- Messages
- 31
- Character Biography
- Link
"Come on boy."
Otho disliked the saddle, especially at first. It meant that Voe was going to feed him that certain mixture ores and minerals that reacted so spectacularly within him.
Otho whined but followed unwilling to face disobedience. The bucket smelled of salt peter and lime. Death to almost any other living thing but in the belly of a Drake hound it unlocked the great draconic potential for a time and Voe had paid steeply for the knowledge.
As Otho's great blue mouth began to gorge on the mixture Voe watched for abnormalities, spines, vestigial limbs, misproportion of any kind but especially the tail told of problems that would need to be addressed. It was for such reasons that Voe was so strict with Otho. Ingesting unknowns could effect his metabolism to unknown effect.
Size was the first and most obvious tell. Otho grew and grew to beyond the size of a horse and longer than any alligator. In this form Otho was mightier, bigger claws, bigger teeth and his will became harder. Voe wrestled the bit onto a mouth that could have claimed him almost whole. Then the saddle came and Otho resisted less, he knew what his duty was and Voe would be sure to reward him afterwards with a long scrub and heavy meats and charcoal.
Otho's favourite.
When the preparations were done Voe led Otho out into the courtyard at Crobhear where Cass and her own Cadfael would be there soon pending their own preparations.
The sun bloomed cold into the blue canopy of the morning sky as the chill of winter tried to lay claim to earth and air and all that sat between them. Otho's breath burned hot and heavy in great plumes of condensed air. Voe's own by comparison were short and brief.
Looking up Voe's senses were brought to movement that at first looked to be a cloud tracking across the sky but were actually geese. Wild geese seeking warmth farther south. That seemed like wisdom. To follow the pleasant climes of nature and go where life was easy.
Winter in the Spire was rarely easy or quick. It was a hunting thing and the best one might do was hide from it, hope it doesn't find you.
Voe would be unable to travel without Otho whose great limbs bore him onwards and even upwards on the newly grown flaps of skin that let him ascend the impassable terrain of the peaks. Not as high as Cadfael but Otho had land speed and could keep up well enough.
As a team, they covered above and below with competence and so that was needed today as word of a landslide brought on by the recent heavy rain had wiped away a section of the High Pass, a of slip road some fifty or so miles north from Crobhear.
A jolly ride for a promising day.
Voe was almost looking forward to it.
Cassiane
Otho disliked the saddle, especially at first. It meant that Voe was going to feed him that certain mixture ores and minerals that reacted so spectacularly within him.
Otho whined but followed unwilling to face disobedience. The bucket smelled of salt peter and lime. Death to almost any other living thing but in the belly of a Drake hound it unlocked the great draconic potential for a time and Voe had paid steeply for the knowledge.
As Otho's great blue mouth began to gorge on the mixture Voe watched for abnormalities, spines, vestigial limbs, misproportion of any kind but especially the tail told of problems that would need to be addressed. It was for such reasons that Voe was so strict with Otho. Ingesting unknowns could effect his metabolism to unknown effect.
Size was the first and most obvious tell. Otho grew and grew to beyond the size of a horse and longer than any alligator. In this form Otho was mightier, bigger claws, bigger teeth and his will became harder. Voe wrestled the bit onto a mouth that could have claimed him almost whole. Then the saddle came and Otho resisted less, he knew what his duty was and Voe would be sure to reward him afterwards with a long scrub and heavy meats and charcoal.
Otho's favourite.
When the preparations were done Voe led Otho out into the courtyard at Crobhear where Cass and her own Cadfael would be there soon pending their own preparations.
The sun bloomed cold into the blue canopy of the morning sky as the chill of winter tried to lay claim to earth and air and all that sat between them. Otho's breath burned hot and heavy in great plumes of condensed air. Voe's own by comparison were short and brief.
Looking up Voe's senses were brought to movement that at first looked to be a cloud tracking across the sky but were actually geese. Wild geese seeking warmth farther south. That seemed like wisdom. To follow the pleasant climes of nature and go where life was easy.
Winter in the Spire was rarely easy or quick. It was a hunting thing and the best one might do was hide from it, hope it doesn't find you.
Voe would be unable to travel without Otho whose great limbs bore him onwards and even upwards on the newly grown flaps of skin that let him ascend the impassable terrain of the peaks. Not as high as Cadfael but Otho had land speed and could keep up well enough.
As a team, they covered above and below with competence and so that was needed today as word of a landslide brought on by the recent heavy rain had wiped away a section of the High Pass, a of slip road some fifty or so miles north from Crobhear.
A jolly ride for a promising day.
Voe was almost looking forward to it.
Cassiane