22.Aug.12, 01:34 AM
Oh. A'liran's brows furrowed as he realized who he'd stumbled upon. It was V'zire; possibly the most delicate and gentle man A'liran had ever met, of any faction. A'liran could still remember their first meeting, where his own fierce temper had startled V'zire and made their first meeting awkward, to say the least.
There needed to be more greenriders like V'zire, A'liran thought. People to break the stereotypes and prove the masses wrong. Unfortunately, being different appeared to come with consequences.
It didn't take a lot of thought to figure out what had happened. The torn clothes, the tears. A'liran's jaw clenched in anger. "Who did this?" he snapped suddenly, his voice constricting. His eyes scanned the dark room, picking up on the silhouettes and slowly piecing the clues together in his mind. He waited a long moment for the answer, then stepped forward regardless of whether or not he'd been given it. He wasn't even paying any attention; he didn't need an answer. He knew.
S'kef and Tyrrisath Astoreth said, for the blamed the dragon just as much as the rider. The dragon could have stopped it. She knew he could have.
A'liran seated himself against the wall and grunted. He reached out to examine the shredded shirt and frowned. "....I could probably get someone to patch this for you," he commented lightly, roughly...not sure what to say to console his fellow greenrider. He sneered. He wasn't much for fluffy sentimental stuff, but his concern was visible through sheer effort alone.
There was an awkward pause, then he sighed. "Dude...I'm so sorry."
I'm so sorry
There needed to be more greenriders like V'zire, A'liran thought. People to break the stereotypes and prove the masses wrong. Unfortunately, being different appeared to come with consequences.
It didn't take a lot of thought to figure out what had happened. The torn clothes, the tears. A'liran's jaw clenched in anger. "Who did this?" he snapped suddenly, his voice constricting. His eyes scanned the dark room, picking up on the silhouettes and slowly piecing the clues together in his mind. He waited a long moment for the answer, then stepped forward regardless of whether or not he'd been given it. He wasn't even paying any attention; he didn't need an answer. He knew.
S'kef and Tyrrisath Astoreth said, for the blamed the dragon just as much as the rider. The dragon could have stopped it. She knew he could have.
A'liran seated himself against the wall and grunted. He reached out to examine the shredded shirt and frowned. "....I could probably get someone to patch this for you," he commented lightly, roughly...not sure what to say to console his fellow greenrider. He sneered. He wasn't much for fluffy sentimental stuff, but his concern was visible through sheer effort alone.
There was an awkward pause, then he sighed. "Dude...I'm so sorry."
I'm so sorry