Hunting Lesson
Location: Feeding Pens
Time: Afternoon on Day 18, Month 7, Turn 3
Players: Peloth and Tialith
Scene: In which dragons gossip and innards get slurped.
The summer sun stretches out over stone and sand and herdbeast. It also glints off of a champagne golden hide as the senior queen sinks her teeth into her second kill of the afternoon. A pile of tidy and bloody bones is all that is left of the first and the squalling beast beneath Tialith's claws shrieks and goes still as she wrenches a bite of flesh from the poor creature's...well...it used to be a throat. Not so much, now.
Like her rider, High Reaches' newest gold goes where she will. Even if, perhaps, she has no business at all there. It is the nature of children, however, to see what they can get away with and so while her rider tends to whatever task her schedule requires, Peloth ventures forth into the great unknown. Peloth slinks, as if she might not be noticed if she keeps her head down. As if she could hide in the shadows as she braves a new place alone. It is towards the pen she heads, head swiveling to take it all in and finally, especially, the meal in progress. There is no speaking while there is observation to be done and sadly she missed the most interesting part. But she doesn't turn and leave just yet.
There is languid chewing and a tongue that laps out to lick at a bloody muzzle, the older queen's attention is all on her food and none on small slinking progeny creeping about the shadows. And yet as her head lowers to nose about and pull free some intestines, a thought twines out to curl itself around the newest of Reaches' golds. Little one, are you hungry? Does your rider not feed you properly?
The creeping comes to a stop once a head can be rested atop the fence that keeps beasts and dragons within separated from that without. Lightly, calmly, down goes Peloth's head to rest on worn wood. I have eaten. The answer comes slowly, as if considering must be done to determine if that means the same as not being hungry. Mine would not forget to feed me. I would remind her. Will you eat another?
There is a sort of slurpy squelching sound as entrails are sucked up rather like pasta. The advantage to telepathy is that one can so easily chew while they talk, and Tialith indulges in both as she reclines, tail flicking. If I am still hungry. Do you watch the others hunt, as well?
Peloth stretches out her wings and then pulls them back to settle against her. Her own tail flicks once and then stops. If you are still hungry I would watch. I wish to see how it is done. Mine says you watch to learn.
The senior gold angles her head just a wee bit to take another tug at herdbeast innards. The angle, coincidentally, allows more of a view of the younger queen. Your rider says a lot of things, she notes lazily as she chews. You may watch, if you like. Tialith is a benevolent dictator.
Her attention is consumed by watching the elder queen eat. That seems better. Without having been touched by others. Her head swivels to look around the pen as Peloth twitches the tip of her tail once, watching the animals now. Mine talks. But not the right way. She tries. Does it taste better? Better than. . .whatever.
Better than what? is Tialith's query as her own wings lift a little, shake, and resettle along her sides. I enjoy hunting. What is the right way to talk?
I could hunt. But I am not allowed to. I have to eat when I am fed. Which is when I am hungry, but it is not the same. Peloth sounds wistful at this as she turns away from the beasts and looks at the other queen. Better. Picking what you eat, right? That is better. She does not always talk right. She gets. . .hurt. So she must do it wrong.
Perhaps the ones she speaks to do it wrong, the older gold opines as she tugs a bone free and crunches down onto it, tongue snaking around to lave dangling bits of meat off the skeletal fragment. It is very nice to pick what I eat. You are not allowed to hunt because you cannot. A trickle of bemusement shivers from her thoughts to Peloth, but it calms enough that she can add, almost affectionately, But in time, you will.
Again her attention turns towards the beasts and Peloth watches them. That one is small. I could catch that one. It is dumber than I am. They are all dumber than I am. I just do not know how. Back to watching what is already caught rather than what might be. If I were taught. This is more important than problems in conversation that others have.
You will teach yourself. When it is time. No help from Tialith's corner, it seems. She noses the carcass (or what's left of it) about for a few moments before she flows into a stand, stretches, and turns her own gaze towards the cowed...cows.
Luckily for the younger queen she has a backup plan. Peloth accepts what is said without even blinking an eyelid. But she does watch as the carcass is nosed and then watches more intently when the older queen moves. Mine talks to yours. It is good. She might learn something.
Tialith is watching the herd. The herd knows it. This can be presumed because, at precisely the same moment, they scatter into panicked dashing as the gold pads calmly into their ranks, head down, tailtip twitching. They both might.
Ohh. This is how it is done. Peloth stretches her neck so it rests on the railing instead of her head. As if those few inches will impart wisdom to her in this matter. She misses her other one. With the cold hands. I do not so much like the cold hands. I like them warm. But she likes them.
Oh, comes the slightly distracted thought. Him. What happens next is quick. Wings press tightly against her sides as Tialith lunges in a motion so fast and practiced that it may be over before the would-be student has much of a chance to determine what happened. Then something is limp on the ground with the queen settled over it and the herdbeasts, detecting that their safety has just crept up a notch, reduce their panicking running to wary pacing.
Peloth devotes all of her attention to watching and likely still misses something. But she watches and pulls her neck back once the beast is dead. Is he a problem? If he is a problem I need to know so I can protect her. But I do not think he is. She is not concerned. And she can do no wrong. Or something. I could do that. But I am not hungry.
The little gold's proclaimed hunting prowess is not touched upon. There is something missing in him. Roa says he helped her, once. I do not know if he is a problem. Roa does not think so. Tialith's third herdbeast begins to get ingested much the same way as the first. If you are not hungry, then I will not offer you any.
Staring at the dead animal there is an earnest sort of quality to Peloth's words. I am not so hungry. I could eat. I can always eat. There is a shuffling to bring her closer towards the other dragon and her kill. If still on the other side of the rail. He is missing his. That is what she says. So I must be nice. Because he will be sad otherwise. If he is sad she will be sad. I will not make her sad.
The once-herdbeast is studied with faceted eyes before Tialith sinks her maw into a flank and tugs a bite (well, a bite for her) free. She stands again to move over to the fence and gently drops it down on the other side, near the little gold. It is perhaps a bit different from the meat Peloth has had so far. Not cut into pieces and still with some skin and hair attached. Sometimes that is harder than it seems. Not making one's rider sad.
She is not without manners and although there is a rising sort of excitement at something new, Peloth doesn't lunge for the meat when it is dropped. Instead she backs up a step and ducks her head down. Thank you. Then she drops her head to nose at the meat curiously. Nose, nudge, dirt joins blood and hair on the meat before turns her head this way and that to examine it. One talon sinks into the bite so she can hold it in place and tear off a smaller piece to eat. It is hard a lot. Does yours not listen to you? Mine does not always listen to me.
You are welcome. Tialith takes another moment to watch Peloth eat before she returns to her own portion of the herdbeast. She listens, but not every time. Which is a shame. Usually, I am right.
This new taste must be studied and examined and given its due. Peloth doesn't speak even though she could. She must test this new flavor. Yes. This is better. Then she goes about consuming the rest of her gift, no longer required to give it all her attention. Yes. I listen, but it is not always so easy the other way around. You are smart. It never hurts to flatter someone who might do you a good turn later.
Only, from Tialith's perspective, it is not so much flattery as a simple statement of truth. I know. Her own portion is only partially consumed before either the queen feels full or she gets some sort of order from her rider that makes her leave the rest of the food behind. She turns her attention to cleaning her muzzle and talons instead. Roa listens. But sometimes, she only hears what she wishes to.
Not so tidy, the younger of the pair. Why should she be when she can leave here and demand a bath? Peloth observes the cleaning with much less interest than she did the eating, but she does observe. I need to be older. That is all. Then she will listen. Once I am older. There is an abrupt sort of end to the thought. I told her not to talk to him for example. I am sure I did. I must go I think. She will be upset.
Then you must go. the older dragon allows as she works on a particularly sticky toenail. When you are older, she will be older too. We'll talk again, Peloth. Someday, -I- will watch -you- hunt.
Backing up from the fence, Peloth turns to leave, tail whipping out to smack a post in a deliberate fashion. Yes. I will learn a way and teach you. You will do it better from watching me. She manages to instill some sense of importance in her words. Importance that is belied by the way she slinks off with her tail dragging behind her. Slouching away.
For that pronouncement a swirl of emotion that can only be the psionic version of laughter trails after the departing goldling. The queen who sent it shows little outward sign, save that one eye is fixed quite openly on Peloth's retreat.
Time: Afternoon on Day 18, Month 7, Turn 3
Players: Peloth and Tialith
Scene: In which dragons gossip and innards get slurped.
The summer sun stretches out over stone and sand and herdbeast. It also glints off of a champagne golden hide as the senior queen sinks her teeth into her second kill of the afternoon. A pile of tidy and bloody bones is all that is left of the first and the squalling beast beneath Tialith's claws shrieks and goes still as she wrenches a bite of flesh from the poor creature's...well...it used to be a throat. Not so much, now.
Like her rider, High Reaches' newest gold goes where she will. Even if, perhaps, she has no business at all there. It is the nature of children, however, to see what they can get away with and so while her rider tends to whatever task her schedule requires, Peloth ventures forth into the great unknown. Peloth slinks, as if she might not be noticed if she keeps her head down. As if she could hide in the shadows as she braves a new place alone. It is towards the pen she heads, head swiveling to take it all in and finally, especially, the meal in progress. There is no speaking while there is observation to be done and sadly she missed the most interesting part. But she doesn't turn and leave just yet.
There is languid chewing and a tongue that laps out to lick at a bloody muzzle, the older queen's attention is all on her food and none on small slinking progeny creeping about the shadows. And yet as her head lowers to nose about and pull free some intestines, a thought twines out to curl itself around the newest of Reaches' golds. Little one, are you hungry? Does your rider not feed you properly?
The creeping comes to a stop once a head can be rested atop the fence that keeps beasts and dragons within separated from that without. Lightly, calmly, down goes Peloth's head to rest on worn wood. I have eaten. The answer comes slowly, as if considering must be done to determine if that means the same as not being hungry. Mine would not forget to feed me. I would remind her. Will you eat another?
There is a sort of slurpy squelching sound as entrails are sucked up rather like pasta. The advantage to telepathy is that one can so easily chew while they talk, and Tialith indulges in both as she reclines, tail flicking. If I am still hungry. Do you watch the others hunt, as well?
Peloth stretches out her wings and then pulls them back to settle against her. Her own tail flicks once and then stops. If you are still hungry I would watch. I wish to see how it is done. Mine says you watch to learn.
The senior gold angles her head just a wee bit to take another tug at herdbeast innards. The angle, coincidentally, allows more of a view of the younger queen. Your rider says a lot of things, she notes lazily as she chews. You may watch, if you like. Tialith is a benevolent dictator.
Her attention is consumed by watching the elder queen eat. That seems better. Without having been touched by others. Her head swivels to look around the pen as Peloth twitches the tip of her tail once, watching the animals now. Mine talks. But not the right way. She tries. Does it taste better? Better than. . .whatever.
Better than what? is Tialith's query as her own wings lift a little, shake, and resettle along her sides. I enjoy hunting. What is the right way to talk?
I could hunt. But I am not allowed to. I have to eat when I am fed. Which is when I am hungry, but it is not the same. Peloth sounds wistful at this as she turns away from the beasts and looks at the other queen. Better. Picking what you eat, right? That is better. She does not always talk right. She gets. . .hurt. So she must do it wrong.
Perhaps the ones she speaks to do it wrong, the older gold opines as she tugs a bone free and crunches down onto it, tongue snaking around to lave dangling bits of meat off the skeletal fragment. It is very nice to pick what I eat. You are not allowed to hunt because you cannot. A trickle of bemusement shivers from her thoughts to Peloth, but it calms enough that she can add, almost affectionately, But in time, you will.
Again her attention turns towards the beasts and Peloth watches them. That one is small. I could catch that one. It is dumber than I am. They are all dumber than I am. I just do not know how. Back to watching what is already caught rather than what might be. If I were taught. This is more important than problems in conversation that others have.
You will teach yourself. When it is time. No help from Tialith's corner, it seems. She noses the carcass (or what's left of it) about for a few moments before she flows into a stand, stretches, and turns her own gaze towards the cowed...cows.
Luckily for the younger queen she has a backup plan. Peloth accepts what is said without even blinking an eyelid. But she does watch as the carcass is nosed and then watches more intently when the older queen moves. Mine talks to yours. It is good. She might learn something.
Tialith is watching the herd. The herd knows it. This can be presumed because, at precisely the same moment, they scatter into panicked dashing as the gold pads calmly into their ranks, head down, tailtip twitching. They both might.
Ohh. This is how it is done. Peloth stretches her neck so it rests on the railing instead of her head. As if those few inches will impart wisdom to her in this matter. She misses her other one. With the cold hands. I do not so much like the cold hands. I like them warm. But she likes them.
Oh, comes the slightly distracted thought. Him. What happens next is quick. Wings press tightly against her sides as Tialith lunges in a motion so fast and practiced that it may be over before the would-be student has much of a chance to determine what happened. Then something is limp on the ground with the queen settled over it and the herdbeasts, detecting that their safety has just crept up a notch, reduce their panicking running to wary pacing.
Peloth devotes all of her attention to watching and likely still misses something. But she watches and pulls her neck back once the beast is dead. Is he a problem? If he is a problem I need to know so I can protect her. But I do not think he is. She is not concerned. And she can do no wrong. Or something. I could do that. But I am not hungry.
The little gold's proclaimed hunting prowess is not touched upon. There is something missing in him. Roa says he helped her, once. I do not know if he is a problem. Roa does not think so. Tialith's third herdbeast begins to get ingested much the same way as the first. If you are not hungry, then I will not offer you any.
Staring at the dead animal there is an earnest sort of quality to Peloth's words. I am not so hungry. I could eat. I can always eat. There is a shuffling to bring her closer towards the other dragon and her kill. If still on the other side of the rail. He is missing his. That is what she says. So I must be nice. Because he will be sad otherwise. If he is sad she will be sad. I will not make her sad.
The once-herdbeast is studied with faceted eyes before Tialith sinks her maw into a flank and tugs a bite (well, a bite for her) free. She stands again to move over to the fence and gently drops it down on the other side, near the little gold. It is perhaps a bit different from the meat Peloth has had so far. Not cut into pieces and still with some skin and hair attached. Sometimes that is harder than it seems. Not making one's rider sad.
She is not without manners and although there is a rising sort of excitement at something new, Peloth doesn't lunge for the meat when it is dropped. Instead she backs up a step and ducks her head down. Thank you. Then she drops her head to nose at the meat curiously. Nose, nudge, dirt joins blood and hair on the meat before turns her head this way and that to examine it. One talon sinks into the bite so she can hold it in place and tear off a smaller piece to eat. It is hard a lot. Does yours not listen to you? Mine does not always listen to me.
You are welcome. Tialith takes another moment to watch Peloth eat before she returns to her own portion of the herdbeast. She listens, but not every time. Which is a shame. Usually, I am right.
This new taste must be studied and examined and given its due. Peloth doesn't speak even though she could. She must test this new flavor. Yes. This is better. Then she goes about consuming the rest of her gift, no longer required to give it all her attention. Yes. I listen, but it is not always so easy the other way around. You are smart. It never hurts to flatter someone who might do you a good turn later.
Only, from Tialith's perspective, it is not so much flattery as a simple statement of truth. I know. Her own portion is only partially consumed before either the queen feels full or she gets some sort of order from her rider that makes her leave the rest of the food behind. She turns her attention to cleaning her muzzle and talons instead. Roa listens. But sometimes, she only hears what she wishes to.
Not so tidy, the younger of the pair. Why should she be when she can leave here and demand a bath? Peloth observes the cleaning with much less interest than she did the eating, but she does observe. I need to be older. That is all. Then she will listen. Once I am older. There is an abrupt sort of end to the thought. I told her not to talk to him for example. I am sure I did. I must go I think. She will be upset.
Then you must go. the older dragon allows as she works on a particularly sticky toenail. When you are older, she will be older too. We'll talk again, Peloth. Someday, -I- will watch -you- hunt.
Backing up from the fence, Peloth turns to leave, tail whipping out to smack a post in a deliberate fashion. Yes. I will learn a way and teach you. You will do it better from watching me. She manages to instill some sense of importance in her words. Importance that is belied by the way she slinks off with her tail dragging behind her. Slouching away.
For that pronouncement a swirl of emotion that can only be the psionic version of laughter trails after the departing goldling. The queen who sent it shows little outward sign, save that one eye is fixed quite openly on Peloth's retreat.