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!
20.Sep.13, 01:13 AM
Z'jan watched O'wain absently for a moment. He couldn't figure out what the other rider was doing. Z'jan was too distracted. And he was so hot. He swallowed, the brisk mountain air feeling no more brisk now than the steam from a cup of klah. And then, abruptly, it registered on him. O'wain was undressing. He thought he'd won. Like it was that easy. Z'jan's blood boiled. It wasn't that fucking easy!
"Cheating!" he growled, almost incomprehensibly, and lunged at O'wain...
But, again, he stopped himself, this time only inches from the other man. Why did he stop! He wanted to blacken O'wain's eyes! Break his nose! Dig his fingers into his flesh and not let go...
Z'jan shook his head, trying to find some clarity. He couldn't get close. Didn't want to, even though he did. If he got close, then O'wain really had won. Z'jan exhaled feverishly. He was a man pulled in two directions, confused, inexperienced, and without a plan. He stood frozen, face contorted with rage, hands held half over his head as though to beat the over man over the head if he got the chance.
Up in the sky, Ghalath peered over her shoulder at the falling brown. He would not catch her. Heavier did not mean faster, she knew that much. The time she and Z'jan had spent plummeting to earth in various reckless activities had not left her ignorant. In the eyes of gravity, all things fell at the same rate. Only wind resistance mattered. And in that regard, she was queen.
Eyes like whirlpools, she tilted her head back and hissed at Nishkath... yes, he was the one from the lake... as he lurked above her. He wasn't even trying. Did he think it would be so easy!
But Ghalath was young and green, in more ways than one. Nishkath's presence above her was constant, but she failed to make the kinds of assumptions that another, more experienced green might. All she knew was that as long as the brown was her, then he still didn't have her.
She'd lost a lot of altitude, but the ache in her wings had subsided. Enough. She threw out her left wing, banking sharply to the right. She leveled only for a moment, before beating her wings furiously against the sky and reclaiming the altitude she'd just given up. Her muscles burned, but it was a good burn. She wanted the burn. And she wasn't done with the feeling yet.
"Cheating!" he growled, almost incomprehensibly, and lunged at O'wain...
But, again, he stopped himself, this time only inches from the other man. Why did he stop! He wanted to blacken O'wain's eyes! Break his nose! Dig his fingers into his flesh and not let go...
Z'jan shook his head, trying to find some clarity. He couldn't get close. Didn't want to, even though he did. If he got close, then O'wain really had won. Z'jan exhaled feverishly. He was a man pulled in two directions, confused, inexperienced, and without a plan. He stood frozen, face contorted with rage, hands held half over his head as though to beat the over man over the head if he got the chance.
Up in the sky, Ghalath peered over her shoulder at the falling brown. He would not catch her. Heavier did not mean faster, she knew that much. The time she and Z'jan had spent plummeting to earth in various reckless activities had not left her ignorant. In the eyes of gravity, all things fell at the same rate. Only wind resistance mattered. And in that regard, she was queen.
Eyes like whirlpools, she tilted her head back and hissed at Nishkath... yes, he was the one from the lake... as he lurked above her. He wasn't even trying. Did he think it would be so easy!
But Ghalath was young and green, in more ways than one. Nishkath's presence above her was constant, but she failed to make the kinds of assumptions that another, more experienced green might. All she knew was that as long as the brown was her, then he still didn't have her.
She'd lost a lot of altitude, but the ache in her wings had subsided. Enough. She threw out her left wing, banking sharply to the right. She leveled only for a moment, before beating her wings furiously against the sky and reclaiming the altitude she'd just given up. Her muscles burned, but it was a good burn. She wanted the burn. And she wasn't done with the feeling yet.
