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!
05.Apr.14, 12:48 AM
Some things, they do not require words, and really, R’nya had never been one to bother with unnecessary words. He had also never been one to buck the rules of their society, even when that meant that browns had found themselves stepping on the toes of bronzeriders to claim titles that simply weren’t supposed to be theirs. R’nya had always been a soldier; obedient to the very T, and willing to work without questioning the orders that were passed down to him by those deemed more efficient to hold higher ranks.
However, he had also never been one to let others over step their boundaries, either. A man should know his place, and he should respect it, and work within it. He should respect those that walked above him, and be courteous to those that lingered below him; R’nya had never supported the grinding into the ground of green and blueriders. If they did not sit at the base of the totem pole, than someone else would have been there. Respect – respect those higher than you; respect those lower than you. Ultimately, for R’nya, it all came down to respect.
K’tir, though, he clearly had none, for anyone. R’nya’s shoulders had tightened at the blasé remark about Ameris’, and not because of Torath (and by proxy, N’kal) winning – they were, as far as bronze pairs went, well enough, though Okalinath would likely be as displeased as Aradissicath – but because of the total lack of respect K’tir clearly had for the woman. R’nya did not expect people to respect his girls because they were goldriders; he expected them to respect them, because they simply were.
The quip at himself, and the lazy salute, however, pushed R’nya’s final buttons. The bronzerider could handle many things, but the overwhelming amount of disrespect K’tir was giving to others, many of whom were above his station – not the least of which were R’nya himself! – was more than the bronzerider was willing to stand for. Reaching out with his left hand to grab K’tir’s shoulder and spin the brownrider around, R’nya’s right fist flew forward, angling powerfully for K’tir’s face.
The crunch of flesh and bone connecting was at once both satisfactory, and caused R’nya to grimace a little. He had released K’tir’s shoulder, allowing the brownrider to stumble back against the wall. R’nya did not bother to analyse how much damage he had done as he stood over the man, staring down his nose at him. “Learn some respect, brownrider.” His tone was flat, but his words were orders; R’nya the Wingleader, not another flight loser. R’nya continued to stare him down for a moment longer, before turning curtly on his own heel, and marching down the hall.
These brownriders are getting too big for their boots.
Indeed, Sir. Xyreith finally deigned to speak, his voice low and pitched solely for R’nya. Neither spoke of the reason why the brownriders were getting too full of themselves. It was not worth the risk, but it was acknowledged by both. Things needed to change.
However, he had also never been one to let others over step their boundaries, either. A man should know his place, and he should respect it, and work within it. He should respect those that walked above him, and be courteous to those that lingered below him; R’nya had never supported the grinding into the ground of green and blueriders. If they did not sit at the base of the totem pole, than someone else would have been there. Respect – respect those higher than you; respect those lower than you. Ultimately, for R’nya, it all came down to respect.
K’tir, though, he clearly had none, for anyone. R’nya’s shoulders had tightened at the blasé remark about Ameris’, and not because of Torath (and by proxy, N’kal) winning – they were, as far as bronze pairs went, well enough, though Okalinath would likely be as displeased as Aradissicath – but because of the total lack of respect K’tir clearly had for the woman. R’nya did not expect people to respect his girls because they were goldriders; he expected them to respect them, because they simply were.
The quip at himself, and the lazy salute, however, pushed R’nya’s final buttons. The bronzerider could handle many things, but the overwhelming amount of disrespect K’tir was giving to others, many of whom were above his station – not the least of which were R’nya himself! – was more than the bronzerider was willing to stand for. Reaching out with his left hand to grab K’tir’s shoulder and spin the brownrider around, R’nya’s right fist flew forward, angling powerfully for K’tir’s face.
The crunch of flesh and bone connecting was at once both satisfactory, and caused R’nya to grimace a little. He had released K’tir’s shoulder, allowing the brownrider to stumble back against the wall. R’nya did not bother to analyse how much damage he had done as he stood over the man, staring down his nose at him. “Learn some respect, brownrider.” His tone was flat, but his words were orders; R’nya the Wingleader, not another flight loser. R’nya continued to stare him down for a moment longer, before turning curtly on his own heel, and marching down the hall.
These brownriders are getting too big for their boots.
