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!
06.Sep.18, 11:11 AM
N’mor didn’t like the way T’ryn broke off the kiss, even if he did need to breathe, or the way the other bronzerider put several paces between them. He had kissed him back, though? Had it been instinct and now he was regretting it? Biting his bottom lip, N’mor watched T’ryn carefully, hoping he wasn’t about to be punched in the face. The attempt at humour had N’mor’s lips twitch slightly, but little more as he sighed and shook his head, looking down at the ground as he composed himself; he was almost breathing properly again, at least.
Looking up, N’mor offered an explanation: “Your sister is a meddling snoop.” N’mor said, lips twisting in a mild, crooked smile of amusement, before his face sobered and he held up the letter T’ryn had written; the poor parchment was a little worse for wear after its adventures so far. “I am fairly sure she isn’t quite that good at imitating your handwriting...” Nonetheless, there was still a sudden flurry of discomfort that somehow Mylorah had made the whole thing up; never mind that the words were definitely both how T’ryn spoke, and the writing was clearly his friend’s. N’mor’s expression faltered for a moment, a brief display of his sudden worry, before he smoothed his features.
“You’re an idiot,” N’mor said, quite seriously, though his tone and expression clearly implied the words were aimed as much at himself as they were his friend. “I’m sorry, T. I--” he struggled for a moment to find the right words, and then let his shoulders slump with a sigh. “I’m sorry.” He didn’t know what else to say. How had they so seriously misunderstood each other, when they could usually anticipate what the other was thinking? N’mor’s mouth twisted into what was ridiculously close to a childish pout. “I miss you, too.” Obviously, right? Z’rin had turned out to be great company, (even if they couldn’t screw presently) but he wasn’t T’ryn.
N’mor hesitated for a moment, and then took a cautious half step towards T’ryn, watching his face carefully.
Looking up, N’mor offered an explanation: “Your sister is a meddling snoop.” N’mor said, lips twisting in a mild, crooked smile of amusement, before his face sobered and he held up the letter T’ryn had written; the poor parchment was a little worse for wear after its adventures so far. “I am fairly sure she isn’t quite that good at imitating your handwriting...” Nonetheless, there was still a sudden flurry of discomfort that somehow Mylorah had made the whole thing up; never mind that the words were definitely both how T’ryn spoke, and the writing was clearly his friend’s. N’mor’s expression faltered for a moment, a brief display of his sudden worry, before he smoothed his features.
“You’re an idiot,” N’mor said, quite seriously, though his tone and expression clearly implied the words were aimed as much at himself as they were his friend. “I’m sorry, T. I--” he struggled for a moment to find the right words, and then let his shoulders slump with a sigh. “I’m sorry.” He didn’t know what else to say. How had they so seriously misunderstood each other, when they could usually anticipate what the other was thinking? N’mor’s mouth twisted into what was ridiculously close to a childish pout. “I miss you, too.” Obviously, right? Z’rin had turned out to be great company, (even if they couldn’t screw presently) but he wasn’t T’ryn.
N’mor hesitated for a moment, and then took a cautious half step towards T’ryn, watching his face carefully.
