Lesson One: Bare Necessities (Bravo Winglets~)

[Fox]

K’ean had always been an early riser, but at times when he was worried or excited about an event, oftentimes he would be up hours before the sun’s pale rays peeped over the horizon. At the feast the night previous, the new wingletmaster had passed on the alcohol, all too aware of his own meagre tolerance and the importance that the next day would herald. He couldn’t afford to be passed out on his bed with a hangover wincing at every little sound. There was so much to do today! The Bravo Winglets would be having their first lesson! His first day as Wingletmaster! So, despite going to bed late after the events of the celebration (and his… date. The redrider still hadn’t quite forgiven Seronaph for that), K’ean had found himself awake at something like two hours before dawn. He was up, dressed and sitting idly on the ledge of the eyling, long legs dangling down into oblivion as the sun rose. Behind him, Seronaph roused slowly, opening a bleary amber eye to survey his rider and the obscenely early morning.

Sleep deprivation isn’t going to help you teach the Winglets.[/color] Was the grumpy greeting as the red lifted his head and stretched his wings languorously. I couldn’t sleep. Don’t I know it. Your thoughts were noisy enough to keep me up.[/color] A brief huff of laughter broke from the redrider as K’ean pushed himself to his feet. It was cold, but certainly not as cold as the days previous. Winter was melting into Spring. And it was time for the lesson. ”Wake the Winglets please, Seph. I’ll be by the feeding pens setting up.”

With hardly another word said, the red launched himself off the ledge, the buffet from his passing nearly making K’ean stagger had not the rider been ready and braced for it. There was no denying that the red was excited for this class; he had lost Altaph’s flight, so these hatchlings were not his children. But, as a Wingletmaster, he had perhaps more hold over them than their father himself. The thought pleased Seronaph to no end as he winged his way over the Winglet Barracks. He was tempted to blare his summons out to both classes, but for this first day, maybe, he’d relent. Just for today. Up and at 'em, Bravo Winglets.[/color] He ordered sternly, taking wicked pleasure in the volume of his projected voice. Time for your first lesson! Now, get your sorry, hungover butts to the feeding pens, because you’ll be learning how to feed your simourvs today! So don’t be wearing anything you would mind getting spattered with blood, hmm?[/color] There was an almost gleeful tone to the red’s voice as he came down with a thump and a cloud of dust right outside the barracks. He couldn’t wait to see the babies! Not that he would ever admit it though. It wasn’t… Manly. And stuff.

&

By the time the Winglets arrived, ushered in by a large, hovering Seronaph, K’ean was perched on a butcher’s table, idly cleaning his knife of blood, sleeves rolled up past his elbows to avoid the mess smeared over his hands and forearms. There were only three winglets in his class (the redrider was secretly thankful; he didn’t envy K’huna with his humongous group) and as such there were a proportionate number of animals, in various stages of dismemberment, arranged in a loose semi-circle. Several stable hands worked at the animals as K’ean had been as well a moment earlier, but there was still plenty of room for the Winglets to lend a hand. And they would be helping because it was vital that they learn this and learn this well. To one side, a few buckets of a white mash-- Chydyn nut mash-- sat, waiting to be fed to hungry simourv hatchlings.

”Good morning, Bravo Winglets.” He greeted impassively, surveying the three with polite distance. A tawny, a blue, and a green. Of the small group, K’ean himself had searched Evalyn-- Ev’yn now-- who had bonded to green Clymeph. He had not been introduced to the other two, though he knew them by name. Am’ra of Tawny Philomeph. Ma’ro of Blue Hummiph. The next generation, so to speak. ”Today you’ll be learning about the feeding and care of your simourvs.” He paused for a moment, gesturing with one hand to the bloody spectacle behind him. ”You will be butchering the meat for your hatchlings. It’s a bloody job, but a vital one. As some of you might know, adult simourvs take down and devour their own food without help from us riders, but until your hatchlings get big and strong enough, they will be needing your help.” K’ean pushed off from the butcher’s station, and gestured for the three to follow him. Approaching one of the workers, the redrider let the winglets watch how the man sliced meat from bone and pulverised the meat into something almost resembling a mince.

”Usually, you’d be skinning and gutting the animal first. Here, we’ve done that for you to save time, because we know the chicks are hungry--“ They’ll be hungry a lot more than you might think, Winglets, so be prepared to get your hands dirty! Baby simourvs have stomachs that could fit a cow.[/color] For a moment, K’ean’s lips thinned at the intrusion, but he simply shook his head. Off to one side, watching the proceedings interestedly, Seronaph had put a hold on his own breakfast to attend to the class. Amber eyes watched each winglet and their simourvs avidly, and the red took a rather malicious delight in trying to make them squirm. ”Yes, as Seronaph said, you’ll be doing this often for the next few months of your lives.” He conceded. ”Anyway, all of you should have undergone lessons with Ts’kal on the basics, so we’ll move on. When you remove the meat from the bone, be sure that you haven’t left any small bones in there somewhere.” Here, K’ean’s face became, if possible, even more serious. “Cut the pieces small. Double- and triple- check your meat. I don’t think I need to tell you that a piece of bone or a too-large piece of meat could choke a simourv.”

Dropping into a crouch as the stable hand moved off, the wingletmaster demonstrated what he meant, slicing the meat neatly away from pale bone. He then plopped the slab of meat on the butcher’s station and used the cutting board nearby to chop and mash the meat into smaller, finer pieces, suitable for a simourv hatchling. ”That would be small enough. Being careful with the knife goes without saying. Eyrie would rather not have it’s winglets chopping off their fingers, thank you very much.” Briefly, K’ean flashed the group a grin at the morbid humour, before continuing. Besides meat…” Here, he turned and gestured to the buckets of Nut mash sitting forlornly off to one side. ”Your simourvs can also eat that. It’s a mash made from the large Chydyn nuts. You break up the meat of the nut, grind it, and mix it with water so that it’s something like a very thick porridge.” Over by the buckets, Seronaph snorted in vague disgust. He had never liked nut mash, and didn’t see how others could. He wouldn’t naysay it, though, because it was certainly nutritious for the hatchlings. And they would need that nutrition to grow.

Grabbing a towel, K’ean wiped the gore off his arms and hands, before moving slightly away to continue his lesson. ”Now, your simourvs will grow fast. They won’t always be this small- “ Here, he jerked a thumb over to the massive red currently occupied terrorising a few poor stable hands. Seronaph took the moment to preen under the scrutiny before he returned to staring balefully at one particular lad who squeaked whenever he was discomfited. This was fun. ”-and after about a month, they’ll be able to take bigger pieces. When your simourvs are a year old, then they- and you- will receive hunting lessons.” K’ean shot them a falsely bright smile at the though. He was rather looking forward to that lesson in particular. Brightly, with a lopsided grin, he clapped his hands together. ”So. If there are no questions, start feeding your simourvs. We’ve got some food prepared already as you can see, but once you’ve taken the edge of that hunger, you’ll be trying your hand at butchering.” Was it just a trick of the light that K’ean’s eyes glinted with an amused anticipation almost twin to that of his red? ”Seronaph and I will be monitoring your progress and offering pointers if needed. When you’re done, call us to check the result and then you can feed your simourv the first meal prepared with your own two hands. After that has been completed to everyone’s satisfaction, we’ll move on to grooming.” Nodding decisively, K’ean raised an eyebrow at the three winglets. An almost smirk deepened the corners of his mouth. ”The day’s not getting any younger.”[/size]

[Cy]

[/I][/color] She reminded happily, feminine voice ringing soft and sweet. With a light chuckle, the former fisherwoman stole a few more moments to stroke and kiss at Philomeph’s head before she allowed the hatchling to drop down so she could stand and go about getting dressed in a simple tunic and pair of trousers. Leading the way with a happy stride, Philomeph followed with a joyous and graceful prance of her own. She moved with such elegance; she expected to be admired. Admiring things was such a lovely thing to do. She adored admiring things! She admired the green of spring grass and the pastel colors of sunrise and the chirp of birds. It was all just so complete and beautiful! It would be nice for such complete and beautiful things to admire her too.

Standing at attention alongside her Am’ra, they observed the actions of the teacher as he demonstrated the process of fixing meals and they listened to Seronaph as he butted in. The student was eager to learn, watching technique and method as closely as possible, sneaking smitten peeks to her tawny continuously before returning her attentions to where they belonged, but Philomeph found herself consistently distracted. Seronaph had a lovely bonded! A lovely bonded that had a lovely voice too! He was strong and he handled that knife so smoothly, and that meat looked so delicious! Her tummy gurgled, she was hungry. Oh! Look, there was her blue brother and her precious green sister! She chirped a greeting to each of them, oblivious to how her quiet noise might interrupt the class. Everything was just so wonderful here, she was surrounded by loved ones! Her tummy gurgled again, reminding her of the lesson at hand and she quickly returned her blue eyes to the working teacher man as he encouraged the students to try their hand at it all.

First, she was fed already prepared scraps and Philomeph wolfed them down without mind. It was so delicious! She wiggled anxiously for each piece, staring brightly up at her beloved, and Am’ra giggled as she handed off each small slab of meat until the bowl was empty. Licking at the nut mash next, it wasn’t quite as good as the protein, but – oh well, she loved it too! Yum, yum, yum! She ate it all up without complaint.

Finally, picking up a blade and setting herself up with a carcass, the true task came about. A native of a fishing village, she was familiar with scaling and gutting great catches, some as big as the body set out in front of her, but herdbeast was still a totally different animal. She tackled the chore with slow and deliberate actions, keeping in mind how she’d watched it performed just moments before and playing it precisely by the book. Occasionally, she dared to cheat and peek to her side to see how her classmates managed. She was pretty sure that Ma’ro used to be a hunter, so she primarily observed him from the corner of her eye. He’d know what he was doing. With this tactic, she steadily made her way to the end, small pieces of meat gathering up in a pile. Philomeph sat patiently at her side, staring up at her and watching her work, proud and encouraging. Soon, able to set down her blade, she double-checked over what she’d already sliced. Biting at her lip, she found herself unsure. There were no small bones, but the cuts seemed so thin. Perhaps in her attempt to make the pieces small to avoid choking her dear Philomeph, she’d made them too small? She offered a tiny glance down to the tawny seated at her side before straightening up and raising her hand obediently to catch attention and hopefully get approval on her work.[/ul][/size]

[Kilnarak]

Ma'ro awoke to two things: first, an unfamiliar voice resounding loudly in his head, and second, the small blue simourv who was trying his best to burrow under both Ma'ro and his blankets. Hummiph shivered and whimpered at Seronaph's loud voice, trying to hide against His - if only he got close enough, then perhaps he might be safe. The albino was, initially, confused by the small simourv's presence in his bed - Yukimori never climbed onto his bed, not since she was a puppy; she wasn't allowed to sleep there. It took a moment for him to remember that Yukimori was not here - he had left her with his uncle for a few days while he figured out how to acquaint her with Hummiph. And that thought lead him to the realization that it was, in fact, the newborn blue that was pressing into his side.

Ma'ro did not remember returning to the room the night previous - he hadn't even been shown where his room was, which lead him to believe someone else had shown him there. He hadn't drunk much during the feast, but still, so much had happened it was difficult for him to put it into order so that it made sense. Hummiph had been terrified, and the small creature's fear and panic were nearly overwhelming. It hadn't occurred to him that Hummiph would want to sleep beside him, since Yukimori did not. For now, it would be fine, however he was sure that Hummiph would eventually outgrow the bed - and he frowned slightly as he thought of this and wondered if he shouldn't accustom the hatchling to sleeping away from him now, while he was still small. But as Hummiph caught wind of this thought, the dark-blue simourv only nestled closer to His, hooking his little talons into sleep-clothing and tangling himself in blankets - he wouldn't! he didn't want to! he needed to be near His!

Ma'ro sighed softly, discarding the idea for now and instead stroking Hummiph's head and ears lightly until the young simourv relaxed. When Hummiph finally settled down, Ma'ro continued carefully petting the little creature's ears as he stated: "We cannot stay here all day, Hummiph," and he frowned slightly as he felt the hatchling tensing again, burrowing. "We cannot be late for our lessons, and there will be food for you." Hummiph whimpered softly and continued burrowing until his dark form was completely lost beneath blankets and furs, bedding. I want to stay here, his voice was a whisper but it held the faint hint of a whine. I want to stay here, Ma'ro. It... It isn't safe out there.

The albino frowned down at his young charge, then began the careful process of extricating Hummiph from all of his blankets and bedding. For all that the little blue whined and clung to the blankets, when Ma'ro's arms wrapped around him and somewhat awkwardly lifted him free of his burrow, he relaxed again. Still, he did not look very happy about the entire endeavor, and instead he tried to curl himself up onto His Ma'ro's chest. "If we do not go out, my little shadow, we cannot grow to make it safe," he murmured, stroking Hummiph's ears again, and offering the hatchling a reassuring, if slightly spare, smile when Hummiph turned his wide-brown eyes up to him. The hatchling blinked slowly and shivered, nuzzling his beak into His' chest. You won't leave? They won't take you away again? he asked, finally, his voice soft and sad. We'll stay together?

"Of course," Ma'ro smiled a bit more broadly down at the little blue, before carefully lifting the hatchling off of him and setting him somewhat awkwardly down on the floor. "But first I will have to get dressed," he laughed softly down at Hummiph, before going about finding clothing suitable for meat-preparation. Hummiph followed His about as the young man got ready, nearly walking on the albino's heels. While Ma'ro did not trip over the young simourv, he did have to watch his step; eventually he did find decent enough clothing for the day - old garments, warm enough but well-worn, things he didn't particularly mind dirtying.

The newest blue-pair made their way to the lesson grounds, Ma'ro setting an easy pace for Hummiph to follow, and Hummiph keeping carefully in the albino's shadow. The young blue slunk low to the ground, trying to make himself as small as possible, and keep as close to his as possible. He wished Ma'ro would carry him, like he had after the hatching - but Ma'ro had assured him that would only gain him more attention and so instead he walked. When they finally reached their wingletmasters and fellow winglets, the two stood a bit apart and listened - Hummiph nearly pressed to His' legs and staring with wide eyes up at the giant form of Seronaph, intimidated. He would never grow so large, so bright, he could never be that. Everyone would look at him, he wondered how the red could take it, every day, all the time?

Hummiph was distracted, watching the red - he did not notice K'ean releasing the winglets to go feed their charges and prepare more meat. He only realized when Ma'ro began to move away, toward the buckets of meat and nut-mash. The little blue keened in distress and hurried after his, slinking so low to the ground his belly brushed the sandy dirt. The young simourv bowled into His in his rush, nearly knocking the albino over. Ma'ro gathered Hummiph up, trying to calm the hatchling, and once Hummiph had stopped trembling he began to offer him strips of meat mixed with globs of ground Chydyn nut and water. It was a fairly messy process, and Hummiph was initially reluctant, unhappy with the idea of eating in front of his siblings. But eventually hunger won over, and he took the messy clumps of breakfast from Ma'ro's hands.

By the time that portion of the lesson was over, Hummiph was taking the food readily and licking the sticky remains from Ma'ro's hands. He even offered up a quiet, happy chirp after the meal was over, when His wiped clinging bits of the meal from his beak and ruffled the soft feathers at his cheeks. But the chirp turned into a startled squeak when Ma'ro got back to his feet, and Hummiph pressed to His' legs again, clingy, as the former hunter began cutting apart the carcass as he had been bade to. Ma'ro went about dissecting the carcass in a quick and rather efficient manner, although as he got to the point of preparing the meat itself he slowed, making certain that the slices were not too thick, avoiding gristle and bone. He didn't seem to notice that Am'ra watched him as he worked - or if he did, he didn't show it, focused on his task.

[Fox]

The other good thing about having a small class was that it was by far easier to watch over his winglets. With only three people to teach, lessons could be conducted on a more personal level and perhaps even in a slightly more relaxed manner as time passed. K’ean certainly wouldn’t be averse to getting to know his students; on the contrary he rather hoped for it, though he was aware enough of his own lacklustre social graces to not expect much. Still, he would do his job and do it well if that was the last thing he did. Being rather fatalistic there, mine.[/color] What was the problem when there was due cause? Soon enough these little hatchlings would be koxi killers, no longer the little balls of fluff that were so fascinating and amusing. Personally, it was much too soon for K’ean, despite his knowledge of just how badly the Eyrie needed more hands on deck, so to speak. These winglets were young yet. If not in years then in experience.

With a faint sigh, the redrider dragged himself back from his moment of idle musing to walk, circling the three winglets they fed their simourvs first then moved on to the actual act of butchering. Seronaph too loomed over them, the shadow from his large body blocking briefly the pale sunlight before a mental swat from K’ean induced him to move. There would be no slicing of fingers because of a lack of light, thank you very much! The man noted Am’ra’s covert observation of Ma’ro, but did nothing beyond offer a slightly raised eyebrow before moving on. Here, there was nothing to stop her from observing and copying the technique. Ma’ro was good; it was plain that he was used to this, and it would not harm her to pick up a few things from watching him. The raised eyebrow remained even as K’ean moved over to appraise her work; it was fine, as requested, but now the slab of meat resembled something of a meat patty. Absently, he murmured to himself, ”No bones, sliced fine. It needn’t be so small next time, hmm? Though better too small than too big.” He flashed the girl a brief, encouraging smile. ”Go ahead and feed it to your simourv. I’d bet she’s still hungry.”

At the next station, Seronaph watched Ma’ro methodically prepare his Blue’s meal with distant approval in his amber eyes. Waiting for the albino boy to pause before he spoke (the Red didn’t wish to startle someone wielding a knife), Seronaph offered the grudging, abrupt comment; Good work.[/color] Inclining his head briefly, as his K’ean was otherwise occupied with the Tawnyrider girl, that should Ma’ro wish to feed that to his simourv, Seronaph had no objections. Well. Other than the fact that he was sure His could do better.

One again, the redrider returned to his comfortable perch against an unused station, having made one more circuit to make sure all the winglets’ jobs were running smoothly. He waited a little while for the simourvs to finish eating (though he would bet money that they wouldn’t remain satisfied for long) and then it was time to continue the lesson; grooming was next. ”Right, class. Now that your simourvs are fed, we’ll be teaching you how to keep them clean. And speaking of clean, towels are over there. You might want to get yourselves sorted with those first before we have our demonstration.” A faintly amused grin tugged at the corner of the redrider’s mouth. Here was where Seronaph came in, and with great pleasure. ”The first thing you need to know is that you should not bathe your simourvs in water.” Not that they would be raring to go for a dip; it being winter and all. You never knew, though. ”Their downy feathers at this point will only soak up the water; leaving them with a miserable, heavy waterlogged coat of feathers that would take hours to dry off completely and might lead to sickness because the down won’t be doing much to keep them warm anymore. What’s more, wet, heavy feathers would be more than enough to pull a simourv underwater.” K’ean’s face had melted back into its original seriousness as he looked at each winglet in turn, seeking to drive his point home for another long moment before relaxing a bit. Enough with the scare-tactics; the man was sure that they’d gotten the point by now. ”If, when spring comes, you want to have a swim, then stick to the shallows and keep a towel on hand, hmm? Best for everyone that way.”

Spotting a slim blue feather on the ground by his boot, K’ean stooped to pick it up before lifting it to illustrate the point he was going to make. ”Now, then. See those feathers all around you? That’s your simourvs shedding feathers. They’ll do that pretty frequently all through their lives, because the feathers grow in to keep up as your simourv increases in size. But it’ll slow as they reach adulthood.” An amused smirk flitted across his face. ”There’ll be a lot of them; expect your rooms to be swimming in feathers for the foreseeable future.” As if to underscore his point, Seronaph chose that moment to stretch his wings, and one long feather drifted lightly to the ground between the winglets and K’ean.

Don’t just throw them away either.[/color] The Red said irritably, fixing the Winglet class with a narrow-eyed look. Simourv feathers are valuable, and they could probably be put to good use.[/color] He then turned his attention quite obviously to the little simourvs; Philomeph and Hummiph and Clymeph. Molting will itch.[/color] The much larger simourv informed them bluntly. The best way to deel with it is like this…[/color] As K’ean also turned to watch, allowing the spotlight to go to his simourv for the moment, Seronaph snapped his wing forward, dragging his beak through the feathers gently, arranging and preening. Preen. Everyday. It’ll dislodge any insects or bits of fluff, as well as loose feathers. Just don’t pull out any that haven’t already fallen off.[/color] He folded his wings again, settling them ostentatiously, feathers ruffling in pleasure from the attention.

K’ean resisted the urge to roll his eyes at his simourv. He turned back to the rest of the class. ”Right. Also, the simourv alternative to bathing. Instead of water, as I explained earlier, simourvs enjoy a thing called a dust bath. Brace yourselves.” Sure enough, at the words ‘dust’ and ‘bath’ strung together, Seronaph stretched his front legs lazily in front of him from his position sprawled out on the ground, before flopping onto his side, rolling and twisting and raising a cloud of dust that fair stung the eyes. As his simourv gleefully raised as much of a loud as he could from the canyon floor, K’ean continued unfazed. ”The dust coats the feathers and helps to prevent nasty little insects from taking hold. It also gives the simourv an extra layer of protection against the elements. Of course, if any of your simourvs don’t take well to it, a damp-- only damp mind you-- cloth wipedown will do just as well.” Behind him, Seronaph lumbered to his feet again, feathers somewhat ruffled but looking very much like the cat that got into the cream. Pleasure radiated off of him in waves.

”Try it out, why don’t you? It’s fun.” K’ean said, eyes dropping the short distance to look at the day-old simourv hatchlings. He grinned crookedly as Seronaph echoed his encouragement wordlessly, practically thrumming in pleasure as he twisted his neck to preen his back feathers. [/size]

[Cy]

[/b] She chirped, whipping around to delicately snatch up the cuts she’d made so she could dutifully hand them off to Philomeph. Warbling proudly, the tawny gobbled them up as quickly as she’d done with the meat before, her stomach growing warm and full. She loved that feeling. It made her seem so much more complete than when her tummy was empty! She ate until she was filled to the brim. Fortunately, the meat was gone at just the right moment, or else the young simourv would have had to deal with the confusion of an aching belly.

Holding her hands out to the side, conscious of the way they were sticky with blood, she grinned down at her life partner and Philomeph stared back up at her, big eyes filled with love and the single-minded joy that came with simplicity. Returning her attentions to the words of their teacher as they all finished feeding their simourv, she was looking to the towels that had been generously laid out for them and she was moving quickly to grab one up, wiping her hands down as efficiently as she could manage. Her fingers still felt sticky though and the smell of meat remained on her skin, but it was the best that could be expected and her eyes were once again returning to K’ean as he continued their lesson. Her eyebrows rose with the revelation that water bathing would not be a good plan for Philomeph and her gaze dropped down to the hatchling, inadvertently imagining her sopping wet and sneezing with sickness. It was a sad sight, especially with how innocent the tawny looked as she peered around at everything around with a neverending curiosity. Right, no water for little Phil – and only sticking to the shallows if she ever got the urge to swim.

Philomeph perked to attention as the wingletmaster crouched down to pick up a feather, holding it out for them all to see. She blinked, the dim gears of her mind cranking. That color was such a familiar color. It was blue – and her brother was blue! A mental gasp filled her with concern as she straightened, whipping her head around to find and focus on her sibling. ‘Hummiph! Are you missing a feather?’ She cooed, tilting her head. It was such a sad thought, missing feathers. It was so… incomplete. Was she missing feathers? Stretching out a stumpy wing as much as she could manage, she studied it, but, if anything was missing, she couldn’t tell and she was returning her eyes to the front. Another mental gasp filled her and she watched the red feather of their elder drift carefully to the ground, staring at it as if the weight of her gaze would be enough to keep it from hitting the ground. When it did, she started. ‘Seronaph! You lost a feather!’ Oh, this was such a worrisome event.

Confusion filled her caring eyes as she listened and observed, tilting her head this way and that. Molting, preening – careful not to pull any out, oh she’d be so very careful! She flapped her little wings as much as she could, rising up gracefully to her toes, a simourv smile gracing her beak as she puffed herself up proudly. Her wide eyes only grew wider as the great red suddenly threw himself into the dirt, rolling and tumbling, and he seemed so very happy about it. It must feel good. She wanted to be happy too! She loved being happy, being happy was just such a wonderful thing to be! With giddiness fueling her, she smoothly flopped to her back and wiggled, rolling from one side to the other and then back again. The dirt was so cool and little puffs of dust rose up with her frivolities, stray downy feathers floating away as they were freed by the scrape of ground. Off to the side, Am’ra giggled with the antics of her simourv, turning away slightly and raising a hand up to her face to try to keep the dust rising into the air from getting into her eyes.[/ul][/size]