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!
21.Apr.21, 08:03 AM
N’mor grunted as Rhezalth set down on the ledge, jolted from his thoughts by the dragon’s unusually abrupt landing. As Rhezalth apologised, N’mor patted him absently on the neck before removing the riding straps, flicking at the clasps and winding the leather pieces up before putting them away. Rhezalth sighed, and moved off to curl up with Varralath in exhaustion. N’mor made sure the last of the straps were put away, then made his way into the weyr proper, scrubbing his hand over his face as he went. “Zinnie?” he called curiously, wondering through the main room and not seeing the bluerider. His dragon was home, so he assumed the rider was nearby, but he could have been anywhere. Apparently, that included not being home.
Moving to the bedroom, N’mor kicked off his boots and flopped onto the bed, grunting again as he fell onto his stomach, puffing out a long sigh as he relaxed into the blankets, and quickly fell asleep, though it was light and uneasy. N’mor woke with a start a couple of hours later when the bed shifted, eyes wide for a few moments before Z’rin’s face flittered through his confused and sleepy brain, and N’mor smiled gently at the bluerider, shifting to bat at him half-heartedly in protest. “Where have – you been?” N’mor asked, pausing part way to yawn hugely.
Rolling his shoulders, N’mor shuffled to sit up, tossing a pillow behind his back so he could lean against the headboard of the bed, crossing his legs at the ankles and tilting his head at Z’rin. “I thought this would be a lot less exhausting,” he admitted, waving his hand absently but mostly talking about his recent promotion to Weyr Second. Which he’d always wanted to angle for, but he’d honestly thought it would come after being a Wingsecond, and then a Wingleader. Time to grow and learn more, rather than oh hey, look at all these murders! One of which had been the previous Weyrsecond. N’mor wasn’t stressed about that at all.
N’mor smiled when Z’rin rested his head on N’mor’s lap, running his fingers lightly through the dark locks. “Dad’s doing okay,” he said lightly, since that had been his latest adventure before coming home. “I don’t think he believes anyone about his voice.” Typical B’jin, and his stubbornness. N’mor just worried about what the greenrider would do when he was proven wrong, regardless of how stubborn he was being. At least the pair hadn’t had a fight or something before B’jin was attacked. Knowing his father it had been some sappy moment, which was probably… better? But still gross.
“So,” N’mor said, rolling back to his sleepy question of where Z’rin had been when he’d gotten home “Did you go out for lunch?”
Moving to the bedroom, N’mor kicked off his boots and flopped onto the bed, grunting again as he fell onto his stomach, puffing out a long sigh as he relaxed into the blankets, and quickly fell asleep, though it was light and uneasy. N’mor woke with a start a couple of hours later when the bed shifted, eyes wide for a few moments before Z’rin’s face flittered through his confused and sleepy brain, and N’mor smiled gently at the bluerider, shifting to bat at him half-heartedly in protest. “Where have – you been?” N’mor asked, pausing part way to yawn hugely.
Rolling his shoulders, N’mor shuffled to sit up, tossing a pillow behind his back so he could lean against the headboard of the bed, crossing his legs at the ankles and tilting his head at Z’rin. “I thought this would be a lot less exhausting,” he admitted, waving his hand absently but mostly talking about his recent promotion to Weyr Second. Which he’d always wanted to angle for, but he’d honestly thought it would come after being a Wingsecond, and then a Wingleader. Time to grow and learn more, rather than oh hey, look at all these murders! One of which had been the previous Weyrsecond. N’mor wasn’t stressed about that at all.
N’mor smiled when Z’rin rested his head on N’mor’s lap, running his fingers lightly through the dark locks. “Dad’s doing okay,” he said lightly, since that had been his latest adventure before coming home. “I don’t think he believes anyone about his voice.” Typical B’jin, and his stubbornness. N’mor just worried about what the greenrider would do when he was proven wrong, regardless of how stubborn he was being. At least the pair hadn’t had a fight or something before B’jin was attacked. Knowing his father it had been some sappy moment, which was probably… better? But still gross.
“So,” N’mor said, rolling back to his sleepy question of where Z’rin had been when he’d gotten home “Did you go out for lunch?”
