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!
23.Feb.12, 08:18 PM
Breccan had no idea what to do with herself. Her chores had been satisfactorily completed for the day -she had the pin-pricks in her fingers to prove it- but she didn't know Katila well enough to presume to find something she could do. More importantly, she wasn't well-known enough here to be trusted with extra duties. Anyone would accept help willingly enough, but she missed Healer. There, just the sight of her blonde head bobbing past a door usually earned her a call: Breccan, thank the first shell, could you give me a hand with this?
Instead, she was at loose ends, nothing more than a pair of idle hands. She toyed with the idea of swimming, and found it pleasant enough. Autumn meant things were cooling down, but it wasn't so cool that she'd stay out of the water. There'd be time enough for a dry life in winter. Swimming it was then, but she had a more pressing task to attend to first. Asking for directions gave her an excuse to make a few acquaintances, and she'd used that opportunity as much as could be expected. By now she was starting to get sideways looks, and truth be told, she was sick of asking where this was, and where that was. She knew the Candidate Isle inside out -a long, stubborn stay had ensured that- but she didn't know the purpose of all the huts arrayed around the Square. There weren't so many left to investigate, and she resolved to meet that private goal today.
That lead her steps to the Healing Hall. Stepping inside resulted in a warm burst of pleasure. Familiarity! The rest of Katila had it in some measure, being so like to her native Ista, but here was where she really considered home. Taking in a deep breath, she absorbed the familiar smells: numbweed, redwort solution, the faint smell of the sick. Perhaps some found those scents threatening, but they brought back her time at Healer in a rush. Almost distantly, she realized just how homesick she was. That was foolish, she knew. It did nothing to either improve her position here nor get her back there, but she couldn't do anything about it. For the moment, she was set adrift by that sudden hard clenching in her gut, the longing.
The moment passed. Breccan had spent a lifetime mastering her emotions, and that practice stood her in good stead now. And then a woman shouting a familiar name ruined all her hard work. The girl addressed was just as Breccan remembered her, dark-skinned, a little shorter and younger than herself. For the moment, Breccan remained where she was, by the door, watching the little exchange. She couldn't hear all of it, but it looked like Lymsleia was comfortable enough here. She wondered how long she'd been down here. Breccan's own early promotion to Journeyman had sent her away from Healer, and she had quickly lost touch with those she'd known there. It had been, what, five turns since she'd last seen this girl? Watching her easy familiarity with the people here, with the surroundings, she had to guess Lym had been here at least a turn, maybe more.
She waited quietly, unnoticed, as the two women completed their business and Lym walked off alone, settling down near the fireplace. That was as good an opening as any, and Breccan moved over to join her, dropping smoothly to a cross-legged position across from her. "Hello, Lym," she greeted the girl with a crooked half-smile, "Looks like they got you too. And before me."
Her smile widened fractionally, becoming more friendly than wry. Brec's grey eyes flickered over the contents of Lymsleia's hands, a scroll of some variety. It looked like the girl was accepted well enough in the little hall, and doing some sort of research besides. Breccan could almost have been jealous. Then again, Lymsleia probably hadn't spent weeks on the Candidate Isle.
Instead, she was at loose ends, nothing more than a pair of idle hands. She toyed with the idea of swimming, and found it pleasant enough. Autumn meant things were cooling down, but it wasn't so cool that she'd stay out of the water. There'd be time enough for a dry life in winter. Swimming it was then, but she had a more pressing task to attend to first. Asking for directions gave her an excuse to make a few acquaintances, and she'd used that opportunity as much as could be expected. By now she was starting to get sideways looks, and truth be told, she was sick of asking where this was, and where that was. She knew the Candidate Isle inside out -a long, stubborn stay had ensured that- but she didn't know the purpose of all the huts arrayed around the Square. There weren't so many left to investigate, and she resolved to meet that private goal today.
That lead her steps to the Healing Hall. Stepping inside resulted in a warm burst of pleasure. Familiarity! The rest of Katila had it in some measure, being so like to her native Ista, but here was where she really considered home. Taking in a deep breath, she absorbed the familiar smells: numbweed, redwort solution, the faint smell of the sick. Perhaps some found those scents threatening, but they brought back her time at Healer in a rush. Almost distantly, she realized just how homesick she was. That was foolish, she knew. It did nothing to either improve her position here nor get her back there, but she couldn't do anything about it. For the moment, she was set adrift by that sudden hard clenching in her gut, the longing.
The moment passed. Breccan had spent a lifetime mastering her emotions, and that practice stood her in good stead now. And then a woman shouting a familiar name ruined all her hard work. The girl addressed was just as Breccan remembered her, dark-skinned, a little shorter and younger than herself. For the moment, Breccan remained where she was, by the door, watching the little exchange. She couldn't hear all of it, but it looked like Lymsleia was comfortable enough here. She wondered how long she'd been down here. Breccan's own early promotion to Journeyman had sent her away from Healer, and she had quickly lost touch with those she'd known there. It had been, what, five turns since she'd last seen this girl? Watching her easy familiarity with the people here, with the surroundings, she had to guess Lym had been here at least a turn, maybe more.
She waited quietly, unnoticed, as the two women completed their business and Lym walked off alone, settling down near the fireplace. That was as good an opening as any, and Breccan moved over to join her, dropping smoothly to a cross-legged position across from her. "Hello, Lym," she greeted the girl with a crooked half-smile, "Looks like they got you too. And before me."
Her smile widened fractionally, becoming more friendly than wry. Brec's grey eyes flickered over the contents of Lymsleia's hands, a scroll of some variety. It looked like the girl was accepted well enough in the little hall, and doing some sort of research besides. Breccan could almost have been jealous. Then again, Lymsleia probably hadn't spent weeks on the Candidate Isle.
