when the darkness strikes [OPEN/Warning: Damion]

[Mystery]

Damion of Damiosk

[/i][/center]In the darkness of the weyr, all things were peace. All things were quiet. All things were silent.

First there was a snarl.

Second there was a scream.

Third, there was an eerie chuckle and then silence. Eerie, echoing silence. It was beyond the natural silence of sleep. There was something just wrong about it.

Better?[/i] Damiosk sat in his place, blood like markings suddenly so much more frightening as the moonlight shed silvery light against his hide, and then the shine on his handlers hands. There was certainly a wetness on his hands, and there was a calm to Damion that had been notably missing for the past few days. He'd been tense, ready to snap, and every person had made him want to rip their throat out with his teeth. Especially some of the women. Shards, those women. They could be attractive, but they just constantly nattered and the girls weren't the only ones he'd been ready to rip apart. When had men gotten so whiny?

"Much." Came the darkly amused voice, hands still busy at work, though the toy he'd come to play with no longer moved at all. Damiosk stalked around them constantly, tail lashing and every attention tuned to the area around him. Anyone approaching would have had a wher snarling in their face. While he and Damion had their issues, their bond was as strong as bonds got and there was love there and the protectiveness that whers were so known for. To catch Damion now, with blood smeared across him, through his hair, on his neck and all over his shirt. Elbow deep in it, infact, and hands absolutely dripping.

Yet Damion was smiling as if he'd just played a game. And won. Had anyone been close to him at that point, his pulse would have been racing with exhiliration, his breathing was certainly heavier than usual and that smile, shards that smile was practically glowing.
"There you go, Damiosk, all yours." The wher snorted, dragging the weighted toy away from Damion and towards the water.
I always.[/i]
"Oh don't complain~ I know you enjoy it. I might join you later." It wasn't like he wasn't half dressed for a swim, his shirt open on his chest and the cooler night air - though there was at least one bloody hand print on his chest.

Damion might have been many things, but stupid was not technically wonderful and to be free of that itch was just glorious.[/blockquote][/blockquote]

[Lark]

She needed to get out. She needed out now, right now!

How could they handle this? It was stifling, it made her want to scream in frustration and tear her hair out. She needed to get away, she needed to get out of here, she needed...air, yes fresh air was probably the easiest way to fix this problem. Nearby Majoriith crooned with a soft worry, the gold surrounding her clutch protectively and lovingly. She was a good mother, always talking to the eggs and giving them attention. Rikula sighed and let her fist unclench where she had wrapped it in her hair. It was bad enough to stay in one location. To stay in the same specific spot on one location?

It was driving her to insanity.

Finally just pulling on a cloak to help cover her from the chilling night, and since she only had on a smaller sleeping tunic kind of piece, Rikula yawned and shook her head, patting her dragoness on her way out of the caves. She couldn't go far, but she could go to the lake at least, and if she brought her bow and it's arrows she could shoot some in and get them later. Or just leave them, she could always make more. Stretching her muscles, the young woman paused on her way at her own weyr to retrieve the things she needed before continuin on to the lake in the Bowl.

She wasnt over near where Damion and Damiosk were, and if not for her being used to seeing things among the shadows she would have missed them entirely. Instead though she just looked up as they were coming from the lake, the man probably going for a swim with his Wher. She didn't know who they were, and for Rikula who had taken a large hand in getting the Wher program restarted, that was odd. Perhaps though the night was just playing tricks on her, perhaps it really was one of the handlers she knew.

Letting it brush off, Rikula set down her bag and let the quiver settle with it, sitting on the ground and pulling the now into her lap and began working in the light of her glow she had brought. It had been a while since she had used it last, and it needed some maintenance, but already the feel of the familiar instrument was making her shoulders relax, causing the headache to go away and making her feel somewhat less claustrophobic.

[Mystery]

Weapon.

[/i]

The only warning Rikula got was a snarl of pure hatred as he lunged towards the quiver, only to be actually snapped back by his handler. Damion was still in a very dangerous mood, and in response to that noose of control around his neck, Damiosk snarled loudly and writhed at the command. His tail lashed dangerously near Rikula, his eyes whirled a vibrant red, and he seemed inclined to lunge again, but another snarl from his handler had him sinking to the ground. His position might have been submissive, but the one eye that was fixed on Rikula didn't cease in whirling red and vibrant dislike.

"Forgive him, Weyrwoman." Damion murmured, pulling his shirt over his head as he stepped towards her, keeping himself out of the light as much as he could. He couldn't take the risk that she knew him, he couldn't take the risk that she might find out and then he'd be screwed. Damion favoured his skin as much as the next person, he favoured living because he lived to kill. That was all he knew, all he needed to know.
"He's a bit testy at meal times, enjoys getting it everywhere. I hope he didn't alarm you."

Oh Damiosk hoped he did. He hoped she screamed. He hoped, he hoped...
"Damiosk, behave."[/blockquote][/blockquote]

[Lark]

"Yes, weapon. What a perceptual wher you are."

Rikula was all calm mockery as she spoke, but her body's tenseness and subtle reaching for the blade hidden in her boot was enough to say she was not stupid. Her eyes flickered only once from the wher to its handler before going back to the wher, accessing the need to flee.

"Don't worry, he didn't alarm me. I'm not some hold girl who's just going to go screaming."

She chuckled at the thought and shook her head, getting up and brushing off her hands before going closer to the lake. Dipping down, she let them rest against the shallow borders, washing the dirt off of them before she looked up toward the pair once more. No, she did not know these two and she knew almost all of the ranking colors of the wherhold. A garnet could not have easily passed her by.

"You're not of Trelis."

It was not a question, but instead a statement of fact. Rikula shrugged though, indicating that she cared little about who they were or where they were from. It was no big secret that Rindell riders and handlers occasionally visited Trelis. They had been close at times as much as they had been apart. "Damiosk, if that's his name I suppose yours must have Dami in it. So, Dami, what brings you to my Weyr?"