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.Jun.12, 09:56 AM
The warm spring sunshine was delightful as Aveleth curled up against the side of the Dining Hall building, sunning himself while he waited anxiously for Z'ia to finish his midday meal and rejoin him once more. They were going gathering that afternoon, an activity which Aveleth was particularly looking forward to. With the Weyrleader and his bronze assigned to the same group, the blue finally felt he could relax just a little around his bonded and not end up buried alive in trouble.
He was roused from his wandering, stressful thoughts by a random, wet pop against his hip. Raising his head delicately, Aveleth peered at the spot for a moment, then lifted his head to peer up at the sky. Cloudless, and a very bright blue, it obviously wasn't from any rain. Twisting around to peer up at the windows of the hall, the dragon studied them for a moment, too, before deciding that whatever had caused the wet mark on his hip had not come from there, either. Confused, he touched upon Z'ia's mind - it wouldn't be the first time his mischievous rider had tricked him. However, while the young man was definitely up to something, it wasn't anything designed to target his dragon.
Aveleth, worried Z'ia was going to do something stupid in the Hall when it was full (Faranth only knew what, but Aveleth was sure he'd think of something) the dragon poked around his human's mind long enough to be sure whatever was going on was simply bawdy table manners and bad jokes. The hall was liable to end up in a food fight, but that could be started by anyone. Hopefully. Maybe..?
Pop! Aveleth gave a squeak when another of the wet marks appeared on his cheek with a distinct albeit quiet popping sound, and his head swung around rapidly. Shivering worriedly, Aveleth's head tilted as he saw one of the young weyrlings prancing across the ground, following an almost invisible - Oh! It vanished! Aveleth's eyes opened wide, the colour shooting through to change from stressed silvers to curious blues and greens as he stood up, peering anxiously over his shoulder at the hall. The young dragon hesitated for a moment, swaying worriedly on the spot before he timidly moved to follow the baby blue dragon.
Yes, Aveleth added, timid voice as soft as snowflakes. What are they? Head tilting slightly, Aveleth watched the bubbles as they erupted from the little stick the girl held, and filled the air. He glanced back over his shoulder worriedly, again. It was never wise to wander too far from Z'ia... but... Aveleth swayed anxiously, but his attention returned to the scarred child and her odd creations.
He was roused from his wandering, stressful thoughts by a random, wet pop against his hip. Raising his head delicately, Aveleth peered at the spot for a moment, then lifted his head to peer up at the sky. Cloudless, and a very bright blue, it obviously wasn't from any rain. Twisting around to peer up at the windows of the hall, the dragon studied them for a moment, too, before deciding that whatever had caused the wet mark on his hip had not come from there, either. Confused, he touched upon Z'ia's mind - it wouldn't be the first time his mischievous rider had tricked him. However, while the young man was definitely up to something, it wasn't anything designed to target his dragon.
Aveleth, worried Z'ia was going to do something stupid in the Hall when it was full (Faranth only knew what, but Aveleth was sure he'd think of something) the dragon poked around his human's mind long enough to be sure whatever was going on was simply bawdy table manners and bad jokes. The hall was liable to end up in a food fight, but that could be started by anyone. Hopefully. Maybe..?
Pop! Aveleth gave a squeak when another of the wet marks appeared on his cheek with a distinct albeit quiet popping sound, and his head swung around rapidly. Shivering worriedly, Aveleth's head tilted as he saw one of the young weyrlings prancing across the ground, following an almost invisible - Oh! It vanished! Aveleth's eyes opened wide, the colour shooting through to change from stressed silvers to curious blues and greens as he stood up, peering anxiously over his shoulder at the hall. The young dragon hesitated for a moment, swaying worriedly on the spot before he timidly moved to follow the baby blue dragon.
Yes, Aveleth added, timid voice as soft as snowflakes. What are they? Head tilting slightly, Aveleth watched the bubbles as they erupted from the little stick the girl held, and filled the air. He glanced back over his shoulder worriedly, again. It was never wise to wander too far from Z'ia... but... Aveleth swayed anxiously, but his attention returned to the scarred child and her odd creations.
Unless stated otherwise, Aveleth never speaks to anyone but Z'ia
