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!
18.Sep.13, 04:41 PM
Water.
It was the best word in Z'jan's vocabulary. Or one of them. Jump was a pretty good word. And sex wasn't too far off, either. Though not exactly sex in the way that he'd been having it lately... Z'jan shook his head to clear it. It was a habit of his, as though what was going on inside was as easy to shake away as a wisp of fog, or a pestering insect. He didn't want to think right now. And the only thing between his legs at the moment that he had to worry about was Ghalath. He glanced down at the dark mottled hide, her short wings flapping brutally against the sky. They hadn't been communicating much lately. And today was no exception. They were both still a bit bruised... perhaps more inside, than out.
Ghalath dropped towards to the lake. Unlike larger dragons, who descended in lazy circles, Ghalath tended simply to fall like a stone. But Z'jan was used it. Already he'd purposefully tangled one foot in the riding straps., giving him the freedom to scratch violently at his hair, as though to punish it for the thoughts going on beneath it. Plus, it just felt good. Why did scratching one's head feel so good anyway?
With a thud, talons digging little trenches in the sand, the green pair came to land by the shore. Z'jan had anticipated a water landing, and the thump into firmer earth caught him unawares. His hands jerked away from his head. But he didn't complain. Neither he nor Ghalath were in the mood to here each others complaints. Not today. Not for a while, maybe.
Curiously, as soon as she let Z'jan off, Ghalath took off again and made for the water. Was she punishing him? Z'jan gave a stiff sigh. It's not like any of it had been his fault. He wasn't the one who decided to whoring about in the sky. He caught himself. Ghalath wasn't proddy. He didn't have an excuse to be a dick anymore.
Ghalath either ignored or didn't notice the thoughts going on in her riders head. She had thoughts going on in her own head. And so preoccupied were her own thoughts that when she slapped belly first into the water, she nearly did so on top of a small pink person. With an alarmed rumble, she lifted her closer wing awkwardly above the water, so as not to knock the girl under or poke out her eye. But that waves she'd already created were unavoidable.
From the shore, Z'jan looked up. Ghalath's rumble was out of place. He peered towards the water, squinting his eyes against the sun.
It was the best word in Z'jan's vocabulary. Or one of them. Jump was a pretty good word. And sex wasn't too far off, either. Though not exactly sex in the way that he'd been having it lately... Z'jan shook his head to clear it. It was a habit of his, as though what was going on inside was as easy to shake away as a wisp of fog, or a pestering insect. He didn't want to think right now. And the only thing between his legs at the moment that he had to worry about was Ghalath. He glanced down at the dark mottled hide, her short wings flapping brutally against the sky. They hadn't been communicating much lately. And today was no exception. They were both still a bit bruised... perhaps more inside, than out.
Ghalath dropped towards to the lake. Unlike larger dragons, who descended in lazy circles, Ghalath tended simply to fall like a stone. But Z'jan was used it. Already he'd purposefully tangled one foot in the riding straps., giving him the freedom to scratch violently at his hair, as though to punish it for the thoughts going on beneath it. Plus, it just felt good. Why did scratching one's head feel so good anyway?
With a thud, talons digging little trenches in the sand, the green pair came to land by the shore. Z'jan had anticipated a water landing, and the thump into firmer earth caught him unawares. His hands jerked away from his head. But he didn't complain. Neither he nor Ghalath were in the mood to here each others complaints. Not today. Not for a while, maybe.
Curiously, as soon as she let Z'jan off, Ghalath took off again and made for the water. Was she punishing him? Z'jan gave a stiff sigh. It's not like any of it had been his fault. He wasn't the one who decided to whoring about in the sky. He caught himself. Ghalath wasn't proddy. He didn't have an excuse to be a dick anymore.
Ghalath either ignored or didn't notice the thoughts going on in her riders head. She had thoughts going on in her own head. And so preoccupied were her own thoughts that when she slapped belly first into the water, she nearly did so on top of a small pink person. With an alarmed rumble, she lifted her closer wing awkwardly above the water, so as not to knock the girl under or poke out her eye. But that waves she'd already created were unavoidable.
From the shore, Z'jan looked up. Ghalath's rumble was out of place. He peered towards the water, squinting his eyes against the sun.
