(( @
RaziR
Alrifht darling here it Is! Just write whenever it is that you get the xhance, no need to rush or anything! ))
(( @
RaziR
Alrifht darling here it Is! Just write whenever it is that you get the xhance, no need to rush or anything! ))
He watched as his clan was torn away from him, already small in numbers to start with. Each dragon he had helped raise, watched grow, was retreating or falling capture to the opposing clan(s).
One of those clans fell under the name Interstellar. Zaphyr had heard of the clan a few times, of the great lore behind it, of the dragons underneath its veil. It had always intrigued him, however now he was nose to nose with said clan. His face was hidden beneath the skull of a bird, small body slinking through the larger dragons, searching the field for his target. Their physique was fit, and their colors a clashing blue and white. A pearlcatcher at best, and from what Zaphyr had heard, he was a heartcatcher, too. However he had never let his heart be caught.
As his scarf sat snugly around his neck, and the beads that fell from his skull dangled, a thought crossed his mind. How am I to bring this man down? Zaphyr was small in stature, and he certainly didn't have strength to support him. His tactic was stealth, but he used that more when taking out a target, not capturing them.
His element being nature, it came to mind to use the long vines that the trees provided, a soft, purring hiss leaving his esophagus as he dashed up a tree, enclosing his mouth on a vine, then he made his way back down. Having had a short time period of a bird's eye view, he managed to pinpoint his target. Quickly he scurried beneath the other beast, tail moving in order to keep him balanced because of his quick speed.
After slipping beneath the larger, Zaphyr swung back around his back legs, pulling and tripping the beast, scampering back up to loosely tangle his wings, and then back around his front feet. Instead of tying it properly, he held the vine tight, tail swaying back and forth.
One thing Amralime could assume right off the bat was that Zaphyr was higher up in his clan, considering the large feathers that sat atop his head. Possibly even the Clan Leader. It was hard to tell if the horns that accompanied his head were real or not, but they matched the color of his glowing, emerald eyes that sat beneath the bird skull.
This was Zaphyr's first mistake. What was he supposed to do now? What was he supposed to say? A rush of anxiety flooded his body, but he did his best to hold it down, deciding to play the cold one and keep his mouth shut. He pulled the vine tighter, looking for a nearby tree to tie it to. He found one within seconds that was close enough, so he made his way over and began to tie it, side towards the other so he could still see his every move.
He watched as his clan was torn away from him, already small in numbers to start with. Each dragon he had helped raise, watched grow, was retreating or falling capture to the opposing clan(s).
One of those clans fell under the name Interstellar. Zaphyr had heard of the clan a few times, of the great lore behind it, of the dragons underneath its veil. It had always intrigued him, however now he was nose to nose with said clan. His face was hidden beneath the skull of a bird, small body slinking through the larger dragons, searching the field for his target. Their physique was fit, and their colors a clashing blue and white. A pearlcatcher at best, and from what Zaphyr had heard, he was a heartcatcher, too. However he had never let his heart be caught.
As his scarf sat snugly around his neck, and the beads that fell from his skull dangled, a thought crossed his mind. How am I to bring this man down? Zaphyr was small in stature, and he certainly didn't have strength to support him. His tactic was stealth, but he used that more when taking out a target, not capturing them.
His element being nature, it came to mind to use the long vines that the trees provided, a soft, purring hiss leaving his esophagus as he dashed up a tree, enclosing his mouth on a vine, then he made his way back down. Having had a short time period of a bird's eye view, he managed to pinpoint his target. Quickly he scurried beneath the other beast, tail moving in order to keep him balanced because of his quick speed.
After slipping beneath the larger, Zaphyr swung back around his back legs, pulling and tripping the beast, scampering back up to loosely tangle his wings, and then back around his front feet. Instead of tying it properly, he held the vine tight, tail swaying back and forth.
One thing Amralime could assume right off the bat was that Zaphyr was higher up in his clan, considering the large feathers that sat atop his head. Possibly even the Clan Leader. It was hard to tell if the horns that accompanied his head were real or not, but they matched the color of his glowing, emerald eyes that sat beneath the bird skull.
This was Zaphyr's first mistake. What was he supposed to do now? What was he supposed to say? A rush of anxiety flooded his body, but he did his best to hold it down, deciding to play the cold one and keep his mouth shut. He pulled the vine tighter, looking for a nearby tree to tie it to. He found one within seconds that was close enough, so he made his way over and began to tie it, side towards the other so he could still see his every move.
Interstellar always tried to stray from war, they always preferred peace over conflict and made allies out of the dimmest of moments. Though this had been unexpected, how had it all started? The dragons of the arcane clan had no time to ponder such things, warriors and healers were whisked into battle to do the dirty work which they dread. Brutes and warriors slashed with claws and bared their teeth at their opponents, leaving a wake of blood in the once rolling hills.
"Keep them back!" The leaders voice was loud and booming, a strong voice which had seen the battlefield many times. "Together everyone!" The ridgeback scanned over the scene with his left eye, the icy blue was usually kind, though now it was hard and cold. Colors flashed as body's moved in the dance of war, giants slammed together in a battle for dominance with smaller lithe figures beneath them.
Amralime was a sight I'm the field, blue and white with eyes of the stormcatcher would meet his victims before their untimely end. A red rose tucked into the navy blue scarf draped around his shoulders. His headquarters were riveted, the skin pinkish and bubbled yet the scar was clearly old. He was dashing, though this work in no way pleasured him.
He felt the vines trickle along his ankles, looking down only for his feet to be swept out from under him. He stifled a yell as he hit the ground with a thud, puffs of dust fluttering into the air where he has fallen. "Hey! Let me-" his voice was cut short as a thick tail swung and collided with the back of his head, his skull emitting a loud whack as his eyes rolled back into his head. His body fell limp against the vines, no longer thrashing and tugging to free himself from the others hold.
Interstellar always tried to stray from war, they always preferred peace over conflict and made allies out of the dimmest of moments. Though this had been unexpected, how had it all started? The dragons of the arcane clan had no time to ponder such things, warriors and healers were whisked into battle to do the dirty work which they dread. Brutes and warriors slashed with claws and bared their teeth at their opponents, leaving a wake of blood in the once rolling hills.
"Keep them back!" The leaders voice was loud and booming, a strong voice which had seen the battlefield many times. "Together everyone!" The ridgeback scanned over the scene with his left eye, the icy blue was usually kind, though now it was hard and cold. Colors flashed as body's moved in the dance of war, giants slammed together in a battle for dominance with smaller lithe figures beneath them.
Amralime was a sight I'm the field, blue and white with eyes of the stormcatcher would meet his victims before their untimely end. A red rose tucked into the navy blue scarf draped around his shoulders. His headquarters were riveted, the skin pinkish and bubbled yet the scar was clearly old. He was dashing, though this work in no way pleasured him.
He felt the vines trickle along his ankles, looking down only for his feet to be swept out from under him. He stifled a yell as he hit the ground with a thud, puffs of dust fluttering into the air where he has fallen. "Hey! Let me-" his voice was cut short as a thick tail swung and collided with the back of his head, his skull emitting a loud whack as his eyes rolled back into his head. His body fell limp against the vines, no longer thrashing and tugging to free himself from the others hold.
Zaphyr was amazed by the fact he was able to take down another beast, immediately having him taken off to his lair, making sure he had guards to tie up the body and such. One of these Guards, Adelis, was set to watch over Amralime. Zaphyr trusted the younger male, for he had done no wrong by him this far.
The hit to the others head was pretty hard, so it made sense he was out for so long. Currently- a healer worked to keep his health stable. Her name was Lavarenti. She was skilled with her profession, using all sorts of herbs and potions to keep the wounds somewhat healed, for war knew no boundaries. It was kill or be killed.
As the day drew to a close, many dragons returned home either injured or carrying the less unfortunate on their back. Zaphyr was one who returned battered but hanging in there. While the rest of his clan made their way back to a medical field of sorts, but Zaphyr limped towards where the prisoner resided.
On his way, he thought to himself. Why? Why was this war brought upon us.. Yes, food sources are growing scarce, and populations are growing.. there has to be something more though, there had to be. We aren’t like our feral ancestors. We are reasonable beings who discuss rather than destroy. A heavy sigh left his lips as he entered the cave, greeting Lavarenti with a weak smile.
“Has everything been well here?” Zaphyr sat by the cave’s edge, his wings folded in, tail resting loosely around his feet.
“For the most part, yes.. He’s gonna have some scarring, that’s for sure. He’s most definitely experienced with the battlefield.” Her response came out soft spoken and inquisitive. However the last few words rang in his sensitive ears. If hes seen this before, then how come it was so simple catching him?.. After a period of silence, Lavarenti left the area, Zaphyr left sitting on the edge of the cave.
The moon now shone in full, illuminating the grass before him. He looked up to the stars, recognizing the atlas map he had done so hard to learn. His wounds had been lightly tended to, enough to make the pain less and the dry blood washed away. Soft chatter could be heard from different areas, but the POW cave was farther away from the rest of the clan for safety and privacy measurements. A sweet aroma filled the room, a brew of sorts, awaiting for when Amralime woke up. Zaphyr lacked an appetite, stomach twisting with the casualties that his clan acquired that day.
Zaphyr was amazed by the fact he was able to take down another beast, immediately having him taken off to his lair, making sure he had guards to tie up the body and such. One of these Guards, Adelis, was set to watch over Amralime. Zaphyr trusted the younger male, for he had done no wrong by him this far.
The hit to the others head was pretty hard, so it made sense he was out for so long. Currently- a healer worked to keep his health stable. Her name was Lavarenti. She was skilled with her profession, using all sorts of herbs and potions to keep the wounds somewhat healed, for war knew no boundaries. It was kill or be killed.
As the day drew to a close, many dragons returned home either injured or carrying the less unfortunate on their back. Zaphyr was one who returned battered but hanging in there. While the rest of his clan made their way back to a medical field of sorts, but Zaphyr limped towards where the prisoner resided.
On his way, he thought to himself. Why? Why was this war brought upon us.. Yes, food sources are growing scarce, and populations are growing.. there has to be something more though, there had to be. We aren’t like our feral ancestors. We are reasonable beings who discuss rather than destroy. A heavy sigh left his lips as he entered the cave, greeting Lavarenti with a weak smile.
“Has everything been well here?” Zaphyr sat by the cave’s edge, his wings folded in, tail resting loosely around his feet.
“For the most part, yes.. He’s gonna have some scarring, that’s for sure. He’s most definitely experienced with the battlefield.” Her response came out soft spoken and inquisitive. However the last few words rang in his sensitive ears. If hes seen this before, then how come it was so simple catching him?.. After a period of silence, Lavarenti left the area, Zaphyr left sitting on the edge of the cave.
The moon now shone in full, illuminating the grass before him. He looked up to the stars, recognizing the atlas map he had done so hard to learn. His wounds had been lightly tended to, enough to make the pain less and the dry blood washed away. Soft chatter could be heard from different areas, but the POW cave was farther away from the rest of the clan for safety and privacy measurements. A sweet aroma filled the room, a brew of sorts, awaiting for when Amralime woke up. Zaphyr lacked an appetite, stomach twisting with the casualties that his clan acquired that day.
Amralime was unconscious for quite a while, sure to awake with a headache and possibly a concussion. Shortly after the hit to his head his form no longer resembled that of a dragon, but of a young male. His body seemed frail as it lay limp amongst roaring beasts, his complexion a mix of porcelain white and mocha tan, the splotches along his skin following the curvature of his form. He was a sight to behold, dark wavy hair and long lashes which now closed over his bright eyes. The rose in which he always carried lay on the ground beside him, tattered and crumpled much like his form.
Upon awakening in the foreign clan, a groan left his lips as his head lulled to the side, everything too bright as his body ached in thrums of pain. He needed water, his tongue and lips far too dry as he attempted to wet his throat. Amralime blinked slowly, his jaw clenching as he attempted to move, though his bounds surpassed his strength now. He was weak from his injury, seeing he had been stripped of his ebony armor and remained in the linen clothing he wore beneath.
"Drink..." he croaked as he looked to the imperial doting over small cuts and bruises. "Water.. please." His voice was hoarse and rough, hair falling down his forehead in tendrils plastered to his skin due to the perspiration which beaded his brow. He knew he was in deep trouble, most likely taken hostage by the dragons which had waged war against his clan. What else could he remember? Fighting. yes he remembered that. I fell, because something tripped me.. no, someone tripped me. That's right, he remembered looking up and seeing... and seeing.
Him.
His piercing eyes met those of his captor, a small sigh leaving his lips as he leaned back in his seat. The smell of a healers was something he had grown a distaste for. Yes they used sweet smelling ingredients, though that was only to mask the odor of medicine. He had seen healers many times during the battles he had fought, some were because of his own injuries and others were for comrades fallen and wounded in the field. It really was a dreadful place.
Amralime was unconscious for quite a while, sure to awake with a headache and possibly a concussion. Shortly after the hit to his head his form no longer resembled that of a dragon, but of a young male. His body seemed frail as it lay limp amongst roaring beasts, his complexion a mix of porcelain white and mocha tan, the splotches along his skin following the curvature of his form. He was a sight to behold, dark wavy hair and long lashes which now closed over his bright eyes. The rose in which he always carried lay on the ground beside him, tattered and crumpled much like his form.
Upon awakening in the foreign clan, a groan left his lips as his head lulled to the side, everything too bright as his body ached in thrums of pain. He needed water, his tongue and lips far too dry as he attempted to wet his throat. Amralime blinked slowly, his jaw clenching as he attempted to move, though his bounds surpassed his strength now. He was weak from his injury, seeing he had been stripped of his ebony armor and remained in the linen clothing he wore beneath.
"Drink..." he croaked as he looked to the imperial doting over small cuts and bruises. "Water.. please." His voice was hoarse and rough, hair falling down his forehead in tendrils plastered to his skin due to the perspiration which beaded his brow. He knew he was in deep trouble, most likely taken hostage by the dragons which had waged war against his clan. What else could he remember? Fighting. yes he remembered that. I fell, because something tripped me.. no, someone tripped me. That's right, he remembered looking up and seeing... and seeing.
Him.
His piercing eyes met those of his captor, a small sigh leaving his lips as he leaned back in his seat. The smell of a healers was something he had grown a distaste for. Yes they used sweet smelling ingredients, though that was only to mask the odor of medicine. He had seen healers many times during the battles he had fought, some were because of his own injuries and others were for comrades fallen and wounded in the field. It really was a dreadful place.
Zaphyr wasn't quite prepared to hear the hoarse voice, turning around nearly immediately. He looked to Lavarenti, entrusting her with the male for the next few minutes while he went to get water. He went off, pretty quick too, anxious.
One thing Amralime might have noticed was that the cave was smaller than usual. That the territory of the clan was small, too. A clan of nineteen, that was all. However the smaller they were, the tighter their bond.
"I'm sorry if he comes off as awkward or uncomfortable. He's horrid at social interactions." Lavarenti let out a soft chuckle, remaining in her reptilian form to make guarding and healing easier, and a tinge more magical. The soft glow of the cauldron illuminated her gentle expression. She wasn't much of a fighter, more just doing her job when it was necessary, caring for the ill. At one point, she too, had served on the field. However one day, it was too rough for her, and she had to retire from the action. It must've been odd, considering how gentle she was being to the newcomer, despite him being a prisoner of sorts. "I suggest trying not to fight your bindings. You've already taken in a lot of damage. I've done what I could, but if you're not careful, you could suffer more internal bleeding. You also have a minor concussion, so try not to sway too much."
Meanwhile, Zaphyr had switched forms. His long, rose locks falling beneath his scarf, hiding its true length. The bird skull had become a necklace, smaller, feathers dangling from his hair, beads as well. The horns remained on his head. Guess they were a part of him.
He was stalling. He didn't know what he was gonna say. He held three large, glass bottles of water, hands trembling with anxiety. Eventually he returned, green eyes and tan skin emitting a glow in the moonlight and cauldron light. He was small in stature, frame skinny. He went beside Amralime, placing down two of the bottles.
"I'll let your hands free from your waist, although still bound together. If you try anything, I'll knock you out again." He didn't make eye contact, working on the binding that connected Amralime's wrists to his waist. He handed him water, uncapping it for him. "What's your name?" He inquired, soft-spoken.
Zaphyr wasn't quite prepared to hear the hoarse voice, turning around nearly immediately. He looked to Lavarenti, entrusting her with the male for the next few minutes while he went to get water. He went off, pretty quick too, anxious.
One thing Amralime might have noticed was that the cave was smaller than usual. That the territory of the clan was small, too. A clan of nineteen, that was all. However the smaller they were, the tighter their bond.
"I'm sorry if he comes off as awkward or uncomfortable. He's horrid at social interactions." Lavarenti let out a soft chuckle, remaining in her reptilian form to make guarding and healing easier, and a tinge more magical. The soft glow of the cauldron illuminated her gentle expression. She wasn't much of a fighter, more just doing her job when it was necessary, caring for the ill. At one point, she too, had served on the field. However one day, it was too rough for her, and she had to retire from the action. It must've been odd, considering how gentle she was being to the newcomer, despite him being a prisoner of sorts. "I suggest trying not to fight your bindings. You've already taken in a lot of damage. I've done what I could, but if you're not careful, you could suffer more internal bleeding. You also have a minor concussion, so try not to sway too much."
Meanwhile, Zaphyr had switched forms. His long, rose locks falling beneath his scarf, hiding its true length. The bird skull had become a necklace, smaller, feathers dangling from his hair, beads as well. The horns remained on his head. Guess they were a part of him.
He was stalling. He didn't know what he was gonna say. He held three large, glass bottles of water, hands trembling with anxiety. Eventually he returned, green eyes and tan skin emitting a glow in the moonlight and cauldron light. He was small in stature, frame skinny. He went beside Amralime, placing down two of the bottles.
"I'll let your hands free from your waist, although still bound together. If you try anything, I'll knock you out again." He didn't make eye contact, working on the binding that connected Amralime's wrists to his waist. He handed him water, uncapping it for him. "What's your name?" He inquired, soft-spoken.
Amralime listened as the other spoke to him of his captor, a small chuckle quickly turned into a fry cough. It was funny to see how this new clan handled their prisoners. He could due without the torture, he already had enough scars as it was. He glanced around his place of residence, eyes still focusing on certain things as he took in the rocky cave with a long sigh. he hated caves, always so dark and dank with no light and no truly warm place to lay. Arcanist was it dreadful.
"You haven't done this before, have you?" He asked as he looked to the larger, seeing she was still quite young by the way she spoke, carried herself and looked. She was pretty, if not in the predicament he had landed himself in he may had even tried to swoon her. Though now his only concern was getting something to drink.
He shifted in his seat while his injuries were explained, body relaxing as the once throbbing pain which he had awoken with faded, assuming that the healers work was finally beginning to take it's toll. He welcomed the relief, listening for the light footsteps of those who had left to get him a drink. Once he returned, Amralimes eyes were cast to the floor, listening and observing as the once fae came to his side and loosened his bounds.
"What, afraid I won't be able to keep my hands to myself?" He cooed as he rubbed his wrists where the rope had begun to rub at his skin, eyes glistening as he looked to the sparkling water. Once it was handed to him he lifted it to his lips and took long and deep gulps of the cool liquid, drips running from the corner of his mouth down his jaw and neck. The water left a trail along his skin as he gasped for air when he was done, chest heaving as he neckline of his shirt slumped off his shoulder. "Amralime, and thank you." He returned the glass to the other, a more dashing essence to him now. "If we're to have formal introductions I'd like to know my captors name." His ears were still droopy on his head, soft and velvet with one slight tears on the lobe. As the others name was presented he didn't hesitate to take the fae's hand with a gentle touch, planting a soft kiss on the top.
"If not for the scenery and situation I'm in, I would be able to tell you that I'm delighted to make your lovely acquaintance. Though alas, I'm your prisoner and have no means of escaping. So do grant me one request and tell me," He paused as he quickly wet his lips with his tongue. "What do you plan on doing to me?"
Amralime listened as the other spoke to him of his captor, a small chuckle quickly turned into a fry cough. It was funny to see how this new clan handled their prisoners. He could due without the torture, he already had enough scars as it was. He glanced around his place of residence, eyes still focusing on certain things as he took in the rocky cave with a long sigh. he hated caves, always so dark and dank with no light and no truly warm place to lay. Arcanist was it dreadful.
"You haven't done this before, have you?" He asked as he looked to the larger, seeing she was still quite young by the way she spoke, carried herself and looked. She was pretty, if not in the predicament he had landed himself in he may had even tried to swoon her. Though now his only concern was getting something to drink.
He shifted in his seat while his injuries were explained, body relaxing as the once throbbing pain which he had awoken with faded, assuming that the healers work was finally beginning to take it's toll. He welcomed the relief, listening for the light footsteps of those who had left to get him a drink. Once he returned, Amralimes eyes were cast to the floor, listening and observing as the once fae came to his side and loosened his bounds.
"What, afraid I won't be able to keep my hands to myself?" He cooed as he rubbed his wrists where the rope had begun to rub at his skin, eyes glistening as he looked to the sparkling water. Once it was handed to him he lifted it to his lips and took long and deep gulps of the cool liquid, drips running from the corner of his mouth down his jaw and neck. The water left a trail along his skin as he gasped for air when he was done, chest heaving as he neckline of his shirt slumped off his shoulder. "Amralime, and thank you." He returned the glass to the other, a more dashing essence to him now. "If we're to have formal introductions I'd like to know my captors name." His ears were still droopy on his head, soft and velvet with one slight tears on the lobe. As the others name was presented he didn't hesitate to take the fae's hand with a gentle touch, planting a soft kiss on the top.
"If not for the scenery and situation I'm in, I would be able to tell you that I'm delighted to make your lovely acquaintance. Though alas, I'm your prisoner and have no means of escaping. So do grant me one request and tell me," He paused as he quickly wet his lips with his tongue. "What do you plan on doing to me?"
Lavarenti looked over as the other spoke,
"Taking in a prisoner, no I have not done. But I've seen enough of the violence. I mean, unless of course you'd like me to toughen up and make your wounds a little worse rather than a lot better." Oh she was a sassy girl when she was defending herself.
Zaphyr's long ears fell back upon listening to the other's flirts, a little embarrassed, but holding his ground steady. "The only place your hands are gonna be once you've eaten and drank is back against your waist." He was playing hard to get. Once Amralime finished his water, he took the bottle and put it down.
"My name is Zaphyr," he said, taken aback when his hands were held so gingerly and kissed. Amralime's soft lips sent goosebumps along the fae's body. Although they diminished the more the other spoke, rather Zaphyr's anxiety rose.
"That's to be determined." It came out quiet, tugging his hands away and handing the other male another bottle of water, moving towards some food that had been left. He picked it up and brought it to the other, setting it on his lap. "That there has each type of food, to fit your preferences." He definitely hadn't done this before. He stood to the side of the chair, looking outside the cave. Lavarenti had left. She had to go tend to the wounded and the dead.
Lavarenti looked over as the other spoke,
"Taking in a prisoner, no I have not done. But I've seen enough of the violence. I mean, unless of course you'd like me to toughen up and make your wounds a little worse rather than a lot better." Oh she was a sassy girl when she was defending herself.
Zaphyr's long ears fell back upon listening to the other's flirts, a little embarrassed, but holding his ground steady. "The only place your hands are gonna be once you've eaten and drank is back against your waist." He was playing hard to get. Once Amralime finished his water, he took the bottle and put it down.
"My name is Zaphyr," he said, taken aback when his hands were held so gingerly and kissed. Amralime's soft lips sent goosebumps along the fae's body. Although they diminished the more the other spoke, rather Zaphyr's anxiety rose.
"That's to be determined." It came out quiet, tugging his hands away and handing the other male another bottle of water, moving towards some food that had been left. He picked it up and brought it to the other, setting it on his lap. "That there has each type of food, to fit your preferences." He definitely hadn't done this before. He stood to the side of the chair, looking outside the cave. Lavarenti had left. She had to go tend to the wounded and the dead.
