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!
09.Nov.13, 07:16 PM
The rains had been blessing at first. Temperatures had dropped back to something more bearable and that fresh rain washed scent had filled the air. As the rains lingered day after day they changed from a blessing to more of a curse. The steady rain found each and every leak. Quickly everything it touched was saturated. Paths degraded into muddy pits with pools of murky water whose depths were a mystery until you stepped in one by accident. Even the hatching grounds had flooded, hammering home the need for something to be done to improve the area. Unless of course the Weyr was secretly breeding aquatic dragons now.
It was difficult not to feel a bit glum beneath the near constant rain and dreary sunless sky. Trel refused to let something like a mindless rain win. He had a plan for today. If he could not escape the rain he could at least escape the endless mopping of muddy footprints for an hour or two. He was grinning as he struck out for the river, fishing pole in hand and a few meatrolls tucked into a pocket. He ignored the steady drip of rain, pulling the hood of his borrowed cloak a little further down. He didn't mind getting wet, but didn't want to risk being recognized. As all good fishermen did, he had a super secret fishing spot.
The underbrush wasn't going to let him through without depositing every drop of accumulated water onto him first. Trel pressed on, pausing only to untangle his line a couple times from a pesty branch or leaf as he marched along the riverside. It wasn't the easiest place to reach, but a good spot never was. If it was easy everyone would be there. Eventually his destination came into view. A deep pool whose rocky edges were over hung by various branches and bushes, and held the promise of some large fish within it's depths. For the moment he ignored the pool, heading instead toward a structure setting on the river bank.
He'd built the simple lean-to years back. It wasn't fancy, but it did keep off the sun and rain when needed, plus he'd made it himself. A couple spots had leaks, but nothing that couldn't be fixed later. He moved toward the rocky edge of the river, rolling over larger stones until he found a grub. They were rather disgusting to look at and to touch, but they did make descent bait for hungry fish. With a grimace he slid the wiggling creature onto his hook, wiping away some nasty gunk that oozed out as he did so. With a smooth motion he cast his baited hook toward the rain dappled pool. It hit the water with a plop before disappearing beneath the surface. Now he just had to wait.
Settling his pole between a couple of rocks he retreated to the lean-to to escape the wet. He pulled a slightly squished packet of meat rolls from his pocket, unwrapped them and took a bite from one. With the upcoming hatching there was a slim chance he wouldn't have time to do this for a while. He'd been told often enough how time consuming caring for a hatchling was. He'd also seen the worn out new riders staggering about in a near daze at times. The incident at the previous hatching had been memorable. The event was rather shocking and he hoped it would not be repeated anytime soon. The foul smell had seemed to linger in his nostrils for far to long. He had some smelly encounters before as a beastcrafter, but the rotten gold egg had been the worst.
He'd just taken another bite of his meat roll when there was the sudden snap off a branch. Trelanvor froze mid chew as his imagination picturing a large cat sneaking through the brush. Hands trembling he pulled loose his belt knife. A plan form quickly in his mind, not a great plan, but if he was really lucky it just might work. Taking a deep he jumped out with a wild scream, waving his knife around with desperate abandon as he screeched.
It was difficult not to feel a bit glum beneath the near constant rain and dreary sunless sky. Trel refused to let something like a mindless rain win. He had a plan for today. If he could not escape the rain he could at least escape the endless mopping of muddy footprints for an hour or two. He was grinning as he struck out for the river, fishing pole in hand and a few meatrolls tucked into a pocket. He ignored the steady drip of rain, pulling the hood of his borrowed cloak a little further down. He didn't mind getting wet, but didn't want to risk being recognized. As all good fishermen did, he had a super secret fishing spot.
The underbrush wasn't going to let him through without depositing every drop of accumulated water onto him first. Trel pressed on, pausing only to untangle his line a couple times from a pesty branch or leaf as he marched along the riverside. It wasn't the easiest place to reach, but a good spot never was. If it was easy everyone would be there. Eventually his destination came into view. A deep pool whose rocky edges were over hung by various branches and bushes, and held the promise of some large fish within it's depths. For the moment he ignored the pool, heading instead toward a structure setting on the river bank.
He'd built the simple lean-to years back. It wasn't fancy, but it did keep off the sun and rain when needed, plus he'd made it himself. A couple spots had leaks, but nothing that couldn't be fixed later. He moved toward the rocky edge of the river, rolling over larger stones until he found a grub. They were rather disgusting to look at and to touch, but they did make descent bait for hungry fish. With a grimace he slid the wiggling creature onto his hook, wiping away some nasty gunk that oozed out as he did so. With a smooth motion he cast his baited hook toward the rain dappled pool. It hit the water with a plop before disappearing beneath the surface. Now he just had to wait.
Settling his pole between a couple of rocks he retreated to the lean-to to escape the wet. He pulled a slightly squished packet of meat rolls from his pocket, unwrapped them and took a bite from one. With the upcoming hatching there was a slim chance he wouldn't have time to do this for a while. He'd been told often enough how time consuming caring for a hatchling was. He'd also seen the worn out new riders staggering about in a near daze at times. The incident at the previous hatching had been memorable. The event was rather shocking and he hoped it would not be repeated anytime soon. The foul smell had seemed to linger in his nostrils for far to long. He had some smelly encounters before as a beastcrafter, but the rotten gold egg had been the worst.
He'd just taken another bite of his meat roll when there was the sudden snap off a branch. Trelanvor froze mid chew as his imagination picturing a large cat sneaking through the brush. Hands trembling he pulled loose his belt knife. A plan form quickly in his mind, not a great plan, but if he was really lucky it just might work. Taking a deep he jumped out with a wild scream, waving his knife around with desperate abandon as he screeched.
