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a desert triumvirate of Hold, Weyr, and Mine. Thread's return and bandit raiding brought strife between weyr and hold, but the bandits' recent defeat has returned the region to an uneasy peace. Now, a shipwreck on a forgotten continent and the decision to settle this rediscovered land has opened up a world of opportunity to Vaioa, if only they can handle the dangers.








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An Evening Jog; open!
Topic Started: Dec 5 2015, 08:48 PM (176 Views)
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Weyrling
The air was filled with the sounds of waves crashing against the rocky shore, the constant ebb and flow was always a comfortable white noise for Ramhir when he sat upon the rocks to think. He was 12 years old, an unburdened child with not many cares in the world. The afternoon light blanketed the boy in a calming warmth. He sat cross-legged on the beach with his eyes closed, he took in the sounds and smells, feeling the salt spray on his face.

Suddenly the sky began to darken, a storm was moving in-- and quickly. Ramhir barely had time to get to his feet before a swell rose before him and knocked him down again. When he tried to breathe, he tasted not the clean summer air but the briney bitterness of sea water filling his lungs. The waves kept crashing into him, over and over, dragging him farther under the dark waters....

--

Ramhir awoke in a cold sweat, face to face with large yellow-orange swirling eyes. The weight on his chest was not, in fact, crashing waves-- but instead his wher, half-lying across his chest with a concerned expression on his wrinkled face. The water spraying his face was also, unfortunately, not sea-spray, but in actuality was Ramsk licking his face.

You need wake up. Have bad dream-- you wake Ramsk up! Very rude. You okay now, calm yourself. Ramsk stood up with a huff, and sat down on his haunches. You know what Ramsk do when have bad feels? Go run. You want go?

Ramhir felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth as he heard Ramsk's self-serving suggestion. Of course the blue wanted to go run, that's all he ever wanted to do. It seemed the wher had a literally unending reserve of energy, which would serve them both well in any kind of Troop activities they would partake in. Of course, neither of them were doing much since the re-bonding, they were wherlings again and had a lot of work to do before either of them saw any real action. Ramhir did not mind taking things slow, but Ramsk was a ball of restless energy and needed some sort of purpose in order to not drive his handler mad.

Come on run with Ramsk. Good wake up. The darkly-hued blue pranced anxiously by the door of their room, eager to start their 'day'.

"I guess you're right, it can't hurt." Ramhir groaned as he stretched, feeling a few satisfying cracks down his spine. Truth be told, he was rather touched that Ramsk had felt the need to wake him from his unsettling dream. The two had been finding a nice rhythm while working together that made the handler feel a bit more confident in his decision to stay here and re-bond one of the rounded up bandit whers. They had a rocky start, with Ramsk's overwhelming energy and stubbornness, but Ramhir was a patient man and did not try to rush the wher's acceptance of him. Knowing that these re-bonded whers probably had a rough lot in life before Vaioa made it a bit easier to forgive when Ramsk refused to leave his room or acted up when training.

Of course Ramsk right. Come on, skinny! Barking laughter could be heard as Ramsk tore out of the room, and Ramhir cringed at the wher's aggravating pet-name for him. Pulling on his boots with a sigh, he jogged out of his room after the blue.

Wait up, bud!

No! You catch Ramsk!

[align=center]Posted Image[/align]
[align=center]Nisoeth and Vharra | Salbith and Siadryn | Axtroth and Shadia | Darenoth and N'mir | Coureth and Avharin | Chimerth and Jindra | Ramsk and Ramhir | Candidate Alishir
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33CCFF A3A3A3 C9AF94 887200 20B2AA B13E0F 2B547E[/align]
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