Ah, @NebulaDragon, I am happy to write for them if I still can? (now that I've returned from other responsibilities)
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FR+2
she/her or they/them writer and crafter by passion and trade |
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TOPIC | Author Adoption Agency: Trade Or Create!
Ah, @NebulaDragon, I am happy to write for them if I still can? (now that I've returned from other responsibilities)
@NebulaDragon Here is what I wrote for the pair, Shroud (#56463404) and I have called the unnamed male (#60788624) Varynze! Also featuring Carmynne and Sunnis from my clan~
Though there was no place precisely safe for a pair of young dragons alone, Shroud could not help but relax a little as she passed into the dim realm of the Tangled Wood that was her homeland. Varynze moved closer to her, warm against her side, and she purred reassuringly. She had grown swiftly very fond of the younger dragon almost despite herself, and when he had fretted that he would be left behind all but swept him along with her. They would find a new place together, she thought, and brushed his slightly knobby spine with one wing.
Much as she wished to believe she was safe, here in her homeland, Shroud kept on alert, and she twisted with striking speed as she saw a gleam of something bright in the shadows. Varynze made a questioning noise and Shroud hushed him, swiftly picking out the stout figure of an approaching dragon.
Shroud remained where she was, Varynze tucked mostly behind her and one wing creeping down to hide him away a little more.
The unfamiliar dragon was another Nocturne, like her young friend, but older, older than them both if Shroud judged right - Shroud dwarfed her already but she was more than twice Varynze's size, a respectably-grown Nocturne. Shroud let out a warning shriek as fire-bright eyes - brighter even than the red glow of Varynze's plague eyes, which had taken time for her to grow used to - lit on them. Shroud drew herself up with a glare.
The other Nocturne tilted her head, green flashes showing along her eyes and her slowly curling tail. She all but crooned, stretching out her neck and dipping her head, though it was not in submission or fear. Shroud showed her teeth.
A darting rush brought the stranger close and Shroud opened her jaws only to be surprised by a gentle touch to her jaw, followed by a crooning noise as the Nocturne female all but nudged under Shroud's wing to inspect Varynze, who tensed but chirruped back to her. Shroud resisted the impulse to snarl a warning, but lowered herself close enough to be both shield and strike if need be.
The stranger Nocturne only clucked and nuzzled, gently offered friendly gestures, and Shroud felt wrong-footed . . . but not . . . unhappy. She had missed the company of others beyond her new friend.
She startled at the glimmer of another bright spot, and her eyes widened as another Imperial emerged, the runic markings on his hide all but glowing in the shadows. He swept almost impassive eyes over all of them as he approached, slow and steady, and dipped his head to Shroud's, offering a welcome.
(I . . . got a teensy bit carried away and have made myself stop here before I can spill too many more words to continue this small drama. ^^;)
Though there was no place precisely safe for a pair of young dragons alone, Shroud could not help but relax a little as she passed into the dim realm of the Tangled Wood that was her homeland. Varynze moved closer to her, warm against her side, and she purred reassuringly. She had grown swiftly very fond of the younger dragon almost despite herself, and when he had fretted that he would be left behind all but swept him along with her. They would find a new place together, she thought, and brushed his slightly knobby spine with one wing.
Much as she wished to believe she was safe, here in her homeland, Shroud kept on alert, and she twisted with striking speed as she saw a gleam of something bright in the shadows. Varynze made a questioning noise and Shroud hushed him, swiftly picking out the stout figure of an approaching dragon.
Shroud remained where she was, Varynze tucked mostly behind her and one wing creeping down to hide him away a little more.
The unfamiliar dragon was another Nocturne, like her young friend, but older, older than them both if Shroud judged right - Shroud dwarfed her already but she was more than twice Varynze's size, a respectably-grown Nocturne. Shroud let out a warning shriek as fire-bright eyes - brighter even than the red glow of Varynze's plague eyes, which had taken time for her to grow used to - lit on them. Shroud drew herself up with a glare.
The other Nocturne tilted her head, green flashes showing along her eyes and her slowly curling tail. She all but crooned, stretching out her neck and dipping her head, though it was not in submission or fear. Shroud showed her teeth.
A darting rush brought the stranger close and Shroud opened her jaws only to be surprised by a gentle touch to her jaw, followed by a crooning noise as the Nocturne female all but nudged under Shroud's wing to inspect Varynze, who tensed but chirruped back to her. Shroud resisted the impulse to snarl a warning, but lowered herself close enough to be both shield and strike if need be.
The stranger Nocturne only clucked and nuzzled, gently offered friendly gestures, and Shroud felt wrong-footed . . . but not . . . unhappy. She had missed the company of others beyond her new friend.
She startled at the glimmer of another bright spot, and her eyes widened as another Imperial emerged, the runic markings on his hide all but glowing in the shadows. He swept almost impassive eyes over all of them as he approached, slow and steady, and dipped his head to Shroud's, offering a welcome.
(I . . . got a teensy bit carried away and have made myself stop here before I can spill too many more words to continue this small drama. ^^;)
@NebulaDragon Here is what I wrote for the pair, Shroud (#56463404) and I have called the unnamed male (#60788624) Varynze! Also featuring Carmynne and Sunnis from my clan~
Though there was no place precisely safe for a pair of young dragons alone, Shroud could not help but relax a little as she passed into the dim realm of the Tangled Wood that was her homeland. Varynze moved closer to her, warm against her side, and she purred reassuringly. She had grown swiftly very fond of the younger dragon almost despite herself, and when he had fretted that he would be left behind all but swept him along with her. They would find a new place together, she thought, and brushed his slightly knobby spine with one wing.
Much as she wished to believe she was safe, here in her homeland, Shroud kept on alert, and she twisted with striking speed as she saw a gleam of something bright in the shadows. Varynze made a questioning noise and Shroud hushed him, swiftly picking out the stout figure of an approaching dragon.
Shroud remained where she was, Varynze tucked mostly behind her and one wing creeping down to hide him away a little more.
The unfamiliar dragon was another Nocturne, like her young friend, but older, older than them both if Shroud judged right - Shroud dwarfed her already but she was more than twice Varynze's size, a respectably-grown Nocturne. Shroud let out a warning shriek as fire-bright eyes - brighter even than the red glow of Varynze's plague eyes, which had taken time for her to grow used to - lit on them. Shroud drew herself up with a glare.
The other Nocturne tilted her head, green flashes showing along her eyes and her slowly curling tail. She all but crooned, stretching out her neck and dipping her head, though it was not in submission or fear. Shroud showed her teeth.
A darting rush brought the stranger close and Shroud opened her jaws only to be surprised by a gentle touch to her jaw, followed by a crooning noise as the Nocturne female all but nudged under Shroud's wing to inspect Varynze, who tensed but chirruped back to her. Shroud resisted the impulse to snarl a warning, but lowered herself close enough to be both shield and strike if need be.
The stranger Nocturne only clucked and nuzzled, gently offered friendly gestures, and Shroud felt wrong-footed . . . but not . . . unhappy. She had missed the company of others beyond her new friend.
She startled at the glimmer of another bright spot, and her eyes widened as another Imperial emerged, the runic markings on his hide all but glowing in the shadows. He swept almost impassive eyes over all of them as he approached, slow and steady, and dipped his head to Shroud's, offering a welcome.
(I . . . got a teensy bit carried away and have made myself stop here before I can spill too many more words to continue this small drama. ^^;)
Though there was no place precisely safe for a pair of young dragons alone, Shroud could not help but relax a little as she passed into the dim realm of the Tangled Wood that was her homeland. Varynze moved closer to her, warm against her side, and she purred reassuringly. She had grown swiftly very fond of the younger dragon almost despite herself, and when he had fretted that he would be left behind all but swept him along with her. They would find a new place together, she thought, and brushed his slightly knobby spine with one wing.
Much as she wished to believe she was safe, here in her homeland, Shroud kept on alert, and she twisted with striking speed as she saw a gleam of something bright in the shadows. Varynze made a questioning noise and Shroud hushed him, swiftly picking out the stout figure of an approaching dragon.
Shroud remained where she was, Varynze tucked mostly behind her and one wing creeping down to hide him away a little more.
The unfamiliar dragon was another Nocturne, like her young friend, but older, older than them both if Shroud judged right - Shroud dwarfed her already but she was more than twice Varynze's size, a respectably-grown Nocturne. Shroud let out a warning shriek as fire-bright eyes - brighter even than the red glow of Varynze's plague eyes, which had taken time for her to grow used to - lit on them. Shroud drew herself up with a glare.
The other Nocturne tilted her head, green flashes showing along her eyes and her slowly curling tail. She all but crooned, stretching out her neck and dipping her head, though it was not in submission or fear. Shroud showed her teeth.
A darting rush brought the stranger close and Shroud opened her jaws only to be surprised by a gentle touch to her jaw, followed by a crooning noise as the Nocturne female all but nudged under Shroud's wing to inspect Varynze, who tensed but chirruped back to her. Shroud resisted the impulse to snarl a warning, but lowered herself close enough to be both shield and strike if need be.
The stranger Nocturne only clucked and nuzzled, gently offered friendly gestures, and Shroud felt wrong-footed . . . but not . . . unhappy. She had missed the company of others beyond her new friend.
She startled at the glimmer of another bright spot, and her eyes widened as another Imperial emerged, the runic markings on his hide all but glowing in the shadows. He swept almost impassive eyes over all of them as he approached, slow and steady, and dipped his head to Shroud's, offering a welcome.
(I . . . got a teensy bit carried away and have made myself stop here before I can spill too many more words to continue this small drama. ^^;)
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FR+2
she/her or they/them writer and crafter by passion and trade |
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@NebulaDragon Hold Please [url=https://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=37038713]
[img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/350/370388/37038713_350.png[/img]
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@NebulaDragon Hold Please
@NebulaDragon I will be changing his name to: Soren
[url=https://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=37038713]
[img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/350/370388/37038713_350.png[/img]
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[i]Soren was always said to be just like his mother, elegant, quiet, reserved, shy and all in all more like a stereotypical fair noble lady than anything else. However he knew that he was nothing like that, he was determined, stubborn, arrogant and self-centred. He knew his status, his strength and his ability and he took advantage of it to utilise it. When he was bored he had no trouble sneaking into other dragons nests and crushing pairs he saw as below him in status' eggs. But never got caught, although arrogant he was smart and knew his limits.
Eventually on one of these egg killing escapades he was caught in the act, his claws still covered in the blood of half developed hatchlings and wrapped around the final remaining egg of the nest. It was the mother who had walked in, the clan head... The pure fury in her eyes as she realised what had been happening. The egg killer she had just had a meeting about, had managed to slip in and kill the other ones of her future hatchlings.
She growled threateningly and Soren smirked back not expecting this situation but quickly coming up with a plan, it was a that moment he was thankful he had not yet destroyed the final egg. He held up the egg slightly and narrowed his eyes, a silent threat, an effective threat. Slowly she bowed her head, stepping back to allow him to leave, her eyes full of sorrow, anger, pain and a further mix of negative emotions. Soren walked out standing in the slightly remote lair with the angry clan head inside before stretching his claw out, offering the egg.
The clan head stepped forward with urgency to grab it, but just missed and he pulled it back to himself. A cruel look in his eyes as he smirked stretching open his large wings reflecting the sun-light. He threw the egg up and down slowly, licking his lips at the power of being able to threaten someone of higher status than himself. He was addicted to this feeling. The feeling of power and superiority.
"See oh great Clan-Head, I would return to you the final memento of your dead mate. But I much more enjoy the idea of stealing them away to a place you'll never know about their well being or condition."
In that moment he used his tail to brush dirt into the clan-heads eyes before taking off, running to find a new home, a new place, a new area to control and conquer.[/i]
@NebulaDragon I will be changing his name to: Soren
Soren was always said to be just like his mother, elegant, quiet, reserved, shy and all in all more like a stereotypical fair noble lady than anything else. However he knew that he was nothing like that, he was determined, stubborn, arrogant and self-centred. He knew his status, his strength and his ability and he took advantage of it to utilise it. When he was bored he had no trouble sneaking into other dragons nests and crushing pairs he saw as below him in status' eggs. But never got caught, although arrogant he was smart and knew his limits.
Eventually on one of these egg killing escapades he was caught in the act, his claws still covered in the blood of half developed hatchlings and wrapped around the final remaining egg of the nest. It was the mother who had walked in, the clan head... The pure fury in her eyes as she realised what had been happening. The egg killer she had just had a meeting about, had managed to slip in and kill the other ones of her future hatchlings.
She growled threateningly and Soren smirked back not expecting this situation but quickly coming up with a plan, it was a that moment he was thankful he had not yet destroyed the final egg. He held up the egg slightly and narrowed his eyes, a silent threat, an effective threat. Slowly she bowed her head, stepping back to allow him to leave, her eyes full of sorrow, anger, pain and a further mix of negative emotions. Soren walked out standing in the slightly remote lair with the angry clan head inside before stretching his claw out, offering the egg.
The clan head stepped forward with urgency to grab it, but just missed and he pulled it back to himself. A cruel look in his eyes as he smirked stretching open his large wings reflecting the sun-light. He threw the egg up and down slowly, licking his lips at the power of being able to threaten someone of higher status than himself. He was addicted to this feeling. The feeling of power and superiority.
"See oh great Clan-Head, I would return to you the final memento of your dead mate. But I much more enjoy the idea of stealing them away to a place you'll never know about their well being or condition."
In that moment he used his tail to brush dirt into the clan-heads eyes before taking off, running to find a new home, a new place, a new area to control and conquer.
Soren was always said to be just like his mother, elegant, quiet, reserved, shy and all in all more like a stereotypical fair noble lady than anything else. However he knew that he was nothing like that, he was determined, stubborn, arrogant and self-centred. He knew his status, his strength and his ability and he took advantage of it to utilise it. When he was bored he had no trouble sneaking into other dragons nests and crushing pairs he saw as below him in status' eggs. But never got caught, although arrogant he was smart and knew his limits.
Eventually on one of these egg killing escapades he was caught in the act, his claws still covered in the blood of half developed hatchlings and wrapped around the final remaining egg of the nest. It was the mother who had walked in, the clan head... The pure fury in her eyes as she realised what had been happening. The egg killer she had just had a meeting about, had managed to slip in and kill the other ones of her future hatchlings.
She growled threateningly and Soren smirked back not expecting this situation but quickly coming up with a plan, it was a that moment he was thankful he had not yet destroyed the final egg. He held up the egg slightly and narrowed his eyes, a silent threat, an effective threat. Slowly she bowed her head, stepping back to allow him to leave, her eyes full of sorrow, anger, pain and a further mix of negative emotions. Soren walked out standing in the slightly remote lair with the angry clan head inside before stretching his claw out, offering the egg.
The clan head stepped forward with urgency to grab it, but just missed and he pulled it back to himself. A cruel look in his eyes as he smirked stretching open his large wings reflecting the sun-light. He threw the egg up and down slowly, licking his lips at the power of being able to threaten someone of higher status than himself. He was addicted to this feeling. The feeling of power and superiority.
"See oh great Clan-Head, I would return to you the final memento of your dead mate. But I much more enjoy the idea of stealing them away to a place you'll never know about their well being or condition."
In that moment he used his tail to brush dirt into the clan-heads eyes before taking off, running to find a new home, a new place, a new area to control and conquer.
I am not a writer by any means (hence my procrastinating putting my lair's lore in writing) but i really like this lad so i'll give it an attempt.
I intend to rename him Yorith!
[url=https://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=44327655]
[img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/350/443277/44327655_350.png[/img]
[/url]
(i will edit this with what i write bc i know its gonna take me quite a while lol)
I am not a writer by any means (hence my procrastinating putting my lair's lore in writing) but i really like this lad so i'll give it an attempt.
I intend to rename him Yorith!
(i will edit this with what i write bc i know its gonna take me quite a while lol)
I intend to rename him Yorith!
(i will edit this with what i write bc i know its gonna take me quite a while lol)
@NebulaDragon
Decided to make a new post bc I'm not sure editing pings in works on this site lmao
Also I hope this is enough;; (and also not the worst to read lmao)
[url=https://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=44327655]
[img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/350/443277/44327655_350.png[/img]
[/url]
Yorith stretched and the dim dawn light refracted off of his great crystalline wings. He looked down upon the Starwood, as the blooms closed, as if to rest their weary eyes against the coming daylight. Behind him, light steady steps approached. No need to turn, he already knew what was coming. A soft, but stern feminine voice sounded from beside him. "I've been looking for you." There was a certain quiet urgency to her tone that Yorith recognized.
"I had a feeling you might," Yorith answered calmly. "You can't keep Providence waiting forever. Surely you must know that," said Eris, her adornments swaying in the light morning breeze. After a brief silence he spoke. "Eris, you should know by now that I respect you. But I can't choose. Why should I? Why should any of us have to choose?" To choose between the art of sorcery, or the science of alchemy, seemed to Yorith inane. But to serve the Arcanist in one study, or the other was the way of their clan, as it had been for generations and generations, long even before Eris was The Matriarch.
Eris, ever calm, looked Yorith in his eyes. She knew how he struggled, for she once struggled the same. They were not bound to the Arcanist by blood, the way many of their clan were. Those born into the the blood of the Arcanist often tended to pursue service to Him through one of the schools very young. "You came to be here through Serendipity, Yorith, but this must be your choice. It is a wonderful thing, to be given choice." They fell silent, as the sun rose, and its rays bathed them in golden light.
And yet, Yorith knew.. He could not.
@NebulaDragon
Decided to make a new post bc I'm not sure editing pings in works on this site lmao
Also I hope this is enough;; (and also not the worst to read lmao)
Yorith stretched and the dim dawn light refracted off of his great crystalline wings. He looked down upon the Starwood, as the blooms closed, as if to rest their weary eyes against the coming daylight. Behind him, light steady steps approached. No need to turn, he already knew what was coming. A soft, but stern feminine voice sounded from beside him. "I've been looking for you." There was a certain quiet urgency to her tone that Yorith recognized.
"I had a feeling you might," Yorith answered calmly. "You can't keep Providence waiting forever. Surely you must know that," said Eris, her adornments swaying in the light morning breeze. After a brief silence he spoke. "Eris, you should know by now that I respect you. But I can't choose. Why should I? Why should any of us have to choose?" To choose between the art of sorcery, or the science of alchemy, seemed to Yorith inane. But to serve the Arcanist in one study, or the other was the way of their clan, as it had been for generations and generations, long even before Eris was The Matriarch.
Eris, ever calm, looked Yorith in his eyes. She knew how he struggled, for she once struggled the same. They were not bound to the Arcanist by blood, the way many of their clan were. Those born into the the blood of the Arcanist often tended to pursue service to Him through one of the schools very young. "You came to be here through Serendipity, Yorith, but this must be your choice. It is a wonderful thing, to be given choice." They fell silent, as the sun rose, and its rays bathed them in golden light.
And yet, Yorith knew.. He could not.
Decided to make a new post bc I'm not sure editing pings in works on this site lmao
Also I hope this is enough;; (and also not the worst to read lmao)
Yorith stretched and the dim dawn light refracted off of his great crystalline wings. He looked down upon the Starwood, as the blooms closed, as if to rest their weary eyes against the coming daylight. Behind him, light steady steps approached. No need to turn, he already knew what was coming. A soft, but stern feminine voice sounded from beside him. "I've been looking for you." There was a certain quiet urgency to her tone that Yorith recognized.
"I had a feeling you might," Yorith answered calmly. "You can't keep Providence waiting forever. Surely you must know that," said Eris, her adornments swaying in the light morning breeze. After a brief silence he spoke. "Eris, you should know by now that I respect you. But I can't choose. Why should I? Why should any of us have to choose?" To choose between the art of sorcery, or the science of alchemy, seemed to Yorith inane. But to serve the Arcanist in one study, or the other was the way of their clan, as it had been for generations and generations, long even before Eris was The Matriarch.
Eris, ever calm, looked Yorith in his eyes. She knew how he struggled, for she once struggled the same. They were not bound to the Arcanist by blood, the way many of their clan were. Those born into the the blood of the Arcanist often tended to pursue service to Him through one of the schools very young. "You came to be here through Serendipity, Yorith, but this must be your choice. It is a wonderful thing, to be given choice." They fell silent, as the sun rose, and its rays bathed them in golden light.
And yet, Yorith knew.. He could not.
