immediately. Whether that communication was through telepathy or the feel of the other's tensed muscles was impossible to tell. The two were so in sync with each other that even they would be hard-pressed to describe how they did it. They just did.
In the dark, it was a futile effort to tell that the wher's hide was Green, yellowish shade that it was. The 'Handler's blonde hair, too, was cloaked, though it should have stood out. The two had been at Dalibor for almost a month now, but it would be many Turns before they lost the skills they had learned traveling at night for Turns by themselves as the holdless, if they ever did. It almost felt natural to escape the safety of the Weyr by day and roam at night. During the day while they slept, yes, both's slumber was far more peaceful with the knowledge that there were scores of people guarding the Weyr, and them, while they slept, and, naturally, Whinae and Whisk needed to return the favor, guarding the Weyr at night while the others slept.
These nightly patrols weren't required or organized in any way, as there was no Alpha Wherhandler or even a Beta one who was willing to step up and whip them into shape. Still, it was only a part of a Wherhandler's duty to watch for things that went bump in the night, hmm? The Greenpair certainly thought so, so here they were. They hadn't exactly asked for others to come with them, and yet both were rather regretting that they hadn't. The Western Continent was still new, unfamiliar territory, and Whisk was still adapting to it. As the more paranoid part of the duo, the wher felt compelled to stop every few seconds just to more thoroughly inspect what was around her. Whinae, with her infinite patience, stopped with the wher everytime, also checking around her with her limited human senses. Still, all was quiet for now, which was good. Every danger that Whisk had thought she sensed had fortunately turned out to be a false alarm.
As Whisk stopped yet again, Whinae felt a sudden pang of loneliness. The wher picked up on it in a fraction of a second, as she had picked up on everything from Whinae that night. Patrolling as they were, Whinae and Whisk had mentally recessed into the days when they were holdless, where it was either be this connected or be caught unsurprised and die. The Green recognized the emotion, and Whinae caught it radiated back at her ten times stronger as Whisk's own emotion. {I wouldn't say no to a little company, Whisk} Whinae said softly, stroking the alert Green's eye ridges gently. Whisk affectionately butted Whinae's hip before turning back to her duty, quickly pretending as if she had never wavered from the task at hand, which happened to be inspecting a nearby bush to see if what had rustled its leaves was really just a bird settling in for the night. Lonely! was the wher's hasty response. Whinae sighed before following the Green as she trudged forward again. {Yes, my darling. For the new residents of such a quickly growing Weyr, it seems like we would have made friends by now, hmm?} No friends here! Whisk replied, stringing the words together after a slight struggle. Her sharp tone reminded Whinae that this wasn't just a pointless stroll, but the wher couldn't keep the longing for company out of her voice.
[/font]Whinae kept a careful hand on Whisk's shoulders. Her eyes were deplorably poor when trying to cut through the night's air, and she was forced to rely on Whisk's far superior vision to guide them. However, 'forced' was probably not the correct word, as the close bond between the two meant that each would trust the other with her life. The two moved as one in a curious way: for every cautious step the wher took, the human took one as well, with the same foot. They stayed out of each other's way, and, yet, they maintained just the correct contact. It was evident that they were experienced in these sort of night wanderings from how fluidly they moved with each other, each deliberative, careful step in perfect harmony, their four ears and headknobs all pointed in different directions to cover them all. A sort of electricity ran between their minds, or perhaps it was between the hand and the hide, for as soon as one caught wind of something worrying, the other knew about it immediately. Whether that communication was through telepathy or the feel of the other's tensed muscles was impossible to tell. The two were so in sync with each other that even they would be hard-pressed to describe how they did it. They just did.
In the dark, it was a futile effort to tell that the wher's hide was Green, yellowish shade that it was. The 'Handler's blonde hair, too, was cloaked, though it should have stood out. The two had been at Dalibor for almost a month now, but it would be many Turns before they lost the skills they had learned traveling at night for Turns by themselves as the holdless, if they ever did. It almost felt natural to escape the safety of the Weyr by day and roam at night. During the day while they slept, yes, both's slumber was far more peaceful with the knowledge that there were scores of people guarding the Weyr, and them, while they slept, and, naturally, Whinae and Whisk needed to return the favor, guarding the Weyr at night while the others slept.
These nightly patrols weren't required or organized in any way, as there was no Alpha Wherhandler or even a Beta one who was willing to step up and whip them into shape. Still, it was only a part of a Wherhandler's duty to watch for things that went bump in the night, hmm? The Greenpair certainly thought so, so here they were. They hadn't exactly asked for others to come with them, and yet both were rather regretting that they hadn't. The Western Continent was still new, unfamiliar territory, and Whisk was still adapting to it. As the more paranoid part of the duo, the wher felt compelled to stop every few seconds just to more thoroughly inspect what was around her. Whinae, with her infinite patience, stopped with the wher everytime, also checking around her with her limited human senses. Still, all was quiet for now, which was good. Every danger that Whisk had thought she sensed had fortunately turned out to be a false alarm.
As Whisk stopped yet again, Whinae felt a sudden pang of loneliness. The wher picked up on it in a fraction of a second, as she had picked up on everything from Whinae that night. Patrolling as they were, Whinae and Whisk had mentally recessed into the days when they were holdless, where it was either be this connected or be caught unsurprised and die. The Green recognized the emotion, and Whinae caught it radiated back at her ten times stronger as Whisk's own emotion. {I wouldn't say no to a little company, Whisk} Whinae said softly, stroking the alert Green's eye ridges gently. Whisk affectionately butted Whinae's hip before turning back to her duty, quickly pretending as if she had never wavered from the task at hand, which happened to be inspecting a nearby bush to see if what had rustled its leaves was really just a bird settling in for the night. Lonely! was the wher's hasty response. Whinae sighed before following the Green as she trudged forward again. {Yes, my darling. For the new residents of such a quickly growing Weyr, it seems like we would have made friends by now, hmm?} No friends here! Whisk replied, stringing the words together after a slight struggle. Her sharp tone reminded Whinae that this wasn't just a pointless stroll, but the wher couldn't keep the longing for company out of her voice.