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!
13.Jan.20, 07:31 AM
R’nya was pleased with the Hatching thus far; it was unexpected, it was early, but it was going well – as Aradissicath and Xyreith’s clutches were prone to, for which he was especially pleased. The last clutch Xyreith had fathered, before he began capturing Aradissicath – back in the days prior to the Plague – had been wrought with the illness of the Plague, with Hatchlings that he’d seen too similar to those Thallyath had clutched. The only reason he (and likely others) hadn’t gotten loud about Thallyath’s clutch, was because it was clearly the blame of the blue sire, and not a new Plague. Not that that had stopped the nightmares or the memories from cropping up unexpectedly. The terrors in the night was why R’nya had taken to working longer hours, and often sleeping on the couch or in one of their daughter’s beds when they’d sought out their mother.
Of course, he should have known better than to think that a Hatching a week early would go smoothly from beginning to end. It took him a few moments to realise that the world was moving, and he reached out a hand, pressing it to Xyreith’s hide as the huge bronze dragon stood up tall, rumbling a low warning and spreading his wings wide over the humans, eyes swirling with distress and irritation, unimpressed by this disturbance to his children’s entrance into the world. Like Aradissicath, he confided that the earth had been moving on and off since late in the night. R’nya shifted, moving away from his dragon and pulling Rhaedalyn to him. He made a soft rumble of displeasure himself when the infants vanished between, rubbing his hand up Rhaedalyn’s arm and frowning at the Sands.
The flurry of blue caught R’nya’s attention, and his lips pursed as he foresaw the mauling even before the little dragon crashed into the Candidates. Unfortunately, it took him a precious breath to realise that the Candidate that was on the ground was Quin, and R’nya swore under his breath, a rather foul word that he definitely didn’t say around his children. His grey eyes glanced around, and he relaxed slightly when he saw the healers moving swiftly towards his surrogate son, before stiffening when he realised the scream from Quilriana had stopped. His gaze darted, and he saw the beautiful woman making a mad dash towards the Sands.
“Fuck!” R’nya hissed, “She’s going to—” he fell off, dropping his arms from around Rhaedalyn and bolting along the edge of the Sands, moving swiftly and easily. For all his time spent locked up in the office, R’nya still made sure to find time to exercise and take care of himself. He quickly came upon Quilriana, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her firm against his chest as she struggled and spat threats at him. He murmured softly, trying to soothe her, naming the Healers, praising their good work that he’d seen in the past. When she crumpled, he loosed his grip – enough to hold her without restraining her – and sighed deeply, looking anxious and regretful for a moment, gaze shifting to look at the Healers as they worked on Quinvalis.
Turning his attention back to Quilriana, R’nya helped her, making sure she had her feet under her. “Come, dear,” he murmured softly, moving her along the edge of the sands, and then towards her son. “I will take you to Quinvalis. I am so sorry,” R’nya’s voice was riddled with guilt, eyes clouded as they finally made it to the youngster. R’nya let Quilriana go, eyebrows knitted as he approached the greenriding Healer, and had a quiet conversation with the young man about Quinvalis and his situation. R’nya nodded, touched Quilriana lightly on the shoulder, and then moved back to Rhaedalyn to let her know how Quinvalis was doing, frown still furrowing his eyebrows.
Of course, he should have known better than to think that a Hatching a week early would go smoothly from beginning to end. It took him a few moments to realise that the world was moving, and he reached out a hand, pressing it to Xyreith’s hide as the huge bronze dragon stood up tall, rumbling a low warning and spreading his wings wide over the humans, eyes swirling with distress and irritation, unimpressed by this disturbance to his children’s entrance into the world. Like Aradissicath, he confided that the earth had been moving on and off since late in the night. R’nya shifted, moving away from his dragon and pulling Rhaedalyn to him. He made a soft rumble of displeasure himself when the infants vanished between, rubbing his hand up Rhaedalyn’s arm and frowning at the Sands.
The flurry of blue caught R’nya’s attention, and his lips pursed as he foresaw the mauling even before the little dragon crashed into the Candidates. Unfortunately, it took him a precious breath to realise that the Candidate that was on the ground was Quin, and R’nya swore under his breath, a rather foul word that he definitely didn’t say around his children. His grey eyes glanced around, and he relaxed slightly when he saw the healers moving swiftly towards his surrogate son, before stiffening when he realised the scream from Quilriana had stopped. His gaze darted, and he saw the beautiful woman making a mad dash towards the Sands.
“Fuck!” R’nya hissed, “She’s going to—” he fell off, dropping his arms from around Rhaedalyn and bolting along the edge of the Sands, moving swiftly and easily. For all his time spent locked up in the office, R’nya still made sure to find time to exercise and take care of himself. He quickly came upon Quilriana, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her firm against his chest as she struggled and spat threats at him. He murmured softly, trying to soothe her, naming the Healers, praising their good work that he’d seen in the past. When she crumpled, he loosed his grip – enough to hold her without restraining her – and sighed deeply, looking anxious and regretful for a moment, gaze shifting to look at the Healers as they worked on Quinvalis.
Turning his attention back to Quilriana, R’nya helped her, making sure she had her feet under her. “Come, dear,” he murmured softly, moving her along the edge of the sands, and then towards her son. “I will take you to Quinvalis. I am so sorry,” R’nya’s voice was riddled with guilt, eyes clouded as they finally made it to the youngster. R’nya let Quilriana go, eyebrows knitted as he approached the greenriding Healer, and had a quiet conversation with the young man about Quinvalis and his situation. R’nya nodded, touched Quilriana lightly on the shoulder, and then moved back to Rhaedalyn to let her know how Quinvalis was doing, frown still furrowing his eyebrows.
