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Post by Flare on May 30, 2019 13:15:31 GMT -6
Didn't seem to bother Castor. If it didn't bother him, Flare would just keep an eye on him. That would be a thing to set up here in the garden. Shade. Trees could only do so much, as the sun here in the east felt like it rotated overhead faster from sun up to sun down. The big old tree that split its way between two plots, making fencing have to go around the tree vs through it, gave applicable shade when the right time of day rolled about. If only he paid more attention in the academy with certain classes. The idea niched itself into his mind, unwilling to leave. Giving a heavy sigh, the ssashirk fished out his notebook, and a chunk of burned wood. Chawcoal, they called it. Burned wood could write, but it was brittle and needed to write lightly. It left an imprint on the back of the pages. 13 15.20
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Post by Flare on May 30, 2019 13:23:16 GMT -6
Sitting down for a moment, Flare used his tail and his good leg to balance while placing his shorter leg up on the good knee, as a brace to place down his notebook. Drawing took a stable hand, and standing up he needed more of his attention of not falling over on some occasions. One of the few good things of having a long tail. Or a tail in general. He places down the book on the braced limb, brushing away any free stray pieces of pages. This book appears to be handmade. Lets see. A few moments of thought, the drake starts to draw out the image in his head about the idea of shade. Something that could be moved, and give shade whenever. Not the size of a tree, he could not afford that sort of supplies. It had to be able to bend, and shade from the sun. The hot season would approach soon; a hot season he wasn't sure if it would be bad or not. Especially for Castor and the rest. 14 16.20
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Post by Flare on May 30, 2019 13:33:55 GMT -6
Flare's first sketch looked more like a bendable umbrella tree. It was... not what he had in mind. He didn't rub it out though, the lines were still pretty light, and chawcoal smeared very easily. Just by his few minutes of sketching gave him blackened fingers on both hands. The next image resembled a market stall with wagon wheels. A canvas roof extending over the stilts holding it up, and movable on wheels. The wheels were too big and it didn't appear to be able to bend. Also not what he had in mind. The ssa's failed attempts of replicating his mind's eye on paper with chawcoal frustrated him. His tail swiped the dirt around him, displacing a handful of withering flower petals from picked plants. The longer leg tapped repetitively, a soft hiss of aggro. The pollen cats didn't know what to make of the situation; scattering about. Growling meant bad things. Castor opened one gold eye from his sunbath, glancing at the larger dragonling. 15 17.20
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Post by Flare on May 30, 2019 13:40:34 GMT -6
The third attempt to make shade in the garden that could move and bend resembled a cage of wood. The slats provided only partial shade, and could not bend or move. Like stone, wood had a sturdiness to it. A sturdiness that wasn't easily bendable; only young branches and plants bent easier. Young plants, or just plants and general would bend to reach the sunlight. He recalled an air plant; a rootless specimen with long pointy leaves that looked like a small prickly fern. It resembled swords meeting at one point without a hilt or a guard. The plant would bend its leaves to meet the sunlight if it came at one point. It needed only a submersion of water once a week, sometimes twice if the plant had blossoms and was large enough, to stay alive. Not the easiest plant to keep, and could stay in the shade. A leaf wing twitched, shuffled, and folded inwards. Castor's wings could photosynthesize without being wide open. It tugged on muscle he didn't use often. 16 18.20
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Post by Flare on May 30, 2019 13:45:18 GMT -6
'I'm going about this the wrong way.' the drake mutters to himself, glowering at his failed images. 'The plants make the garden. Have what they need; water, soil, shelter from too much sun. Some fertilizer.' and no giant feet or claws digging them up. He should decide on what kind of plants to keep first. From his experiences of the short time in the city, the spring season appeared very mild, only slightly warm. There was snow in the winter, and heat in the summer and fall. Nothing like the heat and cold of the sea of sands, of the red wall. If flowers and such could grow here, he could grow something besides succulent and heat or drought tolerant plants. Those he knew more about then pollen cats, a plant dragon and an evergreen cat. Didn't even consider himself much of a 'cat lover'. They were certainly... unique. The dragonling's mutterings and shuffles kept disturbing Castor. He just wanted to rest quietly, thank you very much. 17 19.20
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Post by Jack on May 30, 2019 13:46:25 GMT -6
A curious potatohead circled a fossil. How odd!
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Post by Flare on May 30, 2019 13:53:09 GMT -6
A growl, a grumble, the dragonoak shuffled upwards into a standing position. His limbs were not such length as a sarane, or any other dragonlike creature. His arms were relatively small. Carefully, the creature tried to stretch, arching its back and spreading oak leaf wings. One pair, two pairs... three pairs, two being very small, more decorative, stretched out. A few grumbles as Castor shifted back into standing. Yeah, not the right length to try the big long cat stretch. The dragonoak, stretched out and disturbed from his rest shuffled off past Flare, catching his shin with his tail purposefully. The ssashirk gave a startle, dropping the book. The dragonoak only seemed to smirk as it shuffled past, and took up beneath the oak tree. Leaning out over the roots felt a bit more comforting. Flare's gray eyes stared at the creature as it made itself more comfortable. Castor... what a card. 18 20.20 Lv 31 Flare
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Post by Flare on May 30, 2019 14:06:22 GMT -6
Before he could get comfortable, something skittered out from the root structure of the tree. Castor startles, only briefly. Irritation replaces the startlement, swiping the creature that so rudely interrupted him out into the open. A... potato? With an eyeball? What sort of creature was this? The noise attracted Flare's attention, first to the uneased oak dragon, then to the potato on legs. It rolled back onto its spindly root legs, blinking not one, but seven, maybe more, eyes. Ok, he'd heard the myth of potatoes having eyes, and thats where they sprouted new potato plants, but this took that idea bit far, didn't it? The creature ran straight at his leg, and bumped off of it. He already had to unbind his leg and lean down to retrieve his book, so Flare grabbed the potato as well around the middle. It squirmed, and held onto a flat object? It was small, no bigger then itself. With an image of a fish in stone? 19 1.20
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Post by Flare on May 30, 2019 14:09:27 GMT -6
Well what did you know. Perhaps it was worth something, as Flare had no use or interest in fish in stones. He would ask around with those who knew a bit of his language of the desert. His common still wasn't that good. The potato creature had no fangs, no mouth it seemed at all. Similar to the pollen cats. He put the creature into his harvests box. The potato seemed to be more content once it wasn't being swiped at by unhappy dragonoaks. Whom seemed to not care once the creature was gone. Did he have an elephant to a mouse thing with small creatures, but not with pachee or Mfalme? Perhaps before it got hot, Flare would be doing some more work, perhaps some obedience work, with this creature. Figure out what he actually liked to eat, besides worms. Not every creature liked to eat worms, after all. For now, he closed the box, and went back to figuring out how to make shade that moved with the sun. 20 2.20
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Post by Jack on May 30, 2019 14:17:26 GMT -6
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Post by Flare on Jun 2, 2019 23:10:38 GMT -6
If the two fish fossils he'd discovered thanks to the wandering potato on spindle feet, Flare could believe this used to be an old riverbed in ancient times. If he found more then two, this might solidify his theory. In the last few days, he'd worked on setting up his own plot of land. It was small, barely enough for him and maybe a creature or two. He might try to catch that wily wild baakir that kept occasionally intruding on the property. Tall enough in the leg to just step over the little wooden fences and stone walls that most gardeners had put up to keep pests out. If the pests weren't the size of leaf eating creatures like a baakir. It avoided Castor like the plague though. Eating off the sleeping dragon earned it nearly being lunch. It took several attempts, and a number of resulting bruises to both the pride and the extremities to get a working tent set up. It kept the sun off Flare, and protected his harvests box from being sunbaked. This would be a hot summer season. Summer 1, post 21 9.20
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Post by Flare on Jul 11, 2019 4:44:55 GMT -6
So hot in fact, that the ssa's memory of short term things became slightly sparce on the hottest weeks of the year. For all he could seem to do was keep himself moderately hydrated and out of the sun. There was enough shade in the gardens that the pachee and Castor and the mjusi had their own personal giant sunshades. Granted, that lazy sonofanoak loved the sun, and would lay around in it until he had to get out of the sun to avoid drying out completely. Didn't make him grow any bigger either. Not that Flare really needed something bigger them himself wandering the small plot. It was bad enough that he had to keep Sidewinder at the pit; unable to truly care for him himself. If the drake wasn't able to feed himself hardly, how was he keeping anything. Answer? Lots and lots of sleeping. Lots of sleeping. No joke. 22 15.20
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Post by Flare on Aug 22, 2019 6:56:27 GMT -6
The subsequent sleep patterning passed by the dragonoak's prime time to produce acorns, sadly enough. Granted, it wasn't the end of the world. Early summer, no matter how long the winters would seem, would roll around next year to come again. Perhaps Castor would be a fine specimen of being 'well trained', he mused, stretched out against the old tree that took a corner of his fenced off yard. A rough cough of laughter nearly burst inside of the drake as he watched the canopy of leaves above his head. About the only real place to be comfortable and relaxed so far in this hot weather was right beneath this oak. Early in the summer, Flare discovered the space between the roots while resting from a particularly difficult day of clearing brambles and such. To anyone else who had seen the state of the garden patch previously, it looked very cleaned up. Not for Flare. 23 8.20
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Post by Flare on Aug 22, 2019 7:05:39 GMT -6
In between his sleeping, the drake had done a number of activities he wouldn't have tried otherwise. Going to the contest hall. Receiving an orbaru from another stranger, and chasing it down. Only to find he'd discovered the strays some other was looking for, and completed a 'quest' of sorts. He'd slept through a massive fight against a monster, apparently. Good thing, the ssa reasoned to himself, none of his creatures were technically ready to fight; and Sidewinder was a landmine to go off at a moment's notice. Eventually he'd try again to keep himself from getting nearly killed by the drake sarane, but not now. Summertime took his energy; sapped it even. Keeping his wings slightly spread out helped a bit to dispurse the heat, to keep his mannah consumption high. If he had anything to say about it, Flare had no intention of being taken ill a second time for heat sickness. See, he did learn. 24 9.20
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Post by Flare on Aug 22, 2019 7:11:40 GMT -6
Now that the summer days started to slowly cool. Truly slowly cooling, August, or 'mid summer' brought the hot and the dry air in. Not humid, he had not experienced humid. The sticky hot. No. Tumai, the desert, even here in the central of Pethia had the dry hot. The airid. Flare sighed, exhaling out of nostrils to ruffle his dusty bangs. It might be worth it to dig a pool for water here. One that was deep enough that he himself could go for a dip when the heat got too much. A twisting pond of sorts. What even went into making a pond? Where would the mannah come from to perform such a task? Awkwardly reaching over himself, the drake pulled out his little notebook. It contained a few sketches of ideas he wanted to put here in his garden. Some wouldn't be that easy to do, not by himself. 25 10.20
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