with my own wings [open]

[falcon]

75.13.24 - Afternoon

Falvor's wings twitch; he knows what awaits when Richet takes the hood off of his head. A smaller piece of prey has been set out on the greens: a tunnelsnake, fat and lazy in the southern sun. The bowl is mostly clear of smaller pets, given that the warning was given by the aviary: the falconers will be given free reign of the Bowl for a while, and no one is responsible for a missing animal here or there.

There don't seem to be many other falconers around, Richet notices. She's not surprised; a bird takes a lot of time and dedication, and one of the things Richet despises about the Weyr is how closed in it is. Her precious Falvor is going to grow fat and lazy before they can return to the Dragon Ridge aviary.

But today is different. Today he gets to fly. She takes off the hood and the bird perks up, waiting to be released. He doesn't tug at the jesses; Richet's fingers make fast work of it and the bird soars off, massive wings gaining altitude. He circles the bowl once or twice before spotting his prey.

And when he dives for his kill, Richet finds herself holding her breath.

Oh, she misses doing this every week. Richet follows Falvor to the perch, keeping a close eye on him so that he won't hurt anything. He's still not quite used to dragons, and animals aren't quite as rational as humans.

[Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro)]

((I'm really bad at present tense writing , but I can give you a past tense reply, if that's ok by you. I'm ok with alternating tenses: mine past, yours present.))

K’tar leaned back against the wall, content to watch for the time being. It was a sight that would have astounded anyone who knew the normally excessively energetic young man even nine sevendays prior, but the constant scouting and fire-fighting efforts and sapped the spare energy from nearly every rider, including K’tar of Purple Viarth. Soon, within a couple hours, the falconers would pause long enough for the dragonriders of the Waterfall Fliers Wing, section alpha (which included about a third of the Wing’s riders, the other two thirds were in sections beta and gamma) to depart from the heights without startling those falcons still new to dragons.

Watching something move on the sand — and the shadow moving above it — K’tar smiled. The hawk that swooped down on the prey, a tunnel snake, was a truly impressive shoulder-bird. Jatheiron always used to want one, but he’d given up on that, ever since Lord Famoran had pointed out that Lord Holders (and their heirs) don’t have enough time to care for shoulder-birds properly.

The shoulder-bird swooped over to a perch, followed by a dark haired young woman who looked perhaps a few Turns younger than K’tar’s own 17 Turns. She wasn’t particularly beautiful, but she didn’t look bad by any stretch. Idly, K’tar scanned the falconers. He didn’t see his friend Lan anywhere, but perhaps…

Decided, he approached the young woman. “Hello,” he said, keeping his voice calm so as not to alarm the bird. “I’m K’tar Damoyen, of Purple Viarth. I was wondering if you would happen to know where Lan Orpheal is? He’s got a white shoulder-bird named Syne."

[Shoki]

“Okay, okay hold on.” Lan got up, looking tired still. Must be the middle of the day, by his estimate. Too early for him. Arc was pestering him for food, but the White was always so gentle about it. She was currently trying to snuggle with him, but Lan carefully put her on his bed and gave her a pat so he could get dressed. Soon enough the white is hidden in his jacket and Lan headed off to get her some food from the kitchens. Might as well get himself some grub, since he didn’t always get hot food at the later hours.

He was in the middle of feeding Arc when one of the workers came up to him. One of the male ones that is. Lan paused, but Arc was still working on her piece of meat so she wasn’t so perturbed. Lan was informed that there was a group out with their birds today, only mentioned since they were wondering when Lan might be in with some game. Lan considered it and mentioned that since he was up anyway he might as well check it out and go on a hunt. This seemed to get a few smiles, since Lan coming in with game usually meant some for the kitchen staff. He didn’t have a good way of storing it, and he kept Syne fed besides. So Lan left, looking a bit pleased that there was another falconer around, and the kitchen pleased for an extra bit of meat in the future.

Arc was left on his bed, and she went down for a nap, since she knew Syne could well see her as food. And Lan went to pick up his longtime partner. Syne’s cage was covered, as it always was during the day. And since starting the day meant Lan’s gloves were on, there wasn’t much he had to do but, carefully, wake up Syne. Once the cover was off the bird opened his orange, reflective eyes and observed Lan for a moment.

“Oah-who” The call came, and Lan held out his glove for the bird to rest on. Syne did so, and got a treat for his troubles before he was hooded and taken out to the Bowl.

Lan paused once he got out there. Most of the birds trained were sight birds, by nature, but of course he would have to be careful his brand of training didn’t upset them. Syne wasn’t a sight hunter, and hunts with him meant heading out into forests at night and being dead quiet. Lucky Ethilask was getting used to them, since he had hoped they would all be able to work together. He considered for a moment, letting Syne get used to the sounds in the bowl. Syne could be out in the day well enough, but recently he had only had the mental faculties to take him out at night. Suited them both just fine. He took of the hood after a time and Syne got a look around, his eyes settling on the other birds in the air. A serious of whistles, hopefully soft enough that it didn’t disturb the others was given by way of command and Syne’s gaze went toward the ground. The tufts of feathers on his head rose as he looked around for ground prey. He had to be careful, after all, Syne could take down birds if he wanted. That was how he got that present for Saddyris.


He wasn't looking around proper, so he hadn't noticed K'tar yet.

[falcon]

((I don't mind at all c:. i write in present tense but i don't demand similar responses from my partners, since it's what's comfortable for me so you should write what's comfortable for you.))

If the knots weren't a giveaway, the name certainly was. Richet glances up at the boy and then carefully attaches a jess to Falvor's leg. She doesn't want to take any chances, even though she's trained her bird well.

"Richet Falkincall, apprentice Birdcrafter." Technically she should introduce herself as a Dragon Candidate, but even now she identifies more closely with her trade. "And this is Falvor." The hawk doesn't look up; he's intent on eating his meat and doesn't care too much about the rider.

"And no, I can't say I know him. He hang around the aviary much?"

[Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro)]

K’tar ran another admiring glance over the bird, though he knew better than to interrupt it at its eating.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” he said, giving a slight bow in acknowledgement of the introduction. “He doesn’t hang out there too often. He keeps his bird, big white one, in his rooms, I believe.” K’tar hesitated for a moment, then asked: “Where did you get Falvor?”