The Morning Hunt

Morith sat near the dining hall, his large wings folded back against his flanks, his whirling eyes slowly moved across the milling groups of people.

V'riy however, was not in the same chirpy mood as his dragon. He had not been awake very long and already the carving for klah were in full swing. Any people who got his way were glared at until they cowered away. His hands reached forward, grasping the pitcher and pouring himself out a large mug.

Cradling the mug, he made his way slowly into a quiet corner. There he settled, in silence, sipping his klah as he slowly became more conscious of the world milling around him.

Morning.
It brought with is a sense of freedom, a new day ,a new dream, but always new stuff to do.

Well almost. Lymsleia had brought herself into the hall to feast upon the breakfeasts foods stored within. She managed to grab herself a cup of hot water and a few small things to eat, thoug noticing the lone person in the corner she approached. "May I sit?" she asked firmly. Her eyes swept along the man's shoulders for sign of rank, though blurred and struggling to get thoughts in gear Lymsleia realized this might not be the best idea.

Cool, cold grey brown eyes lifted from his mug. There stood a young female, her skin almost matching the color of his klah. At least that what he reckoned. Taking another sip of his klah. He let one of his hands move from his cup and signal that she could sit with him.

His gaze remained on her, taking in the little details so he would remember her face. Now what was her name again... Her brow furrowed slightly as they move along her face. Hmm, one grey blue, one blue eyes. Black hair, good solid figure. Looking along her arms, it was clear she kept herself in peak physical condition. Hmm.

"Lymsleia, midwife. Am I correct?" His voice was quiet, low, growling but with an edge of softness. He wasn't attempting to scare her off, he was just curious plus his voice which always sounded like he was growling which could be a nightmare when he decided he was in a social mood.

Leaning back his chair, his eyes remained focused on her. He also knew she would not spot his rank ropes, because the awkward little bugger he was, he hadn't put them on. If anything he cared little for rank and he certainly held a strong distain for those who lorded it over others of a 'lower' rank.

She sank down near him. She kept some space between him. She hardly knew this man- this rider, she guessed. Without the knots it was harder to discern immeidately what rank someone was, if they rode a dragon or not. But she found that more intriguing. This man, didn't seem to care about rank, though that could be a basless assumption She bit her tongue as she set her plate of food down, and then the small cup of tea, laden it seemed with some kind of sweetener.

"Yes, sir." she said  casually.  Her voice was pleasant and gentle as she spoke, she acknowledge him, he acknowledge her. So far everything was good. At least this one didn't remember that she was an... instigator. She had never felt that proud of her actions. She realized, in hindsight, her actions had been, foolish, and worst of all childish.

She started to eat, as her stomach grumbled a bit noisily at the offered food, a bit of roughly made bread, a bit cheese, amoung other things. She reached for her cup of tea. "I am honored to be remember- even if its in a neautral light."

"I'm not sir." His low gravely voice rumbled as his gaze locked onto her's. For a brief moment, his expression hardened before it returned to a blank once. His gaze took in her every moment whilst he sipped his klah. He didn't wear his knots in the dining room because it meant he could sit unnoticed where he pleased on his rare trips to the dining room. And without his knots, few people bothered him.

"One should everyone. Not matter what rank." He stated calmly, his eyes trail over her face. She was pleasant to look, but not exceptionally beautiful, which suited him. But there was something lurking in her eyes. A dimmed fire. His interest peaked, he would watch her. See what she was about, what sort of person she was. His eyes closed briefly as he put her face to his memory.

"V'riy." He uttered, opening an eye to meet her gaze. "Figured I should at least introduce myself." He added on, draining his cup, his eyebrow rising in silent question. Was she not busy? Did she not have people to see? What did she do in her free time? She did not seem like some of the riders he'd had noticed. Ones which fell into the arms of different lovers and writhed within their sheets. However, this woman did not seem that sort. That or she hid it well.

"I appologise s-V'riy." She focused on hisn ame commiting it to memory. It did make the conversation more normal, when onewas not always being addressed by a rank, or the 'standard' general 'sir'.

"I'd rather not be remembered in a negative light." she said cooly. She continued to eat slowly, humming a perhaps wordless tone as she ate in between mouthfuls. "Thank you, for introducing yourself. Sometimes its like pulling teeth with people to get names out of some." she breathed through her nose her chest rising and falling slowly, controled. Leashed and chained flames- shone briefly behind her mis-matched eyed.

She stretched upwards after a last spoonfull. They eyebrow caught her attention and she smiled, lips, closed, her eyes  dancing. "V'riy... what'd you think of this past hatching? I mean who know a gold would hatch from Krypth..." she breathed. "Though I guess this may mean... thread is coming. Her first clutch-small -but a second... daughter to lay more eggs.." She covered her mouths. "Ahh sorry. Did you want to talk about something else? To be honest I am almost tired of that /topic/." She clutched her cup of hot water, and added her particular pouch of herbs. The strong perfume of medicinal plants, and sweeter fruitier scent wafting into the air.

v'riy eyes rested on her, a flicker of annoyance crossing his eyes before just as quickly it was gone.

"Of course thread is coming." he stated before the woman seemed to backtrack on the conversation. "It be tiresome but to be prepared means survival. I trust you keep a stock of medicinal herbs." He spoke quietly, the low rumble in his voice ever present. His eyes slid back over to her as she added a small pouch of herbs to her drink. His eyebrow rose but he said nothing. Instead, his gaze moved to the cup, which could almost considered curious.

"Are you coming to oil me?" Morith's smooth baritone voice cut into V'riy's thoughts, earning a grumble from the stotic rider. His gaze moved to the young woman.

"You are a candidate... are you not?" He asked, slowly moving to his feet. Join me.. if you wish." He spoke slowly, as if unused to the words that left his lips. He wanted to see more of what this woman was like, rather than this... polite maks she wore at the moment. He wanted to see that fire, to see her defiance.

"I think it is." She agree. She touched the cup, fingering it gingerly. The heat& steam that rose from it carried with a sweetend scent. not over-powering but comforting. "But how does one prepare for enemy none of us have seen alive? Oh and being prepared is the healer's motto at times." She reaches beneath the table holds up a bag, tanned and cured leather, supple, but newly made.

"I brought this with me from Healer Hall-- I was lucky." She clutches the bag a moment. The warmth in hr voice firing up. After a few moments she drank some of the tea. "Perfect." She said softly She brain slowly deeply from the cup.

As she slowly drank the cup, she looked at him, "I am... sort of. I was brought here to be one, but this stupid child mandate.." she bit her lip, the heat returned to her , the fire turned from dwindling embers to campfire. " Though at his comment, she nodded. "Anything to get out of here." she breathed. She picked up her bag and cup and raced after him practically falling instep.  Her lean, but peite form moving beside him. "If I wish? Silly question V'riy. I' am tired of dealing with people who don't want to hear me out. " She picked up her pace as she walked.

"Forcing the women to breed as if we're broodmares is crazy. Requiring a child before standing.." She stormed towards the hall door, and as she left she kicked a peice of dirt. "Its... wrong. Requiring it. We were not stolen to be broodmare. There are plenty of other subdued, cowed and weakened women who'd be more than happy too..." she realized she was nearly shouting. She stoped and turned back at him.

Her mouth agap. The blush crept up her darkened skin. "I shouldn't talk so openly about nothing I can really do anything about."

He nodded silently, his eyes moving to the bag, noting that it was freshly made before she fell instep with him. His hands tucked into his pockets as he lead them outside. A somewhat amused smirk crossed his lips, his gaze resting on her as he took in her words. The moment she stopped talking and blushed, with the comment of talking about something she could stop earned a low rumbling laugh, his shoulder shook slightly as the rumbling chuckle continued as they left the dining hall and stopped by a large bronze dragon.

"What is so funny?" The bronze asked, dropping his head down to V'riy, gently exhaling a breath towards to Lymsleia. "Hello there pretty eyes." Morith eyes whirled in soft hues of green and blue, however he spoke to the young woman. His baritone voice was unlike V'riy is every way possible. it lacked the rough growling that lingered in V'riy's voice and he almost sounded innocent.

"Stop flirting." V'riy low growling voice broke through as he slapped the bronze's shoulder firmly before adjusting the straps. "Want to help oil him?" He asked, glancing back at her, clearly he wasn't used to interacting past a few polite words.

The low laughter, made Lymsleia smile a moment. "Well at least I made you laugh V'riy." she said quietly. Her tone was somewhat calm, though her eyes swung widly. Dragon. Dragon...

She froze.

A Bronze dragon. She'd been talking to a bronzerider! Lymsleia felt her breath catch, and exhaled. She was somewhere between pissed- thinking D'ren, though the memory of Ronarth (the sweet, simple Bronze) made her lips twitch.

The moment the bronze bespoke her.. It made her mind melt. She went completely blank. "Pretty? Me? You're mistaken..." she said quickly. Yeah it was those 'pretty eyes' that had seen her kicked, attacked. and stared at. One eye a grey-blue. The other a more distinct blue, pale blue. Those eyes, distinctive when paired with her dark skin. She let her lips form a straight line.

"Sure." the words came from her mouth nonchalantly.

I tried to find images that would give us an 'idea' of what colors we're seeing, some of thse might be slightly computer enhanced, but I do envision this when I think of Lymsleia's eyes. So it is probably 'REALLY freaky'.
http://images.wikia.com/psychology/image...ue_eye.jpg
http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FtrB30mKyMU/T7...log+17.jpg
http://www.flickr.com/photos/pinksherbet/3388299763/

V'riy's low chuckle sounded once more as she denied the bronze's words.

"Morith believes you are pretty. Do you doubt him?" V'riy's lips twitched with withheld amusement, his tone low heavy with amusment as he tightened the riding straps.

"Take us back to the hut Morith. WE'll get you oiled." V'riy stated quietly, his tone softening towards the large bronze.

"You have no Manners. She should not have to oil me. But a female's touch would certainly be pleasant." Morith all but gushed, snorting in amusement at his rider's less than impressed glare. With firm but gentle hands hands, he helped her get onto the bronze's rider before swinging up in front of her, calloused fingers attached her to the riding straps. After all, it would be unfortunately if she fell. Considering Morith liked to 'play' whilst flying.

"Hold on tight." Were his last words before the bronze leapt up almost as nimbly as green, his wings beating as they rose up and he twisted away from the dining hall and headed towards the huts.