The young brown wher was very proud of himself. He actually struck a slight pose on the top of the herdbeast he had just killed.
This elicited a smile from his handler, leaning against the fence. "Stop playing with it, Kevorask, and eat it."
The brown was everything she could have dreamed about...even if sometimes he seemed like a bundle of teeth and claws.
A big bundle of teeth and claws these days. No matter what people said about whers being smaller than dragons, that didn't make them *small*. Kevorask was pretty much big enough to ride now, even if the wings still made that awkward. Besides, she wasn't about to push him.
It would be a while before they graduated and took their place protecting the Weyr. The hybrids would help too, although Kevora was...she found them fascinating, but also a little disturbing. She would not have turned down an opportunity to stand for that clutch, but she was glad she had her wher.
Kevorask tore into the herdbeast. Her wher, who was growing just as he should be...as were the rest, even the strange colored one. How the offworlders had got to a wher egg to mess with it she would never know, but she would bet the strange female was fertile just to make their lives interesting...
<Silly youngthing!> Konstantinsk rumbled to his handler. <You watch! Watch me kill!>
Konstantin raised his eyebrows as the bronze leapt over the fence on the opposite side of the pens to the young brown. Well, no help for it, and he wouldnít do any harm... well, not to anything other than the beasts. As the tall wher charged around herding the beasts like a canine, the white-haired man sauntered around the outside of the pens to join the other hander. He didnít know most of them very well yet, and the crowd of new youngsters he didnít know at all. ďDonít mind him,Ē he said, offering the woman a grin, ďheís just showing off. The nameís Konstantin, and heís Konstantinsk; donít believe Iíve had the pleasure of speaking to you before?Ē
"You haven't, I don't think. Kevora...and my brown is Kevorask." The bronze was, of course, bigger than her not-quite-grown wher, but that didn't bother her.
She was quite, quite happy that her wher had turned out to be a brown, not any other color. Of course, she would probably have felt the same way had she bonded a green.
Kevorask, for his part, mock-snarled at the bronze. No, he didn't need anyone teaching him how to kill...besides, he already had his dinner, and nobody was taking it from him. Even big-grown-bronzes.
"Kevorask. Be nice. He's getting his own beast, he doesn't need yours." She smiled at the other handler. "They never let us forget that they're predators, do they."
Never, never, never. But then, that was part of why she had wanted them. That sense of danger that tended to lie behind what passed for civilized thought in a wher was distinctly appealing...to certain personality types.