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Harper's Tale 2 - Monday, April 08, 2002, 9:47 PM Weyrling Barracks Fyria is literally shoved out of her couch by a curious viyali streaked muzzle, a hungry one at that. "Ok/ay/, I'm /out/...shells and shards.." Urzketh burbles a bit as he follows, nudging her again. "Faranth, I feel like I just fed him a candlemark ago." Fy gives Olia and Roherith a quick wave as she heads towards one of the outer tables, procuring bowl, knife, and huge slab of meat. "How're you two doing?" Roherith is sprawled out, his head resting on Olia's legs, first set of eyelids closed, his breathing deep and sleepy. Nothing to do but lounge with his Precious, now. Zia comes out of Diulnyth's couch. Wyn emerges from her couch with an easy stretch, strolling over to a politely waiting Vorkoroth with a bemused smile. "You know, I'm quite proud that you've discovered how to waken me with thoughts alone, love, but I believe you need to work on volume control a little." A demur of rumbling is her reply, and the pocket sized blue offers another polite little rumble in the direction of the meat. "Hello," greets Wyn to her clutchmates, nudged along by the odd bunt at her calves, a bit of lordly direction. Olia idly scritches around Roherith's headnobs and nods. "Good. Finally." Thankfully, her words also seem to imply as her other hand runs through her hair, untangling a few knots and pulling at others. "I feel like a bit of a mess, but I'm ... good." She smiles down at Ro, once again her tone hinting at a left out word. Better than good, most likely. Urzketh whiffles at his clutchsibs, settling nicely by Fyria as he watches her prepare the one thing currently on his dragonet mind: meat. Preferably raw. Fy glances up, pausing mid-slice to give Wyn a smile and nod. "Mornin', or evenin', or whatever time it is," she says with a perk. Dropping back into her rhythm *slice slice slice*, she can't help but laugh aloud. "Urk, love...let me chop these up. We don't want any purging acc---uh, purging is.." Urzketh flips one set of eyelids, turns to look at his tail, and snorts in derision. Like /he'd/ do anything like that. Jiu meanders into the barracks proper from Tsulryth's Labyrinth. Roherith thrums contently, flickering his wings up a bit before tucking them down again, if just to announce his presence to the others, eyes swirling peacefully. His clutchmates are watched, nostrils flaring a bit. But he's perfect at this moment.. Except.. oh.. his tail twitches. Perhaps the brown should go Questing for something for his Precious to see. "Call it afternoon, and split the difference," decides Miralwyn,
with a dryly amused look. Impression changes many things, but not, apparently,
the sense of humour of a certain ex-Healer. Another polite rumble from Vorkoroth.
The Vor have more manners than to whine, but we must keep moving, dear! Another
quiet laugh, and she, too, begins methodically cutting meat. "So... have
any of you been getting little suggestions during feeding that raw meat is
really preferable to cooked, or is that simply a Vorkoroth Thing?" Zia has disconnected. "Absolutely, Wyn. I even mention the idea of meat near fire, and I get a quizzical...um...thought?" That's the best way Fyria can verbally define Urzketh's mindtouch, though she has an inkling they all know what she's talking about. "What about you, Olia? Roherith have any thoughts on oh I know, I know...you're going to get meat ok--" Fy blinks, blushes a lovely shade of rose, and giggles impishly. "Sorry...I still do that occasionally." Olia glances down at her lifemate with something akin to suspicion on her face. She caught the tail flick, and things have been too peaceful. "Still do what? Talk out loud?" She shrugs. "Me too. Most of the time. It just makes more sense to me right now." But back to the first unfinished question. "I--" A pause. A giggle. "Roherith doesn't know why anyone would want to cook food." <Local> Vorkoroth senses that Urzketh hints at impatience with a tornado of violet and indigo, sifted with foxfire's glow along it's edges. << She's so slooooowwww....faster, faster! >> The tornado picks up speed...then is suddenly gone in a puff of blue. << I hope she doesn't cook it... >> "Oh shells.." Tevya begins to complain, before, "Alright then..I meant to say that I'm not in agreement. I mean..really? You want me to /what/?" Tevya responds, glancing up towards her lifemate. The blue responds with a nose pushed alongside the couch, then tilting it sheepishly to the side. "Shells! Yes I mean it.. I can't do that. That's just.. No! No you wont!" And then Kihaelth is sliding off the couch, ambling towards the other side of the room. Wyn, whose hands have been busily cubing meat under the hooded Auditor's Gaze of a certain pocketsized blue, offers a dry smile. "Oh, Vorkoroth has somewhat puzzled out /why/ humans prefer their food cooked," she reveals. "He would just prefer it that I try my meat raw, since it's clearly the best way to eat meat." A purry rumble abruptly jumps to a lovely upper-crust snort. "Oh yes you did /too/ say so," reassures Wyn, aloud for the benefit of the human listeners, beginning to feed the cubes of meat at a judicious rate. <Local> Vorkoroth senses that Roherith is musty-confused, but jingles lightly, amused, << Perhaps she will, and then you will have to wait longer. Precious says it's less messy. What's the point?>> Olia looks perplexed. "But you're different. I don't eat like you do," she says to Roherith, shaking her head and looking around for answers. The former baker shrugs. "It's...it..." Her hands leave off scritching and other attentions to raise up and flail helplessly. "It's food. And you can make new combinations of things if you put flame to it. So it tastes better. And has different flavors." There. <Local> Vorkoroth senses that Kihaelth says, << Trundlebugs! We've got to hunt them. >> A confident statement that seems to come out of no where, which is soon followed by a vivid picture of exactly what one looks like, << Now. >> Yes he meant /now/. << It's our duty. >> And that's all he has to say on that. Fyria chuckles as she turns, bowl in hand, and settles on a cushion. Urzketh slinks over towards her, a shadow moving upon the ground, said shadow resting his head near her and crooning with anticipation. "C'mere, silly. And /don't/ eat too fast, and /chew/ your food, please." The last thing she needs is to see Urk with a thick tail. "I think it's going to be rather amusing when they first learn how to hunt." Urzketh perks at this, and suddenly crouches into stalk-mode, eyes whirling as his tail lashes silently. Fyria just laughs. Roherith snorts, righting himself to watch Urzketh and his rider, curiousity evident in the whirling of his eyes. Distracting, however, is that /bottle/ on the shelf over there, and then a scurry over in the corner. He'd leap in that direction, if he were prepared to leap. Instead, the brown slinks like a hunter after his prey. A trundlebug! Of course. <Local> Vorkoroth senses that he offers a rich reply of darker blues and purples. <<Humans cannot flame,>> he reveals in perfect sincerity. <<Therefore, they prefer their food flamed.>> Conviction colours the tone, regardless of the nonsense content of the words. Attention wanders over to Kihaeleth then. <<There is no sense in hunting trundlebugs on an empty stomach. Half-fed troops make rotten soldiers.>> And with that, his thoughts turn a lovely rich red, tinged with thoughts of meat and blood. <Local> Vorkoroth senses that Urzketh's voice smoothes and rolls like the waves of a crystalline sea, hunger finally being satiated. << Yes. Raw. Better. Even if it Fyrrrrria does feed me too slo----hunt! Hunt! Where!>> A sudden tingling of sharp spiciness tickles the links as the colours turn razor-sharp, focused to a searing intensity of blue fire. << Hunt hunt hunt.... >> "No..no trundlebugs." Tevya responds shaking her head. "Where'd he get the idea of Trundlebugs? Those things are.." A pause as she glances at Kihaelth, "Right. They're dirty creatures." To which her blue responds with a soft rumble. If anything, he'd just been encouraged. And the blue turns tail to begin a standard permiter search. Left..left..left..right..left. <Local> Vorkoroth senses that Kihaelth is adimant..that much is sure. << Trundlebugs first. Eat later. This just isn't job.>> A soft response at that, before Kihaelth continues, << Two go that way, I'll take that..wall there. >> Mental images correspond with his thoughts, and then he is silent once more. Olia blinks as her warm legs are suddenly uncovered and less weighty, and she thinks to catch sight of the brown before he's off and gone. "Roherith?" she says, sitting up and opening her eyes a bit wider. They quickly narrow again, however, and she pulls her hair back from her face. She eyes the other weyrlings. "What are they up to now?" Pause. "Did someone say trundlebugs?" Wyn snorts, a sound matched with eerie precision by Vorkoroth as the blue and bluerider ignore the pursuit of trundlebugs in favour of a meal. "Good Faranth, don't let them distract him, please?" she inquires of the other weyrlings. "You have /no/ idea how hard it is to get him focused on food long enough to eat." <Local> Vorkoroth senses that Roherith nearly prances mentally with giddyness, whispering, << We're going to get them all. I had the good sense to eat earlier. Now I hunt. >> Russety brown sneaks in a mysterious tone, tenor continuing merrily, << The food will not move. The trundlebugs will, and then we will have to find them again. >> There does seem to be a huge amount of them, however. Urzketh decides he's had enough to eat...things are starting to look rightly interesting. With a flick of his obsidian tail-tip, he slinks over to join Kihaelth and Roherith a moment, then stalks off as something else catches his rapidly whirling eye. Trundlebugs may be fast, but he's /sure/ that he's faster. Okay, so he might not be coordinated quite yet, but he's still fast! Kihaelth moves throughout the barracks, nose planted to the ground, green eyes whirling fast as he tries to spot the infamous Trundlebugs. Behind him his tail is held stock-still, not even a flicker or flinch to it. Every nook and cranny is searched, even his own couch. And still, the blue is determined to find his trundlebug. <Local> Vorkoroth senses that he offers a prim snort. <<My Wyn informs me that I am to eat first. I shall not disobey the wishes of my lady.>> His attention /does/ stray over towards the trundlebugs, though. Perhaps a trifle longingly? <<Has any progress been made in determining their base of operations?>> Fyria protests, a futile attempt, as Urzketh decides that he'd like to join in the Hunt-The-Trundlebugs game his clutchsibs are currently engaged in. "Feh. Well, this won't be going anywhere, at least," she says pertly, and deposits the bowl on the table next to a knife. Now, to feed herself. "Well, one thing's for sure. We can be officiously guaranteed that the barracks shall remain, bug-free." Who ya gonna call? Trundle-busters! Olia shrugs helplessly at Wyn and shakes her head. "Roherith seems determined to do...whatever it is.. Ro, what /are/ you going to do with them once you've found them?" She scoots forward in her chair, leaning out with her hands on the armrests as if trying to get a better look without having to stand up. She casts a nervous glance at Fyria. "Is that all? They'll just squish them?" <Local> Vorkoroth senses that Kihaelth gives a mental shake of his head. The equivalent of grass rustling on bare prairy grounds. << No. But I am close. >> Mental stalking continues, Kihaelth always adding some form of color. For now he choses a pale blue. << Very close. I smell them. >> Wyn gives Vorkoroth a proud smile as he decides to heed her advising, continuing to feed chunks of meat with a methodical precision. "Vorkoroth," she intones. "Is being sensible for once, and waiting until he's fed. I admit to being amazed... Food is usually the last thing on his list." Roherith slinks, now, wings fluttering out, eyes on a pair of trundelbugs moving slowy toward the underside of a sleeping rider's cot. It's his job to get these, it is, and deposit them in interesting places, or perhaps squish them. The lithe, thin brown keeps close to the ground, nostrils twitching. He's close, he is. <Local> Vorkoroth senses that Urzketh's thoughts slither along a darkened road, following the silvery line down the center that shall inevitably lead to a trundlebug. << It's here. They're here. Somewhere, yes? >> One pentadactyl claw in front of the other, he lurks. Urk lurks. Ha. << Oooo!! There, there!! By you Kihaelth! >> Tevya stares..helplessly after Kihaelth. "Oh fardles. He's going to get himself into something awful. I just know it." Head is shaken before Tevya joins Fyria and Wyn, while watching Kihaelth continue his stalking. "He's..rather determined though.." Olia settles back again so she can snort properly at Wyn. "Food, last? For Roherith, it's second only to a good oiling, I think." She eyes one of these vats with what one might call loathing. Evil. Pure, shiny, slick evil. Another glance is cast Roherith's way. <Local> Vorkoroth senses that Roherith lets a bit of sunlight filter down into the forest of his thoughts, orienting on those elusive bugs. << I've found some as well. We must make sure to get them all. >> His tone rings important, but still hushed, as though the trundlebugs might be listening in at any moment. <Local> Vorkoroth senses that Kihaelth triumphantly flashes a picture of a trundlebug. << Here. >> His first response is tinged with golden rays, << And there. >> A switch to an area of the barracks as he then says, << Trundlebugs. >> Wyn smiles and offers a fond scratch to the Eyes of Horus marking the border between Vorkoroth's head and neck, resulting in a throaty croon, and the half lidding of hooded eyes. "Oiling... yes, Vor is meticulous about his oiling. The fact that he already /looks/ oiled means nothing to him, apparently," she drawls, feeding more meat. "But he's really far more interested in those trundlebugs than he lets on, I believe. Although don't tell your lifemates that." she winks. Fyria giggles agreement with Tevya, fingers drumming lightly on one arm as they lie crossed upon her chest. "No joke. Oh shells, there they go..." she murmurs, amusedly watching the dragonets as they succeed in finding prey. Woe to any trundlebugs that dare enter these barracks. One way ticket to trundlebug heaven. <Local> Vorkoroth senses that Urzketh mentally cheers, quickly scuttling over next to Kihaelth and Roherith with a clatter of talons on the floor. << Success!! Quick little buggers, but they're /ours/ now....>> Buggers? He's been picking up on Fyria's lingo again. An eruption of violet-strewn darkness shoots across his mind, overflowing down towards the others in a riotous burst. << I wonder what they taste like... >> <Local> Vorkoroth senses that Kihaelth 's mind tingles with curiosity. << They are the enemy. Hostile trudlebugs. We must destroy them.>> Confident about that, << Or we must relocate them. Be nice?>> A question that he gives no one a chance to answer, << We must destroy them. They are the enemy.>> Jiu has disconnected. <Local> Vorkoroth senses that he offers a quiet grey caution. <<Do not destroy them, straight off. See what intelligence may be gained from them. Obviously they communicate with their fellows somehow, in order to keep sending reinforcements...>> Well, obvious if you're Vorkoroth, after all. A trundlebug fearlessly trundles towards the middle of the room and pauses, waving all four little legs rather defiantly. Ignore the chain of 3 baby trundlebugs attached to it's arse. It's trying to look fierce! <Local> Vorkoroth senses that Kihaelth agrees with Vorkoroth, <<We must do that. Then we destroy them. Or we can keep them to study them. >> A faint twinge of thought at that, before Kihaelth is running the possibilities through his mind. A flash of twilight streaks rather quietly across the room as Kihaelth spots the trundlebug. A soft croon is given to Tevya as he inserts himself infront of her, wrapping a still growing tail around her ankles. "No they won't hurt me Kiha. I'm perfectly fine." Wyn chuckles as Vorkoroth turns from his eating to give an offended snort at a trundlebug erring too near towards her toes. "Thank you, Vor," she intones gravely, giving a pat. "Most noble of you. And just a few more pieces of meat, then a bath, then an oiling, and then you can go plot the downfall of trundlebugs as you please." Urzketh was never really one to think before acting. Not at this age, anyways. Thus, with a glimmer of amethyst-laced wings, he zips towards the offending trundlebug(s). Of course, learning the mechanics of /stopping/ has never crossed his sensory-overloaded draconic mind, and with a creel he manages not to crash into the opposing wall, but does succeed in sending the trundlebug(s) flying towards Vorkoroth. Oops. As for Kihaelth, the blue will find his needs in protecting Tevya of course. That wont stop him from batting a trundlebug should it come to near. Urzketh and Vorkoroth are watched as the little blue stands back. He'd just let them do the dirty work. He'd direct. <Local> Vorkoroth senses that Urzketh mentally darkens a moment, preparing to attack the trundlebugs without further delay. A flare of intense sparkfire, and he's off...and suddenly realizes, he can't. Quite. Stop. << Haha. /Mine/. Growwlllll...hey. Hey. HEY!!!>> Scrabbling quickly, his thoughts explode into a kaleidescope of blue. << Ee! Close one.>> Vorkoroth offers a single snort, a trumpet sound as the Vor warrior moves onto the attack. The trundlebugs shall not touch his Wyn! A rustle of wingsail, and he intercepts the flying 'bugs, redirecting them towards Kihaelth with a satisfied rumble-purr. Now there'd be a HEY! if Kihaelth could do such a thing. As it is, the Trundlebugs are Enemy number 1, and Kihaelth will do what he can to squish them. And that includes..squishing them. With a small snort, he'll send his tail towards them, more or less in an attempt to get them /away/ from Tevya. She needed protecting afterall. Fyria gasps as Urzketh almost goes careening into a wall. "Great Faranth! Careful, Urk!!" One hand flies to her mouth as her eyes widen, although deep down, she's finding this quite hilarious. Of course, if this is any indication of his potentially erratic flying habits...oy. Luckily, Fy's got a strong stomach. And Wyn? Wyn just stands against the wall and watches the volleys of trundlebugs being lobbed. "You know," she ponders. "If those dratted bugs did not emit such unpleasant odours, they might make a rather amusing toy." The trundlebug would shriek if it had vocal cords as it goes flying through the air. Look ma! I can fly!! "That's a big If, Wyn," Tevya responds dryly, watching as Kihaelth sends trundlebugs flying. "Oh..yes. Quite lovely Kiha." Shaking her head in amusement, Tevya folds her arms across her stomach while leaning against the wall. Funny stuff this was. Urzketh gathers as much dignity as he possibly can, rambling over back towards Fyria. Of course, it'd help if he knew what dignity was. Instead, he tries to look all alpha-maleish, rumbling low in his throat as his slippery black-ish tail wraps possessively around Fyria. Nope. That whole nearly-collided-with-a-wall bit didn't just happen. Nope nope. Fyria just eyerolls, and submits to being drowned in a sea of Urzketh-blue. Quite happily, but only Urk knows that. |