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!
10.Feb.13, 10:54 AM
Indivara groaned, shifting enough to slap her hands over the back of her head and her arms to block her ears as she buried her face in the summer grass with a scowl. Her head was pounding, and all she could hear was the sound of Shanith, followed hotly by Grith’s exuberant voice. Why, oh why, were these greens so determined to rattle around in her brain?! “Gofuckyourself,” Indivara muttered into the ground as Ryvian ushered the dragons off. The girl grimaced into the dirt, and slowly pulled herself up onto her hands and knees, flopping backwards to kneel in an inelegant pile as her fingers played over the back of her head with a frown.
“Fucking hate dragons.” Indivara grumbled, taking Ryvian’s hand without comment and allowing him to haul her to her feet. It was a comment often slung around by the girl, usually at times following Hatchings or – such as presently – when one of them had done some type of damage to her small and apparently target painted body. Indivara hoped dearly her own dragon wouldn’t thirst for her blood like every other cunt in the Weyr seemed to! Taking her hand back from Ryvian, Indivara pat him condescendingly on the chest once before brushing both hands through her hair, removing some of the dirt and grass that had taken up habitat there, and shook her head. There was a headache blooming, but nothing life threatening; she’d been punched harder by her friends. Unlike being hit in the head with a ball, however, Indivara usually saw the punch coming.
Turning to see where the dragons were, Indivara gave a soft bark of laughter at the sight of Grith covered in children like ants on a piece of fruit. Blue eyes sparkled with amusement as she picked up one of the forgotten balls that had come to a halt near the pair, and tossed it lightly into the air, catching it with a sly, mischievous smirk given sideways to Ryvian. “Bet you can’t knock one of them off.” With a positively evil smirk, Indivara pelted a ball at one of the older children (one she knew wouldn’t bawl like a baby) and watched the child topple off the dragon’s stomach and land on the ground with a shout of surprise. A smug, challenging look was given to Ryvian. A lot of the kids were too young to be any fun, but a handful of them were old enough to pick up on the game – a given from the way several were now dancing mockingly on Grith’s stomach and daring the elder Weyrbrats to knock them off. Most of the little ones fled to play the game of jumping over Grith’s tail.
“Fucking hate dragons.” Indivara grumbled, taking Ryvian’s hand without comment and allowing him to haul her to her feet. It was a comment often slung around by the girl, usually at times following Hatchings or – such as presently – when one of them had done some type of damage to her small and apparently target painted body. Indivara hoped dearly her own dragon wouldn’t thirst for her blood like every other cunt in the Weyr seemed to! Taking her hand back from Ryvian, Indivara pat him condescendingly on the chest once before brushing both hands through her hair, removing some of the dirt and grass that had taken up habitat there, and shook her head. There was a headache blooming, but nothing life threatening; she’d been punched harder by her friends. Unlike being hit in the head with a ball, however, Indivara usually saw the punch coming.
Turning to see where the dragons were, Indivara gave a soft bark of laughter at the sight of Grith covered in children like ants on a piece of fruit. Blue eyes sparkled with amusement as she picked up one of the forgotten balls that had come to a halt near the pair, and tossed it lightly into the air, catching it with a sly, mischievous smirk given sideways to Ryvian. “Bet you can’t knock one of them off.” With a positively evil smirk, Indivara pelted a ball at one of the older children (one she knew wouldn’t bawl like a baby) and watched the child topple off the dragon’s stomach and land on the ground with a shout of surprise. A smug, challenging look was given to Ryvian. A lot of the kids were too young to be any fun, but a handful of them were old enough to pick up on the game – a given from the way several were now dancing mockingly on Grith’s stomach and daring the elder Weyrbrats to knock them off. Most of the little ones fled to play the game of jumping over Grith’s tail.
