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!
20.Aug.12, 09:55 PM
With his blood seeping out of his wounds and slipping over torn flesh to drip down onto the blanket below, Sand tried to count his heartbeats and then the soft footsteps he heard coming closer to pass the time until the healer arrived. He wondered briefly who it would be.
Opening his eyes without moving anything else he hoped he would see the healer. Instead it was an attendant that had handed D'ren a glass of water. The fact that it was meant for the man and not him was irritating. Wasn't he, Sanderon, the one that was hurt? The weyrleader was just being pampered. What a...
His thoughts grew silent with confused suspicion. D'ren was giving the water to him? ....Really? What was he suppose to think about the man now? It was so much easier to hate him. But all of this 'thoughtfulness'? It was just plain confusing. He did not entirely trust it. Maybe it was tainted somehow with drugs of some kind. He desperately wanted the water though. His mouth was very dry and his throat parched. But there was only one problem. He did not want to move in order to get it.
Gritting his teeth after an internal battle where his mind called his body a whiny baby, he moved very carefully and very slowly to where he rested upon one elbow. The fire that burned at his every movement was extreme. He felt his head spin and the sweat reappear upon his brow but he did not want to pass out at this point. Let the water touch his throat first.
Managing to touch the glass, he worked it into his grip and tried to lift it so he could bring it to his mouth. A soft moan escaped and he quickly set the glass back onto the table before it had been raised half an inch. Clenching his jaw in determination, he narrowed his eyes against the offending glass and tried again. This time, he expected what the additional weight, although small, brought to his tortured back muscles. Pulling the glass toward his lips, he could see the water inside the glass visibly tremble as his hand shook with the effort.
Feeling the refreshing water cool his mouth and slide down his throat, he drank heavily and nearly emptied the glass right then and there. With a little left, he had taken his fill and reversed his efforts to return the glass to where he had gotten it from. Thankfully it wasn't nearly as heavy this time.
Letting go of the glass, he kept his hand raised and took a look at his wrist for the first time. It did not look pretty at all and it still bled though not quite as freely as before. With his iron-willed determination to stay upright fading quickly, he fell back onto the bunk, this time he was partially on his side facing D'ren with his back facing away. Having moved was not an enjoyable experience and he regretted having done so as he lay there and just tried to breathe.
When the peak of his agony was fading a bit, he looked upon D'ren and noticed his sweated, tiredness. He looked positively dreadful. Huh? Was that a hint of concern for the monster sitting beside him? No way!
Looking down at his own blood upon the sides of his chest where it had run and dripped off and the blanket, he frowned with concern. Was his back as bad off as it felt? Would he heal okay? He knew he would scar so when that question came into his brain, he dismissed it as irrelevant. At least he had concrete thoughts at this point. His pain was no less than before, maybe even greater with the swelling and the wait, but his mind was not as scattered and disconnected as before.
Perhaps that is why he knew he wasn't imagining things when he heard a dragon's voice in his head. At the same time as a bronze one began to fog up the window there nearby. The beast was sorry that he hurt? Really? He had no reason to be angry with this dragon and so he swallowed a bit of pride and thought back an answer he did not know if the dragon could hear. 'Thanks.'
The second time the dragon spoke in his mind he had the distinct impression that he was not being spoken too directly this time, but rather was being allowed to listen in. D'ren rode a bronze. This one was probably his. So... D'ren felt hurt too?
Looking upon the man in a new light, he really considered him carefully for the first time. His tiredness. His hint of anger. The nearly hidden agony in D'ren's eyes. It was all there. Sand was confused. He wanted to hate the man sitting beside him. His gut wanted to roll with rage but it didn't. Maybe he was just too tired. Or maybe... Just maybe, Sand began to see D'ren as a man instead of a monster.
Opening his mouth he spoke to D'ren. His words this time were not void of emotion. This time there was a mixture of pain, confusion and yes, thankfulness.
"Thank you ...Sir."
He could always hate him again when he felt better, he surmised. But right now, he just didn't have it in him.
Opening his eyes without moving anything else he hoped he would see the healer. Instead it was an attendant that had handed D'ren a glass of water. The fact that it was meant for the man and not him was irritating. Wasn't he, Sanderon, the one that was hurt? The weyrleader was just being pampered. What a...
His thoughts grew silent with confused suspicion. D'ren was giving the water to him? ....Really? What was he suppose to think about the man now? It was so much easier to hate him. But all of this 'thoughtfulness'? It was just plain confusing. He did not entirely trust it. Maybe it was tainted somehow with drugs of some kind. He desperately wanted the water though. His mouth was very dry and his throat parched. But there was only one problem. He did not want to move in order to get it.
Gritting his teeth after an internal battle where his mind called his body a whiny baby, he moved very carefully and very slowly to where he rested upon one elbow. The fire that burned at his every movement was extreme. He felt his head spin and the sweat reappear upon his brow but he did not want to pass out at this point. Let the water touch his throat first.
Managing to touch the glass, he worked it into his grip and tried to lift it so he could bring it to his mouth. A soft moan escaped and he quickly set the glass back onto the table before it had been raised half an inch. Clenching his jaw in determination, he narrowed his eyes against the offending glass and tried again. This time, he expected what the additional weight, although small, brought to his tortured back muscles. Pulling the glass toward his lips, he could see the water inside the glass visibly tremble as his hand shook with the effort.
Feeling the refreshing water cool his mouth and slide down his throat, he drank heavily and nearly emptied the glass right then and there. With a little left, he had taken his fill and reversed his efforts to return the glass to where he had gotten it from. Thankfully it wasn't nearly as heavy this time.
Letting go of the glass, he kept his hand raised and took a look at his wrist for the first time. It did not look pretty at all and it still bled though not quite as freely as before. With his iron-willed determination to stay upright fading quickly, he fell back onto the bunk, this time he was partially on his side facing D'ren with his back facing away. Having moved was not an enjoyable experience and he regretted having done so as he lay there and just tried to breathe.
When the peak of his agony was fading a bit, he looked upon D'ren and noticed his sweated, tiredness. He looked positively dreadful. Huh? Was that a hint of concern for the monster sitting beside him? No way!
Looking down at his own blood upon the sides of his chest where it had run and dripped off and the blanket, he frowned with concern. Was his back as bad off as it felt? Would he heal okay? He knew he would scar so when that question came into his brain, he dismissed it as irrelevant. At least he had concrete thoughts at this point. His pain was no less than before, maybe even greater with the swelling and the wait, but his mind was not as scattered and disconnected as before.
Perhaps that is why he knew he wasn't imagining things when he heard a dragon's voice in his head. At the same time as a bronze one began to fog up the window there nearby. The beast was sorry that he hurt? Really? He had no reason to be angry with this dragon and so he swallowed a bit of pride and thought back an answer he did not know if the dragon could hear. 'Thanks.'
The second time the dragon spoke in his mind he had the distinct impression that he was not being spoken too directly this time, but rather was being allowed to listen in. D'ren rode a bronze. This one was probably his. So... D'ren felt hurt too?
Looking upon the man in a new light, he really considered him carefully for the first time. His tiredness. His hint of anger. The nearly hidden agony in D'ren's eyes. It was all there. Sand was confused. He wanted to hate the man sitting beside him. His gut wanted to roll with rage but it didn't. Maybe he was just too tired. Or maybe... Just maybe, Sand began to see D'ren as a man instead of a monster.
Opening his mouth he spoke to D'ren. His words this time were not void of emotion. This time there was a mixture of pain, confusion and yes, thankfulness.
"Thank you ...Sir."
He could always hate him again when he felt better, he surmised. But right now, he just didn't have it in him.
