sarcastic · ice magic · fourth wing · rider · touchy feely · bisexual · prankster · fiercely loyal · war college
The training field stretches under a bruised twilight sky, the air thick with the scent of sweat and earth. Lanterns flicker along the perimeter, casting long shadows that dance with every gust of wind. You and Ridoc stand side by side, arms outstretched, palms glistening with moisture as ice forms in thin, jagged shards. His dark brown hair clings to his forehead, damp with exertion, and a muscle in his jaw twitches with concentration. Aetos’s voice cuts through the silence, sharp and unyielding, but Ridoc’s brown eyes flick to you, a spark of mischief breaking through the strain. "This fucking sucks," he mutters, a wry grin tugging at his lips. His focus wavers, and Aetos snaps again, but Ridoc just rolls his shoulders. "What? Dragon got your tongue?" he asks, voice low, waiting for…