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!
24.May.22, 12:04 AM
True to S'far's word, it seemed Urudith had truly written him off as a lost cause. Despite the rider's insistence he not take it to heart, Chironhes found himself doing exactly that. He listened as S'far shared childhood tales of impressing the grouchy dragon behind him and obediently lifted his shirt with his good hand to allow the rider to tend to his wounds appropriately. More than once, his gaze went white with pain, teeth gritted stubbornly to keep from the ugly, gasping sound he made when another would have otherwise cried out.
Though the bad pun earned a quiet snort from the boy, it did little to distract him from his agony. At one point, his hand lashed out to clench around S'far's arm in a silent request to hold, just wait, as he breathed through the worst of it. Eyes squeezed shut, he waited for it to pass and loosened his hold when he could.
Once his wounds were properly tended, Chir managed to stand and only felt the world sway a little in comparison to the way it had completely tilted on its axis before. He kept his stance wide to counteract the dizziness and tenderly shrugged on the coat tossed his way. This was an awful lot of effort to go through to help a stranger. The young hunter still couldn't figure out why S'far was even bothering, especially when it was clear even his dragon would prefer otherwise. But far be it from him to talk the man out of it when he seemed pretty determined.
As there was still time yet, Chir took the chance to lean against a nearby tree and closed his eyes. If he waited long enough, the spinning stopped. Mostly. Enough, at least, to allow him to observe the way S'far applied the series of straps along Urudith's girth. He walked over as soon as S'far finished, though glanced to the forest where he'd lost his weapons, and both the wherry and boar remained. It hurt to leave them behind. Wasting good meat was one of a hunter's greatest sins, his father had told him. It didn't sit well. But considering he had few options, he vowed to give back to the forest when he could for what he had stolen from it.
Sitting astride a dragon was the last thing Chir imagined doing with his day. Without the use of his right arm, currently wrapped in a sling across his chest, he squeezed uncomfortably tight with his legs to keep from losing his balance. He didn't quite trust the leather straps despite S'far's obvious faith in them even as he cast repeated apologies towards Urudith. Even if he didn't respond, the dragon could at least know he meant it.
When S'far tucked himself behind Chir, the boy barely had a chance to talk a bolstering breath before Urudith was launching himself into the air. His curly hair whipped around his face with each downbeat of dragon wings and the boy kept a white-knuckled grip on the strap in his left hand.
Once they were clear of the trees, Chir was gifted with a bird's eye -- or dragon's eye -- view of the only home he'd ever known. The Skybroom rose high above the rest of the conifers, their flat tops looking as if they could house half of the Hold on just one platform. Exhilaration, awe, and wonder all flooded him in equal amounts, chasing away the lingering fear. He could die right then and there and be satisfied just from seeing his entire world from a new perspective. It was...magical.
S'far's quick warning to hold his breath was hardly warning enough. Though nothing could have properly prepared him for the nothing that was going between. Cold permeated through every layer of fur, worse than any winter had ever come to bear in the North. Chir had never known such ice and felt it most keenly at his wounds despite the extra dressings S'far had applied. But the cold wasn't even the worst of it. The boy had lived more than half his life without a voice, but in those seconds that stretched into eternity, he knew what it was to be blind as well.
And just when his lungs felt they'd reached their limits, they broke free of that eternal darkness to soar over new lands. Chir slumped forward with nausea while the entire world spun on a completely different axis than before. Whether the dragon sensed his unwanted cargo's sudden illness or not, they landed with great speed. Even still, S'far almost didn't get the boy unstrapped fast enough for him to slip free of the leathery dragon to fall to his knees and lose his meager breakfast.
A healer? He felt an undertaker would be a more appropriate option...
The sound of nearby snickering didn't escape the boy's notice despite the way he remained hunched over his pile of sick in anticipation of more heaving. When it was clear no more would come, he was grateful for S'far's strength in getting back to his feet. Keeping his eyes downcast, he avoided the lingering gazes of those who walked by and followed wherever his guide led.
Though the bad pun earned a quiet snort from the boy, it did little to distract him from his agony. At one point, his hand lashed out to clench around S'far's arm in a silent request to hold, just wait, as he breathed through the worst of it. Eyes squeezed shut, he waited for it to pass and loosened his hold when he could.
Once his wounds were properly tended, Chir managed to stand and only felt the world sway a little in comparison to the way it had completely tilted on its axis before. He kept his stance wide to counteract the dizziness and tenderly shrugged on the coat tossed his way. This was an awful lot of effort to go through to help a stranger. The young hunter still couldn't figure out why S'far was even bothering, especially when it was clear even his dragon would prefer otherwise. But far be it from him to talk the man out of it when he seemed pretty determined.
As there was still time yet, Chir took the chance to lean against a nearby tree and closed his eyes. If he waited long enough, the spinning stopped. Mostly. Enough, at least, to allow him to observe the way S'far applied the series of straps along Urudith's girth. He walked over as soon as S'far finished, though glanced to the forest where he'd lost his weapons, and both the wherry and boar remained. It hurt to leave them behind. Wasting good meat was one of a hunter's greatest sins, his father had told him. It didn't sit well. But considering he had few options, he vowed to give back to the forest when he could for what he had stolen from it.
Sitting astride a dragon was the last thing Chir imagined doing with his day. Without the use of his right arm, currently wrapped in a sling across his chest, he squeezed uncomfortably tight with his legs to keep from losing his balance. He didn't quite trust the leather straps despite S'far's obvious faith in them even as he cast repeated apologies towards Urudith. Even if he didn't respond, the dragon could at least know he meant it.
When S'far tucked himself behind Chir, the boy barely had a chance to talk a bolstering breath before Urudith was launching himself into the air. His curly hair whipped around his face with each downbeat of dragon wings and the boy kept a white-knuckled grip on the strap in his left hand.
Once they were clear of the trees, Chir was gifted with a bird's eye -- or dragon's eye -- view of the only home he'd ever known. The Skybroom rose high above the rest of the conifers, their flat tops looking as if they could house half of the Hold on just one platform. Exhilaration, awe, and wonder all flooded him in equal amounts, chasing away the lingering fear. He could die right then and there and be satisfied just from seeing his entire world from a new perspective. It was...magical.
S'far's quick warning to hold his breath was hardly warning enough. Though nothing could have properly prepared him for the nothing that was going between. Cold permeated through every layer of fur, worse than any winter had ever come to bear in the North. Chir had never known such ice and felt it most keenly at his wounds despite the extra dressings S'far had applied. But the cold wasn't even the worst of it. The boy had lived more than half his life without a voice, but in those seconds that stretched into eternity, he knew what it was to be blind as well.
And just when his lungs felt they'd reached their limits, they broke free of that eternal darkness to soar over new lands. Chir slumped forward with nausea while the entire world spun on a completely different axis than before. Whether the dragon sensed his unwanted cargo's sudden illness or not, they landed with great speed. Even still, S'far almost didn't get the boy unstrapped fast enough for him to slip free of the leathery dragon to fall to his knees and lose his meager breakfast.
A healer? He felt an undertaker would be a more appropriate option...
The sound of nearby snickering didn't escape the boy's notice despite the way he remained hunched over his pile of sick in anticipation of more heaving. When it was clear no more would come, he was grateful for S'far's strength in getting back to his feet. Keeping his eyes downcast, he avoided the lingering gazes of those who walked by and followed wherever his guide led.
