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!
30.Mar.19, 09:56 AM
Casa woke with a start, a lance of terror tearing through her in the split second it took to recognise her location; she was down on the edge of the water, sprawled on a blanket. Originally, she’d been reading a book Azrin had loaned her on herbs that could be used for healing and eating, but must have dozed off in the warm sunshine and the soft coastal breeze. She was pondering what it was that had caused her to wake so suddenly, when she heard Thallyath shifting and glanced towards her dragon. Her soft smile of affection slowly morphed as her face took on an expression of smug satisfaction.
About four days prior, Casa had requested an audience with the Weyrleaders, and informed them with a combination of giddy excitement and seriousness that Thallyath was beginning to take on the shine often referenced in lessons and talk of female dragons being ready to Rise. Once it had been confirmed – Casa had resisted rolling her eyes, but played along with M’ris’ continued assumption that she was dumber than a wher – Casa asked that the bronzes and browns of the other Weyrs be invited to contest. Thallyath was more than a little disgusted at the assumption that a brown would catch her – she was worthy only of the best bronze! – but Casa ignored her. If they wanted the best, they needed a bigger contest than just the small population within Ista.
Now though, as Casa sat up and straightened her clothes, she smiled to herself as she watched her dragon. The glow on her hide was intense under the afternoon sun, and Casa knew, just knew, that the dragon would blood as soon as she woke from her quiet doze. With that thought came Casa’s realisation that to blood, her dragon would need to go back to the Weyr where the herdbeasts were penned. It would be better that way, anyway, because that is where the riders would be. Sighing dramatically to herself, and hoping Thallyath wouldn’t wake until she’d reached the Weyr proper, Casa picked up her blanket, folded it up, collected her book and made her way back towards home.
Perhaps twenty minutes later, Casa had dropped her items off in her personal weyr and made her way to her favourite bathing room, slipping into the bath joyfully even as she felt Thallyath suddenly wake, the ravenous hunger for blood and sex causing Casa to gasp loudly; she hadn’t expected her dragon to feel so intensely; though if she thought about it, she felt strongly, so why wouldn’t her dragon? Thallyath’s bellow of challenge rang out, and Casa smirked to herself as she bounced a little, and then pulled herself up onto the edge of the bathing pool, water coursing off her body as Thallyath dropped like a glowing golden stone into the beast pens.
Despite the talks she’d had, and the lessons that had been designed to prepare her, Casa was still shocked by the fight Thallyath put up, wanting to gorge herself on more than just the blood. Unlike some riders, though, Casa had been bonded to Thallyath for several turns, and while the battle of wills was fierce, the young woman wasn’t the tiny child she’d been when she Impressed, and her command of her gold dragon wasn’t to be trifled with. In the end, Thallyath obeyed, though she snarled and snapped and clawed at the kills. She threw the first carcass at the first dragon to land too close to her, hitting him in the neck and chest, leaving bloody trails.
Casa smiled to herself, enjoying the feelings rolling off Thallyath, but also amused by the snatches of conversation she could hear as dragonriders and weyrfolk alike tried to figure out where she’d secreted herself away. Finishing her bath by pulling herself out of the water, Casa let herself out of the bathing room without so much as a scrap of cloth to cover herself, and walked with her head held high (if her eyes somewhat glassy as Thallyath screeched her challenge once more) as she strode from the bathroom to her weyr, not aware of anyone or anything going on around her as she slipped inside, her wet hair dripping down her back.
With one last scream of rage and lust, Thallyath threw her third beast to the side and sprung into the air, her tiny golden body alive with the light of the evening sun and her eyes a furious set of gems as she snarled and shot through the sky, speeding low across the grazing grounds before suddenly turning almost one-hundred and eighty degrees and rocketing off towards the beach she had so recently been sleeping on.
About four days prior, Casa had requested an audience with the Weyrleaders, and informed them with a combination of giddy excitement and seriousness that Thallyath was beginning to take on the shine often referenced in lessons and talk of female dragons being ready to Rise. Once it had been confirmed – Casa had resisted rolling her eyes, but played along with M’ris’ continued assumption that she was dumber than a wher – Casa asked that the bronzes and browns of the other Weyrs be invited to contest. Thallyath was more than a little disgusted at the assumption that a brown would catch her – she was worthy only of the best bronze! – but Casa ignored her. If they wanted the best, they needed a bigger contest than just the small population within Ista.
Now though, as Casa sat up and straightened her clothes, she smiled to herself as she watched her dragon. The glow on her hide was intense under the afternoon sun, and Casa knew, just knew, that the dragon would blood as soon as she woke from her quiet doze. With that thought came Casa’s realisation that to blood, her dragon would need to go back to the Weyr where the herdbeasts were penned. It would be better that way, anyway, because that is where the riders would be. Sighing dramatically to herself, and hoping Thallyath wouldn’t wake until she’d reached the Weyr proper, Casa picked up her blanket, folded it up, collected her book and made her way back towards home.
Perhaps twenty minutes later, Casa had dropped her items off in her personal weyr and made her way to her favourite bathing room, slipping into the bath joyfully even as she felt Thallyath suddenly wake, the ravenous hunger for blood and sex causing Casa to gasp loudly; she hadn’t expected her dragon to feel so intensely; though if she thought about it, she felt strongly, so why wouldn’t her dragon? Thallyath’s bellow of challenge rang out, and Casa smirked to herself as she bounced a little, and then pulled herself up onto the edge of the bathing pool, water coursing off her body as Thallyath dropped like a glowing golden stone into the beast pens.
Despite the talks she’d had, and the lessons that had been designed to prepare her, Casa was still shocked by the fight Thallyath put up, wanting to gorge herself on more than just the blood. Unlike some riders, though, Casa had been bonded to Thallyath for several turns, and while the battle of wills was fierce, the young woman wasn’t the tiny child she’d been when she Impressed, and her command of her gold dragon wasn’t to be trifled with. In the end, Thallyath obeyed, though she snarled and snapped and clawed at the kills. She threw the first carcass at the first dragon to land too close to her, hitting him in the neck and chest, leaving bloody trails.
Casa smiled to herself, enjoying the feelings rolling off Thallyath, but also amused by the snatches of conversation she could hear as dragonriders and weyrfolk alike tried to figure out where she’d secreted herself away. Finishing her bath by pulling herself out of the water, Casa let herself out of the bathing room without so much as a scrap of cloth to cover herself, and walked with her head held high (if her eyes somewhat glassy as Thallyath screeched her challenge once more) as she strode from the bathroom to her weyr, not aware of anyone or anything going on around her as she slipped inside, her wet hair dripping down her back.
With one last scream of rage and lust, Thallyath threw her third beast to the side and sprung into the air, her tiny golden body alive with the light of the evening sun and her eyes a furious set of gems as she snarled and shot through the sky, speeding low across the grazing grounds before suddenly turning almost one-hundred and eighty degrees and rocketing off towards the beach she had so recently been sleeping on.
