Hunting Lesson

Monaco Bay Weyr - Feeding Grounds
Jungle screens in this enormous pasture on all sides, protecting the resident herdbeasts from the daily activity of the Weyr. A likewise huge run-in shelter has been built out from another bubble cavern, large enough to shelter a decent-sized herd from inclement weather. It sits broodingly over the black-paved path that leads back towards the clearing, like a gaping maw from which extends a shoulder-high stone fence that encircles the pasture as far as the eye can see.


Despite it being summer, the afternoons at Monaco remain pleasant. It's honestly quite nice outside and strong breeze blows through the Weyr. Arriving to the feedings grounds is the pale Fuerioth, her silver-gold hide glistening in the light as she moves gracefully along. Next to her is the less than graceful Reya. Her hair has been tied back in a short pony tail and it seems that Fuerioth won today's dressing battle because she's in a rather nice pair of shorts and a simple flowing tank top, coral in color. The woman pauses at the fence, climbing on top of it and then turning around to scan the area. "I mean, he's the one that asked me to come…how come I'm here first?" She might not even be the first one there honestly. Reya has a way of missing things that are /right/ in front of her /eyes/.

Leketh is probably easier to spot than his rider, his pale bronze hide edged in pure gold practically glistening from the oiling that he's recently undergone. A warm and welcoming croon is extended towards Fuerioth first and foremost, lowering his neck to the queen. If J'en, who follows close behind, was at all in the right state of mind he might have snorted and rolled his eyes at his lifemate's behavior. But he's not. Thankfully the weather was comfortable today, because the assistant weyrlingmaster was dressed in his riding leathers, his custom fitted jacket clasped and snapped tightly closed. Half-lidded golden eyes slide towards Reya as he approaches, and then around the feeding grounds. "No weyrlings," he breaths out, his voice colder and more distant than his usual even neutrality. Coming to a stop, a hand drifts to his hip, looking back the way he'd come, expectantly. "I was hopin' to teach their first 'unt today…" And why was Reya there? "I ain't ever seen Fuerioth 'unt, was 'opin' for some contrast…"

The little princess, as her Rider fondly calls her, straightens her wings as though preparing herself for a royal audience. Both Rider and young dragon hesitate for a moment before marching in heads held high. Ysleth is washed and oiled and gleams like an emerald set in a proud woman's ring. The sight of her dam make her eyes whirl blue as she steps toward her and lowers her head. Cinni laughs yet bows as well, the two of them so attuned that no words pass between them. «Lessons!» breathes the green like a fresh whisper of wind high in the treetops.

Fuerioth's head swivels to look at the crooning bronze and her regality is suddenly replaced by something far more fierce and unwelcoming. A low hiss is sent in Leketh's direction, eyes swirling with just a hint of red interspersed with blue. The typically cool waters of her mind are instead replaced by an icy chill that flows in his direction before she moves to the feeding grounds. "Hunt? I don't know if she's hungry really…." But Reya is, in different ways. Her eyes are /totally/ dragging over J'en right now (look Sev, this is what happens when you leave). "She might kill something for fun though…Leketh not included." There's a smirk on the woman's lips as she glances over to her lifemate, whose attention has finally dropped on the small green. There's a soft croon from the gold for Ysleth. Female dragons are /much/ better company for her when Fuerioth is proddy!

That inhospitable hiss does not deter Leketh any, he's very interested in everything about Fuerioth now, although he apparently isn't stupid because he gives her a wide berth. As the queen hops the fence and makes for deeper inside the corral, the bronze steps over it all casually like, those whirling sapphire facets wholly focused on her and her alone. J'en straightens as he feels Reya's eyes raking over him, slowly turning his head towards the weyrwoman, and yet not a single feature on his mask-like face changes. In fact, it was like he was looking through her, rather than at her. "Leketh can 'andle 'imself," he replies, voice on the cusp of frosty without actually going there, but it sure should feel like the temperature dropped a bit anyway. His attention easily wavers towards Cinni and Ysleth as they arrive, chin lifting minutely. "As can I…" Then, to the weyrling pair, "Cinni," he addresses, no less without momentum than he had with Reya, "Ya 'old off on feedin' 'er like I told ya? Gunna be teachin' 'er to 'unt today and be best if she was purposeful rather than makin' this out to be a game."

«We have not eaten» comes the reply, bells ringing discordantly as her eyes whirl hungrily. «Today, I hunt!» rings louder. Cinni takes a deep breath, her eyes lidding as she holds out a hand toward the green. "I apologize for her rudeness," she says undramatically. "She /is/ hungry." And the young woman, now after time spent among the dragons is well aware of the current that passes between the senior Riders. Two months before perhaps her gaze would have held judgment. No longer. The life and minds of dragons are now hers.

« Pay attention to Ysleth. » Fuerioth snaps at Leketh, the darkness of her mind growing even colder as her head moves to watch him once more. She moves away, even farther now, to watch the beasts with swirling eyes. She won't eat today, but nor will she blood. Take out her anger though? Most definitely. "Well aren't you just positively cheerful today." Reya steps back onto the grass and starts making her way towards J'en, "Don't suppose I could convince you to take your shirt off?" Not subtle at all. But hey, it worked on Xh'vyr /before/ he was a candidate and all so she's totally going to give it a try. And then she's attempting to lean on him. Course she isn't being very fast right now and J'en could quite easily avoid it if he wanted to! Oh but Cinni, /you/ aren't immune to all this either. Reya's eyes now move to the weyrling and she's totally checking her out. Reya isn't stupid enough, despite the proddy, to make a move on her, but she will /look/.

"Good," J'en looks between green and weyrling, "I want ya to keep in mind that the first time ain't always successful, but that after today yer gunna be spendin' the time ya would 'ave been feedin' 'er, 'ere. That means no more 'and fed meals." It sounded as if he was reading the instructions on how to put together a shelving unit, but at least the words coming out of that pierced mouth was useful. « Why? She's not nearly as beautiful as you are. » Leketh's mindscape is focused on a globby mass suspended in by spinner silk that extends out into the darkness, dewy pearls of thought pulsing slowly between blue and red along them from the center. "Leketh," J'en suddenly exhales, garnering his lifemate's attention with a turn of his head upon the pivot of his neck, "Will demonstrate 'ow it's done." And with that the bronze chuffs, glancing back towards Fuerioth, and then his head snaps towards where the animals further out were starting to look restless. J'en though, he was apparently Reya's prey for the moment, not that he seems to notice. He doesn't even bother to shrug when the woman notes his lack of cheer, merely glancing her way in passing before returning to Cinni and Ysleth, "Pay attention," he suggests with a faint jerk of his chin towards the grounds, before Reya's brazen request draws lash lowered golden eyes back towards her. Take off his what? "No." That answer was firm and so flat not even a pencil would roll had it been set on it, taking measured steps towards the fence and away from the proddy weyrwoman when she gets within two feet of him. "And dun touch mah weyrlin's neither." Clasping his hands behind his back, J'en stands tall and straight, intent on watching his lifemate hunt as well. Soon enough, Leketh is lowering his body towards the ground, his long tail swishes and swirls, haunches lifting higher than the rest of him as his facets track one fat looking wherry in particular. The dumb creature pauses for only a second to sniff at something on the ground and that's it, Leketh is off with surprising speed and deadly accuracy, leaping up into the air and pouncing on his prey. The wherry lets out a blood-curdling scream type of sound, struggling for all of a second before the bronze wraps one forepaw around its neck, leans into it, and SNAP. At this point, the wherry moves nor squawks again, sagging lifelessly beneath him.

Cinni has seen it from a distance before but the hunger, the fine instinct for the moment, the smell of blood and the keen of the animal all have another meaning for her as she imbibes the scene through her lifemates eyes. Hunger whirls in the the green jewel's eyes and she becomes something new for Cinni. They discover the hunger of the hunter together, the finesse of it. All of this allows her to ignore the by-play between the Seniors. She will not go there though it will become part of that first hunt for the young woman. Not only the heat of blood.

There is a small not quite grown wherry, newly separated from its mother, bawling in the corner. Ysleth is not overly ambitious, she chooses her quarry - in the two lifemates ressemble one another, the careful caution, the weighing of pros and cons. Like her elder, the young dragon's tail twitches like a cat, haunches rise making her small form seem larger. She runs in that awkward gait but rises in a sudden leap onto the wherry. It screams as Ysleth bites its throat and the two of them, Cinni and Ysleth know what it is like to drink life blood together for the first time. The young woman blanches and her knees tremble.

"I'm not going to touch the weyrlings, just /look/." Reya huffs before moving after J'en, much like a shadow. "C'moooon, I just want a little peek. I mean, it's got to be /super/ hot under all that. It's summer, show some skin." The weyrwoman seems completely undeterred by his refusal and is apparently just going to ask again. She doesn't quite make it to his side before she's pausing, "Also…nice ass. No wonder S'van likes you!" Nevermind that there are probably a /million/ other reasons why they're weyrmates. But yeah, she's just gonna stare at his butt for a little bit before finally moving to the fence. « Of course I'm beautiful. » Fuerioth says this quite matter of factly while settling down in the corner of the field. She watches as the bronze makes the kill and…is entirely unimpressed. She even lets out a faint snort before swirling eyes are turned towards Ysleth once more. "Ohhhh, nice kill! I like the blood. Don't worry, you'll get used to it." Reya, completely nonchalant about the whole thing. Fuerioth? At warble indicating she's proud.

"Reya." Xh'vyr's recently-attached to the class, having been sent up after finishing the labor of — well, anything that has to do with Aeldhiyth, the beast is huge and he requires an immense amount of attention at any given moment, just for physical upkeep. That's not even talking about the emotional drain of mentally living with a creature that claims EVERYTHING around him for himself. He's arrived just to hear the goldrider's words towards J'en, which for which his objections evidently rise. His gaze drifts over to Cinni briefly, eyebrows raising when he realizes Ysleth's done what she's done, and all but refuses to look at J'en before re-focusing on Reya. His jaw clenches for some unearthly reason before he opens his mouth. The delay shows he does not go off to say whatever originally was in his mind to say, so instead he goes with, "You know, I lost that mesh shirt. It's almost as if someone didn't steal into my wardrobe and left it for me." Only then does he level a look at J'en, an even one, with a face devoid of visible emotion.

Without looking back, "Shouldn't be lookin' at 'em like that neither," the bronzerider breathes out in what he might have intended as a sigh but there just wasn't enough effort involved to bring it into being. As Reya persists, not a feather is ruffled or displaced, J'en remaining at the fence and peering over the shoulder high stone wall towards where Ysleth was beginning to emulate Leketh. "No, an' no matter 'ow many times ya ask, the answer's gunna be the same." It was as if he was ice skating from one word the next and that at any moment his next exhale would produce a plume of visible breath from his lips. However, it was either the comment on his ass, Xh'vyr's timely arrival and interjection, or the mention of his Xanadu bound weyrmate that brings his full and unfettered attention upon the proddy weyrwoman. He doesn't speak, but that look he gives her was unlike any other he'd bestowed before. It was hard and cold, more than sufficient to send the hairs up on the back of one's neck, because in that moment it was as if he was fully imagining doing to Reya what Leketh was that wherry. Then, Ysleth makes her kill, and it's over as J'en turns his gaze back towards the feeding grounds and nods once in apparent approval. "Good," he says soft, even, and from someplace far away, turning towards Cinni, "It'll get easier with time, sit before ya fall." In the very same breath and without even looking the bronzeling's direction, "Xh'vyr, Aeldhiyth is up next." If the former smith was going to stab emotionless daggers at him, he was going to have to do it to the back of his head.

Wearily, trembling and listing to the side, Cinni sits in a heap, face reddening at her own lack of courage in front of these Riders who take the kill so nonchalently. Daggers seem to pass over her head, she doesn't care. She cares not to be sick in front of them. As a healer she has helped people through the last moments of their lives but never has she triumphed in death. It is that, less than the taste and the warmth of the blood that seems to linger in her mouth. Deep breath. She drags another and another in and makes herself stand. Quite pale, she brushes a curl that has loosened from the tight braid and nods vaguely to all that care to look in her direction. Indelibly, that moment will intertwine with Fuerioth's desires and the emotions that no one will share aloud.

"Xh'vyr!" Reya says his name with all the enthusiasm that his voice lacked. There's a sweet smile for him and that jaw clench /totally/ gets interpreted the way that the goldrider /wants/ to interpret it. "Don't worry, you've got a pretty nice ass too. Of course this totally the opposite of what J'en told her not to do, "I'm allowed to look at them, there's no problem with just /looking/." What eventually /does/ cause Reya to pause is that look J'en shoots in her direction…but perhaps without the intended effect. She quiets for a moment, head tilting to the side as examines him. "Mmm, J'en? Murder is not allowed at Monaco, you know that right? Though you're pretty enough you might get away with it." Woman is gonna be /maimed/ one of the days, just watch. Still, she'll at least step back to ogle him from afar, which is a /teensy/ bit better than before. Maybe some of that message actually did get across. From her place at the far end of the field Fuerioth sends a short rumble of greeting to the young bronze cause…he's technically still a baby, so no harm right? « Be swift with the kill. Playing with your food is not an honorable pastime. » Fuerioth's attention shifts to the green and more importantly her rider, « She'll need comforting…it isn't natural for them.» A pause. « /Most/ of them. » Yeah, Reya didn't have those issues.

Aeldhiyth takes the field in a wind's screening of omens and portents: ash and blood and the far-off rumble of wardrums. The rank scent of a day-old battlefield wafts unsavoury from the west, always from the west, and then dies under the full weight of Aeldhiyth's focus, his intensity. There isn't any murmur of crowds here: his mindvoice seems bereft without cinnamon. Any intent Xh'vyr had to play referee between J'en and Ryea disappears. Instead the man approaches the fence, even as Aeldhiyth approaches the herd. He doesn't look for the weak or the weary, the aged or decrepit. No, with the same possessiveness upon which he claims the world, he so claims the prizest buck amongst the midsts, scattering the herd into a stampede of hooves and terror as he launces himself in a short hike up to land with the crushing force of his weight upon the poor animal. There's a brief lowing, before Aeldhiyth's snout snakes down in violent regality, all the better to bite the poor thing's head right off and snap it into the air, catching it on the downstroke and crunching through bone and worse. Xh'vyr stands still as stone, staring, his face as pale as Cinni's, his knuckles white on the top fenceboard. The casual brutality of Aeldhiyth's eating continues, and the bronze seems inured to any commentary floating around him.

Somehow, J'en knew without looking back towards Cinni, that she had sat herself down. Whether that was because she took his advice or her legs did it for her, doesn't much matter as long as she wasn't careening over and smashing her head open. "Yer gunna havta push through it Cinni, for Ysleth's, 'cause if she gets the idea in 'er 'ead from ya that what she's doin' ain't natural she might come to question why she's doin' it." No, the assistant weyrlingmaster doesn't do anything other than stand straight by the fence with his hands clasped behind his back, waiting for Aeldhiyth to take to the field. However, his voice is quieter, albeit devoid of anything that would indicate human connection. It was an odd mix, to say the least. "Leave the weyrlin's alone, Reya." Yep, there's J'en reading the ingredients of stale bread aloud. Beyond that, the further exchange between Reya and Xh'vyr is ignored, not even a blip on his radar, giving the amused woman all of the cold shoulder even as she questions the validity of him getting away with killing her on the spot. Even calling him pretty garners no response, but Leketh's head as lifted from his half eaten meal, licking the blood from his maw and not even Fuerioth's presence seems capable of breaking the line of sight he's forged between himself and his lifemate, his facets whirling slower and in shades of shivering blue with touches of pale red. Which, J'en also ignores. All of his attention is dedicated to Aeldhiyth and soon that is Leketh's focus as well. Both rider and mount watch that powerful display of male aggression and hunger, neither flinching for the grisly results, and J'en as if he were watching paint dry. If there is surprise that both weyrlings, green and bronze, had managed to kill outright today when even most failed, it doesn't show. Golden eyes slide to Cinni first and then to Xh'vyr, but they only remain as long as necessary to assess their reactions. As Leketh returns to eating with his attention split between Fuerioth and himself, the bronzerider releases the air from his lungs to say, "Good. Aeldhiyth and Ysleth are cleared to use the 'untin' grounds from now on, and I'll remind ya again, no more 'and feedin'. They're big enough and capable enough to make their own fresh kills." Was he talking to Ysleth and Aeldhiyth? Might as well, considering how he slides his gaze from one to the other to observe how they're handling their future riders' stomachs going topsy-turvy.

J'en's words penetrate the miasma of reaction that the young woman feels. For Ysleth. For her lifemate, she will learn to embrace this, and surprisingly a word comes to mind, this delicious moment. «I am grown up, I am a hunter» clarions across the clearing when Ysleth's delicately green freckled head lifts covered in still warm blood. Cinni is able to nod and then voice her approval. "So big. Soon to be bigger and capable of feeding herself." Chin lifted in pride for her green and for herself, able to put aside her qualms for her that love, she nods and walks to the fence to clamber up beside Xh'vyr.

Reya is…bored. With Xh'vyr engaged in hunting, Cinni stick to her stomach, and J'en acting like his entire soul has left his body the Weyrwoman's got almost nothing to do. So…she's going to go and try and catch a wherry with her bare hands because why not. "Honestly, S'van is /temporarily/ gone J'en. Not dead." Because that has to be the source of the bad mood right? Or maybe it's sleep deprivation from the whole baby thing. But that? Yup, that's Reya climbing over the fence now and is going to be attempting to sneak into the midst of the animals. Will she get trampled? Possibly. But apparently it's a risk she's willing to take. Fuerioth, despite her rage, the more reasonable of the two is at least keeping a close eye on them. To be fair she /did/ used to be a caravan guard so rusty as she might be, the woman isn't completely clueless when it comes to stabbing things etc etc. « Not quite grown yet, but soon little Ysleth. Soon. »

The lesson, was over, the two weyrlings contemplating this new step forward and J'en leaves them to it. Both of them and their young veracious charges were safe and without the threat of bodily harm there was no reason left to stay. Leketh didn't need talon holding to crunch into that which remained of his kill, his attention wavering from his rider and back towards Fuerioth, but he does give the proddy queen all the breathing room she might require. It seems he'd learned to be as small and quiet as possible and not garner her wrath, so he keeps his thoughts to himself and only peeks up at her past his eyeridges now and then rather than full out stare like a stalker. Not a stalker maybe, but definitely a creeper. J'en either pretends not to notice or he's too distracted by the comment that Reya makes before she climbs the fence, once more sending icy cold spears her way as she once again mentions his absent weyrmate, "I'm aware," he chillingly replies like a sudden cold snap, and promptly turns on his heel to leave the weyrwoman to her undoubtedly unsuccessful barehanded wherry snatching. Long leather clad legs carry him unhurriedly away from the feeding grounds, and only then does Leketh turn his head away from Fuerioth to the weyrwoman herself, « My J'en misses Aedeluth's. Just hearing his name, is painful for him. »

Reya sneaks along the perimeter, eyes focused on finding a wherry that would be suitable to catch by hand. Fuerioth seems content to continue watching her, though the gold hardly acknowledges the occasional glances from the bronze. The pause in Reya's step only comes when words are suddenly directed at her and soon her dark eyes are resting on Leketh. "He clearly doesn't handle loneliness well." It's a matter of fact reply and perhaps there's a tinge of sympathy beneath it all but to be fair…Fuerioth's the only one Reya's /really/ felt that strongly about. Even when she was with T'revs for those many turns it was certainly nothing this intense. For her, a human attachment that intense is entirely foreign. "And doesn't he have a baby to take care of?" Absent-minded musings. But for all her lack of emotional intelligence, Fuerioth makes up for and there's a rather unhappy rumble from the dragon. Silence falls as the two proceed to argue about something, likely Reya's callousness, and eventually there's a huff. "Look, I'll get him a gift basket or something." And maybe have a more normal conversation at Fuerioth's urging once Reya's chilled out a bit from all the /proddy/~ (because that isn't helping the situation at all). For now though…still gonna try and catch a wherry!


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