Who | |
What |
Maikah heads out to look for a wayward ram, instead he pretty much tramples through a wildling encampment, picking up a Devana in the process. No sheep were harmed in the making of this log. |
When |
It is afternoon of the twenty-fifth day of the fifth month of the nineteenth turn of the 12th pass. |
Where |
Clearing, Southern Weyr |
OOC Date | 24 Feb 2020 11:00 |
"I know we're a bewilderin' sight and all, boyo, but at least stop and plot yer way 'round us, aye?"
Clearing
The rise from sea to Weyr is made serene by a charming road winding sand-trodden from beach below to stonecut entrance above. The path wanders among a surprisingly green valley where purple flowers bloom in charmingly unfettered profusion. The meadows themselves are often in high demand as picnic areas, for dragons are not allowed to land in the narrow valley itself. No trees nor cliff lies near to shadow the clearing, however, and the intensity of sun can be unbearable for those not familiar with the humid drench of Southern's summers.
It is the fifty-fifth day of Autumn and 60 degrees. A light drizzle is all that remains of the storm. A soft breeze ripples leftover standing water.
It isn't every day one finds a group of wildlings camped out in the Weyr clearing. The presence of the Erdou isn't unexpected to certain parties, at least; it's why there are Weyr guards watching from the entrance but not looking perturbed about it. It's a gathering of about a dozen among five tents, and at the moment, it looks like a meal has just been finished. Comfortable in hide and linen clothing in the cooler autumn weather, the Erdou go about cleaning and mending, chatting and tending to their horses. One sits at the outer edge of the group, facing out into the clearing - a woman with long, curly brown hair and dark eyes, dressed in a long, broad-stitched tunic of deep green and brown over soft hide pants and tall wherhide boots, currently sharpening arrowheads on a whetsone with her bow sitting close at hand.
Maikah definitely doesn't count as one of the ones in the know. Certainly not about things such as wildling migrations. So there is a certain sense of habitual obliviousness as he strides past the guards with his dogs at this heels. Just another day looking for lost sheep! And he keeps on striding, until a yip from one of his collies alerts him to the fact he was about to trample all through someones cook fire. Of course the human protests would have done the same thing! Holding his hands up to indicate complete and utter helplessness (ignore the bush knife, it's for beasties). He quickly backs up and offers his sincerest apologies in a deep bass voice. Not expecting a full on campsite in the generally empty clearing has him a bit flustered. And wildlings can be prickly. "Sorry!" He offers once more, another yip alerting him to the fact he's about to wander into the arrow-sharpening chick set slightly back from the crowd. "Sorry!" PLEASE DON'T HURT HIM!
These wildlings are no exception when it comes to prickliness. The Erdou, fortunately, are not the sort to react with immediate violence, even if they do get grumpy. The horses get unsettled at the proximity and yipping of the canines, prompting their owners to hop up and soothe them. The woman looks up in time to see that there's some Weyr-man (presumably) about to trip over himself and swiftly sets her arrow down, standing up and sticking out an arm to catch his shoulder, unabashed about potentially invading his space. So long as it avoids a collision. "I know we're a bewilderin' sight and all, boyo, but at least stop and plot yer way 'round us, aye?" There's sternness to her, yes, but definite amusement glinting in her brown gaze as she watches the blue-eyed man expectantly.
"It's more that you're here, not that you're bewildering." Maikah answers, regaining equilibrium even as he clicks his fingers to get his pups to heel once more. There is a slight glimmer of abashed humor in his own pale blue eyes. Maikah always does better outside. "I was miles away, not paying attention." He admits, gesturing towards the bush beyond. "Might have had a few too many last night…" Not the grin is as open as it can be behind his autumn-dense beard. "That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it." Seeing as neither he or his dogs are likely to be brutally murdered he relaxes a little (just a little). "Maikah, herder journeyman." He makes his introductions now before the conversation veers into topics which are best left until after introductions are made. He does learn!
The woman smirks deeply, folding her arms. She's quite used to the reactions her peoples' presence tend to draw simply for being somewhere unexpected. Which is why she started by picking on him a bit. She appreciates his humor, listening to him with a little tilt of her head and a slightly lifted brow as she stands at her ease. "A stiff drink'll do that to ye, I hear," she notes, and bobs her head at him. "Devana, daughter of the Erdou. Huntress and healer, usually." Her attention flicks curiously to his dogs. "What do ye herd, then, Journeyman Maikah?"
"Sheep." Maikah answers with the appropriately reverential tone he feels the subject deserves. Sure let the flashy 'cool' guys have their runners and herdbeasts, Maikah is quite happy with his little balls of fluff thanks! "Usually they're pretty easy to herd." He admits, nodding at his dogs, who have settled now that it seems he is having a bit of a chin-wag. "Not so much at the moment." He frowns thoughtfully. "I'm about to track one down…" His brows shoot up. "I'm probably nowhere near as good as you at tracking, but if you want to go for a bit of a walk, I won't say no." It really is the reason he was heading out in the first place. Aside from you know nearly walking into a fire, and pissing a whole heap of wildlings off, this encounter seems more serendipitous than most of Maikah's encounters with the ladies.
Devana nods at that. "We don't keep sheep," she says of her clan, "but I've seen 'em. Used to live somewhat near the fields a handful o' Turns ago." The wildling woman looks surprised at the invitation this man she's only traded a few sentences with thus far gives, dropping her arms with a chuckle. "Lost one, aye? Well…business bein' done for the day, why not?" She reaches down to pick up her bow along with a quiver that had been propped out of sight behind her perch. This, she affixes to her belt at her left hip, slinging the bow across her body after that. "What better way t' get t' know someone than a little friendly trackin'?" Her amusement showing upon much more than her eyes know, she gestures for the bearded herder to lead the way. "Where'd ye notice it missin'?"
Maikah doesn't really do things marches to the beat of his own drums, or perhaps a tambourine. Something! "Figured you'd be better at it." He admits, still grinning, not that he's a slouch, just acknowledging that native experience is better than the ones he's gathered in his turns at Southern. "The rams get cranky and wander off a lot at this time of the turn, you may have noticed when you were living beside them." See, introductions first! Then the talking of sheep mating seasons second! He's on to it! And he's on his way, Shep and Pard resuming their pace beside him, before flowing out to where their noses tell them interesting things are. "I noticed him missing from the paddock." Up over there somewhere, he gestures. "But this one has a thing for the dunes." Perhaps it won't be a challenge after all. "I think he likes the salty grasses."
Devana dips her head in gratitude when Maikah gives credit to skills he hasn't yet seen on display but that she's confident in. When he gestures toward the paddock, she steps that way a bit, eyes toward the ground, but stops when he mentions the savannah. "Have ye already been out there?" she asks, bringing up the area he mentions in her mind's eye. Not one she's traversed much, but tracking is tracking. She can adjust.
Maikah winks, it is a blink and you miss it kind of thing. "Today? Nah." He answers with the brevity that means he's thinking, one eye on the dogs one eye on the wildling. "But I've been known to go walk about out beyond." Although his tone suggests the savannah isn't as beyond as he would like to wander at this time. "I'd ask if you have, but I reckon you've seen more than I have." He shrugs, one day though right? There is nothing in his manner that suggests any kind of urgency. "I'll warn you though, sheep look like free dindins for wherries…and felines…and dragons." Their search could be unsuccessful.
If Devana sees that wink, she doesn't show it…though it might be hard to tell, considering the continued undercurrent of amusement that's going into her interaction with Maikah. "I reckon I probably have," she says of seeing more than he has, matter of fact. "There's a lot that looks like free…'dindins'…for all o' those," she notes, "though sheep more than most. Yet ye haven't been out to the dunes." She pauses, arching a somewhat fierce brow at him. "Are ye really all that concerned, or are ye just not wantin' to make the trek alone?"
Maikah snorts, because. "I've been told I spend too much time alone, and I was heading out anyways." There is another shrug, cos he is awkward, but she agreed to come to a second location with him! "Figured may as well share the adventure." It's a little adventure, minuscule really! "I usually do this kind of thing alone." He's not a scardy cat okay? This invitation was entirely for her benefit. He pauses for a moment, before continuing. "If I knew the blighter was missing earlier, I woulda gone looking for him earlier!" And probably stepped in someones stew, rather than narrowly avoiding their fire.
Hearing that Maikah is typically out wandering alone increases the curiosity in Devana's regard. His last pulls forth a laugh, and she holds up her half-gloved hands in a quick gesture of surrender. "Aye, aye, fair enough," she chuckles. "Ye know how far off the savannah is; are ye wantin' to go there now, or look somewhere else first?" She wanders back toward him, flipping the mass of dark waves back that makes up her hair back over her shoulder as she goes.
Maikah frowns for a moment. "That's the question isn't it?" They're far enough away from the Erdou campsite that the ground is undisturbed (aside from the loping trails of the dogs as they follow their doggy inclinations), but there are still things to be noticed by those who have eyes. Maikah has eyes! But they're a long way from the ground, so he crouches at a likely scuff of dirt, long fingers testing the edges. "Too old." He declares definitively, a change coming over him as he actually gets to work. "We're looking for hoof prints or caught fleece. He's growing in his winter coat right now. Fat bastard." Because as much as he likes to get out of the Weyr, it's a little inconvenient to do so every other day. Squinting sunwards he paces forwards a little more. "If he's made it all the way out to the savannah, he's gone." The herder grins. "Either a meal or joining a wild herd." He crouches again to check the next potential clue.
"Ought not t' be too hard to catch tracks, what with all the rain," Devana observes, crouching in turn with eyes slightly narrowed as she scans the ground and the surrounding flora. "O' course, that means there'll be tracks for everything else, too." And age is a bit hard to determine in the mud, though since it's been drier today, it's clear the print Maikah examines is, in fact, older than most. "Rams'll be heavier, carryin' more weight forward, so a deeper track…" Still crouched she moves off a way, following some seemingly disturbed dried grasses. "Here's a possibility," she calls a bit later, now bent to some cloven prints that head downhill somewhat parallel to the road.
Maikah is quick to check out the print she has found, but Pard is quicker. Oh hai! The dog wags her tail furiously even as she engages in some submissive posturing. Pard is a big softy really. "Out of it!" Maikah gives a skritch and a push with rough affection. Taking in the print, before scanning the vegetation. "Yes! Look!" He points at where some of the grasses have been clipped. "Told you you're better at it!" He only tracks for his job, she tracks for her dinner right. With a piercing whistle he calls Shep closer and continues down the path. "If he's grazing he's not likely to be moving fast." This is getting better and better!
Devana suddenly has a canine in her face, which catches her off guard. The Erdou don't keep canines. She might be wondering about one now, though, unable to keep herself from smiling as she watches Maikah deal with the pup. Then her attention is back to where the herder is pointing, startling momentarily when he whistles. "Let's hope you're right," she says to the idea that the ram might just be grazing, and pushes forward, following the subdued trail of teeth-clipped grasses.
Maikah is a bit of an optimist! Who knew! Stretching his legs to their full stride he continues down the path to (hopefully) sheepy redemption! Shep and Pard trotting along beside with tongues lolling, Pard pausing every so often to make sure Devana is keeping up. "Fingers crossed!" Maikah is practically beaming now even as he follows the path in between two bushes. In the grassy distance lies their quarry. Except it isn't lying, it's more standing, and ripping up grass and chewing. At least it isn't bleating! It's canny enough to avoid that mistake. "Yes!" Maikah pumps a fist in triumph. Usually these searches end in woe, but not today Satan, not today! "Gitt'em! Go!" He finally allows the dogs proper release, if Devana was surprised at Pard's antics, she should prepare to be amazed at their training. The ram doesn't stand a chance. Aware that perhaps in his concentration he's allowed silence to reign far more than is polite he blurts. "I reckon you're good luck! D'you want to get a beer when I get the bastard back?"
Devana can't help but grin at Maikah's enthusiasm when their efforts meet with success, though she does find herself fascinated by what the canines do next. She doesn't mind the quiet, watching the dogs in silence and contemplating how their training might've worked. She's thinking hard enough, in fact, that Maikah's sudden question has her snapping out of it with a few quick blinks. "A…beer?" Has she had one of those, even in her time at the Weyr? She glances back toward the camp, then gives a shrug. "I reckon I wouldn't mind," she replies easily, "though I might pick somethin' else." Why not? This little escape with the herder has made the afternoon interesting, after all.
I'm not saying Shep and Pard are the brains of this operation… but Shep and Pard are the brains of this operation. They'll see this wayward ram home, with Shep barking his nut off, while Pard stalks silently. Their individual natures informing the training and the jobs that they have. "Beers an acquired taste." Maikah seems reluctant to admit that fact. "But I've seen these little cocktails with things in them at the 'Kitten. My shout." He nods firmly as he turns back up the track. And they'll return to the Weyr thus, with Maikah blurting out whatever crosses his mind every so often. And the afternoon will end with a beer for the bloke, and a froofy cocktail for her. Who says sheeps are boring!