Splash. Splash. Lift off. (Vignette)
I think I'll be around again to RP on the weekend. My in-laws plan to leave on Friday. Pending that... here's a vignette of a milestone I didn't want to miss. :)
*SPLASH*
Mohraith utterly failed to hang in the air, crashed face first into the lake, thrashed about gracelessly, and came up with a big gulp of air and a tremendously (un)convincing swagger. << SEE?! I told you this'd be easy, Mait! >>
Standing on the shoreline, his head cocked, M'try wasn't sure whether or not this was one of those instances when he ought to just let Mohraith have his meant-to-do-that-way or maybe, just maybe point out that crash-landing in the shallows does not a nicely executed glide make. He opted, with a smirk, to answer, Indeed. Now, when do you get to the actual gliding part, I wonder? He was just vaguely gratified at what he could overhear of his dragon's sendings to his clutchmates, about how he was just showing everyone how great it'd be if they all took a quick splash in the lake. IN THE LAKE!
<< Watch, Mait! THIS IS HOW YOU GLIDE! >> And M'try was pretty sure that last had been shared with the others, which is why that second *SPLASH* made him burst out with an uncharacteristically pronounced guffaw. Mohraith had dragged his hind legs too low, fouling a talon in the surface of the lake and dragging himself down with another stubborn swagger, splashing and thrashing to make a great show out of his failure.
After promising his dragon was unhurt-- "Aside from his pride, perhaps, but you'd never know it to look at him."
The third attempt did the trick, and those heavy feet left the ground with certainty, lifted and tucked, and M'try felt a surge of proud relief. Mohraith could fly (or glide, technically, but this was a bubble that he opted not to burst), and the tingling pleasure of it struck his rider. << Wait till we do this together, Mait! >> was the eager, elated promise.
*SPLASH*
Mohraith utterly failed to hang in the air, crashed face first into the lake, thrashed about gracelessly, and came up with a big gulp of air and a tremendously (un)convincing swagger. << SEE?! I told you this'd be easy, Mait! >>
Standing on the shoreline, his head cocked, M'try wasn't sure whether or not this was one of those instances when he ought to just let Mohraith have his meant-to-do-that-way or maybe, just maybe point out that crash-landing in the shallows does not a nicely executed glide make. He opted, with a smirk, to answer, Indeed. Now, when do you get to the actual gliding part, I wonder? He was just vaguely gratified at what he could overhear of his dragon's sendings to his clutchmates, about how he was just showing everyone how great it'd be if they all took a quick splash in the lake. IN THE LAKE!
<< Watch, Mait! THIS IS HOW YOU GLIDE! >> And M'try was pretty sure that last had been shared with the others, which is why that second *SPLASH* made him burst out with an uncharacteristically pronounced guffaw. Mohraith had dragged his hind legs too low, fouling a talon in the surface of the lake and dragging himself down with another stubborn swagger, splashing and thrashing to make a great show out of his failure.
After promising his dragon was unhurt-- "Aside from his pride, perhaps, but you'd never know it to look at him."
The third attempt did the trick, and those heavy feet left the ground with certainty, lifted and tucked, and M'try felt a surge of proud relief. Mohraith could fly (or glide, technically, but this was a bubble that he opted not to burst), and the tingling pleasure of it struck his rider. << Wait till we do this together, Mait! >> was the eager, elated promise.