Promises and Feedings

[Faerie Fyre]

The roiling, painful jumble of feelings transmitted down the bond of Impression made it difficult for Sinclare - no, not Sinclare, not anymore - S'lare to keep down his lunch as he led his crimson Wrath to the Weyr Bowl, the place for hatchlings and all dragons to eat. This once, the meat was prepared for the new weyrlings, and frankly, S'lare was grateful. It meant that he didn't have to pause in the quest to feed his starving lifemate.

Food! Give it to me, or you'll be sorry!

The nearly-black crimson lashed his tail agitatedly, snapping his jaws to see if he could startle anyone into jumping. Even a new hatchling was a formidable foe - just ask the hatchlings and candidates who had been mauled in Wrath's angry quest to find His!

S'lare began tossing chunks of meat towards his hatchling, pausing just long enough between throws for the male to chew the meat thoroughly enough to avoid choking. While the dragon ate, S'lare dug into the iron core he had forgotten why he possessed to help his dragon. Wrath was so angry and violent because he was hurting, not because he hated everything. His Hatching was supposed to have been a joyous time, but events beyond his control had ruined it. His egg had been damaged, his siblings slaughtered, and why?

The 'why' part was what Wrath, newly hatched, did not understand, and it was the 'why' that had S'lare digging into that inner core of strength. Once, the boy called Sinclare had been nothing - no, worse than nothing. Nobody. Holders called him 'riff raff', 'outcast', and 'Holdess' because he lived with a mother who had earned those titles. He had been considered an easy target because he had no liege lord to apply to for protection. In short, no one cared about what happened to an urchin.

There were no lucky breaks for Sinclare, no sponsor to reach into the darkness and bring him to greatness. One day, the boy had decided that enough was enough, and no one would ever have the ability to hurt him again. That was when he had learned to fight, to steal, and to intimidate through sheer muscle. He brought up the memories of deciding to cease this victim business and become a man, and gave them to his hurting crimson.

I pulled out of it- you can too.

Will I? I HURT all over inside. How can this get better?[/color]

I know, Wrath, I know. Trust me, though - we can work through this. Fort will have to answer for this, and for your siblings, and the damage they caused. This I promise you.[/i]

It was the first time in Turns that the hardened outcast had felt like weeping like a child. Faranth willing, it would be the last.

[wylvaren]

Anka and Brown Truinith

Constant thoughts of feeding and oiling had left Anka a grinning fool, with the occasional giggling fit that was completely out of character for the guardian trained female. AnkaMine . . . . Your Truinith hungers!!!

[/color] her peppy, little Brown wabled in her mind, causing Anka to pause in her own bath and look up at the dark brown dragonet and grin. "You are constantly hungry . . . . Do you even know how to stop eating?" Anka bantered, causing Truinith to sit back on his haunches and cock his head to the side. Many flaceted orbs swirled with slight confusion as he wasn't sure if His was joking or if she was serious.

I did wrong?[/color] Truinith questioned, his mental voice dropping in fear of upsetting His. This change brought Anka out of the cooling water, wrapping a towel around her body and rushing to her Brown's side. No . . . no, my beautiful Truinith. You did nothing wrong. I was only teasing you, she mentally tried to sooth her Brown, while stroking his neck and shoulders with damp hands. "Let me dress, and we'll go down to the Feeding Grounds and I'll feed you. Sound good?" she asked, even as she started to stand and move toward her part of the Weyrling Barracks and started to dress.

Once she had pulled on a pair of wherry breeches and a suitable tunic and vest, she sat on her cot, pulling on her boots, when Truinith moved before her. His swirling orbs focused on her cool brown ones. Yes? she sent, wondering what Truinith was up too. I will eat until I grow big and strong . . . . You will no longer have to protect others . . . . I will protect you,[/color] Truinith stated, the peppy, playfulness gone from his voice, surprising Anka. "Truinith," Anka whispered as she reached out and cupped the young dragon's chin in her hands and pulled his snout toward her. "I have been so lonely without you with me." As have I, without you.[/color]

There was a long pause, where Weyrling sat with her eyes closed and dragonet stood with his many eyelids shut. It was a peaceful silence finally broken when Truinith suddenly stated that he was still hungry and Anka rolled back onto the cot in laughter. "We're going," she stated, rising from the cot and walking out of the barracks with Truinith beside her.

It wasn't a long walk to the Feeding Grounds at which point Anka found that she wasn't the only one who had the idea of feeding their dragonets. Truinith let out a greeting bugle to his Crimson brother and started to trot forward toward the feeding Crimson and His. ""Truinith," Anka called, trotting along behind her Brown. She didn't really think it was such a good idea to walk up on the young Crimson that had caused so much damage when he was looking for His. Be careful! Crimson Wrath is my brother. He wouldn't hurt me,[/color] Truinith stated, sounding so sure.[/size][/blockquote]

[Faerie Fyre]

A young-sounding bugle sounded in the near vicinity, and Wrath raised his bloodied muzzle to see what the commotion was. The red-tinged crimson targeted on the most likely culprit, and his multifaceted eyes would have narrowed if dragon eyelids were capable of doing that. As it was, he lifted his upper lip to reveal sharp teeth, and flexed his claws against the dirt.

Who dares come near?

S'lare stood his ground in front of the angry hatchling, a chunk of some sort of meat that still dripped blood in his hands. He too sought the creator of the bugled announcement, and zeroed in on the female-Impressed brown currently flouncing their way.

"I wouldn't do that, girl."

For once, there was no malice in the pyrokinetic's voice. All that remained after the many fights of the day was a weary exhaustion and an iron core of strength that manifested as a slightly hard edge in his voice. S'lare did not like remembering the events that had made him who he now was, but like most other Weyrlings, would do anything to help his dragon. Wrath needed a pillar of strength right now, so that is what S'lare gave him.

Wrath, settle down. Your clutchmate means no harm.

The crimson's tail lashed angrily as deadly claws bit into the earth with frustration.

How do you know that? He was there, they were all there!

Genuine anguish colored the hatchling's mental voice, emerging from the blind, hating anger he had first used. His eyes whirled wildly in shades of red, and the muscles in his neck stood in relief.

"Wrath, no one is trying to hurt you. Let me help you, please!" S'lare pleaded. His mind-mate shook his head not in defiance but in an attempt to clear his mind. Pain shot through both of their skulls, and S'lare winced. Impression was not shaping up to be any fun at all.

[wylvaren]

Weyrling Anka and Brown Truinith

If they hadn't been standing on the receiving end of the young Crimson's threat and His' words, Anka might have thought differently of the situation. But as it was, it was she and Truinith which had the main focus of the Crimson's rage and it wasn't very interesting anymore.

As it was, Anka moved to stand before Truinith, as S'lare stood before Wrath. "He just wanted to say a greetings to his clutchmate," Anka commented, turning and placing a hand on her Brown's shoulder. Walk Truinith. But brotherWrath?

[/color] "Walk away Truinith," Anka pushed a little harder, finally getting Truinith to listen. "Your hungry still?" she asked Truinith in a soft voice.

No, she couldn't be angry at the young Crimson or the young man that Impressed him. As she had watched the Weyrleader and his Crimson, it seemed the dragon was always angry and aggressive, and it seemed acceptable by the Weyr, which made Anka believe that Crimson's were suppose to be aggressive. What about Browns?[/color] Truinith questioned as he nuzzled Anka's hand to pass him a piece of meat.

I don't know, Truinith, Anka stated, as she sat near a pile of meat that had been set out for the Weyrlings and their dragonets. She began tossing Truinith pieces of meat, one at a time. "Chew," Anka reminded her dragonet when the silly thing tried to shallow the first piece whole.[/size][/blockquote]