Hello loves! While I haven't been writing, I have been working on updating some issues that have been hanging around on the layout! The Character change box is now at the bottom of the page, beside the up/down arrows! Green and Gold dragon flight dates have been shifted to the bottom of the page, where the (useless!) discord widget was located. Where the dragon flights were in the header, is now replaced by a Monthly Event box! This will be updated at the start of each month, with a fun mini-event you can take part in, if you want to! Thistle!
05.Apr.14, 01:45 AM
“Son of a whore!” K’tir called out though the words were muffled due to his hands flying up to his face. Given the fact he could still speak, though somewhat slurred from pain, he suspected his jaw wasn’t broken and while his nose hurt as much as the left side of his face, K’tir didn’t think it was broken either. Still, he’d have to get a Healer to check it over for him to make sure. His tongue over every tooth as well to see if any were missing or loose due to R’nya’s lack of sense of humour prompting him to punch at anything he didn’t like.
He watched R’nya walk away, too sore to give any reply in regards to respect. The haughty bronzerider was a contradictory bastard if he thought he could give out such advice after the comments he had already made since the first attempt to leave. No doubt R’nya lacked in manners in other areas as well and didn’t respect someone somewhere, whether it was a greenrider, golden hopeful, or the kitchen staff. The stick up his ass was too deeply planted for the man not to look down on someone.
With a pained sigh through his mouth as breathing seemed to be a bit of challenge, K’tir collected himself from the floor, grabbed his boots again, and staggered for his room. Ghaeth had been stirred into a panic since the punch but K’tir only waved away the hysterics with a simple assurance that he was fine and nothing more would happen. It was just a shame that his son, daughter, and their mothers would fret over him – or glower with disproval – when they saw him. K’tir vowed to make sure they knew exactly who did it since he didn’t see the point in protecting R’nya’s image. R’nya marred his face and now his reputation could carry a smudge.
As he went about hunting for a cloth to dab at his face, K’tir toyed with the idea of changing the story as to why he was punched by the charming bronzerider. He would have smiled at the thought if it didn’t hurt so much.
He watched R’nya walk away, too sore to give any reply in regards to respect. The haughty bronzerider was a contradictory bastard if he thought he could give out such advice after the comments he had already made since the first attempt to leave. No doubt R’nya lacked in manners in other areas as well and didn’t respect someone somewhere, whether it was a greenrider, golden hopeful, or the kitchen staff. The stick up his ass was too deeply planted for the man not to look down on someone.
With a pained sigh through his mouth as breathing seemed to be a bit of challenge, K’tir collected himself from the floor, grabbed his boots again, and staggered for his room. Ghaeth had been stirred into a panic since the punch but K’tir only waved away the hysterics with a simple assurance that he was fine and nothing more would happen. It was just a shame that his son, daughter, and their mothers would fret over him – or glower with disproval – when they saw him. K’tir vowed to make sure they knew exactly who did it since he didn’t see the point in protecting R’nya’s image. R’nya marred his face and now his reputation could carry a smudge.
As he went about hunting for a cloth to dab at his face, K’tir toyed with the idea of changing the story as to why he was punched by the charming bronzerider. He would have smiled at the thought if it didn’t hurt so much.
