misinterpretation [july chores//open]

[Avu]

Of all the chores, kitchen duty was the one that Rusa abhorred the most. Usually, anyway. Usually, he hated the thick, hot air and the tantalizing smells that he simply could not get to, the sharp metallic clang of plates and forks and spoons and knives, the impatience of the Drudges, the crowded conditions, being buffeted around and typically emerging with some kind of sauce or soup or something that stained cloth smeared all down one’s front courtesy of the an overeager Drudge or something. Usually, Rusa emerged from the kitchens in a downright horrible mood. The kind of mood that made him prone to snapping, irascible, and liable to jump down someone’s throat should they look at him wrong; the kind of mood that made him a prime target for being teased because his reaction (which usually would probably involve a sardonic smile and nothing more) would end up being an incredibly explosive one – so, all in all, Rusa dreaded kitchen duty. He’d done it before. That made him no more fond of it, however, and it was with slow, dragging footsteps that he made his way to the kitchens to report for his chores –

Where he’d brightened noticeably as he read down the list of activities that counted as chores.

After introducing himself to the Headwoman and explaining his being there to do chores, Rusa had slipped off. Since he wore no knots to mark him as a Candidate, nobody stopped him as he went about doing chores: Preparing food. A pity, really, that nobody had specified for whom he was supposed to be preparing food for – or the fact that he was not, indeed, supposed to eat it on the spot but instead was supposed to deliver it to those dining. A pity they had not, because Rusa was definitely from one of the Holds and therefore incredibly confused by this new concept of preparing foods. Yes. Yes, he was. He didn’t actually eat it, though. The first food he’d (for lack of a better word) prepared was roast wherry. To be more precise, he’d sliced off a piece, and fed it to Sylph even as he wandered around with a single tuber in his hand to make it look like he was actually doing something. Which he wasn’t.

After awhile, he’d gotten bored of wandering around (and Sylph finished her meal and promptly curled up to sleep tucked over his right ear) and had retrieved a broom, which he curled one arm around while he found himself something to eat. Hey, he was hungry; it was hard work wandering around! He’d done chores, he had; he’d prepared food. He still was preparing food. Rusa bowed his head over the sandwich he was making, tilted his head to examine its thickness, and then after a moment of contemplation, added another slice of roast wherry before, content with the size of the sandwich, propped the broom against the counter and left it there to sit next to the fire, thusly fulfilling another of the chores: Tending the fire. Nobody had said he couldn’t stuff his face while he did it, had they now? And that, therefore, gave him complete permission to do exactly that. Why shouldn’t he? Rusa leaned forward to jab at the wood, glowing with flames, with the metal poker, and then leaned back to take another bite out of his sandwich.

Warm is, noted Sylph, the little green yawning and poking her head through the dark hair that concealed her. Why? And then, as she looked down at Rusa’s hand (complete with half-eaten sandwich and poker) the Salamandyr crooned, and then left her hiding spot to slid lithely down his shoulder and chest to his hand, where she nosed at the poker, and then took a large (for her, which meant absolutely miniscule for Rusa) bite out of his sandwich. Unfortunately for her, it included sauce. The sauce was kind of sticky, and Sylph had gotten quite the mouthful of it. She tried to swallow. And tried again. And again. And then she squeaked, wings fanning out in protest as she tried again. Stuck mouth is, Ruuuuusaaaaa, she wailed. Rusa looked down at her – he’d just looked up to eye the fire again and wonder how long it could go before it jumped out of the fireplace – and burst into laughter.

Sandwich bad is, Sylph protested avidly, flapping her wings again and squirming as she swallowed insistently at the mouthful. Mean is very – Ruuusaaaa. Stop make it make stop!

The only answer forthcoming was for Rusa to lift the sandwich up to his face and take a bite out of it – defiantly. It was not a bad sandwich, thank you very much!

[dragon]

Scurrying along at a phenominal rate, Skink had places to go! And she aimed to get there. Despite her incredibly short legs, the teensy green mandyr was cooking it across the ground. Kicking up leaves in her wake and everything, she shot almost too fast to be seen. Zipping back and forth, dodging legs and feet and ... twigs ... Skink made time.

Bounding like a thing made of rubber, Skink even flipped mid air a few times as she went up or down steps. But she always made her landings on her feet before zooming off again, little wings or frills flashing occassionally to help her stay balanced or manipulate her little body through her bounds.

Finally she reached her destination. Back to her birthplace, back to her sister-mandyr. Who was in dire need of help!!

Pretty sister mine, lovelove, Skink help! Skink help! Skink announced loudly, frill flaring as she snaked around Rusa's leg up to where Slyph was smacking her mouth. Coming to a dramatic halt, Skink bounced her front end once, before practically launching at her sister.

Skink grabbed a hold of Slyph by her neck and head with her front feet, and then started busily licking away at the other mandyr's mouth, starting from the outside in cleaning off the mess she'd gotten stuck in her mouth. Open open Skink ordered. Skink help. Skink free Sylph! Bad sammich! Bad bad ... bad Rusa!

[Avu]

He adored Sylph. Rusa really did. He’d do anything for the green Salamandyr: Lie for her, steal for her, kill for her – he’d do absolutely anything within his power. The Candidate had already lied for her after she’d managed to get her claws on some paper right in front of a sleeping firelizard’s nose, leaving the evidence in fluttering shreds behind, draped nicely over the firelizard in question – said firelizard, apparently, had woken up briefly (and had not cared) and caught sight of her, and an appropriately furious owner had raged at Rusa – to which he’d staunchly defended Sylph, insisting she’d been with him the entire day, and why on Pern would she want to shred papers? Was the woman touched in the head? – etcetera; he’d gotten her off the hook in the end and managed to wrangle in an apology to boot. The woman probably thought her firelizard was a liar now, but whatever: Well worth it – it was Sylph. The mere mention of the green Salamandyr was enough to make Rusa preen inwardly.

Unfortunately, this was one dilemma that he simply could not help in. Not only was the Candidate unable to stifle the laughter, but Sylph was about the length of his forefinger, not yet completely done with her growing. He didn’t have anything in hand but the oh-so-cruel sandwich and a metal poker, and he could hardly use those to clear out the Salamandyr’s mouth – and neither could he use his fingertip; it was simply too big and Sylph was simply too small. Maybe he’d get a fork or something, but chances were by the time he’d gotten one, Sylph would already have managed to swallow anyway. It was just the sauce that had been smeared on the roast wherry – he’d scraped it off on Sylph’s share – so it wasn’t bad for her, and from what he could tell, she was simply having trouble getting rid of all of it. Possibly it layered her tongue, but she could still breathe just fine.

Miiiiine, wailed the green, looking much-abused – and then, as Skink skittered up Rusa’s leg, Sylph uttered a kind of thick croon through the mouthful, flapping her wings, not in agitation but in greeting to her sister, managing to warble pleasantly – though the sound was almost sticky, if that was even possible. Sister Skink best is, help Rusa isn’t, the green cooed mentally; at least she had not been deprived of her ability to communicate mentally. She obediently opened her mouth, freezing in place. She moved not a muscle, tongue draping comically out of her mouth to keep out of Skink’s way, as the other green rescued her from that nasty stickiness, though she did keep talking mentally, adding to Skink’s scolding of Rusa’s innocent-looking sandwich. Mean is sandwich very, she agreed, rolling her eyes to eye said sandwich suspiciously. Rusa took a bite of it to stifle the hysterical laughter. Rusa no eat! Stick, mouth will! Sylph warned, still unable to move – if she’d been able to, the green would have bounced to emphasize her point.

As soon as he could stop laughing, Rusa stuffed the last of the sandwich into his mouth, curling his hands around the two Salamandyrs to keep people from seeing them and demanding they be thrown out of the kitchens or something equally silly. “Sorry,” he offered to both of the greens. He always spoke to them as if they were humans; they were certainly intelligent enough, as far as he was concerned. “I didn’t make the sandwich for Sylph. I’ll make sure I leave off the sauce next time in case she wants a bite, though. Next time…” He tilted his head sideways, and then glanced around the kitchen before he dropped his attention back to the two. “Where’s your pet, hmm? Do you want food, by the way…? I’ll make sure there’s nothing sticky on it. Sylph’s just eaten, greedy little thing…I could get you some and claim it was for chores, I’m preparing food…” He nodded absently, raising one hand to lick the remnants of sauce off of his fingers, and then bowed his head to the pair again, watching Skink’s progress. “Of course, I guess you’re liable to get full just rescuing Syl, but just let me know if you want roast wherry or something, okay…?”

Pfft. Shells if he trusted Emoyan to feed his little pet. Rusa was very fond of both of them. Sylph, of course, held his heart, and Skink would never quite compare, but Rusa…liked Salamandyrs. All of them, any of them. Sasheen’s Panache, Anusha’s Akos, Anz’s Sprite (though he’d never really gotten an introduction; that was okay!) – Skink was hardly an exception just because he disliked the green’s Bonded. Indeed, she was perhaps his second favorite of all of the Salamandyrs he’d met thus far (with, of course, Sylph being his absolute favorite) because Sylph liked her so much.

[dragon]

Skink licked industriously, all over the oustides of Sylph's face and then starting on the inside of her mouth. She carefully licked Sylph's teeth all carefully cleen, even making sure to get between the lips and gums, before moving on and cleaning the deeper areas with quick darts of her tongue. Taste funny, Sylph mouth does. Food? Food good. Skink want food, yes. Food always good. Good Rusa. Good Sylphpet. No sammiches. No sticky mouthglue! Skink clarified, talking away even as she washed Sylph's mouth out as completely as she could manage. Smacking her own jaws for a moment and licking her own snout, Skink scooted backwards and flashed her frill for a moment. Better yes? No better, Skink clean 'gain. Some better? She asked of her sister mandyr.

Preparing food. Preparing food. Skink help? Prepare food all over, on every body. Stiky. Stiky every body. Prepare food this way, yes? Skink asked, with a decidedly evil glint in her eye. She didn't quite understand what preparing food meant, but she had her own notions, after seeing what prepared food did to Sylph! Prepare Rusa? She offered, generously.

[glamourie]

Whiiiiiine.

The problem with taking inventory (as per assignment of the archivist) was that it was excessively boring. No matter how often he did it, he just could not find a fun way to take inventory. His assignment in particular was to find out the amount of extras in use in the kitchen - for example, how many bushels of wheat were left, barrels of fruit from nearby, and any other stores that they had left. He always got stuck with that assignment, too, primarily because he tended to make too much noise in the archives. ‘Sing while you work’ was apparently not a philosophy that most of the Weyr appreciated, much to his displeasure. The Archives in particular were adverse to his incessant cheer. Thus it was that he got shoved off on any responsibility to get him out of the room. Any. But it always seemed to be ‘Take inventory!’ that he got yelled at him. Unfortunately enough.

Nevertheless, he felt quite satisfied as he made his way into the kitchens with his roll of parchment in hand, ready to take notes. Part of his satisfaction had to do with the little creature, barely visible from beneath the mess of his chin length blond hair. A small yellow-green nose peeked out, but it matched completely with the electric green of his shirt and the white pants that he wore. He was a burst of fresh color - arguably blinding, but certainly not easily overlooked.

Sprite was very shy. Unlike Anzalorin who made friends easily, she was quite frightened of strangers. She trusted lovehers to keep her safe, but that didn’t change how scary people she didn’t know were. Fortunately, he had a lot of hair. That made him perfect to hide on. Hers was really the best. He took good care of her, he did, and she loved him endlessly for it. He oiled her, even behind her frill, and he never told her that she was ugly. ‘Beautiful’ he called her regularly, and even though she didn’t think that it was true (even fire lizards seemed to think she was unpleasant to look at), she was flattered at his kindness. And he fed her, always whatever she was interested in, without fail. He never seemed to mind giving her anything, or caring for her. He never hesitated or seemed even slightly reluctant. He loved her, just for her, and she would do anything for him because of it. He was the best human. And if he had to go to the place where she hatched, she would go with him, even if it meant being around the scaries. Because she loved him, she did.

Anz shuffled into the kitchens, looked through his list, and heard. Heard speaking that he recognized, in fact. Glancing over onto his shoulder where the bright nose peeked out, he grinned widely.

“I think I hear your sisters,” he said softly, and Sprite scurried to the back of his neck, hiding. She was afraid -- not of Anz, but of anyone else. Whoever her sisters were talking to. And also of her sisters. They were so pretty, and she was so… so not. “Don’t be afraid - I don’t think Skink and Sylph have any problem with you, and I’d never let anyone hurt you, Sprite. You know that.” The slight reassurance he received came in a quiet click and he grinned before reaching up to tug her from his hair with one hand. “Come on. You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of, gorgeous. You know I love you, and I’d never let anyone hurt you.”

That satisfied her, and Anz turned to walk up behind Rusa. From the back he couldn’t see what the other candidate was doing, but that was okay. He leaned forward and tapped his shoulder with one hand, while Sprite curled up between his fingers of the other - trying her best to hide without scampering up his sleeve no doubt. His head cocked to the side and he peeked over Rusa’s shoulder to see the two salamandyrs in his hands before grinning widely. “A matching pair, Sylph and Skink are. What’s she doing so far from Emoyan…?”

Skink comes before Sylph, Sprite said helpfully while squirming in her mindmate’s hands. He’d been trying to teach her the alphabet, and she was obviously learning: she remembered k came before y, after all. Skink before Sylph indeed.

[Avu]

Sylph’s motionless posture was abandoned so that the green could squirm slightly. Tickled, it did. But it felt immeasurably better, to be saved from the absolutely terrifying sandwich. Bad sandwich, bad…so mean, it was. Why had it been so mean?! All she’d been doing was trying to eat it! Food wasn’t supposed to fight back. It was supposed to docilely allow her to devour it. That was good food. Thus, the sandwich was bad. Why…why wasn’t it being bad for Rusa, though? Sylph squinted at Hers, and then crooned roughly through the mouthful of Skink. Her eyes rolled up to look at Rusa as he nodded, hands cupped loosely around the pair again. He looked so – so unstuck. How come that couldn’t happen to her? Sylph squirmed again before she replied to Skink (thank Faranth for telepathy, or she’d be more or less literally biting off Skink’s tongue): Funny ‘cause sandwich, blame sandwich. It wasn’t her fault Hers ate funny, sticky sandwiches that made her mouth smell funny! Better much, love Skink-sister, the green crooned, running her tongue around her mouth before she crawled into Rusa’s hand, pleased. Lovely sister that had saved her from the evil sandwich!

Rusa crinkled his nose slightly, and wriggled his fingers expectantly for Skink to hop into his hand. He had no problems having them in his lap while he was seated, but moving with a Salamandyr clinging to his pants could prove…decidedly awkward, and Sylph had already gotten the hint. Must help, to be mentally attached to him. “Definitely nothing to make your mouth stick,” he assured the green patiently (the fire went more or less entirely ignored by this point; had the kitchen caught fire Rusa would not have cared and been none the wiser). “Does roast wherry sound okay? It’s Syl’s favorite.” Though, Skink probably already knew that. The pair was inseparable; Skink probably had absolutely about Sylph memorized. “I don’t think you should help with the preparing, though. It’s kind of hard and I need to use a knife to cut up meat, and I don’t want to hurt you accidentally. We can make something else that doesn’t involve a knife afterwards, is that okay? We can feed it to people who’re mean.” Like Emoyan. The last two words went unsaid, though: The pair seemed to like targeting those with firelizards, but Rusa wasn’t sure if that extended to Skink’s Bonded, firelizards or not. “Hop into my h – ”

And then someone tapped him on the shoulder and Rusa turned his head to see an almost obscenely bright shirt; his gaze rose and the Candidate had to smirk slightly as he nodded a greeting at Anz. The other boy’s words were considered for a moment. Details? Unnecessary. “She’s here to save Sylph from my sandwich, which I just finished eating,” he replied drolly, the amusement in his tone clear. Sylph skittered curiously up his front and over his shoulder to peer at Anz and Sprite before she chirruped, pleasantly enough, at the other Salamandyr. She wasn’t familiar with Sprite, she wasn’t, but that was okay: She was a Salamandyr, which made her good, clearly. “I was just about to feed her. I’ve already fed Sylph, but – do you want me to get Sprite something to eat, too? I think Salamandyrs are much more deserving of the roast wherry that they’ve got ready to be served over there than the people are…Syl gorged a while ago.” Cupping one hand beneath Skink to keep the green from falling, Rusa stood up, rounding his chair before Sprite piped up and he looked down at the green. Was that the alphabet – ? “It does indeed. You know all of the alphabet? That’s incredible. Could you teach Sylph? She doesn’t know it, she’s much more interested in things like eating and tearing up paper.”

Was that a strange thing to ask a Salamandyr? Not in Rusa’s opinion; the Candidate very much considered Salamandyrs every bit as intelligent as humans.

Does not, Sylph protested, more to Sprite than to Rusa (whom she was more or less ignoring at the moment; he hadn’t saved her from the mean sandwich!). Come together, Skink and me do. First not, second not, last not. /Together/. This was emphasized with a bounce, and Rusa absently patted her on the head before gesturing absently in the direction of Skink’s upcoming meal, indicating for Anz to precede him, since the boy was directly in his way.

[dragon]

Satisfied that Sylph was adequately rescued from her bite of sammich, Skink bounced a few times, and then threw her tail up in the air, over her back before prancing around a bit. Then she looked up at Rusa's face for a moment, before looking over at Sylph as she leapt into Rusa's hand. Oh! A game? Skink scurried after Sylph happily, and curled into Rusa's palm. When he wiggled his fingers at her, she flared her frill, hissed a bit at his thumb, and then rubbed her face all over the tip of his pinkie. All done with her entirely random display, she hopped back out of his hand again, onto his pantleg. Prepare, prepare, prepare!! she sang. Bouncing across his leg in four-legged pronking, she came to a dead halt when she spied, *gasp* ... a wrinkle!

Bad!! She screamed, as if a war cry, before bounding forward to tackle the wrinkle in Rusa's pantleg, there by his knee. Clawing and kicking and biting and hissing, the mandyr paid no mind at all to what else was going on at the time, intent to tear a hole in the wrinkle and subdue it!! Unfortunately, cloth was proving a whole lot tougher than paper ... it was taking more to subdue! Reinforcements!! She called, to Sylph. All before squeaking in surprise when Rusa scooped her off his pants to stand up.

She writhed and hissed a moment, before flopping limply over his thumb, staring back down at his knee. Upon which she flared her frill and curled up, preening. Never see. Bad retreated. Gone gone. Skink victorious!! She announced, happily, before spotting Sprite. Skink comes before Sylph?! Skink was instantly pleased with Sprite, starting to preen again ... until Sylph made her own announcement on that subject. At which point Skink was quite contrite and felt bad ... Sylph was right! Releived that she had not said anything about this aloud, Skink tried to hide her blunder; naturally, but backing Sylph.

Sylph Skink same! No different. No bad. Same. Good. Together. Always. She crooned, happily, before flaring her frill again. Flattening it back down again, she scurried up out of Rusa's hand, up his arm, and onto his shoulder where Sylph was. Straightening all four legs, she threw her tail upwards again, dangling the end over her own head. Sprite come too? Sprite be sister? Skink invited.

[glamourie]

“Save Sylph from the -- what -- Sandwich - did a sandwich come to life and attack her then? Or did a drudge try to put her on bread…?”

The confusion on Anzalorin’s face was obvious as he raised his eyebrows and fidgeted uncomfortably. He did not understand. At all. How could a sandwich attack a salamandyr and thus them need ‘saving from it’? The thought made no sense to him. Maybe it was because he had too vivid of an imagination but the first image summoned to his mind was that of a salamandyr running from a large sandwich which was lifting and closing the top layer of bread like a mouth, chomping and dripping juice on the ground like saliva. The very idea made him blink at how ludicrous it was, and he couldn’t help but smile, which caused the confused look he wore to fade away. Well. Whatever it was, he was glad that Skink had ‘rescued’ Sylph from it, as a salamandyr being eaten by a sandwich would no doubt be an unpleasant sight (and experience for the one who belonged to the salamandyr, he supposed).

The rest of Rusa’s statements had Anz glancing down at Sprite. The little green looked up at Rusa shyly before backing away and Anz crinkled his nose distastefully.

“Well not if your sandwiches eat salamandyrs. I’d rather Sprite not need rescuing,” he teased, then held the little green up in front of his face. The sudden attention made her arch her back (making the lump more pronounced) and she scurried in a circle in worry before flinging herself onto Anz’s shoulder and ducking behind the back of his neck. She was shy, exceedingly so, and it took a long time for her to grow comfortable enough with someone to speak directly to them; her words about Sylph and Skink were for Anz because he was Hers. The rest… were scary. What if they didn’t like her? She was not pretty, not pretty at all like Sylph and Skink. They probably thought she was very ugly, and would not want anything to do with her, and Theirs probably thought she was ugly too. The insecurity flooded through her and she chirruped quietly to herself in the back of her throat before squirming. Anz watched her for a moment before sighing. “I don’t think she’ll take food from you, Rusa. It’s not personal. She’s really, really shy… very easily frightened and --”

And Rusa was talking to her. The sudden attention alarmed Sprite enough that she dove straight into Anzalorin’s hair, hiding amongst the strands. Her yellowy-green body almost vanished amongst the yellow of his hair. Only someone paying attention would notice her presence. The words just made her shudder and that they were followed by Sylph and Skink’s had the little green trembling. Yes, trembling, in terror and upset. The flood of emotions painted itself over Anzalorin’s face and he pulled her out of his hair to stroke her body reassuringly while she flared her frill for a split second before snapping it in again. Ugly, it was. Ugly, she was. No no no..

Offense not meant! A before B! B before C! Anzlove before Zan-Notmine, Sprite said frantically before squirming in her bonded’s hands. Offense not meant, offense not meant. K before Y. Sylph, Skink always one. Always one. Offense not meant. No be mad Spriteling. Sorry, I am. Sorry sorry. Offense not meant! Anzlooooove~ If salamandyrs could cry, she would have. The whole response that Sprite had was to try and escape to hide beneath her mindmate’s shirt and he held her firmly to prevent it, but she wailed - oh did she wail. A keening sound of upset and terror escaped her for a moment before she buried her face between Anz’s thumb and index finger. He loved her, even if the twins hated her… and surely they did for her opening her big mouth. They would hate her forever. Oh, why, oh why, could she not have been quiet? Why? Skink’s offer was primarily ignored. Sprite was too busy being terrified and upset. They must have hated her! They must have!

[Avu]

Rusa would have answered Anzalorin directly – but Skink attacking his – his pants? – had effectively stolen his attention away form the other Candidate, and he tilted his leg sideways curiously to examine what, exactly, had upset Skink enough that the green had literally attacked it. His head tilted sideways, an undeniably curious expression flickering briefly across his face, before he looked at Skink, suddenly complacent on his hand, proclaiming – apparent victory over a ‘bad’ thing. Rusahre clicked his tongue thoughtfully at the green, deciding not to comment (because, really – how did you respond to victory being declared over your pants?). Sylph, too, eyed Skink curiously for a moment, before the green curled her tail tighter around Rusa’s neck before peeping curiously. Victorious Skink for what? the green questioned – more or less exactly what Rusa was wondering before she crooned pleasantly and added, regardless of the victory, Gratz sistermine~ Because, really – any accomplishment deserved congratulations, right? Right! (Wrong!)

“I wasn’t going to get her a sandwich,” Rusa replied, glancing at Sprite curiously. “And no, it didn’t eat her; she ate it,” he added belatedly, crinkling his nose. “There was just – sauce on it, sticky. She got her mouth stuck,” the Candidate explained, shrugging one shoulder dismissively and earning an indignant look from Sylph (which he missed). “I didn’t – mean that I had to feed her…just – food…?” Sylph – never refused food, as far as Rusa was aware, though she ate delicately enough – but then, he wasn’t sure if other people offered her food while he wasn’t there or not. If he wasn’t there, he certainly wouldn’t like it once he found out; to him, that implied that he wasn’t trusted to take care of Sylph on his own – which was precisely why he was feeding Skink, because he didn’t trust Emoyan to feed her. Perhaps a rather baseless conclusion to draw, but – she hadn’t turned aside the offer for food, so as far as Rusa was concerned, he’d just keep offering until she did decide to refuse for whatever reason.

The green’s response to both his words (which Rusahre immediately wished back; he’d known Sprite was shy, but not this shy) and to Sylph and Skink’s made the Candidate blink curiously after her, and then diplomatically turn his gaze away from her. Maybe if his attention wasn’t focused on her, it’d make the green feel better…? If only slightly. No need to call her out on her shyness, though; likely it’d just make her want to hide even more and – Rusa flicked an apologetic glance at Anzalorin, and then, craning his head to eye Skink warily (he trusted Sylph not to do any flying leaps off of his shoulder, and normally, he would Skink, too, but – hey, this was the Salamandyr who had all too recently attacked his pant leg) and clicking his tongue, the Candidate moved around Anzalorin, tilting his head away from the boy to gesture that the boy could follow if he wanted. “Food,” he warned Skink – he was distinctly aware that the green couldn’t read his mind like Sylph could. “Do you want seasoned or not…?” Sylph preferred the seasoned, but that was just her. And currently, the green did not seem interested at all in food – partly because she’d just fed, and partly because of Sprite.

Fortunately, Skink had agreed with her (or else Sylph would have been very hurt, she would’ve!), but – but why was Sprite so upset? Sylph turned around in a little circle on Rusa’s shoulder to stare curiously at the bright lime green Salamandyr. For a moment, Sylph eyed Sprite in silence, and then she whispered privately to Skink – never mind that ‘whispering’ was not, strictly speaking, necessary, Upset her, did we…? The Salamandyr’s frill rose in her confusion, eyes flushed with the same emotion: She didn’t understand…Sprite, Spriteling?~ The name had been snagged in the middle of Sprite’s upset, and Sylph fully intended to use it – not necessarily as affection, but more as a way of separating Sprite’s name from her and Skink’s; Sprite was too close to their name, it was. Spriteling, Spriteling, mad not we. Food want you? Make better. Because, yes! Food made everything better, it did.

Leave her alone, Sylph…
Not want? the green persisted curiously. Was she broken? She couldn’t see why else she would be so upset – not to mention that she didn’t seem interested at the mention of food, hmm hmm…

[dragon]

Skink bounced a bit in place, the thought of taking a flying leap never occuring to her. She was with Sylph, and that was okay. Though Sprite's upset was quite distressing, it wasn't nearly as distressing as, say, Sylph getting distressed. Sprite? Sprite? ... Sprite? she asked, slowly, calmly, before stopping and turning her head to watch Sylph as Sylph talked.

Whyfor ask what Skink victorious for? Skink fight, Skink win! That why victorious. she answered, somewhat confused what her sister was even talking about. How silly. Asking why she was victorious. Never give up, never surrender! She announced, proudly, before bouncing her front end a few times again, tail still dangling overhead. Wrinkles could be beaten and driven off, even if they could not, apparently, be demolished entirely. That was something she was going to have to work on ... no wrinkle should stand before her!

She looked at Anzalorin for a moment, then at Rusahre, and then at Sylph. Yes, Skink think so. Sprite upset. Did we? Skink ... hope not. Make better, we will! she twirled about in place, and then took off at a flat out run. Across Rusa's shoulder, around the back of his neck, across his other shoulder, and then leaping as far as she could go. She opened her wings, but more for steering and control than for actual lift or flying. She sailed from Rusa's shoulder over to Anzalorin's, and almost tumbled right off the far side. Skink chirped in excitement, and then rebalanced. Turning about once more, she made for where Sprite was, even as Sylph talked to Sprite.

Spriteling~! She sing-songed, cooing softly vocally as well, peeping at Sprite. She glanced over at Sylph, and then went back to looking at Sprite. Food, yes? Good? Rusa make, mandyr eat! Rusa not make sammich. Sammiches bad. Bad bad. Food good. Slay sammiches! Sprite help slay sammiches? Sylph and Skink slay sammiches. Make better. Food before slaying.[/i] She remarked, before pronking once or twice again, before craning her head back to stare at Anzalorin's eye. For a halting moment, there was some question as to what the mandyr was thinking about doing, but then she looked away again, back across to where Sylph was sitting.

Skink tilted her head up, to look at Rusa, as he started talking to her. New. She answered. Not had. New. Good ... food. You chose. Skink like. Eat. Promise.