Post by Requiem on Dec 29, 2013 18:52:14 GMT -5
Sweet Yosk, do you still protest a kidnapping?
The silent, ghostly founder of the Sentinel that still proceeded strongly in his absence revealed himself by stepping from the trees. The images that comprised Dmisk's typical emotionless speech were just as precise as ever. It was an honest question, though he knew the answer, ritual that it was. Nor did he resent his clutchsister for choosing to maintain the separation. He would have stayed, too, had he the choice. As would Eikask. As would Nautsk. That didn't change the fact that his new "home" in the Hold felt incomplete without this last of his clutchsiblings. This sweetest of his clutchsiblings. But why should she leave her territory and the blue one, yes? Even Dmisk had to approve of Swisk; the blue made Yosk happy.
It seemed that nearly ten turns as a wherhandler could make even the most obnoxious brat something of a hunter. Minus the hunting part. Dmitri and Dmisk had both approached the greenpair downwind and silent as death. Dmitri was here for the twins currently staying with their grandparents (Elysia liked to steal them on occasion) and Dmisk had taken the opportunity to probe the defenses of the Sentinel he'd left to...well, Yosk, really. Dmisk didn't really trust most whers with his territory. Of his clutchsisters, Yosk was really the only one he might have trusted with it anyway. Quintresk would have been his choice, turns ago. He still remembered and missed his brown clutchbrother. On occasion.
The heavily scarred blue (ironically enough the scars were from tangles with supposedly "friendly" dragons rather than the whers or felines Dmisk usually challenged) touched his muzzle to Yosk's haunch briefly in greeting. He made exceptions he otherwise wouldn't when it came to his clutchsisters, to include physical affection, however minimal. Keeping the silly daylighters safe from the carnivorous deer? the blue questioned. Though no tone betrayed his disdain for the "nightmare beasts" around this Weyr, the words no doubt sufficed.
Dementia was back at Selenitas Hold with Dmitri's pregnant (again!) wife, the gold having taken it upon herself to make sure "dogface" was a good surrogate and didn't hurt Dementia's clutch. Though mention of the Devil had almost been enough to change her mind. Almost. "Sup shrimp?" Eloquence, thy name is Dmitri. He smiled his characteristic lopsided half-smile at the greenhandler. The nearly 7-foot giant towered over his fellow wherhandler. He considered Yoalla a friend, even if she had threatened to turn him into a human candle again. On multiple occasions. Even with the scarring, Dmitri now resembled a young S'rei so much it was ridiculous. No one would ever doubt his parentage. "You lose points, letting us sneak up on you, you know."
The silent, ghostly founder of the Sentinel that still proceeded strongly in his absence revealed himself by stepping from the trees. The images that comprised Dmisk's typical emotionless speech were just as precise as ever. It was an honest question, though he knew the answer, ritual that it was. Nor did he resent his clutchsister for choosing to maintain the separation. He would have stayed, too, had he the choice. As would Eikask. As would Nautsk. That didn't change the fact that his new "home" in the Hold felt incomplete without this last of his clutchsiblings. This sweetest of his clutchsiblings. But why should she leave her territory and the blue one, yes? Even Dmisk had to approve of Swisk; the blue made Yosk happy.
It seemed that nearly ten turns as a wherhandler could make even the most obnoxious brat something of a hunter. Minus the hunting part. Dmitri and Dmisk had both approached the greenpair downwind and silent as death. Dmitri was here for the twins currently staying with their grandparents (Elysia liked to steal them on occasion) and Dmisk had taken the opportunity to probe the defenses of the Sentinel he'd left to...well, Yosk, really. Dmisk didn't really trust most whers with his territory. Of his clutchsisters, Yosk was really the only one he might have trusted with it anyway. Quintresk would have been his choice, turns ago. He still remembered and missed his brown clutchbrother. On occasion.
The heavily scarred blue (ironically enough the scars were from tangles with supposedly "friendly" dragons rather than the whers or felines Dmisk usually challenged) touched his muzzle to Yosk's haunch briefly in greeting. He made exceptions he otherwise wouldn't when it came to his clutchsisters, to include physical affection, however minimal. Keeping the silly daylighters safe from the carnivorous deer? the blue questioned. Though no tone betrayed his disdain for the "nightmare beasts" around this Weyr, the words no doubt sufficed.
Dementia was back at Selenitas Hold with Dmitri's pregnant (again!) wife, the gold having taken it upon herself to make sure "dogface" was a good surrogate and didn't hurt Dementia's clutch. Though mention of the Devil had almost been enough to change her mind. Almost. "Sup shrimp?" Eloquence, thy name is Dmitri. He smiled his characteristic lopsided half-smile at the greenhandler. The nearly 7-foot giant towered over his fellow wherhandler. He considered Yoalla a friend, even if she had threatened to turn him into a human candle again. On multiple occasions. Even with the scarring, Dmitri now resembled a young S'rei so much it was ridiculous. No one would ever doubt his parentage. "You lose points, letting us sneak up on you, you know."
