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!
09.Oct.19, 10:51 AM
Considering that winter was on the horizon, Madiquel was both warm and comfortable. She rather liked Ista, and was sad that she and her Papa hadn’t moved there originally. It was so much more like Katila than Fort was! The sun wasn’t quite as fierce as it was in the mid-summer months, but it was still warm and Madiquel was content with sitting out in it, her back pressed against A’tay’s as he held the big book Vaera had brought her from the Healer Hall. Madiquel, who had gotten used to the constant lessons the Healer Hall dealt out, had found herself somewhat bored between classes in Weyrlinghood. She had no doubt that it would have been more full-on if her dragon had been more regular, but as she wasn’t, Madiquel wasn’t undergoing the usual lessons.
Which left her bored, especially now it was obvious none of the three infants were about to just drop dead or not wake up the next morning or whatever. Which Madiquel had genuinely been afraid of, but was less so now. After promising that she would prioritise any and all Weyrlinghood lessons, Madiquel had gotten permission to low-key continue her studies for the Healer Hall. Nothing fancy, and certainly she wouldn’t be on level with her original classmates, but Vaera had been allowed to bring her heavy tomes upon occasion, and Madiquel dived into them. The current tome was on anatomy – bones and muscles and all that which made up the body. Currently, A’tay was flipping through the opening chapter, picking out bits and forming questions around whatever information he found, so that Madiquel could give the answer.
While they were chatting, Madiquel had let Zezeth wander off to entertain herself, mostly splitting her attention between Xyxyth, whom everyone but Xyxyth and A’tay seemed to realise she was madly in love with (and almost Dyoricath level of possessive of) and her brothers, whom she vastly enjoyed teasing and provoking, especially if it caused them to tussle, or ended with Dyoricath screeching about something. Zezeth, ever careful of Madiquel, always made sure that The Broken One wasn’t around when she teased the blues, because she knew someone’s particularly grating voice would cause the man distress. She figured The Broken One was good enough at blocking out dragons that if he wasn’t in sight, he probably wasn’t within hearing.
With Madiquel doing her learning with A’tay, and the other human halves of the partnerships scattered across the bowl, Zezeth entertained herself by playing with Xyxyth, bouncing around and practicing her attempts to get airborne; mostly she was working to strengthen the muscles. As lanky as Zezeth was growing to be, there was very little of her; she was still little more than skin and bones, all her constant eating appearing to simply fuel her growth, of which she was bolting through and leaving her brothers in her dust. At three months of age, Zezeth was akin to a normal sized green – at least in overall size. Her lack of mass was still concerning, but she otherwise appeared healthy and she was certainly happy enough.
When Zezeth got tired of bouncing and half-gliding with Xyxyth, she would rest by either flopping down on the grass beside the bronze, or by prancing off to tease her brothers, something she took great enjoyment out of. Currently, the two blues were minding their own business, but that very rarely stopped Zezeth from interrupting them. Bounding across the grounds from Xyxyth to where Erebuth and Dyoricath were, Zezeth leapt neatly over the much smaller blue, and tackled Dyoricath, chirping with laughter as they tumbled across the grounds, a rolling tangle of green and blue limbs. Zezeth gave a bugle of success when she pinned Dyoricath down, prancing off him and strutting on her way back to Xyxyth, thoroughly thrilled with her own magnificent defeat of the blue.
Unprepared for retaliation – though, honestly, she should have expected it – Zezeth gave a shriek of indignant outrage when Dyoricath tackled her as she made her way back to Xyxyth, the blue’s momentum sending them toppling and tackling, Zezeth outraged at the attack, hissing and spitting like a wild feline, though her eyes were more the colours of playful entertainment than any real rage.
Madiquel, who had only glanced up at Zezeth’s squawk, rolling her eyes good naturedly and leaning her head back against A’tay’s shoulder as she thought what the answer was for the current question, had any such thoughts of healing completely wiped from her mind with a sudden gasp at the strange stillness that fell over Zezeth; it was far more mental than anything else. Then both Madiquel and Zezeth let loose ear spitting shrieks of pain, the dragonet collapsing under Dyoricath with a spasm of limbs that was echoed by Madiquel as she twitched against A’tay’s back before collapsing against him as he turned around, her face stark white and eyes blown with pain. It felt like an eternity, but it only took the girl a few heartbeats to realise the horrible, awful pain radiating out of her hip wasn’t hers and she clawed anxiously at A’tay in an effort to stand up, clinging to her friend.
“Zezeth!” she shrieked, having absolutely no idea – either of them – how to block out the flow of pain the dragonet was flooding Madiquel with. It hurt so bad! Never having had a worse injury than a sprained ankle, Madiquel was sobbing and had a greenish cast to her face as she let A’tay help her make the way to her dragonet, shoving Xyxyth’s head aside by the nose, and then shoving Dyoricath aside; all she was aware of was that Zezeth was in such pain and everyone was crowding her dragon and she couldn’t get to her. “MOVE!” Madiquel finally screeched, her voice broken by pained sobs and the entire word far more of a foot stomping child’s demand than that of the Healer she was attempting to become.
Collapsing beside her dragonet, her left leg extended awkwardly from the phantom pain, Madiquel cuddled Zezeth’s head as she attempted to sooth her, looking up and seeking out A’tay with wild eyes. “Get Master Verec,” she begged, uncaring if A’tay himself went to fetch the Masterhealer, or ordered someone else to do it. The Journeyman healers were less present now, with the dragonets being healthier and less inclined to die without notice; Madiquel was sure they could or would pop up without question and quite quickly… but she wouldn’t let anyone but Masterhealer Verec near her Zezeth. He was the one that had studied their deceased siblings, and she knew from the hushed gossip Vaera had shared with her that he would be the only one to truly be able to help Zezeth.
Cuddling Zezeth’s head, Madiquel murmured reassurances to her dragonet, and tried to guide them both to having Zezeth block the pain from Madiquel – an effort that was improved when the Weyrlingmaster shoved his way to the inner circle to help guide them. By the time Verec arrived, while Madiquel was tearstained and looked awful, she wasn’t visibly affected by the brunt of Zezeth’s pain.
“It’s dislocated.” She said, trembling.
Which left her bored, especially now it was obvious none of the three infants were about to just drop dead or not wake up the next morning or whatever. Which Madiquel had genuinely been afraid of, but was less so now. After promising that she would prioritise any and all Weyrlinghood lessons, Madiquel had gotten permission to low-key continue her studies for the Healer Hall. Nothing fancy, and certainly she wouldn’t be on level with her original classmates, but Vaera had been allowed to bring her heavy tomes upon occasion, and Madiquel dived into them. The current tome was on anatomy – bones and muscles and all that which made up the body. Currently, A’tay was flipping through the opening chapter, picking out bits and forming questions around whatever information he found, so that Madiquel could give the answer.
While they were chatting, Madiquel had let Zezeth wander off to entertain herself, mostly splitting her attention between Xyxyth, whom everyone but Xyxyth and A’tay seemed to realise she was madly in love with (and almost Dyoricath level of possessive of) and her brothers, whom she vastly enjoyed teasing and provoking, especially if it caused them to tussle, or ended with Dyoricath screeching about something. Zezeth, ever careful of Madiquel, always made sure that The Broken One wasn’t around when she teased the blues, because she knew someone’s particularly grating voice would cause the man distress. She figured The Broken One was good enough at blocking out dragons that if he wasn’t in sight, he probably wasn’t within hearing.
With Madiquel doing her learning with A’tay, and the other human halves of the partnerships scattered across the bowl, Zezeth entertained herself by playing with Xyxyth, bouncing around and practicing her attempts to get airborne; mostly she was working to strengthen the muscles. As lanky as Zezeth was growing to be, there was very little of her; she was still little more than skin and bones, all her constant eating appearing to simply fuel her growth, of which she was bolting through and leaving her brothers in her dust. At three months of age, Zezeth was akin to a normal sized green – at least in overall size. Her lack of mass was still concerning, but she otherwise appeared healthy and she was certainly happy enough.
When Zezeth got tired of bouncing and half-gliding with Xyxyth, she would rest by either flopping down on the grass beside the bronze, or by prancing off to tease her brothers, something she took great enjoyment out of. Currently, the two blues were minding their own business, but that very rarely stopped Zezeth from interrupting them. Bounding across the grounds from Xyxyth to where Erebuth and Dyoricath were, Zezeth leapt neatly over the much smaller blue, and tackled Dyoricath, chirping with laughter as they tumbled across the grounds, a rolling tangle of green and blue limbs. Zezeth gave a bugle of success when she pinned Dyoricath down, prancing off him and strutting on her way back to Xyxyth, thoroughly thrilled with her own magnificent defeat of the blue.
Unprepared for retaliation – though, honestly, she should have expected it – Zezeth gave a shriek of indignant outrage when Dyoricath tackled her as she made her way back to Xyxyth, the blue’s momentum sending them toppling and tackling, Zezeth outraged at the attack, hissing and spitting like a wild feline, though her eyes were more the colours of playful entertainment than any real rage.
Madiquel, who had only glanced up at Zezeth’s squawk, rolling her eyes good naturedly and leaning her head back against A’tay’s shoulder as she thought what the answer was for the current question, had any such thoughts of healing completely wiped from her mind with a sudden gasp at the strange stillness that fell over Zezeth; it was far more mental than anything else. Then both Madiquel and Zezeth let loose ear spitting shrieks of pain, the dragonet collapsing under Dyoricath with a spasm of limbs that was echoed by Madiquel as she twitched against A’tay’s back before collapsing against him as he turned around, her face stark white and eyes blown with pain. It felt like an eternity, but it only took the girl a few heartbeats to realise the horrible, awful pain radiating out of her hip wasn’t hers and she clawed anxiously at A’tay in an effort to stand up, clinging to her friend.
“Zezeth!” she shrieked, having absolutely no idea – either of them – how to block out the flow of pain the dragonet was flooding Madiquel with. It hurt so bad! Never having had a worse injury than a sprained ankle, Madiquel was sobbing and had a greenish cast to her face as she let A’tay help her make the way to her dragonet, shoving Xyxyth’s head aside by the nose, and then shoving Dyoricath aside; all she was aware of was that Zezeth was in such pain and everyone was crowding her dragon and she couldn’t get to her. “MOVE!” Madiquel finally screeched, her voice broken by pained sobs and the entire word far more of a foot stomping child’s demand than that of the Healer she was attempting to become.
Collapsing beside her dragonet, her left leg extended awkwardly from the phantom pain, Madiquel cuddled Zezeth’s head as she attempted to sooth her, looking up and seeking out A’tay with wild eyes. “Get Master Verec,” she begged, uncaring if A’tay himself went to fetch the Masterhealer, or ordered someone else to do it. The Journeyman healers were less present now, with the dragonets being healthier and less inclined to die without notice; Madiquel was sure they could or would pop up without question and quite quickly… but she wouldn’t let anyone but Masterhealer Verec near her Zezeth. He was the one that had studied their deceased siblings, and she knew from the hushed gossip Vaera had shared with her that he would be the only one to truly be able to help Zezeth.
Cuddling Zezeth’s head, Madiquel murmured reassurances to her dragonet, and tried to guide them both to having Zezeth block the pain from Madiquel – an effort that was improved when the Weyrlingmaster shoved his way to the inner circle to help guide them. By the time Verec arrived, while Madiquel was tearstained and looked awful, she wasn’t visibly affected by the brunt of Zezeth’s pain.
“It’s dislocated.” She said, trembling.
