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The herd of herdbeasts nibbled their way through the fenced off feeding grounds, a middling sized band with a mix of young and old alike. As they went, one or two would pause to look around before hastening to keep up. It seemed a common trait of the creatures here to be ever vigilant, nearly paranoid in a way. They had good reason. The herd had seen it's share of attacks, slayings from on high. The recent increase in the number of predators around made life a constant peril, but they hadn't lost a member in a respectable while. (Not that herdbeasts have any sense of time.)

Today it seemed would be as calm as yesterday. They arrived at their destination, a secluded pond the various animals used for water and with a final glance around, sank in to their knees, enjoying the cool ripples on an otherwise hot evening. The pond deepened gradually towards the center, but none of the beasts went more than a half-length from the shore. They could swim if need called for it, but they did not swim for sport.

One of the larger male beasts drank as he went, wading slightly away from those beside him. Their hooves stirred up the mud, and it seemed he was a picky drinker. He moved to one side and further into the water with a slosh. The occasional fish darted to the surface, the only other thing moving in the water.

That is, until the snapping jaws of a wher rocketed out of the depths to latch into the neck of the poor beast. It squealed and bucked, but with the majority of the huge wher submerged it could not hope to drag itself free. Red blood stained the bronze jaws purple, and tainted the water as the beast was dragged under. Mimicking a reptile known to snare its pray in a similar fashion on a planet far far away, the wher thrashed and rolled, once underwater, spinning and tearing at the neck of the herdbeast. A bubble of blood blossomed up from it, splashing onto the surface a moment later.

From his seat behind a bush a few yards from the scene of the massacre, Tyven sighed. Did Tyvensk really need to be so...exuberant?

Tyvensk splash. Blood good...Sad. Other foods ran.

Tyven stifled a small laugh. Tyvensk was at his most talkative when he was eating.

Tyven made no move to help his companion when the herdbeast finally stilled and bobbed to the surface, already bloating as the bronzy beast fought to tug it onto shore. It was good exercise, not that the wher needed it. The rest of the herd was long gone by now, the water left a strange muddy red...It'd be a good time before any dared to drink here again, all the better that it had been a large buck Tysk had taken.

With much grunting and growling, the wher finally beached his meal and tore into the side, spilling blood and other fluids, as well as long ropes of intestines out into the dirt. Already bloody, the wher was starting to look more black than bronze with the gore splashed over his front. He dove face first into that slit, and ate ravenously. It had been a good few days since his last meal. Things were hard lately, and Tysk hadn't understood that he could no longer eat whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. This large meal was good for him, and for the rest of the weyr. Now no one else would come crying that the wher had eaten so-and-so's firelizard again, Tyven hoped.

Not-food. Rock. The wher alerted Tyven, who glanced up and around from his seat. True enough, there was a stranger, some little girl even, watching the mess. She seemed to not be too unsettled by the gore, so he paid her little mind. It was the ones that came waltzing in expecting the feeding grounds to be a tranquil place that ended up screaming when something bit something else's head off. And that screaming invariably led to a headache for Tyven. So long as she wasn't screaming, he decided he could stand her watching.

"See how he never bites off a piece bigger than his own tongue? Mind that, that's the biggest anything should ever eat. Something the size of its own tongue, or smaller." The advice would go for dragons too, though if she were a candidate she'd learn soon enough. He wasn't exactly certain why he'd shared the observation, but he shrugged it off. He didn't need a reason, he determined.

Tysk paused in his gorging, sensing the conversation was about him. He pulled his head out of the innards of the herdbeast and blinked his second eyelids at the girl on the rock by his Tyven. A string of blood or something else dark and sticky dragged slowly off his muzzle, splatting on his front claw. He seemed not to notice, and shortly after dug back in, this time wrenching a chunk of meat from the animal's flank to work at.

Tyven waited, thinking a moment before he decided if he was going to answer the girl. Normally he would just leave the silence hanging, or leave, but she hadn't been overly annoying yet. He had caught that something about himself had thrown her...that was usual. Especially for someone with a glass eye and a huge scar on the lid. Ah well.

"He usually eats as often as he wants. He can go almost a sevenday if he has to though. He's big enough." A shrug. "What he doesn't eat the firelizards will. He might bathe, but he's not particular about it. Dragons are much cleaner."

Both males seemed unfazed by the dimming light. For them dusk was daybreak, midnight their noon. That was the main reason for their general air of silence. Few were around to talk with so late, and they had become used to only hearing each other's thoughts. Tysk had begun to eat more at leisure, and he didn't even growl for more than a moment when a bold lizard appeared and began to inch closer. Not even a wher of Tysk's size could eat a whole herdbeast, there'd be plenty left.

A strange sort of noise came from Tyven at Kallista's comment. Laughter, maybe? "You think so? Tell that to him." Tyven rarely took the idea of bathing the wher beyond just that. He'd oil the beast, certainly, but if Tysk didn't want to bathe there was nothing he or anyone could do to make him.

He grunted at her fears dismissively. "Learn to swim," was all he would offer. It was a critical thing if she ever hoped to be a rider. Thread would drown in water, and he'd sen many riders leap from their mounts into the surf to save themselves when betweening was not an option.

Food. Good. Tysk interjected, and in a bizarre and rather rare show of affection came stomping over to offer a slab of meat to Tyven. The man showed no repulsion as he hefted the rather slippery hunk and bit a piece off. The wher snorted, satisfied that his sharing had pleased Tyven, and returned to his meal.

The darkness was obviously suited for the pair of males (or perhaps it was them that was suited to the darkness) and they seemed unfazed as it coated the land. Tyven hadn't thought to bring glows. Tysk could see perfectly, and they hadn't expected to meet anyone. Still, the girl had found her way here, she could find her way back when she wanted to leave.

Seeming to take no notice of the girl's face, Tyven indeed chewed at the piece, and after a moment swallowed it down. He hefted the slab of meat, but didn't take another bite...yet. He did prefer it cooked, and he would end up taking it to the kitchens later to have it. Tysk might not have had the best memory, but he'd know if Tyven tossed the meat away. He likely wouldn't be angry, but he'd grumble and be hard to work with for a time.

A shrug was the girl's answer. Tysk was certainly showing off now, knowing he had a slightly squeamish audience. There was a loud crunch of bones breaking...The wher was half on, half in the carcass now, and even in the dim light ribs could be seen. He'd snapped several, getting at the heart. The tough muscle was a favorite of the wher's and he was determined to get at it before the firelizards (for there was a small flock of them seated nearby now) moved in on it.

Tysk grunted, finally retreading from the corpse after a few last bites. He stood over it a moment, steam rising from his nostrils and gore-spattered skin. He stepped down from the body and, almost as an afterthought, wrenched a leg bone free to carry with him. The instant his back was turned the carcass was swarmed with tiny claws and wings and tails, all thrashing and biting. He ignored the firelizard swarm and hauled the bone over to Tyven's side.

The man reached down and rubbed the wher's head fondly as it gnawed at the bone. "When he hasn't eaten. I would be too, if I'd gone for days without food." Food. Tasty. The wher reiterated, tossing his head. "Dragons are the same. They eat more when they're small though. And you'll have to feed them, they can't hunt as hatchlings."

In the distance a dragon called out, the changing of those on watch. Both Tyven and Tysk grunted and nodded to Kallista. Then, with nothing more by way of goodbyes, they took their leave; Tyven walking alongside the huge wher at a quick pace back towards the weyr. They had first watch that night, it seemed.