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!
04.Feb.18, 08:41 AM
After spending the morning assisting around the Weyr with chores and heavy lifting of supplies, Z’rin felt like the afternoon was the perfect time for a nap. Varralath, however, had a different idea. After Z’rin had his midday meal, his dragon informed him he was also hungry and wanted company while out hunting. After some friendly bickering that ended up with the dragon winning and Z’rin wondering why he ever bothered, they headed out for a bit of hunting.
Well, Varralath hunted; Z’rin enjoyed a nap up in a tree.
Ever since his family and others on the expedition left him behind in the South, Z’rin found comfort in having short naps in trees. He realized after the fact that felines could still climb and other dangers had wings, but grabbing a quick nap here and there while trying to survive in an unknown land with very little training to do just that, was nice and he felt secure. Now, whenever he went out for a trip with Varralath, he usually ended up in a tree, even if just to observe the world around him—which he tried to do for a bit that afternoon, watching his dragon swoop down on his chosen meal.
Now, they were home, both tuckered out from their outing and at least one of them a bit chilled from it as well. He was an Ista kid and living in Katila hadn’t helped him adapt any to the colder months. Thankfully Telgar wasn’t as bad as Fort, though the Weyrs were always warmer than the Holds. You are full of contradictions and complaints today, Varralath observed mildly as he repositioned himself in his corner of their home. “And whose fault is that?” Z’rin shot back with just as little attitude as his dragon had. Both were almost going through the motions of playful banter now that they were home with full bellies and exhaustion kicking in.
Z’rin had removed his riding leathers, kicked off his boots, and wiggled his toes as he debated the socks. No, they could stay on. His poor feet always seemed to be the first to get cold and he didn’t have nearly enough rugs around his home yet to satisfy the urge to safely go barefoot. He padded his way to his bedroom, removing his shirt on the way, intent on curling up under the warm furs for a bit if nothing else. The shirt had just made it into the bin and a blanket replaced it in his hands when three solid knocks sounded. Z’rin frowned, not at all expecting company, and briefly considered pretending he wasn’t home. Given that he hadn’t been home for very long was likely what drew his visitor if they saw him return.
The blanket was set back on the bed and Z’rin went to the door, not minding that he was without a shirt. He was certain that everyone had seen him in less thanks to flights in random locations and simply swimming at the lake by Katila. With the assumption it was one of his friends that were likely involved in either of those situations, or even just a messenger, Z’rin opened the door with a smile and then hesitated in his casual greeting he was about to give.
N’mor? Now that was someone he wouldn’t have placed a bet on. It had been what; four months? No, closer to six, if his quick counting was accurate, and he had long given up on the bronzerider taking him up on the offer to come by for a visit. Then again, maybe it wasn’t a social call but he was being summoned for some reason. Z’rin did his best to hide his sudden paranoia of being in trouble and focused on the off chance that N’mor really did want to spend time with him.
“Hey! What brings you by, N’mor? Did you want to come in?” His smile brightened as he focused on the good in the situation and held the door open further as invitation. He was always happy to see a friend or someone that interested him.
Well, Varralath hunted; Z’rin enjoyed a nap up in a tree.
Ever since his family and others on the expedition left him behind in the South, Z’rin found comfort in having short naps in trees. He realized after the fact that felines could still climb and other dangers had wings, but grabbing a quick nap here and there while trying to survive in an unknown land with very little training to do just that, was nice and he felt secure. Now, whenever he went out for a trip with Varralath, he usually ended up in a tree, even if just to observe the world around him—which he tried to do for a bit that afternoon, watching his dragon swoop down on his chosen meal.
Now, they were home, both tuckered out from their outing and at least one of them a bit chilled from it as well. He was an Ista kid and living in Katila hadn’t helped him adapt any to the colder months. Thankfully Telgar wasn’t as bad as Fort, though the Weyrs were always warmer than the Holds. You are full of contradictions and complaints today, Varralath observed mildly as he repositioned himself in his corner of their home. “And whose fault is that?” Z’rin shot back with just as little attitude as his dragon had. Both were almost going through the motions of playful banter now that they were home with full bellies and exhaustion kicking in.
Z’rin had removed his riding leathers, kicked off his boots, and wiggled his toes as he debated the socks. No, they could stay on. His poor feet always seemed to be the first to get cold and he didn’t have nearly enough rugs around his home yet to satisfy the urge to safely go barefoot. He padded his way to his bedroom, removing his shirt on the way, intent on curling up under the warm furs for a bit if nothing else. The shirt had just made it into the bin and a blanket replaced it in his hands when three solid knocks sounded. Z’rin frowned, not at all expecting company, and briefly considered pretending he wasn’t home. Given that he hadn’t been home for very long was likely what drew his visitor if they saw him return.
The blanket was set back on the bed and Z’rin went to the door, not minding that he was without a shirt. He was certain that everyone had seen him in less thanks to flights in random locations and simply swimming at the lake by Katila. With the assumption it was one of his friends that were likely involved in either of those situations, or even just a messenger, Z’rin opened the door with a smile and then hesitated in his casual greeting he was about to give.
N’mor? Now that was someone he wouldn’t have placed a bet on. It had been what; four months? No, closer to six, if his quick counting was accurate, and he had long given up on the bronzerider taking him up on the offer to come by for a visit. Then again, maybe it wasn’t a social call but he was being summoned for some reason. Z’rin did his best to hide his sudden paranoia of being in trouble and focused on the off chance that N’mor really did want to spend time with him.
“Hey! What brings you by, N’mor? Did you want to come in?” His smile brightened as he focused on the good in the situation and held the door open further as invitation. He was always happy to see a friend or someone that interested him.
