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!
01.Mar.12, 12:17 AM
Breccan smiled faintly, agreeing. She had no problem accepting impersonal compliments, but she suspected her Masters had longer to get to know her personally than Talian's had. It was easy to distill the man into nothing but a success story to tell the Apprentices. For the first time, she wondered what effect his meteoric rise had had on him. She'd always assumed that being promoted so quickly would be a source of personal pride and pleasure. Perhaps that hadn't been quite the case. "Do you like Katila, then? I suppose no one has heard of you -besides Northerners, anyway. I imagine it must be a good opportunity to start over as Talian the man instead of Talian the Master," she remarked, doing what she could to mask her intense interest in his answer. Did people come to love it here so easily?
She lifted her eyebrows, mildly surprised. "That's odd. One of the Masters used to say you knew you wanted to be a healer the moment you could draw breath. Hyperbole, of course, but I suspected it was a sort of life-long aspiration," she answered, then immediately felt foolish, "Not that life-long means much at six Turns." Her correction was hasty and embarrassed. Some part of her feared Talian would find her uninteresting. What would it be like to live in a world peopled with others not as intelligent as you? For her part, she found associating with the stupid or dull extremely unpleasant. Yet he seemed friendly, open at least to a conversation. Perhaps that humility extended to all facets of his life.
Indivara was talking about paints, for no reason that made any sense to her. Was she looking to paint the clothes? That didn't seem right, but then again, she wasn't a Weaver for a reason. It didn't take long for the 'brat to puzzle that one out for her. "Paint?" she repeated inanely, glancing towards the snout that was moving ominously close to the window, "Do most dragons like to be painted?" Somehow, she didn't think so. They were such stately creatures, with a sort of dignity to them. In the air, anyway. Then again, she could hardly doubt the girl's words, since they were immediately corroborated in a threat from the rider to the dragon.
"I would be interested in meeting her, but I'm not sure if painting is a talent of mine," she cautioned, "Bathing might be more my speed." In fact, she was awful with most creative or artistic tasks. In a way, she thought of healing as art, and particularly herbology, but it was more like baking, really. This ingredient combined with that ingredient and prepared in this way yielded this product. The only art to it was how intuitive she found it; she suspected that her predilection for that branch of healing was much like an artist's talent for a certain medium.
She stole a glance at Talian. He seemed terribly nervous. Surely he was more comfortable around dragons than this! Perhaps it was simply the exuberance of this one...who was, apparently, now on the roof. And dancing around, if Breccan's ears were any judge.
She lifted her eyebrows, mildly surprised. "That's odd. One of the Masters used to say you knew you wanted to be a healer the moment you could draw breath. Hyperbole, of course, but I suspected it was a sort of life-long aspiration," she answered, then immediately felt foolish, "Not that life-long means much at six Turns." Her correction was hasty and embarrassed. Some part of her feared Talian would find her uninteresting. What would it be like to live in a world peopled with others not as intelligent as you? For her part, she found associating with the stupid or dull extremely unpleasant. Yet he seemed friendly, open at least to a conversation. Perhaps that humility extended to all facets of his life.
Indivara was talking about paints, for no reason that made any sense to her. Was she looking to paint the clothes? That didn't seem right, but then again, she wasn't a Weaver for a reason. It didn't take long for the 'brat to puzzle that one out for her. "Paint?" she repeated inanely, glancing towards the snout that was moving ominously close to the window, "Do most dragons like to be painted?" Somehow, she didn't think so. They were such stately creatures, with a sort of dignity to them. In the air, anyway. Then again, she could hardly doubt the girl's words, since they were immediately corroborated in a threat from the rider to the dragon.
"I would be interested in meeting her, but I'm not sure if painting is a talent of mine," she cautioned, "Bathing might be more my speed." In fact, she was awful with most creative or artistic tasks. In a way, she thought of healing as art, and particularly herbology, but it was more like baking, really. This ingredient combined with that ingredient and prepared in this way yielded this product. The only art to it was how intuitive she found it; she suspected that her predilection for that branch of healing was much like an artist's talent for a certain medium.
She stole a glance at Talian. He seemed terribly nervous. Surely he was more comfortable around dragons than this! Perhaps it was simply the exuberance of this one...who was, apparently, now on the roof. And dancing around, if Breccan's ears were any judge.
