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, 02:59 AM
It was a lot to take in. Chironhes had made quite a first impression: vomiting as soon as he was on the ground, earning at least one healer's ire after jerking away at the S'far's mention of him staying at the Weyr with the distinct impression left that it was not just for healing, staring for too long at the dragons everywhere, and just being generally unfamiliar with...everything. The freckled boy had thought himself an oddity back at Lemos Hold. With how he seemed to be regarded now, Chir thought he'd perhaps sprouted a second head somewhere along that darkness they'd flown. What had S'far called it? Between? Somewhere between Lemos and...wherever this was.
At least the food wasn't different. Well, not all of it. To be honest, quite a bit of it was dressed up fancier than anything he'd seen before. Granted, he was used to spitting his own kills and fletching arrows to the sound of fat dripping into a campfire. Peeling pieces off a fresh kill had a different feel to it than using utensils to flick weird groupings of plants off a slab of wherry steak drizzled in some sauce. Even more so when he was forced to do so with his non-dominant hand.
Chir's right arm remained bandaged, the sling fashioned to keep the healing limb trapped close to his chest to prevent excessive motion from re-opening the stitches along his shoulder. Other than the bandages around his middle, there was little to be done to prevent him from overstretching his left side where his more severe injuries lay. With a healthy slathering of numbroot applied beneath the bandages, he couldn't even feel the area anymore.
Unable to voice any protest when S'far suddenly excused himself and abandoned the freckled teen at the dining tables to fend for himself, Chir scowled into his meal and struggled to slice another piece of wherry steak with just the fork he could manage. It'd be nice to not have so many stares on him so he could just pick it up and bite a piece off with his teeth without looking like some barbarian. Frustrated, he pushed the plate away despite his hunger while trying to mentally plot his way back home.
Stealing a dragon was out of the realm of possibilities. Not because he knew anything about the bonds they shared with their riders, but simply because he didn't imagine he could manage the straps S'far had used to get him here. Which left finding a runnerbeast. Or walking. And additionally required him to know where in Pern he'd even been brought. Taken? Rescued? He still couldn't decide.
He was in the process of deliberating his admittedly limited options when another strode into the dining hall, aiming for him. Warily, Chir glanced back for S'far. Even if he was still uncertain about the dragon rider's intentions, the boy had long ago learned 'better the devil you know.' But the man was still nowhere in sight, leaving the boy to the scrutiny of another.
At least the food wasn't different. Well, not all of it. To be honest, quite a bit of it was dressed up fancier than anything he'd seen before. Granted, he was used to spitting his own kills and fletching arrows to the sound of fat dripping into a campfire. Peeling pieces off a fresh kill had a different feel to it than using utensils to flick weird groupings of plants off a slab of wherry steak drizzled in some sauce. Even more so when he was forced to do so with his non-dominant hand.
Chir's right arm remained bandaged, the sling fashioned to keep the healing limb trapped close to his chest to prevent excessive motion from re-opening the stitches along his shoulder. Other than the bandages around his middle, there was little to be done to prevent him from overstretching his left side where his more severe injuries lay. With a healthy slathering of numbroot applied beneath the bandages, he couldn't even feel the area anymore.
Unable to voice any protest when S'far suddenly excused himself and abandoned the freckled teen at the dining tables to fend for himself, Chir scowled into his meal and struggled to slice another piece of wherry steak with just the fork he could manage. It'd be nice to not have so many stares on him so he could just pick it up and bite a piece off with his teeth without looking like some barbarian. Frustrated, he pushed the plate away despite his hunger while trying to mentally plot his way back home.
Stealing a dragon was out of the realm of possibilities. Not because he knew anything about the bonds they shared with their riders, but simply because he didn't imagine he could manage the straps S'far had used to get him here. Which left finding a runnerbeast. Or walking. And additionally required him to know where in Pern he'd even been brought. Taken? Rescued? He still couldn't decide.
He was in the process of deliberating his admittedly limited options when another strode into the dining hall, aiming for him. Warily, Chir glanced back for S'far. Even if he was still uncertain about the dragon rider's intentions, the boy had long ago learned 'better the devil you know.' But the man was still nowhere in sight, leaving the boy to the scrutiny of another.
