((ooc: Day: 10 Quarter: Dyo Year: 81380 Where: The banks of Magi Lake. Time: Relatively early morning- think 5am. Who: http://shadowlack.com/persona.php?id=1058Vethum Fusajtcoll</a> and anyone that wishes to join him. Note: I've recycled this post from "Early Morning Nightmares", because I wasn't really thinking about my life outside of RaL when I first posted it, and now I'd like to try to use Vethum a bit more, but I couldn't really think of a better way to introduce him than this. Sorry if this isn't allowed!)) It seemed that Vethum was having a streak of bad luck, as far as his profession was going. For days now, he had found himself sitting on the banks of the lake, with a fishing rod in his hands, shivering discontentedly, and everyday he had walked the fifty yards back to his house with but a few tokens to show for his efforts. On the seventh morn, he was even less pleased than usual, sitting with a scowl upon his crinkled face and muttering something under his breath, which was rising in heavy clouds of steam before his eyes, or at least it would be, but the sun was yet to grace Magi Lake with it's presence. His arthritic hands shook, partly because of the cold and partly due to the strain of trying to keep a heavy fishing rod still for hours on end. The only sources of light were the lantern stood by Vethum's stool, and the flame from his tail, which swished round like a firefly in the dark. Squinting through his glasses, the elderly 'Dragon refused to admit that he couldn't actually see his line, or the water in front of him. He shivered, still muttering under his breath, and carefully wrapped his scarf tighter around his neck, sweeping his fringe from out of his vision and grabbing hold of the long pole in case he might drop it. Of course, his constant mumbling probably wasn't improving matters with the fish, as the noise breaking the early morning silence would more than probably drive the creatures away, if the cold weather had not already, but Vethum was stubborn man, and would not admit defeat easily. As he watched a shape beneath the water's surface dart away from his rod, the elderly 'Dragon muttered a curse under his breath and, balancing the rod in one hand, balled his left hand into a first and raised it, shaking it at the sky. <span style='color:gray'>"Yer call this Dyo?"</span> he called angrily, though to whom, it could not be said. <span style='color:gray'>"I've had better luck in the heart of Mia than I'm having now!"</span>
((I apologize if this is a too-old thread or something...)) High above the giant steely mirror that was Magi lake, a slightly lighter shape became visible against the dark sky. Like a very large bird, or some similar thing, great whitish wings carried the form in a wide circle over the area, gradually closer to the shore and unnoticed fisherman. Though the sun was still dozing behind the treeline it could then be seen that it was a pendragon flying out over the chill water, carried swiftly by perfectly well-feathered wings. Skilled and balanced in flight, even with the cold-dead air, the 'dragon soared easily in descending arcs, gliding down toward the surface of the lake. His flight mimicked that of the acrobatic swallows that congregated over the water during late Dyo and early Tria, zipping effortlessly around until their bellies deftly brushed the surface while chasing after insects. This 'dragon wasn't chasing insects of course, but he was indeed hunting after food. During one loop, drawing a little nearer to the shore, the 'dragon dipped down in a thought-quick motion to plunge claws into the water. It happened in a blink of an eye, barely rippling the perfection of the lake...but certainly startling the wriggling fish now trapped in his talons. It had to be beginner's luck. After the 'dragon's effortless catch it was time to enjoy it, and so the creature winged around and headed back toward the shore, finally bringing the earthbound fisherman into view-- thanks to a flicking tailflame. Making sure to land a polite distance away, he gave out a greeting wave of his own tail flame-- which was blue and strangely shaped. As he landed and caught his breath, he squinted through the dark toward the fisher that he knew had to be there in the shadows somewhere. If it wasn't for his own tailflame and shocks of white mane and feathers, he would have been pretty invisible as well. "Hey there...any luck?" The typical fisherman's greeting, though maybe accidentally insulting in this situation.
<span style='color:gray'>"Huh?"</span> came Vethum's raspy, mumble of a reply. He whipped his head around, perhaps a little too quickly, and winced as it made a cracking sound. He managed to hold his rod in one hand and rub his aged neck with the other, before glancing at the other 'dragon with a rather annoyed expression. <span style='color:gray'>"Do yer often creep up on people like that?"</span> he growled sourly, before reeling in his rod and then extending it again, watching it cascade into the water with a satisfying "plop" sound.
