Lesson One: How To Be A Simourv-Nanny [Charlies~]

[Fox]

Br'an was excited. He was very, very excited. His first lesson! He and Niataph were now the Charlie Wingletmasters, as well as Rez'mat and her Esmareph. It was a gloriously cold winter day, but the young man never had minded the cold; he thrived on it, in fact, and on a day when others donned scarves and jackets and gloves, Br'an was happily comfortable in the cold wearing just an extra scarf around his neck. Niataph had settled near her green sister, head held high, poised and posed and ready to make a properly impressive first impression on her young charges and their riders. Sure, she was not the largest green, nor the prettiest, but she was strikingly coloured and proud of it, so the green always made sure to carry herself with as much dignity as she could muster. After all, she was every inch the lady, if not just as much of a queen as the grays. At her rider's signal, Niataph did not bother to rise and fly over the winglet barracks, like her red brothers had a tendency to do. In fact, she hardly moved at all, just sent out the stern mental command; Charlie Winglets, please report for your first lesson on simourv care in the feeding pens. Don't be late.[/color]

With that auspicious summons, it wasn't long before Br'an and Rez'mat and their simourvs were faced with their winglets, all nineteen of them. The number was the only dark spot marring the prospect of being a Wingletmaster for Br'an; there were nineteen when there should have been twenty. The little nameless blue on the sands had not bonded, and it was unknown whether he would bond at all. For a moment, Br'an's face, ever the window into his thoughts, reflected his anxiety, but just as soon as it had come it was gone as the man took a breath to focus on the task at hand. With a nod towards Rez'mat, he turned to greet the Winglets. "Good morning, Charlies!" He chirped in an almost credible impression of one of the cheery rainbows. Niataph huffed slightly in mingled amusement and displeasure. "Welcome to the first day of Winglet lessons! Isn't this exciting? For those of you who don't know us, I'm Br'an and this is my Niataph;" The greenrider grinned widely as he gestured to himself and his simourv, before expanding the gesture to include his fellow wingletmaster and greenrider. "And she is Rez'mat, with her Esmareph. We will be your Wingletmasters for the extent of your training." Above Br'an, Niataph inclined her head gracefully to the Winglets before she paused, eyes narrowing in on the slouched form of Sil'us beside Black Restaph. She addressed him directly, her voice darting out like a whipcrack; Stand up straight, blackrider. Shoulders back, head high! It isn't polite to slouch while someone is speaking to you.[/color]

Briefly, Br'an winced in sympathy as the rebuked winglet started and reflexively did as was told, though his face as he registered the green's command was more than a bit disgruntled. Quietly aside to his simourv, he muttered, "Niaaa..." and sent her a most put-out look. He didn't want his winglets frightened off just yet, if at all. To Sil'us, Br'an shrugged his shoulders apologetically, before turning to move on from the introductions. Off to one side of the spot where the Winglets had gathered, several Eyrie workmen were busy butchering three large bulls, silver knives gleaming in the pale sunlight as they worked. Numerous makeshift worktables had been set up, housing a chopping board, a knife and a bucket, and this was where the winglets would be carrying out their practicals. Even further still, sitting clustered together beside the fence, were buckets of a whitish mash made out of Chydyn nuts, that would comprise a healthy part of the chicks' diets. With a jerk of his thumb towards the busy area, Br'an turned back to the new winglets and their chicks with a smile that was only slightly diminished from having Niataph rebuke a winglet so baldly in front of everyone.

"Okay then! So today we'll be teaching you how to feed and care for your simourv babies." Turning briskly on his heel, Br'an trotted over to the nearest workstation before beckoning his students to follow, where he plonked an obligingly provided slab of meat onto the chopping board. Quickly, he began to chop the meat into smaller, diced pieces, making sure that his actions were visible to all nineteen wingletpairs. "The first thing you need to remember when you prepare your chick's food, is that small is the way to go. Once you've gotten the meat off the bones-- you'll be doing your own butchering, by the way, so good luck with that, dice it and mince it until it looks more or less like this." Br'an paused and moved the knife away so that his neatly pulverised meat could be observed and duly noted. It wasn't particularly appetising, but it was the best way. Your simourvs can't handle big pieces of meat right now; anything too large will choke them, and that would not be pleasant for anyone. Similarly, winglets, check every single piece of meat for stray bones you've missed. I don't need to tell you how horrible it'll be if your chick accidentally swallows one." By now, they at least would have enough of a rudimentary understanding of the bond between rider and simourv that the prospect would be properly horrifying. Good. Br'an wasn't above a little scaremongering if it got him results.

A rueful smile brought the air of the instruction back to something lighter and less dire. "You'll be doing this a lot, so you'll have plenty of practice. Until your chicks get big enough to handle larger chunks, you'll probably be doing this several times a day at the very least. Babies, whether they're puppies or kittens or simourv chicks, eat a lot and sleep a lot when they're young, but they grow pretty fast." With an almost wicked grin, Br'an brandished the knife, before slapping it solidly down onto the worktable beside his diced demonstration piece, and gestured with his free, not-bloody hand to the pails of mash to one side. "That over there is a nut mash, made from the giant Chydyn nuts. They're very nutritious for your simourvs, you know, and feeding them a balance of both is better than just one of either." He reached for a towel to clean off the worse of the gore, still happily chattering away at the students. "If you want to make it yourself, it's pretty simple. Just mash up the nut and mix it with a bit of water until it's kind of mushy and easy to eat, and you're done!"

Now more or less clean, Br'an stepped away from the workstation, glancing at Rez'mat as he did so. He was almost done with his part of the lesson; after this for the second half, he'd hand it over to her as they'd worked out before this. They'd share the winglets and the lessons and the workload, since they were joint Wingletmasters for the Charlie Class. With a nod to the winglets, he gestured to the buckets of prepared meat the helpful butchers had already provided them with. "So! I'm sure your babies are hungry right now, and we've already prepared some meat and mash to take the edge off of that hunger. Get the little ones fed and then it's your turn to prepare them a meal!" Br'an clapped his hands together once decisively. "Grab a work station and start dicing, but be sure to show the results to me or Rez'mat before you feed your chicks." And unless he was mistaken, that was all. So far. "Let's get this show on the road, go!" And as Br'an shooed the winglets in the direction of the feed buckets and Niataph sighed at her rider's hennish behaviour, both found themselves looking forward to the next year and a half.[/size]

[‡§åkørü‡]

Rez'mat, although she most certainly had no plans of showing it, was almost as excited as Br'an to begin teaching the Charlie class. Unlike him, however, she wasn't a fan of the cold; she'd put on a good warm jacket, and had a thick green scarf (the same colour as Esmareph) wound tightly around her neck. Her gloves were a matching shade and she rolled her eyes at her fellow rider's enthusiasm for the cold. Still, she didn't mention it as she stood next to her fellow wingletmaster. Esmareph, dark and stately, sat next to Niataph. As soon as her sister had arrived she'd given her an approving croon. Niataph, she greeted pleasantly, and then focused her attention on the arriving winglets. The simourv's golden eyes were stern; she surveyed every student critically, and snapped sharply into their minds whenever she found fault with whatever they might be doing. Standing on one leg instead of two? Boom. The green lashed out with her mind, demanding perfection and nothing else.

Her rider was not quite so snippy (and she knew better than to try and stop the perfectionist green). She said nothing yet, content instead to let Br'an introduce both her and her simourv. Since they had agreed that he would start this lesson, she stood quietly by while he explained the procedure for chopping meat and then gave a demonstration. Although Rez'mat was not an enthusiastic person (far from it, in fact) she found herself smiling at the other greenrider's enthusiasm and her demeanour softened just a little bit - enough that she didn't look as if she'd tear the heads off anyone who approached her. Unfortunately, the same could not be said of her simourv, who stared at her class with a queenly expression. Esmareph's gaze plainly said that imperfection would not be tolerated. Rez'mat rolled her eyes and glanced up at the huge creature. Peace, Esmareph. It's only meat-chopping. You can demand perfection with hatchling care, she informed her.

And I will, the green sniffed, glancing at Niataph. The other adult simourv seemed perfectly content to let the winglets chop as they would; she herself practically wiggled with the need to make them do it right. She couldn't stand to see anything done improperly, even slightly so. Still, the green forced herself to remain where she was, doing nothing, because Hers seemed to disapprove of the idea of her hovering over all the poor winglets as they were trying to cut the meat and mash the nuts for their chicks.

As soon as all of the students were done and had their cutting skills approved, however, Rez'mat stepped forward and her simourv rose to follow her, looming over her rider with an approving glance at the successful class. The rider smiled, not wanting to terrify the class, and began to speak. "There is a second half to this lesson, so don't any of you try to disperse yet," she called, forcing herself to sound at least somewhat cheerful. "Feeding isn't the only thing you need to do to care for your simourvs. Although keeping them alive and nourished is a major part of it, you also have to make sure that they stay healthy. That is why you need to feed them both pulverized meat and nut mash - if you give them only one of those, they won't be as healthy as they could be." Here she paused to let the winglets take in the information, and then went on. "Although your new friends only have downy feathers so far, eventually other feathers will grow in, and you have to keep those healthy. Without healthy feathers, your hatchlings won't be able to fly and that is not a happy prospect. So I'm here to teach you how to keep your hatchlings bodies and feathers in good condition. Take Esmareph here as an example," she explained, indicating the green. Esmareph cocked her head and chirped, then dutifully turned her head and began preening her feathers, speaking to the young chicks as she did so. Hatchlings, this is called preening. I'm sure most of you have already found out that this is a fun and comfortable activity. But it's more important than that. Preening helps take the dust and fluff out of your feathers, and it pulls out the loose feathers that aren't doing you any good anyway. It also helps relieve the itching when you molt. Preening will also help make your feathers more waterproof. I assure you that this is very important when it rains or if you feel like taking a dip in the lake. For now, however, do NOT try to go for a swim. You will become waterlogged, and you will probably freeze considering the season. Please inform your Mines of this, because it is essential for them to know as well.

Seeing that her simourv had finished speaking for the moment, Rez'mat took over, seamlessly continuing where Esmareph had left off, leaving a moment for the chicks to tell their bondeds about the dangers of going for a swim in their down, especially in this kind of weather. And then she spoke, resting her hands on her hips authoritatively. "Besides preening and bathing, your simourvs can take dust baths. Esmareph?" The wingletmaster turned to her simourv, and the green crooned to the little ones before dropping into the dirt and rolling with glee. Despite her need to be clean, Esmareph was fond of taking dust baths. After all (as she explained to the chicks while she was rolling) it kept unwanted things off of you, like bugs and water. Besides that, if a simourv had an itch it couldn't reach, the ground would probably scratch it, and scratch it quite well at that.

As soon as her simourv was finished rolling around in the dust, Rez'mat turned back to the winglets and smiled, glancing at the chicks. "All of you, feel free to try dust baths yourself. If for some reason there isn't any dust available," here she glanced at the humans in the class, "a damp cloth - damp, not wet - will suffice if rubbed over your simourv's body." With this the instruction period of the lesson was concluded, and Esmareph rose to her feet, moving to sit next to her sister once again. Despite the dust covering her feathers, she crooned pleasantly to the other green. I think they will do quite well, Niataph. If they don't, we shall soon have them behaving perfectly.

[/center]

[Kat]

Only one night separated Ja’son from the hatching, but already, he felt as if his life could never return to any semblance of normality. Of course, his normal life was terrible in comparison to his new life, where he felt a new sense of completeness he had not thought possible since Isabel died, but the sudden change came as a surprise to Ja’son who could not believe that he bonded to a simourv in the first place. The man slept surprisingly well, even with the extra weight of Foph compressing his chest and pinning Ja’son to the bed so that the man could not move. Foph, from his position on top of Ja’son’s chest, where he slept the night, in a position reminiscent of his position on top of Ja’son at the hatching, lifted his head as Niataph called to his class. The simourv’s eyes peeled open open, revealing his orange irises, but as soon as he opened them, he closed them again. Foph wanted no part in this lesson concept. He wanted to lay here with his Ja’son for awhile longer, until he felt ready to wake. Once he woke up, Foph planned on convincing Ja’son to feed him in the solitude of their own space. They did not need help with anything. What did they need to learn from other people? They could learn everything together, alone, without anyone else. Foph’s head lifted as he listened to Niataph ruin his time with his Ja’son, and it fell back down to Ja’son’s chest as soon as the message ended. The simourv tucked his beak under Ja’son’s chin and nuzzled his soft head as close as possible to Ja’son’s neck.

While his simoruv thought that the lesson remained pointless, Ja’son’s mind reacted in the exact opposite way to the news. He immediately began to plan out his path to the lesson, down to what he would wear, if he would eat first, and how to get from the winglet barracks to the feeding pens without getting lost. The man felt Foph lift his head, and Ja’son assumed that Foph moved because he was in the middle of getting up. The large man picked his body out of bed, sitting up despite the pressure on his chest, which sent the simourv who had not gotten up as Ja’son thought, but pressed further into Ja’son’s body instead, flying to the ground. As soon as the event occurred, Ja’son realized his mistake, and he frantically dropped out of bed, tangled horribly in his blanket, to tend to Foph. The simourv, too, had not expected to fly out of bed as he did, and so he landed on the ground, only a few feet away, with a startled squawk. What had just happened? He had been sleeping on his’s chest, and then his got up, but why? Foph, unharmed, already turned his body over so that he stood on his claws, blinked up at Ja’son, his eyes narrowing. While the winglet frantically ran his hands over his simourv, to check for injuries, Foph glared at Ja’son, not out of anger towards the man, but rather in a way which conveyed a certain paranoia about the situation.
Mine, why did you get up? I want to sleep some more. Since I am unharmed, let’s go back to bed. We do not need a lesson; you can learn everything you need to know alone. We can learn anything as long as we are together without other people.
The blue simourv announced as he shook off his body, as if he was dirty from the ground. His feathers flared, and he produced a small cooing sound as he padded towards his rider. Foph wrapped his body around Ja’son’s legs, pressing himself tightly against Ja’son’s form and weaving his tail between Ja’son’s legs. The man shot a small, quick glance towards T’koa’s side of the room, hoping that the other man did not see the exact play of the actions which just occurred.

The man knew that he needed to get dressed, so he carefully peeled his body away from Foph, careful not to harm the blue hatchling again. Ja’son still felt terribly about the flight of his blue, and the worry that he harmed his partner burned tightly in his chest. The worry, pain, about the way the two awoke left Ja’son vulnerable to Foph’s suggestion, which pressed into his mind, projected and supported by the intensity of Foph’s desire. For a second, Ja’son embraced the idea, allowing his mind to settle into the comfort of the thought of returning to his deep sleep with his hatchling on his chest. Ja’son moved towards his bed, crossing the distance in two strides, before he remembered that he had no idea how to tend for Foph. Ja’son realized that he needed the lesson so that he could tend to Foph properly, care for the second part of his soul, correctly, and he turned to touch Foph on top of his head, wrapping dark fingers into light feathers.
Foph, we have to go to the lesson, because I need to be taught to tend for you. I am afraid that I will do something wrong if I try to learn it on my own. I promise that after the lesson, we can go and be alone together. You’ll only have to be around your siblings for the morning, I swear.

[/b]
Ja’son knew exactly what Foph wanted. He was not sure how he could anticipate his simourv’s needs, but they blazed inside of the man as if they were his own desires. Only the power of his logic and the fear of his permanent state of incompetency kept Ja’son steadfast in his own decision. Foph shook his head, but his body relaxed in surrender.
I do not like it, mine, but if you think that we must, then I will comply. But I want the rest of the day with you alone. No one else will get as much time with you as me, ever.[/color]
Ja’son had no choice but to agree with his simourv’s desires. The only way Ja’son would make it to the lesson would be to promise himself to his simourv. The man just hoped that Foph would not complain during the lesson, or worth, attack any of his siblings or their riders. Foph’s assault on A’ryllis resonated still in Ja’son’s mind, and he worried that the blue might repeat the performance.
If any of them try to take you from me, then I will treat them appropriately, even if I have to use my claws.[/color]
Foph purred into Ja’son’s mind. The simourv meant his words as well, Ja’son just knew. He hoped that Foph would behave himself. He did not wish to cause trouble for the winglet master. Ja’son just wanted to make a nondescript impression, so that he did not stand out in the crowd.

Ja’son moved towards his trunk a second time, and he stepped over Foph, who lay in front of the piece of furniture in a small attempt to prevent Ja’son from reaching his clothing. Ja’son pulled out a cream colored tunic and a dark pair of cotton pants, lined with fleece. The air outside was cold, and Ja’son hoped that he did not need to find a way to warm Foph. Ja’son worried about harming Foph further. The creature was so fragile in his mind, a baby who needed constant protection, and Ja’son vowed to care for Foph to the best of his abilities. Once he was dressed, Ja’son moved towards his doorway, stopping at his end table to grab his wedding ring, which he slipped off before the hatching in case it fell into the sands. Foph watched his partner through weary orange eyes, and his eyes narrowed as he studied Ja’son’s movements. When the human grabbed the ring, the simourv shrieked, his voice carrying all around the room, and making Ja’son’s heart pound with worry not only about his simourv, but also about his roommate. What if T’koa awoke? What if the man heard the sounds of Foph and thought something was wrong? Even though they were candidates together, Ja’son barely knew the other blue rider, and Ja’son hoped that T’koa would not get the wrong impression about Ja’son treatment of Foph, especially since the other rider witnessed Foph’s fall off of Ja’son’s bed earlier in the morning. The elder blue rider immediately dropped to the ground again, moving to stroke Foph on the neck, in an attempt to calm the simoruv and to determine what caused the simourv’s outburst. Foph lifted his body into Ja’son’s hand, embracing the feeling of his rider’s touch.
Mine, you will not wear a symbol of your love for someone else. I will not allow it. You have me now, and I am far better than anyone you used to love. You will love only me, mine.
Foph announced, and his eyes remained focused on the golden ring now sitting around Ja’son’s finger. Foph would not stand for it. The ring was unacceptable. His needed to understand that he could only love Foph, and that the simourv would not accept any tokens of his rider’s love for other people.

At this announcement, Ja’son’s eyes widened. He had not expected that the simourv would care about his ring, which he almost always wore. In fact, Ja’son was not even sure how the simourv understood the significance of the ring, but the man assumed that Foph must feel the connection the ring had for Ja’son from their inseparable bond. Even though Ja’son now had a new bond, one which filled the void left by the death of his wife, Ja’son struggled to take off the ring. He watched it for a second, his eyes lingering on the small, yellow band, and then he pulled it off of his finger and set it back on the bed stand. He wanted to keep the ring on, and leaving it made his heart burn, but he filled the difficult pain with the power of his connection to Foph. Foph nodded his head in appreciation for the action, and only when the ring was returned to the desk did Foph move out of Ja’son’s way, so that the man could exit their shared room.

Ja’son sulked to the back of the pack of winglets and simourvs when he reached the feeding pens. He stood with his hands crossed over his chest as he listened to Br’an introduce himself, lessons, and his winglet master partner. While Ja’son remained perfectly still, almost a hewn statue, his simourv continued to move. Foph did not make big movements, and instead, he pressed harder and harder against Ja’son’s legs. The blue simourv wanted to be as close to Ja’son as possible. Had he been able to push himself under Ja’son’s skin, he would have done it. As the world remained, the simourv could only wrap his body around his rider’s feet. While Foph leaned into Ja’son’s calves, his variegated tail swished around his rider’s legs, tying around Ja’son’s knees. The man, despite the weight against his legs, did not waver in position until he had to retrieve the meat for Foph. He could feel the blue simourv’s hunger, eating away at the baby creature, and Jason wished to quell the hunger as soon as possible. Ja’son moved, darting forwards, a bit abruptly in his haste to feed Foph, forgetting that the simourv was wrapped so entirely around his rider’s feet. Ja’son tumbled to the ground, pitching face forwards into the ground, and only barely managing to catch himself with his palms. His wrists stung with the stress of the fall, but Ja’son ignored the pain as he stumbled to his feet. Foph realized that he caused his rider to fall, and while he refused to apologize for expressing his devotion to Ja’son, Foph did begin to pull his tail away from his rider’s feet, so that the man could move. Thoroughly humiliated, his face turning a bit pink around the edges, despite his dark brown skin, Ja’son stood up, brushed his pants off with his palm, and walked a few steps to retrieve the meat. He lifted one of the buckets and brought it to Foph, and then Ja’son began to careful place the chunks of meat into Foph’s open mouth. Today was going to be a long day for both of them; Ja’son started to realize that he hardly possessed the coordination to tend to Foph, and Foph found the presence of the winglet masters and his siblings so incredibly tedious. Foph wanted to be with Ja’son alone, and the blue simourv would not stand for much more of this group setting. It displeased him utterly.
[/blockquote]
((Mo'na and Vestiyph are up next, of course, but I plan on introducing them agter a few more people have posted. They plan to be "fashionably" late.)) [/size]

[zeis]

Sh'gir had a very strange dream, or at least, she supposed it was a dream. The slight girl was lost in an endless stretch of desert, wandering the dunes and holding a broken shadeless parasol. It was unbearably hot, and no matter how long she walked toward the wavering oasis in the distance it never got any closer. Then shade engulfed her, and it was the shadow of some enormous bird. The parasol slipped out of her hands as she turned to look, and came face to face with a great green feathered beast behind her. It lowered its head and...

Charlie Winglets, please report for your first lesson on simourv care in the feeding pens. Don't be late.

She woke in a confused daze, knowing what the voice signaled but not recognizing it otherwise. Where was the slightly painful but wholly adorable squeal of Aburoqaph? This voice sounded cold in comparison. The girl yawned and sat up in bed, stretching her slender arms above her head. Sh'gir froze in that pose as she recalled the previous nights events. The hatching had been yesterday, and she had bonded. The feast that followed was an inconsequential blur after that fact, and she barely remembered any of the conversations she had as her dark blue eyes fell on the slowly waking form of Anaph.

The infant green had been allowed to stay with her here instead of the infirmary, but during the feast Sh'gir had been instructed to report with her new partner to the infirmary once a day for a bandage change. Anaph, a fluffy bundle of assorted neon feathers yawned cavernously, from where she lay curled at the foot of the bed. Her back and sides were neatly and carefully bandaged, but much to Sh'gir's dismay she could see dim spots of red where blood had soaked through in the night. Oh, Sh'gir! How did you get big again? I saw you, and you were so small, and... Ouch! The green interrupted her own train of thought as she attempted to leap to her clumsy feet, jostling her scratches. She turned her head around to stare at her back, as if seeing the bandages for the first time. Hmm! ... What was that voice? Was it a simourv? Do you have any food?

Sh'gir scooted forward toward her little bonded, and with a faint look of worry inspected the bandages. She stroked the simourv's rounded silky ears soothingly, and smiled gently at the stream of questions, too fast to answer one at a time. "That's our new teacher, dear. It was a simourv. I don't have food, but there will be some at the pens. We should go, so we aren't late." She advised with gentle wisdom, finding it difficult to follow her own advice, as the new bond between her and Anaph was fascinating still, and filled her with love. Still, the girl stood, and awkwardly lifted her green chick off the bed to the floor, stooping over with the effort. Anaph squirmed, and was off at a brisk pace to explore the room as soon as all four claws were on the floor.

What's this room, mine? What is this? This is pretty! Do you smell that, mine? Its something little and crawly... Anaph spoke in an almost nonstop stream of questions and observations, flitting from one thing to the next as she explored the room. There were so many things she hadn't seen before! She had no idea what they were. It was great! There were also lots of smells, which were fun to follow, even if she bumped into things. Sh'gir giggled as she hastily got dressed, putting on sensible work clothes, knowing better now than to dress finely for lessons. "Let's go, Anaph. We musn't dawdle."

Anaph bounded carefully after her, trying not to disturb her scratches, but every now and then forgetting. At they neared the lesson site at the feeding pens however, the green chick threw all caution out the window. Hello! I remember you guys! It's me, Anaph! She announced cheerly and ran to meet her siblings despite the slight stinging pain. She tripped a few times on the way there, but eventually made it. The green chick raced from one to the other, sniffing them, and pawing playfully while keeping a wide berth around Xaph. Lets eat, then we can play! Come on-

As Sh'gir ran to catch up with her hyper chick, they both received a stern reprimand from the two elder greens, who were watchful for any misbehavior as the lesson began. Anaph, who had been making a racket and in general was behaving wildly, jumped at the noise, and loped hastily back toward Sh'gir. She peered out from behind her bonded's legs at the much bigger simourv, suddenly shy and quiet. Sh'gir frowned and glanced down at her simourv sympathetically, but did not question the scolding. Students were supposed to be well-behaved and attentive after all.

As the lesson progressed, Anaph received several more such rebukes, often for interrupting or simply not paying attention. Sh'gir, busy with trying to control her simourv, paled slightly at the lesson content. She had finally gotten used to butchering animals thanks to her lessons with Ts'kal, but the task was still one she didn't look forward to. When given leave to, she fetched a pale of meat and mash for her simourv, hoping the food would calm her down, maybe induce a nap.

Anaph squeaked when the food was placed in front of her, and knocked over the buckets to eat hungrily, mussing her neon and mint feathers with gore and mash. Sh'gir giggled despite the mess, and went off along with the other Winglets to try her hand at preparing a meal. Perhaps simply because all the gory details were burned into her memory, she performed well, and missed only a single scrap of bone. It wasn't long before another pail was set before Anaph, and in much less time the ravenous infant devoured it.

Wiping off her hands, Sh'gir listened with interest and less horror to the second part of the lesson. She hadn't learned much about grooming from Ts'kal, and laughed quietly at Esmareph's blissful dust bath. Anaph, who though full was still fidgeting, looked on boredly until that display occurred. Rolling around madly in the dirt, sending up clouds everywhere? Count her in! I'm gonna try. Are you watching me, Mine? Over here- "No, don't!" Sh'gir yelped, ducking down to one knee and reaching out to touch her partner. She blushed a bit. Had she said that out loud? Flushing, she awkwardly sent Anaph her thoughts, still unused to the strange new way of communication. You musn't roll, my dear. You'll hurt yourself, and get dirt in your bandages. I'll give you a bath at the infirmary, alright? Aw... Can I roll in dirt after? No. Aw...

~~~~~~

S'pais had retired early from the feast last night not knowing just what to think. After eating himself into a tired stupor, she had taken Xaph to her new room, which happened to now be shared with Romallyeh. The smallest of the Charlie blues had fallen asleep almost as soon as he had closed his eyes, and she had returned to the party thoughtful and mildly troubled. The girl had quickly noted that of all the congratulations passed out to the new Winglets that hers were the most tentative. From the surrounding chatter she gathered the hatching was a strange one. Not only did her Xaph maul another chick in a startling display of violence, but there were other injuries, and one chick failed to bond completely. Bad tidings said the crowd. She had fallen asleep that night with an alien and unsettling presence in the back of her mind, dreaming dark dreams.

Now she sat silently on the edge of her bed, already dressed and ready for the day, watching the still sleeping form of Xaph. The small blue lay sprawled comfortably on the pillowed couch, some distance away from her bed. The blue and white feathers around his face were still stained slightly reddish brown from last nights feeding, and his stubby wings twitched in his sleep. The girl furrowed her eyebrows at him, leaning forward to her elbows rested on her knees. He looked innocent enough just laying there... A part of her told her coldly that her unease was stupid and unjustified. There wasn't anything wrong with him. The things he had suggested to her yesterday, and the nightmares she had last night were just a result of hunger and overeating. She loved him, that could not be denied. It was a fierce, and bewildering devotion...

But still...

Charlie Winglets, please report for your first lesson on simourv care in the feeding pens. Don't be late.

Xaph perked his rounded white ears, and opened his eyes to the world. He felt reflexively for the thoughts of S'pais, and immediately aware that he was being watched, turned his head to gaze at her. The girl before him was reflected in miniature in his glossy black eyes, like empty sockets in his face. You look tired, Mine. Didn't you sleep well? He asked with casual solemnity, blinking once as he pushed himself to his feet. The blue chick stretched languidly, kneading and ripping at the pillows on which he stood to flex his claws. S'pais frowned at the question initially, but smiled as the blue slunk over and rubbed himself against her knee. She leaned forward and scratched between his stubby horns. I slept fine. She lied. Whoever that voice was wants us at the feeding pens. Are you hungry?

He stared at her expectantly, but at the mention of the lesson he turned his attention toward the rooms other slowly stirring occupants. A girl, and his blue brother, Cantarillaph. He regarded the other chick critically, and his stubby elegantly feathered tail waved thoughtfully behind him. Why are they here? He asked his without looking at her, expecting an answer. S'pais glanced over at R'lyeh's side of the room, and raised an eyebrow. They're our room-mates, I guess. Thats Romallyeh, she's a quiet girl, kind of weird. It could be a worse situation. We could have been roomed with Embry. She snorted, and rose to a stand with a little smirk. Xaph turned his head to look at her, then padded quietly and casually out of their room into the hall. Come. I want to eat. S'pais shrugged, glanced one last time at her room-mate, and followed.

The pair arrived shortly before the start of the lesson. S'pais spotted Shaegir in the crowd, and quickly looked away with a bit of a glower. The blue-Winglet had wanted to speak with her last night, but didn't want to be the one to approach her first. Maddeningly, her sibling had made no effort to contact her at the feast. If that was the way she wanted it, fine! She listened half heartedly to the lecture about butchering food, most of it things she already knew, and could have guessed by herself. Like she would just try and feed a young simourv a haunch of meat, really!

Xaph however froze as soon as they reached the lesson site. He watched with wide eyed intensity as the men beyond their new Wingletmaster's carved and butchered cattle. He barely moved as they spoke, barely breathed at all. The humans cut at the meat with gleaming slivers of steel, parting flesh like tissue paper, spilling blood, and exposing innards that steamed in the cold winter air. They put the neatly disassembled efforts of their labor in a bucket, and set it aside. They left only the empty carcass, skinless, and flayed to the very bone. I like lessons, Mine. They're fun. He confided in his partner, who simply looked down at him with raised eyebrows before being called off to fetch a pail of meat and mash. She set both down before him with a smile.

The blue's stomach snarled at the sight and smell of the food before him, and it was the steaming flesh he fell upon first. He ate with decadent messiness, spilling the bucket and its contents onto the floor, and flicking his tail with delight as he enthusiastically filled his stomach. When he was finished with the meat, he lapped at the blood that pooled at the buckets lip. S'pais, simply watched him a moment, before she was called up to have a go at carving herself. When she was about ready to begin, she found Xaph had followed her, and sat curiously beside her, his white head and breast covered with gore. More. ... Please...

His voice was wracked with such hunger that though she felt distracted with him so close, she went to work anyway. He watched her prepare his meal in silence, his mind maintaining a powerful and emotional hold on hers. Her product was flawed, containing a few chunks of bone, but he did not comment or criticize as the fixed meal was set before him. He ate it with only slightly diminished fervor, and the link their shared swelled with silent love and gratitude.

When the lesson continued, the pair stood once more back with the group to listen. S'pais was still slightly bloodied, looking distracted while simultaneously trying to feign disinterest. With no desire to be hassled, she kept good posture and did not interrupt, watching her teachers with her typical hyper-critical gaze. At least they weren't Rainbow-riders. That much she could be glad for. Beside her, Xaph listened and learned quietly, and calmly set about preening his feathers. Looking at him, the girl knew he wouldn't be able to get all that blood off himself. Great, more work for her later.

[Stranger]

(OOC> R'iner will come in a bit, got a bit tangled with hers )


H'tio and Ourobeph

Dawn found H'tio curled and asleep on his bed. Sleepless though the night had been, he had slept eventually anyway - and then woken to find an enormous beak in his face.

Morning H'tio!

The explosion of thought jerked him back before he could stop himself; the next moment his ears exploded as Ourobeph screeched and stumbled away, tiny wings flared and eyes staring.

Where, what? What's scary??

Shrugging the shock from his head with a hard shake, H'tio found words, "No no, you surprised me that's all. Nothing's scary."

Oh, the blue leveled his gaze back at him, Right. But now I'm hungry! Scares make me hungry. Can you find some food? I know I ate it all yesterday, but I'm sure we can go find some more, and when we do we can still share it again, and...

The endless stream of words was...disconcerting. H'tio raised a hand to still them, gathered his thoughts. "Alright alright, we'll go get some food. Relax."

Of course I AM relaxed, Ourobeph snorted, Who's not?

Emm, no one, H'tio thought as he scrambled from the bunk and shivered in the cold air, sorting through his clothes. A tunic went on over the thin nightshirt, then proper leggings, boots, a jacket...Ourobeph fidgeted restlessly through his collection of shells, most of them crushed after being battered through various struggles to settle into the bunk last evening. That had caused the blue hatchling no end of grief, and H'tio no peace by association. Only the finding of the two bracelets on the floor had brought enough quiet for the chick to settle, giving the boy some time to think his new situation through. Thankfully, the chick had also seemed exhausted enough by the excitement and energy of the Hatching to sleep easily when night fell.

Now, however, Ourobeph was wide awake - and brimming. The blue pushed a boot at H'tio even as his tail lashed behind him. It narrowly missed hitting the remnants of the shells on the ground, causing him to pull up, startled. Moving more carefully, he started for the doorway as H'tio slid on his boots, leaving only the cheery trail of his thoughts.

I'll wait for you outside!

Lacing the footwear quickly, H'tio ducked out after him and flinched as the cold hit him headfirst. He was further north than he had ever been in his life, and felt it keenly. Ourobeph, however, was unbothered by the chill; he was shuffling curiously in the snow, minute flicks of his tail the only sign of his excitement. The boy jogged to catch up as he scampered - and then nearly crashed into his rump as he sklidded to a halt suddenly.

H'tio - we're called, he said, head lifted, Niataph wants us at the feeding pens for our first lesson. Let's goooooo....

He was left in the dust again as the blue hatchling shot off, clambering eagerly through the snow with wings flared. Biting back a curse H'tio followed suit, tripping and sliding on the powdery but smooth surface. The sleepless night of before had done little for his temper, and did less now for his mood. It was really to early to be chasing a flurry of energy and feathers across a frozen landscape. Not to mention his chick was about to get his food, but breakfast was definitely nowhere in sight for him. And had Ourobeph said they were to have a lesson...?

Not surprisingly, they were one of the first winglets to arrive; a circumstance that H'tio was most grateful for when the excited blue skidded to a halt and chirruped a greeting to everyone present.

Morning everybody! he sang, It's a beautiful day isn't it?

The snow caught his attention just then and he veered off to investigate its shininess. H'tio, struggling not to melt into the snow himself in embarrassment, flashed a smile at Br'an and Rez'mat as he nodded a greeting. Courtesy and upbringing directed his actions, natural as the sun climbing the cliffs, "Good morning Sir, Ma'am."

H'tio, this is beautiful, Ourobeph, unrepentant, was shuffling his nose in the snow, Can we take it back?

"Eh, no Ro, we can't," the boy lipped over and gently pulled his hatchling out by the scruff, "It'll melt if we do."

....melt?

"Yeah, like dissolve into small puddles and become slush."

Slush?

"Right," the smile suddenly on his features felt warm with the blood rushing in his face - what a conversation to be having in front of their Wingletmasters and the gathering class! He resorted, somewhat desperately, to images projected mentally at the chick; that had seemed to work well enough last night. Ourobeph gazed back at him with big, round eyes, then suddenly wailed.

Noooo! It's spoilt!

"Yes, that's why we won't take any," H'tio could feel his gritted teeth, "It's best left where it is. Now come back here."

Ourobeph whined, but stepped after him as they merged into the growing cluster of Winglets, which had mostly arrived by now. H'tio, trying to listen to Br'an tell them about feeding their hatchlings, felt his press against his legs.

H'tio, will it stay pretty if I leave it where it is? the blue's voice was wistful, sad. He sighed. Not wanting to interrupt the lesson, he tried thinking out what he would say.

Yes, it will. It only melts if you get it too warm. It's fine left out here.

...alright, the hatchling was still watching the shimmery patches beyond their group as they proceeded to their workstations, But H'tio...that patch is now mine. I claim it!

And the blue winglet, shredding meat in a task that felt oddly like surgical work, could only sigh and agree.

[Stranger]

R'iner and Portemmorreph

The summons woke Portemmorreph with a start; struggling to her feet she managed to snag the edge of one wing beneath a foot. The resulting struggle pulled her into a sideway tumble that landed her beside her bonded's cot, her long tail splashed inelegantly over its startled occupant. R'iner, dropping the book she had been perusing, reached to push coils of tail aside as her mind opened to the cascade of words invading her thoughts.

Mine, Niataph says we must go to the Feeding Pens for our first lesson, nownownownow...

It was jarring, to say the least, made more so by the chick's anxiety. She shook her head to clear the ringing effect of mindspeech on her head and rolled off the bed to help the hatchling back onto her feet.

"Yesyes, calm down, we go...now..."

Still spreading random pulses of calm for the sake of thinking over her green's flurries of thought, R'iner slipped her dark brown jacket on over her creamier long tunic, clambered into her worn leather boots and snagged a thick woolen scarf, bright red, from the cot railings even as she blundered a pair of brown wool gloves on. Brown leggings completed the outfit, plain and work-worthy as the girl herself. Winters were harsher this far north, but accustomed as she was to working in the open, she rarely needed more than what she donned now. It was without doubt a bit too much for her considering the not-yet-so-bad weather today, but R'iner from long habit tended to overdress. Just in case a snowstorm blew up during the extended periods she spent outside.

Now? Portemmorreph felt like she was bout to keen, her worry nagging at R'iner as a gnat might. She did not want to displease their Wingletmasters - the ones who would be take care of them, provide for them, protect them....With a final tug at the scarf to secure it, the girl started out the door.

"Come come, don't fret," the spoken words bought some measure of comfort to her. It was hard to think with Portemmorreph's thoughts thronging her mind, and so she preferred to speak out loud. Portemmorreph, scrambling to run after her bonded, tripped over her oversized foretalons with a screech and end in a heap just behind R'iner, nearly knocking her forward as well. With a sigh, she turned to help the chick up again, then proceeded with careful, constant prods in both mind and fingers to keep the hatchling focused on her feet.

The cold air was bracing, and on reaching the spot after any number of scrambles, trips and falls, R'iner was not surprised to see that 'most everyone else was already present. The way her green had reacted to the summons, it was only surprising they looked less hassled than her. Portemmorreph, nursing a bump on her nose and assorted broken feathers across her tail, took the chance to chirrup and look up apologetically at Niataph.

I'm so sorry we're a bit late, I had trouble with my feet and Mine was helping me come here when you called, she perked up, But we're here!

R'iner, smiling ruefully and a little nervously as she smoothed out the feathers on the lime-hued head and shoulders, nodded a greeting to Br'an and Rez'mat. Truth be told, she was not altogether comfortable with either - never had been so with people she was not familiar with but who suddenly had the running of her life in nearly every aspect. Br'an was fine enough, he seemed cheerful and almost as nervous as she felt; Rez'mat, she knew, was probably sterner, if her demeanor was anything to go by. A quick glance around told her H'tio was here as well, looking rather the worse for wear; as if he had rushed from his barracks in a hurry. The sight of a familiar face was reassuring under the gazes of the Wingletmasters' green simourv, and she smiled as she mused that his blue was probably quite a handful.

No time for more observation though - instructions were being called. Obediently she took up a spot at the closest workstation and began mincing. It wasn't something she was unused to; ever since Marylena's death the bulk of the family cooking had fallen to her, and after Rosa went....well, it had been only Kendrick and her. Blinking back the memories she focused on sifting the bones from the shredded meat, and felt a soft something press against her legs.

Mine don't be upset, Portemmorreph crooned, I'll protect you, I will. You won't...go away?

The words jarred in her head as ever; but the warmth behind them was...soothing. Staring back at the wide dark eyes, R'iner felt her breath hold. The hatchling was too young to know what was death; she had no intention of breaking it to her. Let the chick stay a chick a while longer, even if she was omnivorous and what she ate had died to give her life. Forcing a smile, she brushed the small black heart beneath the gazing left eye.

"No I won't, love. Come, I'll get you a bucket o' nuts and you start while I dice this."

The green crooned once more and rose to follow as R'iner strode off, but a quick mental pulse from the girl had stilled her; this was no place to go tripping and falling, with everyone handling knives and dangerously hungry chicks everywhere. There had been more than one mauling at the Hatching just the day before, and she hardly trusted the others to keep their young ones in hand. No matter how she felt about her green, the simourv had proven to be dangerous and unpredictable, even to their own kind. Portemmorreph caught her bonded's wry mood, and subconsciously the feathers of her nape lifted just a little as she cast wary glances at the rest. Xaph and Foph in particular - they felt the most unfriendly, though she couldn't quite put her talon on why. But just let them try and hurt her, or her chosen...! R'iner, carrying the bucket in arms accustomed to menial tasks, dropped it in front of her.

"Here love, tuck in, I'll get the meats done."

[khealis]

Sleeping in was one of life's little pleasures, at least in L'lan's mind it was. Not one for frequently having a lie in, the seldom occasions when the greenrider did sleep late were like rare joys. Joys that mostly involved snuggling into his blanket and ignoring the world. The feast of the night before had been wondrous, and perhaps he'd been up rather later than was wise. Of course, he hadn't taken into account that there was now a good-sized simourv chick to be dealt with. A rather early rising one at that.

Fauneteph stood on his bed, their bed, her front claws resting on his side, a dusting of dull green feathers already littering the bed after only one night. Mine, it's morning, mine. Time to get up. It's another beautiful day to be alive, mine, now up! L'lan groaned, peering at his chick through sleep-blurred eyes, and muttering his reply, far too tired to try speaking through his new bond,"It's early yet, Faun, just five more minutes..." And with that, he promptly dropped his face back into his pillow just in time for Niataph's announcement to ring through his head. See mine! A wonderful day for a lesson! Think we can eat something first?

With barely a minute to spare the greenpair arrived at the feeding pens, Fauneteph practically skipping while L'lan fairly trudged, still rubbing at his eyes. With a sharp reprimand from Niataph though, he straightened up, fighting back a yawn under the wingletmasters' watchful eyes. Finding a place, he watched and listened to the lesson, not reacting much to chopping the meat, he'd had to do similar chores back home whenever his uncle brought in game. Fetching some nut mash, he knelt next to his, ruffling her feathers gently, "Start with this, Faun, while I get the meat ready. Careful not to eat it too fast, though." Smiling slightly at the chick's happy chirp as she dug into her meal, he went to work dicing the meat, having it inspected before giving it to Fauneteph.

The green sat back on her haunches after her meal, gore smearing the soft down of her face. She wove her tail about her person's legs, flicking her eyes over at him every few seconds until Rez'mat and Esmareph stepped forward for their portion of the lesson. Watching with wide eyes, Fauneteph all but bounced on the spot with excitement, trilling into her bonded's mind happily, Mine, isn't Esmareph pretty? Isn't she good at teaching us? Can I do that now, mine?
Smiling lightly, L'lan dropped his hand to the chick's head, resting it between her ears and reached out to reply across the bond, After the lesson, mine. And then I'll take you back and clean your face, too. With a happy chirp, the chick settled against her's legs until the end of the lesson.

[Kilnarak]

Strange forms whirled in the storm-gray sky above, pale wings spread wide to catch and drift upon the gale building over the beach. There were no buildings, no structures to mark human habitation, nothing save her and the pallid forms gyring overhead. She stood waist deep in the roiling black waters, could feel the current pulling at her legs - the roar of the surf calling to her, beckoning her further out. Not so far further, ink-black forms rose and fell beneath the waves, twisting shadows on the black water. They called as well, and she knew they would devour her if she went to them. Still, a part of her wanted to go. One of the great black heads rose from the water, its gaping mouth a bloody smear of crimson lined with thick, serrated teeth. The serpent's maw gaped wider before her, slowly coming to encompass her whole world. It had nearly finished blotting out all of the gray of the sky, when thunder rumbled and lighting flashed, blinding in the sky.

She road the lightning away, or maybe he did, soaring higher and higher. Azure wings beat the air and parted the clouds, and the world above them was bright cerulean and gold, warmth and color and light to contrast the muddy grays below. He wheeled about, chasing one of the pale things, faint ghosts of what he was. It broke apart into mist as he struck it, and he wheeled again, dancing over the cloud cover and singing at the beauty of it all.

R'lyeh awoke slowly, drawn out of dreams by the half-muffled chirps and croons of the dreaming Cantarillaph. The blue lay half-sprawled across her stomach, his soft talons and stubby wings flexing and twitching in a mimicry of his dream-dance. She stared at the blue - her blue - for what felt like a very long time, trying to reacquaint herself with the notion that this creature was hers, was a part of her now. That she was something more than... than whatever it is she was. He wasn't Rhantelle, and he would never replace her, but he was something like her, perhaps.

She reached slowly to touch Cantarillaph's twitching ears, pulling her hand back abruptly as Niataph's harsh commanding voice resounded in her skull. Cantarillaph woke near immediately, his slate gray eyes blinking sleepily open and his little cyan beak opening in a giant yawn. Oh, are we going to go eat, Mine? he chirped brightly, then realized there were other eyes on him. He blinked owlishly and turned his attention to Xaph on the other side of the room, his ears pricked up and his tail twitched as he saw his brother and he warbled a bright and cheerful greeting to the smaller blue. He would have liked to further get to know his pale brother, and briefly likened him to the things that His had dreamed - they had been fun to chase, fading in and out of the clouds - but then the sternness of Niataph's message dawned on him and he returned his attention to R'lyeh. We should go! I want to meet all of my brothers and sisters and you should meet all of Theirs, Mine! We need to make lots of friends, and then they can help us later, when we need it!

R'lyeh got dressed and ready to leave in a blur, Cantarillaph's preferences weighing her choices - she didn't mind very much, it made choosing attire easier even if it meant she was primarily dressed in shades of blue and gray. The pair arrived at the feeding pens shortly enough, although a good many others had arrived before them. Near immediately Cantarillaph meandered away to greet his siblings and sing brief songs to any who would listen. R'lyeh was left to watch and listen to the instructions given her.

Cantarillaph came back after they had been given their tasks, and set upon the bowl of meat and nutmash set before him - he ate fairly neatly, careful not to make too much of a mess, and he looked up at His now and then as she butchered a goat carcass for him. R'lyeh worked in a similar manner - neat and efficient, if perhaps a touch too surgical. She arrayed the removed viscera neatly to the side, cutting out each piece and setting it gently aside, then cutting the edible portions into thin strips. Is it fun, Mine? You look so intense, Cantarillaph warbled as she pushed the sliced meat into his food-bowl - he was rewarded with a small nod and an affirmative noise. Maybe when I'm bigger, I can do it too,[/color] he shared, before setting into the rest of his meal.