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!
19.Oct.12, 07:23 AM
The keen had come with the same heart stopping horror as always; past, present or future - B'jin knew he'd never respond to the soul wrenching sound in any other way than by his stomach clenching and his heart leaping into his throat. Memories past flashed by, dragons lost in both plague and otherwise, even as he had mentally flung himself at Larrikith, crying for the information of who - where - why! He'd received word that it was a Weyrling before anything else and for a few split seconds, B'jin's entire world had frozen, lost in the roaring sound of silence Val-! and then the saving grace; a girl, a green pair... B'jin had collapsed into a pile on the floor of his hut and cried. From the relief, from the horror, from the overwhelming fear that had coursed through him for those few moments.
He'd pulled himself together swiftly enough, flinging himself outside and atop Larrikith he'd demanded to go to wherever it was the Weyrlings were at; he needed to see the young bluerider himself. He trusted Larrikith's word, but there was a fine line between the word of his dragon and his own visual sighting and he needed that extra added security, before he could relax. The little green dragon found the group and landed. The air was thick with the shock. The Weyrlings had been practising between for over a month now; they should have been able to avoid such a tragedy. B'jin didn't care. He'd slid from his dragon and thrown himself at Valerian, clinging to the young man as he himself shook from all the overwhelming horror of the situation, thoughtless of his healing body. He feared for you, Larrikith had known, in the way dragons know, that it wasn't Valerian that had been lost but the emotion that flowed with the words for the young rider were wrapped in warmth and affection as she slipped up beside Veeth, cuddling close to the little blue.
That had been shortly after lunchtime; now, it was late into the evening and B'jin was in the Dining Hall, sitting at one of the long benches, a wine glass before him. Along both sides, and across from him, throughout the hall, other dragonriders were spread; there was very little speaking and what was was in hushed undertones: the quiet respect for a fallen comrade. R'nd had started sitting beside him, but at some point during their time there, B'jin had thrown his other leg over the bench and dragged R'nd closer to sit pressed against him, the greenrider's arm wrapped loose and low around his mate's waist while his chin was rested lightly on R'nd's shoulder. Occasionally, he'd breathe a soft puffy sigh, and place a kiss on the sulking bluerider's neck, or tighten his grip for a moment in a gentle hug; he was still flinch happy himself at being touched, but sought to make up for it by initiating the contact with the bluerider; perhaps overly so though at times like this it would certainly be overlooked. Lifting his chin from R'nd's shoulder for a moment, the greenrider tossed back the remaining contents of his mostly empty wineglass, and wrapped both arms low around R'nd's waist and pressed his forehead to the back of the younger dragonrider's neck.
He'd pulled himself together swiftly enough, flinging himself outside and atop Larrikith he'd demanded to go to wherever it was the Weyrlings were at; he needed to see the young bluerider himself. He trusted Larrikith's word, but there was a fine line between the word of his dragon and his own visual sighting and he needed that extra added security, before he could relax. The little green dragon found the group and landed. The air was thick with the shock. The Weyrlings had been practising between for over a month now; they should have been able to avoid such a tragedy. B'jin didn't care. He'd slid from his dragon and thrown himself at Valerian, clinging to the young man as he himself shook from all the overwhelming horror of the situation, thoughtless of his healing body. He feared for you, Larrikith had known, in the way dragons know, that it wasn't Valerian that had been lost but the emotion that flowed with the words for the young rider were wrapped in warmth and affection as she slipped up beside Veeth, cuddling close to the little blue.
That had been shortly after lunchtime; now, it was late into the evening and B'jin was in the Dining Hall, sitting at one of the long benches, a wine glass before him. Along both sides, and across from him, throughout the hall, other dragonriders were spread; there was very little speaking and what was was in hushed undertones: the quiet respect for a fallen comrade. R'nd had started sitting beside him, but at some point during their time there, B'jin had thrown his other leg over the bench and dragged R'nd closer to sit pressed against him, the greenrider's arm wrapped loose and low around his mate's waist while his chin was rested lightly on R'nd's shoulder. Occasionally, he'd breathe a soft puffy sigh, and place a kiss on the sulking bluerider's neck, or tighten his grip for a moment in a gentle hug; he was still flinch happy himself at being touched, but sought to make up for it by initiating the contact with the bluerider; perhaps overly so though at times like this it would certainly be overlooked. Lifting his chin from R'nd's shoulder for a moment, the greenrider tossed back the remaining contents of his mostly empty wineglass, and wrapped both arms low around R'nd's waist and pressed his forehead to the back of the younger dragonrider's neck.
