Post by Taxx on Jul 27, 2020 11:44:52 GMT -5
Dawn was just a glimmer on the horizon when the brown was startled awake, drawn by strange sounds of activity. He crept from the crack above the weyr where he’d made his nest and cocked an eye down at the humans and larger cousins below: the short, stumpy-legged whers who were strangely absent, and at the dragons standing around, more than were normal at this time. Something new was going on: but what?
A tangle of dried grass, snatched from the stores meant to feed the herdbeasts and runners, taken to line the niche for comfort, hung from a headknob; it twitched in a stray breeze and fluttered across his vision. The brown reached up a paw and brushed it away, watching for a moment as it drifted downward before settling to groom himself, staying out of the way but still watchful.
Hunger was a growing ache in his belly, and his thoughts turned to food: strengthened by the scents wafting up to him. The dark hid him as he dove from his perch and fluttered down. He landed quietly next to a pile of cloth wrapped around the scent of meat, and he hesitated just a moment before darting into the nearest. The meat had an odd odor, but not one that made it unedible, and the brown wasted little time in tearing off the first mouthful and swallowing it down.
He froze in the midst of gnawing off another bite as footsteps headed nearer, and the opening of the sack was abruptly flipped closed and tied before being lifted; it bumped against a solid body before stilling again, but when he would have made an attempt at bolting for freedom, the loud rattle of something once more froze him where he crouched, and uncertainty kept him from trying again.
He squeaked when he jolted downward, and then again when suddenly everything went up and the sack he was in bounced off the solid frame, upsetting his balance and sending him sliding to one side, along with everything else in the sack, and the edge of something jabbed hard into one flank. He tried to scrabble upright, but the sack and its contents refused to obligingly stay still so he could manage it. The open end on one side called to him and he jammed his head and neck through it, realizing that he and the sack were somehow connected to a dragon and that it was flying; wind buffeted him with each downstroke of the dragon’s wings and he squirmed- much to his dismay, the sack was closed too tightly to let any more of him free.
His head, neck, and both front legs could slide free, but the wide portion of his body wouldn’t fit, no matter how he kicked and struggled; all at once, everything went dark and cold, and the brown yanked his head back into the sack. He knew well enough what this was. He used it too, but he’d never been dragged through like this before, though, without knowing where he meant to end up. Something new was happening and he didn’t like it one bit.
Then the warmth returned, but almost at the same time a piercing, ringing keen rang through the air, a note of grief and loss from countless throats; the brown hissed, head tossing in displeasure at the loud noise. He went to push his head out into the open again, but as he did so everything tilted and the hard blow to his nose made him squawk in pain and retreat once more.
The jolt on landing jarred him again, and a minute later the sack was jostled before going still again, and a moment after that the top was shifting… the second it was flipped back, revealing the wide blue sky and dim light that chased away the darkness of the sack’s interior, the brown was hurling himself toward it, ignoring the shocked exclamation of the person kneeling over him as he put as much distance between himself and the human who had trapped him.
He should have known better than to trust them, but he’d remember this: never believe it when food was left out so invitingly. He wouldn’t be fooled again.
A tangle of dried grass, snatched from the stores meant to feed the herdbeasts and runners, taken to line the niche for comfort, hung from a headknob; it twitched in a stray breeze and fluttered across his vision. The brown reached up a paw and brushed it away, watching for a moment as it drifted downward before settling to groom himself, staying out of the way but still watchful.
Hunger was a growing ache in his belly, and his thoughts turned to food: strengthened by the scents wafting up to him. The dark hid him as he dove from his perch and fluttered down. He landed quietly next to a pile of cloth wrapped around the scent of meat, and he hesitated just a moment before darting into the nearest. The meat had an odd odor, but not one that made it unedible, and the brown wasted little time in tearing off the first mouthful and swallowing it down.
He froze in the midst of gnawing off another bite as footsteps headed nearer, and the opening of the sack was abruptly flipped closed and tied before being lifted; it bumped against a solid body before stilling again, but when he would have made an attempt at bolting for freedom, the loud rattle of something once more froze him where he crouched, and uncertainty kept him from trying again.
He squeaked when he jolted downward, and then again when suddenly everything went up and the sack he was in bounced off the solid frame, upsetting his balance and sending him sliding to one side, along with everything else in the sack, and the edge of something jabbed hard into one flank. He tried to scrabble upright, but the sack and its contents refused to obligingly stay still so he could manage it. The open end on one side called to him and he jammed his head and neck through it, realizing that he and the sack were somehow connected to a dragon and that it was flying; wind buffeted him with each downstroke of the dragon’s wings and he squirmed- much to his dismay, the sack was closed too tightly to let any more of him free.
His head, neck, and both front legs could slide free, but the wide portion of his body wouldn’t fit, no matter how he kicked and struggled; all at once, everything went dark and cold, and the brown yanked his head back into the sack. He knew well enough what this was. He used it too, but he’d never been dragged through like this before, though, without knowing where he meant to end up. Something new was happening and he didn’t like it one bit.
Then the warmth returned, but almost at the same time a piercing, ringing keen rang through the air, a note of grief and loss from countless throats; the brown hissed, head tossing in displeasure at the loud noise. He went to push his head out into the open again, but as he did so everything tilted and the hard blow to his nose made him squawk in pain and retreat once more.
The jolt on landing jarred him again, and a minute later the sack was jostled before going still again, and a moment after that the top was shifting… the second it was flipped back, revealing the wide blue sky and dim light that chased away the darkness of the sack’s interior, the brown was hurling himself toward it, ignoring the shocked exclamation of the person kneeling over him as he put as much distance between himself and the human who had trapped him.
He should have known better than to trust them, but he’d remember this: never believe it when food was left out so invitingly. He wouldn’t be fooled again.