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!
11.Jul.13, 09:50 AM
R’nya could not help it! A throaty laugh was released as Rhaedalyn’s hesitance was lost after stating maybe ‘one or two’ questions were floating around, and followed it up with a flood of enthusiastic demands. The mention of being their pimp caused the laugh to transform into a choke, the bronzerider coughing with wide eyes, shaking his head as he tried valiantly to regain control of his lungs. “That’s what they say,” R’nya allowed, the words gasped out and eyes a little glassy from unshed tears the coughing fit had brought on. He had not realised the girls had noticed that part of the gossip! Blue eyes sparkled mischievously. “It does no true harm, and it keeps them at bay.” The bronzerider shrugged. The first man to call one of his girls a whore, though, would end up with a broken jaw. R’nya would make sure of that!
“I did,” he answered the first question, leaving it purposefully without further details to see if the girl would come back to it. “Big,” he added in reply to the question about Fort Weyr, a smirk slowly gaining control of the corners of his lips. “That’s a pity!” It was growing, and he was fighting valiantly to keep his features expressionless. Damned be Xyreith and his desire to screw greens! “Maybe.” The smirk was winning, and then; “Yes.” The smile faltered as memories danced, and forgetting his impending game of enticing Rhaedalyn to ask more questions – clearly she had far too many roaming around that she had refrained from asking – R’nya struggled to figure out which one he would be able to answer and banish the memories, rather than encouraging them. After a few minutes of internal struggle, he gave in to the flood.
“No,” he murmured, frowning slightly, as he corrected himself. “I have not always been a protector of girls.” His gaze shifted to watch Rhaedalyn’s face, blue eyes serious as he studied her for a moment, before continuing quietly. He spoke slowly, each word carefully considered before he allowed it freedom. “Etralla was the first girl I ever spent much time around; I was Weyr-raised.” His mother was a drudge; she did not have the time to raise a child, not when the Weyr at large could raise him, and R’nya had no female siblings that he knew – he knew he had them, he knew not who they were. “Xyreith won Cerith’s maiden flight before our first year of Weyrlinghood was through.”
He leaned into the couch more, resting his cheek against the backrest as he watched Rhaedalyn, only half seeing the girl. “Holder bred, she’d Impressed at her first standing, and was very hide-bound. She demanded to be courted, even though Weyrlife doesn’t work like that.” R’nya paused, shifting uncomfortably. “I did it, because I thought it was funny, and…” He grimaced, refusing to meet Rhaedalyn’s eyes, “we had bets on how soon I could get her into bed again.” He gave a dry, sour snort of laughter that held no real humour. “I won her over fast enough,” amusement drifted back into his tones. “But she would not sleep with me until after the Hatching. I had rather a lot of marks on betting before the hatching. She was a very clever girl…”
He trailed into silence, quietly remembering the odd antics Etralla had gotten up to, and the strange Holder customs she had taught him. He had learned a lot, not the least of which was treating women with respect, and how to string a decent sentence together! She had taught him how to listen to gossip, and how to make the most of blending into the shadows; to be somewhere without appearing to be there, a talent she used often with her apparently airheaded personality. He had been pleasantly surprised by the sharp personality residing under the façade of girlish ignorance.
“You may ask more questions,” r’nya murmured quietly as Xyreith shifted uncomfortably outside, and stood up, stepping over Aradissicath with great care to pace down the side of the hut, eyes a myriad of discomforted colours. R’nya’s emotions and memories were not kept from Xyreith, who remembered because his rider did. The refreshed emotions, the vivid pictures, and the deep emotions it brought up within him from times past were uncomfortable, and Xyreith whined lowly, wings half extended as he did a lap around the hut, returning to the area where Aradissicath was curled up, just as agitated as when he had started.
It is alright. R’nya’s thought was distracted, and coated in memories.Is it? Xyreith returned, his tone anxious as he swayed from foot to foot.
“I did,” he answered the first question, leaving it purposefully without further details to see if the girl would come back to it. “Big,” he added in reply to the question about Fort Weyr, a smirk slowly gaining control of the corners of his lips. “That’s a pity!” It was growing, and he was fighting valiantly to keep his features expressionless. Damned be Xyreith and his desire to screw greens! “Maybe.” The smirk was winning, and then; “Yes.” The smile faltered as memories danced, and forgetting his impending game of enticing Rhaedalyn to ask more questions – clearly she had far too many roaming around that she had refrained from asking – R’nya struggled to figure out which one he would be able to answer and banish the memories, rather than encouraging them. After a few minutes of internal struggle, he gave in to the flood.
“No,” he murmured, frowning slightly, as he corrected himself. “I have not always been a protector of girls.” His gaze shifted to watch Rhaedalyn’s face, blue eyes serious as he studied her for a moment, before continuing quietly. He spoke slowly, each word carefully considered before he allowed it freedom. “Etralla was the first girl I ever spent much time around; I was Weyr-raised.” His mother was a drudge; she did not have the time to raise a child, not when the Weyr at large could raise him, and R’nya had no female siblings that he knew – he knew he had them, he knew not who they were. “Xyreith won Cerith’s maiden flight before our first year of Weyrlinghood was through.”
He leaned into the couch more, resting his cheek against the backrest as he watched Rhaedalyn, only half seeing the girl. “Holder bred, she’d Impressed at her first standing, and was very hide-bound. She demanded to be courted, even though Weyrlife doesn’t work like that.” R’nya paused, shifting uncomfortably. “I did it, because I thought it was funny, and…” He grimaced, refusing to meet Rhaedalyn’s eyes, “we had bets on how soon I could get her into bed again.” He gave a dry, sour snort of laughter that held no real humour. “I won her over fast enough,” amusement drifted back into his tones. “But she would not sleep with me until after the Hatching. I had rather a lot of marks on betting before the hatching. She was a very clever girl…”
He trailed into silence, quietly remembering the odd antics Etralla had gotten up to, and the strange Holder customs she had taught him. He had learned a lot, not the least of which was treating women with respect, and how to string a decent sentence together! She had taught him how to listen to gossip, and how to make the most of blending into the shadows; to be somewhere without appearing to be there, a talent she used often with her apparently airheaded personality. He had been pleasantly surprised by the sharp personality residing under the façade of girlish ignorance.
“You may ask more questions,” r’nya murmured quietly as Xyreith shifted uncomfortably outside, and stood up, stepping over Aradissicath with great care to pace down the side of the hut, eyes a myriad of discomforted colours. R’nya’s emotions and memories were not kept from Xyreith, who remembered because his rider did. The refreshed emotions, the vivid pictures, and the deep emotions it brought up within him from times past were uncomfortable, and Xyreith whined lowly, wings half extended as he did a lap around the hut, returning to the area where Aradissicath was curled up, just as agitated as when he had started.
It is alright. R’nya’s thought was distracted, and coated in memories.
