01-01-2020, 11:13 AM
decisions to decisions are made and not bought
His attention was briefly ensnared from slowly flickering his gaze between those present to the sudden shouting that had ensued. These trees and this forest were filled with people that shouted. Not good. Shouting was what had happened before he had been burned. Shouting was what the lion had done before. He couldn't understand. It explained why when battle stances were prepared, the dragon continued to simply sit there. He didn't grasp the conflict at hand, not in the slightest. It flew over his head, it was not something that he could grasp. The blue antennae that stretched from his head curled downwards when shouts continued to ensue. He did not like shouting. By no means was Astiar bothered by loud noises. Sharp buzzes frequented his wings, meaning that the dragon certainly had a tolerance for noise. It was little and thin indentions of repetitive observations that Astiar could recognize. Shouting lions led to burning. Burning led to pain. Pain is coupled with hunger. Hunger is the greatest motivator. His head craned down a little when Kydobi's tail rested on his massive form. It eased whatever little nerves had arisen. His wings stilled again, and small clicks sounded from his mandibles.
The ground shaking, of course, did startle him. Finally Astiar stood back up, shuffling in an ever nervous manner on his talons. The use of elemental abilities was far beyond his comprehension. His antennae rose and stuck straight up in the air, and chitters parted his maw and were accompanied by the clicking of his mandibles. Then there was fire again, fire from the shouting person, fire from the lava, pain. It was pain, but there was something there to intercept it. Elemental abilities, again, were not something that Astiar was able to understand. He was shoved, and a stutter step backwards was taken. Fire was bad. Fire was pain. Pain was deadly. The cicada's head craned to briefly check behind him, and his feet began shuffling backwards. His wings were spreading, and he was just about to take off. More shouting sounded. He couldn't understand what was being said at all, but the loud noise warranted his attention. Astiar's head swiveled, ears raising back up a little. Then, then someone came and latched onto his segmented chest. Soft yellow flesh rested between the segments of his dark, harder outer scales. Teeth sinking in confused him until pain struck him. Pain. It was pain, and he did not really know how to deal with pain. The dragon's tail swung behind him sharply, and his balance momentarily teetered. He did not what to do about suddenly being attacked.
When he had been struck by lava and teeth before his only response had been to back away. Cicadas did not fight. Cicadas did not have many forms of defense other than sheer numbers and camouflage. Astiar did not have either, standing out in the open with his sheer size. The dragon, however, was not just a pure cicada. He was a cicada's mind thrust into the body of a dragon. A horrible mutation that had overtaken his emergence from his nymph form into what should have been his adult, regular cicada body. Dragon mentality had never broken into his cicada instincts. It certainly didn't now. Fight or flight struck his mind, and flight it was once again. He had been shoved, he had been told by Kydobi to go home. Not safe. Two simple words. Go home. Not safe. He didn't try to shake Leroy off as he had the lion upon being attacked while feasting upon a tree. Astiar was too panicked to think of such a thing. Pain from the bite, pain from being clung to, and remembering the pain of the fire was fueling his desire to obey Kydobi's order. His wings spread, and began buzzing violently. Not as if he were preparing some sound based attack against Leroy to retaliate for being bitten. No, instead he was lifting up off the ground and fleeing off. His sudden take off was abrupt, hind legs bunching up to help him spring up into the air. Astiar's head briefly turned, watching the fire that consumed both opponents. Fire was pain. He could not help, help did not cross a basic creature's mind. One sharp shriek noted his rise into the air, and he rose as swiftly as he'd appeared and took his loud buzzing noises with him - and the Proxy, too, if he didn’t manage to disengage swiftly enough to the cicada’s sharp response to his atttacj.
The ground shaking, of course, did startle him. Finally Astiar stood back up, shuffling in an ever nervous manner on his talons. The use of elemental abilities was far beyond his comprehension. His antennae rose and stuck straight up in the air, and chitters parted his maw and were accompanied by the clicking of his mandibles. Then there was fire again, fire from the shouting person, fire from the lava, pain. It was pain, but there was something there to intercept it. Elemental abilities, again, were not something that Astiar was able to understand. He was shoved, and a stutter step backwards was taken. Fire was bad. Fire was pain. Pain was deadly. The cicada's head craned to briefly check behind him, and his feet began shuffling backwards. His wings were spreading, and he was just about to take off. More shouting sounded. He couldn't understand what was being said at all, but the loud noise warranted his attention. Astiar's head swiveled, ears raising back up a little. Then, then someone came and latched onto his segmented chest. Soft yellow flesh rested between the segments of his dark, harder outer scales. Teeth sinking in confused him until pain struck him. Pain. It was pain, and he did not really know how to deal with pain. The dragon's tail swung behind him sharply, and his balance momentarily teetered. He did not what to do about suddenly being attacked.
When he had been struck by lava and teeth before his only response had been to back away. Cicadas did not fight. Cicadas did not have many forms of defense other than sheer numbers and camouflage. Astiar did not have either, standing out in the open with his sheer size. The dragon, however, was not just a pure cicada. He was a cicada's mind thrust into the body of a dragon. A horrible mutation that had overtaken his emergence from his nymph form into what should have been his adult, regular cicada body. Dragon mentality had never broken into his cicada instincts. It certainly didn't now. Fight or flight struck his mind, and flight it was once again. He had been shoved, he had been told by Kydobi to go home. Not safe. Two simple words. Go home. Not safe. He didn't try to shake Leroy off as he had the lion upon being attacked while feasting upon a tree. Astiar was too panicked to think of such a thing. Pain from the bite, pain from being clung to, and remembering the pain of the fire was fueling his desire to obey Kydobi's order. His wings spread, and began buzzing violently. Not as if he were preparing some sound based attack against Leroy to retaliate for being bitten. No, instead he was lifting up off the ground and fleeing off. His sudden take off was abrupt, hind legs bunching up to help him spring up into the air. Astiar's head briefly turned, watching the fire that consumed both opponents. Fire was pain. He could not help, help did not cross a basic creature's mind. One sharp shriek noted his rise into the air, and he rose as swiftly as he'd appeared and took his loud buzzing noises with him - and the Proxy, too, if he didn’t manage to disengage swiftly enough to the cicada’s sharp response to his atttacj.
control yourself and take only what you need from it
TAGS 9/4/19:
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FULZANIN is a 19 year old content creator. Currently roleplaying as Beezlebub in the Pitt and Jotunhel in the Typhoon. Time spent outside of work and writing is typically done in Creatures of Sonaria. FULZANIN is also in a happy relationship, and is aegosexual/asexual herself.
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