Half Moon Bay Weyr - [TP] Fallen Tree Field
Not far from the weyr and the feeding grounds is this swath of land that was once clearly part of the jungle. It's been completely leveled and any evidence of its once tall and proud residents have been removed, save for two. An enormous felled tree lays in its relative entirety right smack dab in the middle of this reclaimed area, otherwise the field is either tilled in preparation for the next planting season, or is in some stage of crop growth. The reason as to why this lone tree was allowed to remain is not immediately clear, but it has been there for quite some time considering the graffiti that has been carved into its aged and weathered trunk, along with dozens of little cuts that makes it seem as if someone had been aggressively attacking it with a hatchet. Most of its branches have been removed completely, or have been chopped away in segments. Perhaps whoever is in charge of this project has decided to take their time. The stump of another tree lingers nearby, this one with clear purpose, as a pile of firewood for the kitchens has started to pile up beside it. An axe sits, embedded in the center, as a stack of unsplit logs rests within reach. The grass around both sad remains of what was once dense and green, is browned and crunches beneath any who tread here, growing more and more sparse towards the fallen tree until it gives way to dull gray barren ground. The soil there is found to be more clay than fertile farmland, which may explain the lack of a rush to clear it out.

That destroyed tree in a field has itself and occupant. There is a teen that seems to have taken up residence as of late, perched next to a particularly mangled section that looks like a rabid beaver picked a fight with the log. With one shoulder bare of the wide-necked tunic he wears, Taeski is settled cross-legged, balancing a drawing pad in his lap. At least he's managing to keep something of a proper posture instead of being hunched over the thing. There's a pencil in hand, however, gently flicking over the page as he works on something or another. It could be the landscape around him, or it could be something out of his head entirely. Occasionally, one hand lifts to push black hair away from his face, eyes darting warily across the field…watching.

Stripping off his riding jacket, J’en has made it past the stable and is now well on his way to that place in Fallen Tree Field that had become his sanctuary the last two turns of his life. He isn’t paying much attention to whoever might be about because he knew the area like the back of his hand, and that included the comings and goings. He felt confident enough in the schedule that this would be a time when no one else would be about, and it would be safe for him to work out more than a little bit of the frustrations that he had had to bury lately. However, golden eyes soon fall upon an invader into his very secret private wood chopping time. The bronzling pauses just a yard or two away from the sketchy sketcher, suddenly at a loss as to what to do as he idly shifts his weight from one foot to the other. A moment’s more hesitation, and his chin comes up automatically, “Ya wanna move?” He asks, just a hint of a growl working its way into his deep tenor. Yeah kid, he had shit to do.

The attack that comes is from behind! Taeski's head turns, steely gray gaze locking onto J'en in a quick moment of intense, alert staring. He relaxes afterward though, expression calming and his grip - white knuckled on his pencil - eases back again. "No, I don't." A soft, quiet tone..but not a timid one. A question was asked and he answered, even if that wasnt../really/ what Jae meant. His fingers work the pencil in his grip, turning it over and back again while he watches J'en. One end taps the paper..then the other, before the teenager's lashes lower, head tipping to the side. For all that he is relaxed, there's a keen attentiveness there, looking over the other teen carefully. "Lots of tree here."

A brow instantly arches for the rebellious reply to his clear statement of immediate removal of the uninvited presence, J’en lingers as his own lashes lower in quiet appraisal, perhaps weighing the benefits or consequences of personally ensuring that he got to have his quiet time. Eventually long and heavy strides accompany his approach and tosses his jacket over the trunk of the fallen tree, “Whatever.” He now full out growls under his breath, hooking fingers under the hem of his black tanktop and quickly pulls it up and over his head. Perfectly honed muscle that dragonriders are known for come into stark realization, moving seamlessly beneath lightly tanned skin. The discarded shirt is tucked into the back of his leather riding pants, before he heads over to the stump with the axe sticking out of it and yanks it free. Without pause, he applies a log to the center of the stump and brings the axe up and over his head, if only to swing downwards cleave the future firewood in two. This was clearly something he had done countless times, and he was apparently going to be ignoring the unwelcomed visitor. No soon is one made two, that they become four and are tossed onto the ground nearby. Without skipping a beat, another full log is gathered, and put into place. Yes, a pattern was developing.

Taeski's attention remains on J'en as the tunic is peeled off. Who wouldn't look, after all? Then the thunking begins of an axe through wood, and the teenager easily turns himself around to face the dragonrider instead. He takes care to rip the page out he's been drawing on…before carelessly dropping the useless page right to the ground. Landscape? Hardly. There's a mangled, eviscerated herdbeast drawn on it. But he seems content enough to change topics, instead starting to draw again while glancing up at J'en now and then. There are a few moments of a lingering gaze, watching the interesting flex of musculature before the pencil moves again, lips quirked into an amused half-smile.

J’en is paying absolutely no attention whatsoever to Taeski, perhaps much more comfortable pretending that the kid wasn’t there than letting it linger in the back of his mind that once again he wasn’t going to have his way. Perhaps he wasn’t intimidating enough to or something, maybe he would have to go ahead and work on that. The dropping of the page with the mangled herdbeast earns only a very momentary glance, hardly phased by the image he likely experienced every single time his lifemate had a meal. Though, as he continues to chop, chop, chop away over there and work up a good sweat, the realization that he was being at least occasionally glanced at begins to raise the heckles at the back of his neck. His swings lose their fluid movements, becoming noticeably distracted, until finally the axe is embedded back into the stump and panting, golden eyes dart over to the other raven haired teen. “Ya mind?” He asks, annoyance slipping into the gruffness of his tone. “I dun like bein’ stared at.”

Such silence would be completely acceptable..if it only lasted. Taeski's drawing pauses when J'en does as well, gaze flicking up to meet with golden eyes briefly before there's a small snort of laughter at the question. "Nope." Once again, the teenager ignores the /intended/ meaning of a question. It's not /his/ fault they keep getting asked. Fingers play again with his pencil though, briefly bringing it up to settle the end between his teeth, chewing lightly before a brow is raised at J'en's own admission. "You'd think you would be used to it." Perhaps a subtle compliment for the rider's looks. Slender shoulders lift in a shrug though, carelessly unfolding his legs to dangle off the log. "Tend to have to look a bit while drawing someone. Helps the whole..realism thing." He shakes his head then, pausing with a suspicious look to the sky as a bronze dragon briefly flies overhead. Whoever it belonged to doesn't seem to be around, at least. His eyes return to J'en again, sliding briefly down to the axe embedded in the wood before flicking back up again. "Weyr needs a lot of firewood, does it?"

Alas, J’en is not the lingering silence kind of person, or perhaps the fact that his sanctuary had been violated was just something that he couldn’t come to ignore for all that long after all. The short burst of nasal laughter has tension rippling along the weyrling’s shoulders visibly, and once again his chin is thrust upwards, combined with a lowering of his lashes. “Ain’t weyrbred I take it.” It wasn’t a question, just a statement of fact. “Most guy riders look more or less like this.” Complement denied and ignored it seems. He falls into silence before he snorts softly and jerks his head towards the image of the eviscerated herdbeast. “Not really into the whole bein’ ripped apart and eaten thin’ personally.” Of course suggesting that his newly drawn portrait was one that would much more closely match in gory detail the example he had already seen of Taeski’s talent, rather than going for genuine realism. The dragon flying overhead is given no attention, though the distraction allows him to relocate his to the small pile of wood he’d managed to build up before being unable to ignore the invader and his staring. “Not really.” He replies, short, sweet and to the point.

"No, I'm not." Taeski has no problem admitting that he isn't used to the Weyr. After all, it's very true. "Staying with a friend of a relative." He continues to play with his drawing utensil, although he does finally slide down from where he'd been sitting on the log. The teenager is…short. There's just no getting around it. Alas, height will never be something he manages to attain. Though there's a faint smile that still peeks at his lips, waggling the drawing pad slightly. "Oh, no, I wouldn't dream of it. I figure you more for the type to be /doing/ the ripping apart. ..Probably not the eating, though." Indeed, if one were to look, there's a sketched log on the stump that he'd been drawing to go with sketch-Jae. There's also faintly drawn instead, a human limb that could possibly replace it, depending on what he darkened and what he erased. He leans down though to retrieve his earlier sketch, nudging it in between two pages still attached.

Was Jae paying much attention to Taeski? Eh, that was debatable. He certainly didn’t have much to say about being weyrbred outside of his random commentary moments ago, and he doesn’t go digging to the artist’s family tree either. It’s only when the other slides to the ground that he gets his undivided attention. Now that they were both standing on level ground, J’en towered at his five foot eleven height over the boy that was perhaps only a turn or two younger than himself. There is a second’s worth of surprise that passes over his features, before it’s smoothed away just in time for Taeski to comment on what he imagined the weyrling's would be more or less likely to be doing. Another blink follows, before his gaze is drawn to the sketch of himself and apparently the limb/log he had been hacking in the stranger’s imagination. However, aside from all the surprise, there is no judgement, no disgust. Perhaps not a rapt interest, but at the very least he wasn’t making for a quick and hasty exit. Not that Tae was particularly intimidating at the moment. While the bronzling didn’t have much to say this go around, it doesn’t stop him from sliding those oddly colored eyes to the backside that is presented so nicely given that leaning.

Quite a bit of good leaning there is, too. Taeski cannot help his own morbid tendencies. And there's nothing at all wrong with capturing them in drawings rather than taking them to the real world. Some could definitely say it's the healthier choice! At least he's off the log though, and measured steps bring him around to the axe embedded in the stump. Fingers briefly reach, just barely touching the handle before they're snatched away again, and the teen gives his head a shake. His expression flickers briefly into a troubled frown, before he leans himself right back against the large tree again to erase a few things on his drawing, namely the bits that look like they're meant to be a human arm. No, no. It is a /log/. After a moment, there's a sideways (and slightly upward) look, grey gaze darting toward J'en quietly. "I've been told it's rude not to introduce I'm Taeski." Intimidating? Not at all. The short teen is attempting to be one with polite society, after all.

J’en seems to catch himself from staring for too long, at least long enough to get caught because by the time that Taeski is righting himself, the weyrling has found something else to look at. Namely that axe in the stump. The fingers of his left hand twitching, as if to display the effort it was taking to keep them from wrapping around the handle and hoisting back up again. He actually startles when the other teen’s voice breaks the silence, seemingly having lost himself to his own thoughts, “Jae.” he says, absently. No way in hell was he giving his rider name, at least not without having his arm twisted up behind his back or a knife at his throat. It was embarrassing enough to have people he knew calling him by that name, without having it tumble from the mouth of complete and decidedly persistently lingering strangers. He may or may not note the touch bestowed upon the handle of the axe and the head shake that follows, but it's probably unlikely that he could glean why the two gestures together should have given him pause. Instead, golden eyes dart to grey and linger there for an uncomfortably long period of time. Almost as if the soon-to-be rider was trying to see as deeply into Taeski’s soul as he could go.

If Taeski is supposed to look away, well, he doesn't. He doesn't seem bothered by the lengthy stretch of eye contact, staring right back at J'en without faltering. The depths of his soul? Probably not something that can be found by looking, no matter how hard one tries. Or maybe there just isn't one at all. The teenager's mouth slowly curves upward again though, laughter giving a faint shake to his shoulders. "Jae. Jae and Tae…" He trails off at least, not lingering /too/ much on the similar sounds of their names. Finally though, after a long moment, he pushes himself away from the log again, tucking the drawing pad under his arm. "Well I'll let you get back to your wood. Coming between a man and his axe never turns out very well." There's still a slight hesitation before he starts moving, but eventually the teen manages to get his feet moving to take him away from the fallen tree.

It probably doesn’t exactly feel like a stare down so much as curiosity, though in what is debatable, Jae’s expression certainly didn’t give it away. To say that the weyrling’s is guarded didn’t describe it effectively, it was more like his thoughts were disguised or rather wrapped in a blanket of evenness. Suffice to say, there is no visible amusement for the similarity in their names, but at least J’en has the decency enough to slide his eyes off elsewhere instead of prying any further than he already had visually. The chin comes down when Taeski seems to be leaving, tension beginning to ease and already he was moving closer to the stump and it’s embedded axe. He gives a nod for the other teen’s words, not seeming to have a plethora of words to add to someone he didn’t know vacating a spot he was very familiar with. Nor is there any farewell or well wishing. Instead, Jae waits until Taeski has vacated enough from the area that he feels comfortable to take up the axe and get back to chopping. Though that soft stifled sob, barely audible just before the stranger disappears over the crest that leads back to the weyr, might just of been his imagination.

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