[Log] Devoured Eyes and Entrail Boas
Who: I'daur, K'del, P'ax, Persie, Rascela
When: Day 13, Month 2, Turn 18
Where: Feeding Pens, High Reaches Weyr
What: Weyrling dragons wreak havoc in the feeding pens.
Feeding Grounds, High Reaches Weyr
Wedged between the lake and the rest of the vast bowl are the dusty feeding grounds. Here, the well-trampled ground is contained by a sturdy wooden fence, cutting right through one end of the lake to section it off into a muddy watering hole for the animals. Several gates allow people in and out, while at the back, large overhangs of rock provide the herd -- a mixed bag of herdbeasts, wing-clipped wherries, and fat porcines -- shelter from storms or the hot sun. What grass survives is usually bloodstained, but feeding troughs are stationed around the edges of the pen.
Obvious exits:
Bowl
The weyrlings have been trying to hunt a little before now, but it's not generally going well: young and clumsy on the ground still, those pesky beasts just have a way of fleeing out of the way, until both I'daur and Zunaeth are groaning. The weyrlingmaster leans up against the rail, rubbing his face; his bronze is camped out at one end of the pens, helping to keep the feed animals herded back toward the dragons that are running all about.
Like a good sidekick, Persie is there alongside I'daur, sitting up on the fence rail with her boots hooked onto a lower rung, wincing as one of the young dragons misses another attempt. Secath mans another corner of the corrals, wings spread to make hersef bigger and keep more of the animals where the weyrlings can get at them. She glowers at Zunaeth as if this is all. his. fault.
Also perched on the fence is Rascela, hunkered over to watch the goings on like some kind of odd gargoyle. She is, for the moment, utterly impassive while she watches Uanth -- much as Uanth seems to be patiently seated just over there, pale muzzle moving from one beast to another. Appraising, naturally. "Go and pick one, a'ready," Raz grunts after a long moment, weight shifting slightly on the fence. The brown, unhelpfully, just resettles his wings. Watching. Waiting.
You won't have to drag Yyth to this one. She's been eager for this since she was born. It's just P'ax who is looking a little ill at the prospects of having to watch her actually catch and kill something. Let alone eating it. "This is going to be ugly..." P'ax tells the air, climbing up onto the fence and curling his fingers together. Yyth hurdles eagerly into the feeding grounds, wings flapping and teeth bared, snarling and snapping and intentially goading the already terrified beasts.
Zunaeth looks impassively back at Secath. What? It is his fault. But he's not ashamed, and snaps at one herdbeast to aim it more toward Unath, since the pale brown is just sitting there. And I'daur moves toward Rascela in the process, to pause by her. "He going to do something?" wonders the weyrlingmaster.
Persie leeeeans over to the side, her eyes still on the young dragons but her words for Rascela. "Is he nervous?" she wonders, then flashing a smile for the brownrider. "About this whole hunting thing?" Taking that sideways leaning and going forward, she looks past to P'ax, her open expression making it seem as though she might say something encouraging or friendly or, well, positive in some way. But then her good intentions peter out and she just sits upright again on her fence rail. Secath, meanwhile, is staring a ballsy buck down until he turns to run back toward possible death at the talons and teeth of the younger green who is having such a lovely time terrifying the animals.
Uanth regards Yyth's antics from his peripheral vision, but he makes no comment -- audible or otherrwise. Instead, he finally rises and takes a few awkward-loping steps just to this side over here -- well away from the carnal green. The beast that's sent his way is shied from, his wings mantling a bit. From the fence, Raz reaches up to rub at her face with a hand and then to drag that hand through her cropped hair. Her gaze slides over to I'daur and then Persie with a grunted, "He's gettin' there, sir. He's shardin' picky." There's a glassy-eyed pause, then clarity with a blandly intoned, "Says he don't like the eyes on that'un."
P'ax ignores Persie and her good intentions anyways, watching Yyth nipping at flanks and hopping gracefully after a clump of does. The buck is given equal treatment, terrorized and screeched at. "Oh, come on, Yyth, just... eat one."
Cadejoth, for once, is not quite so troublesome as his clutchmates - he seems to have taken to this activity with great excitement, jumping and darting at beasts, and, finally, bringing one down, which he then nudges his nose at with interest. Ooh. "So now," says Kas, from the fencepost, "You get to eat it, Cadejoth. Just - you know, /eat/."
"Cadejoth's got it," I'daur points out that dragon when he catches the bronze out of the corner of his eye. "Might want to take some notes." He shakes his head at the brown's patience, but moves on after a moment, pausing to check up on several other weyrlings along the way. One of them is P'ax; I'daur pauses by the greenrider to eye Yyth. "Y'know," he says dryly. "Point ain't to scare them to death, though suppose if you get 'em dead..." Shrug.
Cadejoth's success is met with a squeal. Not from the beast he's taken down (though, okay, maybe it squeals too), but from Persie. She's clapping and hooting and making a fuss of proud encouragement the bronze's success. Secath tries to pretend that she doesn't know the crazy blonde woman on the fence, who is now adding for Rascela's benefit, "Well, it's not a race. Uanth can take his time." Persie says this and then looks to I'daur, just to make sure it's true.
"Yeah, I think he-" Ahh, there. At long last does Uanth move, though that movement is as stiff and awkward as ever. He hurls his lean bulk at one beast, bringing the squalling thing down with a *whump*. Before it's properly dead, however, but well after it's able to get up, he fixes his gaze on the thing's head. Quickly, he gouges the eyes out of the beast for his disturbingly blissful consumption ... and then it's on to fully dispatching the creature. Raz makes a strangled and highly disgusted noise at the back of her throat, her tongue briefly lolling out. "That wasn't shardin' necessary, Uanth. /Jays/."
K'del gives Persie a genuinely dubious glance, as if he, too, is embarrassed to be anywhere near her - though to be fair, his grin is pretty broad, too, particularly once Cadejoth actually begins eating the creature in question, which is now, thanks to teeth and talons, distinctly dead. But tasty, evidently. None of this entirely distracts K'del from the others - and Uanth's eye-gouging does draw his attention. "Shells and shards, Rascela. I'd've thought that'd be Yyth's thing."
Yyth is distracted from terrorizing by Cadejoth's success. Huffing and snorting, she comes trotting over him. Like the hyena to the lion, she noses him, completely intent on stealing his hard work. "Yyth, /no/, get your own," P'ax groans, leaning forward with the fence rail gripped firmly in his hands. I'daur is eyed and he shrugs, "At least she'd have killed one if that happens. She might even eat it... or play with it, yeah."
"Well. Make sure she eats what she kills in the end," says I'daur. "Can't go wastin' them." And he glances arond at the noises coming from Rascela's way, a glance flicking to Uanth a beat later. I'daur, at least, doesn't look disgusted by it, though he does shake his head and mutter something about bloody weyrlings.
See, it's all happiness and waving pompoms when they start taking animals down, but when the young dragons begin their eviscerations... well, that has Persie hiding behind her hands so she doesn't have to watch. "Oh man, that eyeball thing was gross," she says, making similar eww-noises and hanging-tongue-faces back at Rascela. But now it's Secath's turn to look rather pleased with her charges; she pretends she's not paying any attention, but the toss of her head and the satisfied rumble give her away.
"'Least you didn't haveta shardin' /taste/ it. Like a sharding grape filled with-" something so unspeakable that she can't find the word for it. That would be directed to K'del and Persie courtesy of Rascela, who is trying mightily to swallow. "He likes eyes alluva sudden. No shardin' idea why." Uanth, naturally, has moved on to actually eating the rest of the thing, his long digits writhing with delight.
Cadejoth lifts his head, now blood-stained, to peer at Yyth, as if to say 'what do you want?' - then he noses her back, shoving her away, and gets back to his meal, shifting his body around so as to protect his kill. "That's pretty gross," Kas tells Rascela, though he doesn't sound too bothered with the whole thing. "The tasting, I mean. Yuck. Oh - Cadejoth, don't /play/ with it." The bronze seems to have decided that pulling bits off is fun - well, the ouside doesn't taste that good, anyway.
"Taste it." I'daur eyes Rascela, brows arching as he watches the brown a moment longer. But the shoving between Cadejoth and Yyth shortly has his attention, and he watches that pair for a moment, then their riders the more intently for it. "Don't let 'em get away from you," he notes, a brief cautionary note for the rough-housing.
Secath starts to slack on her job as a dragon-turned-fence, her wings sinking back against her sides and her gaze wandering off as she pick delicately toward the actual fence. Persie is peeking out from between her fingers. "Are you feeling sick at all?" she asks Rascela, just in case. "You know, some people do get sick the first time. It's pretty normal."
The guts of the beast are spilled with a neat flick of Uanth's claws and he sits for a long time just studying them, head tilted at an improbable angle. Raz, from her perch, grumbles, "Ain't nothin' t'see, y'silly git. Just eat." And the weyrling glances to I'daur with a sour look, "He's sharin'. Tastes and textures and stuff." And it's gross, though she manages to school her expression into something closer to her usual indifference. To Persie, a shake of her head. "Ain't sick. Just wasn't expectin' that."
P'ax watches Yyth as she continues trying to bully Cadejoth away, even going so far as to come around the other side and latch onto a leg to begin dragging the carcass that way. "Oh dear. Yyth, your /own/, get your own!" He glances up at I'daur and groans, "She wants to /share/. Faranth's shards.. Yours, Yyth, get your own! No, no, don't!" He closes his eyes when the leg tears off with a truly ugly crunch of cartiledge. "Oh, gross." But with the leg, Yyth seems satisfied and sits down with it at her feet like a gold with a particularly nice clutch of eggs. She did /good/.
"Control her," I'daur says evenly, watching P'ax rather than Yyth as the green muscles in on Cadejoth's kill. "Don't let her boss you."
"You know, I don't really watch this stuff most of the time." Persie is musing now on her usual visits to the pen, visits without gruesome weyrlings. "I mean, Secath eats and all, but I don't sit around as an audience or anything. And even when I do, I'm not really paying much attention to what she's doing. She's just eating. Or course she doesn't really eat like... like this." Secath hmphs across the pen. She certainly does not! "But you guys... I think your dragons all enjoy this a little too much."
Cadejoth leaves Yyth to that leg, and concentrates on the rest, though he remains protective, turning about every so often to watch for her, keep her from the rest of it. This does allow him a little time to take a bite here and there, but still, the process is slow-going. "They like it. But everyone keeps telling us that they're weird, so. Who's surprised?"
Rascela cants a look sidelong at Persie while she speaks, leaving Uanth to eventually settle into the task of actually eating the beast he's got all to himself. The weyrling grunts, "Aside from the eye thing, ain't so bad t'watch." But, then, Raz is the weird one that likes cutting meat up, so there's that. "Enh. They're them. Ain't sure they're weird s'far as they're concerned."
P'ax shakes his head at I'daur. "They'll work it out. She's not bossing me, she's just trying to boss /him/." Apparently P'ax has no intention of truly trying to call the dragon off. Yyth seems to resolve this on her own. She struts around the carcass with the leg clutched in one paw. It makes the way she walks slightly ungainly, more of a hop now than a loping stride. She sniffs at Cadejoth, and perhaps she finds him acceptable because she tucks the leg in next to him for safe keeping and charges ferociously at the largest buck in sight. The poor thing doesn't stand a chance as she catches it underneath, neatly ripping its belly open. Rather than finishing the job and killing it, she lets it die slowly on the ground while she walks away with one loop of entrails in her mouth and the rest trailing behind her like a lady's train.
"They're not weird," Persie says, as if she might even be a touch offended on their behalf. "Ok, well, Kelerith might be just a bit weird with the climbing... But really, I mean, they just have strong personalities. And that's good. Strong is good. And, well, it's not like I haven't ever pulled apart -my- food. It makes sense that they'd want to see everything that's going on in..." It's then that Yyth does such a lovely job of display some of those insides. It makes Persie pause for a moment to watch her. "...there. Okay. That should be gross, but she just seems so pleased," she comments on the young green.
Cadejoth rumbles warmly at Yyth - apparently all is forgiven? - as she heads off, watching with apparent enthusiasm for her kill, and another rumble of presumed congratulations. "That was /awesome/," he says, even giving P'ax a half-nod, despite their differences. "But she's not bossing him. They're coming to an agreement."
The antics of the others are noted in a peripheral sense, with Uanth staying out of matters. When Yyth finally brings down her first kill, the brown lifts his head, a coil of intestine clamped in his jaw and looped daintily on one of his forepaws. A funny sound, not quite a warble, seems to express his pleasure at the sight. Then his head swings around, more entrails being tugged out. Rascela, naturally, watches the whole thing without a blink. "Nice." For Yyth? For Uanth? Most likely both.
P'ax looks distinctly ill as Yyth lifts her head, aparently to drape the gray coil around Cadejoth like a feather boa. Then she trots back to the groaning beast, plunging her nose into the open cavity. The buck's thrashing ceases abruptly and the cause is seen as soon as Yyth's blood soaked head emerges. In her jaws, clutched so daintily, is the animals' heart. This, too, is delivered to Cadejoth. Then her head turns meaningfully towards Cadejoth's kill. "She likes him. The heart's her favorite."
Devoured eyes and entrail boas--I'daur just eyes the weyrling dragons, sighs out a breath, and digs into a pocket for his flask. He continues making the rounds idly, checking up on other weyrlings that are making their own kills, getting their dinners with various degrees of success.
When: Day 13, Month 2, Turn 18
Where: Feeding Pens, High Reaches Weyr
What: Weyrling dragons wreak havoc in the feeding pens.
Feeding Grounds, High Reaches Weyr
Wedged between the lake and the rest of the vast bowl are the dusty feeding grounds. Here, the well-trampled ground is contained by a sturdy wooden fence, cutting right through one end of the lake to section it off into a muddy watering hole for the animals. Several gates allow people in and out, while at the back, large overhangs of rock provide the herd -- a mixed bag of herdbeasts, wing-clipped wherries, and fat porcines -- shelter from storms or the hot sun. What grass survives is usually bloodstained, but feeding troughs are stationed around the edges of the pen.
Obvious exits:
Bowl
The weyrlings have been trying to hunt a little before now, but it's not generally going well: young and clumsy on the ground still, those pesky beasts just have a way of fleeing out of the way, until both I'daur and Zunaeth are groaning. The weyrlingmaster leans up against the rail, rubbing his face; his bronze is camped out at one end of the pens, helping to keep the feed animals herded back toward the dragons that are running all about.
Like a good sidekick, Persie is there alongside I'daur, sitting up on the fence rail with her boots hooked onto a lower rung, wincing as one of the young dragons misses another attempt. Secath mans another corner of the corrals, wings spread to make hersef bigger and keep more of the animals where the weyrlings can get at them. She glowers at Zunaeth as if this is all. his. fault.
Also perched on the fence is Rascela, hunkered over to watch the goings on like some kind of odd gargoyle. She is, for the moment, utterly impassive while she watches Uanth -- much as Uanth seems to be patiently seated just over there, pale muzzle moving from one beast to another. Appraising, naturally. "Go and pick one, a'ready," Raz grunts after a long moment, weight shifting slightly on the fence. The brown, unhelpfully, just resettles his wings. Watching. Waiting.
You won't have to drag Yyth to this one. She's been eager for this since she was born. It's just P'ax who is looking a little ill at the prospects of having to watch her actually catch and kill something. Let alone eating it. "This is going to be ugly..." P'ax tells the air, climbing up onto the fence and curling his fingers together. Yyth hurdles eagerly into the feeding grounds, wings flapping and teeth bared, snarling and snapping and intentially goading the already terrified beasts.
Zunaeth looks impassively back at Secath. What? It is his fault. But he's not ashamed, and snaps at one herdbeast to aim it more toward Unath, since the pale brown is just sitting there. And I'daur moves toward Rascela in the process, to pause by her. "He going to do something?" wonders the weyrlingmaster.
Persie leeeeans over to the side, her eyes still on the young dragons but her words for Rascela. "Is he nervous?" she wonders, then flashing a smile for the brownrider. "About this whole hunting thing?" Taking that sideways leaning and going forward, she looks past to P'ax, her open expression making it seem as though she might say something encouraging or friendly or, well, positive in some way. But then her good intentions peter out and she just sits upright again on her fence rail. Secath, meanwhile, is staring a ballsy buck down until he turns to run back toward possible death at the talons and teeth of the younger green who is having such a lovely time terrifying the animals.
Uanth regards Yyth's antics from his peripheral vision, but he makes no comment -- audible or otherrwise. Instead, he finally rises and takes a few awkward-loping steps just to this side over here -- well away from the carnal green. The beast that's sent his way is shied from, his wings mantling a bit. From the fence, Raz reaches up to rub at her face with a hand and then to drag that hand through her cropped hair. Her gaze slides over to I'daur and then Persie with a grunted, "He's gettin' there, sir. He's shardin' picky." There's a glassy-eyed pause, then clarity with a blandly intoned, "Says he don't like the eyes on that'un."
P'ax ignores Persie and her good intentions anyways, watching Yyth nipping at flanks and hopping gracefully after a clump of does. The buck is given equal treatment, terrorized and screeched at. "Oh, come on, Yyth, just... eat one."
Cadejoth, for once, is not quite so troublesome as his clutchmates - he seems to have taken to this activity with great excitement, jumping and darting at beasts, and, finally, bringing one down, which he then nudges his nose at with interest. Ooh. "So now," says Kas, from the fencepost, "You get to eat it, Cadejoth. Just - you know, /eat/."
"Cadejoth's got it," I'daur points out that dragon when he catches the bronze out of the corner of his eye. "Might want to take some notes." He shakes his head at the brown's patience, but moves on after a moment, pausing to check up on several other weyrlings along the way. One of them is P'ax; I'daur pauses by the greenrider to eye Yyth. "Y'know," he says dryly. "Point ain't to scare them to death, though suppose if you get 'em dead..." Shrug.
Cadejoth's success is met with a squeal. Not from the beast he's taken down (though, okay, maybe it squeals too), but from Persie. She's clapping and hooting and making a fuss of proud encouragement the bronze's success. Secath tries to pretend that she doesn't know the crazy blonde woman on the fence, who is now adding for Rascela's benefit, "Well, it's not a race. Uanth can take his time." Persie says this and then looks to I'daur, just to make sure it's true.
"Yeah, I think he-" Ahh, there. At long last does Uanth move, though that movement is as stiff and awkward as ever. He hurls his lean bulk at one beast, bringing the squalling thing down with a *whump*. Before it's properly dead, however, but well after it's able to get up, he fixes his gaze on the thing's head. Quickly, he gouges the eyes out of the beast for his disturbingly blissful consumption ... and then it's on to fully dispatching the creature. Raz makes a strangled and highly disgusted noise at the back of her throat, her tongue briefly lolling out. "That wasn't shardin' necessary, Uanth. /Jays/."
K'del gives Persie a genuinely dubious glance, as if he, too, is embarrassed to be anywhere near her - though to be fair, his grin is pretty broad, too, particularly once Cadejoth actually begins eating the creature in question, which is now, thanks to teeth and talons, distinctly dead. But tasty, evidently. None of this entirely distracts K'del from the others - and Uanth's eye-gouging does draw his attention. "Shells and shards, Rascela. I'd've thought that'd be Yyth's thing."
Yyth is distracted from terrorizing by Cadejoth's success. Huffing and snorting, she comes trotting over him. Like the hyena to the lion, she noses him, completely intent on stealing his hard work. "Yyth, /no/, get your own," P'ax groans, leaning forward with the fence rail gripped firmly in his hands. I'daur is eyed and he shrugs, "At least she'd have killed one if that happens. She might even eat it... or play with it, yeah."
"Well. Make sure she eats what she kills in the end," says I'daur. "Can't go wastin' them." And he glances arond at the noises coming from Rascela's way, a glance flicking to Uanth a beat later. I'daur, at least, doesn't look disgusted by it, though he does shake his head and mutter something about bloody weyrlings.
See, it's all happiness and waving pompoms when they start taking animals down, but when the young dragons begin their eviscerations... well, that has Persie hiding behind her hands so she doesn't have to watch. "Oh man, that eyeball thing was gross," she says, making similar eww-noises and hanging-tongue-faces back at Rascela. But now it's Secath's turn to look rather pleased with her charges; she pretends she's not paying any attention, but the toss of her head and the satisfied rumble give her away.
"'Least you didn't haveta shardin' /taste/ it. Like a sharding grape filled with-" something so unspeakable that she can't find the word for it. That would be directed to K'del and Persie courtesy of Rascela, who is trying mightily to swallow. "He likes eyes alluva sudden. No shardin' idea why." Uanth, naturally, has moved on to actually eating the rest of the thing, his long digits writhing with delight.
Cadejoth lifts his head, now blood-stained, to peer at Yyth, as if to say 'what do you want?' - then he noses her back, shoving her away, and gets back to his meal, shifting his body around so as to protect his kill. "That's pretty gross," Kas tells Rascela, though he doesn't sound too bothered with the whole thing. "The tasting, I mean. Yuck. Oh - Cadejoth, don't /play/ with it." The bronze seems to have decided that pulling bits off is fun - well, the ouside doesn't taste that good, anyway.
"Taste it." I'daur eyes Rascela, brows arching as he watches the brown a moment longer. But the shoving between Cadejoth and Yyth shortly has his attention, and he watches that pair for a moment, then their riders the more intently for it. "Don't let 'em get away from you," he notes, a brief cautionary note for the rough-housing.
Secath starts to slack on her job as a dragon-turned-fence, her wings sinking back against her sides and her gaze wandering off as she pick delicately toward the actual fence. Persie is peeking out from between her fingers. "Are you feeling sick at all?" she asks Rascela, just in case. "You know, some people do get sick the first time. It's pretty normal."
The guts of the beast are spilled with a neat flick of Uanth's claws and he sits for a long time just studying them, head tilted at an improbable angle. Raz, from her perch, grumbles, "Ain't nothin' t'see, y'silly git. Just eat." And the weyrling glances to I'daur with a sour look, "He's sharin'. Tastes and textures and stuff." And it's gross, though she manages to school her expression into something closer to her usual indifference. To Persie, a shake of her head. "Ain't sick. Just wasn't expectin' that."
P'ax watches Yyth as she continues trying to bully Cadejoth away, even going so far as to come around the other side and latch onto a leg to begin dragging the carcass that way. "Oh dear. Yyth, your /own/, get your own!" He glances up at I'daur and groans, "She wants to /share/. Faranth's shards.. Yours, Yyth, get your own! No, no, don't!" He closes his eyes when the leg tears off with a truly ugly crunch of cartiledge. "Oh, gross." But with the leg, Yyth seems satisfied and sits down with it at her feet like a gold with a particularly nice clutch of eggs. She did /good/.
"Control her," I'daur says evenly, watching P'ax rather than Yyth as the green muscles in on Cadejoth's kill. "Don't let her boss you."
"You know, I don't really watch this stuff most of the time." Persie is musing now on her usual visits to the pen, visits without gruesome weyrlings. "I mean, Secath eats and all, but I don't sit around as an audience or anything. And even when I do, I'm not really paying much attention to what she's doing. She's just eating. Or course she doesn't really eat like... like this." Secath hmphs across the pen. She certainly does not! "But you guys... I think your dragons all enjoy this a little too much."
Cadejoth leaves Yyth to that leg, and concentrates on the rest, though he remains protective, turning about every so often to watch for her, keep her from the rest of it. This does allow him a little time to take a bite here and there, but still, the process is slow-going. "They like it. But everyone keeps telling us that they're weird, so. Who's surprised?"
Rascela cants a look sidelong at Persie while she speaks, leaving Uanth to eventually settle into the task of actually eating the beast he's got all to himself. The weyrling grunts, "Aside from the eye thing, ain't so bad t'watch." But, then, Raz is the weird one that likes cutting meat up, so there's that. "Enh. They're them. Ain't sure they're weird s'far as they're concerned."
P'ax shakes his head at I'daur. "They'll work it out. She's not bossing me, she's just trying to boss /him/." Apparently P'ax has no intention of truly trying to call the dragon off. Yyth seems to resolve this on her own. She struts around the carcass with the leg clutched in one paw. It makes the way she walks slightly ungainly, more of a hop now than a loping stride. She sniffs at Cadejoth, and perhaps she finds him acceptable because she tucks the leg in next to him for safe keeping and charges ferociously at the largest buck in sight. The poor thing doesn't stand a chance as she catches it underneath, neatly ripping its belly open. Rather than finishing the job and killing it, she lets it die slowly on the ground while she walks away with one loop of entrails in her mouth and the rest trailing behind her like a lady's train.
"They're not weird," Persie says, as if she might even be a touch offended on their behalf. "Ok, well, Kelerith might be just a bit weird with the climbing... But really, I mean, they just have strong personalities. And that's good. Strong is good. And, well, it's not like I haven't ever pulled apart -my- food. It makes sense that they'd want to see everything that's going on in..." It's then that Yyth does such a lovely job of display some of those insides. It makes Persie pause for a moment to watch her. "...there. Okay. That should be gross, but she just seems so pleased," she comments on the young green.
Cadejoth rumbles warmly at Yyth - apparently all is forgiven? - as she heads off, watching with apparent enthusiasm for her kill, and another rumble of presumed congratulations. "That was /awesome/," he says, even giving P'ax a half-nod, despite their differences. "But she's not bossing him. They're coming to an agreement."
The antics of the others are noted in a peripheral sense, with Uanth staying out of matters. When Yyth finally brings down her first kill, the brown lifts his head, a coil of intestine clamped in his jaw and looped daintily on one of his forepaws. A funny sound, not quite a warble, seems to express his pleasure at the sight. Then his head swings around, more entrails being tugged out. Rascela, naturally, watches the whole thing without a blink. "Nice." For Yyth? For Uanth? Most likely both.
P'ax looks distinctly ill as Yyth lifts her head, aparently to drape the gray coil around Cadejoth like a feather boa. Then she trots back to the groaning beast, plunging her nose into the open cavity. The buck's thrashing ceases abruptly and the cause is seen as soon as Yyth's blood soaked head emerges. In her jaws, clutched so daintily, is the animals' heart. This, too, is delivered to Cadejoth. Then her head turns meaningfully towards Cadejoth's kill. "She likes him. The heart's her favorite."
Devoured eyes and entrail boas--I'daur just eyes the weyrling dragons, sighs out a breath, and digs into a pocket for his flask. He continues making the rounds idly, checking up on other weyrlings that are making their own kills, getting their dinners with various degrees of success.