His strides were long, but unhurried, his toxic gaze scanning the gentle landscape with calm alertness. This first venture--for either of his charges, he assumed--into Pegasus had potential for teaching, and so Vargas--ever the Overseer at heart--offered up a lesson.
They were in no hurry, in any case. This cave of fields, forest and--ugh--flowers, was a safe enough place to learn, so long as they avoided the oversized deer, here.
Vedette remained at the edge of the tunnel for a solid minute, staring at the grass in front of her feet. She touched it gently and reeled her hand back as if burned. What the hell was this?
She touched it again and took a slow step forward, not paying attention to Vargas as she took another step forward, and another. She looked up, squinting in the bright light, her eyes widening. Her jaws dropped and she froze, eyes darting about.
This was what Twobutt had been talking about. Endless green, a ceiling so high she doubted she could fly to it, and flowers, so many flowers.
Vedette raced forward and flung herself into the grass, rolling down a hill and squealing the entire way. She popped her head up and snuffled in the long strands, pupils wide and tail wiggling behind her. A beetle was snapped up and she picked a flower, inspecting it before crushing it. She started to vibrate and started smushing all the flowers she could find, cackling madly.
She snapped up bugs left and right as she went, eating up beetles and worms and friggin' everything. She was a garbage disposal and even had a few bites of grass before starting to eat everything in site. vargas had unleashed a monster.
Vargas grunted, half-sour, half-amused.
There no chance of teaching them, just yet; the one was too lost in itself, over-stimulated by its new environment. The other didn't quite, he guessed, understand what he was saying.
He spent some time lifting his head, looking around, sniffing; ensuring that nothing dangerous would come too close, that his young creations would be safe beneath his watch. Let them tear up the grass, so long as it was not too much; it would hardly compare to the periodic digging of the local wildlife, in any case.
He glanced at Vjira, after a time--lying in the grass--and wondered if she might be hungry, despite her ignorance as to how to obtain food. Vargas turned, then, using his great height and his senses to search for any old Lesser remains--bones, hide, anything along those lines. Anything he could show her, to give her the spark of hunger--an explanation for her with something other than simple words. Perhaps he could speak more clearly to her instincts.
After a bit of searching he found a couple old bird bones half-buried in the dirt--by scent, of course; he dug them out and picked them up. He inspected them, and grunted again. They didn't smell very strong; they were dirty, older, but the faint scent of carrion was on them nonetheless.
He carried them back to Vjira, and laid them before her.
Or was she too busy basking in the scent of foliage?
Vedette had a bunch of worms in one hand and crumpled flowers in the other, in the process of stuffing both in her face before she saw it.
The rabbit.
It was green like the rest of the foliage around, blending in as it stood sentry for a moment, alarmed by the distant commotion. It lowered itself down to keep foraging after a moment, unaware of the red eyes that had locked onto it.
Vedette lowered herself onto her belly and crept through the grass, her tail wiggling in excitement. She stopped when the rabbit perked to attention again, aching to just run out and pounce on the stupid thing. It was the most restraint she'd ever shown like... ever.
The mini valkhound barely managed to keep still the rest of the way, peering through the grass, so close she could taste it. She leapt forward and tackled the rabbit that was practically the size of her, rolling around in the dirt, her quills digging into it when her claws failed, paralyzing it. She grabbed it by the throat and shook it like a terrier, growling and snapping its neck in a few short movements.
Once it was limp she dragged it back, her tail swishing back and forth as she struggled with it, tripping a few times before dropping it in front of Vargas, standing on all four feet in a slightly spread out stance, quills on end. She grinned, teeth bloody, and let out a bark of laughter.
Vargas didn't think about himself all that often, but he did like to think of himself as fair. Where he punished disobedience, he praised accomplishment: and his surprise, and approval, upon spotting the Agate's stalking was not forced in any way. He paused, watching her, observing the way she was stalking--hidden even from him, periodically, in the long grass. He almost didn't notice Vjira starting to slink off, to follow the scent; when he did notice, he offered quiet praise
But his gaze trailed back to Vedette; and when she leapt he took note that it was the pounce of a killer. Almost cat-like, in fact, and perfect for what he'd made her for. In an instant his estimation of her ticked up quite a high notch, and a sort of relief struck him; perhaps Dhracia would approve of this one after all, or of its successor, at least.
When the Agate came bouncing back--or more accurately, dragging the thing--his approval was enthusiastic and unrestrained. (No one could ever accuse Vargas of doing things in half-measure.)
He looked back toward Vjira, carefully following the scent--had she noticed the rabbit, or Agate's hunt? he wasn't sure. But he gave her his focus, too, and nodded again.
She liked this feeling. Almost as much as she liked tormenting things. Praise was good and her chest puffed out as a result, her tail wagging behind her as she ran around her dead rabbit like a dog let out for morning zoomies.
Vedette was like a blender, snapping up meat, bones, and organs, all of it finding its way down her gullet or on her face. She was a great hunter but not the best eater, apparently. By the end of her whirlwind the rabbit was strewn across the grass, pulverized, her quills covered in fur and blood, an intestine tangled around the nubs of her horns.
Once she was satisfied she hobbled after the two of them, red eyes alight as she eyed Vargas' tail, tempted to jump at it and maybe see if she could bite it. But alas, she doubted she could reach, and she wasn't too keen on ruining the feeling of success.
She flashed a toothy (and bloody) grin,
Her eyes flicked to the side, pupils widening like a cat's as she watched a red butterfly flutter past, her butt wiggling before she chased after it, perfectly content to be covered in guts and gore as she played around like a child.
That was Vedette for you.