Disturbed Peace (OPEN)

[banditfly]

"Aauuggghh!"

One little root was all it took to send Milkwort tumbling 10 feet down a hill over prickly bushes and rocks. By the time he had come to a rest, he wanted to just lay there and pretend he was at home in his bed. A sharp rock poking into his gut made that delusion rather hard to contrive and he gave up by opening his eyes and sitting on his legs. The forest was quiet and he almost forgot he was being chased by an insane two-headed dragon. It was only when a heard a certain thud that made his stomach churn, though he knew not what it was, that he returned to reality. He glanced over his shoulder up the hill he had just quite ungracefully rolled down. He could see the branches of the trees over the ground swaying and the leaves falling in a disturbed manner. Something had just fallen.

A shudder expelled through the boy's body as he imagined the possibilities. What if it was Ayamayr? If it had been a dragon that had fallen, the impact would have been much greater. Milkwort had not put much mind in the ones who had just recently joined in on this chaotic situation. In fact, he still didn't realize that he and Ayamayr weren't the only humans here. All he had seen was the dragon and the sight of another destructive monster had been less than pleasing to him.

Though his dirty and sore body ached in protest, Milkwort jumped to his feet and crawled back up the hill. He didn't want to think about what he would see at the top, so he channeled his anxiety into his legs as he pushed forward. Once at level ground once more, he spotted a heap of something just ahead. He hoped it was only twigs and leaves and just some inanimate object, but as he got closer he could see it was just as he had feared. Though she was not Ayamayr (thank god; he wouldn't have been able to take anymore guilt), she was certainly a human.

Milkwort crouched over the girl's possibly broken body, not sure what to do. She seemed to be unconscious--at least, he hoped to god it was that and not the other thing. He was starting to panic, his cracked voice revealing that quite clearly. "H-Hey! Are y-you okay?! You--" He couldn't remember this girl's name at this very second, though she was familiar enough to him that he recognized that she was from Berk. "Aw, man. Please wake up..." He didn't want to touch her. What if her spine was damaged? He could make it worse... But what if she was suffocating? How would he know whether or not a revival procedure was necessary? Shaking, he bent over the girl, inching closer until their noses were nearly touching to check for any breaths.

A terrible shriek shattered the sky as Jerk felt two claws wrap tightly around his neck. A suddenly weight was thrown onto him that neither heads could attempt to counterweight and they all went falling into the trees just below. Sharp branches jabbed at his scales and stabbed into his vulnerable wings. He was in a rather awkward position. In the two seconds that it had taken to fall into the trees, the Zippleback had twisted around in a desperate attempt to break free and was now stuck on his back. His long necks were tangled in the branches in such a way that, try as they might, they could not break free. Though Bully's head had a good view of the sky from where he was stuck, Jerk was trapped underneath the trees within the forest. Both scanned the area for Nayrol, unsure of where he had landed. Bully spotted Daevra immediately and started making individually squawks to warn his twin, who started wriggling erratically in respond. Such movements were only tightening the entanglement of their necks and starting to hinder their ability to breath. Gasping with fury, Jerk stopped struggling and listened.

[wolfheart]

Nayrol landed heavily on his right wing. He stretched out his neck and saw J-B tangled messily in the trees, listening. He slowly crept up on them, the scarlet blood covering his bright silver scales, and whipped his tail round, weakening the trees they were stuck on. Finally, he spread out his wings and took off, smiling as he heard them creak under the weight of the Zippleback.

His pleasure vanished the moment he saw his master's limp body lying on the forest floor. He crashed into a nearby tree because he was so intent on reaching her. He stumbled forward, shaking blood from his head, and gently licked Wolf's face. She was breathing, but her left leg looked a little odd.

Nai made small reptilian noises, nosing the human he cared for so much. He was about to nudge her again when he stumbled sideways, his silver wings now drenched in blood. He looked blearily at them, before turning his head to Milk. He gave a loud roar, sounding like he was calling for help. His attention drew back to the human kneeling by his master. He growled. What had this person done? He knew deep down they were only trying to help, but he glared at him, flashing his claws.

[aya]

«« tell me i'm frozen but what can i do? »»
«« can't tell the reasons i did it for you »»

a y a m a y r  &  d a e v r a

  Daevra landed close to Milkwort and the unconscious Wolflegs, though minding his descent as to not cause a disturbance for the injured girl. His eyes never left Jerk and Bully as Nayrol pounced him in mid-air, which in turn caused the Zippleback to become lodged in the intertwining labyrinth of the tree tops. As Nayrol let the trapped dragon be, Daevra stealthily crawled his way closer, prepping to jump Jerk and Bully should they pry themselves free. Though Daevra has no intention of harming the green beast, merely pin his lower mass body immobile until he could decide what to do with him.
  But as the Timperjack kept a locked sapphire eye on the dragon in the trees, he wondered if he really could dislodge himself, though surely he could, with his sleek form. But the thought was still lingering in his mind…

  Once her silver companion carefully dropped to the ground, Ayamayr leapt from his back and sprinted for the other humans. Opposite Milkwort, she sat on her calves, and took a look over Wolflegs. Right when Ayamayr feared the worst, she saw the girl’s heaving chest and let out a breath of relief.
  Upon Nayrol’s sudden anger, Ayamayr steadily rose her hands and lightly batted down, urging the dragon to cool down. Speaking the tongue of the dragons was by no means something she could apprehend, but reading the mood-swingy emotions of a dragon was something she believes she conquered—since she must have the most neurotic dragon there is living with her. She gave the perturbed dragon a—hopefully—comforting, though reserved, gaze as to further soothe his stress.
  “She’s not dead,” Ayamayr uttered in a calm tone. She glanced at the motionless figure lying next to her, and then noticed the disturbing angle her leg was positioned in. “But it would be best to get her to the village,” she continued in the same note, finally lowering her hands to her lap.
  Casting a glance over Milkwort, she concluded that today had left him distraught at the least. But it probably doesn’t help that one’s dragon tried to go on a killing rampage. Her countenance mirrored, for once, her thoughts. She was upset the day didn’t go smoother; troubled that Daevra became, however minor, hurt; almost mournful that Milkwort couldn’t experience the trustful bond of a dragon; and even sad that the girl she only knew the face of might have to live on a limp, should the fates be so. In other words, she would say that she, too, was distraught by the happenings so far.
  Ayamayr’s eye caught movement and followed as Daevra snuck close to the ground, quietly slithering through the trees. It was then she remembered Jerk and Bully’s captured body from the view on Daevra’s back. With an almost inaudible chuckle, she turned back to Milkwort. “You might not have to worry about J-B, Dae’s on the task now,” she stated with humour etching her tone.

«« when lies turn into truth i sacrificed for you »»
«« you say that i'm frozen but what can i do? »»

[banditfly]

Milkwort had jumped to his feet and stumbled back several steps the second Nayrol tossed himself into the trees to get to the girl. As per usual, his initial reaction was fear driven. He wanted to run, especially as the dragon roared and growled at him, but he somehow managed to stop himself. He was really sick and tired of all these dragons by now and had long since lost his patience for them. He clenched his hands into fists and his fear rather abruptly subsided to anger. He gave the Nightmare a furious glare, half expecting himself to roar right back to it despite it being one of the most dangerous dragons in the world.

However, Aya appeared before he could do anything stupid and the gust of wind that always followed after Daevra's landing brought him back to his senses. He watched nervously as Aya examined the fallen girl and possibly felt just as relieved as her dragon in hearing that she wasn't dead. He saw his own emotions reflected in Aya's upset expression and suddenly felt very tired. Today had been a disaster. To believe that he had come to the fields that morning expecting a calm and uneventful day of bug watching.

Now it was nearly sunset and in only a few hours it would be dark. Milkwort forced himself to focus on the situation at hand. Indeed they would need to get this girl back to the village, and fast. This forest would be impossible to navigate through at night. He glanced up at Nayrol, considering. It would be much faster and easier to just ride on it, though he himself would have to refuse and walk. However, the Nightmare's wings were smothered in blood and it looked rather dazed. It probably wouldn't even be able to fly itself around safely, let alone any passengers.

Milkwort glanced behind him at Aya's last remark, watching as Daevra skulked off to confront J-B. He couldn't find it in himself to even smile at that. Daevra had been downed by J-B before. Not only that, but just what did the silver Timperjack expect to do to J-B if he did manage to win? Would he kill the Zippleback? Despite the many times that he had claimed he didn't care or what the two-headed menace had caused today, the boy suddenly found himself rather disliking the idea.

But at least now they could focus on getting this girl back to Berk. "So, um... How should we do this?" He stammered, kneeling down again. They had to lift her carefully as to not further damage that leg, but they still had to be able to walk quickly to avoid nightfall.

J-B never saw Nayrol as he crippled the trees below him and caused them to shatter under his weight. The two heads could only utter a short shriek before all the trees collapsed into one another and the Zippleback fell with them to the ground. Still trapped on his back, J-B was now pinned underneath several tree trunks and branches. Both heads were free enough to spot anyone who might try to sneak up on them, but they were hopelessly trapped within the wreckage of trees. The weight pressed down on the Zippleback's chest most uncomfortably and one leg was particularly painful. Even Jerk was rather exhausted by now and they made little attempt to break free. All they could do was glance around vulnerably for any adversaries.

[wolfheart]

Nai ignored the girl, but he sighed with relief as Wolf drew a shuddering breath. He watched her warmly. For a short while, nothing happened. Then suddenly, Nai staggered sideways, his wing still pouring with blood. He stumbled to the floor. His own blood was gushing out in front of him. He paused. His blood was red. Wasn't dragon blood green? That was why they were called greenbloods. So why was a torrent of scarlet coming out of his wing?

Wolf has heard everything very faintly, as if she was dreaming. I only know one person who would save me... she thought. She opened her eyes. A face swam in and out of focus. Stupidly forgetting two other people had been with her, she rested her gaze on someone she assumed had come to rescue her.
"Haki... is that you? I'm sorry..." she whispered softly, staring blearily upwards. Nai stiffened. Wolf wasn't meant to say the outlaw's name! The silver Nightmare watched curiously as Wolf looked at Milk. Who did she think he was? Did she really believe he was Haki, the outlaw?

Wolf slowly stretched up her hand to Milk, still totally confused. Her leg hurt badly. Stabbing pains shot up to her thigh every few seconds, but she hardly noticed. Her eyes were fixed on the fuzzy shape above her.

[aya]

«« tell me i'm frozen but what can i do? »»
«« can't tell the reasons i did it for you »»

a y a m a y r  &  d a e v r a

  Daevra continued to hide his body amongst the trees, but as he watched Jerk and Bully helplessly crash to the ground, accompanied with the likes of other prickly branches that no doubt proved to be irritants, he couldn’t bring himself to watch it anymore. He didn’t know what drove him to do so, but it wasn’t pity—the only thing the Timperjack could pity in this Zippleback is that he couldn’t see the true power and friendship a dragon could find in a human. But he didn’t feel up to pressuring the matter now, as there were no humans in the immediate area. With this in mind, Daevra revealed himself—though it was entirely possible the other might have noticed him anyway. As he inched his way toward Jerk and Bully, he lowered his head slightly when he witnessed the close up of his predicament. Now his motive seemed clearer.
  Daevra lifted his tail, over the tree and Jerk and Bully. With a splintering crash, the Timperjack’s spiked tail caught hold and dug into the wood, though mindfully missing the lodged dragon within its grasp. Withdrawing his tail, Daevra drug a good chunk of the fallen tree away, having further weakened it. Behind him and away from Jerk and Bully, he dangled his tail, trying to relieve him of the annoying bark until it collapsed to the grassy earth again.
  His blue gaze rounded on Jerk and Bully, though in a strong, nonthreatening manner. He didn’t want to fight them, not anymore. Though he wasn’t so dense that he could hope to forget the irreparable damage done to their initial bond from partaking in tag. Even with this known, Daevra wished that their relationship could have lasted—even if it could only manage without the presence of humans. The dragon seemed to be a good opponent, and by judging off this notion, he believed the Zippleback would be a fierce though enjoyable companion to have.

  “I’m not too sure, she uttered uncertainly at Milkwort’s query, she gave another look at Nayrol’s injury, assuring her thought. “But we need to do something," she added, taking in the amount of daylight remaining as well.
  Haki…? Ayamayr echoed, though curious of the name. She must have hit her head hard, she concluded, since the girl’s eyes were opening, though still had not made the connection that whoever this “Haki” was, he or she wasn’t present. She glanced at Nayrol as he seemed to stand rigid for an instance.
  Giving an affirmative look to Milkwort, she scooted to the girl’s legs, preparing to heft them. With a sidelong peer to the Nightmare, silently questioning if the act was alright.

«« when lies turn into truth i sacrificed for you »»
«« you say that i'm frozen but what can i do? »»

[banditfly]

Milkwort could hardly bring himself to pay attention to the dragon towering over them anymore, though he did become briefly distracted every time it growled or stumbled. He stiffened a bit when it seemed as though the girl was coming to. How would she react to her injury? She might scream. If she tried to move, it would only damage the leg further. The boy was almost ready to hold the girl down, but stopped when she started speaking.

The name "Haki" was completely unfamiliar to him and he didn't about it any further. She must have been mistaking him for someone else. Perhaps he was a family member and they could look for this person when they made it to Berk. Regardless, he couldn't quite think of what to do but just sit there as the girl started reaching up to him. Finally, he grabbed her hand firmly and tried to give her the best confident look he had, even if she couldn't see him clearly. "Hey, we're going to help you out, okay? You're going to be all right."

He took Ayamayr's cue and moved himself toward the girl's head. He took a hold of the girl under her shoulders and prepared to lift them at the same pace as Aya. He caught her cautious glance toward the Nightmare and gave it a quick one of his own, then couldn't help but look off into the direction Daevra had gone in. It was awfully quiet to assume they were still fighting. Milkwort tried not to think about any of them having been killed--he wasn't supposed to care, anyway.

The Hideous Zippleback had been scanning the area with a soft growl until Daevra allowed himself to be seen. Both heads stared at him wide eyed in utter silence. Jerk breathed heavily in weak defiance. The Timperjack could very well kill them right now. It would be so easy. Any wild dragon who had been challenged and damaged like J-B had done to Daevra would certainly do it. The Zippleback made one last feeble attempt to break free before stopping as Daevra reached them. Jerk snarled as Bully just stared. They were completely at the Timperjack's mercy now and fully expected to feel his wrath.

However, much to their surprise, just as it seemed as though Daevra were preparing to impale their stomach with his tail, the heavy weight of one of the trees atop the pinned dragon was lifted. It was one of the bigger ones and made a significant difference in the pressure being pressed against the Zippleback's chest. Though J-B remained motionless even as Daevra moved the tree away, he suddenly spun around to his feet in a swift and combined display of his wings, feet, and tails just as the tree was dropped. Branches were flung here and there as they were thrown off the Zippleback's body.

J-B stood there rigid for a long moment, staring at Daevra. Both heads were held somewhat back, exhibiting both caution and the readiness to strike. However, rather suddenly, the two-headed dragon stumbled and fell. One leg had been twisted within the heap of trees and was quite painful. J-B now lay on his wide chest, heads still raised but significantly lower. They now had to look up in order to see the Timperjack's face. Their wings were torn and bleeding and folded awkwardly against their back from the pain. Neither one was certainly in any mood to take off or even to keep fighting. Jerk held on to a defensive demeanor, though, ready to keep fighting Daevra if he still wanted revenge--of which the Zippleback was sure he did.

[wolfheart]

Wolf had no idea that she had told Milk she knew and was friends with an outlaw, but Nai could tell from their faces they had no idea what she was talking about. He breathed a sigh of relief. Their secret was safe... for now.

Wolf weakly sat up, staring at her poor dragon. She pointed to him and slowly said, "Take... care of... him... first..." each word seemed dragged from her, as if her mouth was being controlled by another force. She blearily picked up some leaves and started to plaster them on his wound.

Nai opened his eyes. He faintly heard J-B get up. Was the Zippleback going to fight? He sniffed the air. He could smell the fresh forest leaves on the floor, the sweet mice in their homes, but over that, he could faintly detect a trace of a sharp scent he knew far too well. Blood.

He got to his feet with a cry of terror before leaping at Aya, his foot smashing down next to her. He picked Wolf up by her fleece, dropping her on his back and taking off. His feet both closed their talons, hoping to catch Milk and Aya and fly them to safety. His wings flapped uselessly as blood trailed between the leaves, spattering down on the ground below. He rapidly lost height, Wolf sliding off of him helplessly. His eyes stung. He had failed her. He had promised to take care of her, watch out for her, be loyal to her. And yet he had attacked other dragons and nearly killed two humans. He was a useless Nightmare, far too wild for a young viking.

He had heard Wolf use a human phrase over the weeks. He thought it out in his head. It sounded foreign and feeble, but it was all he had left.
"I-I'm sorry," He whispered, speaking not perfect Norse, but Wolf could tell what he meant. She let go and stroked his silver neck. Nai grabbed her arm, placing her on his chest, and wrapped his beautiful silver and scarlet wings around her, trying to break her fall. He crashed into the ground with such force there was a tiny earthquake around him, but when the dust cleared there was a small hill of dragon, his chest rising and falling in perfect rhythm.

[aya]

«« tell me i'm frozen but what can i do? »»
«« can't tell the reasons i did it for you »»

a y a m a y r  &  d a e v r a

  Hearing Wolflegs’ concern over her dragon, Ayamayr slightly shook her head side to side. She admired the girl’s bravery, but she knew the endurance a dragon—almost too well. A wound on the wing may have hindered Nayrol by momentary or long-term down-time, but it takes much, much more to completely immobilize or kill a dragon. She knew by experience with Daevra and all his whiney fits when injured that Nayrol—however different in personality the two silver beasts may be—is better off than Wolflegs, since being a dragon deemed one as stubborn as an ass and tough and sturdy as the Earth herself. She watched idle as Wolflegs tried to aid Nayrol in however her impaired condition could allow her. “No, your dragon will be fine,” she began, her brows furrowed in faint worry. “You need help, now.”
  Suddenly she jumped back from the laying girl, startled by the Nightmare’s abrupt lunge toward her. An involuntary yelp escaped her lips, and a faint pink brushed her cheeks. She landed roughly on her rear and her arms reached behind her, propping her up. She winced slightly as she adjusted her position for a more comfortable seat. What the…? she mused, bewildered. She observed, inwardly horrified, as Wolflegs was thrown on the dragon’s back. No doubt the rough movement only further damaged her legs, but Ayamayr couldn’t see the girl once positioned on the Nightmare’s rigid spine. Immediately Ayamayr realized the dragon was going to take off. Wide-eyed from shock, she exclaimed, “Don’t! It’ll only—” She cut off her sentence and raised an arm in front of her, digging her face in the crook of her elbow to shield her from any debris or strewn dirt. She felt something smooth and pointed—Bone? A claw?

[/i]—graze her leg and quickly withdrew her limb, closer to her person.

  At signs that the Zippleback could free himself, Daevra sat back, calmly, as to cause the least amount of ground disturbance. His neck smoothly wound down to Jerk and Bully’s level of vision. He cocked his head to the side, his slitted sapphire eyes calmly narrowing on the opposite dragon heads. Abruptly, his tail started to coyly swish behind him, a natural habit he picked up after playing with other wild dragons in his younger years. Then it stopped. The sight of the green dragon’s twisted leg ended any thought of interacting physically with him anymore. Sure he fought him only—What? A few moments ago?—recently, and the Timperjack himself was indirectly the cause of the injury(not to mention who knows what will happen to his hind legs. Infection?), but he couldn’t bring himself to harm the Zippleback more. Since earlier, he only recoiled for the sake of Ayamayr, who was straddling his back at the time.
  And now that Ayamayr wasn’t in the picture, fighting was meaningless. Regardless of how apt he is at it.
  Faintly, though more than loud enough for Daevra to act, was the girl’s—his rider’s, his best friend’s, or however one saw it—voice in the distance. And the shocked tone sent the Timperjack into an excited fit. His head pivoted in the direction it came from, and simultaneously his body rose to its normal stance. Remembering the other dragon in the company of the humans, he sub-consciously growled to no one in particular. He had never caught a glimpse of the Nightmare’s personality or actions of his motives—aside from downing Jerk and Bully—and immediately linked Ayamayr’s supposed frightened condition to the dragon. Suddenly Daevra roughly reared his hind legs and jumped to the sky, spreading his translucent wings wide to catch the buffet of air to keep him suspended until he located Ayamayr.
  He spotted her small form, collapsed backwards, and he instantaneously bat his wings to surge him forward. He saw the Nightmare take off, noticing the unconscious girl from before situated on his back. Less than one hundred feet from the ground and a good distance from the humans, Daevra ceased the beat of his wings. His mass dropped at an angle, which he quickly calculated to land relatively close to their area.
  And so he did. With a strong reverberating quake, Daevra landed, his wings flared after his strong legs absorbed the shock and his serrated talons pierced into the immediate earth. The care of Ayamayr’s safety drove him non-thinking, as he arced his neck and emitted a low roar to the Nightmare’s fleeing back, which soon vanished from sight.
[/blockquote]

«« when lies turn into truth i sacrificed for you »»
«« you say that i'm frozen but what can i do? »»
[/color][/blockquote][/blockquote][/blockquote][/size]

[[ lol, nice avatar and accompanying text, Milk xD]]

[/blockquote]

[banditfly]

((Thanks. Toothless ish sexshy. <3))

Milkwort was no less than shocked to see this girl, who had fallen from several feet in the air and snapped her leg in half, sit up and then even go as far as to try and mend her dragon's wounds. Another burst of anger swept through him. As if a dragon was ever more important than a human. As if he would ever choose to help those savage beasts over his own kind. The Nightmare's sudden shriek almost made him fall over and he clumsily got to his feet when Nayrol jumped at Ayamayr. Everything was happening too fast and he couldn't dodge the hind claw that closed around his torso and lifted him into the air.

"Waaaagh!" Not again. This time, however, he managed not to lose his head and actually made an attempt to break free of the Nightmare's clutches as they rose higher. They never made it very high in the sky before a weightlessness came over the entire mass and they began to fall again. Milkwort managed to rip an arm free and cover his face as they smashed to the ground and branches flew about everywhere. As they came to a rest, the boy found himself still trapped, though relatively unharmed, and had to take a quick breather before continuing to try and break free.

J-B stared at the Timperjack with focused and narrowed eyes. Daevra's initial display confused him and he lowered his heads in something that was as close to submission as he was ever to going go. Neither head was at all happy about the outcome of this conflict. J-B had pursued to show all "slaved" dragons that wild ones were much stronger. Now here he was, wild at heart but still a slave, lying on his chest staring up at a dragon who was willingly a slave. He could not deny defeat, but believing that being owned by a human was a good thing was more than could be expected of the simpleminded Zippleback at this point.

Both heads perked up when Daevra frantically spun around and then took to the sky. J-B had heard the scream, too, and another more familiar one accompanying it moments after. Carefully the two headed dragon rose to his feet, hind legs burning and one front leg stinging. Biting back the pain, he started forward, slowly at first with a terribly clumsy gait, but quickening as he saw the Timperjack land. Eventually he was running, smashing past trees and branches straight toward the site of action.

When he finally drew nearer to them, he had a clear view through a break of trees to what was going on. Nayrol had just collapsed and Daevra was mostly preoccupied with protecting his owner. Bully saw him first, but it was Jerk that roared and pushed forward as they raced toward the Nightmare. Milkwort could hear their stomping feet and it only caused him to all the more desperately try to squeeze out of Nayrol's claws.

He wasn't fast enough, however, and the Zippleback lunged forward with an ear shattering screech. Jerk's teeth dug into the downed Nightmare's hind leg very close to Milkwort, but not touching him. Whether his intention was to free the boy or simply beat on this downed dragon was unknown to him, but Milkwort was still desperate to get away from these violent monsters and their teeth and claws as fast as possible.

[wolfheart]

Nayrol hadn't noticed Milk had been caught but when he felt the young boy trying to break free his talons slackened their grip. He sighed softly and looked around for Wolf. She was under his other foot, firmly clasping the claws.

Nai yelled in alarm as J-B nipped his legs, the teeth cutting in deep. He feebly nipped them back, growling, but he was bleeding heavily and weak. After a short burst of violet flame the silver head crashed to the floor, tongue lolling out.

Wolf heard J-B biting her dragon. She felt angry. She slowly prised herself from his claws and grabbed the axe in her belt. When the mighty dragon dropped its head, she walked out of her hiding place. Her leg stung badly, but she ignored it. "Don't you dare touch my dragon, you evil beast!" she said loudly, throwing her axe at them.

[aya]

«« tell me i'm frozen but what can i do? »»
«« can't tell the reasons i did it for you »»

a y a m a y r  &  d a e v r a

  Ayamayr jumped to her feet as she saw Milkwort and Wolflegs be spirited away by the rampant Nightmare. Quickly she spun on a heel and reached up to Daevra’s head, rubbing the Timperjack’s snout as to soothe him. She saw her silver dragon calm down at her touch, and his taut body slackened as he lowered his wings back to his sides.
  All Ayamayr did was give him a glance, and that was all the dragon needed.
  Turning her back to Daevra again, her hands felt their way across the small bumps of his face to the joint of his jaw, where a small though tough cluster of spike protruded on either side. Grasping tight to said points, she drew in a deep breath and Daevra took off. One bounding leap across the plain before coming down fast, only to jump again, though as to clear the small thicket of trees.
  Ayamayr, pushing herself off Daevra’s chest with her feet, cushioned her landing on the soft grass with a roll before, almost stumbling over her own boots in her haste, running to the tangled scene of humans and dragons. Initially, she had rejoined the group for the other girl’s sake, since her legs seemed to be the worst of evils at the moment. But now, after giving several glances at the dragons, she would probably need to help dislodge them. Or rile them up with the influence of a weapon…
  Her eyes widened in astonishment as Wolflegs pulled out her ax. Great…, At first she doubted the girl would actually use the weapon, only pulling out as a warning—but that was Ayamayr’s logic coming into play. As the girl’s arm arced behind her, she, Ayamayr, knew that this was more than a mere pre-caution. Timing her action, she extended her arm, palm facing out, to grasp the worn, wooden handle. Momentum lingered in the small “projectile” and it caused her arm to jerk back slightly from the force, but it remained firmly within her hold.
  Her listless gaze wondered to Wolflegs, then calmly rounded to the two-headed heap that was Jerk and Bully. Her ocean blue scrutiny lingered on the Zippleback. She was still peeved by the dragon’s hostility towards her earlier, but she would never, could never, wish death or further damage to the creature—for all she knows, the dragon may not have had level heads at that instant.
  Dropping her stare, Ayamayr faced the girl once more. Her mouth opened, ready to speak, but then it shut closed. The back of her neck tingled and felt stiff. As a hopeful solvent, her eyes wondered to the side and focused on a suddenly interesting tree, allowing her crane her neck and relieve her of the awkward feeling. Her gaze then roved back to her company, and she let go of a stifled breath of air she didn’t realize she had. She shifted her stance, distributing her weight from on foot to the other, and she twirled the ax in her hand a bit, reviving her wrist from its numbed state.
  Speaking up. Voicing her opinion. These were things Ayamayr always had trouble doing. But this moment, this instant, she needed to, otherwise who knows what Hell will break loose.
  “This,” she started in low voice, which soon trailed off. Biting her bottom lip, she tried again. “This is nonsense,” she began evenly, though she felt her tone wavering. Her eyes wondered to the fallen Nightmare, appalled by the sight of its unconscious state. “We shouldn’t be bickering amongst ourselves,” she continued in a composed tone, her voice invigoring herself. “You have every right to be angry,” she stated, turning back to Wolflegs, “but please don’t be rash over matters like this.
  “Your Nightmare will be fine,” she concluded in a wishfully consoling voice.
  She didn’t know what came over her, but before she knew it her thoughts darkened, remembering that night long ago of the raid. “If anything, we should be taking our frustration out on those damned Hysterians,” she heard herself say, most definitely not in the previously well-mannered attitude, and she chucked the ax at the ground, cutting into the ground a few feet away. Continuing her seemingly out-of-body state, Ayamayr felt the hard earth below crash into her iron-bottomed boots as she strode over to Daevra—who was idling, quiet, the entire time while playing with a fleeing beetle in the grass—and stroked the smooth silver scales along his jaw, her back to the others. “They deserve whatever harm comes their way,” her begrudging tone persisted, “all of them.”

«« when lies turn into truth i sacrificed for you »»
«« you say that i'm frozen but what can i do? »»

[[ Meep! Evil Aya!! Run away! O.O xDD ]]

[banditfly]

((It's always the quiet ones you gotta look out for D8))

J-B snarled as Nayrol tried to bite them and then let out a loud shriek when a short but searing hot burst of fire enshrouded their body. They stumbled back blindly, causing Milkwort to have to flee from their stomping feet. When the fire died out, the Zippleback's two heads were low and still. Exhausted and in pain, they could barely find any remaining energy to keep standing. They may not even have realize Wolflegs was coming at them hadn't she shouted. Jerk clacked static electricity between his teeth, which were beginning to die down after doing it so many times today, ready to defend himself as best he could.

Milkwort had fallen back on his bum after dodging the thrashing J-B just a moment ago and was now staring in bewilderment as Wolf tried to attack his dragon. What is this girl made of?! Was all he could think of. She had fallen from several feet in the air and snapped her leg like twig. Yet here was walking on it like it was a sprained ankle. Whether she was extremely tolerant of pain or she just delirious was beyond him, but he could hardly stand to watch it. It took him until Ayamayr caught the girl's axe before he realized it was his dragon she was trying to hurt--or even kill.

J-B was growling, but did not move even as Ayamayr stood rather closely to their heads. Milkwort stood up, not exactly sure what to do. He watched uncertainly as Ayamayr seemed to be struggling with something inside her mind before finally speaking. J-B was also staring at her, listening as she spoke words that may have prevented this entire event from happening had they come earlier. Then the atmosphere changed so suddenly Milkwort had to resist a chill up his spine.

A suddenly unfamiliarity came over Ayamayr in that instant as she began speaking of the Hysterians, a tribe the boy didn't much enjoy thinking about but had no personal experience with. He could only stare and wonder what kind of horrible memories could evoke a voice as hateful as the one she was using now. She was not the same classmate who he had taken training sessions with these past few years who, though he talked to her little, seemed to express a kind of patience and affection toward her dragon that wasn't the like all the other viking-to-be girls. This girl was hateful, and angry, and bent on something terrible.

J-B suddenly got up, breaking the silence that followed after Ayamayr stopped talking. Without a single growl or moan, the Zippleback turned away, his gait awkward but steady, and stomped away toward the village. Milkwort barely watched him ago, his eyes still on Ayamayr's back. He didn't want to say he was scared, but the tension had definitely unnerved him quite a bit.

"A-Aya..." He had to swallow and continued in a steadier voice. "Ayamayr... I think we should go now," he said timidly, casting a glance at the horizon where the sun was beginning to redden. There was so much more that could be said, but nightfall wasn't going to delay itself for them. He looked behind him again, where J-B was now out of sight within the forest. The Nightmare was definitely down for the count and not about to get up again any time soon. The only one left was Daevra...

"Can Daevra fly?" He felt bad asking, knowing Ayamayr probably didn't want her injured dragon to exert itself any more and certainly not wanting her to channel that hatred she had just shown toward him. However, trekking through the deep forest was starting to became an impossible option as time passed and the skies grew darker.

[wolfheart]

Wolf was slightly annoyed when Aya caught her axe. She would never hurt any dragon, even if she had the chance. She glanced at Nai, who was still dead to the world. Her eyes strayed to his bleeding wing. Hadn't that been her fault, when she had thrown Haki's knife? Nai had been ok then. Now he was lying on the ground, bleeding to a possible death.

Suddenly, her mind was made up. She carefully climbed down from Nai, wincing, and walked calmly over to Aya. The words from her mouth barely made it through to Wolf's brain, but her blood ran cold at the sudden change of character in her. Was this all her fault? She dug her axe out of the ground. Nai needed help.

Dusting down her faithful axe, she took a moment to look at it. On one side she had drawn herself, on the other Nayrol. It was her most prized possession. She raised it above her head, aiming directly at Milk. Then she threw.
The axe soared through the air, spinning wildly, before digging deep into a tree about 3 feet away from Milk. She smiled. Finally she had some control over her terrible throwing skills.

She started to climb her axe, before standing on the handle. She wobbled, and so did the axe, but both stayed in the tree. Reaching up, she grabbed about a dozen leaves and snapped off some twigs. She saw some cobwebs between the branches and took them as well.

As she jumped down, pain ran up her leg. She winced,but made no comment as she tugged her axe out of the tree, placing it in her belt. She wrapped Nayrol's wound in leaves and the cobwebs, before sitting down and placing the twigs around her injured leg, tying them with string. It looked like her leg had been boxed up, but she could stand.

Nai, although unable to move, heard Aya's comment to Daevra. A chill ran up his spine. The moment Wolf had plastered his wing, he slowly stood up, growling audibly. He didn't want to hurt any more people, but the human sounded.... different.

Wolf jumped as Nai growled, but felt more joy than fear. She limped over to him and threw her arms around his neck. After a moment of silence, she turned back to where the others had gone. She and Nai limped over to them. "Nai can walk, but he can't run," she reported, not noticing Aya's dark look. But Nayrol did. Thinking over the noises she had 'said', he whispered them to Wolf. His Norse was terrible, sounding like a bear tying to speak it, but he got the message through. Wolf listened, then patted his nose. "Okay, little parrot. Noted. I'll be careful." she mumbled in Dragonese, so Aya wouldn't hear.

((Yay! My first long post! ))

[aya]

«« tell me i'm frozen but what can i do? »»
«« can't tell the reasons i did it for you »»

a y a m a y r  &  d a e v r a

  He was silent the entire time. Merely posing a bystander as he listened to the conversing of the humans. That was what he chose to do. Watch. Because he hadn’t seen Ayamayr in such a state. Though, in a way, he felt he has.
  The thought wracked Daevra’s mind, wondering why such an unfamiliar side of his rider didn’t seem so entirely. Recent ventures with her played in his head, looking for any and all signs of the troubled girl that stood before him now. Troubled…,

he churned over his thoughts again. Ayamayr had probably always been “troubled,” but he never thought twice of it. She was quiet, reserved, and moderately caring—though that was his first and most prominent impression of “humans.” After encountering several more of the species, he was confused. They were so… different. Some were bulging with muscle and others struggled to even lift a weapon! Are they any different from us?

[/color] the controversial thought had ran across his mind all those years ago, referring to his brethren. But Ayamayr stood from the rest—or maybe it was merely his young mind having been daunted by the boisterous and plump villagers. And she could lift her weapon in her childhood—A ‘bardiche,’ she called it?[/color]—even though it towered a few feet over her!
  That bardiche… I recall Aya saying it was her…,[/color] he continued to reflect, absently veering from his initial search of Ayamayr’s “dark side,” but he stuttered in his own thoughts, trying to remember the word his friend had said, Dragoness… so, humaness? No… ah! ‘Mother’s’![/color]
  Then it struck him. Though he knew the thought occurred before—most likely many a time—but Daevra had never seen her mother. Nor had Ayamayr ever told him of her, not a word at all. Though, now, he most definitely remembers asking—or at least playing a form of charades since he couldn’t or didn’t know how to produce the human tongue(oh, how fun that was!)—about the absence of her dam.
  And then he remembered why he stopped “asking.”
  Ayamayr proffered him a distant, unwelcoming glance before leaving him behind for several hours.
  He didn’t want to bear in mind the past anymore, and quickly shook his head to relieve him of the long thought chain. But that one fleeting stare from her deep blue orbs was the last time he wished to see it. Or at least be the cause of it.
  “Can Daevra fly?”
  At this Daevra perked up, furling his wings about him—which was almost a bad idea, since a dull ache surged through his limbs, but to fly? It was worth bearing. With a slight, encouraging snout-rub against Ayamayr’s hand—much alike a cat, serving for attention—he happily trotted around her, making his way toward Milkwort. But as he ambled by Ayamayr, he suddenly got a faint whiff of salt, though dismissed the peculiar happening. Though as he walked on, he heard Wolflegs and Nayrol’s hushed conversation, his keen ears picking up each crude Norse utter and soft Dragonese grunt. Not without a nonchalant huff at them, he strode by, keeping a locked, suspicious sapphire eye on the two. Within a few feet he plopped! down in front of the teen, smiling in the strange way a dragon did.
  It was then he noticed the missing sight of the Zippleback, though could hear familiar tromping in the near woods and subconsciously linked one with the other. He hoped Jerk and Bully would at least consider toning down over the human matter, but he didn’t know if the two heads could finally come together and make a decision.

  Her blood seemed to run cold, and she knew the others had a cautious eye on her. What she had said, now that she recalled, may have been unnecessary though she couldn’t have helped it. Fighting was something she would only resort to if it were against the Hysterians, the home of murderers. Cold-hearted murderers. And each one bore the same ambition: destroy and/or ruin the lives of the peaceful Hooligans. The very thought of the other village caused her to clinch her fists, turning her knuckles white.
  Mother… I will remove them for you. Each and every last one of them,[/color] she vowed, which she recited each time the mention of Hysterians arose. A mental image of her mother came to mind, that last time she saw her mother smiling at her, roughly ten years ago. The back of her eyes burned, which forced an involuntary hand to her face and she rubbed her eyelids. She knew the white of her eyes were reddening, at least pinkish already.
  At Milkwort’s concerned, though withdrawn, mention of her name, it further confirmed her thoughts. She didn’t mind others knowing of her past or occurrences amidst her family, but she felt even more of an outsider after hearing her name uttered so forcefully and monitored.
  With a deep breath she steadied her tone, entirely missing the cold, dark voice of a mere moment agp=o. “Y-Yea, it’s getting late, isn’t it?” she responded casually without as much as a glance to the horizon. Her conclusion simply came from her desire to leave and recuperate after the day. It may have seemed a disaster, but Ayamayr had the sneaking feeling that possibly the days following would at least hold something more for her with the others she acquainted with—though whether they were positive or negative, she had no idea.
  With the calming nuzzle against her palm from Daevra, Ayamayr lifted her head to weakly smile at him. She let the length of his body pass by her before she turned, hopeful she dimmed the possible resulting tears from the recollection of her mother. Facing the other Vikings-in-Training, she lightened her expression, as to rid them of the inhibited tone of voice and to anxiously resume a more airy mood. She followed Daevra and stood beside him, affronting Milkwort. “Dae’s alright,” she contently informed, “so I think he can take another on his back.” Though after she uttered this, she quirked an eyebrow, curious as to whether Milkwort was actually up to mounting another dragon’s back after the flying fiasco she witnessed earlier. Shifting to face Daevra, she reached up and hoisted herself on his back. Firmly settled, she bent closer to the Timperjack’s neck, and extended a free hand to Milkwort. Since the guy was probably only accustomed to being on the Zippleback, she figured she’d have to acquaint him with the in-line spikes that ran the length of Daevra’s neck to his tail—not to mention her dragon’s razor-like wings which aren’t too fun to meet with unless expecting them.
  Ayamayr’s head pivoted to Wolflegs and Nayrol. “Will you two be alright for now?” she asked almost hesitantly, considering all the injuries the two obtained recently. “We’ll send help to you...”
[/blockquote]

«« when lies turn into truth i sacrificed for you »»
«« you say that i'm frozen but what can i do? »»
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