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!
30.Jan.13, 02:33 PM
Ellaira was tired, or else she might better have read B'run's body language as nervousness, rather than exhaustion and perhaps wariness. But she was tired, and deeply affected by the madness which had gripped the Weyr, and so she saw no reason not to tromp after him through the brush, with essentially no care for what happened to her clothing. It was too early for caring about clothing, and it wasn't like she was wearing delicate lovelies. Ignoring, of course, the fact that she had never owned anything which might be delegated to "delicate" or "lovelies", particularly as the combination seemed to indicate frilly lingerie.
Walking in the brush was hardly a new activity for the woman - after all, herding flocks of wherries and other birds was part of her job, though part which was all-the-more often delegated to youths as they started coming of age - and she stubbed her toes slightly less frequently than B'run. She started when B'run flipped into the clearing over a fallen log, stepping backwards automatically, her eyes wide.
When she saw the blood, she winced in sympathy. Carefully, she impressed the image of the cloth she had used to wash her face to Warbler - it would still be wet. The blue complained, but obeyed, jumping off her shoulder and winking between.
"Are you alright?" Ellaira asked, holding out her hand. A heartbeat later, Warbler appeared in the air, holding the cloth in all four feet and flapping wildly, barely managing to slow his fall. He dropped the cloth into Ellaira's hand with a screech, and winked between to go sulk. He didn't go far, landing in the tree over B'run and making a distressed nails-on-slate noise several times, until Ellaira looked up and frowned at him.
She stepped onto the first log, walked onto the second, and then dropped down to the ground with decent grace, crouching next to B'run. "Don't move," she commanded, reaching forward to clean the blood and dirt off of his forehead. "It's not that bad. Once I get the dirt out, you can hold this to the scrape until it stops bleeding. Shouldn't take long."
Walking in the brush was hardly a new activity for the woman - after all, herding flocks of wherries and other birds was part of her job, though part which was all-the-more often delegated to youths as they started coming of age - and she stubbed her toes slightly less frequently than B'run. She started when B'run flipped into the clearing over a fallen log, stepping backwards automatically, her eyes wide.
When she saw the blood, she winced in sympathy. Carefully, she impressed the image of the cloth she had used to wash her face to Warbler - it would still be wet. The blue complained, but obeyed, jumping off her shoulder and winking between.
"Are you alright?" Ellaira asked, holding out her hand. A heartbeat later, Warbler appeared in the air, holding the cloth in all four feet and flapping wildly, barely managing to slow his fall. He dropped the cloth into Ellaira's hand with a screech, and winked between to go sulk. He didn't go far, landing in the tree over B'run and making a distressed nails-on-slate noise several times, until Ellaira looked up and frowned at him.
She stepped onto the first log, walked onto the second, and then dropped down to the ground with decent grace, crouching next to B'run. "Don't move," she commanded, reaching forward to clean the blood and dirt off of his forehead. "It's not that bad. Once I get the dirt out, you can hold this to the scrape until it stops bleeding. Shouldn't take long."
