Usually R'tal attempted to keep Tyren at least vaguely close in the Weyr, conscious a wher bounding through narrow corridors could easily upset people.
But they were out miles from anywhere with forests full of good hunting to explore. It would have felt unfair if he *hadn't* freed the wher to go exploring. And Tyren bounded off delightedly, off in a world of fascinating smells, even as R'tal went to volunteer for more work-like things.
One of the fascinating smells had been a plant, and Tyren had -- for reasons he did not himself understand -- much enjoyed rolling over and over in it, crushing it beneath him.
He jumped up quickly at footsteps nearby, ready to greet whoever it was. ((HELLO,)) he offered, volume and enthusiasm making it a rather deafening shout.
Blackadder: I mean, what about the people that do all the work?
Baldrick: The servants.
Blackadder: No, me; *I'm* the people who do all the work.