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, 07:49 AM
Why is she crying? Ronarth asked, whispering in his mindvoice as he held one brightly whirling eye to the window. D'ren looked up, nodding once to the dragon and allowing himself a soft, sad smile.
She's a baby, Ronarth. It's what they do he explained. He held Tsereni close to his chest and rocked her gently, trying his best to coax her back to sleep. The little girl wiggled and gurgled, but gradually she calmed down. D'ren shushed her lightly and rose to his feet, restless after a long morning tending to the little girl's demands.
If he felt like he'd never slept before, he wasn't even sure what the proper complaint was anymore. Between his duties as a Weyrleader and his duties as a parent, he wasn't even sure if he could tell up from down anymore.
He placed Tsereni in her bed and moved into his bathing quarters, where a rare mirror hung on the opposite wall. "Shards," he murmured as he inspected himself. He was graying fast, much too fast for a man his age. He wasn't young anymore, but he'd never expected to look at himself so old so soon. He sighed and ran his fingers through his red hair, which seemed to grow increasingly peppered each day.
Ronarth. Have I gotten too soft? he asked, narrowing his eyes at the mirror in a flash of resentment. He still couldn't believe his latest moment of weakness; allowing that poor boy to be lashed in public. He knew it was the logical thing to do in the short term. He knew his Weyrwoman and his Second had a good point regarding consistency and example. He knew he was a bleeding heart.
The long term mattered too, damn it! He sneered, thinking about the increasingly unhappy population that he oversaw. He'd never seen a Weyr so close to revolution. How could he have allowed this to happen?
And why did Tsuen fight him every step of the way?
We cannot disobey Nirinath Ronarth lamented as he coiled outside. And Tsuen is fearful to return home
I know, Ronarth D'ren said. He recognized Ronarth's indecision. The bronze wished to defend both his rider and his mate, and Tsuen by extension. It didn't help that D'ren felt both more and less attached to Tsuen with each passing day. She'd once been so devoted and gentle. Now, she seemed to sink further into her depression each day, and D'ren didn't know how to save her. It was just like he didn't know how to save the poor northerners whose lives he'd ruined, or the greenriders who suffered under abuses that he was powerless to stop because they went unreported.
In a rare moment of wisdom, Ronarth spoke: You can't save everyone.
I ought to at least be able to save someone D'ren replied sourly. He sighed, then turned away from his reflection. Come on. We're going to see B'jin
He grabbed his notepad and some charcoal and shoved them in a bag of baby supplies. Then, he spent a few quick moments strapping Ronarth before going back inside to retrieve Tsereni. She slept soundly as he rode to B'jin's hut, though he chose to travel along the ground rather than fly. He didn't trust his own hands with the child in the air, much less Ronarth!
And so Ronarth arrived, trotting up to B'jin's hut like a massive pony. The bronze crooned a greeting as his rider dismounted and approached the door.
Larrikith! D'ren wants to show off the tiny human he announced. He made no mention of his rider's self-loathing mood. D'ren himself seemed muted, but not unhappy as he waited for the door to open.
She's a baby, Ronarth. It's what they do he explained. He held Tsereni close to his chest and rocked her gently, trying his best to coax her back to sleep. The little girl wiggled and gurgled, but gradually she calmed down. D'ren shushed her lightly and rose to his feet, restless after a long morning tending to the little girl's demands.
If he felt like he'd never slept before, he wasn't even sure what the proper complaint was anymore. Between his duties as a Weyrleader and his duties as a parent, he wasn't even sure if he could tell up from down anymore.
He placed Tsereni in her bed and moved into his bathing quarters, where a rare mirror hung on the opposite wall. "Shards," he murmured as he inspected himself. He was graying fast, much too fast for a man his age. He wasn't young anymore, but he'd never expected to look at himself so old so soon. He sighed and ran his fingers through his red hair, which seemed to grow increasingly peppered each day.
Ronarth. Have I gotten too soft? he asked, narrowing his eyes at the mirror in a flash of resentment. He still couldn't believe his latest moment of weakness; allowing that poor boy to be lashed in public. He knew it was the logical thing to do in the short term. He knew his Weyrwoman and his Second had a good point regarding consistency and example. He knew he was a bleeding heart.
The long term mattered too, damn it! He sneered, thinking about the increasingly unhappy population that he oversaw. He'd never seen a Weyr so close to revolution. How could he have allowed this to happen?
And why did Tsuen fight him every step of the way?
We cannot disobey Nirinath Ronarth lamented as he coiled outside. And Tsuen is fearful to return home
I know, Ronarth D'ren said. He recognized Ronarth's indecision. The bronze wished to defend both his rider and his mate, and Tsuen by extension. It didn't help that D'ren felt both more and less attached to Tsuen with each passing day. She'd once been so devoted and gentle. Now, she seemed to sink further into her depression each day, and D'ren didn't know how to save her. It was just like he didn't know how to save the poor northerners whose lives he'd ruined, or the greenriders who suffered under abuses that he was powerless to stop because they went unreported.
In a rare moment of wisdom, Ronarth spoke: You can't save everyone.
I ought to at least be able to save someone D'ren replied sourly. He sighed, then turned away from his reflection. Come on. We're going to see B'jin
He grabbed his notepad and some charcoal and shoved them in a bag of baby supplies. Then, he spent a few quick moments strapping Ronarth before going back inside to retrieve Tsereni. She slept soundly as he rode to B'jin's hut, though he chose to travel along the ground rather than fly. He didn't trust his own hands with the child in the air, much less Ronarth!
And so Ronarth arrived, trotting up to B'jin's hut like a massive pony. The bronze crooned a greeting as his rider dismounted and approached the door.
Larrikith! D'ren wants to show off the tiny human he announced. He made no mention of his rider's self-loathing mood. D'ren himself seemed muted, but not unhappy as he waited for the door to open.
