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!
26.Jul.19, 01:24 AM
Misharan was very excited about this Hatching. Casa was his friend, Nerreh was his friend, and it gave him a reason to spend at least a few weeks in Ista with many of his friends. All fantastic! And okay, yeah, the Clutch was pretty tiny and he didn’t have high hopes that he would Impress from this Clutch — the chances were just so low — but there were so many other reasons to be there. Misha smiled at Casa and Nerreh, waving enthusiastically. Once they acknowledged him he gave them a thumbs up. He was being cheery and supportive because the energy at this Touching was awful.
He figured it was Thallyath’s poor mood radiating from her tiny gold body and reaching everyone on the Sands. There was no other reason Candidates would be so morose at a Touching. It was exciting! Baby dragons! Maybe your life mate would be one of them! Got to see friends! Whatever, Misharan would just have to be positive enough for everyone.
As soon as their group was given the go-ahead Misha beelined for one of the eggs and eagerly pressed his hand to the side. And felt nothing. Misharan frowned, pressing a little harder on the shell. Still nothing. A quick glance towards Thallyath confirmed that the gold was sulking and not looking in his direction, and after Misha was mostly sure he wouldn’t be eaten, he gently shoved the egg. Nothing. The fuck? He rapped his knuckles on the shell, trying to get anything from this egg, worried there was no one there to respond. Wait! Misharan leaned in, frowning, trying to reach the faint presence he felt. The dragonet was there, but it was tired. So, so tired. He could feel it reaching for him, scratching at the edges of his consciousness and trying to find something to hold onto, anything. Trying to hold on and pull itself out of sleep, fatigue coloring its entire being as it dragged at him, not strong enough to pull itself out, but maybe strong enough to unintentionally pull Misharan in…
Misha gasped, suddenly coming back to himself, breathing heavily. His chest felt tight and Misharan frowned, confused. What had happened? Had he been holding his breath? A few deep breaths later Misharan decided he was alright, though he was deeply worried for the dragonet. Was it alright? Shaking his head to brush off the last of the tiredness from the egg, Misharan moved over to another one.
That one started off better. The dragonet inside responded immediately to his touch, and for a heartbeat Misharan was relieved. The feeling didn’t last, because this dragonet hurt. Misha only partially successfully suppressed a whimper as pain shot through him, until he couldn’t feel anything else. He’d been mauled at a Hatching the turn before, and this felt kind of like that, except instead of the pain being centered in the lacerations left by dragon claws it was everywhere. Misharan didn’t stay long, pulling his hand back from the shell as if he’d been burned — it felt like he had — and stumbled backwards, his legs deciding they didn’t want to work anymore and they folded, bringing Misharan to sit in the sand. It was hot, but it didn’t hurt as much as the dragonet had.
“What the fuck?” he whispered, looking around at the other Candidates clustered around the eggs, all of whom seemed to be having about as nice of a time as he was. There had to be one egg that wasn’t... like that. At least one. Had to be. Determined, Misharan stood back up and walked over to a third egg. Third time’s the charm, right?
It wasn’t. This egg felt starved, and the emptiness caused it agony. Misha felt sick, stomach roiling in response to the dragonet’s hunger. He’d eaten not that long ago, but he felt a gnawing emptiness, as if he hadn’t eaten in turns, before it transformed into a feeling that he’d eaten but he wasn’t able to digest food, his body was so used to being with nothing. Misharan jerked his hand back, closing his eyes and trying his hardest not to vomit as his stomach tried to figure out what was its own reality and what was the dragonet’s, roiling around uncomfortably. He tasted bile but managed to keep everything down, again letting himself collapse to the ground so he could recover from the intense misery that seemed to be this Clutch.
What the fuck?
He figured it was Thallyath’s poor mood radiating from her tiny gold body and reaching everyone on the Sands. There was no other reason Candidates would be so morose at a Touching. It was exciting! Baby dragons! Maybe your life mate would be one of them! Got to see friends! Whatever, Misharan would just have to be positive enough for everyone.
As soon as their group was given the go-ahead Misha beelined for one of the eggs and eagerly pressed his hand to the side. And felt nothing. Misharan frowned, pressing a little harder on the shell. Still nothing. A quick glance towards Thallyath confirmed that the gold was sulking and not looking in his direction, and after Misha was mostly sure he wouldn’t be eaten, he gently shoved the egg. Nothing. The fuck? He rapped his knuckles on the shell, trying to get anything from this egg, worried there was no one there to respond. Wait! Misharan leaned in, frowning, trying to reach the faint presence he felt. The dragonet was there, but it was tired. So, so tired. He could feel it reaching for him, scratching at the edges of his consciousness and trying to find something to hold onto, anything. Trying to hold on and pull itself out of sleep, fatigue coloring its entire being as it dragged at him, not strong enough to pull itself out, but maybe strong enough to unintentionally pull Misharan in…
Misha gasped, suddenly coming back to himself, breathing heavily. His chest felt tight and Misharan frowned, confused. What had happened? Had he been holding his breath? A few deep breaths later Misharan decided he was alright, though he was deeply worried for the dragonet. Was it alright? Shaking his head to brush off the last of the tiredness from the egg, Misharan moved over to another one.
That one started off better. The dragonet inside responded immediately to his touch, and for a heartbeat Misharan was relieved. The feeling didn’t last, because this dragonet hurt. Misha only partially successfully suppressed a whimper as pain shot through him, until he couldn’t feel anything else. He’d been mauled at a Hatching the turn before, and this felt kind of like that, except instead of the pain being centered in the lacerations left by dragon claws it was everywhere. Misharan didn’t stay long, pulling his hand back from the shell as if he’d been burned — it felt like he had — and stumbled backwards, his legs deciding they didn’t want to work anymore and they folded, bringing Misharan to sit in the sand. It was hot, but it didn’t hurt as much as the dragonet had.
“What the fuck?” he whispered, looking around at the other Candidates clustered around the eggs, all of whom seemed to be having about as nice of a time as he was. There had to be one egg that wasn’t... like that. At least one. Had to be. Determined, Misharan stood back up and walked over to a third egg. Third time’s the charm, right?
It wasn’t. This egg felt starved, and the emptiness caused it agony. Misha felt sick, stomach roiling in response to the dragonet’s hunger. He’d eaten not that long ago, but he felt a gnawing emptiness, as if he hadn’t eaten in turns, before it transformed into a feeling that he’d eaten but he wasn’t able to digest food, his body was so used to being with nothing. Misharan jerked his hand back, closing his eyes and trying his hardest not to vomit as his stomach tried to figure out what was its own reality and what was the dragonet’s, roiling around uncomfortably. He tasted bile but managed to keep everything down, again letting himself collapse to the ground so he could recover from the intense misery that seemed to be this Clutch.
What the fuck?
