[ sam feels himself nodding, which is his way of saying oh yeah, definitely not a surprise. he can hear the affection in her words, and he recognizes it well enough. he sounds very similar whenever he talkes about red, so it does make sense. the stairs appear and sam follows hilda up the winding steps, up and up as the sound and smells start to become much stronger.
he takes it all in as they walk, the feeding room and the supplies and the pieces of meat. carnivore, then, which...sam reminds himself exactly what it is they're doing. what he's about to do. flying has always been one thing, but riding what is basically a dragon. whatever nerves might show themselves, sam pushes away quickly enough as he slips on the gloves and takes the equipment, the tongs and the meat, and once again he can't quite escape how...not strange this is, but just how out of his element. ]
Right; eye contact and a meaty snack. Got it.
[ there is no sarcasm in his tone, despite the slight urge he has. this isn't really a time for it, so sam focuses on matching hilda's body language, her general state. when she opens the door and leads him inside, he follows only a step or two behind. he follows the circular walls of the room, seeing the nests and the plates with names and the...well. the wyverns.
the innate curiosity sam has makes him want to hover, to really get to know each one. he knows he can't, and instead he keeps pace with hilda, keeping his own energy calm and casual as he goes ahead and sticks the tongs into the bucket as he walks behind her.
he decides not to try and talk to waffles quite yet, trusting hilda and her control over the creature enough that he doesn't even feel all that intimidated by the growl. when he's almost close enough, sam offers up one of the pieces of meat, coming to a slow stop and meeting waffles eyes in one easy motion. ]
Hey, boy...hungry?
[ ( sam's never actually been attacked in the horizon. that survival-voice in the far back corners of his mind wonder if this is when he's going to find out. ) ]
no subject
he takes it all in as they walk, the feeding room and the supplies and the pieces of meat. carnivore, then, which...sam reminds himself exactly what it is they're doing. what he's about to do. flying has always been one thing, but riding what is basically a dragon. whatever nerves might show themselves, sam pushes away quickly enough as he slips on the gloves and takes the equipment, the tongs and the meat, and once again he can't quite escape how...not strange this is, but just how out of his element. ]
Right; eye contact and a meaty snack. Got it.
[ there is no sarcasm in his tone, despite the slight urge he has. this isn't really a time for it, so sam focuses on matching hilda's body language, her general state. when she opens the door and leads him inside, he follows only a step or two behind. he follows the circular walls of the room, seeing the nests and the plates with names and the...well. the wyverns.
the innate curiosity sam has makes him want to hover, to really get to know each one. he knows he can't, and instead he keeps pace with hilda, keeping his own energy calm and casual as he goes ahead and sticks the tongs into the bucket as he walks behind her.
he decides not to try and talk to waffles quite yet, trusting hilda and her control over the creature enough that he doesn't even feel all that intimidated by the growl. when he's almost close enough, sam offers up one of the pieces of meat, coming to a slow stop and meeting waffles eyes in one easy motion. ]
Hey, boy...hungry?
[ ( sam's never actually been attacked in the horizon. that survival-voice in the far back corners of his mind wonder if this is when he's going to find out. ) ]