~~*~~ Fort Weyr - Feeding Grounds ~~*~~
Milling herdbeasts dot this lightly grassy section of the southern end of the bowl. Fences keep them neatly secured on all sides, even extending into the lake, allowing the beasts ample drinking water without granting them an escape. Dragons young and old come here to hunt on a fairly regular basis, though not all come at once of course. From here you can easily make out the entirety of the Weyr's lake as it spreads out south and southwest to the tumbled rubble of the far shore, while the rest of the bowl lies beyond the fences to the southeast, east and northeast.


The afternoon's worn on, chores and finished for the day, and Amethyst has invited Ravyal to probably one of the least inviting areas of the Weyr for those unused to the sight of dragons getting their nom on. She doesn't look the most comfortable with things herself, but she's putting on a brave face as they stand in the shadow of a circling blue, who's clearly just waiting to make his pick before swooping down to capture it in his claws. "We have to get used to this, I suppose," she repeats for the hundredth time since suggesting their little trip.

Ravyal had /reasons/ for not wanting to check out the big hunting event that so many went to. But he's out at the feeding grounds all the same, standing alongside Amethyst. He doesn't look terribly comfortable with the idea. There's an uneasy glance up at the dragon above, before his gaze slides elsewhere, peering up at the older candidate. "Do we /really/ have to? It's not…I mean.. We might not need to anyway, and.. Well I.." The former weaver seems to finally give up that thought, sighing. "I'm glad it's not dinner yet.."

"It's ok, Rav." Amethyst reaches out to give his shoulder a gentle squeeze of encouragement. "Maybe we won't need to, but if we do… then we'll be straight into it after tha Hatching, from what I've come to understand. It, um, makes sense to… oh." Oh look! The blue suddenly makes his dive, knocking his chosen herdbeast over before he starts tearing into it. "Oh dear." Amethyst looks a little green around the gills now, biting down on her lip as she forces herself to watch.

"Not /this/ involved…" Ravyal waves toward the field a bit, giving a small sniff. "I..I mean, it's already dead and in bits..right? It can't be all that different from what they put in the stews in the kitchen.." Hopefully. Maybe. The former weaver does look, however, a bit caught up in the abruptness of the blue's drop. His eyes do widen, however. Perhaps he wasn't expecting the dragon to just get right to it like that. If Amethyst is looking green, so is he, though he can't seem to look away from it either. "..So glad..it's not dinner yet.."

It's one of those morbid sights that you just can't look away from! Amethyst's gaze is fixed on the blue and his feeding, and she maybe has to sneak her hand out to capture Ravyal's for a little comfort as she blinks her wide eyes. "Cut up, yes, but… is it all that different, really?" She squeezes his hand when there's a very audible snap of bone from the pens, and makes a little groan of grossed-outness. "I've never liked handling raw meat."

Ravyal can't keep looking at it. It doesn't take him long to snap out of it and jerk his eyes away from the gory scene. He's pale, certainly, but holds onto Amethyst's hand when it's grabbed at. "I worked in the kitchen today.." Well it's not /quite/ a subject change. But it helps him at least try not thinking about the /noises/ going on in the pen. Noises that he cringes away from slightly while looking decidedly more grossed out. "I don't think I /want/ dinner.."

"I had infirmary duty." The other could-be grisly chore! Aren't they they lucky pair? Amethyst watches for just a moment longer than Ravyal can manage, before she, too, looks away, turning watery eyes up to the sky before blinking them rapidly. She's quiet for a few moments before looking at Ravyal, giving his hand another little squeeze. "You'll be hungry enough to eat. We both will be… though maybe let's stick to veggies and cake?" The ex-Smith laughs, winking down at her younger peer. "What's your favourite meal?"

His favorite meal? Alas, perhaps talking about the kitchen was a bad idea! Ravyal looks absolutely horrified by the question for a moment, tugging away from Amethyst's hand. She's not the problem, of course. It's the fact that that former weaver quite abruptly turns away and lurches forward, one hand gripping the fence for stability as he loses what's left from lunch all over the grass. Oops.

Amethyst lets go of his hand quick enough, pulling a face when Ravyal chucks up… a face that suggests he might have triggered the same reaction in her. She makes a gagging sound, turning her back on the teenager to face away from him as she tries to get her own reflexes under control… aren't they just the perfect puking pair? "You ok?" Her voice is strained… suggesting she, perhaps, isn't that ok. Not at the moment.

It takes a moment or two for Ravyal to get back under control again. It's never /fun/ to throw up. "I think…so.." Out of breath, and certainly sounding a bit strained himself, the teenager takes a bit of time to finally straighten back up again. He is definitely going to need to rinse his mouth out. Though he does finally take a peek back at Amethyst, frowning. "A..are you?"

Amethyst has another moment of battling with her nausea before she nods a reply to Ravyal, slowly straightening up. "Will be," she answers quietly, clutching the fence as she turns around to look at him again. Her eyes are watery, and she rubs the heels of her hands over them. "Oh Faranth. We're hopeless, aren't we?"

Ravyal laughs weakly, leaning against the fence somewhat. "Completely." Hey, Ravyal deals in cloth and other such woven things. Blood and crunching bones just aren't things he's had to deal with before. But at least he doesn't seem to notice much now that his wave of nausea has been taken care of. He doesn't look /back/ to the feasting dragon though. Not again. "Still here though..right?"

"Right. We didn't run off. That's got to be a good thing." Amethyst nods, though she's still wearing a face that looks as if it could throw up; she's still got all her lunch in her belly. The candidate chews on her bottom lip, risking another look over at the dragon, and forcing herself to smile, if only weakly. "It's… not so bad. We can do it." She holds out her hand towards Ravyal, wiggling her fingers to invite him to hold it - as much for her own comfort as to encourage him. "Are you excited about the Hatching?"

Ravyal gives a small smile at that, but does take the older candidate's hand. Comfort is a wonderful thing, and he'll take what he can get of it. "Not excited enough to throw up about it.." There's at least a tiny bit of humor there, and the former weaver manages another laugh. He's still not looking back into the pen though. Heck no. "I touched some of the eggs.. It makes me..I dunno. But I think..excited is the word for it. To be out there and see what comes out of them.."

"You've not got enough left in your belly to throw up any more," Amethyst teases, giving his hand a squeeze. "Did you get to touch the eggs? I've managed to miss out on that so far, though I hope to get to them soon… some of the others were talking about it, and it sounds pretty amazing. Who would think little eggs could feel so much?" She looks back at the blue, who's mostly finished by now, and sighs. "Think you might Impress?"

Ravyal nods quickly. "It was..amazing. I didn't think it would be like it was." He chews on his lower lip…but then seems to think better of it. Given the face he makes, it might not /taste/ very good, either. He seems a little startled though, staring at Amethyst in surprised. "Do I /think/ I might? I don't…I don't know. The eggs felt..I don't know.. Some of them seemed to feel to me like they were…happy…to have me there. But I think they were happy for all the contact with everyone.."

"Happy? That's… that's good, I suppose." Amethyst ponders that for a moment, then nods - yep, good. "I suppose we'll all find out in good time. If we're meant to be riders. And if we aren't… then it's back to normality! I believe we're heading to Telgar, after here. Got to continue the roadshow!"

A thought that doesn't exactly bring a smile to Ravyal's face. He nods though, situating himself a bit more comfortably against the fence. "I'll get back to learning.. I…I won't be happy to see you go though. You've been a good friend…you know?"

Amethyst looks surprised, and flattered. "Would you? I'd be sad to go too, I think, but I also very much want to get my journeyman's knot." She drums her fingers off the upper rung of the fence. thoughtful. "Perhaps they'll allow me to come back here to work once I've been promoted. It's not a permanent thing me leaving, anyway - I can always come back. And you can always come see me, too! You could be my official podium-decorator."

"No offense, but I really hope to do a bit more with myself than decorate podiums.." Ravyal smiles at that, but does finally move away from the fence, releasing Amethyst's hand. "I want to, one day, make one of those big tapestries they hang in halls and stuff.." The candidate makes a slight face then, shaking his head. "But before that..I think I really need a drink." Mouth…still tastes awful!

"None taken!" Amethyst laughs, dropping her hold on the fence when Ravyal moves, following him. "If you would consider coming to do it for my shows, though, I would appreciate it? If you can squeeze it in between your tapestry-making, of course - those things look complicated." She slips her hands into the pockets of her trousers, nodding in agreement with him needing a drink. She could use one, too. "Shall we go to the living caverns?"

Ravyal nods a little, starting to move away from the pens already. Because..really. Getting /away/ from there is top priority. "Super complicated..yeah. But they're so..beautiful.." When completed, anyway. The former weaver simply looks a bit lost in thought about his craft though as he walks, sighing out a soft breath. "I don't miss stabbing myself in the fingers all the time though.."

Amethyst laughs, falling in alongside Rav. "Absolutely worth the effort that goes into them. When I'm a super-rich Smith," haha - one day! - "I'll commission one from you… if your fingers haven't been stabbed to death by then." She winks, holding out her own work-scarred hands, before starting to tell him all about the hell her own digits regularly go through. And the stories continue, on into the living caverns!