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!
17.Apr.19, 03:45 AM
Faxxonth was having a terrific time with this whole Flight business. He’d never had to put this much effort into flying before, and it was fun. Every time a bronze or brown dropped back and abandoned the chase Faxxonth felt deeply smug. He was outflying bronzes. It didn’t matter that he’d started falling back himself after a while — Faxxonth was a talented flyer, but he was blue, and he was young. He hadn’t given up, which meant he was still better than they were; a better flyer, cleverer, more determined. Hah.
But, still, he was getting tired. The few blues left were all flagging — bronzes may have been bad at compensating for Thallyath’s agility, but they didn’t tire as fast. The browns seemed to be doing the best, more agile than the bronzes but more endurance than the blues, much to Faxxonth’s annoyance. He found most browns exceedingly dull and on principle the idea of a brown catching pretty, pretty Thallyath was distasteful. Faxxonth didn’t really anticipate winning himself — he was just here to show off, have fun, and maybe convince a few dragons and people he was blue. Didn’t mean he thought a brown should win. One of them had tried to claw him earlier in the Flight (Faxxonth had, of course, neatly dodged the swipe), because apparently browns thought the way to win wasn’t skill it was brute force and smacking the competition out of the sky. Bah. No, Thallyath was worthy of better than that. Maybe there was still a decent bronze out there? Oooh, or maybe one of the blues! That would be cool!
He wasn’t thinking of winning when Thallyath decided she was done. By then Faxxonth had fallen to the back, too prideful to give up but not capable of leading the pack of chasers. Faxxonth backwinged as the dragons in front of him stalled in confusion, avoiding the tangle of wings. A few of them bumped into each other, screeching in anger at their neighbor who dared damage their chances of winning. Imbeciles. If a little nudge was going to ruin their chances, they had none to begin with —at least according to Faxxonth’s youthful sense of superiority.
Overconfidence of his age aside, Faxxonth turned out to be well positioned when Thallyath plowed her way through her suitors. The browns and bronzes at the front of the pack got the brunt of her dive, and none of them were quick enough to grab her as she went by. Most of them were mildly stunned, either from having to beat a hasty retreat or surprise at the sudden dive, and while the others nearby floundered, Faxxonth acted on instinct, launching himself forward, taking advantage of the obvious opening the other dragons were making, not planning, just acting, and suddenly he was colliding with another dragon and oh, that wasn’t another dumb brown, that was Thallyath. He had caught her. He, Faxxonth, green-turned-blue Faxxonth, had caught a gold dragon.
He really hadn’t thought this through, had he?
Ah well. He could think later. At the moment, he had a gold dragon.
But, still, he was getting tired. The few blues left were all flagging — bronzes may have been bad at compensating for Thallyath’s agility, but they didn’t tire as fast. The browns seemed to be doing the best, more agile than the bronzes but more endurance than the blues, much to Faxxonth’s annoyance. He found most browns exceedingly dull and on principle the idea of a brown catching pretty, pretty Thallyath was distasteful. Faxxonth didn’t really anticipate winning himself — he was just here to show off, have fun, and maybe convince a few dragons and people he was blue. Didn’t mean he thought a brown should win. One of them had tried to claw him earlier in the Flight (Faxxonth had, of course, neatly dodged the swipe), because apparently browns thought the way to win wasn’t skill it was brute force and smacking the competition out of the sky. Bah. No, Thallyath was worthy of better than that. Maybe there was still a decent bronze out there? Oooh, or maybe one of the blues! That would be cool!
He wasn’t thinking of winning when Thallyath decided she was done. By then Faxxonth had fallen to the back, too prideful to give up but not capable of leading the pack of chasers. Faxxonth backwinged as the dragons in front of him stalled in confusion, avoiding the tangle of wings. A few of them bumped into each other, screeching in anger at their neighbor who dared damage their chances of winning. Imbeciles. If a little nudge was going to ruin their chances, they had none to begin with —at least according to Faxxonth’s youthful sense of superiority.
Overconfidence of his age aside, Faxxonth turned out to be well positioned when Thallyath plowed her way through her suitors. The browns and bronzes at the front of the pack got the brunt of her dive, and none of them were quick enough to grab her as she went by. Most of them were mildly stunned, either from having to beat a hasty retreat or surprise at the sudden dive, and while the others nearby floundered, Faxxonth acted on instinct, launching himself forward, taking advantage of the obvious opening the other dragons were making, not planning, just acting, and suddenly he was colliding with another dragon and oh, that wasn’t another dumb brown, that was Thallyath. He had caught her. He, Faxxonth, green-turned-blue Faxxonth, had caught a gold dragon.
He really hadn’t thought this through, had he?
Ah well. He could think later. At the moment, he had a gold dragon.
