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!
29.Apr.13, 01:20 PM
As the redfruit woman desperately scrambled away, a nagging voice drifted into M'din's throbbing head, I leave you alone for three candlemarks and you manage to concuss yourself. Superb. Armath sounded uncharacteristically pissy, poorly masking his concern with sarcasm. I'm going between. I'll be there soon.
Wait, buddy! I'm fine, really. There's someone else with me, the woman who fell out of the tree, and I think she's beyond terrified right now. You might scare her even more. M'din hazily watched as she stammered, entire body quivering like a spooked deer. He had no notion of what he'd done to make her this frightened. Was she guilty for hurting him? Broken fingers, bruised shoulder, and bleeding head notwithstanding, he was fine!
You mean to tell me a person fell out of a tree, further brain damaging you, and you're worried about her feelings? M'din sighed, wishing his fingers didn't ache quite so vividly, Yes, Armath. You can fly this way, but don't pop in until I ask, please. The brown begrudgingly acceded, mumbling snarky comments lowly in his mind. If M'din had been more seriously injured, he would not have waited for permission.
The tiny woman pointed at him for a long moment before he understood what she said. The ringing in his ears made all noise sound stuffy and distant. His unbroken hand flew to the back of his head, returning drenched in bright crimson. "Oh, yeah," he muttered. "You're right. No big deal about the blood! I've had worse, and head injuries always look nastier than they are." He smiled briefly before snapping his mouth closed, instantly regretting his statement. She was shaking uncontrollably again.
He scooted closer to her, dragging his tubby frame like a fat, crippled snake in the grass. The swimming motion in his head made him want to vomit. "I'm glad you're not hurt, ma'am. My name's M'din," he said softly. He kept his voice gentle, hoping to offset the fact that he looked like a monstrous, bloody bear-man. "I would shake your hand, but we should probably save that for another time. Would it be all right if my dragon came to see me now? He's very worried." From his flattened position on the ground, M'din felt a surge of fatigue. It would be so pleasant to go to sleep under the trees.
He added with a sagging wave of his reddened hand, slurring, "He's a very nice dragon. He's brown, like klah... but tastier." Darkness enveloped M'din as his bearded face hit the grass. His final thought before surrendering to his concussion was, Dirt is hard to breathe.
Wait, buddy! I'm fine, really. There's someone else with me, the woman who fell out of the tree, and I think she's beyond terrified right now. You might scare her even more. M'din hazily watched as she stammered, entire body quivering like a spooked deer. He had no notion of what he'd done to make her this frightened. Was she guilty for hurting him? Broken fingers, bruised shoulder, and bleeding head notwithstanding, he was fine!
The tiny woman pointed at him for a long moment before he understood what she said. The ringing in his ears made all noise sound stuffy and distant. His unbroken hand flew to the back of his head, returning drenched in bright crimson. "Oh, yeah," he muttered. "You're right. No big deal about the blood! I've had worse, and head injuries always look nastier than they are." He smiled briefly before snapping his mouth closed, instantly regretting his statement. She was shaking uncontrollably again.
He scooted closer to her, dragging his tubby frame like a fat, crippled snake in the grass. The swimming motion in his head made him want to vomit. "I'm glad you're not hurt, ma'am. My name's M'din," he said softly. He kept his voice gentle, hoping to offset the fact that he looked like a monstrous, bloody bear-man. "I would shake your hand, but we should probably save that for another time. Would it be all right if my dragon came to see me now? He's very worried." From his flattened position on the ground, M'din felt a surge of fatigue. It would be so pleasant to go to sleep under the trees.
He added with a sagging wave of his reddened hand, slurring, "He's a very nice dragon. He's brown, like klah... but tastier." Darkness enveloped M'din as his bearded face hit the grass. His final thought before surrendering to his concussion was, Dirt is hard to breathe.
