Who We Are [Eceph's First Hatching]

[Kilnarak]

As more and more candidates filed their way out of the sands to the quickly set-up feeding area just outside, N'raan's gaze strayed more and more from his Teimoph - instead he looked to each new pair to exit, searching for his brother. But Kenii had yet to show his face, and a twinge of worry gnawed at the edges of his mind. He wasn't sure what to do about it - what if Kenii wasn't chosen? Would he still be able to bring the boy with him, to the Winglet hall? He'd be damned if he left his little brother, Kenii'd probably go off and do some fool thing and get himself killed. His fingers absently clenched and unclenched in Teimoph's feathers as he crouched beside the red - he held the posture easily, although it didn't look the most comfortable to hold for long, sitting on his heels.

Teimoph had consumed the better part of another bucket of meat and now seemed to be sated, if only for the moment. The broad red sprawled beside His, absently licking blood and bits of meat from his talons and feathers. The volatile red looked sedate enough, although whenever a new simourv came out of the sands, he shot them a warning glare and growled low and threatening at any to come near him. They were all his siblings, yes, but they were also all his rivals - the males especially, but at the moment the females also. The only ones he did not growl at were the new Phoenix pair - they deserved respect where the others did not. He did not go to greet them, however - not just yet, he needed to clean the blood away first; but soon he would have to introduce himself to Laraph.

"Teimoph, would y' be arright stayin' here fer minute?" N'raan mumbled, looking away from the gaping entry-way into the sands and down toward his red. "Wan' t' make sure 'nii didn' get himself killed," he bared his teeth briefly, trying to sound amused. Teimoph knew it for a lie, His was worried... He didn't understand why; but if it pleased His to look after that smaller, weaker creature that was His' sibling, he wouldn't argue.

You want me to stay here, Mine? If I must, Teimoph growled softly, ruffling up the feathers on the back of his neck. But if any harm should come to you, Our wrath will make them tremble and beg for mercy We will not give. That declared, the young red flicked his ears back, hissing his annoyance, and slowly uncurled his tail from about N'raan where it had previously been wrapped possessively. Part of him wanted to go with His, to make sure nothing went wrong - but he could sense that His did not approve of that idea. He didn't understand that either, but for the moment he was content to leave it be. His stomach was full, and while he wasn't exactly happy, neither did he feel the need to tear anything into little bloody bits. Well, except for maybe that man, the one who had barred their way - but he was nowhere nearby at the moment and Teimoph did not care to rise to search him out.

N'raan stroked his simourv's downy head briefly, almost reverently, before rising to his feet with a languorous stretch. He hesitated a moment, looking over the others around him - looking for K'huna, as he wondered if the senior redrider would try to stop him again - then slunk quickly and quietly back into the nesting cavern to look for his brother. He told himself he wouldn't be long, he'd just check up on Kenii; and he could feel Teimoph's presence just outside - a strange sensation to say the least, but it didn't feel entirely out of place. He would be fine, he just needed to find the boy...

Outside, Teimoph slowly rose to his feet, stretching in a mimicry of N'raan's earlier display. He surveyed his gathered siblings somberly, whuffing through his nostrils in displeasure. They had been weighed and found wanting, in his opinion. He had been the first to hatch, the first to become aware of their new environment, to see their mother - he should have precedence, but they didn't acknowledge it. He felt it only his right - no, his duty - to enforce it!

So, growling and feinting snaps at his smaller siblings, Teimoph began to muscle his way amidst the other simourv - the greens and blues - shoving them out of the way so that he could take the choice bits of meat from their own breakfast. He wasn't hungry, but still he took as much meat as he could carry in his beak, growling all the while. After he had gathered what he felt his share, Teimoph strode out from amidst the others, moving purposefully toward the gray Laraph and the black Dionyph. As he arrived, Teimoph laid the meats down before Laraph - an offering - and mirrored Dionyph's bow as he did, fluttering his little wings out in a flourish. A gift, he stated curtly, fixing his intense golden gaze on the gray.

He held her gaze a moment, then almost covertly turned his attention aside to his larger brother - more a glare now. His hackles rose, the feathers at his neck fluffing up, and a low hiss escaped his beak. Our brother should have offered one as well. You are deserving all of it, and more. He both looked and sounded displeased, unimpressed by the error in the black's ways. A queen deserved gifts! Offerings! Didn't Dionyph know anything?

[ I butt in. Because the idea struck me while I was trying to sleep. >> I'll post for Teagan after I figure out if you're gonna have Ripley come back for her, Kat. ;p In other news... I have decided that playing Teimoph makes me feel like I'm trying to play Heat from DDS. This amuses me. ]

[Kat]

Dionyph was horrified when Teimoph approached. This was the red who had harmed the girls who Ri’ley now helped. Teimoph had been the one to give Ri’ley a purpose, but it was not a good purpose, it was an evil and cruel purpose, Teimoph was mean and violent, and he should not have hurt the girls. They were innocent, and it was proper not to hurt the innocent. Did not Teimoph understand chivalry? Those poor girls suffered because of him, and so their simourvs suffered because of him—his sisters and brothers! Dionyph lifted his head at Teimoph, as if he lifted his nose at the smaller hatchling; it was an action of judgment, one which expressed a sense in his own superiority. Dionyph was the black, after all, and Teimoph was just a red, and not a good one at that. Dionyph would never hurt the loved ones of his siblings. In fact, Dionyph had sworn to protect his siblings. It was his eternal duty, and Teimoph clearly had no sense of duty. Still, Dionyph had to admit that he should have brought Laraph a gift. Laraph deserved the best, his greatest affection, and any tokens of that affection that he could provide. Dionyph hated that Teimoph had thought of the gift and that Dionyph had not. What if Laraph became fonder of Teimoph than Dionyph? How would Dionyph live without his Laraph’s affection? How could he deal with the humiliation of her preference? Why, he would lock himself in a room, and he would never leave, so that Laraph did not have to gaze at his unfavorable visage. Surely, that would suffice.

Dionyph puffed up his chest and wiggled his body into his full size, so that his large size was displayed to anyone who looked at him. Because he stood next to Teimoph, the fact that Dionyph was larger, smaller, out of his siblings, only than his glorious queen, could easily be spotted, especially because of the black’s puffed feathers. Dionyph bowed again, this time dropping himself lower, so that he was almost stooped on the floor, in the deepest, most submissive bow that he could muster.
My lady, I am so sorry I neglected to offer you an offering.
Dionyph did admit his mistake, raising his body from his bow as he spoke. Teimoph did think of serving the gray in a way which Dionyph neglected. If he was anything, Dionyph was honest; he admitted his mistakes, because he believed that he needed to be honest. He was not a manipulative beast. He was a creature with a conscious of gold, ruled by duty and honor. Lying was wrong, morally offensive, by Dionyph’s standards.
I’m afraid I was too distracted aiding my bonded as he tended the wounded.
Dionyph tilted his head towards Ri’ley, whose arms still held L’nan. F’ah had been ushered away by the other medics, as the young surgeon eyed their work skeptically before admitting that he needed help. Ri’ley could not tend to them all; he was over extended. Upon viewing his bonded, Dionyph’s confident, but submissive, expression twisted into one of worry, his eyes blazing with anxiety. His was so anxious, so worried, and Dionyph could tell that the day’s events were wearing the man physically, emotionally, and mentally weakened. And it was all Teimoph’s fault! Dionyph’s somber and low tone held a touch of accusatory resentment, which was barely detectable, but certainly existent.
But I do not feel the need to buy your affection. I count on my strength of character and dedicated service to prove my devotion to you, my lady.
The comment was definitely an attack on Teimoph, but Dionyph managed to deliver it in such away that the aggressive aspect was cloaked. He sounded absolutely serious, without any anger or animosity in his tone, and his slow, plodding delivery emphasized the second half of the statement, the part which pledged himself to the gray.

Dionyph almost bowed again, but decided the action would be too flamboyant, and instead, he lowered his head in a small, passive nod. Dionyph paused; he knew what he wanted to offer the queen, but he could not think of the best presentation of his superior gift. Dionyph turned his head, twisting his body to the side and stretching out one of his wings, so that he could pluck one of the large, leading feathers from his grand wings. He chose his feather carefully, so that he plucked the largest and blackest feather on his body. His color, after all, marked him as a knight, a true ruler of the hatchlings, and fit to serve the gray in a way which the red could not. The red had a few, dappled black feathers, but they were not the same kind of black. Dionyph’s black feathers were darker than even the inside of his egg had been—pitch black, consumptively black, and therefore superior than the red’s feathers. By choosing one of his wing feathers, Dionyph mused, he picked an important feather, and made a true sacrifice to the queen. He dropped the feather on the ground and nudged it forwards towards Laraph with his beak.
I offer you this feather as a pledge of my extended and dedicated loyalty. I will serve you for the rest of my life, and my feather is a symbol of my promise.
Just giving the queen the feather would have been a lousy offering, but what Dionyph offered was not his feather, but his service. The feather was just an emblem of himself and his service, of his devotion to the gray. He hoped that she would accept it for what it was worth—him, Dinyph the Black of Ri’ley.

((I’m sorry! I just couldn’t help myself. A real Ri’ley post where he does something other than just standing will occur eventually, I promise. Erm, and sorry for spamming. ))

[Fox]

The melee of hatching was beginning to sort itself out as the new winglet pairs made their way off the sands, leaving behind only those who had yet to bond, those who were injured, and those who were tending the injured. From L'nan's viewpoint, she could see Ripley tending to Teagan and then Serenity as she tried to figure out just how she planned to move. Already, the woman had one arm thrown across Eoreph's downy withers and a fierce frown of concentration wrinkled the skin of her brow as she tried to get into a position through which she could at least move of her own accord. But, it seemed, her legs would not cooperate and the pain when she tried to move now was almost beyond her ability to tolerate it. Even so, L'nan wasn't dead yet, and while she could still move her legs and arms, she would not consent to being carried (help was perfectly fine in her book) or otherwise transported off the sands.

Eoreph, legs bowed to bring her back down of a level with L'nan's shoulder, was concerned for her bonded. Really, she was much too proud and stubborn for her own good sometimes, and it worried the little simourv that the woman would possibly conceal the extent of her injuries in order to satisfy that pride. After all, there was only so much that Eoreph could do short of betraying L'nan's confidence to another. L'nan...[/color] the little Tawny ventured with her shy, quiet voice, brown eyes conveying her concern just as well as the tendril of feeling that extended along their shared connection to brush against L'nan's consciousness. Her L'nan was the most important; Eoreph cared greatly about her brothers and sisters and their riders as well, simply because she was a loving, motherly little soul, but L'nan would always be first and foremost in her heart, and right now the simourv was afraid that Hers might hurt herself trying to help others.

"I'm fine, Eoreph." the woman answered aloud, more to convince herself than her bonded. Eoreph knew perfectly well how much pain L'nan was in; the rider hadn't yet mastered the skill of shutting off her negative emotions from her simourv, and the burning sensation in her legs was transferring over to her tawny. "I just need to move." This last was said through gritted teeth as L'nan tried to ignore a fresh wave of pain. A glance showed that, thankfully, she hadn't ripped any of her stitches yet, but it was probably a close call. She had just decided to take a break, sweat already standing out on her brow, when a long shadow fell across her. L'nan barely had time to let out a very undignified squeak before arms had scooped her up as effortlessly as she would have picked up a newborn.

Ripley's voice rang out over her head, calling to Amira, and finally the midwife equated the chest she was staring at with the person holding her. Immediately, she struggled, but a lance of pain up her legs put a quick halt to that effort. "Put me down!" came the demand a moment later, as L'nan dismissed the man's distracted apology with an angry narrowing of her brown eyes. What did he think he was doing? How dare he touch her L'nan? Their thoughts mingling into one, Eoreph was quicker than her rider to react. With a hissed snarl, the normally placid tawny was suddenly in front of Ripley, tail lashing angrily and brown eyes baleful. She was a quiet creature usually, but she was a simourv nonetheless, and her rider would always be foremost in her heart. The hatchling remained where she was, downy ruff raised aggressively, until Dionyph's turned and apologised most thoroughly for any offense meant. Even as L'nan again demanded that Ripley replace her feet firmly on the ground (despite the fact that she probably wouldn't be able to stand on them anyway), Eoreph's feathers smoothed. No matter what her black brother might believe of her, forgiveness was something that the tawny had in plenty.

None taken, Dionyph's Ri'ley. She spoke directly to him, the first person to whom she had done so since her L'nan. At first, her voice was clipped in memory of his atrocious manners, and then, as she continued, her tone reverted to its quieter, shyer cadence. If I may, could you please ensure that my L'nan does not walk? She will try to, but her legs hurt her more than she will say.[/color] And then, with her quota of words for the day filled, the little tawny turned attention completely back to the woman cradled in Ri'ley's arms.

Meanwhile, L'nan crossed her arms as best she could while holding her right arm carefully and waited. She fumed, lips pressed into a thin line, as Ripley (she still didn't know his rider title) spoke first to Eoreph, then to K'huna. By the time he had pointed out that there was still one injured girl left on the sands, L'nan had had quite enough of being toted around like she was so much baggage. Yes, her legs were injured. Yes, so was one of her arms. No, she would not lower herself to having to be carried. Brown eyes flashing dangerously, the young woman raised her good hand and hit Ripley soundly across the shoulder. "Ripley!" She snapped, her voice sharp as the blade the Phoenix carried at her waist. It was the voice designed to cut through the chaos of panicking family members and wailing soon-to-be mothers, and as long as L'nan had been using it she had found it surprisingly effective. What's more, the glare she leveled at Ripley was cold enough to freeze blood and, disturbingly, a smile played around her lips. "Put me down. This instant." Her voice had returned to an almost conversational timbre, but in her words there was a barely concealed warning.

Eoreph sighed. [/size]

[Kat]

Leannan was a difficult patient. In fact, Ri’ley had decided that she had determined to make his job as difficult as possible. Her struggling was not a problem for Ri’ley, really, as he had her tightly wrapped in his arms, and her small body could not disturb his hold on her—his large arms were thoroughly tight around the girl’s body. Still, her thrashing was aggravating, and it was bothersome, and it made his heart beat a little faster as the more she moved, the threat of her damaging herself further increased. Ri’ley would be very upset if she was hurt more; he would feel responsible and guilty. His lips pulled into an angry, tight line. He wanted to smack her. He wanted to hit her to show that she was being utterly absurd and infuriating, but of course Ri’ley would not lay a hand on a hurt woman, or really anyone without good reason. He might have a temper, but Ri’ley was not a violent person. He did not harm other people; he was a healer. It was a nice thought. She was thrashing around in his arms, against his bare chest after all, and it was not the most comfortable feeling.
”I’ll put you down once we get off the sands.”
Ri’ley snarled through his tight lips at L’nan, his voice almost threatening, and dripping with annoyance. He did not have the energy to deal with a patient like this, and Leannan was being absurd. She knew she could not walk. He knew she could not walk, so how else was she supposed to leave? Did she want to crawl off the sands? That would exhaust her. It would leave her vulnerable, and it might get more sand into her lacerations, which meant she would get an infection. Or that the sand would hinder healing. It could be awful. And the girl was serious about Ri’ley not carrying her. Ri’ley, of course, was not helping the issue, treating her with a bitter gruffness and speaking to her through his gritted teeth. This was the Leannan he remembered, whiny, difficult, and infuriating. She must have not changed at all in eight years.

Ri’ley was relieved when Eoreph accepted his apology. It would have been easier to ask the simourv first, but as it was, both parties, excluding L’nan, seemed to be on the same page. Dionyph was less thrilled at the other simourv’s acceptance. It was not as total an acceptance, as the black simourv would have wished. He hung his head, as if in embarrassment.
She thinks you have bad manners. You need to prove that you have good manners. You will need to work to prove her otherwise, because it is of upmost importance that everyone knows what a good rider and leader you are and will be.

[/i]
Dionyph dictated to Ri’ley who ignored his simourv’s words. He did not have the time to care about the way people perceived him. Right now he was very focused on making sure all the candidates on the floor still lived. He was focused on ensuring L’nan was alright, and that Teagan did not bleed out on the floor. If people thought he was a pushy, arrogant, cruel, ugly bastard, he would not care; he just wanted everyone to be healthy enough to recover without any permanent damage.
You will care later what people think of you, but I do not think that anyone thinks so poorly of you yet.
Dionyph sighed as he listened to his simourv’s words. They were both bothersome and comforting, and Ri’ley did not have energy to sort out a way to reply. Ri’ley focused instead on Eoreph’s words, which both increased Ri’ley’s pride and caused him a flush of worry. The tawny simourv confirmed Ri’ley’s fears, but at least Ri’ley knew that he was doing the right thing, that he was right and that Leannan was wrong.

Ri’ley reached the edge of the sands before he replied again to L’nan. He had been glaring ahead, trying not to meet her icy gaze, which, when he spotted out of the corner of his own brown eyes, sent a wave of frustration through his body. It was not anger he felt, but extreme aggravation. His lips were tight, his jaw was set, and every time she struggled against his grip, he tightened his hold on her to prove that he did have the final say in this situation. When he reached the edge of the sands, Ri’ley dumped the girl, very gently, but not very gracefully, onto one of the ledges glaring at her the whole time.
”You are the most aggravating woman! I can’t believe how little you have grown up over eight years.”
Ri’ley fumed, staring at her angrily, while he crossed his arms. Ri’ley then turned around to storm towards the sands again, but before he did so, he turned around to look at L’nan again.
”And don’t let anyone else touch your wounds. I started the suturing, and I have the right to finish it.”
Ri’ley’s tone was very conflicted. It sounded just as frustrated as his previous statement, but there were other undertones as well. He sounded possessive, as if he really wanted to finish the work he started, but underneath the possessiveness was a hint of deep concern. The truth of the matter was that Ri’ley felt that if he stitched the woman, she would heal better, and he wanted her to heal in the best way possible. The possessiveness of his voice was not a need to control her, but a mask for his concern, which he was not about to admit to infuriating L’nan that he felt.

Now that L’nan was out of his arms, Ri’ley stomped away from the other winglets, his feet slamming into the ground, and his body tensing with his jaw tight. He was clearly aggravated now, clearly furious, from his interaction with L’nan. The emotion carried over and infected him, and Ri’ley could not keep his calm demeanor any longer. He wanted to remain calm. He wanted to be cool and relaxed and comfortable, but he was stressed and tired moving steadily to his breaking point, which he rarely reached. He had always been working with someone else, but now he was alone, or rather, he was in charged. He would never be alone again. Dionyh’s presence, although distracted, was a comfort.
”I’m going to help Teagan.”
Ri’ley proclaimed as he stormed passed K’huna, without moving his gaze from the fallen girl on the sands. Although his comment was directed at the red rider, Ri’ley did not even glance towards the other man. He was focused, and he did not want to be prevented from continuing.

Walking across the sands provided Ri’ley with a small break to pull himself together. He became much calmer, before he reached the girl still lying on the ground. He looked at her for a second, glancing from the girl to the blue simourv. Luckily, it seemed the candidate had bonded. Ri’ley then could help the girl off of the sands.
“Teagan, I’m taking you off the sands now. Please don’t give me trouble.”
Ri’ley announced, as he scooped the younger girl up in his arms. He hoped she would be less difficult than Leannan had been. Ri’ley could not deal with another difficult patient. It would be too much for him. When Ri’ley reached the edge of the sands, he placed Teagan down on another ledge, before he moved to lean against the wall of the cave. He needed a moment to collect himself, before he actually went to tend to the wounded people who now were all off the sands. There were only a few more candidates to bond. It was almost over, and once the hatching stopped, he could retrieve his medical supplies and fix everyone properly. It would be a huge relief. After he tended to everyone, then Ri’ley could sleep, curled against Dionyph’s body. In his haste to help everyone, Ri’ley had not realized that he neglected his simourv. While he was retrieving Teagan, Ri’ley had no idea what Dionyph did. He looked for the hatchling, and once he found his simourv’s black rump, he smiled. He would let Dionyph fraternize now. Had Ri’ley realized Dionyph bothered another winglet and her hatchling, the surgeon would have collected the beast in humiliation, but for now, Ri’ley relished in the mental presence he felt, not focusing on his simourv’s actions, but rather his simourv’s presence, which made Ri’ley feel focused and connected to something so much greater than his self. He needed that connection and comfort, because otherwise, he would have felt alone.
[/blockquote][/size]

[winged]

Tucked away from the eyes of those whose attention remained fixed on the un-attached simourv still wandering the sands, Laraph and I'dou had comfortably settled into their own little routine. The gray had, predictably, set on the bucket of slaughtered meat with newfound vigor placed in front of her. The noisy slop of bloody chunks and gibbets being rent by her curiously sharp beak was punctuated only by I'dou's occasional gruff warning "stop tryin' to shove it all down your gullet at once!" The young woman hovered protectively at Laraph's side at all times, one hand still glued to the chick's flank, buried in the soft down.

Laraph listened (after an inquiry as to how one shoved food down whatever a "gullet" was), and slowed her pace to one less frenetic and more becoming of the dignified little lady she supposedly was. That was not to say she ate daintily - it was only proportionate that her appetite match her impressive size, and she'd put it off for so long with her dreamy evaluations that it was gnawing with painful, renewed vigor at her insides. She tore as cleanly as she could at the raw stuff, but a beak was not a precision tool. Blood splattered the lovely orange detailing on her chest, the colors mingling to produce a garish stain where her proto-feathers matted beneath dried egg fluid and blood.

But it was good! And its speedy arrival made guessing her meal's origins handily vague. Something had died, but its death meant her sustenance and the chick heartily agreed with such logic. She was, after all, gray - even if it was becoming increasingly hard to tell underneath her coat of grime. I'dou minded more than did Laraph - temporarily lifting her hand only to rub her coarse fingers together with a grimace for the gunk coating them, the winglet avowed to locate a bucket and a rag to clean her partner off with - she wasn't squeamish, but there was an underlying sense of pride in her Laraph that made her current display an unsettling one.

That didn't seem to deter the more dogged males, however. I'dou raised a disapproving eyebrow as Dionyph sedately approached, notably relieved of his rider's presence. The black chick had bonded to...

'Ri'ley, I'dou. Oh, he's bowing to me!' Delightedly observing Dionyph's show of fealty, Laraph's intelligent brown eyes seemed to brighten as she paused mid-bite. Dropping her bit of meat, the chick nudged hers in delight as if to jostle I'dou into observing alongside her - look how nicely he bowed! He was a good black, and oddly familiar...had she spoken to him before? I'dou seemed none too happy to have the solitary black posed so dramatically before them, and that unhappiness duplicated itself as aggressive Teimoph padded over to present an offering to the now chittering Laraph.

'Oh for the love of...' Unwilling to finish that expletive while Laraph could so easily feed off of her antagonism (and perhaps learn a naughty word before she ought), I'dou glowered at the red, before returning her disapproving scowl back to Dionyph. They were what, all of an hour old? What newborn fought to grandstand for a female's attention? What, she asked!

'They are only doing what they should, why are you so upset?' A note of concern crept into the gray's shimmering voice, weaving itself tightly around the sharp bends and turns of I'dou's disgruntled thoughts like a silvery stream. The simourv didn't understand I'dou's anxiety, though she tried to soothe it with an affectionate press against her rider's side. She still loved I'dou! These were her soldiers, I'dou was her compatriot! Her other half, they would do marvelous things together!

The woman's temper abated (slightly) at the comforting, her metaphorical feathers settling once more before she fell to watching quietly as Laraph dealt complacently with her competing champions. Wordlessly she rose from her half-crouch before her meal, padding those few steps to nuzzle Teimoph with brief affection, thanking him for his thoughtful presentation. 'Thank-you Teimoph, you are very kind.' She knew somewhere in that feathered chest lay compassion, and she hoped to encourage him in that direction. Compassion for everyone - not only herself.

After lingering before the red a moment, she turned to the larger Dionyph. He who had plucked one of his very own feathers for her cause - cooing for a moment over the selfless devotional, Laraph nuzzled him as well, and then brushed affectionately against him as she passed on her way back to her rightful place alongside her rider, but not before plucking Dionyph's sacrified feather from the sands almost reverently. 'Thank-you, Dionyph. You will be a great help.' She had no doubts of his bright future...possibly at her own side. But time would tell - she had plenty of time to think and muse.

Returning her hand to its comfortable spot, buried in Laraph's down, I'dou visibly relaxed as the formalities seemed to come to a conclusion. She was relieved that nothing violent had risen from what seemed like empty frivolities for her - there was no sense arguing over it, though. "...bet you're hungry, aren't you?" Addressing Dionyph directly, I'dou glanced with renewed recognition back towards the sands - Ri'ley was helping the injured, so he probably hadn't the time to feed his simourv.

Well. I'dou had been no use to those injured herself (which she still felt a twitch of remorse for), so she might as well try to pay it forward. As the Phoenix raised her hand in the attempt, Laraph caught on and generously nudged forward the remnants of her own meal - she'd much rather have the fresher pail, anyways, and her poor champion must be hungry! 'Eat! You need your strength, Dionyph.' It was a gentle command, but a command all the same. Laraph would see no simourv starve!

[Bre]

You disappear with all your good intentions . . .

Marion stumbled, actually stumbled, when the green reared up and pawed at her chest. She was taken by surprise, genuinely taken by surprised, and for once, her feet faltered. M'rion, are you ready to go see the world together? Your Romaph traveled far to find you! Isn't this exciting? Everyone's together, noisy, and excited! Ooh, I'm all charged up! I feel like I could dance! There was a voice in her head. Marion, now M'rion, clung to that fact as Romaph pranced about, falling over backwards. She reached down to help the green, but her simourv was back on her feet in an instant, rubbing against her legs like a happy cat. Her simourv. Hers. She had bonded. How had that happened? She wasn't a candidate. She'd never been searched. Energy that wasn't hers flooded her mind, the excitement of her Romaph. She felt overwhelmed, out of control.

It had been a long time since she had felt like that. She could handle anything. She had control of her life. But now what? M'rion knew that she loved Romaph. As soon as the green's mind had touched hers, she had known that. She reached down to pet the nuzzling hatchling. The motion was unsure, as if she didn't believe that the lively creature could be real. In response, Romaph trilled happily, prancing about, nudging her hand, begging scratches with her ever present gusto. Blinking her eyes, wide and soft, a smile absent from her just parted lips, she didn't look like the Marion that G'rael knew for a brief moment, not that he knew what she looked like at all. She looked smaller, less sure, portraying the ghost of what she had been. What was she supposed to do? In the blink of an eye, her life had changed. She was a rider, not a messenger.

But Gabrael had bonded as well. In fact, he was talking to her, voice cracking. M'rion blinked at him and her express quickly brightened, glad to see his cool composure cracking a little as he leaned against his blue. "Looks like it;" she chuckled, replying to him a bit belatedly. Patting Talmaph fondly, since Romaph hardly seemed to mind, prancing joyfully about for the rest of eternity, M'rion sidled over and wrapped her arm around G'rael's shoulders. "Sweetheart, first thing you gotta learn, anyone can hurt anyone. Talmaph gets that. Though I won't. My, isn't the world confusing? Come on! Rom, you want food?" In response to her chatter, the green let out a triumphant cry, twirling about. She wouldn't stop moving, even though energy was slowly seeping from her body. Hatching had been very tired but, hey, who cared!

Darting forward, Romaph nudged at Talmaph. Come on! Come on! No point in standing around! Not everyone is as slow as you, Talmaph; she teased him, pressing against his shoulder, a bit more cheerful and innocent than M'rion but sickeningly similar when it came to how she was behaving with her brother. She just wanted to go! To move and dance! Twirling in a circle, she stumbled forward, nudging people out of the way as she nearly fell, not quite perfect on her feet. One day, she would get it! M'rion reached out and steadied her, laughing, the noise free and clear from her mouth, releasing G'rael momentarily. An open space had formed around the two of them, the crowd clearing back to give the two stand bondings and their unruly companions space. Once the green settled a little, M'rion returned her arm to G'rael's shoulder.

"So, I'm M'rion now. What're you?" Tugging lightly at him, the young woman started forward. Romaph raced along ahead of them, pushing towards where the others waited outside the nesting cavern. She wasn't overly protective or possessive, content to run off. It was M'rion, in fact, who became concerned when the green left her side. For a moment, she tugged more insistently at G'rael. Then she just took off, pushing her way through the crowd savagely. Get back here, Romaph! She didn't want to be alone. She wanted to be close. All of a sudden, there was the green, racing back to her, waving her long tail like a pleased dog. Hiding her relief, grinning from ear to ear, she gave her simourv a pat, following her to food at a dead run, laughing as Rom had to keep up with her. Things had changed. Everything had changed.

. . . you disappear with all your good intentions.

[Cy]

[/i], had bonded to the blue that had hurt her. They'd bonded? What, had she not helped her friend enough? She felt angry, she felt hurt, she felt bitter. She whipped her head away with her mouth set in a harsh frown, roughly bringing a hand up to wipe the tears from her eyes. She felt things she'd never felt before. She'd never been accused of having a temper, never been accused of being ungrateful or hopeless or upset. But suddenly, she wasn't sure she belonged here at all and she wanted little more than to just be able to go home.

Looking over her wounds, the ugly sight of dirty cuts breaking up pale skin sobered her. With grim determination, she squeezed her eyes shut again and clenched her teeth as she shifted around to her knees so she could move to stand. Once more, the lacerations screamed against such actions and the tears she'd smeared away were swiftly replaced, shining along her cheeks as she finally made it to her feet.

She wanted to cross her arms, to become closed and inconspicuous, but what wounds sat upon the thin limbs would not allow this. Instead of marching off the sands as her previously defiant thoughts might have suggested she should do, she moved to the side to inch around along the border of the cavern to find a new place among the candidates. She pushed Teagan to the side of her attention; she was bonded now, and she had more than enough bonded allies that could help her off the sands. She doubted the girl would even notice that she'd not come back. Instead, she found a place among the rest. She sought out her old position, right next to Elan, before turning to look over the rest of those that had bonded and those that were still searching. And her gaze caught on simourv within the crowd - and not the crowd of candidates.

Confusion wrinkled her brow, her mind struggling to wrap itself around the possibility. Those that hadn't been searched, those that had not been part of the lessons, those that were not standing on the sands... were bonding? They were getting simourv of their own, becoming winglets before she was? Her eyes strayed and drifted over the rest of the spectators, workers from the lower caverns that she'd not paid any mind to because they were in a space separate from those that were standing. They'd not been searched, they posed no threat to her chances of reaching her dream. And now they had. Now the odds were no longer in her favour as those that had actually been chosen outnumbered the hatchlings and eggs remaining. Tucking her lip in between her teeth, she chewed uncertainly, carefully bringing her eyes back to the heart of the event. And her cuts stung fiercely, as strongly as her heart did.[/ul][/size]

[Kilnarak]

Teimoph's feathers ruffled up as Dionyph tried to use his larger frame to intimidate him. The smaller red wasn't cowed, however, he wouldn't be intimidated by a creature made of more bluff than substance - he doubted Dionyph had the conviction to carry through. He was larger, yes, but he was soft. His posturing, his excuses, his not-so-subtle jabs: they all only served to anger Teimoph, lighting the short fuse that was the red's temper. He growled low and dangerously at the black, a warning, and he clicked his hardening claws on the stone floor beneath him.

Excuses, the red snorted, slowly - slowly! - lowering himself into a sit. He played at calm, he would show he wasn't afraid, but if Dionyph kept trying to push his dominance by posturing, Teimoph wouldn't hesitate to put his larger sibling in his place. And then the young queen thanked him, and his glare twitched away from the black to focus back on Laraph. His ears pricked up with pleasure as she nuzzled him, and he cast a not-so-covert glance aside to Dionyph - Ha! The queen had liked his gift! And Dionyph had nothing! Of course, my Queen, he purred - but the sound ended abruptly as Dionyph found his own gift for Laraph and the gray's attentions turned instead to him - lingering longer than they had on him! No! That was wrong! He had been first! He was the first!

Teimoph stood abruptly, his tail lashing behind him and his ears set back. His anger was only compounded as Laraph pushed a few tidbits of her meal to the black, feeding him! I am not so fool as my brother, he hissed as he spoke, the sound issuing from his beak like the rattle of a snake about to strike. I would not cripple myself in swearing to protect you. What good is a warrior, if he cannot fight? If he cannot fly? His hot yellow gaze swept from Laraph to Dionyph, and a short, challenging sort of shriek issued from his throat as he glared at the black.

Inside the nesting cavern, N'raan felt his bond's agitation and glanced back briefly - he wondered if he should go back out and try to stop Teimoph from whatever it was he was about to do. But Teimoph didn't want for the interference, and N'raan hadn't accomplished what he came for - he still needed to find Kenii. Besides, if someone was provoking his red, it was their own damn fault if they got hurt - they should have known better. Telling himself this, N'raan continued skulking along the edge of the sands, following the wall around to where the waiting candidates remained. Kenii was easily visible now that their were so few people remaining, and N'raan slunk toward him, meaning to sneak up behind him.

As he drew nearer his brother, N'raan moved more slowly, careful to keep quiet - he didn't care if the others saw him, let them, so long as Kenii didn't. And then he was nearly upon the boy, and he placed both hands heavily upon his brothers shoulders, leaning over his shoulder. "Hey!" he called, coaching his voice lower, louder - trying to make Kenii jump, to think he was someone else. After his initial 'assault,' however, N'raan resumed his more usual tone of voice. "Y' still here? Figured one've 'em would've picked y' by now, 'nii. Mayb' one've th' blue ones 'll come over? 'r tha' green! 'r th' black!" He draped his arms loosely over the boy's shoulders, leaning on him as he looked about the chamber at what was left. There weren't that many hatchlings, and their were more candidates... He frowned, wrinkling his nose slightly. Those weren't good odds, not for his brother.

As he mentioned it, however, one of the blues did seem to be heading toward them - albeit, following in the shadow of a few other candidates - one of them the 'giant' (Ripley) and the other a girl he didn't know. All black and blue and white, the little creature paused before them and gazed somberly at N'raan, his dull yellow eyes chastising. The little creature kept it's guilt-inducing glare fixed upon the pair a moment, then realizing the humans it had been shadowing were getting farther away, it loosed an indignant squawk and scrambled after them, leaving N'raan to wonder just what that had been about.

---

T'gan was left laying in the sand for some time, the stinging pain in her legs made more bearable by Othokenph's presence. And also by that of her would-be healers, particularly Amira - hers was the only face among them Teagan knew, the two boys were strangers. She smiled softly for the other girl, glad to see her even if she was somewhat embarrassed by her own state - none to impressive, torn and tattered.

She was about to call Amira back, ask her to stay instead of going to find help, when the blue blur hit Amira and bowled her over before materializing near one of T'gan's other would-be healers, snapping at the Phoenix. T'gan blinked, confused by the woman's presence - she hadn't seen her come over, she hadn't been looking - even as she shied away from the excitable little simourv, leaning further into Othokenph.

T'gan's blue eyed the Sradivaph, concerned moreso for his sibling than for the Phoenix. He's just protecting His! I would do the same! Would it help, T'gan? his dull amber eyes flicked up to His, questioning. The girl shook her head, offering the little blue a smile. "N-No, not right now, Oth," she said his name like 'oath', and Othokenph pricked his ears forward interested. Oth? Oath? Is that me? But I'm Othokenph! T'gan laughed softly, trying to distract herself from the pain in her legs and the drama going on around her. "It means somethin' like a promise, a pledge. It fits, doesn't it? Oth?" The blue considered it a moment, then chattered excitedly and bobbed his head. Yes, yes! I didn't know what it meant, but I do now! I like it, Mine, he chirped, nuzzling her side.

As T'gan distracted herself with Othokenph, she did not notice Kito's bonding right away - the boy had been moving away from her to check on something else. She only saw the blue with him when she looked up to see where he had gotten off to. She blinked, frowning slightly as he simply walked away with his own simourv in tow. She couldn't begrudge him for leaving her, however - had she been able, she would have also left the sands to see Othokenph fed. Instead her eyes flicked to Amira, noting that the girl had gotten up, was moving away as well. T'gan's frown deepened and a furrow formed between her brows. Amira was leaving...?

"Ah... Amira? Are... are you okay?" she called after her friend, trying to push herself up and flinching. At her side Othokenph squawked, both trying to support her as well as stop her - he wasn't sure what to do! No no no! Mine, that hurts! You'll hurt more! he whimpered, pressing tight to her side.

Neither girl nor simourv remained thus for long, however, as Ripley stomped his way across the sands to them. Othokenph fluffed up his neck-feathers at the man's approach, briefly startled. He didn't know what to do about this either, and he loosed a questioning, hesitant hiss as the man lifted his partner from the sands - the sound becoming more serious as T'gan flinched at the movement. "It's... It's allright Oth. He's helpin'," T'gan reassured the blue, then nodded, her face strained, to Ripley, "I'll try not ta."

You're going to help? You know how to help? Show me how to help mine, Othokenph loosed his flurry of questions at Ripley, one in quick succession of the next. He bounced to his feet, following after Ripley and his like a lost puppy. He chattered pleasantly to himself as they walked toward the entrance, happy that his would be helped now! But then he saw something that made him pause - two boys, one dark-skinned, the other pale, standing toward the back of the cavern. He recognized one, if only through his sibling. That one! He was bonded to Othokenph's brother! The one that had hurt his T'gan! The little blue did his best to scowl at the boy, disappointed. But then he realized His was getting further away from him, further than he liked, and with a short yelping squawk, he hurried after her. He had to stay by His' side! He would help!

[Bre]

And we break and we burn . . .

The Peasant blue moved extremely slowly as he plodded forward, motivated to move but not motivated enough to do it quickly. His bright blue feathers were covered in sand and grit, stuck to them with the innards of his destroyed egg. He didn't look as handsome as he had at first, but he would grow and he would once again be a pretty beast. He didn't even care. Chivalry hadn't died; it lived on him. More so than in any of his other brothers, given that his motivations were more pure and far less dramatic than any of theirs, them and all their frivolities. Not that he was about to give judgment. Moving ponderously forward, he eked his way towards the candidates, looking them over with each step, searching for the quickest route to his rider. However, he didn't yet know who he was looking for, which put a damper on his strategy as he hunted.

The Aristocratic blue knocked one boy out of the way as he stalked amongst the candidates. He wasn't violent but he didn't particularly care about anyone except himself. Perhaps he could just go! That reckless thought raced through his mind. However, that was when he saw her. Yes, her. He didn't want some boy. He wanted the best and she was the best. Knocking another boy, a little, lesser boy, out of his way, he charged towards. No one else was worthy of her. She was his. Serious to his last breath, he encircled her, knocking yet another candidate out of the way. If anyone wanted to fight him, bring it on! He didn't care. If he died one day in the future, so be it! He would defend his world and his rider. Those were his weaknesses. He didn't care about anything except for the land where he had been born, the very core of it, and his best girl.

E'an; the blue said firmly, informing of her new name like it was an order. She was E'an now. She needed to understand that. None of that Elan business. That wasn't proper, not that he cared about manners. He just wanted her to be E'an and she had better understand that. Your Kaslimeph needs food; he ordered, eying the candidates around them. If any got within striking distance, he was tipping them over, just like the others. He was a skinny little devil, but only Talmaph was bigger than him amongst the blues and he was well aware of it. He was going to compete with all of the reds and blacks. A warrior in his soul, the reckless heart, he was ready to fight and win at whatever he did. I am glad I found you; he grumbled after second, figuring he should make that clear, serious as a heart attack about all that he said.


435875 - serious, haughty, foolhardy, confident, reckless

The Peasant blue was growing more hungry with each and every step. Most of the others were gone, all having chosen a rider from those available, leaving just one green, three blues including himself, and one black. Oh, a green! Suddenly remembering himself, he turned in her direction and dipped a swift bow. With any luck, he would get to talk to the Guardian green later. For the time being, he had to forge on until he found his rider and the food he would get from that. While his motivation for selecting a rider may have seemed a little selfish, it wasn't really like that. They were going to have fun! He was sure of it! Along he went, moving along the edge of the clump of candidates. He would take a step and then look around and then take another step, moving with infinite slowness. He wasn't going anywhere fast, even if he was hungry.

The Noble black was still making his way amongst the candidates, weaving amongst them far away from his newly bonded blue brother, Kaslimeph. They didn't exactly get along. Seeing that the blue had already chosen, he began to hurry. Brave and brash, he had to choose! He was careful not to hurt anyone, but he nudged people out of the way. Only boys, though, he just wanted a boy and he wanted to be a gentleman. In fact, he was a gentleman, mannerly in his behavior, just a little rushed. Finally, though, it all paid off! His rider! His rump immediately sunk to the ground as he sat, long tail, disproportionate to his body for the time being, curled around his feet. He looked the part of the noble, valiant gentleman right then, head held high. He met his rider's eyes without fear, confident in his choice, if perhaps less confident about other things.

Gr'y, your Rixasileuph is happy to make your acquaintance. Now, we must forge onward! We have many an adventure to have before we are both grown and old! Both polite and cheerful, he seemed quite pleased with himself, dark amber eyes still intently meeting his rider's gaze. Their eyes had met and they had bonded. That was how it had worked for him. However, at long last, he picked himself up, expression of his love done. He would stand by his rider and that was enough. Anyway, he wasn't lying; he wasn't a liar. He expected them to do much over the next couple of years. I would like to greet my queen as well. I believe all of the others have done so. How the young black, the last to hatch, knew that he had a gray sister was beyond comprehension. A simourv learns plenty while in the egg. They're born ready to run.


000000 - valiant, brave, courageous, gentlemanly, foolish

. . . and we turn it inside out.

[maiwolf]

[/color][/b] He asked himself, as if he weren’t quite sure of how to say that he was hungry. And he still eyed M’rion when she moved closer to His like she was going to attack him, but she had mentioned food, and now Romaph was nudging him. He wasn’t slow! He looked at her, about to speak, when he noticed that G’rael was standing up. Quick eyes spied his rider getting onto his feet again, and he stood, too. His pace was awkward, but he decided to move into the open space M’rion created when she moved away, pushing protectively against G’rael’s legs.

G’rael, for his part, knew that Talmaph could see, and knew he would probably walk as straight as he could (and finally not worry about running into anything!), considering the fact that Talmaph was pushing against him. Poor Grasswhistle, his seeing-eye-dog, it looked like she wouldn’t be needed anymore. But he didn’t think he could have kept up with Grassy and Taly. Taly! What a wonderful nickname! Talmaph seemed to like it, too, and he even let his guard down enough for M’rion to come back and drape herself on G’rael’s shoulder. Oh, what a pretty new name, M’rion, and he realized he had unconsciously started calling her that, anyway, though he’d been thinking it was said a different way. Good thing he didn’t say her name, first. “Well, Taly called me G’rael. Oh, yeah, and I nicknamed Talmaph. Sorta came to me.” Yes, he was a quick nickname; he knew Grasswhistle’s nickname before he had even chosen her full name. The man shrugged, and started forward with M’rion.

They stayed that way for a couple of steps maybe, Talmaph pressing very closely to G’rael’s side, making sure M’rion didn’t do anything too bad, before G’rael noticed M’rion tense. She started tugging at him, and he tried to walk faster, confused but at the same time scared he would trip (I won’t let you! Talmaph declared cheerfully), before she just left him altogether. Now this wouldn’t have been so bad, but the poor man had been depending on her (and Taly, don’t get him wrong) to get him to where he needed to go. So Talmaph took over, walking awkwardly to where he saw the other simourv hatchlings, his clutch-siblings. “Wait, M’rion!” G’rael called belatedly, but the crowds had swallowed up his sound, even as they parted for the ‘lucky blind man,’ he heard them say.

But they were respectful this time, and Talmaph, for all his awkwardness socially, proudly walked (tripping a few times, in which G’rael thought he’d die if Talmaph hurt himself because G’rael couldn’t see) beside His. Just keep touching me…? Taly said with a bit of a question as he corrected their walking angle. They were now walking, trudging, really, because Talmaph didn’t want them to trip or anything. Food could wait, as long as His was fine. He began doing a small hop-skip, because he was happy he’d found G’rael. And G’rael followed to the food. For maybe the first time in a very, very long while, G’rael was happy, truly happy.
[/ul][/blockquote][/size]

[zeis]

Kenii did jump when Niraan snuck up behind him and grabbed him. Not only did he jump, but he also attempted to jab his elbow backward into his assailants ribs. It was reflex of course, a move that Niraan himself had shown the boy to use when evading capture. Thankfully the elder boy was too quick for it to make contact, and the red headed candidate shot him a brief and rare look of apology. He wasn't sure who had been. A simourv chick he hadn't seen? Maybe a red sneaking up on him? Or possibly the wingletmaster coming to toss him out of the sands.

At his brother's comments, he remained silent, and simply turned his eyes moodily out on the remaining simourv chicks. He wasn't so sure it was that easy. Nothing in life came easy for Kenii, he always had to bust his hump to keep on top of anything. Why he thought that bonding with a simourv would be so easy, he wasn't sure. Was there really anything he could do differently? The boy was having a hard time trying to come up with a 'try harder' solution to being mentally judged and weighed on criteria no one but the alien minds of the birds knew. Discouraged, he leaned back into his brother only slightly, keeping up a tough if mildly troubled face.

~~~~~~~

The Lordly blue nodded and chirped politely in the right places in his conversation with his servile brother. Though honestly, his interest in his sibling for now was fading. He was interesting yess, and of course he would like to maintain contact in the future. But something more important was rising in his mind, a choice to be made, and soon. The candidates left on the sands were dwindling, with his last black brother and several other blues and greens selecting their riders. Yes, he thought perhaps the herd had been thinned enough. His dark gold eyes turned back to his brother, humoring him for a few moments more before tactfully excusing himself from their chat. Perhaps they could continue it later? Right now, he had pressing matters to attend to.

Those pressing matters were candidates on the nesting sands. He stood smoothly, and gently shook and dusted sand from his dull denim feathers before striding leisurely toward the remaining possible riders. He knew his partner was here somewhere, and that really waiting had been the smart thing to do. His siblings would not choose his partner after all, would they? When they had theirs waiting for them. If anything, the process of elimnation he allowed his siblings to conduct for him made his task all the easier. He paused before Amira with a civil stare, then continued onward through the crowd, stopping by Kenii, and Jervace respectively.

He found his lurking in the back of the crowd, and made his way there with a fond but not overly excited warble. Of course his would be the last he thought to check! Wasn't that always how such things worked? Hello, Ca'den. What have you learned of our compatriots? Your Caaracrinaph learned much. He spoke with a secretive kind of smugness as he sat at the boy's feet, not touching him but regarding him steadily. Perhaps we can use it all to our advantage. If we're smart about what we say, and how we act, I think we will do quite well as partners, don't you?

6c6e93 - calm, cautious, patient, manipulates others

[cyrus]

Cyrus stared ahead for a long moment, easing slowly away from the tip of what he can only assume is a blade, before removing his sword carefully, with great hesitation, and placing it on the ground before him as cautiously as he can. "I was trying to help this young woman, I had no such intentions, Phoenix..." He says quietly, looking at the blue who had wrapped itself near him protectively. "It's alright, I'm alright....Cyr?" He asks, looking at it thoughtfully. He seems very calm for one who had been threatened, despite his slim appearance.

His soft face turns to the young woman, hoping that she is alright now, before stepping away from his rapier, one, two steps. He was a newcomer to this way of life, it was sure, even if he had no threat intended to them.

"I am sorry, I was in a hurry and it's something of a habit. I did not mean it to be a threat." He says quietly, in a low, careful voice, and tries to turn enough to look at the woman who is prodding him so.

[crow]

It took only a short period of ten minutes and forty-five seconds for Caidiph to devour more than half of the bucket's content of meat. Leaning against the wall, R'ths merely stared at the small green, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips, as she watched the creature finish off the last remaining scraps of food. The young girl knew that these magnificent creatures had a healthy appetite, but it never occured to her exactly how quickly they could go through a serving of meat. Stroking the young one's bright green feathers, the girl gently chided her simourv; "That was fast, you must've been really hungry I guess."

Caidiph, now that her belly was full, soon got bored again. In an effort to stave off her boredom, the slender green simourv began to play with the empty food bucket, rolling the object between her forelegs. Caidiph had only just begun to really enjoy the game - she realised that if she hit the strange object just right, she could get it to bounce a bit into the air - when the object of her amusement was taken away from her. Releasing a small squawk of irritation, the hatchling turned around to where Hers was sitting, brown colored eyes narrowed into slits as she glared at the hand that held her precious toy hostage. She wasn't done playing with it yet, and she wanted it back. But try as she might, Caidiph just wasn't able to remain angry with the girl, she just loved Hers too much. The once hostile stare then turned into a pleading gaze as the baby simourv voiced her displeasure. Mine, let's play! Your Caidiph has already eaten, and now she wants to play! You promised!

Grinning at the reaction that she invoked from the young hatchilng, R'ths crouched besides her simourv so that they were at eyelevel. Her smile only widened when she sensed the confusion felt by her simourv, she laughed a bit at the situation. "Yes, Caidiph. I did promise you that we would play, but not right now okay?" Seeing as the small green still hadn't grasped the full concept of her statement, the girl petted the creature's head as she tried again. "There are still some injured people out there, and just as many of your brothers and sisters that have not yet been fed. So let's try to help them out, hmm? With that last statement, R'ths got up to get another meat filled bucket with the intention of helping the injured candidates feed their simourvs. Not wanting to be left alone, Caidiph hastily scrambled to her feet and chased after Hers, once again shouting after R'ths. Wait for me, Mine! If you leave Caidiph behind, she'll get bored again!

Upon hearing her simourv's statement, R'ths couldn't help but let out a small chuckle. By the time Caidiph caught up with her, R'ths had already decided which candidate she would go help first. With a full bucket in hand, and her green, hyperactive simourv by hersie, R'ths made her way towards the injured candidate with the tawny simourv. Hopefully the girl - and her simouorv - wouldn't be offended by the offering in any way. Now that would be rather unpleasant. Sensing that Hers was uncomfortable, Caidiph pressed her body against the girl's leg and gave an encouraging chirrup. R'ths smiled in gratitude and bade the small simourv a silent thank you.

Upon reaching the pair near the exit, Reiths carefully placed the bucket near the young tawny and backed away. She then turned towards the injured girl, offering a friendly smile as a greeting. "Hey there, my name is Reiths. Or you could call me R'ths I guess, either one is fine." Motioning towards the bucket of meat, R'ths continued to explain her reason for being there. " I brought over some food for your simourv, I hope you don't mind." Her smile faded however when she saw the extent of the girl's injury. Both of her legs were torn and drenched with blood, no longer capable of supporting the girl. Her right arm, R'ths noticed, was handled with exceptional care, a clear indication that it was sprained or worse, broken. Suddenly, R'ths felt very guilty about the whole situation and at the same time her anger flared. Though her expression remained friendly, her voice betrayed her rage. "That wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that you were attacked like that.

[Kat]

Dionyph realized with horror that he was not the most presentable creature, and that the queen must think that he was sloppy and dirty. Hopefully, the queen would not be disgusted by his dirty appearance. He did not care if she thought him hansome necessarily, as the hatchling was still too young to worry about that kid of attention, so that was not why he was worried. Instead, Dionyph cared more that the gray would think that he did not care about the way he looked in front of her. Dionyph wanted Laraph to know that he cared so much about her, and that he was constantly worried that she would not find him appropriate. The fact that the gray hatchling was covered in gore did not prevent Dionyph’s worry. He thought that she was magnificent under any circumstance, and that as the queen, she had the right to appear how ever she wished, without any discrepancy. Dionyph needed to be presentable in front of Laraph, but in Dionyph’s world, no matter how the gray hatchling appeared, she was appropriate and presentable. The black hatchling did not allow his worry to show across his face.

Laraph’s I’dou seemed to be upset! Dionyph was mortified, as he knew the human had to approve of him and his Ri’ley in order for Dionyph to remain in Laraph’s favor. It was his duty to serve not only the gray hatchling, but also her rider, who would eventually become a Pheonix, like the rider of their mother. Dionyph was both disappointed and a bit envious when Laraph thanked Teimoph. The black hatchling knew that it was inappropriate for him to be jealous of a brother who was only attempting to serve Laraph, as was proper Dionyph should support any of his brothers and his sisters who wished to serve the gray hatchling, but already, Dionyph disliked his red brother. Part of his dislike issued directly from Ri’ley’s dislike of the hatchling, caused by the harm the red had caused. Ri’ley disliked all of the pain the hatchling had caused, and both the rider, and thus the hatchling, could not distance the pain of the four girls from the fault of the hatchling. Perhaps both Ri’ley and Dionyph could eventually forgive, but with the man so focused on healing the damaged caused by the red, the distance between the hatchling and his actions was a difficult distance to create and to accept.

Dionyph’s jealousy, which he luckily did not express, was quickly quelled with a feeling of elated happiness. The black hatchling was so proud that Laraph thought he would be helpful! Dionyph would live to be helpful to Laraph. He was born to serve Laraph, and he would live and die by her side. His very existence was his servitude to Laraph and his connection to his rider. He warbled when Laraph rubbed against him, the sound expressing his affection and love or his sister. He could not have been more thrilled for her to touch him, more excited and moved that she had accepted his gift and his pledge. Dionyph cooed lovingly, his body vibrating with his emotion and his sound. When Laraph rubbed against him, Dionyph leaned against her in response, his body reacting to her touch in a loving and affectionate manner. He hoped that he did not soil her feathers with his dirty body, but he appreciated the touch all the same.

I’dou’s addressal of Dionyph, surprised the hatchling, as he thought that the human had not liked him. Her words did not sound angry, so he must have been incorrect about her earlier gaze. He was still young, so perhaps he did not understand the reactions of humans. Dionyph, after he processed the rider’s words, realized that she was indeed correct. He was starving. Had his siblings already eaten? The other riders did not seem to have as much to do as Ri’ley, and they had already been fed. At the mention of food, Doinyph’s stomach rolled, turning with a loud, exclamation. Dionyph could not deny that he was hungry; his empty stomach betrayed his feelings, and the simourv was very truthful. He never would lie, because he was not the kind of creature who lied. Even though he hated to admit that he was weak or flawed, which admitting his hunger seemed to display, it never occurred to Dionyph to lie about state.
I am very hungry, but I do not want to distract my rider from his work. He is helping some of the other riders, and he is working very hard.
Dionyph explained. He hoped that Laraph and I’dou did not think that Ri’ley was being negligent, because Dionyph felt that his rider was focusing on the more important tasks. Dionyph did not want the phoenix to think poorly of his rider. It might someday be important that Laraph’s I’dou and his Ri’ley get along, even if Dionyph did not understand why he placed so much importance on the two riders camaraderie. He just felt it would be important, even if he did not understand why.

But Dionyph would never take food from the gray! She was the most important sibling of all of his siblings, and he could not believe that she would even offer him, such a lowly being, a taste of her food! He could not accept the food, because it would be taking nutrients from the gray hatchling. Laraph needed the food more than he needed the food, or at least she deserved the food more than he deserved the food. He was about to decline the pieces of meat, but the gray hatchling then commanded him to eat it, and Dionyph realized that he could not refuse the food. Laraph was so considerate, Dionyph thought, as he began to eat a piece of the meat, dropping his muzzle into the pile to retrieve a chunk, which he gulped down quickly. He was so hungry. Once the food entered his mouth, Dionyph realized how starving he truly was, and his hunger began to increase.
My good mistress, you are too kind to me. I do not deserve your generous offering, but I am honored to accept your gift, as I know I need my strength in order to serve you.
Dionyph said, as he finished the second piece of meat. The blood on the meat dribbled down his beak, and plopped on his chest. He ignored the dribble, and began to devoir the pile of meat at an expedited rate, gulping down as much food as possible. He wondered if the gray thought that his eating was too fast, too messy, but Dionyph was too hungry to focus on his eating manners.

Even though Dionyph disliked Teimoph, he was not worried about his reaction. The red hatchling was touchy, and he was irritable, just like lots of reds. How the black hatchling knew the temperament of the other colors was unknown. He just did, like the knowledge was ingrained into his very being, down to his genes.
I do not mind making sacrifices for the good of my queen and my siblings.
Was all Dionyph said, as he stared exasperatedly at the red hatchling. The red hatchling was such a sore loser. Well, he was sore everything, a testy, angry, bitter pile of crimson-orange feathers. Instead of reacting to Teimoph’s challenge, Dionyph just turned his gaze to the red hatchling, in an attempt to stare the other simourv down with his disapproving white eyes. The feather would grow back, of course, perhaps before Dionyph was ready to fly, and Teimoph’s melodrama was absolutely foolish.

While his simourv paid tribute to the gray hatchling, Ri’ley attempted to help Teagan off the sands. Once again, the man forgot to ask permission from the simourv of the person he attempted to help, and Othokenph acted accordingly, hissing at the large man. Ri’ley was unfazed, however, and instead he nodded his head apologetically at the blue simourv. Without Dionyph there to remind him and to scold him, Ri’ley did not apologize to the blue. The man was glad that Teagan was able to comfort the simourv, as Ri’ley had not thought beyond taking Teagan away; Ri’ley had not contemplated what he would have done had the blue simourv attacked him. Even though he was tense with residual frustration, Ri’ley managed to smile down at Teagan, and his smile was somewhat kind and friendly. The blue simourv, too, was adorable, in the way he asks the questions and the way he followed behind Ri’ley like a lost puppy. It was endearing behavior.
”Just be there for her. I’ll be back to fix her, later.”
Once the hatching was finally over, Ri’ley planned on at least acting as the overseer of the women’s care. He had to make it through the hatching, first, though, and so did the four injured girls.

Ri’ley’s attention was pulled away from Teagan by the mental voice of another simourv. He was surprised by the intrusion, not bothered by it, but disoriented. He had not yet acclimated to the mental communication, even though he had been a candidate for a fairly long period of time before he bonded, and thus he had lived around simourvs for quite some time. The words had no direction, and Ri’ley instead began to search for Dionyph. Panic rose through Ri’ley’s body, as he realized that his hatchling had wondered off, and that he had neglected his hatchling’s needs. Ri’ley’s eyes blazed with guilt and concern as he scanned the area containing the other hatchlings and winglets. It was not difficult to spot Dionyph. He was the second biggest of all the hatchlings, and he was the only black to have moved off the sands. He was bigger and darker than any of his siblings, and Ri’ley found him easily. Spotting his simourv, though, did not quell Ri’ley’s guilt, and it coursed through him still, as he stalked towards his simourv.

Ri’ley came just in time to watch the gray hatchling nudge the food over to Dionyph. Ri’ley was so neglectful that he had forgotten to feed his simourv! How horrible. And to make matters worse, Dionyph was bothering the new phoenix and her hatchling. Ri’ley’s face became a bright red color, the tops of his ears becoming physically warm, while he stared at I’dou sheepishly. What could he say to make this alright—already his hatchling had bothered another winglet, the gray queen’s rider, no less, because Ri’ley had not been there to take care of his hatchling, the hatchling he already loved so, so much. What a terrible person he was! Finally, after Ri’ley stood, embarrassed to the point of silence, finally spoke.
”I—I am so, so sorry. I didn’t realize he was bothering anyone. I should have been here to feed him myself.”
Ri’ley gushed to I’dou, his voice losing its controlled, tempered tone, and becoming frantic, worried, and a little bit humiliated. He had not even really met I’dou before. They had been candidates together, of course, but neither I’dou or himself had been particularly social. Now the girl would remember him like this, as the neglectful, dirty, almost naked man who stood before her. As he thought about his lack of clothing, Ri’ley crossed his arms across his bare chest, almost as if he was attempting to cover himself.
”You must think I’m so neglectful.”
Ri’ley replied, voicing his own concern about his behavior. The man knelt next to his hatchling, placing his hand through the feathers on Dionyph’s head, as he began to pick up some of the piece of meat to feed the hatchling himself. Ri’ley held out the chunks of meat tenderly, with a soft affection which looked strange with Ri’ley’s cold personality, while his hatchling eagerly accepted the food.

[Fox]

Ripley was angry. L'nan would have had to be blind to miss the physical clues; the steel in his brown eyes, the tenseness in his jaw that betrayed teeth gritted in aggravation. But even then, the strength of his grip on her would have given it away even if she had been blind, as it seemed that no matter how she struggled he seemed to have her locked in a vice. Who would have thought that a surgeon who spent all his time indoors, a City Boy would be so strong? Granted, it wasn't all that hard to hold on to L'nan, since she was generally of a rather small frame, but it took strength nonetheless. She rather thought that after this was done she would have small, fingertip-shaped bruises on her knees and shoulder. Eventually, the woman settled for keeping up the icy glare and silence, her lips pressed into a thin, nearly invisible line. Anger smoldered beneath her calm; anger that he would dare take such liberties with her person, anger that he was not listening to her, anger at herself perhaps for getting into this stupid, embarrassing situation. It wasn't that comfortable either for L'nan to be cradled in such a way; Ripley's fingers were digging into the shoulder of her injured arm, and her other, bare from the shoulder where she had ripped her sleeve, was pressed against his chest. Embarrassing did not begin to describe this; but in this case the humiliation was taking third place to injured pride and sheer mule-headedness.

She kept up only a token struggle (it kind of hurt to do much more, since that would require kicking her legs) until finally she was dumped unceremoniously onto the stone ledge beside the sands. With her arms crossed gingerly over her chest and an angry smile on her face, L'nan would have been perfectly happy to continue with her silent glaring. If Ripley hadn't rounded on her, his frustration and aggravation rolling off him in waves, the woman could have kept it up for days, if not months. As it was, her temper finally broke free and the smile twisted into a furious grimace. "So said the pot to the kettle!" She shot back angrily, "But no, you have changed, Ripley. At least the boy I met eight years ago wasn't a hypocrite on his high horse. Oh, look, it seems like I prefer the 'before' to the 'after'. Who would have thought?" Her voice was acidic and laced with mingled frustration and anger. A woman's injured pride was a dangerous thing. But things just kept getting better; the possessive tone in Ripley's voice and his high-handed words made the woman want to fetch him a sound slap across that exasperating face. A mask for his concern it might have been, but L'nan was so furious that she took the impression immediately at face value. "You have the 'right'? Who the hell died and was stupid enough to make you King?!" Angrily, L'nan's fingers twitched convulsively. It was lucky for Ripley that anything worth throwing was out of her limited reach; the angry young woman would have had no qualms about pitching something after the back of his head.

As Ri'ley stormed off out of earshot, Eoreph twined once around Hers, before settling on her haunches beside the woman. The tawny stretched out her head to nuzzle her furious bonded reassuringly with her beak, and she was rewarded by L'nan's hand slipping into her downy feathers, a frustrated sigh huffing its way past the woman's lips. He was just trying to help, Mine.[/color] she said tentatively, rocking gently back and forth in place. Dionyph's had only been trying to help, despite the fact that he had not gone about it in the best way that he could have. The intention still remained, and Eoreph felt that her bonded wasn't giving Dionyph's as much credit as he deserved. Still. "I know. I know, dearest." L'nan replied, her voice quieter but no less frustrated. "That still doesn't excuse him. He deals with people, not sacks of flesh." Once, near the beginning of her career, Leannan had had a patient- an unwilling young woman. She had not wanted Lea to assist her when she began to hemorrhage after a birth; apparently her family had not believed in the practice of medicine, even midwifery. Because of those beliefs, the young midwife could only sit by and watch, horrified, as the young woman bled out; her husband distraught but resolute. It had been the cause of many nightmares, but ultimately Lea had not blamed herself for it because in the end she could only advise. If the patient did not allow her to act, then there was nothing she could do. Therein lay the rub with Ripley's attitude.

The woman was just beginning to calm, taking an immense amount of comfort in the presence of Eoreph beside her, when a voice startled her into lifting her head from her simourv's feathers. The sight of a greenrider, one that L'nan was vaguely familiar with since she had seen her around as candidates, carrying a bucket of meat was enough to remind L'nan and Eoreph both that the little tawny had not had a thing to eat since she had hatched. "Oh, it's a pleasure to meet you, R'ths." the woman said, blushing a bit at having forgotten her simourv's needs for that moment. "Thank you very much; I'm afraid that I couldn't quite go hauling her feed bucket. We appreciate it." With an apologetic look at Eoreph, L'nan took the meat and placed it in front of the tawny, who began to eat hungrily but fastidiously, trying to get as little blood on her feathers as possible. The waves of pleasure emanating from her bonded was enough to bring a loving smile to the woman's face. Still smiling, she turned her brown eyes to the blonde girl- R'ths- and offered her own name in return. "My name is Leann- well, L'nan now. You can call me Lea." As the girl commented on L'nan's wounds, the midwife shrugged, a crooked, somewhat ironic smile flashing across her face at the sight of her legs and the stitches that ran across them like a line of picket fence. "He was a red. What can you really expect?" Because reds had a reputation for being of a similar, somewhat violent mindset, and Lea wasn't about to fault a creature for its nature. Especially not a simourv.[/size]