In which Nalaieth plays with her food, but fails at the hunt
Ista weyr Corrals, 11-6-05
Nolee, G'tive, Cynara, M'yr
Your location's current time: 19:34 on day 1, month 6, Turn 55, of the Tenth Pass. It is a summer evening.
The wet season oppresses the island with high humidity and sweltering temperatures.
Ista Weyr Corral
The reddish light of the evening sun shines across the bay visible over the western fence and the green field of the Plateau. Roughly one-fourth the size of the bowl itself, herdbeasts are huddled trying to find whatever shade they can. A large grassy field to the western side of the corral bridges both side of the fence there. Beyond the fence, a large plateau can be found, looking off over the bay. Large troughs for water sit near the stables. The Bowl to the east is illuminated with the golden glow of sunset as it comes alive with the evening activity.
Evening brings the usual red sunset across the bowl and over the corrals, casting long shadows over the beasts gathered therein. Nalaieth weaves back and forth through the frantic herd of stampeding beasts, delighting in the riot she's creating and not realizing if she's disrupting anyone else's attempt to square down a meal. Nolee's standing off to the side near the water troughs, refilling them after a yellowy dragonet knocked into them and spilled out most of the liquid.
M'yr walks over from the bowl with Soldreth behind, pausing just shy of the fence to chuckle at Nala's efforts. "Well, no one said she wasn't spunky." he notes then waves to Nolee, continuing forward while Sol warbles - not that Nala would hear his call, what with all the hooves pounding and such.
Cynara shakes her head from the edge of the corrals. "I'm glad Marsath already ate...you're going to run all the meat off the herd, Nalaieth," she points out in a less-than-serious tone.
G'tive emerges from the stables, dusting his hands off on his pants, he looks pleased and relaxed even though hay seems to have worked it's way into most of his clothes and his hair. Feed trickles out of his pockets as his hands attempt to work bits of grime off onto his trousers. Cansoth is curled up out of the way of the running beasts and chasing gold, he's either really snoozing or just feigning.
Nolee looks up from her bucket, aiming to wave to M'yr and to see what kind of trouble Nala's in now, but in the process she succeeds in spilling water all over her feet. It takes a moment to permeate her improved thicker and closed-toe shoes, but when it does, she frowns sourly. "It keeps her busy, at least. Then she's sleepy enough after to hopefully buy me a good nap. Hey, G'tive, look out or you'll lure the little ones out here with the snack trail." Nalaieth continues playing chase, segregating a group and rumbling at them threateningly.
M'yr agrees, nodding to Cynara, though his comment is for Nolee. "I recall hearing that if the herd is spooked they get out of sorts and go off their feed, and you know what that means. They all get so thin, we have to listen to draconic complaints of not enough food." He grins then turns toward the approaching Gus. "Now who have you been rolling in the hay with? Hmm?" His grin widens, then he winks. "Do tell us her - or their - name?"
Looking down, G'tive notices the trail of feed behind him with a laugh. "Oops, forgot I had that tucked away, always kept some in my pockets when I was a stablehand." Reaching deep, he pulls out the rest of the feed from his pockets and tosses it into the stables, dusting off his hands once again. He rolls his eyes with a wry grin over to M'yr. "Oh, just a filly named Canny. She was foaled a sevenday ago and I hadn't gotten to meet her yet."
Nolee's eyes widen, first at the idea that the other dragons are getting thin (a sneaking glance at Marsath is inserted here), and second at the mention of Gus in the hay. "We're not supposed to do that!" she chastises. Nalaieth pays her rider no mind, hissing at two of the herd until they low in fear and complaint. One breaks free, and in his effort to escape, trips on her tail. That interrupts Nala's dinner plan, and she croons her unhappiness as she approaches the gate.
M'yr chuckles, a smirk given to Gus, along with a brow wiggle. "Yeah, no rolling in the hay until we're told we can, Gus. You of all people should know that's not on our list of to-dos. I'll not tell. Or maybe we all won't tell, if you offer us something to keep our mouths shut." He looks to Cynara and Nolee, trying not to laugh.
Cynara laughs. "No, we're not, but...baby runners are, I suppose, safe...you /own/ runners, G'tive, or just a mare you liked?" She glances towards the stables, then wanders over to her sleeping dragon and hops up onto his foreleg neatly.
Nolee moves toward Nalaieth, running her fingers over the bumped spot of her tail. "You're good at that, putting your long back end right in the way," she soothes, then shakes her head, starting toward the infirmary areas. "Safe? The baby ones drool and make messes. And yes, we'd love something to keep quiet. Some stretchy candy, especially. Or an extra bit of sleep." The pair start to move off, Nala nudging Nolee along. "Guess we're not eating after all."