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And the second of the requested ficlets are done. First request from ![[insanejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/ij-userinfo.gif)
forgottenlover, at 426 words is:
Wyvernset Cid and Cloud
All his life, Cid had wanted to fly.
When he was a kid, he had watched birds, watched bats, watched bugs, watched wyverns. He watched anything that could fly, and, in the back of his mind, he wished he could do the same. Spread wings and take to the air.
When he got a little older, he packed up and found himself a place right in the heart of the wyvern riders and their bonded. He hoped, year after year, that this year would be the one that he got picked, that he would find himself being spoke to by one of the new hatchlings, or one of the older ones who had never selected.
As he got even older, he still hoped, but he started to accept that, maybe, it wasn’t in his cards. Didn’t stop the dreams of flying, of feeling the wind whipping past him as they soared through the sky.
At the age of thirty, he decided he was too old. Nobody got picked when they were that old, and he accepted it, feeling old bitterness fresh again.
He left, unable to sit there as those who got his dream took to the skies.
Two years passed after that, as he roamed and worked, settling into the life of a tinker. He fixed machines and sharpened blades. He became a jack of all trades, a person who could be counted on to have enough oddball skill to get the job done.
He didn’t expect to wake up one morning and find a wyvern curled up around his fire.
It was a beautiful creature, all sleek gold feather and scales, some just tipped with blue. The same blue as its eyes.
He looked around for its rider, sure that there must be one somewhere around. Probably hurt, though the wyvern didn’t seem to act like it.
You should be packing up. It’s a long flight back to the nesting areas.
He stared at it. “What the hell?”
He could have swore that the creature, male by the voice, smiled at him as it-he, tilted his great head and rumbled softly at him.
My name is Cloud. And I decided that you are my rider. You might want to hurry, or I’ll end up flying you through that rainburst anyway. He tilted his head the other way. Might do it anyway. Get the smell of that nasty smoke off of you.
Okay, maybe dreams did come true. But why the hell did he get the sarcastic one?
forgottenlover, at 426 words is:Wyvernset Cid and Cloud
All his life, Cid had wanted to fly.
When he was a kid, he had watched birds, watched bats, watched bugs, watched wyverns. He watched anything that could fly, and, in the back of his mind, he wished he could do the same. Spread wings and take to the air.
When he got a little older, he packed up and found himself a place right in the heart of the wyvern riders and their bonded. He hoped, year after year, that this year would be the one that he got picked, that he would find himself being spoke to by one of the new hatchlings, or one of the older ones who had never selected.
As he got even older, he still hoped, but he started to accept that, maybe, it wasn’t in his cards. Didn’t stop the dreams of flying, of feeling the wind whipping past him as they soared through the sky.
At the age of thirty, he decided he was too old. Nobody got picked when they were that old, and he accepted it, feeling old bitterness fresh again.
He left, unable to sit there as those who got his dream took to the skies.
Two years passed after that, as he roamed and worked, settling into the life of a tinker. He fixed machines and sharpened blades. He became a jack of all trades, a person who could be counted on to have enough oddball skill to get the job done.
He didn’t expect to wake up one morning and find a wyvern curled up around his fire.
It was a beautiful creature, all sleek gold feather and scales, some just tipped with blue. The same blue as its eyes.
He looked around for its rider, sure that there must be one somewhere around. Probably hurt, though the wyvern didn’t seem to act like it.
You should be packing up. It’s a long flight back to the nesting areas.
He stared at it. “What the hell?”
He could have swore that the creature, male by the voice, smiled at him as it-he, tilted his great head and rumbled softly at him.
My name is Cloud. And I decided that you are my rider. You might want to hurry, or I’ll end up flying you through that rainburst anyway. He tilted his head the other way. Might do it anyway. Get the smell of that nasty smoke off of you.
Okay, maybe dreams did come true. But why the hell did he get the sarcastic one?