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Post by Feline Protector on May 20, 2004 15:37:39 GMT -5
The black to a step towards Felle, and fell halfway there. --Fellemine! Your Tuyith is hurting! Where are you?!--
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Harpertrue
Good N' Active
S'mer of White Kaith/M'raz of Bronze Inuth/T'rin of BlindBrown Naercyth/Felle/R'lot of Green Jinyoth
Posts: 210
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Post by Harpertrue on May 21, 2004 18:48:22 GMT -5
Tuyith? The name split through his mind. His absence. And the Harper returned from a brief visit to his subconcious. His head snapped up, eyes searching about for the caller. Tuyith! His gaze found the fallen black, and he stumbled toward it, the sand shifting under him.
He fell just as he reached the dragonet, reaching out for it instead of to break his fall. Tuyith! His fingertips brushed the nose of the fallen hatchling. Where are you hurting, my Tuyith? He pushed himself up so he could see the black, spitting out the silver sand of the hatching grounds.
Tuyith's nose probed about the Harper's figure, nudging the impressed candidate. Felle, brushing grains of sand from his hair and eyelashes, stroked the black's eye ridges. The Hatchling pressed its head to his chest.
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