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!
25.Mar.12, 02:46 AM
"That was more than six turns ago!" she protested. "You can't judge me when you didn't even recognize me!" That wasn't fair at all, not that she thought the fairness of a situation would have anything to do with his decision. He was even more dispassionate than she recalled; to be fair, however, this was a situation they had never been in before. He was a familiar face, even if it was old memories. He probably wasn't the boy she remembered, but if there was any of him left in there, it would be good to see him again. And see him again she would, once he let go of her hair!
At eight she'd been more jealous of him than anything, this strange young boy swooping in and taking her brother's attention away. Litir had been enamored- not romantically, of course- by his new friend. Mother had encouraged their relationship, thinking it was good for Litir to have a companion who wasn't put off by his antisocial habits. How many times had her skinny fingers been crushed in the door as Litir closed it in her face? Too many. She'd been about 9, perhaps 10, when she'd hidden in the archives and slingshot pieces of molded cheese at him, irritated that her brother had decided to spend her nameday with him instead of her. How old had she been when she decided she had a crush on Valerian? (That had lasted about a sevenday, certainly no more, before Litir found her writing the older male a confession and mocked her mercilessly for her infatuation. She'd decided all men were wicked brutes like her brother, and Litir had gleefully torn the product of her innocent heart to shreds.)
Yet now here he was, and memories were just memories; this Valerian was much more wiggly than the boy her mother had loved to pinch. Her hand missed his cheek, but she felt it slide past his shoulder, and she dug her fingers into his shirt, twisting. Her hair was freed and her head jerked up, so she could glare at his face, almost pouting. A childish habit, one she'd hoped she had outgrown. She was just releasing his cheek when she felt his hand at her waist, felt the pinch of his fingers on the thin layer of skin around her waistline.
He latched onto her fiercely and Jada stepped forward, closer to him, trying to get away from his pinching fingers. She scowled up, not missing that bratty smirk, and moved the hand that had been on his cheek for his lip. She couldn't let the smirk go unpunished. She was going to wiggle that lip! Her hand was still tangled in his shirt, and her face was set in a scowl. "So you did." she agreed with him. And just as he'd let go of her hair, she'd relinquished her grip on his cheek. So what if she was going for someplace else- he had!
At eight she'd been more jealous of him than anything, this strange young boy swooping in and taking her brother's attention away. Litir had been enamored- not romantically, of course- by his new friend. Mother had encouraged their relationship, thinking it was good for Litir to have a companion who wasn't put off by his antisocial habits. How many times had her skinny fingers been crushed in the door as Litir closed it in her face? Too many. She'd been about 9, perhaps 10, when she'd hidden in the archives and slingshot pieces of molded cheese at him, irritated that her brother had decided to spend her nameday with him instead of her. How old had she been when she decided she had a crush on Valerian? (That had lasted about a sevenday, certainly no more, before Litir found her writing the older male a confession and mocked her mercilessly for her infatuation. She'd decided all men were wicked brutes like her brother, and Litir had gleefully torn the product of her innocent heart to shreds.)
Yet now here he was, and memories were just memories; this Valerian was much more wiggly than the boy her mother had loved to pinch. Her hand missed his cheek, but she felt it slide past his shoulder, and she dug her fingers into his shirt, twisting. Her hair was freed and her head jerked up, so she could glare at his face, almost pouting. A childish habit, one she'd hoped she had outgrown. She was just releasing his cheek when she felt his hand at her waist, felt the pinch of his fingers on the thin layer of skin around her waistline.
He latched onto her fiercely and Jada stepped forward, closer to him, trying to get away from his pinching fingers. She scowled up, not missing that bratty smirk, and moved the hand that had been on his cheek for his lip. She couldn't let the smirk go unpunished. She was going to wiggle that lip! Her hand was still tangled in his shirt, and her face was set in a scowl. "So you did." she agreed with him. And just as he'd let go of her hair, she'd relinquished her grip on his cheek. So what if she was going for someplace else- he had!
