don't need another perfect line [open~]

[Avu]

This idea is dumb. /You/ are dumb.

A’emi briefly considered his options for a retort, which ranged from the condescending ‘I love you too, darling’ to a more straightforward ‘go away’, and settled on the possibly most childish of all. Your face is dumb, he informed Kyrahth cheerfully, shifting carefully. And yes – the ‘carefully’ was more than necessary, given the precarious nature of his perch: Halfway up a tree, one leg hooked around a branch, the other dangling, a quiver of arrows slung across his back and a bow over one shoulder – blindfolded. Slowly he lifted the bow, settling it into place, strung an arrow, and then tilted his head, breathing carefully, straining to listen.

Really, Kyrahth interrupted again. When are you going to /need/ to shoot something full of arrows blindfolded but not tied up? And provided with weapons, to boot? The green was coiled around the base of A’emi’s tree, eyeing the herdbeasts that were providing targets for her Rider with a distinct dispassion. Not that that was terribly surprising; anything that took A’emi’s attention off of her was eyed with displeasure – he was hers, after all.

Night? A’emi suggested absently, leveling the bow with one of the rustles. He’d made sure that the arrows he was using had blunt tips – just so if he actually hit a herdbeast, it wouldn’t do more than bruise. Kyrahth wasn’t hungry, and even if she were, she was perfectly capable of hunting for herself. The greenrider shifted, ankle hooking around a branch a little more securely, and pulled back on the bowstring. At least Kyrahth’s position ensured that he wouldn’t accidentally shoot her, short of the arrow just falling out of the bow (and fortunately he was past that stage).

That’s what we have the night beasts for, the green retorted, her tone clearly indicating her sour mood. And A’emi supposed he didn’t really blame her. Having a mindmate fall out of a tree wasn’t exactly fun, even if he hadn’t. Yet. But she was ruining his concentration. A’emi huffed and tried to glare at her. There was a pause while Kyrahth processed the fact that she was being glared at, and then she informed him helpfully, Wrong direction, /dearest/, I’m more to the left. Unless, of course, you’re particularly irritated at a tree root.

Deciding that it was in his best interests to ignore Kyrahth, A’emi resumed his blind concentration on the herdbeasts milling below. A second later, he released the arrow – and felt a wave of particularly nasty amusement from the green below. Automatically, he grabbed at his blindfold, pulling it down over his nose and mouth, only to groan and push it back up over his eyes again.

I told you this was dumb.
You /didn’t/ tell me I was aiming at a /person/!
Well, you aimed /well/, didn’t you? Perhaps you ought to yell ‘duck’?
Oh. Yeah. Oops. A’emi inhaled, and then yelled – probably (okay, definitely) way too late – “DUCK!”

[dragon]

There really wasn't a whole lot to it. As big as the Weyr was, after awhile a body just ran out of new places to go, when they were in the habit of taking off and going for a walk. It wasn't as invigorating as going off and taking a random fly across the sky, but it did just about the same thing. Get a body out of the office and in the clear air, exercising otherwise unused muscles. It did a body good, it did. Even if it was kinda nippy out and the cloud of vapor that came from just breathing through one's nose was a bit on the detrimental side for seeing where he was going. Such as it was. Twice now he'd had to stop and remove icicles from the end of his nose. Despite how it was just vapor ice, that still seemed a bit on the more... uncouth side of things.

Nosicles. Wonderful.

Wearing a nice coat that kept out the worst of the chill, Emoyan had his hands tucked firmly into the pockets. Interestingly enough, big ol' Rascal was the one hunkering down inside his collar trying to stay warm. Skink, however, the tiny scrap of a creature, was dancing around on both shoulders (yes, both of them) like a deranged hyper little demon that didn't know what cold was. Much less could feel it.

He'd long since grown tired of telling her to calm down and sit still, though. Skink was just Skink, and she was insufferable sometimes. That was all there was to it. At least she wasn't destroying anything at the moment. That said, he was still rather startled into stumbling backwards from walking forwards when Skink suddenly gave a rather animated and loud war-cry, leaping off his shoulder out ahead of him almost faster than he could see.

DIEEEEEEEE!!!!! She screamed, loud enough to hurt the mind-ears of anything close enough to hear, before clattering to the ground in a rather interesting looking heap. Which ... just so happened to include her being tangled around the business end of an arrow.

"What in Far-" Emoyan started, looking down at that, interrupted by the rather late call of "DUCK!" Which neatly directed his attention toward the tree which had a dragon wrapped around the base of it ... and up in the tree was a lad with a bow.

Ah hah.

Skink untangled herself from the arrow and started trying to drag it away, as if it was a rather highly desired prize. Never mind it was almost as thick as she was. Emoyan rather figured the only reason the arrow hadn't hit him was because Skink was fast enough to have seen it coming, fast enough to do something about it, and fast enough to almost be able to fly and get to it, wrap around it, and redirect it via her weight downward. Yay Skink. Blunted or not, he was pretty sure that thing would have hurt. A lot. Padded coat or no padded coat.

"Hey, what are you doing anyway?" Emoyan demanded, especially since the kid was wearing a blindfold. He didn't have to ask, he knew quite well that the kid knew quite well that what he was doing was dangerous. Even if he could appreciate the skill that had to have gone into being able to hit a walking man from that far away, blindfolded. That wasn't the point ... why was he shooting at people?

[Avu]

There was no screech.

There was no thud.

There was…nothing?

Cautiously, A’emi pushed at the blindfold, up this time, to settle just above his right eye, still angling to cover his left, and peeked cautiously through the dismal remains of what had once been foliage. Oh, hey, he’d missed! He wasn’t entirely sure if he saw that as a good thing or a bad thing or what – since actually hitting the poor man would’ve probably been his best shot since ever, but still, yeah. Concussion via blunt arrow. Not fun. Getting yelled at, also not fun. Well, debatable, but generally not fun, anyway. A’emi unhooked his leg from around a tree branch, leaning forward with faint curiosity; where had his arrow gone?

Ah, the ground, apparently. Knocked out of the air mid-flight. By…A pet worm, Kyrahth sneered, and there was no getting around her disappointment that he’d missed. Pfft. Still ignoring Kyrahth, A’emi scooted closer to the trunk of the tree, slinging his bow over one shoulder, and had just started to get down before he realized, yeah, wait. Human. How helpful. Normally he had to get down after every shot to pick up the arrows again, because they were his practice arrows, he didn’t want to make new ones, and he would have to make new ones if a fat herdbeast trampled it into the ground and probably snapped it in half in the process.

The question earned a grin that was faintly cheeky, A’emi wrapping one arm around the tree trunk and swinging on it absently. “Sorry. Thought you were a herdbeast. Well, I mean, I did when I had the blindfold on. Not anymore. Not really.” He tilted his head thoughtfully, clicked his tongue in Emoyan’s direction. “Herdbeasts don’t usually talk. Or yell. Can I have that arrow back? I’ve only got so many and Kyr gets grouchy if I have to spend too long focusing on anything but her, y’know…” He squinted, and then pushed the other side of the blindfold up, too, over his forehead. Just so he looked like less of a pirate.

A sniff, and he pouted faintly. “Would’ve guessed that the only people that came out here were ones that got dragged along by dragons, and I would’ve heard about those.” His head tilted in the other direction, and the pout slid into a playful grin. “Hey, what’re you doing, anyway?” and he deliberately copied the other man’s inflection and – and, funny. Not much modifying of the accent necessary. Hmm. How…convenient? He stopped talking after that realization – which was probably necessary at that point anyway. One-sided conversations weren’t all that great.

[dragon]

The kid started to come down ... and then for whatever reason decided to stay put in the tree. Emoyan crossed his arms ... though the act looked a bit forbidding and all that, the real purpose was to retain warmth and keep his fingers nice and cozy while the kid decided what he was going to do. Skink was still struggling with the arrow on the ground, trying to drag it away. But it resolutely still lay about two feet in front of Emoyan's toes. Finally giving up, she sat down and started scolding. It appeared she was scolding Emoyan, but she wasn't.

Ras come help. Move prize. Yes, good flier. Come move, yes? She added, mentally, trying to entice the brown from the warm spot he'd made for himself. Rascal's head came up out of Emoyan's collar, and he took a look at Skink before uttering a negative chirp and tucking his head down again where it was warm. Skink huffed, and flared her frill defiantly. Come move stick, and Skink not destroy for whole day. She offered. Rascal's head came up again, and he blinked. He couldn't believe his ears! Was Skink promising to be good for a whole day? Just for an arrow? The brown untangled himself and slid out of Emoyan's collar, dropping down on briefly spread wings to the ground. Hopping forward, the sturdy, burly brown flitter laid both front feet on the shaft, and chirped at Skink.

Who quickly scampered forward to wind her tiny leaf-sized self around Rascal's neck. Rascal promptly took wing, and vanished between with his load. Wherever Skink wanted to go.

Emoyan blinked once, realizing that both of his pets had dissappeared, and with the arrow. How ... odd. "You thought I was a herdbeast." Emoyan repeated, before shaking his head. "Kid, if you can't tell the difference between two feet and four, you should check out what a herdbeast actually sounds like. There's a distinct rhythm to it, you know. As for your arrow ... it seems it has been appropriated, and I can't say to where." Emoyan was really curious what Skink had bribed Rascal with that had gotten such a swift reaction out of the brown. Normally Rascal was unflappable.

"Actually, a lot of people come out here to tend the beasts, tend the field, and in general just to walk. Like me." Emoyan shrugged. "There's a whole lot more activity here than just feeding dragons. This is where the Weyr gets its meat, too, after all." The kid seemed sane enough, now that he'd put his toys away and was using his gift of sight again. "I have to say you're a darn good shot, would have put out my eye or worse, I'm sure, if it hadn't been for my quick-moving friend." Emoyan did not miss the imitation, but decided not to comment on it. Some people were just that way. "I am standing here talking to you, now that I'm not walking anymore." He answered, rather literally. "Otherwise? I was enjoying the weather. Now though, I'd really like to know what it is you are trying to accomplish by this apparent practice of yours. It has me curious."

[Avu]

Ngh. There went his arrow.

You could’ve stopped him, he accused Kyrahth, more bemused than anything else. Why on Pern a brown firelizard would decide an arrow would be useful…
I refuse to acknowledge the existence of such a useless and irritating creature as worth bespeaking, Kyrahth answered smoothly, and curled herself a little tighter around the tree, head swaying slightly in Emoyan’s direction, eyes narrowing. Stupid human, interrupting them. The whole blindfolded-archery idea (dumb!) would only go only longer because of him. Maybe she should just…scare him a little. Make him go away. Just like his pet nuisances.

“So not fair,” A’emi sighed, kicking his feet against the branch right below him. “That was definitely my arrow. And it’s pretty hard to tell the difference between two beats and four, y’know, not like…like, two beats and three or something. ‘sides, I kinda figured Kyr would warn me before I gave anyone a concussion. Shows how trustworthy she is.” The ‘she’ in question shot a nasty upwards glance, and she ruffled her wings quietly before she deliberately threw her shoulder against the tree, sending violent vibrations upwards. The look of stupefied surprise that shot across the greenrider’s face was near comical as he latched onto the trunk, not letting go even after the tree stilled.

He still smiled, quick and bright, at the compliment. Compliments. Yum. It was that, mostly, that stopped him from arguing – most Southerners stayed firmly indoors when the weather got this cold, after all. A’emi descended absently to the lowest branch, when the other man went on, though, mostly for ease of conversation. Halfway up a tree was not exactly typical. And it also made it kind of difficult to see Emoyan’s face. Yeah, awkward much? He wasn’t in the habit of talking to strangers where he couldn’t see them clearly. Part of Kyrahth’s paranoia, no doubt.

“Heh. Enjoying the weather, you’d be one of the first.” He actually wasn’t dressed that warmly either, and lacked gloves entirely, mostly for ease of handling the bow. “I’m an enigma,” he added playfully, winking. “I make everyone curious.” His head tilted, A’emi pushing up the blindfold further over his forehead. “It’s a gift and a curse all at once,” he went on, offering a faintly overdramatic sigh. Kyrahth huffed in his face, and the deliberately overdone look of melancholy dissolved into a scrunched up expression, A’emi sticking his tongue out at the green before he said, more seriously this time, “Anyway, Kyr and I, we’re on the Legatus Wing and our Wingleader is possibly insane, so I figured I’d just learn this before he asked us to. Only a matter of time, yeah?

“Although,” he added, and half-grinned, “now if someone jabs me with poison I’m fairly certain I won’t drop dead on the spot, so that’s a plus, I guess. But. Had to learn archery, so I figured, if you can do it in the daytime, why can’t you do it at night? Hence the blindfold. Kyr says I’m dumb ‘cause we have whers, but, I mean, I really still hope I won’t just sleep through a battle. How much would that suck, seriously?”

[dragon]

Emoyan shrugged. "Except that I have no idea where Skink randomly stashes things, I would say that if I ever happened across it I might make an effort to get it back to you. But that would be kind of an unreasonable thing to say as it would only get your hopes up for a very small chance of ever seeing that item again." He offered. "Sorry." Emoyan frowned slightly at the antics the dragon took toward her rider, and sighed. "Kid, it looks like you need to work on your harmony there."

Of course, he couldn't help but think that there was a big difference between four feet and two ... but then he was a Harper, and had a very good ear for a beat. So he didn't bother to take that one up. Some people just couldn't hear that sort of thing. Note to self: don't ask this kid to keep a rhythm.

Emoyan tilted his head slightly. "Most everyone here in Selenitas is an enigma. You're unique .... just like everyone else. Don't you just feel special?" It was partly humor, partly teasing, and partly ... something else. Maybe sarcastic. It was kinda hard to tell though. "May I see your bow?" He asked, interested to see what type of creation the boy had chosen to play with. "Most riders never try to use a bow. Using one from horse back is tricky enough ... from adragonback is even harder with the complex math and timing of the arrow's flightpath." He paused for a moment, before quirking a brow upward. "Or is the training for making you lethal on the ground, instead?" A ground army with dragons above ... rather odd. A pair could function separately, but they actually did better together. Shards, it was being separated that had killed Emoyan's own blue. If they'd been together, he could have betweened away from the mess he'd gotten tangled in. But ... that was neither here nor there.

"Depends on the poison they use." Emoyan corrected. "You might want to look that sort of thing up." Harpering; it was more than singing. It was teaching, knowledge, and dispersal of that knowledge. Which meant Harpers needed to know stuff. Granted, Emoyan personally preferred the musical part of the profession, but it didn't mean he was inept in the rest of the craft. "So how do you figure?"

Archery. At night. "Well, it's a good theory. But unless you have a set of eyes you can reliably see through the dark with ... I fail to see what good it's going to do you. Archery is for distance. Once they're close enough to you that you can see them in the dark to shoot them ... it's too late for a bow. Yes, on one hand it's a good idea to be able to hit what you can't see. But in a forest? And where there are friendlies? Impractical at best, traitorous at worst. You need to know who you're shooting at."

[Avu]

He listened, mostly, looping one arm around the tree trunk and leaning against it absently. A faint smile curled the corner of his lips, and he hummed noncommittally on most points, just letting the other man talk. The bow was taken from around his shoulders, offered to Emoyan absently. It wasn’t anything special – just a basic bow, made as quickly as possible for the purpose of drills. Functional, not ornamental, though he had considered finding a professional to make it a little prettier, round out the curves a little more, add a few decorations. It didn’t have to be ugly. After all, his stiletto was quite pretty, thank you very much.

“Wow,” A’emi commented, after Emoyan had finished. “You’re really grumpy, aren’t you?” The words were uttered without any kind of malice, really. The greenrider kicked his feet absently, rubbed his cheek against the rough bark of the tree to soothe an itch. “Anyway, yeah. Just saying: I am already totally lethal on the ground. Like, you have no idea,” and he grinned, playfully, blinking lazily at Emoyan. “But I mean, I think it’s actually a last resort thing. Like, if we need to, we can? Same goes for poison. I don’t even know what I’ve been taking, but it hasn’t killed me yet and I’m sure it’s been a variety.”

An absentminded shrug. K’thay was pretty good about letting him barge into his weyr whenever he felt like he was possibly going to die and making sure he didn’t. Or maybe he’d just gotten lucky and K’thay actually would let him die if it came down to it. Eh.

“As for the night thing,” he went on, and stood on top of the branch, holding out his hand and wiggling his fingers for his bow again, “it’s kinda the same. Last resort. I prefer close-range stuff, but eh. Friendly fire doesn’t particularly worry me, either. I mean, like, last last resort, not semi-last or whatever.” He flicked his fingers, dismissive. “C’mon. Sitting here’s making my fingers go numb. Hop up, don’t step on Kyr’s tail, I’ll show you. It’s fun.” He tilted his head, a crooked smile darting across his mouth. “And if you think it’s really that stupid, then that’s my reason for doing it. I like it. Well. Kind of, not shooting people but…” He ended in a shrug.

Do /not/ let him step on me, Kyrahth said, acidic, and uncoiled from the tree to eye Emoyan mistrustfully. If she could have taken a snap at him and not gotten a mouthful of bow, she would’ve. Make sure he /knows/ I’m not a stepstool. And tell him not to pick at /us/. He’s no right. You’re /mine/. Her tongue flicked out, licking along her muzzle, eyes narrowed venomously. /He/ has nothing to do with us. /This/ is why I would prefer to let the arrow hit people. They /deserve/ it. Herdbeasts are too stupid to offend.

“How cheerful,” A’emi murmured, blinking the glaze-eyed look away. He flicked a faintly apologetic glance at Emoyan. “Kyrahth just doesn’t want to be stepped on. Tree’s safe, promise, and I don’t go up high enough to get hurt if I fall anyway. And – she kind of has a sick sense of humor. Which is why she didn’t feel like warning me, apparently.” And he kind of didn’t blame her; he had a sadistic streak, too. He just…hid it better, was all. “She won’t knock you out of the tree, though,” he added quickly, at the end of his careful filtering. “At least, not while I’m still in it too. C’mon.”

[dragon]

Emoyan shrugged. "I'm not all that grumpy, actually. Pretty easy to get along with, if I do say so myself." he answered. The kid sure had a huge ego, he could see that already. Thought he was such tough stuff. Emoyan was no fighter ... he was a Harper. But even that said, he was pretty sure he had more skill under his belt that this kid thought he had. "I'd be careful going around saying things like that, though. There's no point in stirring people up. There are a disturbing number of people who would jump you to see just how good you really are." He noted, with a slight nod.

"I have nothing against honing your skills, either." He clarified. "But you should do it where there won't be any accidental casualties, too. I realize you were trying that, here, but ... maybe you should take it outside the Weyr entirely?" He offered, as a suggestion. People generally took criticism better if there was a solution also offered. Generally.

The kid was ingesting toxins. Emoyan was no healer, but he was pretty sure that wasn't a good idea. Regardless the goal. "Er ... have you possibly spoken to a Healer about this ... poison idea?" He asked. "I hope you realize you're risking your dragon's life as well as yours... does your dragon approve of this activity?" Maybe the dragon would prod him straight, if no one else could? Surely the beast had some measure of self preservation.

Emoyan took a moment to inspect the tool of destruction, but could not say he was impressed. It wasn't even made of the right kinds of wood to be terribly effective. Turning it around, he gave it a test draw, and found it lacking. But then ... it was a kid using it, too. Hrm. Without any qualms he handed it back. A weak bow was better for practice stunts like this anyway... better to not hit anyone and kill them for the effort.

As for the offer of climbing a tree... Emoyan was not terribly enthused with that idea. However, on the other hand, someone had better make sure that the kid didn't hurt anyone or anything. "Alright." He circled around the trunk, jumped to catch a limb in one hand and very shortly made his way from limb to limb up the trunk. Despite not quite being a youngster anymore himself, Emoyan was just as quick and limber as he'd ever been. "Show me, then." Being above the kid was probably safer than being below him anyway.

[Avu]

Aww, how sweet of him, worrying about A’emi like that. The greenrider offered his companion an indulgent kind of smile, and didn’t say ‘I wish they would’. That was probably bordering the realms of unbelievable, but it was true, even if his comment had originally been intended as a joke anyway. Sparring with K’thay was good; bloodplay with Elysia was better – but it wasn’t real and he’d been itching for something more exciting for ages. That, as usual, translated into his being a little more outspoken than normal, and into Kyrahth positively vibrating with excess energy.

Besides, he was usually more than capable of holding his own in a fight, so long it didn’t turn into outright brawl. A’emi fought dirty, sure, but it was easier when he didn’t have to cope with more than one or two people at the same time, especially since his technique was mostly dodge and wait for openings. His size and lack of strength kind of limited him there.

The suggestion earned a noncommittal shrug. In all honesty, A’emi didn’t care about hitting people badly enough that he felt like going wherry-hunting or anything. Herdbeasts were much easier targets, especially when they were penned – and he was just trying to see if he could hit them at the moment. Actual hunting came later. “Yeah, maybe,” he agreed, ending with a quiet absentminded sound in the bottom of his throat. Which was just kind of a polite way of saying, probably not. Just because he wasn’t as obviously paranoid as Kyrahth didn’t mean A’emi wasn’t careful of his own safety. He’d much rather not be blindfolded where Kyrahth couldn’t easily reach him.

A faint smile, again bordering upon indulgent. “’Course I’ve discussed it with Kyr. And with um, a poison specialist,” who was K’thay. Who, as far as A’emi was concerned, was as good as a poison specialist. Seriously. “And it’s all good, I’m not addicted or anything,” he added with a playful wink. “Not hard to get the right dosages and stuff, and I’m careful.” He was, too. Once he’d managed to somehow screw it up and he’d ended up vomiting into the chamberpot. Since then, he’d been a lot more careful. Not fun, even if he hadn’t fainted or died or anything.

A’emi levered himself up a little farther in the tree, settling back onto the same branch he had before, foot hooking automatically around a lower branch for balance, and he took up the bow again, stringing another arrow before he lowered the blindfold. The bow rested against his knee for a moment as he tilted his head, swallowing the sounds of his own breathing, and then inched forward slightly, raising the bow, pulling back the string. He released on an exhale, an unconscious habit.

So? he asked Kyrahth.
From below, a snort. Hit. Congratulations. We can go home now. The green sounded distinctly unimpressed. A’emi ignored her lack of enthusiasm in favor of pushing the blindfold up, turning and offering Emoyan a bright smile, and offering him the bow and one of his arrows with a quirk of his eyebrow, the intention clear. Sure, messing around with bows wasn’t common – people seemed to prefer blades – but he’d already gotten into a tree. Might as well try now, even if it did fall flat, right?