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.Feb.20, 10:13 AM
N’mor startled slightly, hearing the voice beside the fire instead of … he wasn’t really sure where he expected Helyna to be, but finding her curled up by the fire and sewing wasn’t really what he had pictured. N’mor blinked at her, before shrugging one shoulder slightly, uncommonly aware of his stump and pleased it was once more hidden under his clothing. He – as a general rule – didn’t care what people thought about his missing limb, but found himself self-conscious of it at odd times, and with odd people. Such as right then. He ignored the oddity, however, and instead turned back to his pack, making sure his razor was set away where it wouldn’t ruin any clothing, and his clothing was set beside it, not in it, at least until he could determine what else was in it, and what the risk of them being dirtied was. Then he picked the note up that Z’rin had left him, running it absently between his fingers.
Is Zinnie still here? he queried his dragon, despite making his way slowly around the room and to the now cheerful looking fire. At least something in the room was happy with the company it had. N’mor’s lips twitched at the thought, but he frowned when he realised Rhezalth was ignoring him, and threw and irritated look at the wall that separated him from his dragon, knowing the lump of a bronze would sense the expression even if he couldn’t see it and wouldn’t respond to it. Puffing out a soft sigh, N’mor lowered himself gracefully onto the hearthstone, turning his back to the flames so it could warm, and glancing up at Helyna. “And I,” he said simply, in a rather delayed response to her comment. It was an apology, without coming out and saying as much. N’mor didn’t really say words like ‘sorry’ very often; not that he was never apologetic, but he was rather disinclined to put himself at the mercy of others, even if that mercy was just them accepting his apology.
“Flights don’t seem to agree with me,” N’mor said mildly, holding the note Z’rin had written curled under his three fingers, while he used his pointer and thumb to pick at a loose thread in the hem of his loose shirt. “I still have no idea how I ended up here,” he added, smiling wryly, “Though I expect Zinnie will be quite happy to fill me in on all the details when I get home.” While his voice was dry, the affection he felt for Z’rin was clear enough, despite him still picking at the hem of his shirt. Lifting his gaze, his sight fell on the bottle of wine, and his expression brightened noticeably. Shifting his weight forward, he picked up the bottle carefully and examined it; he didn’t take a swig or pour any, simply read the label and then raised an eyebrow at Helyna. “I’d have thought goldriders had access to better wines than this,” N’mor’s expression was serious, but his pale eyes sparkled with amusement as he wiggled the bottle side to side. “This is practically Katilan!” he added, smirking.
He forgot, in the moment, that Helyna had never actually been to Katila, and was unlikely to understand the jab.
Is Zinnie still here? he queried his dragon, despite making his way slowly around the room and to the now cheerful looking fire. At least something in the room was happy with the company it had. N’mor’s lips twitched at the thought, but he frowned when he realised Rhezalth was ignoring him, and threw and irritated look at the wall that separated him from his dragon, knowing the lump of a bronze would sense the expression even if he couldn’t see it and wouldn’t respond to it. Puffing out a soft sigh, N’mor lowered himself gracefully onto the hearthstone, turning his back to the flames so it could warm, and glancing up at Helyna. “And I,” he said simply, in a rather delayed response to her comment. It was an apology, without coming out and saying as much. N’mor didn’t really say words like ‘sorry’ very often; not that he was never apologetic, but he was rather disinclined to put himself at the mercy of others, even if that mercy was just them accepting his apology.
“Flights don’t seem to agree with me,” N’mor said mildly, holding the note Z’rin had written curled under his three fingers, while he used his pointer and thumb to pick at a loose thread in the hem of his loose shirt. “I still have no idea how I ended up here,” he added, smiling wryly, “Though I expect Zinnie will be quite happy to fill me in on all the details when I get home.” While his voice was dry, the affection he felt for Z’rin was clear enough, despite him still picking at the hem of his shirt. Lifting his gaze, his sight fell on the bottle of wine, and his expression brightened noticeably. Shifting his weight forward, he picked up the bottle carefully and examined it; he didn’t take a swig or pour any, simply read the label and then raised an eyebrow at Helyna. “I’d have thought goldriders had access to better wines than this,” N’mor’s expression was serious, but his pale eyes sparkled with amusement as he wiggled the bottle side to side. “This is practically Katilan!” he added, smirking.
He forgot, in the moment, that Helyna had never actually been to Katila, and was unlikely to understand the jab.
