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!
17.Mar.12, 11:14 AM
For future reference, Farlint did not laugh when the Bittersweet Tundra Hatchling tripped in its wings. Nor was he laughing when the dragon flung itself at a short new figure standing among the Candidates, sliding up and down the soft body of one of his fellow Candidates. He didn't notice how suspiciously short the body was, or even think about how they hadn't been there last time he looked in that direction. Instead- he was frozen. Paralyzed. What should he do? What could he do? Why was he thinking- he should be acting. There was hissing, and blood pouring onto the sands. Bile rose in his throat, and he took one hesitant step in the dragonet's direction. What would he do? What could he do? Oh shards, what was he talking about? Why was he thinking this out?
Farlint had never been this determinedly reactive before, and in the few seconds that could have made a difference, he found himself torn between who he was, and the trouble he'd get into if he misstepped and caused some kind of mental trauma to the dragonet. What if he pulled the sharding beast away and it went Between? Would it be his fault? Maybe not, but he would feel guilty about it for... who knew how long.
Too late he came to the decision that he'd take that guilt. He lurched forward as Nirinath roared, and the dragonet released its prey and shrieked in frustration.
Farlint could do the same.
The dragonet flung itself another direction, and for a moment he could imagine another Candidate bleeding out onto the Sands. But the other one- the pretty girl he'd met a couple of times- got off fairly lucky.
And then the ball of anger was hurtling his way. Farlint took a step back, away- but it wasn't enough. The dragonet was small, but Far's knees were low to the ground (compared to his head anyway). The impact didn't seem that serious at first. Far heard the sound, but didn't feel it. He felt wet, and wondered if he'd pissed himself? or if maybe the dragonet had cut him- he'd been cut before and sometimes it took a while to realize it. He tilted his head further, to try and see what had been done, and was startled to see bone jutting. Was startled to find that the leg wasn't going to-
Support him. Farlint felt woozy, and the world spun briefly. He tried to lean back on the other leg, but the dragonet was still there, and he... He should play dead. Animals reacted well to playing dead. The beastcrafter let himself go limp, let himself fall towards the Sands, hearing cries for people to make it to him. I'm okay! He wanted to yell, but until the dragon was done with him, it wasn't okay.
Was Ilveriath going to be sad that Farlint might not have a friend to show him? And how was Far going to help give the Blue baths if his leg was... Maybe when he opened his eyes, he'd realize this had all been a nightmare.
Farlint had never been this determinedly reactive before, and in the few seconds that could have made a difference, he found himself torn between who he was, and the trouble he'd get into if he misstepped and caused some kind of mental trauma to the dragonet. What if he pulled the sharding beast away and it went Between? Would it be his fault? Maybe not, but he would feel guilty about it for... who knew how long.
Too late he came to the decision that he'd take that guilt. He lurched forward as Nirinath roared, and the dragonet released its prey and shrieked in frustration.
Farlint could do the same.
The dragonet flung itself another direction, and for a moment he could imagine another Candidate bleeding out onto the Sands. But the other one- the pretty girl he'd met a couple of times- got off fairly lucky.
And then the ball of anger was hurtling his way. Farlint took a step back, away- but it wasn't enough. The dragonet was small, but Far's knees were low to the ground (compared to his head anyway). The impact didn't seem that serious at first. Far heard the sound, but didn't feel it. He felt wet, and wondered if he'd pissed himself? or if maybe the dragonet had cut him- he'd been cut before and sometimes it took a while to realize it. He tilted his head further, to try and see what had been done, and was startled to see bone jutting. Was startled to find that the leg wasn't going to-
Support him. Farlint felt woozy, and the world spun briefly. He tried to lean back on the other leg, but the dragonet was still there, and he... He should play dead. Animals reacted well to playing dead. The beastcrafter let himself go limp, let himself fall towards the Sands, hearing cries for people to make it to him. I'm okay! He wanted to yell, but until the dragon was done with him, it wasn't okay.
Was Ilveriath going to be sad that Farlint might not have a friend to show him? And how was Far going to help give the Blue baths if his leg was... Maybe when he opened his eyes, he'd realize this had all been a nightmare.
