#bringerxfstorms

“ stormbringer, ”  she repeats, voice soft, pitched low. she is not afraid  --  her bright eyes, every rise and wondering fall of her chest. she thinks, half-noticed, of whether he will let her climb atop his mountain of scales, for she knows every dragon has its own heart. every beast owns itself and this one is all marvel before her.

“ it’s fitting. for a dragon as majestic as you. you must truly make the skies your own. ”

“Is this the thank I get for catching you, my lady?” She was not as heavy, even with her armor. But a grin did grace his lips. “You’re heaver than I expected.”

        “If I finish this book, will I get a puppy?”  The girl had a sharp mind, but there was only so much human understanding could truly grasp before they grew bored and tired of studying, especially when it was such a sunny day. Sometimes she would prefer to look out of the window and daydream instead of focusing on the writings she was supposed to read. They were too demanding for a child her age. However, as her tutors would always repeat: she was blessed to be in such a position and should stop acting up. 

A clever little girl, capable of giving quite some attitude while trying to explore the limits of that which she was permitted to do. Apparently, she had decided she needed a furry companion of her own, one that would bring her cheer, distraction and warmth. She wanted to play in the gardens, go in the forests, spend more time with her pony, ready fairytales instead of rivellonic history. Practice climbing and summersaulting instead of swordfighting. Jump silly instead of dancing pretty.  Instead, she was sitting in this library and reading a text she barely understood. 

“Well, well. I’ve not seen the likes of you in the Wilds before; surely, you cannot be of the Chasind.”

Masquerade time~ || Accepting

Lana peered up at the man as he held a glass out to her. She seemed shocked for a few moments, surprised anyone cared to come and talk to her. She was simply here to guard someone, and yet... 

The corner of her lips tugged up in a light smile and she nodded, “Thank you.” She took the glass from his hand gently, adjusting the beautifully decorated red and black mask at the edge of her nose. Her blue eyes seemed so much brighter beneath all the dark colors, almost seeming sharper as she eyed him curiously. “Why the offer? It’s not poisoned is it?” She joked, but then felt cautious, wondering if that could be the case.

The very touch was like paper met with individual grains of sand. Portions of sandpaper, the jagged nature of protruding bones indenting individual pages. In what world had he found himself where the only company he dared allowed himself to truly feel were the thinning pages of a tome? A world where, dare he lift his eyes from the history before him, it would wring him dry.

     But there was so little to be wrung from dusty old bones.      Algrenon hadn’t minded. Every sensation, every movement      felt numb and the man before him could hear his neck       CREAK as the Nightfallen’s gaze settled warily upon him.      The markings that littered his face had no light to them,      and every crease beneath his cracking lips and heavy      eyes grew deeper the more he furrowed his expression.       Disdain. Distrust. And yet beyond it there remained a      neutral smile, almost as if it had been tapped there      lopsided by a child. But the very expression was a      constant struggle with his face to keep the corners of his      mouth from sinking far down into the crevices in his chin. 

          He wasn’t COMFORTABLE with company.