Timestamp: Fall 25, 514 AV
Location: Sira's Aerie
Sira was irritated. That wasn't a particularly unusual mood for her, but this day she had a good reason. Or at least some sort of reason. She was going hunting today, normally a good thing, but this time she had been assigned a passenger.
A petching passenger!
Sira had not allowed anyone on her back since.. well, in a long time. And they had the nerve to assign her a passenger!? What the petch did she need someone to go hunting with her for? She did just fine solo, or at least she thought she did. A second hunter.. It was.. It was insulting is why it was.
Truth be told, if she was honest with herself, and she had no intention of being that, she was a bit excited. She missed the companionship of having a rider, and did actually enjoy hunting in pairs or groups. But there was no way she was going to admit that, especially to the chief, or yasi, or whatever it was that was attending her.
"What.. The petch.. Is that!?"
Her psychic voice exploded into the minds of the two Inarta carrying a large, old, two person saddle.
"It's.. it's your saddle, endal.. Wind eagle Sira."
"That, she responded, the irritation resounding plain in their minds, Is not my saddle."
"But endal, er, wind eagle Sira, you might-"
Sira cut him off with a piercing screech, ruffling up her feathers angrily and turning her head to stare at him with one large golden eye. The yasi froze for a moment, before trying again. Sira stopped him with an even louder shriek. For a long moment they just stood their staring at each other until the chiet gulped and tore one more time. This time Sira let him talk.
"Sira.. Endal, um.. Wind eagle. You might be having two riders today."
"Might?"
"Um.. Yes."
"They can petching squeeze together on my saddle, or I'll carry one of them in my beak! Get that petching pile of pigeon shyke out of my sight, and bring me MY saddle!"
"But endal-"
Sira snapped her beak at the attendant, silencing him, and both of them hurried away. Not long after they returned with her saddle, a glorious white leather beauty designed to fit her body perfectly. It had been a gift, and it was the only saddle Sira had any intention of wearing any time soon. Unfortunately it only sat one, at least comfortably, but Sira didn't care. The saddle felt good on her back, and after the attendants left, Sira occupied herself by preening while she waited for her passengers. She refused to call them riders.
Location: Sira's Aerie
Sira was irritated. That wasn't a particularly unusual mood for her, but this day she had a good reason. Or at least some sort of reason. She was going hunting today, normally a good thing, but this time she had been assigned a passenger.
A petching passenger!
Sira had not allowed anyone on her back since.. well, in a long time. And they had the nerve to assign her a passenger!? What the petch did she need someone to go hunting with her for? She did just fine solo, or at least she thought she did. A second hunter.. It was.. It was insulting is why it was.
Truth be told, if she was honest with herself, and she had no intention of being that, she was a bit excited. She missed the companionship of having a rider, and did actually enjoy hunting in pairs or groups. But there was no way she was going to admit that, especially to the chief, or yasi, or whatever it was that was attending her.
"What.. The petch.. Is that!?"
Her psychic voice exploded into the minds of the two Inarta carrying a large, old, two person saddle.
"It's.. it's your saddle, endal.. Wind eagle Sira."
"That, she responded, the irritation resounding plain in their minds, Is not my saddle."
"But endal, er, wind eagle Sira, you might-"
Sira cut him off with a piercing screech, ruffling up her feathers angrily and turning her head to stare at him with one large golden eye. The yasi froze for a moment, before trying again. Sira stopped him with an even louder shriek. For a long moment they just stood their staring at each other until the chiet gulped and tore one more time. This time Sira let him talk.
"Sira.. Endal, um.. Wind eagle. You might be having two riders today."
"Might?"
"Um.. Yes."
"They can petching squeeze together on my saddle, or I'll carry one of them in my beak! Get that petching pile of pigeon shyke out of my sight, and bring me MY saddle!"
"But endal-"
Sira snapped her beak at the attendant, silencing him, and both of them hurried away. Not long after they returned with her saddle, a glorious white leather beauty designed to fit her body perfectly. It had been a gift, and it was the only saddle Sira had any intention of wearing any time soon. Unfortunately it only sat one, at least comfortably, but Sira didn't care. The saddle felt good on her back, and after the attendants left, Sira occupied herself by preening while she waited for her passengers. She refused to call them riders.