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, 08:55 AM
Lymsleia pushed her way to the front. A Lashing? A stupid lashing? Fortrying to go home. She breathed deeply. The Weyrleader it seemed had caled tem to assemble and so they had. Her own marks now long healed seemed to itch. She clutched her healer's bag, she could feel herself trembling. She wanted to strike the Weyrleader- lashing would bring them down not band them together She felt her lips tremble.
She strode towards the front. What was she doing? she felt her breath shorten. " We were all northern once." she began loudly, turning to face the crowd, and then she chanced a glanced at Sanderon. "We all called the north home, it was the place we were born and grew up, can we really be upset ay someone wanting to go home?" she asked the as loud as she dared- which in was rather loudly. Not so loud as to be drowned out by the crowd- but loud enough, that few people were starting to turn her way.
She shivered inside. She'd lost right? No she felt empathy for him. She too had been in that same positon- including being lashed. B'jin, herself and now this Sanderon had all been lashed. How those marks felt like they burned on her back now. She swallowed. " I for one, say we fight back against these lashings for simply wanting to go home. " she glanced again at Sanderon. " I have been here a year, stood for a clutch and I consider Katila 'home', but I think we need to have some compassion for those who still have wounded hearts."
She didn't move from her place in front. Lymsleia breathed slowly, her heart was pounding her chest, repeatedly hammering against her ribcage. Why did she always make these stupid speeches, no one listened. Though maybe she could at least remind them that they in somemanner were all 'stolen'.
"We are all 'stolen, the riders are here because they were forced- to survive-. We are here because we taken, or dragged or brought and too little to remember it. We all are all like this one.." she gestured to Sandoren. "We all just want to go home.." she stood their, waiting for something to happen, rooted to the spot by her own brazen-ness. She glanced at Sandoren, and smiled. "Hi." she breathed as if it were some pleasant meeting and not a lashing.
She felt stupid. Really Really stupid, but she'd spoken out, and that made her feel better. It was better than what had happened with the last Weyrleader's decision that had been a shouting match.
She strode towards the front. What was she doing? she felt her breath shorten. " We were all northern once." she began loudly, turning to face the crowd, and then she chanced a glanced at Sanderon. "We all called the north home, it was the place we were born and grew up, can we really be upset ay someone wanting to go home?" she asked the as loud as she dared- which in was rather loudly. Not so loud as to be drowned out by the crowd- but loud enough, that few people were starting to turn her way.
She shivered inside. She'd lost right? No she felt empathy for him. She too had been in that same positon- including being lashed. B'jin, herself and now this Sanderon had all been lashed. How those marks felt like they burned on her back now. She swallowed. " I for one, say we fight back against these lashings for simply wanting to go home. " she glanced again at Sanderon. " I have been here a year, stood for a clutch and I consider Katila 'home', but I think we need to have some compassion for those who still have wounded hearts."
She didn't move from her place in front. Lymsleia breathed slowly, her heart was pounding her chest, repeatedly hammering against her ribcage. Why did she always make these stupid speeches, no one listened. Though maybe she could at least remind them that they in somemanner were all 'stolen'.
"We are all 'stolen, the riders are here because they were forced- to survive-. We are here because we taken, or dragged or brought and too little to remember it. We all are all like this one.." she gestured to Sandoren. "We all just want to go home.." she stood their, waiting for something to happen, rooted to the spot by her own brazen-ness. She glanced at Sandoren, and smiled. "Hi." she breathed as if it were some pleasant meeting and not a lashing.
She felt stupid. Really Really stupid, but she'd spoken out, and that made her feel better. It was better than what had happened with the last Weyrleader's decision that had been a shouting match.
