Constant change is here to stay (Rei)

[rii]

A shadow moved across the pale trunks of trees as Quintresk slipped along the outskirts of the apartments in a gliding step that seemed mythical due to the sheer length of him. Surpassing bronzes in length, the brown didn't carry their bulk, slender and streamline that made him quite handsome despite the notorious ugly remark people tagged onto a wher. His coloration was near black, a brown so dark with the crimson piping winding down his sides in subtle striping that didn't quite show in the moonlight.

A smaller shape slipped into toward the actual apartments, wondering as he did, if any of them had missed him. He would out right laugh if they did. Probably noticed that the place had been eerily quiet without him there to start a ruckus. Well too bad, he was back, after a bid of traveling around (he'd be damned before behaving as if chained to the sharding weyr) .. that he did after ducking out of the weyr during Fort's attack. Honestly, they had given the wherhandlers orders to go to the hatching grounds and Quintrell had immediately gone the opposite direction -- out into the jungle to take his chances alone.

Tip-toe. Tip-toe. Hidden beneath a thin cloak to ward off the night's chill the short thief toyed with the idea of sneaking into the other apartment to see if any of the other weyrhanlders were around. Only.. who was this stranger he spied lurking about. Too short to be Eikane or Dmitri. Not curvy or short enough to be Yoalla. Didn't bounce like Nautic. Hm, who could it be. Only one way to find out!

"Scoundrel!" He shouted completely.. unashamed at making a scene. Quintrell shot out from around a corner to full on tackle the stranger from the front – wrapping his own arms around the boy's just to make sure the guy didn't pull a knife. You never knew with these weyr-types. "Thinkin' ta pinch a few marks n' jewels while the handlers are out for the night do'ya? Well lad, ye've just been caught – whaddaya got ta say for yerself?"

[Rei]

Darmori shouldn’t probably be breaking curfew but he wanted to see a wher so bad. It wasn’t fair. The other candidates got to see dragons all the time but he never got to see or even interact with a wher. It was to that end that he had made his way down to the wher handler apartments in the attempt to at least catch a glance at one of the beasts. Good thing he was a practiced stalker. It had made it absurdly easy to sneak out. Now he was creeping about the place in the hopes of finding a wher pair out for a stroll.

Harmony was upon his shoulder. The chubby gold was watching the goings on with pleasant whirling eyes. Hers had meant to leave her at home but she would have none of it. Her presence was slowly helping him get over his fear of the horrid yellow. But it was slow going. Mostly he just avoided looking at her and she helped by staying out of his line of sight. Maybe they not here? Come back later Mori love? She said in a sweet tone meant only for him.

Before he could respond to his pet the candidate heard a cry and the next minute something was hurtling itself at him from the dark jungle. Giving a strangled cry Darmori actually flailed. The gold upon his shoulder screeched in fury and flung open her over large wings just as hers started to fall. The force of the tackle flung the gold free and the wind did the rest. With her overlarge wings maneuvering was near impossible and with a horrified creel the wind carried the mandyr up, up, and towards the jungle. Mori help! Please help angel. Is scared. Help no want go! She cried to no avail as she was carried out of sight, broadcasting the whole way. Normally she was a mandyr of few words but the horrid wind had gotten her again and she needed help. Oh why oh why had she flared those horrible wings. Her love would save her right?

It took Darmori a minute or two to figure out what had gone on. “Let me go! I wasn’t doing anything I shouldn’t. I’m no thief.” The boy protested squirming against the cloaked figure. Harmony’s cry only caused him to struggle more. “Oh no. Mony! Honey I’m coming hold on.” The candidate started to really struggle against the figure then. “Let me go! I have to go rescue Mony. Something will eat her. This is all your fault. Let me up!” He yelled at Quintrell for the moment not noticing the wher. “Oh no. Oh no. My poor angel.”

[rii]

Oh.. dear. That couldn't be good. Guru curled more tightly against the neck of his as he listened to the young gold cry for help. Mentally he sent a strong disapproval to Quintrell. Great, now they were going to get it. She was going to squawk up a storm and then they'd be hear scolding from all sides. Just great.

Quintrell rolled away from one of Darmori's pushes, more because it amused him than really being dislodged from his catch. The grin was wide, flashing teeth but the thief did well to keep back the laughter bubbling up in the back of his throat. He threw back his hood with a dramatic sweep of arm to expose his head of platinum blonde hair – almost appearing bone white under the moon's light.

"If yer no pick-pocket, n' not bonded to a wher, then yer breakin' curfew. That's something ya shouldn't be doin'!" He voiced merrily with an accusing point of finger. Albeit, Darmori seemed intent on scrambling in the direction of where the yellow wingy had blown.

Quintresk, having no part in his bonded's antics, had silently padded after the small heat signal of the gold salamandyr falling into the trees. He picked his way around the vegetation, eyes the barest glow of blue in the light as he came upon the tiny creature. Saying nothing the dark brown lowered his muzzle an inch above her form before he deeply inhaled her unfamiliar scent.

Gosh, the kid really was throwing a right fit. The grin dimmed a notch and Quintrell wrinkled his nose at the younger boy. "Ye cry baby, stop fussin'." Big one should eat. Maybe no one hear yet. Then no one know. Quintrell chuckled at the not-so-private imput from his bronze salamandyr. "Doesn't that mean someone would have to eat the kid too?" Is snack size. Big one hungry yes?

If Quintresk could have rolled his eyes he might have... entertained the idea of the action. He lightly snorted before licking the little gold in an attempt to comfort her. His bonded, however, was already sprinting toward them in some sort of gave to make the other human nervous that he was going to eat the little gold. People were ridiculous. His more so than any other.

[Requiem]

Quintresk wasn't the only wher who had noticed something out of place in the jungle - though how any in the vicinity could have missed the terrified squeaking was anyone's guess - and the silent lope of the blue was followed by the ever-growing harper bonded to him. The quiet stream of comments from Dementia might give some clue as to why they were moving at an elevated speed. Ugly come our trees. Get out, get out, not welcome. Get ugly out, harperlove? Hurry, quick quick. Dementia no like uglies Dementia's trees, make tress ugly place. Hurry. "We are," he murmured to the anxious thing on his shoulder, doing a fair job of shielding his amusement from her. The words sounded one way, but he could feel her concern rippling behind them. Silly salamandyr. Still not admitting that the gold wasn't an ugly, and yet she wanted to protect her. Silly, silly salamandyr.

Dmisk slowed up as he noted that another wher was approaching - no, had reached the spot where the wind had finally deposited the other little annoyance. It was vaguely familiar, but strange. Yes, strange in the sense that he hadn't caught this heat signature, this scent, in awhile. Oh. Quintresk. The male was silently pleased at that realization, though he didn't choose to share the pleasure with anyone. It was ever so bothersome to be the only wher with much in the way of sense in their apartments, after all. Quintresk at least was a logical creature.

Slipping through the trees, he emerged into the small area where the larger brown - though Dmisk actually might have a little mass on him, given the blue's very solid build - was nosing at the salamandyr. Dmitri slowed his approach, even as Dementia commented, Ugly give harperlove, give before forest taint, she urged the wher...or commanded, really, though there was the tinyiest hint of a request in the tone. A very very miniscule hint. Harmony. No spread wings, wind carry far, get lost, get etted. Silly silly. Then, realizing that sounded entirely too motherly, she flared her frill, puffing up. Dementia forest. No want ugly etted, make ugly ghost, ghost haunt forest, attract more uglies.

Dmitri rolled his eyes, hoping that the little salamandyr would be smart enough to sift through things and not get even more upset. Stubborn, prideful little beast, Dementia was. Though he had to wonder where she'd learned Harmony's name, cause he sure hadn't known it until she said it just a moment ago. "It's all right, Harmony...that sounds like Yours is coming. Probably Quintresk's too." Sounded like a bit too much noise for just one person - not something he would have noticed if he wasn't using Dmisk's senses, but it had gotten to the point where he didn't even notice where his stopped and Dmisk's began most of the time now. "You're safe."

He turned slightly to face the incoming males, the moonlight glinting off his right side and turning the spiderwebbing burn scars into something that shone like muted pale silver along the right half of his face. His right hand found his pocket, even as he leaned against Dmisk idly, who had cocked his head in silent questioning at Quintresk. Where had the brown been all this time?

[Rei]

Darmori sprang to his feet as Quintrell rolled away from him. He turned to regard the cloaked figure with both distaste and curiosity. What was this guys problem? Who all out tackled someone in the middle of the night? This maniac was just lucky that he wasn’t the fighting type. The candidate scrunched is nose up in distaste. He needed to find harmony badly he could tell she was scared and the last thing he wanted was her to get eaten. No matter what color she was he loved her and she loved him. Oh he was a horrible owner sometimes. Thoughts of that nature where pushed aside as the man reveled himself to Darmori and the candidate feel silent his eyes going immediately from the figure’s face to his hair. It looked real pretty in the moonlight. Almost white. Wait what?

The teen put his hands up and shook his head violently. “Yeah I am breaking curfew but I needed to! If I didn’t I’d never get to see a wher. The dragon candidates have lots more opportunities than us wher candidates do. I just wanted to see a wher is all. I’m not up to anything.” He stilled his head, his blue eyes fixing themselves on the forest as he felt a pulse of fear from Harmony.

The little gold had righted herself after managing to catch a branch in one of the trees. Anchoring herself firmly she clasped her wings tight and made her way slowly down towards the forest floor. Once there she nervously looked around and flattened herself to the ground in an attempt to make herself look tiny. See she was little. Not worth eating. Her head shot up at a noise, her eyes a nervous yellow. The spines behind her head flared out as the wher appeared and she looked up at him in anxiousness as he drew closer. Not food. Name is Harmony. She stated to the big brown as he drew closer and then lowered his head to sniff. Oh please don’t eat her.

“I’m not a cry baby. If you lost your mandyr you’d be just as upset!” He shot back and then paled as the bronze on the kids shoulder commented about something eating his gold. Wait big one? Finally it occurred to Darmori that his guy was a handler. So the big one must refer to his wher. They wouldn’t really eat them both would they? Of course not….still when Quintrell took off towards the jungle the candidate gave a cry and sprinted after him. No no no no. Please not Harmony. He wasn’t sure how he could stop the wher if it did decide to eat her.

Harmony just looked up at the wher as he suddenly licked her. Her eyes lost some of their yellow color and she chirped once sweetly. Nice big brown. Her attention was grabbed by the appearance of another of the lumbering ones and she chirped again moving to waddle closer to Quintesk. He was the current safe one. Dementia’s voice made Harmony trill. She recognized that voice! It was her dam. But wait the other gold didn’t like her. The trill died off at that thought but she tentatively crooned as Dementia continued. No want eeted. Remember not spread wings. She said softly her eyes going from yellow back to green. The other comments where largely ignored even if the other gold did drop her head in a gesture of upset. But she wasn’t an ugly. Not ugly. She stated quietly to the whers as if they would believe her. To Dmitri she crooned pleasantly. Thank you muchly. She said brightly. Mori thank to yes?

Just at that moment hers broke into the clearing behind Quintrell and she gave a happy call before waddling towards him at as fast a pace as her chubby body was able. Mori! Find Mony! Love you angel does. Darmori fell to his knees as the gold approached and scooped her up, hugging her against this chest and kissing her head. “Oh angel don’t you do that again. You nearly gave me a heart attack.” It was about that time that he noticed the other handler and he blinked before getting to his feet.

With Harmony safely in his arms he was able to better think. “Oh hi again.” He remembered the tall guy from the hatching even if he didn’t remember the name. His gold was Harmony’s mother. Although his Dementia had been so mean to his little angel at her hatching. He scuffed his bare feet in the dirt before looking from one handler to the other. Now what? Whers? Harmony offered quietly. Wasn’t that what they had come for in the first place?

[rii]

Quintresk's head turned briefly to view the approaching blue and his musicemaker, his attention then went down to the little gold trying to edge behind his leg for safety. Not ugly, she said, and Quintresk felt amused by the salamandyr's effort to convince a wher that she wasn't ugly. The brown knew well enough of how outsiders viewed them. Ugly, lesser versions of dragons. His own response to the gold's worry was just another warm snort at her tiny body.

A set of varying images and scents were shared with Dmisk, of where he had been, and each one touched with the restlessness his felt being in one place too long. At the end came the faint acknowledgment of Dmisk's burn scars and a questioning of what had happened at the weyr while he had been absent.

Quintrell burst into the area, maniacal grin on his fast as Damori pedaled in right after him, crumbling to knees to reunite with the gold. His dark eyes rolled, how dramatic. So precious. Indeed. "Jeez kid. Ya act like she's been lost a fort night." The blonde bounced over to his large brown while peering curiously at the blue wherhandler (he already knew who it was, but trell was always one for putting on a show). Burned face, cut hair – looked a helluva lot different than the last time he really saw Dmitri; going at it with Yoalla on the dinner hall tables.

"Dmiiitri – shards what happened to your face?" So eloquent, and it was apparent the thief meant it to sound that way when he went on without waiting for a response. "Caught this little pinch thief trying to sneak into Yoalla's quarters to knick her undergarments. Didn't wanna break his heart n'tell him she probably doesn't wear any."

[Requiem]

Dementia, apparently content that her very plump and and confused daughter had been straightened out - and determined now to ignore her as she would any firelizard - the salamanydr slipped up to a position along the graceful line of the harper's neck, her limbs splayed there as she watched the interaction taking place between all the creatures and people. Dmitri stifled a smirk at the thought he gleaned from her regarding how ridiculously, sickeningly sweet the interaction between the 'ugly' and Hers was, not acknowledging the underlying satisfaction that her golden daughter had found a suitable if silly mindmate. Really, Men? He cast a glance at Dmisk, but the blue seemed more interested in greeting his clutchsibling than the issue of mandyrs.

The blue dipped his head, sorting through the images and scents Quintresk sent his way. Some of them were certainly interesting and exotic, he allowed, but he didn't see the allure; there were things of interest right here, with their clutchsiblings, were there not? Dmisk’s response to the inquiry regarding his burn scars was…nothing. He simply regarded Quintresk in mental silence for a good amount of time, then issued a warning that preceded a set of images, sensations, scents that would have been disturbing to most. The moments he remembered best as the flames engulfed him and His and he attempted to turn away from the brunt of it. The Others had left, obviously, without doing too much damage, he concluded, before adding that Quintresk was apparently the smart one. Impossible to tell if that held a note of Dmitri’s sarcasm or not.

“You’re welcome,” Dmitri responded to the gold, before his eyes flicked up to the hurrying candidate who threw himself on his knees before her. An eyebrow raised slightly, but he made no comment. Certainly none like the one Quintrell quipped as he stepped out into the clearing directly after Darmori. The second eyebrow raised to join the first, Dmitri leaning up against Dmisk as he took in the rather eccentric garb of the other wherhandler. (No, it was hardly a surprise to find Quintrell where Quintresk was, though he hadn’t thought to see them again, to be entirely truthful.) “Isn’t it a little hot to be going cloaked?” he questioned dryly, before flashing a half-grin at Darmori. “Hi kid.” Nope, didn’t care if the candidate was older or not. “Keep a better eye on her, will you? Men about had a fit.”

His gaze slid slowly - and just a touch distastefully - back toward Quintrell, eyes narrowed. Oh, that was rich. The kid runs off (not that Dmitri wouldn’t have if Dmisk wasn’t so stubborn - and Eikane and Nautic and possibly Yoalla shard it all - but that was beside the point) then comes back and makes quips about his face. “Fort,” he responded shortly, though Quintrell wasn’t looking for an answer. Too bad. He wrinkled his nose at the brown handler’s next words. “Does anyone?” Casually. Then, glancing sidelong at Darmori, “Is this true, kid? Going on a panty raid?” He tsked softly.

[Rei]

Darmori just glared at Quintrell for his comment and snuggled his mandyr tighter to his chest. Dipping his head she pressed one more kiss to her head. Arm’s crossed and mandyr safely tucked in them his eyes went from handler to handler. They knew each other obviously but there seemed to be some underlying tension.

Twitching slightly he almost jumped as he was accused of underwear stealing of all things. Really? Underwear? Underwear was just disgusting. I mean seriously. Making a face the candidate would have flailed his arms had Harmony not been in them. “That’s gross. Why would I want her underwear? That’s just disgusting.” The gold chirped in confusion not quite sure what exactly was going on. It was okay though because she was with hers. Nuzzling against his chest she turned her head up to regard him. Teasing you Mori. Ignore maybe get tired stop? She offered privately. The boy half smiled in return before glaring at Quintrell. What was his problem anyway.

The moment Dmitri spoke up though Darmori turned his attention completely to him. Nodding he moved Harmony to his shoulder. “Sorry. This bozo tackled me and she got flung free. Her wings did the rest. I didn’t mean to lose her.” He frowned at that but didn’t comment for Harmony had wrapped her tail around his neck and spoke, the words soft. Mori not lose. Accident. Absently she turned her attention to the two whers and nuzzled her bonded’s ear. Wher. See yes? Mori want see wher. Smiling Darmori nodded before giving her head a pat and stepping forward. “No I’m no underwear bandit. I just really wanted to see a wher is all.”

Rubbing the back of his head he looked at Dmitri finding him the more approachable of the two. “I’m a wher candidate. I’ve seen one or two but I guess I have a lot of questions and the candidate master isn’t all that concerned about us. There are only two of us interested in the whers. Everyone else wants a dragon.” He made a face at that. What was so great about dragons? They where huge and scary. So what if they could fly?

[rii]

Quintresk's snout lowered to the ground, sniffing in a mirroring manner as he fully took in the scents and images from Dmisk. It should have startled the brown, but he absorbed the information in an analytical manner. He had an idea of what happened via His, but having the thief's bias opinion only detailed that someone was attacking the weyr and they had to leave to be safe. Yes there had been concern over the safety of his clutchsiblings, but His adamantly refused to go with the others. It had gotten to the point of hysteria before Quintresk decided it was indeed best to go with His and be gone. The brown didn't share any of this information. No apology or excuse for his absence. If any of them were upset that he had been gone, that was their problem, not like it changed the past. His tail tip flicked before he expressed that he was glad that Dmisk, and their clutchsiblings, were alright. Then, after a moment, Quintresk inquired about who had been organizing the whers..

A half-smile was returned to Dmitri for the question of the cloak. Let him think what he will; light blonde hair stuck out horridly in the night and especially when pressed close to Quintresk's dark hide. The cloak was thin enough, dark enough, to mask his thin frame from being notice by anyone – excluding whers. Quintrell shifted his attention back to the kid as he visible ruffled over the playful comments. "Disgusting," Quintrell's repeated, the grin upping a notch. "Girl's knickers ain't your thing? A'ight. Suppose ya meant to duck into Nautic's room instead, eh? Mah mistake."

Bozo – what kind of insult was bozo. Guru flicked his tail, peering out from Quintrell's collar to look in Damori's direction. The thief smirked, eyes darting to the bronze. Why not say that out loud? Guru instantly frilled and a lazily slipped back under the collar. Sooo not worth the effort. Besides, that crazy one was here. He had no desire to deal with her insanity. His's crazy ways were quite enough thank you.

Damori might have approached Dmitri to talk, but as long as Quintrell was still present he was going to make himself part of the conversation. Whether they liked it or not. And he was more than just a little positive it was the or not option. The thief shouldered against his large brown, "Why would ya want to impress a wher? Yer social life so non-existent that you feel it's good idea to give it all up? Nneh, guess it fits if ye like skulking around in the dark like I caught ya.."

[Requiem]

Quintrell wasn't the only one to be amused by Darmori's protests, a little half-grin twitching at Dmitri's lips. Gross? Admittedly, dirty undergarments didn't hold much appeal, but he wouldn't call them gross. The tall wherhandler didn't say anything, however, as Quintrell seemed to be doing an adequate job as far as ribbing the kid was concerned.

He couldn't help it, though; he snorted outright at 'bozo.' "You'll have to forgive Quintrell. He's never around when you want him, but he always manages to turn up when it's least convenient, isn't that right?" The last was directed to the thief, the slight twist to his lips making it hard to tell whether he was teasing or the statement was more serious. Likely both. Dmitri wasn't really trying hard to mask his annoyance at the other wherhandler, though the community of handlers had already grown close enough that he wasn't about to express that openly with an outsider present.

Having not intended to continue any comments that might otherwise be considered scolding toward the candidate, he met the explanation with a mere nod. A wher candidate, hm? That did generate some interest in him, though he didn't know too many people who willfully chose a wher over a dragon. Some intended to attend both hatchings, but few set their hearts on whers and didn't look at dragons at all. Dmitri hadn't intended to Impress anything. Great planning there. "Not too many whers at the apartments this time of night," he stated neutrally, before eyeing Quintrell. "Give it a rest, will you? Not everyone likes dragons or dragonriders, and if you were to stick around you might actually find yourself with a social life. Stop projecting."

Okay, so maybe he wasn't being all that subtle about it. But still, Quintrell had cut and run. While everyone else, even Nautic, sucked it up, he'd fled. Why he was mocking anyone else was beyond Dmitri. (So maybe he was just a bit bitter.)

Dmisk's head swiveled in the general direction of the other whers - the ones close enough to sense moving in the night. During that day, it had been Pidesk's and one of the bronze dragonriders, he responded neutrally. Since then, no word. No more was happening than before, though you'd think the other whers would realize the need now if they hadn't before. He was growing tired of waiting on the shiny ones to finally take the initiative - and antsy. They were wasting too much time. Catching Dmitri's look, Dmisk excused himself from the conversation long enough to pad over directly next to His, regarding Darmori placidly.

"He's not very personable, but he won't bite," Dmitri offered. "What were these questions of yours?"

[Rei]

Darmori heard Quintrell well enough but he was totally okay with dropping the topic of underwear. What was with that guy? He gave the cloaked figure a annoyed look as he butted into his started conversation. That guy just had to be the center of attention didn’t he? Harmony trilled sweetly from upon his shoulder at Quintrell but didn’t speak to him. Or hers for that matter either. He would learn. Silly hers. The candidate snorted at Quintrell and was about to comment when Dmitri took over for him. It seemed as if the other handler wasn’t to happy with the brownhandler either. Or maybe he was just as annoyed? Trying to work it out would be more trouble than it was worth so Darmori quickly dropped the thought. Not worth getting involved when it had nothing to do with him.

Instead he focused on the taller man and gave Quintrell a look as Dmitri apologized for him. Ha now he knew the guys name at least, Quintrell. The blue handler was right though. Not everyone wanted a dragon. A lot of people yes. But not everyone. Not him. His attention went back to the bluehandler as Dmisk approached. “Uh okay. There’s a lot of them though.” He stepped forward and offered his hand for the wher to sniff. “Hi there buddy.” Without fear he reached over to stroke the blue’s nose. His handler had said he didn’t bite, so that was good enough for Darmori. Smiling he looked back at Dmitri. “Well I’ve got a lot of normal questions. Like. What’s a hatching like? How much do they eat? How much light can they stand? Tons of stuff. The Candidatemaster seems more interested in the dragon candidates. Guess I can’t blame him considering this is a weyr. But it’s real annoying.”

Harmony just regarded the whers and their handlers with a placid green gaze. Opening her mouth in a yawn she half lidded her eyes. It was late and she was still used to be being awake during the day. Darmori removed his hand from Dmisk with a final pat and then stuck it in his pocket. “Yeah I know it’s a lot of questions but I guess I just want to be well informed.” He raised his hand and rubbed the back of his head. “Uh It just occurred to me that I’ve been horribly rude.” Giving a sheepish grin the candidate extended his hand. “The names Darmori and uh yeah I guess you already know Harmony.” The gold gave a soft croon. Good meet you.

[rii]

A brow half-rose at Dmitri's little outburst. Aw, poor harper. Quintrell directed his grin at the tall wherhandler. The guy didn't know a sharding thing about him, and the thief wasn't about to correct anything said. Seemed he wasn't the one projecting. Amused, Quintrell gave a dramatic sigh and sank back against Quintresk's side. "Yea. Dun place any faith in me kiddo, tell ya right now.. you get any stupid ideas about huddling everyone together so the enemy can pick ye off slowly and at their leisure – go fuck yerself. I ain't dying 'cause someone feels it's the right thing ta do~"

His foot found Quintresk's bent joint and used the spot to hoisted himself onto the brown wher's back with a practiced ease. The thief rolled his eyes at the plethora of questions spilling from Darmori, then the kids going to far as to kiss the harper's scrawny arse. Albeit, they were both little goldie owners, so they could get buddy-buddy all they wanted. "Ye have fun playing teacher. Poor Roivao, getting pushed out of the job yet again."

His fingertips drew featherlight down Quintresk's neck. The brown flicked his tail before excusing himself. He and Dmisk would talk later, for now he mentioned wanting to patrol the full stretch of the weyr to see what else had changed during his absence. He turned, sinuous body smoothly curving around before he slipped out into the darkness at an even gait.

[Requiem]

Quintrell's response drew a visible flinch from Dmitri, his lip rising briefly in a silent snarl. Direct hit, that one...whether Quintrell meant it that way or not. Much as Dmitri liked to think himself past the events that had left him scarred on fully one half of his body, forcing him to relearn everything lefthanded...the bitterness was choking him with this reminder. Partially because the brownhandler was right. It was stupid to have ever gone. Much as he'd like to blame the leadership for the orders to begin with, he could have done just as the brownpair had. So whose fault was it, then? Dmisk pressed into his thigh, the familiar icy chill of his mind soothing. They couldn't leave their clutchsisters, just as Quintresk couldn't leave His. Everyone had to do what they must. There was a touch of apology there, though, one that had Dmitri wrapping an arm around the blue's neck. No, it wasn't Dmisk's fault. Much as he might wish to claim otherwise...even if Dmisk hadn't insisted, Dmitri would have grudgingly gone. He couldn't leave people. The cold bluepair wasn't so heartless as most assumed. Much to both their chagrine.

Quintrell and Quintresk were allowed their exit without comment, Dmisk giving his brother a silent farewell. Dmitri ignored Quintrell's words entirely. (Not that he didn't agree with them - again. All of these questions would be answered in lessons, and weren't necessary to know for anyone who hadn't Impressed yet.) Dmisk was very patiently enduring the touch of the candidate, and only because he was still pressed against His. He didn't like touch not at all not at all. There was a definite wildness to the blue who would not settle for just any handler, who would have willingly followed his dam out into the wilds had he not found the right mind. And that wildness did not like touch.

"Dmitri. This is Dmisk, and you already know Dementia." The gold currently still ignoring the pair as if they didn't exist. "To be honest, Darmori, none of those things are things you'd really need to know before Impressing. Whers are nocturnal, a good deal more wild than dragons. They take care of themselves, mostly. Some bond closer than others, their ability to deal with light varies depending on how much wild blood they have, and the only thing I can really think of that you should know is whers blood their handlers. And take their names. Take Quintrell and Quintresk...their names being so close means they're bonded really close. Dmisk and I share a pretty normal bond, then Roisk and Roivao and Yoalla and Yosk have less of a bond. If that makes any sense. Also...whers are more violent when they hatch. Most of the handlers in my class were hurt by one or the other." Dmisk had hurt two before turning to Dmitri, actually. Tch.

"There's no real way to describe it before you experience it, though." He shifted a little awkwardly, still touching Dmisk. "Does that help any?"

[Rei]

Darmori turned his attention from Dmisk as Dmitri started speaking. His full attention going to the handler instead. He found himself nodding as the taller teen spoke. That was more information that he had gotten currently for sure. Even if he didn’t need to know it, he certainly wanted to. He would have just taken a trip to the archives if he could read. But he couldn’t so any information he got had to come though word of mouth.

Harmony gave a yawn and curled about Darmori’s neck. Nitenite Mori. Nite Mentia, Dmitri, Misk. She said with a soft sweet tone as she tucked her head against her bonded’s neck and swiftly feel into a deep sleep. Chuckling Darmori adjusted her before responding to the handler. “Yeah. It actually helps a bit.” He frowned and rubbed his head. “I uh have seen whers before but I know nest to nothing about them. Besides rumors. The Candidatemaster gave us stuff to read. Notes and the like but uh I can’t read.” He made a face. “So I just thought a trip out here tonight would be an easier way to learn a bit about whers.”

Meeting Quintrell and losing Harmony had not been on his things to do list. But nothing bad had come of it so it was okay. He even got to meet Dmitri. See not such a bad idea after all. He smiled at that thought and turned his attention back to the blue wher. He didnlt move to touch him this time however. The nervousness had been noted and the teen couldn't help but compare the wher to the slightly feral canines that hung around the kitchens.

“When the Benden siege happened I was lead to safety by a group of whers. Ever since I saw them I’ve been really interested. I don’t like dragons. They scare me and I hate heights besides. I think the whers are lovely and I’ve always been something of a night owl so I guess that’s why I decided to try to be a wher candidate.” Darmori shifted. “Can’t say I like the idea of being hurt, but well if it’s to be I guess it’s to be.” Shrugging he gave a half smile to Dmitri. “Thanks. Would you mind if I hung around a bit just to watch? I won’t be a bother I promise.”

[Requiem]

"Good night, Harmony." Dementia merely huffed tempramentally, resettling her wings. She didn't talk to uglies. (Except when she did, but who could argue with a gold?) Dmisk didn't respond either, though it certainly had nothing to do with disdain; he wasn't given to talking much unless he had to, and courtesy to anything but shiny whers and possibly shiny dragons was, of course, unnecessary.

Dmitri regarded Darmori for a long moment. "That's something you're going to need to work on sometime, kid." He rubbed lightly at the bridge of his nose. "If you do happen to Impress out of this coming wher clutch...Eikane and I are both harpers. Feel free to use that. He's usually easier to get ahold of than me, though." Which was true enough. Dmitri had a steadily expanding base of responsibility and contacts, while Eikane was remarkably withdrawn for someone who made a profession out of networking.

Now that was something he hadn't heard in quite awhile. Lovely whers. Although...both Dmisk and Quintresk were decidedly more aesthetic than most of their siblings and cousins. Built more streamlined, less blocky and awkward. Dmisk, in Dmitri's not so humble opinion, was the perfect specimen of a wher. Tapered snout, powerful form, wings long enough to support a sustained glide, not quite too bulky. Yes. Only the color, really...as it tended to stand out a bit. He mirrored Darmori's shrug. "If that's what you want. Dmisk is going to need to hunt tonight, though, and he won't be too pleased if you ruin it for him," he warned dismissively.

Darmori could choose to come along at his own risk; Dmisk expressed his displeasure just as...precisely...as he did everything else.