Post by danaphantom on Jan 4, 2013 2:02:06 GMT -5
While not a normal chore for a Queen and her Handler, Ranis and Ranisk were, never the less, stalking along the outside of the Weyrbowl. They were getting a feel for their new home, finding weak points in the defenses and places where something could hide away - all important things that any Wherhandler needed to know. Everything they found would be passed along to the more regular patrols so they would know to check on a nightly basis. It would be good for Ranisk to know as well, if just because one could not deny the absolute power of the wher. Should anything happen, the only thing that would really outweigh the Gold would be a Dragon, but they were next to useless at night. No, after twilight was her domain, and she would keep it in check.
"Notice anything?," Ranis whispered from her perch atop the wher's massive shoulders. Riding a wher was not the most traditional activity a handler took part in, but with Ranisk's size, it made for a good overview of the bowl. Her eyesight may not be as keen, but she could still see movement, variations on the ground where paths had been tamped down, and pick out more humanlike activity.
Smell diff'rent, the sunset-colored Wher replied, stopping to shove her broad nose into a crack, snuffling for a tunnelsnake or other critter.
"Different? How so?" The woman was being quiet not out of necessity, but simply because there was no need to be loud. The Wher's ears were keen enough and shouting would only be a waste of time an energy.
Wet. Dirt. Beasties. The first two were understandable - the northern-bred pair were not used to the humid jungle of the Southern Continent yet. The last one, however, caused the handler to narrow her eyes, peering around.
"Are they close?"
No. Smell old. More in trees. Safe in Weyr.
Well, that was a relief. Ranis scratched the ridges of her wher as thanks for the information. They continued on, then, searching for the next discovery.
"Notice anything?," Ranis whispered from her perch atop the wher's massive shoulders. Riding a wher was not the most traditional activity a handler took part in, but with Ranisk's size, it made for a good overview of the bowl. Her eyesight may not be as keen, but she could still see movement, variations on the ground where paths had been tamped down, and pick out more humanlike activity.
Smell diff'rent, the sunset-colored Wher replied, stopping to shove her broad nose into a crack, snuffling for a tunnelsnake or other critter.
"Different? How so?" The woman was being quiet not out of necessity, but simply because there was no need to be loud. The Wher's ears were keen enough and shouting would only be a waste of time an energy.
Wet. Dirt. Beasties. The first two were understandable - the northern-bred pair were not used to the humid jungle of the Southern Continent yet. The last one, however, caused the handler to narrow her eyes, peering around.
"Are they close?"
No. Smell old. More in trees. Safe in Weyr.
Well, that was a relief. Ranis scratched the ridges of her wher as thanks for the information. They continued on, then, searching for the next discovery.