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!
14.Jul.14, 03:38 AM
The enthusiasm of the Weyrlingmaster exuded made Firah recoil a little. Part of him wondered what gave the man the right to be so happy. Rubbing the side of his face the Beastcrafter watched the Northerners around him uninterested. Fresh caught from the country regions of the North. While caught probably wasn't the correct word for the Searching process, its the best he could come up with. They had probably lured them in with promises of rank that they could never obtain otherwise. Probably awed them with their dragons too, as nothing like them has been seen for many turns. It was unlikely any of the new faces had any sort of education making it plausible that they were, in all honesty, quite gullible to a swift talking Dragonrider. Narrowing his gaze at a younger candidate who had been staring at his scar Firah locked eyes with the boy until he edged away. Between L'tai and the people crowded around him it was a feat in itself that he still remained. He sighed, adjusting his posture as the Weyrlingmaster began chattering to their group. Why the Beastcrafter was here in the first place was a story indeed.
Only a week ago he'd been in the North which was something he'd been wanting since the day he'd been Stolen. Nabol had been the very first place that he'd gone but upon finding out that not only was his wife was no longer there but it would be near impossible for him to regain his old job at the Hold, he traveled back to his familial homestead. It was there that he found out what had become of his wife and child. Sarin had remarried, to his brother no less, and his boy was being raised by the couple. His arrival had set his home abuzz like a swarm of startled wherries. While at home he almost blatantly ignored his now ex-wife and Faridan whenever it wouldn't be socially unacceptable to do so. It didn't take long for Firah to become agitated with the life he'd lead before. It lasted four days. Four days until he borrowed a runner, sought out the dragons he'd become so familiar with and requested he be returned to the South. His trip had opened his eyes to the fact that, despite having been forced to live there, the Weyr had become his life. Sarin was lost to him, Farayn didn't remember him, and the opulent lifestyle in which his family lived no longer held any interest to him. Without ties to keep him in the North he had little motivation to strike out on his own when he could return to the job he had been given.
So he was here again, standing on the hot sands waiting among a gaggle of people until they were released to wander among the eggs. Becoming a Dragonrider still wasn't his first choice of things but it wouldn't be long now until he aged out. If he didn't Impress it wouldn't be the end of his world but he wasn't going to continue on refusing to stand because of principle. Firah frowned at Tiatiath as she snapped her jaws together then at L'tai as his continued enthusiasm drew out a round of chuckles from his peers. Ranging out after the first wave of confident candidates the Beastcrafter quietly moved among the eggs, choosing the first one without much ado. Ignoring the gasps of the young men who had touched an egg in haste, he crouched to lay a hand on the cream colored shell, inspecting the black speckles that dotted the lighter background.
The dragonette within rose to meet him, invading his mind with a firm gentleness that brooked little argument over the matter. Tendrils of curiosity roamed through his thoughts bringing up memories of his childhood. It took a mild interest in his attempts to be humble in front of his superiors at the Hall, but withdrew with amusement as it was obvious it had been a difficult task. And, as quickly as the unborn dragon had made an appearence, it sank back into it's shell leaving him with wet eyes. No matter how many times he'd participated in a Touching it never ceased to amaze him how the young, egg bound creatures could draw out things he'd not thought about for turns. Standing, Firah moved to the next egg hoping it would be a little less of a trip on memory lane.
Iridescent Egg
Only a week ago he'd been in the North which was something he'd been wanting since the day he'd been Stolen. Nabol had been the very first place that he'd gone but upon finding out that not only was his wife was no longer there but it would be near impossible for him to regain his old job at the Hold, he traveled back to his familial homestead. It was there that he found out what had become of his wife and child. Sarin had remarried, to his brother no less, and his boy was being raised by the couple. His arrival had set his home abuzz like a swarm of startled wherries. While at home he almost blatantly ignored his now ex-wife and Faridan whenever it wouldn't be socially unacceptable to do so. It didn't take long for Firah to become agitated with the life he'd lead before. It lasted four days. Four days until he borrowed a runner, sought out the dragons he'd become so familiar with and requested he be returned to the South. His trip had opened his eyes to the fact that, despite having been forced to live there, the Weyr had become his life. Sarin was lost to him, Farayn didn't remember him, and the opulent lifestyle in which his family lived no longer held any interest to him. Without ties to keep him in the North he had little motivation to strike out on his own when he could return to the job he had been given.
So he was here again, standing on the hot sands waiting among a gaggle of people until they were released to wander among the eggs. Becoming a Dragonrider still wasn't his first choice of things but it wouldn't be long now until he aged out. If he didn't Impress it wouldn't be the end of his world but he wasn't going to continue on refusing to stand because of principle. Firah frowned at Tiatiath as she snapped her jaws together then at L'tai as his continued enthusiasm drew out a round of chuckles from his peers. Ranging out after the first wave of confident candidates the Beastcrafter quietly moved among the eggs, choosing the first one without much ado. Ignoring the gasps of the young men who had touched an egg in haste, he crouched to lay a hand on the cream colored shell, inspecting the black speckles that dotted the lighter background.
The dragonette within rose to meet him, invading his mind with a firm gentleness that brooked little argument over the matter. Tendrils of curiosity roamed through his thoughts bringing up memories of his childhood. It took a mild interest in his attempts to be humble in front of his superiors at the Hall, but withdrew with amusement as it was obvious it had been a difficult task. And, as quickly as the unborn dragon had made an appearence, it sank back into it's shell leaving him with wet eyes. No matter how many times he'd participated in a Touching it never ceased to amaze him how the young, egg bound creatures could draw out things he'd not thought about for turns. Standing, Firah moved to the next egg hoping it would be a little less of a trip on memory lane.
Iridescent Egg
