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!
14.Apr.12, 06:37 PM
Riding a dragon was not in the Harper Education Manual. In the North, it was a well-known fact that dragons were extinct- even if in the South it seemed that rumors of their demise had been greatly exaggerated. Jada's training had consisted of the education of any Harper worth their salt, with a focus on how to deal with children- not how to survive in a political arena. What she knew about the rights of authority had been built into her from the viewpoint of someone who wouldn't have it for a good long time. Masters usually took years to get there, and even then their authority wasn't anything more than what was provided them by the Master of the craft.
Still. Jada wanted to get this right.
She had never been anything close to punctual, or showing a leadership role. She led her children through becoming their friend, through making them love her for her mistakes. That had never worked on adults. They called her irresponsible, told her she had poor time management, held her back from Walking the Tables when she had been ready for a turn or more. They told her she was weak, childish, prudish, would never amount to anything, and she rolled over backwards to try and make them happy, because proving them right was easier and more productive than trying to dig in her heels and fight anything out. She saw the Weyrleader draw in a breath, but Krypth's appearance...
Dealing with Krypth was a good way for the Harper to hide her face and the thoughts that were writing themselves clear as day across her face. "I'm sorry Ronarth." she told the bronze, who was trying to stick his nose in the Krypth-sized hole in the window. How had her dragon not gotten stuck? The dragonet was getting much too big, even at only a few sevendays, to have so easily tumbled in through the window! She glanced to D'ren, to the faint tightness in his face, and hurried to try and accommodate his will. Uh oh, uh oh! He might be saying not to worry, but the face was saying something different, if only in the sheer blandness she saw there. No one was that unaffected by something like this! "I'll get her out at once, Weyrlea-"
No! Krypth's wings flared, and her little tail swung out unhappily. She stretched out her neck, snaking it around Jada and glaring up at D'ren from between her rider's legs. As though it made her cuter, somehow, standing in the mess that she'd made. It wasn't working on Jada, who was growing immune to cuteness after her experience with children, but maybe it would work on softening the grizzling Weyrleader. Anything you can say to her can be said to me! She needs me! Her voice was to D'ren only, leaving her rider completely out of the loop, even if Jada was unaware of the fact. Krypth thought nothing of doing what she had to.
Sheer stubbornness. Was Krypth sure she hadn't Impressed Indivara?
"Krypth," Jada tried cajoling, will you-
No!
"Krypth!" Still sweet, pleading. "Come, now!"
No!
"Krypth!"
No!
"Get out!" she grabbed the dragonet by the headknobs, wincing as her hands tried to reject her attempt at a grab, and dug her foot in (carefully) right under her tail. Nudging her in the rump. The dragonet creeled, but followed where the grip led. The process was slow, with Krypth digging in her heels and haunches, and Jada dragging and kicking her more than commanding her. All until the end, when in sheer frustration, Jada commanded, "Get out now, Krypth!" It was probably the most forceful Jada had been with her dragon. With one little cry, Krypth crossed the threshold and turned back, like a puppy- until Jada slammed D'ren's door in her golden face. "Ronarth, do you mind blocking the window, please? If she tries to get back in, she may hurt herself on the broken glass."
No! came the protest. (Oddly, however, Jada was able to feel a little pleasure. What on earth was Krypth thinking? Still, the dragonet held her own counsel.)
She almost collapsed across from the Weyrleader, exhaustion and annoyance written clearly across her reddened face. Her hands trembled visibly, and when she went for the klah, she couldn't get her hands to unfold to wrap around the cup, so she held them against it, letting the warmth flood her muscles. "I am so glad I don't have much of anything. And I am glad that she's growing so fast, but I can see her now, demanding that our hut be big enough for the two of us." That would be absolutely ridiculous, but Krypth had already been talking about how unacceptable it was that she would have to live outside...
D'ren started speaking, and Jada instinctively, obediently, snapped to attention until he went for his shirt, unbuttoning it. What?! Weyrling- oh. oh. A- burn scar? It wasn't very attractive, and she could see why he kept it hidden. But how much must it have hurt, to still be scarred there even now, when he had been injured on the first day of flaming practice? That would be almost half a turn to a full turn down the road for her class, but was many turns in the past for the man in front of her. Was it pity? Fear?
Grateful that she wouldn't be in that situation? "Does it still hurt?" she asked instead, curious. Not knowing just how much it affected Ronarth, she didn't think to keep her voice down the way the Weyrleader had. It looked like it would hurt. It was still a burn scar- or a series of them- her question, she thought too late, was rather naive and idiotic.
Still. Jada wanted to get this right.
She had never been anything close to punctual, or showing a leadership role. She led her children through becoming their friend, through making them love her for her mistakes. That had never worked on adults. They called her irresponsible, told her she had poor time management, held her back from Walking the Tables when she had been ready for a turn or more. They told her she was weak, childish, prudish, would never amount to anything, and she rolled over backwards to try and make them happy, because proving them right was easier and more productive than trying to dig in her heels and fight anything out. She saw the Weyrleader draw in a breath, but Krypth's appearance...
Dealing with Krypth was a good way for the Harper to hide her face and the thoughts that were writing themselves clear as day across her face. "I'm sorry Ronarth." she told the bronze, who was trying to stick his nose in the Krypth-sized hole in the window. How had her dragon not gotten stuck? The dragonet was getting much too big, even at only a few sevendays, to have so easily tumbled in through the window! She glanced to D'ren, to the faint tightness in his face, and hurried to try and accommodate his will. Uh oh, uh oh! He might be saying not to worry, but the face was saying something different, if only in the sheer blandness she saw there. No one was that unaffected by something like this! "I'll get her out at once, Weyrlea-"
No! Krypth's wings flared, and her little tail swung out unhappily. She stretched out her neck, snaking it around Jada and glaring up at D'ren from between her rider's legs. As though it made her cuter, somehow, standing in the mess that she'd made. It wasn't working on Jada, who was growing immune to cuteness after her experience with children, but maybe it would work on softening the grizzling Weyrleader. Anything you can say to her can be said to me! She needs me! Her voice was to D'ren only, leaving her rider completely out of the loop, even if Jada was unaware of the fact. Krypth thought nothing of doing what she had to.
Sheer stubbornness. Was Krypth sure she hadn't Impressed Indivara?
"Krypth," Jada tried cajoling, will you-
No!
"Krypth!" Still sweet, pleading. "Come, now!"
No!
"Krypth!"
No!
"Get out!" she grabbed the dragonet by the headknobs, wincing as her hands tried to reject her attempt at a grab, and dug her foot in (carefully) right under her tail. Nudging her in the rump. The dragonet creeled, but followed where the grip led. The process was slow, with Krypth digging in her heels and haunches, and Jada dragging and kicking her more than commanding her. All until the end, when in sheer frustration, Jada commanded, "Get out now, Krypth!" It was probably the most forceful Jada had been with her dragon. With one little cry, Krypth crossed the threshold and turned back, like a puppy- until Jada slammed D'ren's door in her golden face. "Ronarth, do you mind blocking the window, please? If she tries to get back in, she may hurt herself on the broken glass."
No! came the protest. (Oddly, however, Jada was able to feel a little pleasure. What on earth was Krypth thinking? Still, the dragonet held her own counsel.)
She almost collapsed across from the Weyrleader, exhaustion and annoyance written clearly across her reddened face. Her hands trembled visibly, and when she went for the klah, she couldn't get her hands to unfold to wrap around the cup, so she held them against it, letting the warmth flood her muscles. "I am so glad I don't have much of anything. And I am glad that she's growing so fast, but I can see her now, demanding that our hut be big enough for the two of us." That would be absolutely ridiculous, but Krypth had already been talking about how unacceptable it was that she would have to live outside...
D'ren started speaking, and Jada instinctively, obediently, snapped to attention until he went for his shirt, unbuttoning it. What?! Weyrling- oh. oh. A- burn scar? It wasn't very attractive, and she could see why he kept it hidden. But how much must it have hurt, to still be scarred there even now, when he had been injured on the first day of flaming practice? That would be almost half a turn to a full turn down the road for her class, but was many turns in the past for the man in front of her. Was it pity? Fear?
Grateful that she wouldn't be in that situation? "Does it still hurt?" she asked instead, curious. Not knowing just how much it affected Ronarth, she didn't think to keep her voice down the way the Weyrleader had. It looked like it would hurt. It was still a burn scar- or a series of them- her question, she thought too late, was rather naive and idiotic.
