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!
24.Feb.19, 03:16 AM
He had completely forgotten about wings and feet! If it had been up to him, they would have ended up with a snake that looked like it ate a boulder—or was smushed by one. This was another reason why F’drel was so good at creating things in the snow! R’dal loved the little feet that stuck out the front but he had no idea how to mimic that with the hind legs and figured they could get away with not having them. Or wings, it seemed, as the greenrider attempted to make something that resembled a wing. R’dal stopped making eggs and considered the problem, wondering if they could find sticks and ask the Lord and Lady if they had any sheets they could borrow and then drape them over the sticks to create a wing fanned out, sheltering the eggs.
His mouth opened to suggest it and then promptly shut again. One thing that sucked about not being in the same Weyr as his Weyrleader dad was that he got the lecture to behave twice. R’nya’s at least wasn’t directed at him, but an overall list of rules and a reminder of manners was always given before he allowed his residents to mingle with Holders and alcohol. M’ris was pretty relaxed most of the time but he gave the same sort of speech before Gathers and often did it as a dad when he spotted R’dal before or during the event. It kind of sucked but R’dal was old enough to know that a lot of people took appearances and behaviour seriously and he never wanted to disappoint his dad either.
So he stayed quiet, thinking F’drel’s attempt to make the idea of a wing have a starting point with the finish line being in the imagination of the beholder was perfect. He said as much when F’drel joined him on the ground, “told you that you were creative,” he gave his large boxy grin to his friend and resisted the urge to give him another hug—though that was mostly due to a few eggs between them and his hands full of snow starting the next one.
Once they had constructed a decent sized clutch for their chubby gold to guard, R’dal stayed sitting in the snow, admiring their work and deciding that playing in the snow was a lot of fun. “I liked growing up in Katila where we got to play in the forest and sometimes day trip to the lake, but I see how much we missed out on as well by not getting snow. Not that I even knew what it was, even when a Northerner would explain it. Those of us born in Katila had never seen a horse either until a few turns ago!” He turned wide, shocked eyes on F’drel as he remembered the first time he saw one with a group of friends. Someone thought they were small, he thought they were large, but they all agreed horses were weird. What was the point in having something to ride if it didn’t have wings or talk?
As his gaze swept out across the open field where some humans and dragons played, R’dal started to reach into a pocket to pull out his little pouch of emergency dried berries to snack on. Sitting there by their snow dragon while others played around them reminded him of the night he met F’drel, though the snow was sand and the playing wasn’t quite so innocent that night. But he stopped, leaving the berries alone as he got to his feet instead, extending a hand to help F’drel up. “Wanna get a hot chocolate with me?” He had to admit that his bum was getting a bit numb and sitting by a fire while sipping a hot beverage sounded nice right then.
His mouth opened to suggest it and then promptly shut again. One thing that sucked about not being in the same Weyr as his Weyrleader dad was that he got the lecture to behave twice. R’nya’s at least wasn’t directed at him, but an overall list of rules and a reminder of manners was always given before he allowed his residents to mingle with Holders and alcohol. M’ris was pretty relaxed most of the time but he gave the same sort of speech before Gathers and often did it as a dad when he spotted R’dal before or during the event. It kind of sucked but R’dal was old enough to know that a lot of people took appearances and behaviour seriously and he never wanted to disappoint his dad either.
So he stayed quiet, thinking F’drel’s attempt to make the idea of a wing have a starting point with the finish line being in the imagination of the beholder was perfect. He said as much when F’drel joined him on the ground, “told you that you were creative,” he gave his large boxy grin to his friend and resisted the urge to give him another hug—though that was mostly due to a few eggs between them and his hands full of snow starting the next one.
Once they had constructed a decent sized clutch for their chubby gold to guard, R’dal stayed sitting in the snow, admiring their work and deciding that playing in the snow was a lot of fun. “I liked growing up in Katila where we got to play in the forest and sometimes day trip to the lake, but I see how much we missed out on as well by not getting snow. Not that I even knew what it was, even when a Northerner would explain it. Those of us born in Katila had never seen a horse either until a few turns ago!” He turned wide, shocked eyes on F’drel as he remembered the first time he saw one with a group of friends. Someone thought they were small, he thought they were large, but they all agreed horses were weird. What was the point in having something to ride if it didn’t have wings or talk?
As his gaze swept out across the open field where some humans and dragons played, R’dal started to reach into a pocket to pull out his little pouch of emergency dried berries to snack on. Sitting there by their snow dragon while others played around them reminded him of the night he met F’drel, though the snow was sand and the playing wasn’t quite so innocent that night. But he stopped, leaving the berries alone as he got to his feet instead, extending a hand to help F’drel up. “Wanna get a hot chocolate with me?” He had to admit that his bum was getting a bit numb and sitting by a fire while sipping a hot beverage sounded nice right then.
