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Wherlet Blues; Open
Topic Started: Oct 22 2014, 05:33 AM (343 Views)
Rayquaza
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Weyrling
The morning of a wherhandler wasn't quite the same as the mornings of almost everyone else. For one thing their day started around sunset. Furthermore... well actually that was about it aside from the tidbit concerning being bonded to a wher instead of a dragon or firelizard. Still, it was a fairly big difference as far as she was concerned. Enough that her schedule and general way of living were quite different from most morning dwellers. But even then there were still similarities that liked to linger. For example, waking up was hard to do and always the easiest when you did in on your own.

At first she had woken up on her own. The overly exhausted wherling had not only woken up but maintained her wakefulness all the way to the dining hall! Granted Quistly wasn't normally one to do things such as fall asleep at the dining hall. When she had signed up to be a wher candidate she knew that wherlinghood wouldn't be easy. But still she hadn't expected this. That being said there was one blaring thing she hadn't expected - Quisk was a little shaffit. A little shaffit who took a strange amount of glee in ensuring that she never slept.

A blue snout poked at her foot beneath the table before letting out a snort. Pathetic, the blue grumbled. It was proving so easy to mess with her! Just a lack of sleep and she just passed out. Well that wouldn't work. She needed to be awake for anything exciting to happen! As such Quisk bellowed just as Quistly was truly dozing off, QUISK'S. Be wake! The result was the wherling jerking back into wakefulness with a startled yelp followed by a glare at her little terror of a wher.

Oh, if whers could smirk his would be a mile wide. As it was he innocently said, is wake time, remember? A.K.A. time for him to see and do all sorts of fun and exciting things.
Whensig? Soonsig. Whatsig? Newsig!
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marchosias
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& grey Felseth
The evening thus far had gone a little exhaustedly. It had taken Sijard an irritating amount of time convincing Sijask to get his tiny tailfork out from a crudely made lair (seriously though, how did he manage to tug out all her furs from around her sleeping form and stuff them under that one rickety chair?) and she'd nearly lost her damned temper, but the promise of food was too tempting an idea for the little blue to continue being wedged in his dark hidespot.

Lair. Den, he continued to insist with a bit of bite to his tone. Sijard snickered at this, though. "Of course, herdbeast hide and the worst made sitting instrument in Vaioa is a lair."

Her mockery frustrated Sijask to no end and he took some pleasure in trying to nip at the handler during feeding, but unfortunately for the wher his mouth was still completely devoid of teeth and Sijard got more laughing opportunity. "Once you're no longer all gums you better watch that mouth of yours or I'll bloody get you," she had said haughtily, but all Sijask retaliated with was a soft hiss.

Unappetising as the wher's meal was, Sijard was starving by the end of it, and she stared down at her little blue tank with folded arms. Bloody porridge had mostly been wiped away but a small dribble trickled down his chin. "I'm gonna go and grab some food now, and I think you're gonna come with me."

Sijask was not exactly impressed with the idea. Too many! Loud and anger!

"You need to get over yourself and learn to tolerate other people's presences. I did it, so you can too, knucklehead."

Lair, he growled while trotting at Sijard's heels. "No."

Lair.

The woman was grateful the dining hall had been closer than their quarters. Very grateful. Sijask did not want to navigate confusing hallways filled with strange folk who would try to touch or engage him in overly sugared speech without his walking shield of meat that fed him. Were he not a bitter creature he may have sulked, but the static shade of crimson in his eyes showed quite the opposite. As they marched one person had approached the twosome and asked for a touch, how polite, but had baulked when Sijard casually mentioned a guaranteed finger loss.

With that out of the way and a platter covered with perhaps a few too many meatrolls (she decided against soup, as the consistency reminded her an awful lot of blood oats), Sijard tried to inconspicuously scan the crowd. She couldn't see many people she particularly cared for, but was rather pleased to notice one of Sijask's clutchbrothers wavering around the feet of a rather exhausted looking... ah, was that Quistly? She'd never spent any time with Quistly and her wher may be a distraction to Sijask, saving Sijard from unpleasant mid-meal interruptions...

And so she slid into the seat beside Quistly who had been startled into consciousness by something unknown, which had prompted Sijard into a choppy snort of laughter that may have been too loud. "You alright there? Jumpin about like that doesn't look too comfortable." An otherwise pleasant smile may have helped soften the slight joke, but Sijard had promptly begun digging into her meal. You remember to behave, kid. Let me eat in peace.

As Sijask considered this he seated himself as slowly as a wherlet could sit before easing onto his belly, all the while staring at Quisk. His handler's leg was a partial shield from the other blue and he was grateful for the emotional stability it brought him. Again Sijard's commands filled his mind, would she give him no break? Go on, introduce yourself or something. I've already done it. Ugh.

You... Quisk? he glowered from the comfort of Sijard's leg.
|
|-[DRAGONRIDERS]
|      |---[AMBER] [DRAGONHEALER]---- R'SUL [OF] RAKYTH [*]
|      |---[SHALE] [WINGRIDER]---------- Y'LEN [OF] BERASATH
|      |---[MARBLE] [WINGTHIRD]-------- T'YOV [OF] SERELATH [*]
|      |---[MARBLE] [WINGRIDER]------- TAICIA [OF] BALFORTH [*]
|      |---[FLINT] [C. MASTER]----------- S'DRA [OF] ECHONOETH [*]
|      |---[COAL] [WINGRIDER]---------- ARRYN [OF] MAHARITH
|
|-[WHERHANDLERS]
|       |---[STEEL] [PATROLLER]--------- SIJARD [OF] SIJASK [*]
|       |---[PEWTER] [WORKER]----- REIMHART [OF] REIMHASK [* - * - *]
|
|-[ONPCS] - [R'EN] / [HL'RAN] / [T'LON] --- [TRACKER]
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Ferret
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Weyrling
Wherhandlers lived their lives backwards: they woke up when the sun was setting, went to sleep when other people were just starting to stir. In general, the lifestyle tended to attract those who, for whatever reason, were inclined to avoid other people. Oren was definitely one of those. He lingered outside of the dining hall, reluctant to go in because... well... there were strangers there... logically, he knew he had no reason to be anxious. They were other wherhandlers, just like him. All they had on their mind was eating, not silently criticizing everyone around them.

But logic held up against sheer anxiety and nerves about as well as snow did on a summer day. There was simply no contest. In the back of his mind, though, there was a little bright ray of hope named Orensk, who only saw new friends.

Tiny whers! Orensk chittered excitedly, having no such issue with the new wherhandlers. They had tiny baby whers! How could someone not be excited about that? He gently nudged Oren on the back, urging his handler to go into the room and get some food. Food was important! Food was like fuel for fun!

Oren reluctantly approached the two women with his food and sat down to eat in peace. Or at least what he hoped was peace. He jerked in surprise when one of the women jolted, but relaxed slightly. About as much as he could, anyway.

“Krkrk?” the large brown----sadly too big to fit under the table with the wherlets----peeked under it anyway, large eyes swirling blue and green. Babies? Babies meet Orensk? Play yes?
|X| Oren of Brown Orensk (#684045) Green Trouble
|X| T'vet of Beryllium Belrodoth (BB6622) and Green firelizard Miss Bossybritches
|X| Zoriah - Candidate
|X| N'vor of Green Sarath #2D5B1E
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Rayquaza
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Weyrling
Between her lingering sleepiness and the unpleasant sensation of being woken up when she was far from ready Quistly's head was spinning. Before she even reacted to the world around her she allowed herself a moment to just breathe. Once she felt she had a slightly better grasp on the waking world she shot an annoyed glance at her wher. Said wher was perfectly content to play the innocent for the time being. What? he sweetly inquired. Gon' thank Quisk? Much nice to not let sleep forever. The look she gave him implied that she hardly planned on doing anything of the sort.

She was distracted from continuing to glare at her oh-so-lovely bonded by the arrival of another of the wherlings. Quistly let out a irritated snort. "It's not," she confirmed. "But I've gotta say, having a wher that relishes making me flail about like that is even less so." Even as she spoke she could feel Quisk glowing with pride. There was no doubt about it; that wher was a little shaffit.

Under the table said lumpy little shaffit was dealing with the annoyance that was his brother. How did he know he would be an annoyance? Simple, he wasn't him and thus was bound to be less intelligent than himself. As far as he was concerned this sentiment was proven with the other blue's first question. No, he bluntly stated, I Sijask. This was, of course, a lie. That being said it was a lie that had the potential to provoke an interesting reaction.

When Oren arrived Quistly greeted him with a quick bob of her head. It was a polite enough reaction and thus one that Quisk would definitely not mimic. The blue glowered at Oresk for a moment before sarcastically asking, Oresk sure not secretly firelizard?
Whensig? Soonsig. Whatsig? Newsig!
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