Who

F'kan, Vasilissa

What

A wildling meets a reformed brownrider, her first encounter with a rider (with his dragon further away), and has some curious questions for him.

When

It is afternoon of the twenty-eighth day of the seventh month of the sixteenth turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Feeding Pastures

OOC Date 23 Mar 2019 07:00

 

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Congratulations Vasilissa, you've managed to break F'kan.


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Feeding Pastures

Up the side of the mountain, stone fences mark the lines of the different parts of the feeding pastures. Bovines, woolies, ovines, caprines, herdbeasts; they are all collected here, dotting the hillside in lazy repose to stand stark against the brilliance of the green pastures. Rich, rich grass grows here, fed by the humidity and tropical climate. The sounds here are a blend of bleating, baying, and the thundering of many steps as the different herds move about. Occasionally, the whiff of something foul is carried downwind from the collection of animals that serves as the weyr's food supply.


Winter and it's raining, there's a shocker. At least it's only falling in drizzles right now, and not in sheets, cause it would make this particular chore a lot more unpleasant. Leaning up against a stone fence, F'kan is watching his little gold Queenie skittering along the top of it, stopping every now and then to tilt her head and cheep at her humanpet. The rest of his assorted fair are making a meal out of a nearby porcine carcass that was Quaverilth's first kill of the afternoon, getting in there for the bits the brown dragon missed. Speaking of said dragon, Quav is currently circling one of the furthest feeding pastures, filled with yearling herdbeasts, frolicking cluelessly in the light rain that is drifting down.

You know what is difficult in the cold winter months? Hunting. When you're a wildling trying to make it out on her own, probably avoiding family at all costs, it's hard to keep your belly full as well as your growing firelizard. Vasilissa, who has been hanging out within walking distance of the Weyr, seems to have found a new trick: leftovers. The young girl's long gangly form and bright red hair are hidden under a stiff cloak, and she's hiding behind a wall of stone nearby to F'kan but still just out of sight. This time her firelizard is left to join the fair picking at the porcine carcass, though the queen doesn't do a good job of being subtle. She possessively hisses, trying to dive down and steal bits away from the other firelizards. This one is not socialized much, which can be said the same about the hiding wildling. Though her pale face seems to be drifting up and within sight, blue eyes entranced by the dragon flying above and hunting further away.

Oh no, what is this Queenie spots? Another gold trying to boss around her fair? That simply won't do. With a small shriek, she takes off from the fence and arrows towards that poor unfortunate porcine, aiming to scare off the strange gold with a buffet of her wings and a flash of her claws just for intimidation purposes. Lil Bro and Reaper, his bronze and brown respectively, back up Queenie, while Snow and Greenie, blue and green (obviously), take to the air, circling and making their displeasure of this rude new arrival known. F'kan, for his part, stares dumbly for a second before he reacts. Placing his hands on the top of the fence, he leans forward and bark at his five. "C'mon, can't you all share? There's plenty to go around…and Quav'll have another one down soon…" Yes, the man is trying to reason with the little creatures, it's a bold and mostly fruitless move. For his part, Quaverilth continues his careful selection of his second course, the antics of his rider's little friends not a strong enough distraction from his rumbling stomach.

Vasilissa isn't about to scold her little firelizard for stealing the meat. This is, after all, what she had intended for her friend to do. But her eyes do seem to widen in fright when the other gold seems to go after her own smaller one. Not that Rusalka is going to take that kind of abuse. She hisses right back at Queenie, but is smart enough to dart a safe distance away because that bigger gold has bigger backup too and can cause damage. She doesn't stray far, fluttering to the ground and making a show of looking big. She still hasn't gotten any meat! Vasilissa hunkers down behind cover, hands on top of it as if ready to bolt over… and then she can't stand it, even if she is trying to be sneaky. "Well, take them and go on then if there is gonna be more, mine's starving!" comes her hopefully disembodied voice. Rusalka goes charging in to the fray once F'kan hopefully has them (briefly) distracted. Straight for the biggest chunk of meat she can find left!

Huh? Disembodied voices? That has F'kan pausing for a minute and looking around for the source of said disembodied voice. "If yours is starving, you could always just go tothe Living Caverns, they always have a bowl of scraps available," the man tries to be helpful, but he also sends a stern thought to his fair, who sqwawk briefly in protest but move away from the carcass enough to allow the smaller queen, the rest taking into the air to join blue and green , lazily circling and biding their time until their humanpet lets them get back to their meal. Quaverilth in the meantime, has chosen his quarry, and the thin brown darts towards it with practised precision, and the beast is dispatched before he even realizes he was hit. F'kan silently congratulates his lifemate on his kill and his fair decide that they would rather not wait on Rusalka and so flitter off to join the brown. "You know, making demands work a lot better if you actually show yourself." the brownrider remarks as he rests his elbows on the fence now and leans on them, relaxing his posture again.

That same voice is muttering something, the drizzle doesn't help but they still sound something like 'they'll certainly like that' or along those lines. Vasilissa does not want to give herself away that easily just yet, and stays quiet at the suggestion of going inside for scraps. Rusalka trills in triumph, making a rukus as the other queen and firelizards retreat. She claims her prize, perched on the porcine and making a show of having scared off the other firelizards that she nearly forgets to eat. Satisfied finally, she begins tearing into the flesh left on the bones fiercely. The dragon's actual kill makes Vasilissa jerk up over the wall, eyes locked out there onto the hunting dragon as he went in for the kill. Fascination on her face, her arms lean on the top, her body from shoulders up visible. "Looks to me it worked just fine either way," she snaps back to the brownrider, visible though she is now to him. She gives him a wary look before looking back out the dragon, a sight that obviously seems new to this young girl.

the interloping queen garners a bit of a smirk from F'kan as he watches her claim 'victory' over his fair. "Bullying her way into food isn't going to fly with everyone though," he remarks in an off-hand way when the girl reveals herself. Sensing her apprehension, he doesn't move a muscle, but does turn his head just a little bit to give her a sidelong once over. Her wild red hair and the way she's dressed are noted, as is the wary look she tosses his way. The unfamiliarity with dragons does make him ponder a bit, and maybe the begining of a theory is starting to form, but for F'kan that might take a bit. Quaverilth is thoroughly distracted with his feast, his hunger apparent as he devours the herdbeast with wild abandon.

Perhaps another wildling whose first close encounter with a dragon is watching them shred apart would just turn heel and run away back into the jungle. Instead, Vasilissa plants her feet solidly on the ground and remains stubbornly where she is. "She doesn't meet others that often, so it's just bad luck yours were here," she points out to the man. She's going to defend her little firelizard, however. The queen is equally vicious in her eating habits, and she's still quite young. Vasilissa doesn't have much help in raising and training firelizards, from the looks of it. She finally turns her blue eyes away from the dragon, actually studying the man beside her. For someone that didn't want to approach dragonriders before, or be approached, there's a sudden resolve that comes over her face. A set of her jaw, a raising of her chin, and then she asks stiffly, "Are you my father?" Hey, he was looking at her too, and she probably caught that out of the corner of her eye.

Doesn't meet others? The gears are slowly turning in F'kan's head as he turns to look more fully in her direction. The stobborn stance she is pulling vaguely reminds him of someone and there's a soft chuckle as he looks her over a bit more thoroughly. Then she pops her last question, and it takes a long time to actually sink in what she's said, but when it does, it causes the brownrider to do his best impersonation of a fish, mouth opening and closing several times before any sound comes out. "No! I don't think so…..Wait…how old are you and who is your mother? No..You're way too old….Wait…what?" Congratulations Vasilissa, you've managed to break F'kan.

Rusalka is happily munching away, though she still throws a few suspicious glances in the direction the other firelizards went. The moment that F'kan seemed unsure, and had to ask her age, Vasilissa pounces on it. She crosses the distance with a few long strides, nearly running, and suddenly not caring at all about keeping her distance. She stops right in front of the rider, one finger pointing into his face and probably not helping that broken brain of his. "You don't think so or it is you?" Blue eyes scan another pair of blue eyes in the young man's face. "I'm fifteen now! It's me, Vasilissa." She sounds almost a tad bit hopeful, like the name might spur a memory in the man's face. But now that she's closer to him, real close, the doubt also flickers in and she slowly starts to drop her hand and shrink back.

"Fifteen?! Oh no then! Absolutely not!" F'kan quickly acertains as he puts his hands up defensively when she rounds on him with that accusatory finger in his face. "I'm not even hit my twenty fourth turnday girl. So unless I sired you when I was nine, which I assure you I did not, there's not much chance I'm your Da." The brownrider's aggitated state gets his lifemate's attention, and Quaverilth raises his craggy, wizened head to give a questioning croon in the man's direction. Forestalling him with a thought, the man looks back at the girl. "Vasilissa is it? I'm F'kan, and that's my brown Quaverilth. Are you…is your father a rider here? Where's your mother? You're a Wildling right? Although I know you don't call yourselves that."

Vasilissa face actually falls, even though she practically expected that answer by this point. She takes a good step away from the rider, her head hanging for a moment. With a deep breath it's back up, her eyes darting over nervously to the brown and then back to the rider. "He's a rider here. I'm positive of that," she answers with her lips pressing firmly together. She did not want to get into her life story with a stranger. It helps the dragon is still further away, and the man seems to know how to approach someone like her. "Yeah, that's me… that thing." She huffs out and crosses her arms. "Ma's somewhere further out, they packed camp up and moved on with my brothers and sisters. She's gone well crazy about the riders and dragons and all the eggs you guys have on the sands right now. Ma's been a righteous pain in my ass since I was a kid, after my father left. I kinda remember him…" That's probably a straight up lie, seeing that she thought F'kan was said man. She looks guiltily back towards the jungle.

"My…" F'kan starts, but quickly changes tactics after clearing his throat a little bit, "A very good friend of mine is one of your kind. I know you all think we steal people for the Weyr, but you can assure your mother we don't. It took me some time to convince my…friend of that as well. Quav helped of course," he says, tossing his lifemate a fond look. The brown is done with his eating now, and licking his claws and muzzle clean while the five firelizards feast in their own right. "It's always a choice when a rider asks anyone to stand for a clutch of eggs," he reiterates a little bit before scratching his stubbled chin to make a faintly rasping noise. "If you wanted, I could make some inquiries for you if you tell me what you remember of him, or you could come to the Weyr yourself and make them. The Weyr takes care of our own, so if you're hungry," he nods his head in the little gold's direction, "All you have to do is ask and it will be provided to you."

Vasilissa's eyes seem to narrow slightly as the man explains, though she still does not look convinced at all. "If that were the case, Da would have come back at least to visit or taken me with him." Therefore, stolen. And it's defintiely hard to convince her otherwise. Her jaw works angrily for a moment before it seems to relax. "But I won't be the one assuring her of anything right now, I ain't gonna go find them anytime soon." Personal reasons aside, her eyes dart back and forth between the dragon that way, the Weyr, and then back to the rider right in front of her. "I… I remember he's got blue eyes like mine. And he's tall. At least, he was to a kid, maybe he wasn't? He was great, and always took me with him fishing or riding or hunting." It may not help physically, but she sucks in her lower lip with that bit of hope. Suddenly, she shoots the man a glare and her arm unfolds so she can swipe it down aggressively, sending some drips of water from her cloak flying towards the bronwrider. "And I ain't one of you, why would they feed someone like me or my firelizard?"

F'kan is starting to get a bit of a better picture of the girl and her history from the bit that she does share. "Well, I don't know why he didn't, but he certainly could have…" If he wanted to. The last the brownrider leaves unsaid, because the picture the girl is painting is a worrying one if what she says is true. Even if her father had gone off and impressed a dragon, there was nothing to keep him from doing right by his child and their mother. "So you're saying you've run away from your mother then?" he asks with a disaproving brow lifted in the girl's direction. Her description is considered, but he could easily name a dozen riders with blue eyes who were tall and possibly the right age to have sired a teen. "No, you 'ain't', but if your claim is true and your father is a rider here, the Weyr will take care of you, it's our way." He offers with a shrug.

Did the rider want a mopey teenager? Because even if the words are unsaid, Vasilissa definitely seems to catch that understanding. "There's gotta be a reason," she says, trying to stop the quaver of her voice, head down so the cloak hides the quiver of her lower lip. She takes a moment to compose herself and finally snorts at the brownrider's question. "I'm fifteen," she repeats, as if that is answer enough to his question whether she ran off or not. "I know where they are at now." Just in case he thought she was lost or something. She lifts a hand and rubs at her face, pushing curly red hair and cloak hood aside. "That's all I got though, my word. What if he's dead or gone something? Ma said the riders came, took him away. She watched him Impress, wouldn't say a thing to me. I heard from one of my uncles he did and he wouldn't lie, and then he came to work at the Weyr too." That's her proof. She steps back, suddenly discouraged. Her eyes look to the brown and back to F'kan. "I ain't far in the jungle, and I'm fine on my own," she explains to him, looking about ready to bolt. She gives a piercing whistle and her queen actually responds, sated. She flies lazily back to her humanpet's shoulder.

"The Weyr looks after it's own," F'kan repeats simply again as if that should answer all her questions for her. He's not quite sure what else to say, and gives her a thoroughly sympathetic look when she goes on to exaplain a bit more. "Let me make some inquiries for you at least. I can't promise anything, but I could send Queenie to find you in the jungle if I do come up with anything. It's worth a shot right?" Although the brownrider isn't quite sure what will happen if the man is found and it comes out he did actually abandon his family, but that's getting ahead of himself. "And I'm sure you're well able of taking care of yourself. But you should come to see for yourself, what it's all about here at the Weyr. You might come to see that things aren't quite as your mother fears." He offers that with a shrug as he stuffs his hands deep into his pockets with a sigh as it looks like hte girl is getting ready to go.

Vasilissa actually hesitates this time, even as Rusalka settles her wet body into the girl's curls. There's still a sleepy little hiss at the mention of another queen coming around, but this time Vasi does reach out to pat her quiet. "Okay," she says with a firm nod. The spark in her eyes returns a bit. She looks the man up and down one last time. "It ain't so bad, alone in the jungle, you know. I got Ru here to keep me company, too." She feels she has to reassure the man before she leaves, giving her firelizard a little pat on the head. "But I'll wait and see if you find anything, maybe I will come down and get some food. For Ru." Though she looks warily at the Weyr when she says this, as she starts to walk backgrounds. She hesitates a moment, then gives the brownrider a nod in thanks, never vocalizing it, before turning on her heel and striding off quickly into the cover of the trees. Perhaps she gave a few more looks in Quaverilth's direction too before she went, to admire him from the safety of distance.

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