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!
28.Sep.12, 01:55 AM
For all that her figure didn’t show it, Jisra never turned down a meal if bubbly pies were involved. It hadn’t taken her long after arriving on the Southern Continent that bubbly pies made from Southern fruit were oh so much better than she’d ever tasted and her addiction had only doubled. With something close to a dimpled grin, she nodded at Seijin’s suggestion and listened intently as he began to speak of his time as a Candidate. Of course she’d been a Candidate herself, however she imagined that it was thoroughly different being that she was a woman. More than one rider had expressed their doubts that she would Impress a fighting dragon which was just as well for her as she had no desire to fight anything be it Thread, feline or a stupid drunk who didn’t know when to shut up. If anything she was far better suited to the background; mending and patching and soothing.
When Seijin confessed that he had his own reservations, the young Weaver woman frowned and turned to have him as he stood, basket clasped in front of her and her lower lip sticking out in the faintest of pouts. Her expression was a study of concern to be sure. His nervousness about Impression was understandable though she had faith that he would Impress. He still had several years left in which to find his dragon. What was more, he’d been dragon picked which meant something. They’d all been dragon picked. It was only a matter of time—though admittedly her own time was running out. “Seijin, that is all pointless worrying. You were chosen by a dragon. Dragons only chose those whom they see promise and potential in. If you were a waste of time, they would not have bothered bringing you here.”
It was a crazy, roundabout logical and exposed the woman’s almost blind faith in the dragon species as a whole. Smiling, she reached out and briefly touched his upper arm before returning her hand to the handle of her basket. The encouraging smile that curled her lips was short-lived as the Tanner asked a question of his own. For a moment she stared, dumbfounded then color rushed to her cheeks and she spun away in a swirl of brown skirts. That he would ask her…she pursed her lips and tried to muster up the proper indignation but it wouldn’t come. Instead she sighed and glanced over her shoulder. “Do not smile at me like that.”
Of course now that he’d uttered the question, she couldn’t seem to think of anything else. Whom did she prefer in the Weyr in regards to appearance? Of a certainty there were a great many handsome men though as she thought about it, she found herself biased to the dragonriders. Perhaps it was their connection with their dragons that so enhanced them? There was B’jin of course, but she’d discovered rather quickly that his only interest in her would be mildly friend and R’nd only liked her for her embroidery skills. There was the Bronze Weyrling Allendris, he was rather handsome and carried himself well. There were also a handful of others that she found herself appreciating and when she thought about it even more, she was surprised to find that at least half of the men she found attractive rode Bronze dragons. And of her mental list, she’d never actually met any of them officially; only observed them from afar. “There may be one or two, but I doubt that any of them notice me; which is fine.”
When Seijin confessed that he had his own reservations, the young Weaver woman frowned and turned to have him as he stood, basket clasped in front of her and her lower lip sticking out in the faintest of pouts. Her expression was a study of concern to be sure. His nervousness about Impression was understandable though she had faith that he would Impress. He still had several years left in which to find his dragon. What was more, he’d been dragon picked which meant something. They’d all been dragon picked. It was only a matter of time—though admittedly her own time was running out. “Seijin, that is all pointless worrying. You were chosen by a dragon. Dragons only chose those whom they see promise and potential in. If you were a waste of time, they would not have bothered bringing you here.”
It was a crazy, roundabout logical and exposed the woman’s almost blind faith in the dragon species as a whole. Smiling, she reached out and briefly touched his upper arm before returning her hand to the handle of her basket. The encouraging smile that curled her lips was short-lived as the Tanner asked a question of his own. For a moment she stared, dumbfounded then color rushed to her cheeks and she spun away in a swirl of brown skirts. That he would ask her…she pursed her lips and tried to muster up the proper indignation but it wouldn’t come. Instead she sighed and glanced over her shoulder. “Do not smile at me like that.”
Of course now that he’d uttered the question, she couldn’t seem to think of anything else. Whom did she prefer in the Weyr in regards to appearance? Of a certainty there were a great many handsome men though as she thought about it, she found herself biased to the dragonriders. Perhaps it was their connection with their dragons that so enhanced them? There was B’jin of course, but she’d discovered rather quickly that his only interest in her would be mildly friend and R’nd only liked her for her embroidery skills. There was the Bronze Weyrling Allendris, he was rather handsome and carried himself well. There were also a handful of others that she found herself appreciating and when she thought about it even more, she was surprised to find that at least half of the men she found attractive rode Bronze dragons. And of her mental list, she’d never actually met any of them officially; only observed them from afar. “There may be one or two, but I doubt that any of them notice me; which is fine.”
