Caught Red Handed (Open)

[zeis]

I preened and basked in the sun. It was an early spring afternoon, and the weather was pleasant. It was sunny, and the red canyon rock was a fiery orange red, baking with comfortable heat. And I think about taking a nap on this rock. K'huna tilted his head back a little, and simply enjoyed the sun for a moment. He'd had so little time for relaxation in the past week. His attention had been fixed on devising a lesson-plan for his future class, and as a result he had neglected his normal constant supervision on Canph. It was something he was now wearily regretting. Deciding against it, I scratch up the rock with my talons so everyone else will know, 'This is Canph's rock.' He blinked his golden eyes open, and set off across the canyon bed to where he had seen the red cavorting from his eyling ledge. Satisfied with my rock, I strut over to the pond beside it. In the pond I see my reflection. I'm very handsome.

K'huna was not the sole target of this self narration, merely one of them. In truth the red was broadcasting to all in the immediate area, and in a volume that wasn't exactly loud but hard to ignore. Not knowing there were others being forced to listen he had endured it for about an hour in patience, before some eyrie folk came to him to rightfully complain. He had avoided mental confrontation on the subject, because he had not wanted to start an all out argument in his head while he was trying to work and because his simourv had a habit of blocking him out. Canph responded more to physical confrontation, and that was what K'huna intended to give. He strode calmly towards his errant red, and locked his scowling eyes with mischievous ones. I manage to tear my eyes away from myself to notice my rider, K'huna, approaching with a stupid look on his face. I'm surprised that he has stopped being boring long enough to come see me.

K'huna stopped a short distance away from his simourv and crossed his arms over his chest. "Alright, just what the hell are you doing?" He steeled himself for the argument that was sure to come. He wouldn't let up until he 'won', and the red agreed to behave. You couldn't let Canph win arguments. Couldn't. In the interest of public safety.

Canph sat down, and curled his tail primly about himself. He made a show of examining his front talons as he spoke. As I check my claws for cracks, I explain it to my rider slowly, so he can understand, that I am simply entertaining myself. And... His brown eyes rolled to K'huna with a faintly devilish gleam. Is that so wrong?

K'huna snorted, and fixed Canph with a hard stare. "Cut the bullshit. You're getting on everyone's nerves." He was sure that others were probably hovering angrily about his eyling now, wanting to confront him but finding him missing. He didn't want to deal with both their complaints and Canph's incessant narrating, at least not at the same time.

The red simourv gave a slightly scandalized squawk of surprise, and ruffled his feathers. Shocked by these unwarranted accusations, I ask my rider for clarification. Did he not, I wonder, tell me to go off and find something to do? Canphs voice sounded hurt, and he postured himself as a picture of innocence with his head humbly bowed. K'huna thought his simourv was about as innocent and humble as his rider was sweet and gentle.

"That doesn't mean go out and annoy the hell out of everyone else for fun. People want you to shut up. I want you to shut up." The man admonished with a roll of his eyes at the display. Perhaps it may have fooled people who were not intimately connected to Canph as he, maybe those who had never met a simourv. But he knew the red devil better than anyone else, and saw the lie for what it was.

A suspicious feeling washed over K'huna for a split second, before Canph hastened to control it. The simourv's ears flattened, and he raked his claws across the grass repetitively. I innocently wonder... who said that... His voice was oddly reigned in, and from the job he was doing on the lawns K'huna guessed it was a desire for vengeance.

The rider gazed at him evenly, and then with a shrug of his shoulders startled rattling off details. "The biggest complaint came from a tall man, long black hair, pretty athletic. Not too friendly looking." He paused as Canph nodded hurriedly. I wonder where I could find him, for I would very much like to-... to apologize... K'huna thought for a moment, then replied. "He's probably somewhere in the canyon with his menace of a simourv that no one can stand."

Canph didn't notice his riders joke, and gave an oblivious spiteful crow of laughter. I laugh heartily at this unfortunate misfit, and wonder who it is! Zioph? Aburoqaph? Who- His tirade cut off as he noticed K'huna's raised eyebrow and accusing stare. He shifted embarrasedly where he sat, and ducked his head to be level with his rider. ... Touche, I murmur.

[Quill]

This warmth was foreign to him. He was used to the toiling heat of sweat, but this was different. At the top of a ledge, Jervace sprawled across the burning rock. He had taken off his shirt to massage his back muscles. Unfortunately, his first class had worn him down. He did not expect such a rigorous first day, with the falling and whatnot, but time could heal the pain like any other injury. When the heat felt like it would melt his flesh, Jervace rolled over, pressing his cheek to the rock. He fought back the drowsiness his body embraced. What an embarrassment to be found lounging on the ledges.

Before he had time to think about all the dangers he was in at the moment, a foot pressed against his back, soft spikes digging into his ground. The pain dispersed the rest from his body, but as the foot dug deeper, Jervace became more alert before grunting in pain. The candidate rolled around, looking at a tall man before him. Grabbing his shirt, the man threw the clothing at him before forcing him to his feet. "Lazy candidate," he mumbled before escorting the boy to the kitchen.

Soon he and many others were told about one of their many chores--the kitchen and the animals. He, the man explained, was one of the cooks and, for that moment, in charge of the extra food. In waves, he send the candidates out of the kitchen, carrying food to the feeding pens. Some groaned but Jervace smiled. The Eyrie felt very foreign to him, most of the time in a bad way, but tending to the livestock like this made him imagine living on the farm again.

The feeding pens were more merciful to the candidates. Jervace thought that was natural since reality for the cows and pigs were harsh enough. The people caring for them didn't need to be. He fed the animals for a while, spreading the leftovers for the pigs before he was stopped and asked to go to fetch more water.
"From a well?" he asked. That seemed like women's work to him.
"From the pond," a man answered, gesturing to a stream and then a pond where the water gathered. Jervace was confused. Get a woman to grab some water from the stream, but he did as he was told and scaled down the rocks to the pond.

As he moved, words boomed in his head. Words echoed in his mind moments before, but he pushed them away to listen to the other candidates and the animal keeper. Satisfied my rock, I strut pond beside it. In the pond I reflection. I handsome

He shook his head, assuming them were his own thoughts. Could candidate drive one insane, scattering one's mind. As he traced back the thoughts, he peered downward at the pond and saw a large feathered shape. Just a simourv, he thought. It was hard to adjust to the animals communicating by thought, especially since he had not conversed with many of them. The candidate took a deep breath, puffing up his chest and gripping his water buckets with purpose. Hopefully, his retrieving water would not offend/alert/or otherwise disturb the simourv from his loud narration.

[Kat]

Ros’n knew that Wegmeph’s desire to walk along the canyon bed rose from a need to identify the irritant which had the Simourv worked into a tightly wound frustration. Although the creature had not outwardly expressed his annoyance, Ros’n felt it radiating off of him and infecting her previously content mood. Her own temperament allowed her to easily ignore background noise, mental or concrete, as she had been conditioned by her own attraction to stimulation to filter environmental distractions, but the tighter, more organized, and more controlled mind of Wegmeph, meant that he struggled to ignore unwanted stimuli. While the Simourv usually had enough control of his emotions, which he often kept to himself, even veiling them from his rider, his current irritated state was easy to read, and buzzed around him like latent static electricity. Even though she was not bothered by the bizarre narration which floated through the back of her mind, Ros’n could not help but to feel the annoyance that her Simourv felt. As time passed, Ros’n became more and more upset, enough so that she had to discontinue patching a pair of pants, a difficult enough task of a woman who hated to remain still, after she had stabbed her finger with the needle twice and bled on the trousers she wished to tailor.

Finally, after the pair endured the chatter for a long enough period of time, and Ros’n finished mending the hole in the knee of her pants, she decided she could not stand the tension created by her Simourv. She moved, her long, bare legs extending her body upwards, so that she stood in the middle of the room, holding the pants she had just been fixing in front of her, wearing a pink blouse and only her undergarments. With a small hop, she stepped into her pants, and wiggled her body into them until they hugged the lines of her legs. She did not feel the need to dirty another pair of pants when besides the hole; this pair was fine, sentiment that triggered her stitchery. Without exchanging a word between them; Ros’n did not wish to interact with Wegmeph when he was so obviously frustrated, the pair left their Eyling.

Once they reached the Canyon Bed, Wegmeph hesitated to move, which made his already lumbering movements heavier and more grounded. Even though he was a blue Simourv, and thus smaller than some of the other colorations, he was large for his color, and was bulky and thick when he moved. Because he was so hesitant to follow the mental noise, Ros’n encouraged her partner with small, supportive, mental nudges. At first, she contributed his hesitation to the increasing loudness of the mental noise, but once she saw the shape of the Red Simourv, she understood. Even though the narration bothered Wegmeph, he did not want to complain to a Red Simourv; he worried about stepping out of place, acting inappropriately to an individual he viewed as his superior. Ros’n sighed, but she pushed passed Wegmeph’s reluctance and moved towards the Simourv and rider. She barely acknowledged the candidate as she brushed past, and she walked until she was close enough to K'huna to address the male rider.
”Does he do that all the time; I’m impressed you are not completely mad by now.”
Ros’n spoke with an apologetic tilt, as she tilted her head towards Canph. As soon as her lips moved, her mind buzzed with Wegmeph’s horror and disapproval. He snapped into her mind, mentally growling in her head.
”Can you act polite for once?”
The Simourv mentally hissed. He was not close enough to her to nip at her neck, a fact which pleased Ros’n quite a bit. She ignored Wegmeph’s criticism, and continued speaking.
”But Canph is driving Wegmeph crazy, and it’s getting a bit irritating. I don’t suppose you could make him stop.”
Although Wegmeph expressed more disapproval, a flash of anger towards his rider, Ros’n felt she was acting in a very refined and polite manner. Canph was driving Wegmeph wild, after all, and Ros’n was dealing with the fall out of her partner’s suddenly uncontrolled bouts of annoyance.

The woman paused, her hand toying with the end of the bow which secured her brown hair, twisting the lavender lace around her pointer finger, before she turned to Canph himself. She stopped twisting her ribbon for long enough to nod her head in a small, polite bow.
”I understand that you are bored, but you are being quite annoying; I don’t suppose you could stop?”
Ros’n asked. It seemed impolite to her to complain only to the rider, as truly, Simourv and rider were equals, and she would not be pleased if someone asked Wegmeph to punish or discipline her without directing the complaint to Ros’n herself. As she spoke, Ros’n’s eyes drifted to the candidate, and she flashed a small, reassuring smile to the candidate.
”He’s bothering you too, right?”
Ros’n questioned, clearly hoping for some support for her stance. She did not want to be the only person complaining, especially since she was not bothered at all, and Wegmeph was the real complainant.

((I hope you guys don’t mind that I thread crashed. I was already halfway through my post when Quill posted, and I didn’t want to abandon it.))

[zeis]

Canph's brown eyes darted from K'huna to the approaching simourv rider pair as well as a young candidate, and all at once his embarrassed posture shifted back entirely to his formerly cocky posture. He couldn't let anyone, even if it was just a blue and his rider, see him in such a state could he? As the other simourv approached, he shuffled backwards a bit to stand protectively over his warm rock that bore his mark. It was also just as important to protect his things. He flicked an ear dismissively down at his rider. The red didn't need his attention, with all its 'do this', and 'don't do that'.

K'huna felt whatever small progress he had made in getting his simourv to behave slip frustratingly through his fingers as Canph's gaze left him for something else. He glanced over his shoulder and spotted Ros'n and Wegmeph, a pair he was slightly familiar with, and a boy coming to fetch water. Their circumstances had earned some deal of camaraderie, but it was hard for him to earn and maintain many close friendships. I wonder why that is... K'huna thought acidly as his gaze turned back to Canph, who other than a mantling twitch of his wings ignored him completely. The boy he recognized from Ts'kals lessons. "Only when he wants to cause trouble." A faint smirk crossed his face. "Not completely, no." He slicked his hair behind one ear as Ros'n continued, and he offered her an apologetic look, while somehow still maintaining his scowl. "The attempt is in progress."

The red, who was expecting a less personally insulting diversion, ruffled his feathers at the direction this new distraction continued to take the conversation. He cocked his head down at Ros'n when she spoke to him, and flattened his ears back against this head. He flared his wings, and continued spitefully, upping the volume a little. I glare down at this human who's name escapes me, and whom I can't imagine why she was cho-

"No. Stop right there." K'huna interrupted him with a growl and a forceful mental push before the red could say anything really offensive. Canph blinked angrily down at him and huffed a loud breath of air, settling back like a brooding hen. His rider's attention was temporarily drawn again by the boy moving to draw water from the pond. "See him, right there? He's a candidate. He's going to be one of our future students. Do you want him to see you like this?" He asked his partner with a quirked eyebrow. The rest of his tirade continued mentally, in an attempt to spare his friend's pride. Because I don't want him to. We are both gonna be teachers, and if you keep acting like a child they won't respect me, but they sure as hell won't respect you either.

Canph's head dipped down at the thought, and he cast a sidelong self conscious glance at the candidate. He didn't need their respect, but that wasn't to say that he wouldn't appreciate having it. He was a red after all, and chosen to be their teacher. They should listen to him, because he had a lot to say. They were his students after all, and if they didn't learn then they would replace him and his rider. He wouldn't let another simourv have what was his. Maybe K'huna was right. He turned a slightly resentful glare on his bonded, before projecting a feeling of grudging assent and apology towards him alone.

"Ain't that sweet, but its not me you should be apologizing to." K'huna put his hands on his hip and jerked his head in a gesture over his shoulder towards Ros'n, Wegmeph, and the candidate. Then he lifted a hand and twirled a finger in a circular motion to indicate the whole of the Eyrie. Canph's response was an immediate growl, and a half hearted swipe of his claws at his rider who merely stood there as the strike was halted and pulled back before contact. K'huna snorted and waited expectantly.

Canph fidgeted and gave several grumbling squawks before finally broadcasting a quick apologetic feeling to the whole of the radius he had been pestering, coupled with a forced I'm sorry. that was at least sincere on some level.

[Quill]

He dipped his hands in the cool water, lifting his cupped hands before dropping the water into the pond. It was hard to resist his thirst, but the livestock needed it now. Them first, and then he could return to get a drink here or anywhere else. He blocked the red Simourv’s voice from his mind, but he had no experience in blocking out the simourv’s voices. Jervace groaned as he dropped his bucket in the water. Unable to pull it back up, he shook his head.

The candidate watched the blue Simourv land, and he groaned again, hoping the two wouldn’t project a loud argument. It eased his mind when the blue seemed reluctant toward the larger simourv. That seemed natural to him for regular animals, but not for those giant creatures. He had seen it from afar—the hierarchy the Simourvs had. It was easy to understand it, but not understand why it was there. At the appearance of the other Simourv, the red started his narration, so Jervace’s hands dived in the water and grabbed the metal handle, lifting it. He set it down to fill the other bucket when Ros’n walked by, a tiny gust wafting by him.

Jervace listened to her calm tone but he felt the sharpness in it. He felt the tension between them but did nothing, only watched. Then the woman turned on the other simourv and he felt nervous. Did other simourv approve of other riders addressing the in such a fashion. His worry dispersed when he caught the smile from Ros’n. The candidate twisted his mouth in thought.

”It is distracting,” Jervace admitted to Ros’n and then turned to K’huna and Canph, ”but, it is cool to hear what the simourv think, just not all the time or so loudly.”

K’huna didn’t need Jervace’s opinion on the matter. He seemed to have realized his Simourv was causing trouble by his matter-of-fact answers. Jervace flinched when K’huna referred to him. Jervace smiled. Often he heard that a K’huna would train them, from the Candidatemaster, but it felt good to meet his future teacher. And the fact the Wingletmaster used him to calm Canph down made Jervace stand a little taller ad lift the second bucket from the water with a stiff back and strong grip.

When Canph’s eyes focused on him, Jervace felt his confident wane, but he maintained it, setting the buckets aside, safe from spilling. The boy looked in astonishment as the sorry projected into his mind. Part of him wondered whether to answer or not. “You’re forgiven,” he said, keeping his voice firm. It felt ruder to ignore the Simourv’s apology than to attack his pride by forgiving, when the beast wasn’t searching forgiveness.

[zeis]

Canph eyed Jervace critically, and despite his recent repentance he clawed the ground with one foot in frustration at the boys tone. Of course, he was getting just what he asked for, but that didn't mean he had to like it. What sort of teacher apologized to his students? They should be apologizing to *him* for not being around to entertain him. He clicked his beak restlessly, and turned his brown eyes on K'huna with a glare that could kill. His voice sounded venomous, and this time was directed only to his bonded. Satisfied?

K'huna chuckled at Jervace, and shot the boy a slightly distracted nod of approval. The candidate certainly looked like he could handle a simourv. He'd heard offhandedly from Ts'kal that the boy came from a farm, so he was probably used to dealing with stubborn animals. Hopefully that would help him when the time came. His eyes turned back on his red to observe him for a moment, gaging the tension and pent up anger in the simourvs shifting muscles. Just because they were bigger than a house didn't mean they could do whatever they wanted. Everyone had to obey the rules, even simourv. He planted his hands on his hips, and tilted his head slightly. Yes. Are you? When Canph was silent for several seconds, he sighed and took a few steps forward to put a hand on one of his toes, quieting their restless kneading. Look, I know, I've been boring.

The large red flicked his tail, and folded his wings comfortably against his body, seeming to relax if only slightly at his riders words and touch. Whether this was because he was reassured or simply pleased at K'huna's admission of guilt was unclear even to him. He stroked the scales beneath his hand a little self-consciously, aware he was being watched and hoping against hope that Canph kept any further broadcasts to himself. I, eh, I'm sorry too. We can't avoid the work, but we'll take breaks. Make time for some fun. He shielded his eyes against the slanting sun, and glanced up into his simourv's large brown eyes. How's that?

... Better. Canph grumbled a reply in private, and hastily added. I guess... His eyes glanced furtively back to Jervace and Wegmeph and his bonded, leaving them out of the broadcast in an unexpected effort to save both himself and his rider from further embarrassment. The red settled down on the ground, and lowered his head toward K'huna, who reached out to pat his black and pink beak with usually hidden fondness. "Good." He turned to look at the small audience Canph had attained, and though he was still scowling, managed a smile. "Problem solved."

[Kat]

Ros’n was not the kind of person to remain annoyed at another party, and so she easily allowed herself to forget her initial problem with Canph almost immediately. Of course, her forgiveness came especially easy to her, as she had never been extremely bothered by the Simourv’s narration in the first place. Wegmeph was different, of course, in that he was still rather irritated, and because he was less prone to forgiveness than his easy-going and gregarious rider. Luckily for the sanity of the group, or at least for the peace which currently existed amongst it, Wegmeph was immobilized by his sense of duty to the Eyrie, and he would not violate the status quo around him. A blue did not challenge a red, or at least honor-bound Wegmeph would not challenge a red, despite his bonded’s lack of self-restraint. As the red simourv continued his monologue as a rather disrespectful quip towards Ros’n, Wegmeph did bristle, his body tensing with anger, and his feathers lifting. While the large creature did not move, his anger radiated off of his body like a tight threat. While he often found her entirely infuriating, Wegmeph loved his bonded, and tended to be far too overprotective. Although the girl was not insulted by the comment, she felt her own body react to her simourv’s anger. The hair on the back of her neck raised and her heart began to race. Her smile never faded, but in order to press the anger back, Ros’n had to take a deep breath.
”You know, I don’t know why I was chosen either. I’ve always figured it was a mistake or Wegmeph is simply daft.”
Ros’n quirped back to the red, and although Wegmeph’s fury touched her, she did not allow it to show beyond her inhaled breath and her newly reddened face. Her tone was playful and bright, as if she did not mind being insulted in the slightest. In truth, however, an element of Ros’n’s chipper response felt almost too sanguine, too cheerful, for a proper delivery of her mildly sarcastic reply. Unfelt by the people around her, Ros’n attempted to broadcast her contentment to Wegmeph, who, inspired by his bonded’s emotional push, calmed.

When Canph apologized, Ros’n’s grin deepened, and she bent herself into a small bow. Wegmeph also nodded his head, rather briskly, and not entirely pleased, in a symbol of submission but not forgiveness.
”You are forgiven, of course.”
Ros’n replied to the red. Ros’n had never really needed an apology at all; she had only desired to stop the noise which was driving Wegmeph to the point of exasperation. The creature to which Canph needed to prove his sincerity to was the large blue simourv, who only forgave the red out of duty, not out of desire or belief. Wegmeph sighed, his body shaking, as his bonded simply seemed to forget or ignore the insulting way the red addressed her, while he remained rather peeved.

When the candidate spoke, Ros’n shrugged her shoulders. His explanation was quite politically proper, as he agreed with Ros’n while answering in a way which avoided insulting K’huna. In many ways, it was an impressive answer, one which possessed far too much delicacy to have been spoken by Ros’n. The woman felt a wave of appreciation for the candidate’s reply from her simourv, who enjoyed displays of the political tact his rider lacked. Ros’s ignored Wegmeph’s esteem, although she gazed approvingly in the direction of the candidate.
”Oh, the novelty wares off rather quickly.”
Ros’n explained, and she opened her mouth to comment further, before Wegmeph forcefully shouted into her mind.
”Before you make a fool of yourself and me, introduce yourself to the candidate. I like him.”
Ros’n paused, turned to glance towards Wegmeph, before she turned towards the candidate.
”I’m Ros’n, by the way, and that is Wegmeph. He thinks I’m ill behaved, so I’m sorry for that.”
Even Ros’n was unsure if she apologized for Wegmeph or if she apologized for herself, as both of them, at least to the human part of the bonded pair, could be rather annoying, and only she was aware of her own tedious tendencies.

Ros’n was about to explain that Wegmeph was the one that made her introduce herself, when K’huna announced that he had fixed the problem. Ros’n turned towards him and glowed.
Thank you. I hope I didn’t cause any problems, but Wegmeph was really bothered, and he’s—difficult sometimes.”
Wegmeph was very displeased with Ros’n’s comment, and he growled a warning towards Ros’n, complete with a swipe of his tail, which Ros’n narrowly avoided with a small skip of her feet. His previously worked up state made him more prone to disciplining his rider, who was, luckily, used to such outbursts. She tilted her head to signal the fact that the simourv had just proven her point entirely.
”But that’s why I love him.”
She added with a small sigh and a shrug of her shoulders, despite Wegmeph’s mental broadcast of disapproval.