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, 02:14 AM
As if Mylorah would miss this clutch!
One of her best friends' dragon was the clutch mother and she didn't care if a blue had won the Flight--even if she thought it was a bit weird but they were both tiny and agile dragons so whatever--especially since the blue was ridden by another friend. Mylorah wasn't really one to follow the crowd either so when people started dropping out of the Touching and Hatching for whatever dick reason, she proudly said she would still Stand and skipped her way in with the rest of her class. Thallyath's mood seemed to dampen the spirits of most of her classmates but Mylorah kept her smile on, waving at Nerreh and Casa, and encouraging a couple of people around her to lighten up with nudges and faces since talking was frowned upon.
When her little group was given the go ahead, Mylorah stepped forward, going to the egg that was closest to her. Honestly, growing up around Hatchings and being a part of several, she knew the ritual was pointless. It didn't guarantee anything but it did make people more aware of what the personalities coming out might be like. She also felt it was just some very old tradition that now brought comfort to the old riders that needed something to cling to after surviving the plague. All that said, she still always followed the rules since that was the only way she'd be allowed to Stand at the Hatching. So, she placed her hand on the shell, hoping to have a quiet reflection with the little guy or gal inside.
She gasped as she felt a startled presence surround her. The dragonet, so close to being ready to join the world but was afraid of that prospect. The fear it projected started pounding against her head, her entire being, and suddenly all she could hear was the roar of the landslide on that horrible night that took her mother, brother, and so many others. She could smell the mud, debris, and blood, taste the mud as she crawled her way out of the hut she had been in that thankfully hadn't been immediately crushed or swept away. She couldn't breathe, remembering the feel of the mud around her and the fear and heartache of that night and the following ones for weeks.
Mylorah was gasping, a hand clutching at her throat and it wasn't until she released the hand from the egg to join at clawing her throat that she felt the emotions lessen and her breath returning. She was panting and taking small steps away from the egg while doing her best not to hyperventilate or scream from the memories she was drowning in.
Unfortunately, she wasn't paying attention to which direction she was backing up and Mylorah soon found herself bumping into another egg, her hand going behind her to balance herself, making full proper contact with the shell.
This time, the dragonet surprised her and the fear coming from the little beast is a stampeding herd of beasts. The pressure of it against her skull caused her free hand to go from throat to head, worried that it was about to explode. The image of her brain melting out of her ears became more and more vivid the longer contact remained and she was certain her nose was now broken and bleeding.
Both hands were now on her face and head, examining all the imagined wounds that still felt real upon breaking the contact from the horrible little beast. She couldn't shake the idea that she was bleeding profusely with her head about to crack open. Combined with the memories of the landslide still running through her head, Mylorah was confused and lost in time, gaze distant as she starred at things that weren't there.
And then she started screaming as she held both sides of her head as if keeping it together.
One of her best friends' dragon was the clutch mother and she didn't care if a blue had won the Flight--even if she thought it was a bit weird but they were both tiny and agile dragons so whatever--especially since the blue was ridden by another friend. Mylorah wasn't really one to follow the crowd either so when people started dropping out of the Touching and Hatching for whatever dick reason, she proudly said she would still Stand and skipped her way in with the rest of her class. Thallyath's mood seemed to dampen the spirits of most of her classmates but Mylorah kept her smile on, waving at Nerreh and Casa, and encouraging a couple of people around her to lighten up with nudges and faces since talking was frowned upon.
When her little group was given the go ahead, Mylorah stepped forward, going to the egg that was closest to her. Honestly, growing up around Hatchings and being a part of several, she knew the ritual was pointless. It didn't guarantee anything but it did make people more aware of what the personalities coming out might be like. She also felt it was just some very old tradition that now brought comfort to the old riders that needed something to cling to after surviving the plague. All that said, she still always followed the rules since that was the only way she'd be allowed to Stand at the Hatching. So, she placed her hand on the shell, hoping to have a quiet reflection with the little guy or gal inside.
She gasped as she felt a startled presence surround her. The dragonet, so close to being ready to join the world but was afraid of that prospect. The fear it projected started pounding against her head, her entire being, and suddenly all she could hear was the roar of the landslide on that horrible night that took her mother, brother, and so many others. She could smell the mud, debris, and blood, taste the mud as she crawled her way out of the hut she had been in that thankfully hadn't been immediately crushed or swept away. She couldn't breathe, remembering the feel of the mud around her and the fear and heartache of that night and the following ones for weeks.
Mylorah was gasping, a hand clutching at her throat and it wasn't until she released the hand from the egg to join at clawing her throat that she felt the emotions lessen and her breath returning. She was panting and taking small steps away from the egg while doing her best not to hyperventilate or scream from the memories she was drowning in.
Unfortunately, she wasn't paying attention to which direction she was backing up and Mylorah soon found herself bumping into another egg, her hand going behind her to balance herself, making full proper contact with the shell.
This time, the dragonet surprised her and the fear coming from the little beast is a stampeding herd of beasts. The pressure of it against her skull caused her free hand to go from throat to head, worried that it was about to explode. The image of her brain melting out of her ears became more and more vivid the longer contact remained and she was certain her nose was now broken and bleeding.
Both hands were now on her face and head, examining all the imagined wounds that still felt real upon breaking the contact from the horrible little beast. She couldn't shake the idea that she was bleeding profusely with her head about to crack open. Combined with the memories of the landslide still running through her head, Mylorah was confused and lost in time, gaze distant as she starred at things that weren't there.
And then she started screaming as she held both sides of her head as if keeping it together.
