At Peace With The World

Timestamp: Tria 30 81378

With a stretch and a yawn Turrush raised himself from the ground, shook the dust from his ebon coat and sat for a moment, his eyes following the slow wag of his tail, with its flame burning is a slow, contented manner. He then rose to his feet, and lets a whistle cut through the air. He had dozed off with a one of his birds about, and it then came swooping through the air to flutter and land on his shoulders. The little hawk on his shoulder had a wingspan of about 7 inches, and was mottled silver and white with pinion feathers of gold. “Fellian, Tsui." He ordered, smiling slightly.

 

Turrush grinned at the sight of the little with the flitter. Befor paying much more attention to the little Pendragon and it's flitter he decided to make sure his Trisk, who would most likely prefer to eat the little flitter, would stay put. "Fellian, Tsui." Then, he grinned again at the little one. "Hello." He returns the wave.

 

<span style='width:100%;font-weight:bold; font-size:10px'>Out of Character</span>
<table class=ooc><tr><td>Just edit the post. I edited mine to change away from my OOC Confusion. *snicker* You're characters have very similare names.</td></tr></table>

 

Turrush looked a bit sheepish at the compliment. "I've had him for a long time, since he was an egg. My father owned his parents and gave me him as a gift. That was five years ago." He looks at the little purple flitter carefully. "Your flitter is also well trained. I breed them in addition to Trisk, they don't always take well to training."

 

"Turrush." He extends a paw. "In addition to breeding and training, I'm also starting to teach at the Acadamy. Hawking, Vet Medicine, that sort of thing.

 

"Only recently started breeding for more than Trisk food. My females are pretty common, except for Ace, who's Black Collared. But my Real prize is an Albino male. Exceptional little thing, He's wild caught. Only real thing I don't know is what sort of patterns he'll throw. My Red and Yellow are both from breeders. Timber's got Pieball lines, and the Yellow, Cannon, has comes from wild-caught parents who only throw solids." His expression was proud as he spoke, as if these animals were amongst the most improtant things he owned. "I crossed my Ace, the Red, to my Albino Male, Fez, in hopes of Albino offspring. The mating threw Pieball and Mottled, though."

 

"I was hoping to get a few pastels, but it's not to be out of my Red Female. But, I've still got two females left to breed. And I got a nice little Mottled Male out of the first breeding that I plan to keep." He takes a close look at the little flitter with the other Pendragon. "Who knows, maybe we can cross our lines someday. Maybe try for some Pastel Mottles or some such."

 

"So, what are some details on your flock? Anything interesting in it? Aside from your predisposition for Pastels?

 

"Split Pastel. Any idea what patterns they'll throw?"

 

"Solid bloodlines? Sounds like what's in my Feeder Aviary. Alot of color in there, but no real pazzaz." Turrush shook his head. "I'm acctually thinking about starting a club for breeders. So we can hold shows and get together to trade bloodlines and things, would you be intersted?"