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!
08.Nov.12, 01:36 AM
S'kef didn't know much about pity. He'd rarely received it as a child, and rarely saw a reason to have it as an adult. Still, as he opened his eyes and looked back at B'jin, he could tell that something was different. There was nothing particularly striking about the timid greenrider's expression or anything giving true feelings away, but the differentness lurked there nonetheless. S'kef was at first confused, than slightly curious, but ultimately satisfied just the same. Whatever was going on, it meant B'jin had heard his words and understood them.
The brownrider reached out and stroked B'jin's cheek, his intentions somewhere between mocking and complimentary. B'jin was a good boy. He hadn't fought the last time; it was as if decades of training had finally paid off. S'kef leaned down and pressed his lips to B'jin's, giving the greenrider one last parting kiss as he closed the book on their relationship.
That wasn't to say he would never interact with the greenrider again, or even that he no longer considered B'jin his rightful property. It was exactly as S'kef had said; he didn't need B'jin anymore. The cycle was complete, and by all appearances, both parties had changed because of it. Both had learned something about the world and about themselves. S'kef couldn't be more pleased with his own end of it.
He sat up, stretching just a bit, before rolling off of B'jin and reaching for his clothing. "You're so quiet," he purred, satisfied and warm. "Thank you, though. You're sweet, to be so well-behaved for me." He glanced hawkishly over to B'jin, but was surprised when he saw that alien emotion lingering there. S'kef didn't frown, but he did pause. What was that look B'jin was giving him?
Bah. It was probably nothing.
In only a few short hours, their roles had been reversed. B'jin was now aware of things as they truly where, while S'kef was the one living in denial. He rose to his feet, not bothering to help B'jin or tend to his wounds. B'jin was a greenrider, and finally in his proper place. After a moment of consideration, the brownrider turned to the door.
"You can go," he said. An uncertain smile crept across his face. It was satisfying to see B'jin crumpled on the floor like this, silent and obedient. B'jin wasn't a bright but timid greenrider to S'kef. He was the arrogant, obnoxious entitled harper that he'd met at Telgar hold that day. It didn't matter how many times he was knocked down. He would always deserve it.
It felt good to see him humbled, but as S'kef went outside and walked back into the Weyr, he was still puzzled by one thing.
Where was the fear?
The brownrider reached out and stroked B'jin's cheek, his intentions somewhere between mocking and complimentary. B'jin was a good boy. He hadn't fought the last time; it was as if decades of training had finally paid off. S'kef leaned down and pressed his lips to B'jin's, giving the greenrider one last parting kiss as he closed the book on their relationship.
That wasn't to say he would never interact with the greenrider again, or even that he no longer considered B'jin his rightful property. It was exactly as S'kef had said; he didn't need B'jin anymore. The cycle was complete, and by all appearances, both parties had changed because of it. Both had learned something about the world and about themselves. S'kef couldn't be more pleased with his own end of it.
He sat up, stretching just a bit, before rolling off of B'jin and reaching for his clothing. "You're so quiet," he purred, satisfied and warm. "Thank you, though. You're sweet, to be so well-behaved for me." He glanced hawkishly over to B'jin, but was surprised when he saw that alien emotion lingering there. S'kef didn't frown, but he did pause. What was that look B'jin was giving him?
Bah. It was probably nothing.
In only a few short hours, their roles had been reversed. B'jin was now aware of things as they truly where, while S'kef was the one living in denial. He rose to his feet, not bothering to help B'jin or tend to his wounds. B'jin was a greenrider, and finally in his proper place. After a moment of consideration, the brownrider turned to the door.
"You can go," he said. An uncertain smile crept across his face. It was satisfying to see B'jin crumpled on the floor like this, silent and obedient. B'jin wasn't a bright but timid greenrider to S'kef. He was the arrogant, obnoxious entitled harper that he'd met at Telgar hold that day. It didn't matter how many times he was knocked down. He would always deserve it.
It felt good to see him humbled, but as S'kef went outside and walked back into the Weyr, he was still puzzled by one thing.
Where was the fear?
