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!
08.Apr.13, 09:33 AM
R’nya had had an interesting evening the day prior, with various young women seeking him out and usually demanding hugs and reassurance. Yes, they would be fine, yes, they were going to be taken out of range, and no, no one would let them get eaten by felines or wild whers, and please don’t --- Damnit Xyreith, why do women always have to cry? The dragon’s sniggering had been his only answer.
When dawn broke, however, the bronzerider – ever an early riser – had been up and ready. He had dressed, as many others would that day, in his dragonriding leathers. He made sure the condition was as acceptable as he knew it would be, checking more for sections that might have been eaten by insects than any wear or tear that would never exist in his leathers. Only when he was ready, (he had bathed and shaved the previous night, and saw no reason to redo such actions when his night had been quiet, calm and peaceful.), did he leave the hut and quietly mount up on Xyreith.
It was early still, but R’nya was in no hurry; he never hurried. The bronzerider went to breakfast, and socialised before making his way quietly about his usual routine and non-existent duties. He answered what questions asked of him with a bluntness that was almost entirely believed to be honesty, and R’nya made no attempt to correct them as he repeated that no, he did not know what S’kef had planned. No, he did not know the details and no, he was not interested in their gossiping or bitching and no he was not going to try and ‘change the brownrider’s’ mind. Whether they liked it or not, S’kef was their weyrleader and the bronzerider made it quite clear they ought to show some respect.
When push came to shove, R’nya blamed D’ren for putting the spotlight on him; no one had even known he’d existed before the bronzerider had made him a Wingleader. The fact that he had spent his time following D’ren’s orders are surely as he followed those issued by S’kef were unknown by most people; the growing opinion that he was a sounding board to the new Weyrleader was both amusing and annoying. The idea he caught wind of that the brownrider was his puppet nearly made R’nya laugh on the spot. Nearly. Why he would puppeteer a brownrider when it would be much more acceptable for him to snag Weyrleader and use the brownrider as a ‘second and make him do the dirtywork anyway was beyond the bronzerider. It made no sense at all!
By the time Noon arrived, R’nya had already been at the square, sitting with quiet dignity on Xyreith’s foreleg as the dragon lay curled up in a feline manner in the sun. The arrival of T’shiro had been acknowledged with a polite nod of the head, R’nya’s opinion on the whole ordeal completely out of sight. Xyreith stirred, waking from his lazy midday nap to peer around mildly before R’nya felt him reach out for Crucluith, his mind sharp and ready. The bronze would be unlikely to accept his rider being tossed between with any great dignity. It was expected he would vanish himself, of course, but R’nya and Xyreith were both prepared for the shitstorm and to protect both Tyrrisath and S’kef from the angry dragon making sure they, too, never returned.
Standing when Tyrrisath landed, R’nya made his way quietly towards the weyrleader, his eyes scanning the crowd. Earlier, Xyreith had informed him of those that had left with Tsuen and Nirinath, as had been requested of many of them. His gaze, mostly looking for troublemakers, slid without thought over Peorray’s face before snapping back. Grey-blue eyes widened just slightly, barely visible to anyone that was not both very close and very good at reading the bronzerider. His sudden pause before a deeply disproving frown stormed onto his face was quite readable, however. What is she doing here?
Xyreith jumped at the unaccustomed angry tone, and turned suddenly violent eyes on the young woman his rider had pointed out, very displeased at being on the receiving end of R’nya’s rare anger. The bronze dragon stared at the girl for a moment, before giving R’nya the equivalent of an internal shrug.Don’t know, Sir. The bronze also didn’t care, and while his tone made that quite clear, he just as obviously wasn’t prepared to press R’nya’s buttons at that moment. His human was difficult to rile up, but that girl had done it with her mere presence and Xyreith was not interested in being the punching bag.
R’nya scoffed at his dragon internally, before striding purposefully away from the small clearing that had come into existence around S’kef, the bronzerider’s clearly pissed off expression on the usually unreadable face clearing out many from his path. Before Peorray could either dodge out of reach or step aside for him, R’nya’s hand shot out swiftly, grabbing the girl by the upper arm. His grip was remarkably light, though undoubtedly it would look harsh and cruel to those watching and he could feel them watching.
“Are you stupid?” Half hissed, half whispered, R’nya’s voice still carried. Angered, and disappointed, the bronzerider stared at her expectantly. Peorray was normally such a good girl, too! Why would she disobey his pointed indication that she and her other companions should join the Weyrlings outside the Weyr district?! The fact that everyone he trusted to take care of one of his girls was currently with the rest of them did nothing to sooth the bronzerider’s obviously ruffled feathers and he withdrew his hand with a jerk, crossing his arms angrily over his chest and continued to stare down at her.
When dawn broke, however, the bronzerider – ever an early riser – had been up and ready. He had dressed, as many others would that day, in his dragonriding leathers. He made sure the condition was as acceptable as he knew it would be, checking more for sections that might have been eaten by insects than any wear or tear that would never exist in his leathers. Only when he was ready, (he had bathed and shaved the previous night, and saw no reason to redo such actions when his night had been quiet, calm and peaceful.), did he leave the hut and quietly mount up on Xyreith.
It was early still, but R’nya was in no hurry; he never hurried. The bronzerider went to breakfast, and socialised before making his way quietly about his usual routine and non-existent duties. He answered what questions asked of him with a bluntness that was almost entirely believed to be honesty, and R’nya made no attempt to correct them as he repeated that no, he did not know what S’kef had planned. No, he did not know the details and no, he was not interested in their gossiping or bitching and no he was not going to try and ‘change the brownrider’s’ mind. Whether they liked it or not, S’kef was their weyrleader and the bronzerider made it quite clear they ought to show some respect.
When push came to shove, R’nya blamed D’ren for putting the spotlight on him; no one had even known he’d existed before the bronzerider had made him a Wingleader. The fact that he had spent his time following D’ren’s orders are surely as he followed those issued by S’kef were unknown by most people; the growing opinion that he was a sounding board to the new Weyrleader was both amusing and annoying. The idea he caught wind of that the brownrider was his puppet nearly made R’nya laugh on the spot. Nearly. Why he would puppeteer a brownrider when it would be much more acceptable for him to snag Weyrleader and use the brownrider as a ‘second and make him do the dirtywork anyway was beyond the bronzerider. It made no sense at all!
By the time Noon arrived, R’nya had already been at the square, sitting with quiet dignity on Xyreith’s foreleg as the dragon lay curled up in a feline manner in the sun. The arrival of T’shiro had been acknowledged with a polite nod of the head, R’nya’s opinion on the whole ordeal completely out of sight. Xyreith stirred, waking from his lazy midday nap to peer around mildly before R’nya felt him reach out for Crucluith, his mind sharp and ready. The bronze would be unlikely to accept his rider being tossed between with any great dignity. It was expected he would vanish himself, of course, but R’nya and Xyreith were both prepared for the shitstorm and to protect both Tyrrisath and S’kef from the angry dragon making sure they, too, never returned.
Standing when Tyrrisath landed, R’nya made his way quietly towards the weyrleader, his eyes scanning the crowd. Earlier, Xyreith had informed him of those that had left with Tsuen and Nirinath, as had been requested of many of them. His gaze, mostly looking for troublemakers, slid without thought over Peorray’s face before snapping back. Grey-blue eyes widened just slightly, barely visible to anyone that was not both very close and very good at reading the bronzerider. His sudden pause before a deeply disproving frown stormed onto his face was quite readable, however. What is she doing here?
Xyreith jumped at the unaccustomed angry tone, and turned suddenly violent eyes on the young woman his rider had pointed out, very displeased at being on the receiving end of R’nya’s rare anger. The bronze dragon stared at the girl for a moment, before giving R’nya the equivalent of an internal shrug.
R’nya scoffed at his dragon internally, before striding purposefully away from the small clearing that had come into existence around S’kef, the bronzerider’s clearly pissed off expression on the usually unreadable face clearing out many from his path. Before Peorray could either dodge out of reach or step aside for him, R’nya’s hand shot out swiftly, grabbing the girl by the upper arm. His grip was remarkably light, though undoubtedly it would look harsh and cruel to those watching and he could feel them watching.
“Are you stupid?” Half hissed, half whispered, R’nya’s voice still carried. Angered, and disappointed, the bronzerider stared at her expectantly. Peorray was normally such a good girl, too! Why would she disobey his pointed indication that she and her other companions should join the Weyrlings outside the Weyr district?! The fact that everyone he trusted to take care of one of his girls was currently with the rest of them did nothing to sooth the bronzerider’s obviously ruffled feathers and he withdrew his hand with a jerk, crossing his arms angrily over his chest and continued to stare down at her.
