Brownrider blues.
Who: H'kon, Tavaly, Arekoth, Immath
Where: Feeding Grounds, HRW
When: Dinnerish, day 26, month 11, turn 3 of the 7th Pass.
What: IMMATH WANT FOOD. AREKOTH TOO. Oh, hey, look. H'kon and Tav interact and they don't walk away with bruises or sore egos. This time. YAY!
The dinner rush is just starting to grind into gear. For the Weyrfolk, that is. The bowl is slowly draining of people in favor of satiating their hungers with what the kitchens have prepared for sup. There are a few who go in early and depart with their choice suppers, however. And one of them sits under a small overhang at the outer skirts of the feeding grounds. A bowl of warm, hearty stew, a thick fur blanket about her shoulders, Tav sits patiently while the mammoth green, too, fills her gullet with something warm. Kind of like stew, only it was moving a lot more recently than the meat that Tav herself chews with each mouthful. She sits cross-legged on the wide bench, hands holding the bowl out, back against the solid wood. Immath chews. Slowly.
And then there are those who enjoy later lunches of leftover scraps and snacks, so as to avoid crowds at that time, and therefore are still not gnawed by hunger when the official supper hour hits. H'kon follows that routine, though original plans of hiding the rest of the day in his weyr were rather disrupted by Arekoth's complaint of an empty belly. It's for this reason the pair arrive, the biped clad in a winter jacket, hands shoving into his pockets no sooner than he and Arekoth have landed just in the bowl. The quadruped, for his part, prefers the sky to the ground, especially when the weather is cool, and it's an aerial approach toward the pens. Until Immath is spotted, and Arekoth feels it necessary to divert his course into a lazy circle, calling out a crooned hello to the green. H'kon pauses. And, counter to his regular behaviour, chooses to head toward an occupied bench. Go figure.
There is a pile in front of the green that becomes more visible as the brown approaches. Bones, skins, bits of meat that are just too gamey for her tastes, and.. well, whatever else is left of the two decimated herdbeasts she's already gone through. Whatever the green ate while away from the Weyr, it does not seem to have been that great, for she's eating like a cow, at the moment. The slowness on the third beast, however, is a good sign. There is a gurgling croon in reply, and a polite, << Greetings. >> That almost completely lacks color, the bird fluttering about her thoughts perched and still. The sight of the brown for the other rider has the spoon paused before Tav's lips, and her head turning toward the sound of footsteps. Oh, Shards. "Evenin'." She offers, instead of the swear that hoverd upon her lips. "We're almost done here. Won't get in your way."
"Evening," H'kon repeats back with a far more careful enunciation. << Do they taste good today? >> The brown has certainly noticed the pile of dead things before that green. His thoughts are far less still, threads weaving in and out in the formation of an idea of eating, not so much verbalised. Arekoth is hungry. Anyong tuned in ought to be able to feel that. << I'll be back. >> And he's in the air, not even bothering to terrify the herd beyond what is necessary for catching a fat one. "You are not in our way," H'kon notes, pushing his hands further into his pockets, shoulders rolling forward.
"Not anymore." The greenrider says softly. She has not looked at him fully, yet. Instead, she stares over the open mouth of the bowl she holds, spoon still hovering while stew slops off of the end and back to join the greater mass. << They are fat and full and warm. They are definitely good. >> Immath replies, strings of satisfaction steeling their way between her thoughts as she pulls the head off this third beast. << The biggest ones hide against the wall of the bowl, if you're interested. >> And because it is worth saying, and necessary, in her mind. "Sorry for keepin' her gone so long. Wasn't my intent."
Any puzzlement originally incurred by that first comment is swept away with the second. And the brownrider tilts his head in what almost may seem a gracious gesture. Eyes are squinted still, and there's certainly a guarded look to him, mouth pushed into a line when not in use, brow furrowed. His head stays tilted down, so he's looking more from beneath his eyebrows. Any of his habitual twitchings seem to have been smothered for the time, though. "Well you brought her back." Which is sort of like a 'thank you'. A glance to the bench. A glance to Tavaly. Head tilts to the side. Arekoth, for his part, has found his prey already, and hauls it to be near-ish Immath. << I hardly ever have trouble finding the big ones, >> is quite boasted. Wings rustle as they settle over his back, and he wastes no more time in getting that first and much-anticipated bite.
<< You have greater need of them than I do. I like the fast ones. >> The green replies. For all her warmth in previous conversations, this particular moment sees the green a cool and somewhat distracted chat-partner. Poor Arekoth. "Swore I would, even if it weren't t'you I swore. She's a good healer, and an even better friend. Wouldn't want her t'come to any harm." For all that she did to not put her smack dab in the middle of it, harr harr. "Seems t'me she thinks highly of you. Might have to reconsider the idea of ya I've got in my head. Any fella that can care for her and have her do so in return must be worth somethin'." A glance over at the man, and Tav catches the eye on the bench. "Well, siddown if y'want. My arse ain' takin' up the whole damn thing."
Arekoth turns his head to view the green out of one eye, a bit of meat hanging quite attractively (he'd like to think) out of his mouth. << The fast ones are good to make run. There's no taste to them, though. >> After the first beast, surely, there will be more effort on his part to get that lovely green talking. On the other end of things, H'kon is still looking awkward, of course. The compliment of sorts is turned away with a sidelong glance at nothing in particular. "Well I am grateful, if there is anything you did to keep her safe." And 'siddown' he does, right at the end of the bench, certain no to crowd Tavaly. His hands come out of his pockets so as to clasp together before him, for the time not minding the cold. Elbows rest on his knees. He looks straight forward. Awkward.
He has enough awkward for the both of them. Tav, however, is relaxed. Resolved. "Everythin' in my power. Luckily, didn' need to have to go beyond it. Went arright, up to the end. And we're home safe." The stew is picked at again. From the side of her not visible from where H'kon sits, she pulls a small meatroll-inside a buttered bread roll from her parcel and offers it over, holding it out to the man, still not looking directly at him. "He looks well. How're you doin'?" This is called making conversation, right? She tries.
"Yes, you are," H'kon agrees. Movement seen out of the corner of his eye has his head turning, and the food is eyed for a moment, much as a stray dog might carefully inspect an offered hand. The man unclasps his hands, accepts the offering, and then sits holding it, still looking at the rolls. "He is," is noted for Arekoth. The dragon being up to his headknobs (or thereabouts) in beast gut. "I am... fine. Things are better now, overall." A bit of the bread is pinched and popped into his mouth, and H'kon uses the chewing as a reason to stall and find what to say. "And... yourselves?" Making conversation? New to him, one would think.
"We are glad to be home. It's good to return to the steady buzz of familiar business. Sleep in our own damn weyr." Immath seems to have settled down to a simple, steady gnaw on one of the bigger bones. Getting goop out of the spaces between her teeth. There is a space of quiet between riders. A heavy awkwardness that she, too, begins to feel. "Sorry, by the way. 'Bout my behaviour. Our first meeting, and all. I wasn't really myself. Think I'd rather you thought I were a little less bull-headed than that. Too much to ask?"
"I know Vanya was glad for a familiar bed as well," H'kon notes. As soon as he realises how it sounds, with Arekoth's help, if the brown's sudden lifting of his head is anything to go by, the man is picking at more of the roll. Yes. Awkward silence. The apology, then, comes as a surprise to him, and he turns to look at the greenrider next to him once more. Pale eyes are squinted, somewhat suspicious. "Right. Well, people do not go in my weyr." Then a mellowing of expression, a slight shifting of shoulders, and he's relaxed a touch. Not much. A little sigh is pushed out. "I... should not have hurried you out. In your condition. Is... it better, now?"
It did have a certain sound to it. Luckily for the man, the side of Tav's lip that curls into a small smirk is not visible. However, she does shift her eyes to the side, brows raising just enough. Mercifully, she does not comment. There is definitely something behind those sealed lips, but she does not let it out. Arekoth, however, may sense the slightest twinge of amuzement from the attentive green. "I will remember that, from now on. And be more respectful of it." She affirms, then her brows lift a little. There grows a slight smile on her lips and she slips her arm out of the warmth of her jacket. No leather covers it, this time. The twisting scars are unfriendly looking, but with the wiggling of her fingers and turning of her wrist, it does well to confirm her verbal reply. "Much. Works just about as good, 'cept on rare occasion. Thanks. Vanya gave me some stuff to help it the rest of the way." A pause. "So, we miss anything exciting?"
A certain smug amusement of his own might greet Immath's sentiment - but then Arekoth is once again distracted by the remaining meat. Not that there's much. The dragon eats messily, and with very little sense of pace. H'kon offers an appreciative nod to this proposed respect of (one of) his (many) boundaries. He puts nibbling at that bread and meat on hold, inspecting the movements and the scarring of that hand without even a hint of the squeamish. "I am certain you have heard the only exciting news I might have to tell. And I lack in details." H'kon is a man with little need for gossip.
"S'arright. If I wanted gossip I'd hang around the kitchens. Just news, is all. How were 'falls, how's the Weyr, anything interesting with the weyrlings.." She shrugs. A turning point has been past. One that sees Tavaly's shoulders more relaxed than they were before, and her manner a little more casual. Still somewhat formal, but definitely less rigid than militant, as it had began. "Hear we have us some graduates, don't we?"
"Ah. Falls have gone well enough. Injuries, yes, but no true bloodbaths." Threadfall is comfortable. Threadfall is something he knows and has in common with the other rider. Apart from Vanya. Meatroll is bitten, and he chews thoughtfully. Arekoth is also chewing, and the pair share a glance. "There are graduates, yes. You are in three-c? I have been told several have gone to yours." And Arekoth is done, and scanning the herd for another. << Ahah, >> is shared with Immath, just in case she wants to watch him in the hunt. He's certain to make his lift-off pretty. "From what I have seen, they are still quite... new. Best to be cautious."
"There are a few of them that I would expect to be a little better than 'new'. If they're not, then I'm going to have to take it up with their Wingleaders." Tav grumps then, brows knitting slightly. A glance at H'kon and the greenrider's expression softens, and she explains, "I took on a few while they were in their last months of weyrlinghood. Had Immath prep them for agility-flying. I just.. sincerely hope they didn't throw that into the wind the moment they were free of the Weyrlingmaster's grasp." Immath only half-watches the brown's take off. << Try the one with the big horns. >> She challenges.
"I do not doubt some will remember their training soon," H'kon notes, almost wryly. "We certainly drilled hard today." Eyes flutter, and he's looking after that airborne brown, who is circling around that one with the big horns. << This one? Hardly a problem. >> But Arekoth has taken the bite off his hunger, and certainly isn't above starting little stampedes for his own amusement before going for the kill. Swooping, playing. "You and Immath flew well enough, if I remember," is added absently. High praise, at least, as far as H'kon is concerned.
"Your Wingleader is a good one. A respectable man." Tav says solidly. She remembers. She followed him, once, as well. Before changes occurred, anyway. << You think so now. Wait until you get close to him. >> The green says, with a slight streak of smug amusement whistling through the cracks in her mind's bell. It's Tav's turn to be a little surprised. A compliment? Huh. "It's all her." Tav admits. "Just.. no stoppin' her, when she gets goin'. You wanna come do warmups early morning with me sometime? Arekoth looks like he could keep up right easy. Might be fun."
Arekoth gains a bit of altitude, allowing the herd to settle some, and eyeing up that big horned thing. That twisted left foreleg might be seen flexing in the air as he considers. H'kon is absently bending his left wrist in time to the dragon's motions. "Yes. He has done well," is said a bit belatedly for that wingleader comment. The other offer has him looking uncomfortable once more. The wrist action stops. And he's eating again, little plucked tidbits, proof that he's not yet truly hungry. Arekoth goes in for his first test-swoop, sizing up his prey, the big 'beast's reactions to attacks from above. He dodges a horn-accented head-toss, and gains altitude again. << He's no problem. >> H'kon is watching his lifemate. "I am certain we could keep up easily. So yes. Perhaps." Leave an escape route.
"If y'like. No obligation, of course." Tav says. There. That should help. The final few chews of Immath's meal are spat out into the pile and the green's long tongue swoops out to clear her maw of gore. Done, she is. No longer hungry. Which is a good enough signal to her rider. "It's been good speaking with you. Perhaps.. we should do it again, sometime." Unspecified date and time. More escape routes. Faranth forbid they become afternoon-tea partners. "Stay warm, arright?" Tav gathers her bowl and the - ah, it's a napkin tied into a back that the rolls were in - parcel and adjusts the heavy fur over her shoulders. "Give Vanya a snug for me when you see her."
H'kon knows enough to pick up when the end of a conversation is drawing near. There's a moment of fickering eyelids, and Arekoth is rather suddenly hurrying up his hunt. A careful dive has the horn'd beast in his talons, and he shakes the thing silly. Stay away from the head, break the neck, and voila. Kill number two. This is brought all too proudly back to where he previously was. The animal, twitching still, is let fall with a 'thud'. << No problem. >> He's good at what he does. "I... will. And we will look for you. One of these mornings, then." He doesn't do at all well at hiding the strangeness perceived in these invites and general friendliness. Still, Tavaly gets a nod of farewell before H'kon is settling again on the bench, and looking to finish those snack-gifts.
<< Expertly done. >> It's flat, but not without true congratulations. Immath is simply not in a very friendly mood. She's still tired. Poor Arekoth. The green is stuffing her pile into a quiet compost pile and then airborne effortlessly. Tav pauses once more to turn and smirk in a friendly manner at the brownrider, nods, and takes her leave of the feeding grounds.
Where: Feeding Grounds, HRW
When: Dinnerish, day 26, month 11, turn 3 of the 7th Pass.
What: IMMATH WANT FOOD. AREKOTH TOO. Oh, hey, look. H'kon and Tav interact and they don't walk away with bruises or sore egos. This time. YAY!
The dinner rush is just starting to grind into gear. For the Weyrfolk, that is. The bowl is slowly draining of people in favor of satiating their hungers with what the kitchens have prepared for sup. There are a few who go in early and depart with their choice suppers, however. And one of them sits under a small overhang at the outer skirts of the feeding grounds. A bowl of warm, hearty stew, a thick fur blanket about her shoulders, Tav sits patiently while the mammoth green, too, fills her gullet with something warm. Kind of like stew, only it was moving a lot more recently than the meat that Tav herself chews with each mouthful. She sits cross-legged on the wide bench, hands holding the bowl out, back against the solid wood. Immath chews. Slowly.
And then there are those who enjoy later lunches of leftover scraps and snacks, so as to avoid crowds at that time, and therefore are still not gnawed by hunger when the official supper hour hits. H'kon follows that routine, though original plans of hiding the rest of the day in his weyr were rather disrupted by Arekoth's complaint of an empty belly. It's for this reason the pair arrive, the biped clad in a winter jacket, hands shoving into his pockets no sooner than he and Arekoth have landed just in the bowl. The quadruped, for his part, prefers the sky to the ground, especially when the weather is cool, and it's an aerial approach toward the pens. Until Immath is spotted, and Arekoth feels it necessary to divert his course into a lazy circle, calling out a crooned hello to the green. H'kon pauses. And, counter to his regular behaviour, chooses to head toward an occupied bench. Go figure.
There is a pile in front of the green that becomes more visible as the brown approaches. Bones, skins, bits of meat that are just too gamey for her tastes, and.. well, whatever else is left of the two decimated herdbeasts she's already gone through. Whatever the green ate while away from the Weyr, it does not seem to have been that great, for she's eating like a cow, at the moment. The slowness on the third beast, however, is a good sign. There is a gurgling croon in reply, and a polite, << Greetings. >> That almost completely lacks color, the bird fluttering about her thoughts perched and still. The sight of the brown for the other rider has the spoon paused before Tav's lips, and her head turning toward the sound of footsteps. Oh, Shards. "Evenin'." She offers, instead of the swear that hoverd upon her lips. "We're almost done here. Won't get in your way."
"Evening," H'kon repeats back with a far more careful enunciation. << Do they taste good today? >> The brown has certainly noticed the pile of dead things before that green. His thoughts are far less still, threads weaving in and out in the formation of an idea of eating, not so much verbalised. Arekoth is hungry. Anyong tuned in ought to be able to feel that. << I'll be back. >> And he's in the air, not even bothering to terrify the herd beyond what is necessary for catching a fat one. "You are not in our way," H'kon notes, pushing his hands further into his pockets, shoulders rolling forward.
"Not anymore." The greenrider says softly. She has not looked at him fully, yet. Instead, she stares over the open mouth of the bowl she holds, spoon still hovering while stew slops off of the end and back to join the greater mass. << They are fat and full and warm. They are definitely good. >> Immath replies, strings of satisfaction steeling their way between her thoughts as she pulls the head off this third beast. << The biggest ones hide against the wall of the bowl, if you're interested. >> And because it is worth saying, and necessary, in her mind. "Sorry for keepin' her gone so long. Wasn't my intent."
Any puzzlement originally incurred by that first comment is swept away with the second. And the brownrider tilts his head in what almost may seem a gracious gesture. Eyes are squinted still, and there's certainly a guarded look to him, mouth pushed into a line when not in use, brow furrowed. His head stays tilted down, so he's looking more from beneath his eyebrows. Any of his habitual twitchings seem to have been smothered for the time, though. "Well you brought her back." Which is sort of like a 'thank you'. A glance to the bench. A glance to Tavaly. Head tilts to the side. Arekoth, for his part, has found his prey already, and hauls it to be near-ish Immath. << I hardly ever have trouble finding the big ones, >> is quite boasted. Wings rustle as they settle over his back, and he wastes no more time in getting that first and much-anticipated bite.
<< You have greater need of them than I do. I like the fast ones. >> The green replies. For all her warmth in previous conversations, this particular moment sees the green a cool and somewhat distracted chat-partner. Poor Arekoth. "Swore I would, even if it weren't t'you I swore. She's a good healer, and an even better friend. Wouldn't want her t'come to any harm." For all that she did to not put her smack dab in the middle of it, harr harr. "Seems t'me she thinks highly of you. Might have to reconsider the idea of ya I've got in my head. Any fella that can care for her and have her do so in return must be worth somethin'." A glance over at the man, and Tav catches the eye on the bench. "Well, siddown if y'want. My arse ain' takin' up the whole damn thing."
Arekoth turns his head to view the green out of one eye, a bit of meat hanging quite attractively (he'd like to think) out of his mouth. << The fast ones are good to make run. There's no taste to them, though. >> After the first beast, surely, there will be more effort on his part to get that lovely green talking. On the other end of things, H'kon is still looking awkward, of course. The compliment of sorts is turned away with a sidelong glance at nothing in particular. "Well I am grateful, if there is anything you did to keep her safe." And 'siddown' he does, right at the end of the bench, certain no to crowd Tavaly. His hands come out of his pockets so as to clasp together before him, for the time not minding the cold. Elbows rest on his knees. He looks straight forward. Awkward.
He has enough awkward for the both of them. Tav, however, is relaxed. Resolved. "Everythin' in my power. Luckily, didn' need to have to go beyond it. Went arright, up to the end. And we're home safe." The stew is picked at again. From the side of her not visible from where H'kon sits, she pulls a small meatroll-inside a buttered bread roll from her parcel and offers it over, holding it out to the man, still not looking directly at him. "He looks well. How're you doin'?" This is called making conversation, right? She tries.
"Yes, you are," H'kon agrees. Movement seen out of the corner of his eye has his head turning, and the food is eyed for a moment, much as a stray dog might carefully inspect an offered hand. The man unclasps his hands, accepts the offering, and then sits holding it, still looking at the rolls. "He is," is noted for Arekoth. The dragon being up to his headknobs (or thereabouts) in beast gut. "I am... fine. Things are better now, overall." A bit of the bread is pinched and popped into his mouth, and H'kon uses the chewing as a reason to stall and find what to say. "And... yourselves?" Making conversation? New to him, one would think.
"We are glad to be home. It's good to return to the steady buzz of familiar business. Sleep in our own damn weyr." Immath seems to have settled down to a simple, steady gnaw on one of the bigger bones. Getting goop out of the spaces between her teeth. There is a space of quiet between riders. A heavy awkwardness that she, too, begins to feel. "Sorry, by the way. 'Bout my behaviour. Our first meeting, and all. I wasn't really myself. Think I'd rather you thought I were a little less bull-headed than that. Too much to ask?"
"I know Vanya was glad for a familiar bed as well," H'kon notes. As soon as he realises how it sounds, with Arekoth's help, if the brown's sudden lifting of his head is anything to go by, the man is picking at more of the roll. Yes. Awkward silence. The apology, then, comes as a surprise to him, and he turns to look at the greenrider next to him once more. Pale eyes are squinted, somewhat suspicious. "Right. Well, people do not go in my weyr." Then a mellowing of expression, a slight shifting of shoulders, and he's relaxed a touch. Not much. A little sigh is pushed out. "I... should not have hurried you out. In your condition. Is... it better, now?"
It did have a certain sound to it. Luckily for the man, the side of Tav's lip that curls into a small smirk is not visible. However, she does shift her eyes to the side, brows raising just enough. Mercifully, she does not comment. There is definitely something behind those sealed lips, but she does not let it out. Arekoth, however, may sense the slightest twinge of amuzement from the attentive green. "I will remember that, from now on. And be more respectful of it." She affirms, then her brows lift a little. There grows a slight smile on her lips and she slips her arm out of the warmth of her jacket. No leather covers it, this time. The twisting scars are unfriendly looking, but with the wiggling of her fingers and turning of her wrist, it does well to confirm her verbal reply. "Much. Works just about as good, 'cept on rare occasion. Thanks. Vanya gave me some stuff to help it the rest of the way." A pause. "So, we miss anything exciting?"
A certain smug amusement of his own might greet Immath's sentiment - but then Arekoth is once again distracted by the remaining meat. Not that there's much. The dragon eats messily, and with very little sense of pace. H'kon offers an appreciative nod to this proposed respect of (one of) his (many) boundaries. He puts nibbling at that bread and meat on hold, inspecting the movements and the scarring of that hand without even a hint of the squeamish. "I am certain you have heard the only exciting news I might have to tell. And I lack in details." H'kon is a man with little need for gossip.
"S'arright. If I wanted gossip I'd hang around the kitchens. Just news, is all. How were 'falls, how's the Weyr, anything interesting with the weyrlings.." She shrugs. A turning point has been past. One that sees Tavaly's shoulders more relaxed than they were before, and her manner a little more casual. Still somewhat formal, but definitely less rigid than militant, as it had began. "Hear we have us some graduates, don't we?"
"Ah. Falls have gone well enough. Injuries, yes, but no true bloodbaths." Threadfall is comfortable. Threadfall is something he knows and has in common with the other rider. Apart from Vanya. Meatroll is bitten, and he chews thoughtfully. Arekoth is also chewing, and the pair share a glance. "There are graduates, yes. You are in three-c? I have been told several have gone to yours." And Arekoth is done, and scanning the herd for another. << Ahah, >> is shared with Immath, just in case she wants to watch him in the hunt. He's certain to make his lift-off pretty. "From what I have seen, they are still quite... new. Best to be cautious."
"There are a few of them that I would expect to be a little better than 'new'. If they're not, then I'm going to have to take it up with their Wingleaders." Tav grumps then, brows knitting slightly. A glance at H'kon and the greenrider's expression softens, and she explains, "I took on a few while they were in their last months of weyrlinghood. Had Immath prep them for agility-flying. I just.. sincerely hope they didn't throw that into the wind the moment they were free of the Weyrlingmaster's grasp." Immath only half-watches the brown's take off. << Try the one with the big horns. >> She challenges.
"I do not doubt some will remember their training soon," H'kon notes, almost wryly. "We certainly drilled hard today." Eyes flutter, and he's looking after that airborne brown, who is circling around that one with the big horns. << This one? Hardly a problem. >> But Arekoth has taken the bite off his hunger, and certainly isn't above starting little stampedes for his own amusement before going for the kill. Swooping, playing. "You and Immath flew well enough, if I remember," is added absently. High praise, at least, as far as H'kon is concerned.
"Your Wingleader is a good one. A respectable man." Tav says solidly. She remembers. She followed him, once, as well. Before changes occurred, anyway. << You think so now. Wait until you get close to him. >> The green says, with a slight streak of smug amusement whistling through the cracks in her mind's bell. It's Tav's turn to be a little surprised. A compliment? Huh. "It's all her." Tav admits. "Just.. no stoppin' her, when she gets goin'. You wanna come do warmups early morning with me sometime? Arekoth looks like he could keep up right easy. Might be fun."
Arekoth gains a bit of altitude, allowing the herd to settle some, and eyeing up that big horned thing. That twisted left foreleg might be seen flexing in the air as he considers. H'kon is absently bending his left wrist in time to the dragon's motions. "Yes. He has done well," is said a bit belatedly for that wingleader comment. The other offer has him looking uncomfortable once more. The wrist action stops. And he's eating again, little plucked tidbits, proof that he's not yet truly hungry. Arekoth goes in for his first test-swoop, sizing up his prey, the big 'beast's reactions to attacks from above. He dodges a horn-accented head-toss, and gains altitude again. << He's no problem. >> H'kon is watching his lifemate. "I am certain we could keep up easily. So yes. Perhaps." Leave an escape route.
"If y'like. No obligation, of course." Tav says. There. That should help. The final few chews of Immath's meal are spat out into the pile and the green's long tongue swoops out to clear her maw of gore. Done, she is. No longer hungry. Which is a good enough signal to her rider. "It's been good speaking with you. Perhaps.. we should do it again, sometime." Unspecified date and time. More escape routes. Faranth forbid they become afternoon-tea partners. "Stay warm, arright?" Tav gathers her bowl and the - ah, it's a napkin tied into a back that the rolls were in - parcel and adjusts the heavy fur over her shoulders. "Give Vanya a snug for me when you see her."
H'kon knows enough to pick up when the end of a conversation is drawing near. There's a moment of fickering eyelids, and Arekoth is rather suddenly hurrying up his hunt. A careful dive has the horn'd beast in his talons, and he shakes the thing silly. Stay away from the head, break the neck, and voila. Kill number two. This is brought all too proudly back to where he previously was. The animal, twitching still, is let fall with a 'thud'. << No problem. >> He's good at what he does. "I... will. And we will look for you. One of these mornings, then." He doesn't do at all well at hiding the strangeness perceived in these invites and general friendliness. Still, Tavaly gets a nod of farewell before H'kon is settling again on the bench, and looking to finish those snack-gifts.
<< Expertly done. >> It's flat, but not without true congratulations. Immath is simply not in a very friendly mood. She's still tired. Poor Arekoth. The green is stuffing her pile into a quiet compost pile and then airborne effortlessly. Tav pauses once more to turn and smirk in a friendly manner at the brownrider, nods, and takes her leave of the feeding grounds.