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.Jan.20, 07:13 AM
N’mor came to with the drowsy, self-satisfied feeling born of a dragon who had gotten thoroughly fucked, and he groaned softly to himself, lifting his hand to rub his face; the patchy nature of his stubble indicated he’d been interrupted while shaving, and N’mor flailed around mentally to find the memories of what he’d been up to before ending up in what was apparently a rather comfortable bed. He wasn’t even sure where he was, which was confusing all on its own. Something told him he wasn’t at home in Ista, but that didn’t explain why he had been mid-shave in… whatever location he was at now. Rhezalth was no help, as the great lump of a bronze was curled up around his golden beauty, fast asleep and as irritated as N’mor was, he was disinclined to rouse his beast.
Turning his head as he lowered his hand to his stomach, N’mor found himself frowning at his sleeping bedmate; her brown hair was in a mess of tangles across her face and pillow, which N’mor was rather impressed by since she didn’t really have very long hair. Her puffy lips indicated there’d been a lot of mouth activity prompted by their dragons, and N’mor’s nose scrunched up just slightly. Why did his damned dragon have to be obsessed with golds? Why couldn’t he find a nice green mate that was bonded to a nice man?
Sighing to himself, N’mor sat up and took his part of the sheet with him, settling it over his lap and resting his chin in his palm. He shifted his balance carefully, and poked Helyna with his toes, before retracting his foot and watching her curiously. This was Rhezath’s third gold win, and his second with this particular pair. N’mor was tempted to bolt while she was still sleeping, but unlike their previous little get-together, this one was in the middle of the Weyr, and N’mor knew there would be no mistaking who had sired the clutch. Not that he hadn’t claimed the last clutch…. Eventually. But there would be none of that now, if only because N’mor had been thoroughly berated for his behaviour last time, which was kind of unfair. He had only been a child, and it wasn’t like Vaelya had been particularly insightful in post-flight behaviour. Or his father. Overall, N’mor decided, Weyrlinghood was quite lacking in some areas.
“Hello,” N’mor said dryly, when he realised Helyna was looking at him. Since his education in Flight Etiquette was clearly lacking, N’mor waited for Helyna to decide what the course of action would be – so long as it didn’t involve sex, because that was not happening. He brushed his hand over his half-shaved face again, still confused by being caught mid-shave in Fort, of all places. What had he been doing in Fort?
Turning his head as he lowered his hand to his stomach, N’mor found himself frowning at his sleeping bedmate; her brown hair was in a mess of tangles across her face and pillow, which N’mor was rather impressed by since she didn’t really have very long hair. Her puffy lips indicated there’d been a lot of mouth activity prompted by their dragons, and N’mor’s nose scrunched up just slightly. Why did his damned dragon have to be obsessed with golds? Why couldn’t he find a nice green mate that was bonded to a nice man?
Sighing to himself, N’mor sat up and took his part of the sheet with him, settling it over his lap and resting his chin in his palm. He shifted his balance carefully, and poked Helyna with his toes, before retracting his foot and watching her curiously. This was Rhezath’s third gold win, and his second with this particular pair. N’mor was tempted to bolt while she was still sleeping, but unlike their previous little get-together, this one was in the middle of the Weyr, and N’mor knew there would be no mistaking who had sired the clutch. Not that he hadn’t claimed the last clutch…. Eventually. But there would be none of that now, if only because N’mor had been thoroughly berated for his behaviour last time, which was kind of unfair. He had only been a child, and it wasn’t like Vaelya had been particularly insightful in post-flight behaviour. Or his father. Overall, N’mor decided, Weyrlinghood was quite lacking in some areas.
“Hello,” N’mor said dryly, when he realised Helyna was looking at him. Since his education in Flight Etiquette was clearly lacking, N’mor waited for Helyna to decide what the course of action would be – so long as it didn’t involve sex, because that was not happening. He brushed his hand over his half-shaved face again, still confused by being caught mid-shave in Fort, of all places. What had he been doing in Fort?
