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!
30.Dec.13, 04:40 AM
What a miserable way to end an otherwise beautiful evening. It was all a blur to I'shan, who saw nothing around him but smoke and blurry outlines of people, as if the disaster were still going on. He was distantly aware of the basics of the event: he'd been pulled from Ceilidhe's hut by some unknown arm, carried away to some unknown place, and given some unknown drug to keep him calm while the healers tried their best to save him. He remembered seeing T'lian, the little brownrider, shouting something about lungs and shrapnel. He remembered hearing Ilveriath's warm, soothing voice caressing his mind. He'd been too dizzy and confused to detect the telltale hint of worry that went along with it. He remembered his fire lizards pressing close to him, so close that the healers had to pick them up and swat them out of the way.
It was good to know they were still there. They hadn't left him. Ilveriath hadn't left him, either. But what of everyone else? What about R'nd? B'jin? Rhaedalyn? Something told him that he would know if something had happened, but in his distant and fractured state, he could not help but pine for them and fear the worst. What if they had been the ones stuck under the roof of that hut, drowning in mud? The very notion made him sick.
After days of fevers and drug-induced stupor, the little bluerider, so frail in appearance and demeanor, was finally starting to come around. He remembered so little of the past days. He remembered being moved around very carefully. He remembered a lot of noise. He remembered the cries of the injured and wails of mourning. How long had it been? Two weeks? Three? Or was his mind playing tricks on him. For all he knew, it could be the very next day.
His eyes fluttered open and he looked around. His room was small and unfinished, and everything smelled like wet earth and unpleasant, muddled medicines. Was this the new healer hall? A makeshift infirmary? Who knew. All he knew was that he was dizzy, hungry, and in so much pain. He groaned and tried to lift his head, but he found himself much too weak.
Ilv? We made it he whispered.
We did the dragon replied sweetly. I'shan could hear a weight dropping off of the beast's shoulders. They have kept you sound asleep, my dear. It was done for your comfort. The little ones have stood watch over you, and the healers are never far. They feared for your life, but now they say that you shall make it. I knew you would, though. You are stronger than you seem
I'shan swallowed hard and thought back on the night of the disaster. He could see the roof falling down. He could hear his own cry for help, followed by the crushing weight. His chest hurt just thinking about it. Still, after moments of dour reflection, he conjured a weak and pitiful laugh. I am, aren't I?
He was, and he was thankful. He closed his eyes again and sighed, only to find the action surprisingly painful. It felt like someone had twisted a knife in his chest.
Easy, love Ilveriath whispered. ...Be still and save your breath. Someone is coming to see you
I'shan gritted his teeth through the pain and summoned a smile. Someone was coming to see him? He lifted his head as best he could and glanced hopefully towards the door.
It was good to know they were still there. They hadn't left him. Ilveriath hadn't left him, either. But what of everyone else? What about R'nd? B'jin? Rhaedalyn? Something told him that he would know if something had happened, but in his distant and fractured state, he could not help but pine for them and fear the worst. What if they had been the ones stuck under the roof of that hut, drowning in mud? The very notion made him sick.
After days of fevers and drug-induced stupor, the little bluerider, so frail in appearance and demeanor, was finally starting to come around. He remembered so little of the past days. He remembered being moved around very carefully. He remembered a lot of noise. He remembered the cries of the injured and wails of mourning. How long had it been? Two weeks? Three? Or was his mind playing tricks on him. For all he knew, it could be the very next day.
His eyes fluttered open and he looked around. His room was small and unfinished, and everything smelled like wet earth and unpleasant, muddled medicines. Was this the new healer hall? A makeshift infirmary? Who knew. All he knew was that he was dizzy, hungry, and in so much pain. He groaned and tried to lift his head, but he found himself much too weak.
Ilv? We made it he whispered.
I'shan swallowed hard and thought back on the night of the disaster. He could see the roof falling down. He could hear his own cry for help, followed by the crushing weight. His chest hurt just thinking about it. Still, after moments of dour reflection, he conjured a weak and pitiful laugh. I am, aren't I?
He was, and he was thankful. He closed his eyes again and sighed, only to find the action surprisingly painful. It felt like someone had twisted a knife in his chest.
I'shan gritted his teeth through the pain and summoned a smile. Someone was coming to see him? He lifted his head as best he could and glanced hopefully towards the door.
