Natara sighed. "I've completely given up on any real training for them," she said. "They do their business outside, and they submit to me and Atumra." She shrugged. "I'm probably SUPPOSED to want them to be fierce protectors, but if I wanted everything I was SUPPOSED to want, I'd be some crafter's wife in the Smith Hall, maybe playing a bit with making jewelry, and raising a houseful of brats." She wrinkled her nose. Children were tolerable, if she ever accidentally ended up with one, she'd manage ok, mostly because the kid would spend a fair amount of time in the creche.
Admittedly, it had never occurred to her to get someone to help her train the canines. Or a fancy flitt. How would that even work? "Doesn't the training have to come from the person giving the orders," she asked. "I mean, if I get a fancy flitt, and it's trained to obey you, but ignores me, that's not much better than no training at all."
She nodded along with Shyran's comment about wanting to kill those felines. Even before the organized attacks, Atumra had harbored a healthy dislike for large cats, since an injury from one of the other varieties that predated their bonding. After the rogues and felines began targeting the Weyr, Natara had begun to hate them as much as her bondmate, and she couldn't say that had changed. It was good that Shyran had not done anything stupid when her friend's wher was killed, though. Even the wherhandlers who were more skilled fighters had suffered losses, and Shyran was not a warrior.
"I probably would have been pretty calm about killing any of them," she agreed, "though maybe I would have been upset about it later. And clearly, that was an example of a time when it is useful to capture instead of kill. We know a lot more about them than we would have if the handlers that encountered them had just killed the entire group."