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!
25.Aug.18, 11:19 PM
N’mor laughed, deciding not to make a fuss about how Z’rin kept hurting himself by breathing too deeply and obviously aggravating his wounds. Chances were some Healer would overhear N’mor berating him and kick him out, and honestly, he wasn’t ready to leave yet. Instead he squeezed Z’rin’s hand every time the bluerider hissed or froze up in a way that told N’mor he’d hurt himself, and patiently continue the conversation like nothing ha happened.
“Lazy bluerider,” he teased, leaning down to press a kiss to Z’rin’s temple, and then resting his forehead against where he’d dropped the kiss, noticing for the first time how much the bluerider reeked of smoke, and he laughed again. “You need a serious bath,” he grinned, nose scrunching up playfully. “You smell like smoke.” He leaned down again, “I think its mostly stuck in your hair,” he added. Primarily since Z’rin obviously wasn’t wearing his clothing from when he was rescuing wayward children. Then again, who knew how many folks the blankets had been around before they found themselves warming the bluerider.
Carefully detangling his hand from Z’rin’s, N’mor brushed it through the dark hair, laughing softly under his breath when he found sections that were clearly the survivors of fiery attack. “I think you need a haircut!” Threading his fingers through a couple more times, N’mor enjoyed the softness – even if it did reek of fire smoke – before taking Z’rin’s hand once more. “I guess you’ll be staying in Ista for a while,” N’mor said softly, his tone slightly dry. Not that there was much of the Island left, but at least the Weyr and primary Hold hadn’t been damaged! N’mor really didn’t’ want to move again.
“Lazy bluerider,” he teased, leaning down to press a kiss to Z’rin’s temple, and then resting his forehead against where he’d dropped the kiss, noticing for the first time how much the bluerider reeked of smoke, and he laughed again. “You need a serious bath,” he grinned, nose scrunching up playfully. “You smell like smoke.” He leaned down again, “I think its mostly stuck in your hair,” he added. Primarily since Z’rin obviously wasn’t wearing his clothing from when he was rescuing wayward children. Then again, who knew how many folks the blankets had been around before they found themselves warming the bluerider.
Carefully detangling his hand from Z’rin’s, N’mor brushed it through the dark hair, laughing softly under his breath when he found sections that were clearly the survivors of fiery attack. “I think you need a haircut!” Threading his fingers through a couple more times, N’mor enjoyed the softness – even if it did reek of fire smoke – before taking Z’rin’s hand once more. “I guess you’ll be staying in Ista for a while,” N’mor said softly, his tone slightly dry. Not that there was much of the Island left, but at least the Weyr and primary Hold hadn’t been damaged! N’mor really didn’t’ want to move again.
