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!
21.Jan.12, 06:45 AM
B'jin was less than enthusiastic as he exited the Isle hut and made his way out to join Larrikith as the dragon ambled back up from the shore line; she'd gone back into the water when B'jin was taking Talian to his room. Salt water dripping down her well rounded form, the little dragon approached her rider with much more enthusiasm.
D'ren is waiting, she said cheerfully, extending her wings and giving them a flutter to dispel water droplets. B'jin frowned slightly and his shoulders slumped for a moment. Carefully, he twirled the tube of parchment in his hands, B'jin paused sadly for a moment, terrified to continue - but more afraid not to. Sighing, he swung up onto Larrikith's back, grimacing in disgust at the wet leathers.
"Wonderful. Now I'll get scolded for not taking care of my gear too!" B'jin grumbled, very out of character, and sighing, swung down again. "Here, let's take those off. I'm not going to have you in wet gear when we get over to D'ren's hut." With Larrikith's assistance, B'jin quickly tugged all the wet leather off the dragon, and lugged it inside the entrance way. Dumping it, he promised himself he'd come and get it later, once it was dry (assuming the young men and women on the Isle didn't destroy it) and give it a thorough oil. Or he'd end up making new ones, but hunting without leathers was difficult and dangerous - but not quite as much as doing so with cracked leather.
Can we go yet? Larrikith snapped, irritated by the constant delaying. Great Faranth you're worse than a Weyrlingmaster delaying between!
That startled a laugh out of B'jin, and he shook himself as he swung once more aboard his dragon, aware of a few Isle-bound watching with varying degrees of interest.
"Okay, love, let's go."
Finally! Spreading her wings, Larrikith pushed off strongly and shot up into the air, her green wings pressing down strongly to catch her weight above the ground, and in a beautiful display of gravity defiance, they climbed into the air. Turning carefully on a wingtip, Larrikith shot off in the direction of Katila Weyr.
That depends on one's definition of 'good', Ronarth, Larrikith deadpanned as she carefully adjusted her body to land lightly in a gap between D'ren's personal hut and those that surrounded it. Fluttering her wings, she settled them on her back and sat down like a feline, looking very irritable. Despite her continual blaming of B'jin, Larrikith was well aware of the fact that if she had dug enough in the young man's mind, she would have discovered both his rank, and his apparent lack of a stable mind.
B'jin slid down off his dragon, and cautiously approached the doorway. He paused, almost dramatically, though his expression looked like he was about to be sick, and tapped almost too lightly to count as a knock on it. After a split second, he knocked a little louder and carefully opened the door, peering in timidly before slipping through the small crack and closing it behind him. Stepping forward cautiously, B'jin approached D'ren, still looking slightly terrified.
"D'ren? We may have an issue." He was, however, proud that his voice came out clear and strong as he stood near trembling before the Weyrleader. This would not be fun.
D'ren is waiting, she said cheerfully, extending her wings and giving them a flutter to dispel water droplets. B'jin frowned slightly and his shoulders slumped for a moment. Carefully, he twirled the tube of parchment in his hands, B'jin paused sadly for a moment, terrified to continue - but more afraid not to. Sighing, he swung up onto Larrikith's back, grimacing in disgust at the wet leathers.
"Wonderful. Now I'll get scolded for not taking care of my gear too!" B'jin grumbled, very out of character, and sighing, swung down again. "Here, let's take those off. I'm not going to have you in wet gear when we get over to D'ren's hut." With Larrikith's assistance, B'jin quickly tugged all the wet leather off the dragon, and lugged it inside the entrance way. Dumping it, he promised himself he'd come and get it later, once it was dry (assuming the young men and women on the Isle didn't destroy it) and give it a thorough oil. Or he'd end up making new ones, but hunting without leathers was difficult and dangerous - but not quite as much as doing so with cracked leather.
Can we go yet? Larrikith snapped, irritated by the constant delaying. Great Faranth you're worse than a Weyrlingmaster delaying between!
That startled a laugh out of B'jin, and he shook himself as he swung once more aboard his dragon, aware of a few Isle-bound watching with varying degrees of interest.
"Okay, love, let's go."
Finally! Spreading her wings, Larrikith pushed off strongly and shot up into the air, her green wings pressing down strongly to catch her weight above the ground, and in a beautiful display of gravity defiance, they climbed into the air. Turning carefully on a wingtip, Larrikith shot off in the direction of Katila Weyr.
That depends on one's definition of 'good', Ronarth, Larrikith deadpanned as she carefully adjusted her body to land lightly in a gap between D'ren's personal hut and those that surrounded it. Fluttering her wings, she settled them on her back and sat down like a feline, looking very irritable. Despite her continual blaming of B'jin, Larrikith was well aware of the fact that if she had dug enough in the young man's mind, she would have discovered both his rank, and his apparent lack of a stable mind.
B'jin slid down off his dragon, and cautiously approached the doorway. He paused, almost dramatically, though his expression looked like he was about to be sick, and tapped almost too lightly to count as a knock on it. After a split second, he knocked a little louder and carefully opened the door, peering in timidly before slipping through the small crack and closing it behind him. Stepping forward cautiously, B'jin approached D'ren, still looking slightly terrified.
"D'ren? We may have an issue." He was, however, proud that his voice came out clear and strong as he stood near trembling before the Weyrleader. This would not be fun.
