Hunting for a Few

Xanadu Weyr - Feeding Grounds

A large portion of the eastern edge of the meadow has been fenced off, the corralling on three sides is located on the rolling meadow, while the fourth is located a short way up on the eastern hills. Within the large corral are a variety of beasts - ovines, bovines, and wherries - milling around, though the appearance of a dragon may send them one way or the other to try and escape. A small pond is set near one corner of the enclosure, and at times it reflects the low, bordering mountains.

Rukbat lingers high overhead, but the air still holds the chill of early spring and a biting breeze that hints at perhaps snow to come. In the corral, M'nol is pulling the gate shut on the half-corral that comes out only for weyrling lessons on the six or so young beasts that have been selected for the first hunting lesson. All on the smaller side, they should be safe for the young dragons to hunt, not that Faraeth isn't hovering nearby to intervene if necessary for some of the smaller dragons even as he sends out a strong mental call in his lilac-scented, silken way, « It is time to eat. The food awaits you at the grounds today. Soon, yours will no longer need to kill it for you. »

Alosynth is also standing nearby, she may not be as big as the brown, but she's a lot quicker and can manuever much easier. Keziah herself is also nearby. She's quiet, for the moment at least and perhaps more quiet than she has been. But then that could be beause she has a clipboard and seems to be standing by to take some notes. Hmm…

Malphath warbles a greeting to Faraeth and Alosynth as he proceeds onto the hunting grounds ahead of his lifemate. P'rel yawns, despite the time of day and lifts his head as he comes into view past the bronze's bulk. He shields his eyes from the sun, frowns slightly and then continues walking towards where the other weyrlings are gathered. The blond bronzerider's nose crinkles for some reason around the time that Faraeth's mindvoice flutters in flowery petals over Malphath. Still, the boy pats his beast on the flank, "You'll show them, won't you Mal?" he half-smirks, getting a deep rumble of agreement in return.

I'srie and Tscyleth follow not far behind Malphath and P'rel, the young bluepair walking close together with Iess' shoulder occasionally brushing his lifemate's. The boy is clad entirely in blacks, jacket snug against the chill, scarf wrapped loosely about his shoulders. Here and there are touches of light grey upon his clothing, edging cuffs and collar and a stripe down the outside of his pantlegs, and the lacings of his boots. Pondwater-blue eyes are drawn to the half-corral where the small beasts have been penned, Tscy's head canting slightly to observe the creatures as they approach. Iess tugs hands from his pockets briefly to salyute the AWLMs, Tscy dipping his head in polite acknowlegement of their dragons, the pair moving to join the other weyrlings.

M'nol can't resist the slight smile that appears on his face at the physical closeness of the blue pair. He and Faraeth were much the same at that age. His eyes slide to Keziah, the previous night's conversation all to fresh on his mind as he takes a moment to greet her before returning I'srie's salute crisply, "Welcome, Weyrlings." He grins at the pair, then frowns as only a couple more appear, "I suppose I will have to impress upon some of your fellows the importance of attending lessons on time." Faraeth croons gently, clearly exhorting his bond not to worry so and giving M'nol a moment of pause before he continues, "Well, for those of you who /are/ here, it's time for your first hunt." The half-sly grin returns, "Though your dragons can't fly yet, they can run and jump, which is all they need to hunt their own food. You'll go one at a time. Only your dragon will enter the corral." He indicates the smaller one of smaller beasts, "Isolate the beast of his or her choice, and bring it down. I recommend letting their instincts take course, but keep careful watch. We don't want any trampled dragons, now do we? Alo and Farry will be on alert in case something goes wrong." He looks between the two weyrlings, Faraeth's favorite and the blue who's actually respectful most of the time. He glances up at Faraeth, then back, "I'srie, have Tscyleth make the first attempt. If he tires or you feel he needs to take a break and try again, we'll switch to P'rel and so on through the group until every dragon's brought down a beast."

Keziah turns her attention to the weyrlings that file in. Least this group is doing well with splitting up and not making an entire destruction of the corrals, even if it is at the expense of not showing up. Still, one never knows with weyrling dragons. She carefully counts the critters inside and makes a few notations. She gives said weyrlings a nod and leans back against Alosynth. She does arch a brow at M'nol. "Sleep well?" she asks with a sweet smile. Hmmms, trampled dragons "Be more like flattened beasts." she murmurs under her breath. "And please, try not to have them run the beasts through the fencing." she says in an almost weary tone.

P'rel glances behind at I'srie and Tscyleth, but golden hues doesn't linger that long upon the blueriding pair. Instead he returns his attention to the weyrlingmasters, arms crossing over his chest. Though after a moment or two the always crimson eyes of his lifemate turn back to regard the bronzerider. Brows furrow, and the blond snaps off a belated salute. A snort from the bronze follows before his gaze settles back on the those giving the lesson. There is a nod from P'rel for the instructions given and the bronzeling pair reposition themselves to make space for I'srie and Tscyleth to take up the first attempt position.

I'srie and Tscyleth turn their attention to the AWLMs, the boy returning hands to pockets, though his tendency to slouch seems to have disappeared as both he and his blue adopt an alert sort of posture, Tscy's wings tucked neatly in, head tilting in ponderous manner as they're told he'll be going first. Iess wets his lips, and glances sidelong at his lifemate, whatever passing between them done silently. A brow is arched at the blue, and then there's simply a nod for M'nol, Iess stepping forward near Mal and P'rel while his dragon moves fluidly toward the pens, leaping the fence in one flowing motion. Once within, the panicky beasts are watched with keen interest as Tscyleth takes his time and slowly circles, carefully picking a target and letting the animals tire themselves even as he gradually closes in on them. I'srie's lips twitch upward on one side, just briefly, possibly in response to something from his lifemate, his own shoulders slightly tensing as the blue gathers himself suddenly and - pounce! There's a sickening sort of crunching sound as front claws hook into and drive one of the smaller beasts to the ground just as it passes, the blue's head coming down after a second to silence the struggling creature with a quick snap to its neck. Its not a pretty sight, but it's at least marginally efficient, Iess swallowing and briefly averting his eyes with a grimace despite another twitch of a smirk in his expression.

M'nol smiles gently as he watches the tableau. Quick. Humane. Simple. A blessing for the blue's rider, really, "Don't worry, I'srie. It may take a few times before you stop tasting the food, but that's a matter of practice. He did very well." Faraeth rumbles his agreement there, an approving waft of fresh lilac scent is shared to the blue as M'nol continues, "You should cherish his efficiency. Many dragons are very messy eaters. Now coax him to take it out of the corral so P'rel can have his turn." The young bronzerider is favored with an indulgent sort of smile as M'nol motions for him to move forward, "I've only the same advice for you, but be sure to wait until Tscyleth has cleared the corral so he doesn't get hurt. The beasts are more likely to stampede from the larger dragons at their age."

Hmm. "Simple and too the point. Not much fuss or muss." She nods as she makes another mark or several down on her clipboard. She of course didn't even react to sound of the crunching. Well, maybe a little as she seems to lick her lips just a little. Not that she noticed herself doing that really. Her eyes glance back over to the blue and waits to see how the blue reacts to taking his meal out. While she keeps a look out on the bronze as well. One never knows how the young dragons may react to the sweet coppery scent of fresh flowing blood and entrails.

Malphath is watching what Tscyleth is doing with keen interest as his clutchsibling passes him by and leaps the corral. A steadying hand comes out from P'rel against his lifemate's hide, the bronze shifting his girth in an almost impatient way. The blond's gaze takes on that distant and far away look, expression more or less blank save for the slight upturn at the corners of his lips. As Tscyleth begins, Malphath leans forward ever so slightly his breathing deepening. So focused is he, that the larger of the two male dragons seems to twitch and jerk in reaction to the visual experience as he he were right there with the moonlit blue. At last the kill, and Malphath's nostrils flare at the scent of fresh blood, any growl that was to the follow quickly squelched with a jerking uptilt of P'rel's chin, eyes narrowing. "Steady…" he breathes, stepping along the length of the bronze with a single hand gliding along the well oiled hide beneath it. A single long look is given to I'srie from under the slope of his lifemate's neck and then the former harper gathers up Malphath's head up between his two hands and seems to be taking the time to prepare the both of them. Soft murmuring noises and nods ensuing.

There's a low-lidded look toward the AWLMs, and I'srie merely wrinkles his nose and jerks his head at Tscyleth, the blue leaning to clamp jaws around his kill and moving out of the corral in the same manner he'd entered. The the leap and landing are less fluid, but no less controlled, taking his meal aside to eat. There's little fanfare about it, as he picks on the tenderest parts of the herdbeast first with almost clinical indifference. Iess schools his expression, and if the blood on Tscy's muzzle and claws bothers him, there's certainly no indication. Iess turns his attention instead to P'rel and Malphath, having caught that single look sent his way, lashes lowering slightly as he watches the other weyrling pair, his own bond sparing his clutchbrother a mild look before returning attention to the fresh meat.

Keziah hmms a little "I think I'll need to go get some lunch after this." she notes thoughfully to herself and then peers a little a at Alosynth and then shrugs somewhat. "Looks like you'll need to work on excercising those hindquarters of his. He'll need to build them up to get decent lift later on." she remarks after a moment.

P'rel slides slowly burnished golden eyes upon M'nol, dark lashes lowering to half lid his gaze, and there is a shared shiver of anticipation between boy and dragon. They were more than ready. "Show them, Malphath." comes a sort of purr from the bronzerider, and so he stands as his lifemate suddenly wooshes past him and takes the fence of the gated area with a feline grace. A smile has already started to spread upon Py's face, gaze resting upon I'srie but for a fleeting moment before the boy turns and rolls his shoulders as Malphath lowers his body to the ground. Hind quarters lift ever so slightly, tail flopping side to side, a low rumbling growl emerging from him. In seconds, the bronze is moving, launching himself with a flowing gait, cutting off the largest of the terrified creature and swiping at it with one deadly talonned paw. P'rel draws in a sharp intake of breath, lips parting before a sinister grin erupts just as Malphath tears the creature open and blood sprays over his maw and chest. The human half of the pair shudders, panting for several long moments against the pitiful dying screams of the herdbeast, not reacting in the least the same way that I'srire had. P'rel wasn't turning away. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying the death rattle down to the last gargle, just as much as Malpath was. Still, Py swallows thickly and straightens his back, which sends the bronze to meaninglessly snap his prey's neck, clamping his jaw down cruelly around it before removing himself from the corral in a single leap. He trots off with it to a place somewhat near Tscyleth, and begins to eat. Licking his lips, P'rel is left but with a single shiver and a toss of his head, expression gone from sadistic elation to a sort of cool detachment, even as his gold eyes come to once more rest upon the assistant weyrlingmasters. What?

Tscyleth pauses in his eating to watch the bronze briefly, heedless of the blood dripping off his own muzzle as he observes the other's kill. There's a sort of absent appraisal in the way he cants his head, though no commentary is made on his clutchbrother's technique, interest returning to his own meal after a few seconds. I'srie, meanwhile, spares only a glance at Malphath, instead watching P'rel from beneath lowered lashes, a more obviously considering look, though once the both weyrling dragons are off eating, I'srie too returns his gaze to the AWLMs.

M'nol just stares at P'rel as the lad is completely unaffected by his assumedly first real taste of death, though he schools his expression to something more neutral before the boys turn their expressions back on him and Keziah. He surveys the eating with an experienced eye, then nods, "For the next sevenday or two, you're not to hunt without a member of weyrlingmaster staff present. After that, so long as there are no further issues, you'll be cleared for solo hunting."

Alosynth eyes the two kills and then turns her attention to the herd of young beasts that are pressed back into a corner by their own fear. There's a rumble and then Keziah is laughing "Indeed, time for some fresh meat." she grins as she heads off to walk past M'nol "They did well." she remarks sweetly. "Quite well indeed." A pause and a glance back at the weyrlings "Make sure they keep their wings tucked. Never a pretty sight to see their own claws ripping through a wing as the trip. No, not pretty at all." A glance at the dragons and then back to the weyrlings "I do hope they enjoy their meals. Beats sawing carcasses any day if you ask me."

Malphath looks to Tscyleth every once in a while, though it's not so much a seeking of approval from the smaller dragon so much as appraising. It's not for long, for the bronze is soon back to enjoying the fresh meat in relaxed mouthfuls. P'rel is watching his lifemate now, having caught M'nol's stare and met it with a slightly arched brow. A nod is giving, in passing to both Keziah and her brownrider counterpart, snapping off a crisp salute to them both even if his visual attention was focused on Malphath. In time, however, another look is given to I'srie and to Is'rie alone before the bronzerider moves away from the fence completely. "Class dismissed?" he asks, tone low and devoid of much emotion, sort of tossed over his shoulder in passing.

I'srie nods to the AWLMs, not watching his dragon eat but moving over to at least maintain some form of proximity, though mindful to keep out of the blood spatter range of both dragons. If Tscyleth notices the bronze's appraisal, he doesn't show it, intent on filling his belly and taking careful bites of the best parts of the herdbeast, discarding the tougher bits in favor of going for the heart, literally and figuratively, and the haunches. Iess stands with a shoulder facing the blue, aware out the corner of his eye what his lifemate is doing, though it's P'rel's look which is met by a quiet one, brows arching ever so slightly above pondwater eyes, before the bluerider is giving his own brief salute to the AWLMs and moving off as well, Tscyleth having eaten his fill, pausng to slowly and carefully lick blood from his muzzle.

M'nol frowns at the bronzeling's dismissive question, "Not until they've finished their meals." His tone stays soft and perhaps mildly disapproving. His eyes slide between the two, though, "Your partners did quite well. You should be proud of them." His expression remains impassive as he watches the messy eating. After 8 turns it should oughtta be able to deal with it, "And if you have troubles with /anything/, not just this, feel free to corner me and ask. We're not just here to pound lessons into your heads, after all."

With a glittering hint of carmine to vermilion eyes, Malphath's head lifts from what remains of the carcass and laps at his own blood marred muzzle. There wasn't much meat left, having quickly and efficiently picked his kill practically clean. Even the tough bits that Tscyleth had left on his own kill. Didn't seem to matter to the hungry bronze what it was as long as it filled his belly. Now that he was done, P'rel reaches out to touch that darkly etched hide, bloodied or not, getting a subdued rumbling from the dragon. There is a twitch at the boy's shoulders for what M'nol has to say, but little other reaction. There is a silence, and then a muttered, "Come on, let's get you clean and oiled." As Malphath was finished, P'rel starts to lead the bronze off the hunting grounds.

I'srie moves off as well, his own hands tucked back in jacket pockets, giving the carcasses a brief glance in passing with no apparent reaction. Tscyleth falls into step with his lifemate, ignoring the remaining blood on his talons and claws, as in all likelihood, bathing is in order, though the blue does shift closer, absently brushing shoulders now and again with his lifemate as they head off toward the beach.

M'nol sighs gently as the pair disappear into the distance, his words entirely for Faraeth, though of course Kezi and Alo can hear them as well, "This is definitely an interesting class…"

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