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.Apr.12, 02:10 PM
Tal looked questioningly at B'jin. He didn't doubt for a moment that B'jin would indeed pick him up and carry him. He also didn't doubt his capacity to panic if that came to pass. Talian hated being manhandled, even more after the unfortunate incident in the spring, and the thought of B'jin doing it smelled like treason. He just frowned, shaking his head slowly as he kept writing.
"They are, though," he argued, unmoving in his conviction. He had no desire to approach Charath again any time soon. Their encounter hadn't been terrible, but Talian figured if he stayed away while she matured a bit more, perhaps he was less likely to be forcibly ejected from their lives like Nemall reportedly had been.
He didn't much care for having her nature pointed out to him, either. It was plainly obvious that Charath was another miserable wherry, just as Tal had come to assume all green dragons were. It didn't bode well for his friendship with Eri. He looked uncomfortable at the mention of Charath, unconscious of his own expression, and just shook his head again. Life was a mess.
He frowned pointedly at the next part. "B'jin? You honestly think I would try to hurt Larrikith?" he asked, tone amazingly dry and expression a blend of aggravation and disbelief. He waved his paper around a bit. "With a quill and a piece of paper? I must be quite well trained in the art of stabbing things with fragile objects," he grumbled.
This was an unfortunate side effect of his time at Katila. As he tried to leave his sulky side behind, it was being replaced with a markedly bitter one. He was still Talian though, so his words were lacking in force. It was still probably the first sarcastic quip B'jin would have ever heard from the boy. Talian reached irritably for the mug of klah on the table and took an uncomfortably long drink. So amazing!
Tal managed to suppress a shudder as Larrikith spoke to him. He was too resigned to her invasions to think ugly thoughts at her anymore, so he just accepted it, letting her walk all over him like everyone else in that cursed place did. At least she wasn't saying anything terrible this time. It even seemed to have an indirect calming effect on the boy; he really did have a hard time telling when B'jin was being serious sometimes.
He finally finished his note, tearing it away and handing it to B'jin. "There you are. It's a note from me saying you have a particularly interesting medical history and require my personal attention. They won't ask about your condition though, I promise...patient confidentiality."
A sweet smile replaced his previously harsh expression. He suddenly felt very tired. "That way, you won't get turned away anymore." Maybe they wouldn't have to go without seeing each other for so long again.
Tal smiled, though the ghost of discomfort still lingered on his face, and turned to a nearby counter to retrieve some medical tools. "So, we need to get those stitches out, right?" he asked, tone lightening a bit. He was optimistic about the outcome, though whether or not scars remained might depend on how badly the flight (and the other healer0 had screwed things up.
"They are, though," he argued, unmoving in his conviction. He had no desire to approach Charath again any time soon. Their encounter hadn't been terrible, but Talian figured if he stayed away while she matured a bit more, perhaps he was less likely to be forcibly ejected from their lives like Nemall reportedly had been.
He didn't much care for having her nature pointed out to him, either. It was plainly obvious that Charath was another miserable wherry, just as Tal had come to assume all green dragons were. It didn't bode well for his friendship with Eri. He looked uncomfortable at the mention of Charath, unconscious of his own expression, and just shook his head again. Life was a mess.
He frowned pointedly at the next part. "B'jin? You honestly think I would try to hurt Larrikith?" he asked, tone amazingly dry and expression a blend of aggravation and disbelief. He waved his paper around a bit. "With a quill and a piece of paper? I must be quite well trained in the art of stabbing things with fragile objects," he grumbled.
This was an unfortunate side effect of his time at Katila. As he tried to leave his sulky side behind, it was being replaced with a markedly bitter one. He was still Talian though, so his words were lacking in force. It was still probably the first sarcastic quip B'jin would have ever heard from the boy. Talian reached irritably for the mug of klah on the table and took an uncomfortably long drink. So amazing!
Tal managed to suppress a shudder as Larrikith spoke to him. He was too resigned to her invasions to think ugly thoughts at her anymore, so he just accepted it, letting her walk all over him like everyone else in that cursed place did. At least she wasn't saying anything terrible this time. It even seemed to have an indirect calming effect on the boy; he really did have a hard time telling when B'jin was being serious sometimes.
He finally finished his note, tearing it away and handing it to B'jin. "There you are. It's a note from me saying you have a particularly interesting medical history and require my personal attention. They won't ask about your condition though, I promise...patient confidentiality."
A sweet smile replaced his previously harsh expression. He suddenly felt very tired. "That way, you won't get turned away anymore." Maybe they wouldn't have to go without seeing each other for so long again.
Tal smiled, though the ghost of discomfort still lingered on his face, and turned to a nearby counter to retrieve some medical tools. "So, we need to get those stitches out, right?" he asked, tone lightening a bit. He was optimistic about the outcome, though whether or not scars remained might depend on how badly the flight (and the other healer0 had screwed things up.
