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!
01.Aug.19, 03:10 PM
Beckitt cleared away the remains of supper quickly, eager to get back to the barracks for his notebook. He had collected several new songs at the Gather a few days ago, and hoped to share them with J’shom if the green rider was around.
Unlike his joking with Vess at the gather he hadn’t actually collected any bawdy songs, just interesting melodies they could mess with harmonies for. They did this every now and then when J’shom couldn’t make it to a gather or other event; he’d learned Kitt’s knack for music several years ago in Katilia and taught him better ways to memorize them and how to write down lyrics and notes in a shorthand common to Harpers.
If he’d been younger when the riders came north Beckitt might have begged to apprentice with the Harpers—if they would even take a weyrbrat back then, given the tensions between Weyr and Craft. But he hadn’t been, and this was likely the closest he would come to such training. He soaked music up like a sponge, and didn’t complain about it like some of his year mates had. He had been fascinated by the Harpers, spending as much time around them all as they would allow, finding some—like J’shom—more tolerant of the behavior than others.
Humming, he grabbed his book and quickly made his excuses to his friends; there was only so much free time, after all, and he didn’t want to waste a minute of it. Walking quickly but carefully—mindful of the recent reprimands about his rushing around everywhere all the time—he knocked and waited.
Unlike his joking with Vess at the gather he hadn’t actually collected any bawdy songs, just interesting melodies they could mess with harmonies for. They did this every now and then when J’shom couldn’t make it to a gather or other event; he’d learned Kitt’s knack for music several years ago in Katilia and taught him better ways to memorize them and how to write down lyrics and notes in a shorthand common to Harpers.
If he’d been younger when the riders came north Beckitt might have begged to apprentice with the Harpers—if they would even take a weyrbrat back then, given the tensions between Weyr and Craft. But he hadn’t been, and this was likely the closest he would come to such training. He soaked music up like a sponge, and didn’t complain about it like some of his year mates had. He had been fascinated by the Harpers, spending as much time around them all as they would allow, finding some—like J’shom—more tolerant of the behavior than others.
Humming, he grabbed his book and quickly made his excuses to his friends; there was only so much free time, after all, and he didn’t want to waste a minute of it. Walking quickly but carefully—mindful of the recent reprimands about his rushing around everywhere all the time—he knocked and waited.
