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!
23.May.22, 09:23 PM
Chironhes grunted as he struggled to wrap the bandage all the way around his midsection. With so much movement, there was already strikethrough of three layers before he simply relented and opted to continue to hold pressure while waiting for the fisherman to reel in his catch. Chir managed a whistle of appreciation, always eager to applaud the success of another when he had the opportunity even considering his current circumstances.
The boy frowned even after it was established he couldn't speak when the stranger mentioned an old man. Had he really lost so much blood? Turning around, Chir jolted and staggered weakly to his feet only to tumble a step away.
Fear had his nostrils flaring, his pupils already blown wide from the recent attack. Was he supposed to look away? Not meet a dragon's gaze? What was it people in the Hold said about them? At this moment, he couldn't recall, and all he could hear was a dull roar in his head. As the deeper breaths pulled painfully at his wounds, Chir fought to keep as calm as possible. Could they smell fear, too?
The bronze of its hide flashed in his mind's eye, bringing the dredges of another memory to the forefront. Armor, a frightening helmet. A too-strong hand around his throat, impervious to a child's desperate kicks and short nails scrambling against metal.
Chir swallowed bile at the memory as he became aware of the man speaking again. S'far. Mate. Urudith. The three words didn't connect as they should. Mate to the uneducated boy meant something far different. At least, he thought so. Perhaps it wasn't. Was that why those in the Hold...?
The musing was interrupted by an uninvited voice in his head. Still staring at the dragon, Chir had little doubts as to who it belonged to.
His name, at least, was relayed with a word. The rest, however, was thought of in broken images. He found himself reliving the fight. Pinned to a tree by talons in his right shoulder. His right arm next to useless, though he could manage to move his fingers and swing the limb if he wanted to through the pain. More talons hooked into his left side tugging him close. Even he was uncertain of the degree of damage to relay, but the trail of blood he'd left behind was an indicator of the severity.
Dizzy, he thought, managing another coherent word.
Despite his obvious fear, Chir adapted to the situation surprisingly quickly. The dragon could have torn him to shreds if it wished many times over since he and S'far had tumbled into the little grove.
Sorry. Urudith, he corrected, figuring he should at least consider the beast by its name rather than referring to it simply as "the dragon" even in his head. Whether it was blood loss that gave him the bravery to pose the question or not, Chironhes forged forward with the first that came to mind. What does mate mean? Unable to help himself, he pictured the only other frame of reference he had; a dog tied to a bitch in heat in the Hold. Not...like that, right? There was no shortage of rumors when it came to dragonriders around the Hold, but this was the first opportunity Chir had ever had to actually give voice to his curiosity. To ignore the chance was unacceptable.
The boy frowned even after it was established he couldn't speak when the stranger mentioned an old man. Had he really lost so much blood? Turning around, Chir jolted and staggered weakly to his feet only to tumble a step away.
Fear had his nostrils flaring, his pupils already blown wide from the recent attack. Was he supposed to look away? Not meet a dragon's gaze? What was it people in the Hold said about them? At this moment, he couldn't recall, and all he could hear was a dull roar in his head. As the deeper breaths pulled painfully at his wounds, Chir fought to keep as calm as possible. Could they smell fear, too?
The bronze of its hide flashed in his mind's eye, bringing the dredges of another memory to the forefront. Armor, a frightening helmet. A too-strong hand around his throat, impervious to a child's desperate kicks and short nails scrambling against metal.
Chir swallowed bile at the memory as he became aware of the man speaking again. S'far. Mate. Urudith. The three words didn't connect as they should. Mate to the uneducated boy meant something far different. At least, he thought so. Perhaps it wasn't. Was that why those in the Hold...?
The musing was interrupted by an uninvited voice in his head. Still staring at the dragon, Chir had little doubts as to who it belonged to.
His name, at least, was relayed with a word. The rest, however, was thought of in broken images. He found himself reliving the fight. Pinned to a tree by talons in his right shoulder. His right arm next to useless, though he could manage to move his fingers and swing the limb if he wanted to through the pain. More talons hooked into his left side tugging him close. Even he was uncertain of the degree of damage to relay, but the trail of blood he'd left behind was an indicator of the severity.
Dizzy, he thought, managing another coherent word.
Despite his obvious fear, Chir adapted to the situation surprisingly quickly. The dragon could have torn him to shreds if it wished many times over since he and S'far had tumbled into the little grove.
Sorry. Urudith, he corrected, figuring he should at least consider the beast by its name rather than referring to it simply as "the dragon" even in his head. Whether it was blood loss that gave him the bravery to pose the question or not, Chironhes forged forward with the first that came to mind. What does mate mean? Unable to help himself, he pictured the only other frame of reference he had; a dog tied to a bitch in heat in the Hold. Not...like that, right? There was no shortage of rumors when it came to dragonriders around the Hold, but this was the first opportunity Chir had ever had to actually give voice to his curiosity. To ignore the chance was unacceptable.
