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!
22.May.18, 01:12 AM
T’ryn grinned at N’mor’s admission to numbweed. He had figured it out some time ago that B’jin was allergic through various reasons but had never commented on it or asked his friend for confirmation. It wasn’t like he really needed to know but it did amuse him that N’mor rarely used it unless absolutely necessary. Maybe that was just a fear created from growing up that if he had any on him and then hugged his dad that it would transfer over and create a crisis. But since N’mor didn’t plan ahead in such areas, T’ryn decided it was a good thing that he was the strategist between the two of them and over planned for any random occurrence.
He nodded when his friend tried to describe what being back in Katila was like. He could see how it would feel like that and had a feeling a lot of the older riders felt the same way about returning North. He knew some of them purposely went to a different Weyr than their home one when it opened up to avoid memories and how different it was now. He suspected that was partly why his dad didn’t return to his home Hold either. Although R’nd and his brother didn’t really get along so that was probably a major factor as well. But his sister’s Hold was new to him and T’ryn could visibly see R’nd relax and enjoy himself more when there than back home where memories laid and his dad had passed away.
T’ryn allowed himself to get lost in such thoughts for a bit as they continued following the dragons further into the forest, his gaze sometimes wandering around them to help hunt. When Syrendryth finally stopped and tensed as he tilted his head as if listening, T’ryn finally pulled out an arrow and nocked it, ready to lift the bow and aim at the first sign of that beautiful hide. He knew the dragons would still do most of the work and gleefully chase after the felines as they fled, but he liked archery and figured a quick moving target would be good practice at keeping his skills honed as he tracked any cats fleeing away from the dragons’ path. He was proud of his skills and had a lot of faith in his accuracy, but T’ryn still couldn’t bring himself to aim in the direction of the dragons unless they were in absolute trouble. He’d never forgive himself if he hit either of them.
A pride is not far, in that direction. Are you ready, Rhezalth? Syrendryth indicated the direction with a bob of his head as his smooth voice filtered through the minds of everyone in their small group. He rarely spoke to anyone outside of T’ryn and while he did sometimes include N’mor in conversations, it still wasn’t as frequent as the way Rhezalth spoke to T’ryn. He just didn’t feel the need to share with more than was necessary.
He nodded when his friend tried to describe what being back in Katila was like. He could see how it would feel like that and had a feeling a lot of the older riders felt the same way about returning North. He knew some of them purposely went to a different Weyr than their home one when it opened up to avoid memories and how different it was now. He suspected that was partly why his dad didn’t return to his home Hold either. Although R’nd and his brother didn’t really get along so that was probably a major factor as well. But his sister’s Hold was new to him and T’ryn could visibly see R’nd relax and enjoy himself more when there than back home where memories laid and his dad had passed away.
T’ryn allowed himself to get lost in such thoughts for a bit as they continued following the dragons further into the forest, his gaze sometimes wandering around them to help hunt. When Syrendryth finally stopped and tensed as he tilted his head as if listening, T’ryn finally pulled out an arrow and nocked it, ready to lift the bow and aim at the first sign of that beautiful hide. He knew the dragons would still do most of the work and gleefully chase after the felines as they fled, but he liked archery and figured a quick moving target would be good practice at keeping his skills honed as he tracked any cats fleeing away from the dragons’ path. He was proud of his skills and had a lot of faith in his accuracy, but T’ryn still couldn’t bring himself to aim in the direction of the dragons unless they were in absolute trouble. He’d never forgive himself if he hit either of them.
