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.Oct.13, 08:30 AM
R’nya had spent the majority of the day being pricked by pins and sewing needles by a grouchy little greenrider that had been tasked with altering the bronzerider’s gather wear on short notice. R’nya didn’t really expect any better, even if the brat was from Rhaedalyn’s class – the child apparently had a bee in his bonnet and was taking every opportunity to draw blood with the pins he was using to re-arrange the hems of the bronzerider’s jacket. It didn’t really occur to him that the pricks were more likely from his fidgeting, since R’nya wasn’t generally prone to fidgeting. It took forever, as far as the bronzerider was concerned, for the taskt o be completed. Apparently, the young greenrider felt about the same, because he was dismissed effectively.
R’nya bee lined for another bath, while Xyreith – laughing up a storm – made his way to the lake edge to entice children to wash him, since clearly R’nya had no intention of doing any such thing.
When he resurfaced, R’nya was particularly well dressed in a well-tailored suit of re-dyed black; the southern sun having previously bleached the fabric. The shirt he wore under it might have been hit and miss by most standards, if it were not a remarkable match for Xyreith’s bronze hide. A tarnished green, the shirt dipped into more coppery-bronzed shades towards the base. Dedicated stitching along the neckline was reminiscent of dragons twining through flight.
R’nya wasn’t sure if he were more self-conscious of the shirt he was wearing, or the reason for the gathering, but the bronzerider strode towards the main event with purposeful steps and his chin up, not displaying any indication of his ill ease. Even at the best of time, it was unwise to show weakness – but there was no place this was more true than the undercurrents of Katila! The population had already proved several times over it would sacrifice its own community members for the ‘betterment’ of all. He didn’t need to become a sacrifice.
My lady, the dragon’s tone was mocking as he copied both R’nya’s tone and style of greeting, the rich depth of his voice holding tendrils of amusement as he crept up behind Aradissicath, nostrils flared as he snorted in her face and eyes alight with humour. Great bronze wings ruffled as the dragon settled himself on his hindquarters and wrapped his tail neatly around his feet. Taking his gaze from Aradissicath, Xyreith turned it upon his human, who had opted to stop a few feet away, arms crossed and a subtle aura of amusement lingering around him as he watched Rhaedalyn beeline for the booze.
R’nya bee lined for another bath, while Xyreith – laughing up a storm – made his way to the lake edge to entice children to wash him, since clearly R’nya had no intention of doing any such thing.
When he resurfaced, R’nya was particularly well dressed in a well-tailored suit of re-dyed black; the southern sun having previously bleached the fabric. The shirt he wore under it might have been hit and miss by most standards, if it were not a remarkable match for Xyreith’s bronze hide. A tarnished green, the shirt dipped into more coppery-bronzed shades towards the base. Dedicated stitching along the neckline was reminiscent of dragons twining through flight.
R’nya wasn’t sure if he were more self-conscious of the shirt he was wearing, or the reason for the gathering, but the bronzerider strode towards the main event with purposeful steps and his chin up, not displaying any indication of his ill ease. Even at the best of time, it was unwise to show weakness – but there was no place this was more true than the undercurrents of Katila! The population had already proved several times over it would sacrifice its own community members for the ‘betterment’ of all. He didn’t need to become a sacrifice.
