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 Posted: Tue Jan 08, 2013 10:48 pm
Alright. Forks and knives. Those were another spot of difficulty that Taavi didn't even realize before he'd gotten injured. It was amazing how people manipulated the utensils with such elegance without even realizing it. Taavi certainly had never noticed it, not until he couldn't use his fingers completely.
Just another week of bandages, he said to himself as he tried to chase down a few errant peas with a fork. He'd been chasing them down for the past half-hour.
Gus assumed it was because, like him, Taavi longed for the hunt so much that he was willing to pretend to hunt down vegetables. The wher lurked at the end of the table, occasionally brushing his handler's leg, just to make sure the idiot human was still there. Mostly, the wher prowled; after being cooped up inside for so long on guard duty, he yearned to return to the great outdoors, where he could murdereat things with impunity and without people going, "OH FARANTH WHY IS ALL THIS BLOOD HERE?" and other nonsense.
"Aww, cheer up, Gus," Taavi said, automatically dropping a hand to the beast. Well, dropping UP, actually; Gus was already large enough that Taavi had to lift a hand to his shoulder while sitting. "Other folks should be coming in from evening patrol soon. Maybe we'll be able to live vicariously through their victories!"
Gus didn't even know what 'vicariously' meant. He patiently stared at Taavi, hoping that his handler would add on, 'it means we get to kill someone'. But he didn't, much to the brown wher's disgust. It practically radiated off of his mind. And yet... the idea of sneaking off for a night-time walk of his own didn't even occur to Gustav. That would've meant leaving his idiot alone.
Judging from his earlier observations of his idiot, Taavi could indeed hurt himself with a fork.
That was not a good idiot to leave on his own.
Gustav waited.
Taavi put the fork down (much to the wher's relief) and instead tore into a roll with his teeth. MUCH easier to eat. He knew there was a reason he liked them. "Anyway, just try to be pleasant, alright, Gus?"
Gus made no promises.
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Posted: Thu Jan 10, 2013 9:45 am
Brakesh dropped her plate onto the table, distractedly pawing at her wher's head in effort to keep him away from her food. JUST TASTE, BRASK JUST WANT TASTE. The wher pawed forward, before halfhazardly clambering up to the table in some odd impression of his handler. JUST TASTE. BRASK GOOD TODAY YES? NOT EVEN PLAY FUN WITH BIGWINGS TODAY. BRASK GOOD, YES?
Brakesh looked up at her wher, completely unamused. No, he hadn't picked any fights with the dragons today, but that hardly meant he had been good. The entire day the beast had been distracted and antsy. Maybe one of the golds near by would be flying soon. Most likely, however, it was his distracted handler.
There were eggs on the sands. It had been almost impossible to keep the word off of her mind, Eggs! For obvious reasons, the girl had never been a part of the search. The Watchmembers had been searching for her alright, but not for a touching. She'd never been interested in the dragons, but the idea... A gold flown by a blue. She couldn't help but root for the little guy, and have hope for the eggs. Maybe this would really change things. All of her life she had snuck through the guards of the northern weyr, hoping to glimpse the huge eggs incubating on the sands, and now she felt that same curious draw. The thought that someone no one had thought capable had succeeded, she liked that. She didn't know too much of the situation, as with most things the girl kept her head down and did her work, but even she knew this didn't bode well for the bluerider. People didn't like when you proved them wrong. Maybe she would go to the touching this time. It wasn't like she'd be under the nose of some pretentious bronze, and the goldrider wasn't too bad, from her experience. They might as well have been saints for how little trouble they gave her, compared to the riders of the northern weyr.
WUMP.
Brakesh jumped, startled out of her thoughts only to find her wher's head thumped upon the table, staring intently at a slab of herdbeast. She scowled at the beast, pointedly stabbing her fork into the piece of meat. The wher wriggled before her in a manner more becoming a hatchling, inching ever closer to the plate. "Stop acting like a Hatchling, Brask." She snapped, and the beast looked crestfallen. Large, faceted eyes grew even larger, and the beast when unbecomingly still...
Brakesh heaved a sigh, and tossed a sliver of meat into the air. The wher caught it before it landed, happily melting back into his wriggling skin as he delighted in his new prize. The smallest smile shone through on the young woman's face as she watched her wher delight in his prize. There was something about the beast's unashamed happiness that was ever infective, and it played smiles upon her face like nothing else.
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Posted: Wed Jan 16, 2013 2:17 pm
Ooooo. Another wherhandler. Taavi perked up. Sure, he loved Gustav----and he was pretty sure Gus loved him, as much as a murderbeast was capable of such an emotion-----but the wher wasn't much of a talker and, to be quite blunt about matters, Taavi definitely was. You could only chat to yourself and an unresponsive wher so many times before people started making suggestions about visiting one of the many fine mindhealers that Warden's offered. Faced with the possibility of actual human interaction, Taavi jumped.
Not literally, thankfully. He merely sauntered over to the woman bearing an offering of meatrolls. "Meatroll, miss? Made special today. Made of genuine meat. Shards if I know what kind, but it's definitely from some sort of land-living creature and it probably wasn't named Spot or Ginger. That's about as good as things get around here. I have to say, we probably shouldn't put that on the pamphlet. 'Come to Warden's, where our meatrolls probably aren't made out of canine or runnerbeast'. Just doesn't have the right ring to it, now does it?"
Without waiting for an invitation, he took a seat nearby. Being roughly familiar with whers and their territorial instincts, he took care to sit juuuust far enough away from the woman so he wouldn't look like a threat to her wher. BIG wher too, he noted. He didn't have much to fear from whers thanks to Gus, but he found it was better to be cautious. Blood was so hard to get out of clothes.
"Don't believe we've met, because I'd definitely remember you and your lovely wher," he said, eyes twinkling roguishly. "I'm Taavetti. Just call me Taavi. And this lump of wherflesh is Gustav."
Gus said nothing, but merely loomed. He was a good loomer. The brown wher studied the other male suspiciously, trying to see whether he was a threat or could be safely ignored.
"Be nice, Gus," Taavi warned.
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Posted: Wed Jan 16, 2013 5:24 pm
Brask went quiet as the meatman approached, nostrils twitching at the scent. Brakesh was rather sure that he'd have swiped one off of the man's plate then and there if he hadn't noticed the bronze wher looming---hold a moment. That wasn't bronze. The woman did a double take at the gargantuan brown, studying his structure. He was of an amazing size, but unlike her large bronze, this creature was finely built. Brask was built well, most people were unlikely to notice the large goofy head. No one really looked at the head that was filled with teeth. No, this wher wasn't like goofy Brask. This was a real wher, damn near perfect one she would wager. She couldn't help wondering how the brown would pair with the old man's gold, back in the northern Weyr. The brown's prowess was something that even Brask could not deny. Slowly and almost precisely, the bronze stood. It was the first time he had been quiet all day, and his handler breathed a sigh of relief. Brask watched the looming wher, not at all liking this entire looming thing. Looming was alright. It was fun, especially when it scared someone. However, Brask hardly liked when he and his handler were the target of the looming. A low growl began in the bronze's chest, before it was quelled by a sharp elbow to the ribs from his handler. Almost immediately, the bronze collapsed back into his hatchling demeanor, nostrils flaring at the scent of meatrolls. He didn't care what kind of meat it was made of, nope! Not in the least.
Brakesh gave something between a snort and a laugh, it was hard to tell which. She watched the young man as intently as her wher had watched his a moment before. The wher she could trust to do as his nature told him, so long as she watched herself she likely had nothing to worry about the wher, but people... People, not so much. He was bold, she would give him that, also relaxed and friendly. A tad pretentious, perhaps, but friendly. Something unwound in Brakesh's expression as Taavi complemented her wher. Some people could be won over with kindness. Some people could be won over with jokes. There was only one thing that was sure to win Brakesh over, and that was through her wher, or even just whers in general. Why, she almost smiled. She offered her hand for a shake, "Brakesh." The young woman gave a short nod in the direction of her bronze ( who, incidentally, saw fit to take advantage of the distraction, and swipe a slice of meat from her plate ) "And this is Brask." She looked back just in time to catch the beast swallowing the meat whole. One of these days, she swore, she was going to beat him within an inch of his life. Brakesh took one of the offered meat rolls, "I suppose I'll be needing one of these now." Her voice was tinged with a growl of annoyance, but it quickly subsided. Despite all of her annoyance, she had never laid a hand on her wher. Some said she had ruined him that way, that she had babied the beast and that was why he acted as oddly as he did. Maybe they were right, but that didn't change the fact that she never had the heart to do it.
She turned her attention back to the brown wher, Gustav. "Fine beast you got there." There was an honest tone of friendliness to her voice as she admired the beast. She looked back at her own wher, already sniffing back at her plate. Immediately the girl turned cross, "You had your taste now leave my food alone." and took a bite of her roll, as if to enforce her point. The bronze responded with a large, slimy lick to his handler's face before darting off. Immediately, Brakesh stiffened, her expression first shocked, then cross once again, and finally exhausted. A stubborn smile pulled at her expression. It was something that she hated, and the wher knew she hated, and yet he had never dropped the habit. That stupid, goofy, troublesome, irritating, button pushing, wonderful stupid beast was lucky she loved him so much. "...I think mine could stand to learn a few lessons from him." Brask, knowing he had avoided the initial fury of his lady, had already come wriggling back, now more interested in his fellow wher. Upon his belly, he wriggled closer to the stony brown, ever like a hatchling, his large eyes swirling in excited and curious reds and blues. His neck craned forward, sniffing at the air with a bright, curious expression. He certainly was not a threat, but he hardly seemed to fancy being ignored either.
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Posted: Wed Jan 16, 2013 6:48 pm
While Taavi's mouth chatted, he kept a cautious eye on Gustav. The large brown had never shown aggressive tendencies towards other whers (or, indeed, most dragonkind), but Taavi had learned the hard way that there really was a first time for everything. It wasn't a matter of simply listening to the little bit of his mind that was Gustav and figuring out if the wher wanted to kill or not. He always wanted to kill. That was the problem. Taavi automatically stuck a hand out on Gus' shoulder as the bronze wher stood up, but the large brown paid the other male no mind. Brask, it seemed, could do whatever he wished and Gustav wouldn't mind. All the while, the wherhandler kept up the cheeriness.
What? Problems? No, of course not! Everything was fine. He accepted Brakesh's handshake warmly. "Well, it's nice to meet you both. I see Brask has got himself a bit of a mischievous streak. Cheeky little b*****d, isn't he? Adorable though." At least as far as whers went. They all had been hidden behind the door when the good looks were handed out, but the bronze's attitude reminded Taavi of a particularly excitable puppy.
Complete with the unfortunate tendency to sneak at any and all food that was left unguarded. Taavi barked a laugh as the sneaky wher immediately tried the same trick as soon as Brakesh's back was turned. Why, wasn't that just adorable. Admittedly less adorable if the wher tried to, say, take someone's leg instead of merely food, but still. Given the current circumstances, it was quite cute.
"What, really?" Taavi asked incredulously, glancing back at Gus. Shards if he knew what whers were supposed to look like beyond 'ugly dragons'. He shrugged. "I don't know much about whers. I just knew that, if I got a wher, I wouldn't be snapped up by a dragon. Not that I dislike having Gus, of course. Wouldn't trade him for the world."
The brown wher rumbled like a volcano ready to explode and nudged his nose against Taavi's back. Automatically, the handler dropped a hand to rub his eyeridges. Gustav was purring. The scratching stopped as Taavi considered the lessons Brask could learn from the brown.
"...Nnnnoooo," he said slowly. "Trust me. Gus has got himself a nickname. I mean a nickname beyond 'Gus'. It's 'murderbeast'."
The 'murderbeast' regarded Brask politely with the air of a large wolfhound examining a young puppy. Not a threat, not a challenge. Just a thing That Happened to Exist. In contrast to Brask's happily swirling eyes, the brown's remained a dead rusty-orange. Nostrils flaring, he delicately touched noses with the bronze. It was about as friendly as he got with whers he just met.
"How old is Brask?" Taavi asked curiously, pleased with Gus' progress.
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Posted: Wed Jan 16, 2013 9:12 pm
Brakesh gave a bark of a laugh, as she watched the bronze and brown meet. Brask had learned his wher-manners the hard way from his own sire long ago, even if the old bronze had never been able to chew the sheer idiocy out of the then little wher, but she still held her breath when whers met. She had seen them range from Brask's goof to psycotic beasts that made her wonder how they'd even gotten the chain on the beast's neck. You never could be too sure, after all.
The handler's eyebrow shot up, "I'm not sure that 'cheeky' entirely covers it, but yea." Adorable. She looked at her goof of a wher, who quite litteraly had brought so much shame to his line that the old man had trouble selling eggs for three turns after Brask had matured. Adorable was new. She looked back to the brown, By the dragons, she had never seen such muscle! His wings were a tad small, albeit, and his tail oddly long, but she could hardly see either as a fault, not with that much sheer muscle to tug him along. Her delight and interest played honestly upon her expression. Whers. She had fallen in love with the entire species the moment she'd seen that slimy bronze hatchling tumble out of his egg. They were undeniably ugly, but oh, she found them beautiful. It was far from a dragon's sort of beauty, all grace and eloquence. Theirs was a rough, real beauty. Hard creatures that dutifully served their purpose and bonded with out the least bit of thanks or love--that was beauty. That was something that the dragons would never have, not in Brakesh's mind. To be beaten, bruised, culled and fought to the death, and still be so willing to rise up and love their bonded. That was real beauty.
"I've never seen such dense muscle, not on a brown." There was wonder and fascination in her voice and a genuine smile lit her eyes. "Before I came here, I learned to raise whers. Was even in line to inherit a gold, but plans change, I suppose." She gave a shrug, her eyes flashing back to Gus. "He's got a good nature, for a wher. Most can't resist snapping at Brask when he wriggles up. Brask could stand to learn some of that seriousness." She paused, smile softening as the beast laid his head in his handler's lap. The rumble was a sound she knew fairly well, a sign of a contented wher. Taavi might not have known much about whers, but Brakesh had no doubt that the brown was in good care. A light laugh rumbled in her own chest as he mentioned the brown's nickname. "A fitting name for the first wher I've ever met who scares me more with his muscle than his teeth." The words were light, her tone long lost the tinge of annoyance and completely absent of whatever fear she mentioned. "Brask listens to orders when he needs to, but other than that he seems to be usless for anything other than stirring trouble with the dragons." She looked to her bronze with love, "He's, oh.. Nine--No, ten turns now, I believe." The handler reran her math before nodding in agreement with herself. "Still acts like he's fresh out of the egg, unless he's working." Brakesh gave a small laugh, "Gave up hope a long time ago that he'd ever act his age."
Her eyes flashed back to the brown wher, a twinkle of amusement and irresistable curiosity sparkling in her eye as she studied the beast. She stood, and walked a circle around the wher, keeping an appropriate and cautious distance. Immediately, Brask's eyes locked on the brown with a new intensity. It was a routine the two knew rather well, when it came to inspecting any wher. Brask might have been stupid, but he had little trust for any beast near his master, and so he had taken to watching. He had been delighted when they had touched noses, his eyes bursting with green, but as his handler had approached, they flowered in orange and the two colors swirled evenly. The old man had always said that it was only the wher's eyes that betrayed his age. By his actions, many would think him a young, boisterous hatchling wher, not the seasoned ten turns he had beneath his wings. He may have acted like a hatchling, but those eyes were clear and precise as they trained on Gus: Do. Not. Touch. There had been a time when this watching had made Brakesh nervous, but through their years in the northern Weyr, and the whers they had helped the old man raise, she had come to trust Brask's judgement completely. As cautiously as she walked, as carefully as she kept her distance, the handler never approached any wher without Brask present and watching. He had saved her from far too many scrapes, and even turned a few intended maulings into brutal lessons for whatever wher was stupid enough not to listen to that warning: Do. Not. Touch.
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Posted: Wed Jan 16, 2013 9:57 pm
"With his size, I'm not surprised 'cheeky' doesn't even begin to cover him. Still, he's charming. Personally, it's a bit of a relief to see a more playful wher around here. Gus here, I couldn't even get him to play when he was just a hatchling. I'm not much good at maths beyond probabilities, but I'd reckon Brask there is about..." Taavi put on a face of mock seriousness, bandaged hand to his chin as he squinted at the bronze. Squinting was, of course, of great importance; he'd once managed to run quite a con based on his abilities to squint and come up with long complicated names for 'sore throat'.
Of course, his ability to run very, very fast was just as important later.
"I'd reckon he is seventy percent cheeky, twenty percent mischief, and ten percent adorable," he announced with due solemnity. Whers lacked the grace and elegance of dragons. But they had their own rough-edged beauty that required no polishing to those willing to see it. What dragons had was grace. What whers had was pure power. Some more than others.
In addition to being able to squint and look solemnly at things, Taavi also had the rare gift not to pry. For instance, he merely nodded at Brakesh's story; he absolutely did not ask why she was no longer in line to inherit the gold. So few people came willingly to Warden's. It was the place where the rejects of Pern went. One way or another, it was a house of whittle.
"Yeah, Gus has got that in his favor. Can't find a calmer wher. Used to be I'd have to get up every few hours just to make sure he was still breathing, he'd be so still. And, if you want a wher to sit around and look intimidating, he's the beast." Best to just... not mention the fact that, whenever Gustav bit down on something, Taavi could taste the blood. It was, he figured, more or less typical for wherhandlers. All part of the bond, right? Instead, he chewed on a meatroll, on the basis that mealtime was for chewing food not words.
Not that he was any good at not talking.
"Ten turns, huh? And he's still just a pup of a wher. That's sweet, it really is. Gus is around one turn old now, not that you'd be able to tell. Aww, but you should see him in the water! He loves it. He acts like a little hatchling then. Always blowing bubbles through his nose and chasing after them. He calls them 'bubblefish', near as I can tell. Sweetest thing I've ever seen." You know, despite the fact that his wher was gleefully pretending to kill everything forever.
Taavi's words trailed off a bit as the woman approached his wher, but he wasn't overly worried. Gus wasn't exactly violent. Not... precisely. He was more of the potential sort. It was like looking at a dark forest. It didn't have to do anything to be scary. It was enough to know that the shadows existed and that the world simply didn't care about one human. That was what Gustav was like. A force of nature.
He was also smart enough to recognize that Brask's Do Not Touch feeling wasn't a threat. The bronze's emphasis was a promise of what would happen. That suited Gustav fine. The brown yawned and he allowed an inkling of his thoughts towards Brask, a calm reassurance that he wouldn't kill.
Brask's made Taavi happy. Why would Gus try to destroy that?
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Posted: Mon Jan 28, 2013 8:46 am
As Brakesh sat, the bronze wher melted back into his typical skin. Brakesh could feel the sudden burst of joy as Brask rose and took a mile where he sensed and inch. BRASK LIKE BEASTYBEAST. BEASTYBEAST GOODCALM AND BIGSTRONG. The wher's body undulated like an over excited canine, from the tip of his nose down to the very tip of his tail. He decided immediately that Gus was his friend, and the best of all of his buddies. He sidled over to the brown, and sat beside him, doing his best to match the brown's loom. Of course, it was terribly hard to loom when one refused to sit entirely still, wriggling with excitement the entire time. He had liked the brown the moment he saw him--as he did with most creatures--but the reassurance had won him over completely. Like it or not, Gus had won himself a most loyal friend, and it was something that Brask would never forget. Should anyone ever find themselves on the wrong side of Gus, they would find themselves on the wrong side of Brask as well, though you could hardly tell it by the way the brown sat, wriggling with friendly excitement.
Brakesh gave a light laugh, "You've pegged him rather well." She paused a moment, watching Taavi much in the same way she had looked at the young man's wher not a moment before, evaluating in a manner. He was charming, she'd give him that. She had never particularly liked charming people, it had always given her the feeling that they had something to hide, but in her mind how a person treated a wher spoke volumes. He had taken good care of his, and had been kind to her bumbling idiot of a wher. Brakesh wasn't sure if she exactly trusted the man, but she certainly liked him. It hardly went beyond her notice that he hadn't pried like some chatty cathy's would, something she appreciated. The corners of her eyes crinkled in a smile that never quite reached her lips as Taavi spoke of his looming wher in the water. "Now that is something I'd pay to see." She could only imagine the stony brown skipping about in the water chasing after bubbles. "If you ever have the time, let me know when you go. Brask loves to play, water or no." She watched her wher half cuddling up to the brown. The image was enough to pull the smile in her eyes down to her lips. "...And he seems to have taken quite a shine to Gus." As if on cue, the bronze christened his new friend in the only way he knew how--a long, slimy lick to the side of the face. He had a terrible habit of claiming certain creatures as his friends whether they liked it or not, and his antics had quite angered a few in the past. Brakesh herself was beyond worrying, rather content to let Gus handle things should he not like the gesture. She had learned early that if she tried to separate the wher from something he liked, he would never learn his lesson. Better to let him be chomped in the face once than have to do it again and again. Besides, she had faith in her bronze's durability.
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