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!
16.Aug.12, 01:38 AM
Sanderon knew he was in serious trouble. If he tried to escape or just simply disappear for a time, it did not seem to matter which, both were equally frowned upon. With clenched fists at his sides, and a clenched jaw to keep his bitter words silent, the two strong men on each side of him gripped his arms harshly. Being propelled out into the sunshine burned his eyes from having been in a darker environment. He refused to cringe though as he raised his chin in defiance.
With each forced step he was made to take, his urge to break free increased ten-fold. His heartbeat quickened and his adrenaline began to pump through his veins in preparation. In his mental vision a picture of his family as he had seen them last came to give him strength.
'With his brothers' teasing well-wishes and his father's kind words of advice echoing in his ears, Sanderon had headed out for his first solo over-night hunting trip. Along the well-worn trail towards the deep wood he had turned to look back at his humble home. In the yard were his brothers, Arkero and Sarron. Both held encouraging smiles upon their faces. His father, Sandark was behind them with a look of quiet approval. Behind his brothers and father, his mother Eronia stood in the doorway to their stone hut wearing her cooking apron over her dark green simple dress. She was lovely. Sanderon's heart had softened when he had seen her smile. He had given her a wave which she returned.'
Remembering his family during his forced march into and through the crowds did not soften his heart now. If hardened it and gave him the iron-willed stubbornness he needed at this moment. With his jaw and fists clenched and the two strong men gripping each of his arms painfully, he was led closer to the location of his punishment; His unjust torture.
Gathering all the strength he had, he yanked as hard as he could against the two burly men. Kicking up his feet, dodging side to side, bucking forward and backwards... He tried everything. Though he felt he might have come close at one point to breaking their grasp it was not to be. He was pulled forceably upon the platform. Seeing the current Weyrsecond, N'gelt, standing there holding a whip near the two posts with ropes, Sanderon turned his head and with a final growl in his throat and a feral rage in his dark eyes he spit towards N'gelt's face and tried to kick out at the man's stomach. If N'gelt could not breathe, he could not whip him, right?
To those that were gathering to watch, Sanderon paid no heed. They were all against him, he was sure. So they did not matter. Only the here and now mattered and he was fighting mad and determined to inflict as much punishment against them as he himself was about to get. With the help of a third man who had come up behind and around them, his wrists were pulled up one by one and tied tight with each of the ropes tied to the two posts there. His skin burned and so did his rage as he tried again to kick out at those that now let his arms go. Yanking against the ropes that held him fast, only caused the ropes to tighten painfully. Stopping all movement he stood there with feet wide apart, jaw clenched and his eyes defiantly glaring, and tried to catch his breath. His stance and expression now might possibly cause some to think of a feral animal; one that could not be tamed. Oh but he was so much more than that. Sanderon used to be happy. He used to be a person that was loved and respected once. But now... now he was nothing but an object of scorn. Something to be beaten into submission.
With each forced step he was made to take, his urge to break free increased ten-fold. His heartbeat quickened and his adrenaline began to pump through his veins in preparation. In his mental vision a picture of his family as he had seen them last came to give him strength.
'With his brothers' teasing well-wishes and his father's kind words of advice echoing in his ears, Sanderon had headed out for his first solo over-night hunting trip. Along the well-worn trail towards the deep wood he had turned to look back at his humble home. In the yard were his brothers, Arkero and Sarron. Both held encouraging smiles upon their faces. His father, Sandark was behind them with a look of quiet approval. Behind his brothers and father, his mother Eronia stood in the doorway to their stone hut wearing her cooking apron over her dark green simple dress. She was lovely. Sanderon's heart had softened when he had seen her smile. He had given her a wave which she returned.'
Remembering his family during his forced march into and through the crowds did not soften his heart now. If hardened it and gave him the iron-willed stubbornness he needed at this moment. With his jaw and fists clenched and the two strong men gripping each of his arms painfully, he was led closer to the location of his punishment; His unjust torture.
Gathering all the strength he had, he yanked as hard as he could against the two burly men. Kicking up his feet, dodging side to side, bucking forward and backwards... He tried everything. Though he felt he might have come close at one point to breaking their grasp it was not to be. He was pulled forceably upon the platform. Seeing the current Weyrsecond, N'gelt, standing there holding a whip near the two posts with ropes, Sanderon turned his head and with a final growl in his throat and a feral rage in his dark eyes he spit towards N'gelt's face and tried to kick out at the man's stomach. If N'gelt could not breathe, he could not whip him, right?
To those that were gathering to watch, Sanderon paid no heed. They were all against him, he was sure. So they did not matter. Only the here and now mattered and he was fighting mad and determined to inflict as much punishment against them as he himself was about to get. With the help of a third man who had come up behind and around them, his wrists were pulled up one by one and tied tight with each of the ropes tied to the two posts there. His skin burned and so did his rage as he tried again to kick out at those that now let his arms go. Yanking against the ropes that held him fast, only caused the ropes to tighten painfully. Stopping all movement he stood there with feet wide apart, jaw clenched and his eyes defiantly glaring, and tried to catch his breath. His stance and expression now might possibly cause some to think of a feral animal; one that could not be tamed. Oh but he was so much more than that. Sanderon used to be happy. He used to be a person that was loved and respected once. But now... now he was nothing but an object of scorn. Something to be beaten into submission.
