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!
30.Nov.17, 05:35 PM
M’dox sighed dramatically, and threw yet another shirt onto the pile of fabric currently cascading off his bed. As someone raised in a cothold, he’d been raised with the idea that going into the Hold, especially a major Hold like Telgar, was a big deal and you had to dress nicely. So of course he had to spend a good deal of time fretting over his outfit and making a right mess out of his weyr.
At least he’d done laundry only three days before, so most of his wardrobe was clean, and therefore wearable, giving him plenty of options.
Of course, said doing of laundry was the cause of his current predicament. As excited as he was to have (maybe?) made a friend and been invited to spend time in the hold, his more cynical side wouldn’t stop bolstering his anxiety. The negative voice in the back of his mind kept bringing up possibilities M’dox would rather not think of, about how he’d just make a fool of himself, T’bia had probably forgotten all about him, or, perhaps worse, decided not to go through with their plans, either having Jycenth send the message that their trip was cancelled, or ignoring them altogether. As much as he tried to focus on what shirt to wear, the negative murmurings in his head suffused him with anxiety. M’dox could see his hands shaking as he unfolded another shirt.
They will contact us. Riquarth said soothingly, wrapping M’dox in love through their bond. Do not fret so much.
“When have I ever not fretted?” M’dox muttered, sending a glance toward the curtain separating his bedroom from the cavern where his dragon lounged. He could feel the brown’s affectionate laughter, as he lay in wait for their summons from Jycenth and T’bia. M’dox went back to looking at his clothing.
You know, you’ll be wearing your riding jacket most of the time. The dragon pointed out with good natured teasing. Your shirt will barely be seen.
“Damnit, you’re right.” M’dox cried, throwing down the shirt he was holding in frustration. Frowning, he picked the shirt back up. It was a resplendent blueish purple shirt, with a tight waist and loose sleeves. He’d gotten it as a thank you gift from a Lower Caverns woman who he’d helped in Katila as a weyrling, helping her clean out the huts and rooms of people who had already moved back North and left things behind. The shirt had been something he’d found, and she’d let him keep it, noticing his longing stares at the beautiful fabric. He liked the shirt, and even if no one else saw it, wearing it would make him feel better. M’dox quickly slipped off his thin sleep shirt in favor of the purple one, pleased he’d managed to make a decision. He also grabbed a pair of light hide pants, made for riding but not the heavy ones that were part of the ‘official’ dragonrider outfit.
M’dox finished dressing, grabbing his boots and jacket and wandering out to Riquarth, leaning against his dragon to put on his boots and wait to hear from the effervescent bluerider and his dragon.
ThistleProse
At least he’d done laundry only three days before, so most of his wardrobe was clean, and therefore wearable, giving him plenty of options.
Of course, said doing of laundry was the cause of his current predicament. As excited as he was to have (maybe?) made a friend and been invited to spend time in the hold, his more cynical side wouldn’t stop bolstering his anxiety. The negative voice in the back of his mind kept bringing up possibilities M’dox would rather not think of, about how he’d just make a fool of himself, T’bia had probably forgotten all about him, or, perhaps worse, decided not to go through with their plans, either having Jycenth send the message that their trip was cancelled, or ignoring them altogether. As much as he tried to focus on what shirt to wear, the negative murmurings in his head suffused him with anxiety. M’dox could see his hands shaking as he unfolded another shirt.
They will contact us. Riquarth said soothingly, wrapping M’dox in love through their bond. Do not fret so much.
“When have I ever not fretted?” M’dox muttered, sending a glance toward the curtain separating his bedroom from the cavern where his dragon lounged. He could feel the brown’s affectionate laughter, as he lay in wait for their summons from Jycenth and T’bia. M’dox went back to looking at his clothing.
You know, you’ll be wearing your riding jacket most of the time. The dragon pointed out with good natured teasing. Your shirt will barely be seen.
“Damnit, you’re right.” M’dox cried, throwing down the shirt he was holding in frustration. Frowning, he picked the shirt back up. It was a resplendent blueish purple shirt, with a tight waist and loose sleeves. He’d gotten it as a thank you gift from a Lower Caverns woman who he’d helped in Katila as a weyrling, helping her clean out the huts and rooms of people who had already moved back North and left things behind. The shirt had been something he’d found, and she’d let him keep it, noticing his longing stares at the beautiful fabric. He liked the shirt, and even if no one else saw it, wearing it would make him feel better. M’dox quickly slipped off his thin sleep shirt in favor of the purple one, pleased he’d managed to make a decision. He also grabbed a pair of light hide pants, made for riding but not the heavy ones that were part of the ‘official’ dragonrider outfit.
M’dox finished dressing, grabbing his boots and jacket and wandering out to Riquarth, leaning against his dragon to put on his boots and wait to hear from the effervescent bluerider and his dragon.
ThistleProse
