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!
18.Dec.17, 03:04 PM
He had been at Fort Weyr for two years, learning a lot, and noticing even more. He was the quiet outcast at first so he had a lot of time to simply watch everyone and overhear conversations he wasn’t a part of. Even after he was accepted by a group of friends and felt like he belonged, Quinvalis was still oftentimes quiet and listening in on what was going on around him. He felt it was the best way to avoid trouble and learn the true workings of the Weyr.
One of the biggest things he learned was that the dragonless ex-riders made almost everyone nervous in one way or another. Some of the men and women who lost their dragons in the plague or other ways had moments of angry outbursts or panicked when they relived the moment the dragon died. Some people didn’t know what to say to them and saw them as outcasts and even failures. It sadly wasn’t a rare thing to hear whispers that the rider should have died with the dragon as they were meant to or that it was cowardly to continue living. It all made Quinvalis rather upset and he sometimes wondered if he was supposed to die then as well. Why continue living if people thought you were weird or shouldn’t be here because the one person or dragon that owned half your heart and soul was gone? He’d been told all his life by his mother that he was wonderful and meant for great things but when family took everything away and saw you as competition or a roadblock on the way to greatness themselves, it was hard to believe in such things.
He felt connected with the dragonless, but Quinvalis had to admit that they scared him at times as well. It was hard to know what mood they’d be in, especially Jajojin, though he was learning how to view the man thanks to his daughter, Madiquel. Wenon, though, always seemed lonely to him. He couldn’t say for certain if she actually was but she always seemed distant from others and held herself to such a high professional standard that Quinvalis wondered if anyone dared to breach the walls and try to have a casual conversation or dinner with her.
It was why, on the last trip home via R’nya, he had asked his mom if he could take some of their famous stew back to the Weyr with him. He had also spent nearly an hour shopping for the ex-WeyrWoman which proved to be a challenge since he didn’t know anything about her or what she might like. He figured it would be rude to get her something with dragons and didn’t know if she liked art. In the end he bought a scarf with rich colours that reminded him of the autumn.
By the time they returned to the Weyr, Quinvalis debated going to see Wenon now or in the morning but figured someone else might eat the stew before he had a chance to give it to her. He went to the kitchen and asked one of the few remaining staff if he could quickly heat it up since the brief trip between had chilled it.
Once the stew was ready, Quinvalis double checked that he still had the scarf in his pack he had travelled with and made his way to Wenon’s weyr. Everyone seemed to know where the dragonless lived to help avoid them, but Wenon and Jajojin were even easier to track down since they were the mentors for R’nya and Rhaedalyn and he helped both leaders sometimes with writing notes or running errands.
Outside her door, Quinvalis gave a knock, waited a few seconds, then called out, “Ms Wenon? It’s Quinvalis. It’s nothing urgent though!” He hastily tacked that on, worried she might think Rhaedalyn had need of her and sent him as messenger.
One of the biggest things he learned was that the dragonless ex-riders made almost everyone nervous in one way or another. Some of the men and women who lost their dragons in the plague or other ways had moments of angry outbursts or panicked when they relived the moment the dragon died. Some people didn’t know what to say to them and saw them as outcasts and even failures. It sadly wasn’t a rare thing to hear whispers that the rider should have died with the dragon as they were meant to or that it was cowardly to continue living. It all made Quinvalis rather upset and he sometimes wondered if he was supposed to die then as well. Why continue living if people thought you were weird or shouldn’t be here because the one person or dragon that owned half your heart and soul was gone? He’d been told all his life by his mother that he was wonderful and meant for great things but when family took everything away and saw you as competition or a roadblock on the way to greatness themselves, it was hard to believe in such things.
He felt connected with the dragonless, but Quinvalis had to admit that they scared him at times as well. It was hard to know what mood they’d be in, especially Jajojin, though he was learning how to view the man thanks to his daughter, Madiquel. Wenon, though, always seemed lonely to him. He couldn’t say for certain if she actually was but she always seemed distant from others and held herself to such a high professional standard that Quinvalis wondered if anyone dared to breach the walls and try to have a casual conversation or dinner with her.
It was why, on the last trip home via R’nya, he had asked his mom if he could take some of their famous stew back to the Weyr with him. He had also spent nearly an hour shopping for the ex-WeyrWoman which proved to be a challenge since he didn’t know anything about her or what she might like. He figured it would be rude to get her something with dragons and didn’t know if she liked art. In the end he bought a scarf with rich colours that reminded him of the autumn.
By the time they returned to the Weyr, Quinvalis debated going to see Wenon now or in the morning but figured someone else might eat the stew before he had a chance to give it to her. He went to the kitchen and asked one of the few remaining staff if he could quickly heat it up since the brief trip between had chilled it.
Once the stew was ready, Quinvalis double checked that he still had the scarf in his pack he had travelled with and made his way to Wenon’s weyr. Everyone seemed to know where the dragonless lived to help avoid them, but Wenon and Jajojin were even easier to track down since they were the mentors for R’nya and Rhaedalyn and he helped both leaders sometimes with writing notes or running errands.
Outside her door, Quinvalis gave a knock, waited a few seconds, then called out, “Ms Wenon? It’s Quinvalis. It’s nothing urgent though!” He hastily tacked that on, worried she might think Rhaedalyn had need of her and sent him as messenger.
