It's been a while, hasn't it?

Edit - turns out I can't read a calendar! Updated with the correct release date.

Smolder exhaled. Whether the smoke that followed came from biology or the dragon's refusal to contain the cigarette's erosion Ocellus couldn't tell. It blossomed, though, a smudge of grey against the bruised sky, and that was enough. But in that moment Ocellus was certain that whatever Smolder did would have been enough.

"Been waiting a while, now." The broad scratch of Smolder's voice seemed to send the smoke into a spiralling oblivion. "Feels like it's been forever."

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S'up. Been a while, hasn't it? But yeah, I've been writing some horsegriffonwords here and there. It's very rough, and I'm not sure if it'll go anywhere or see the light of day, but here's a small part of it that I liked and thought I'd share.

Gilda pressed the tea leaves into place, her claws creating shitty jigsaws of them as she fought against the afternoon breeze and her own savage heartbeat.

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Not a story as such (or, at least, not anything approaching a complete story), but the foundation of something that could conceivably become a story with some time and effort.

And although things may change, at the moment I feel minded to at least try and find that time and effort. Which, considering I've not had either for horsewords (outside of occasional 150 Flashfic entries) for—checks notes—almost two years, is a weather change of sorts.

It's G5 too... so yeah.

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As is probably apparent by my lateness to the proceedings, I haven't really been motivated to catch it thus far, but was babysitting and my charge wanted to watch it.

What did you think about it? I thought it was breezy enough - breakneck pace and shallow characterisation kinda worked against it at times, but on the whole it was an okay watch. And I guess shallow characterisation works well for a fanfic writer.

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Smolder lay sprawled across the rug, limbs and claws entwined in dense yak hair. Her scales had become uneven shimmering planes, given their fleeting new life by the light of the fireplace. There, prancing tongues lived and died erratically, the only concession to the passing of time.

"Hey, you see the moon from there?"

The flames crackled for a few moments before Yona stirred. Smolder could almost sense the yak's furrowed brow.

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Man it's been a while since I have done anything of note on here. Not that a generic Merry Christmas blog post counts as something of note, but you gotta take what you can get I suppose.

Anyway, Christmas is a pretty romantic time of year, so have some cute fluff.

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So... uh, there are quite a few more of you here than when I crashed last night.

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Her hoard is radiant; the scalding fragility of the sun and the diamond-hazed mystery of the moon, both cajoling for her reflection.

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"I sometimes wonder whether I need absolutes in my life." Ocellus fixed her everything on the horizon beyond the window, her chest a mere flutter of existence in the otherwise stillness of the room. "You know, like the—"

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