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TOPIC | Ozie's Lore Shop! [FULL!~]
Made by @/Ozie for @Peyp for the dragon Giselle.
---
“I have a sister?”
The squeal that came from the older dragoness's mouth was rather high pitched, her enlightened green eyes roving over the Tundras before her. Giselle stood, mouth parted, before the Spiral female and next to her father. Just a few moments ago, she had remarked on her similar the girls looked, and now it just proves it; she's her sister. The Spiral had the same jagged markings on her flank and neck, riding up and down along the blackened arms to the tips of their paws. She had the Arcanist’s runes carved into her skin, but not painfully. Like Giselle, she'd been born with them. The patterned engravings shone in the early sun of the morning, catching the light and throwing it in all different directions. Her eyes were the exact sane shade as Giselle's own, casting a slightly fluorescent glow around them as they locked gazes and stared at each other in disbelief. Sisters.
“You two look like you're entranced by each other,” their father remarked, smirking. He looked more like Giselle than the Spiral – Amira, she learnt – with his enlarged dark pink wings and pale, shimmering runes whilst Amira's were much darker than both of theirs combined. He had different eyes, however. His eyes were not the pale green of the Sphene gemstone, but the vivid and vibrant red of the Rubies. The Plague flight.
“She looks a lot like you, dad!” Amira called out, smiling happily. She didn't look the least bit bothered. “Who was your mother, Giselle?”
Giselle shrugged. “Does it matter? She left.”
The Tundra watched as Amira's ears flattened and her eyes go from full moons to slits. Whether it was sadness or anger, Giselle couldn't tell. It could even be embarrassment.
“She left you?” their father – Benith – asked politely, bowing his head slightly in a small show of respect for his daughter's privacy. If she didn't want to talk, he would understand.
“Yeah. She decided to go and pursue something else instead. She forgot all about me.”
Benith just sighed. It was a woeful noise, full of pity and sorrow. His eyes went from pure, angry red to a darkened shade of maroon, as if Giselle was looking at them through a shaded lens. His fur, she noticed, had greyed around the edges of his furry locks that ended at his swooping face. The signature of the Tundras in this family, he'd once muttered. His mouth looked tight. Cracked, even. And he had dark rings under his eyes from sleep deprivation. Looking farther down, Giselle saw that the skin on his wings was stretched, deepening the markings already stained there.
Instead of looking straight at her father again, she took it upon herself to fully look around the vast field she had been walking through. In the centre was a lake larger and an Imperial, rippling against the effects of the coursing wind that ran through the Plague valley. Dark shades of grass was littered around in patches of the once-beautiful field, the rest showing dried, dead dirt that had been upturned long before, the sharp arrowhead-like seeds sticking up. Never being able to grow. How the dirt was cracked and torn at when such beautiful water ran through the territory, Giselle had no idea. Creatures of all sorts lurked by the water, drinking and slurping like it was their last drink. Death Seekers sat upon the twisted, tawny branches of discoloured leaves and darkened bark, watching the crowd of animals to pick the next one to pass on. Sun filtered in warmly through the leaves, shading the ground in vibrant shades of red, brown and grey as it slowly passed in the sky over a cloak of blood-red mist that flowed up from the main Death grounds of the Plaguebringer herself.
“Well,” he sighed, catching her attention with the forced lightness and joy in his words, “at least you found your old dragon, eh?” A forced smile appeared at his lips, making Giselle uncomfortable. Does he not want me?
“Yeah,” she muttered in turn, staring at her glowing paws. “I guess I did.”
---
“Again!” Amira roared, pounding her paws in encouragement. Sweat slid its way down Giselle's sloped nose and into the ragged and twisted knots of her Obsidian-coloured fur. She'd missed the Chimera model about five times already, pluming smoke rising from the ditch she'd made in the floor and in the walls. The Tundra felt a sudden pang of sympathy for whoever had to rebuild it, but shook it off. There was no time for pity. She stared at the wooden mannequin before her, levelling her gaze with its own detailed eyes. Not a single spit of magic had managed to scorch the model, but that was what practice was for, right? She felt the electric pulse of her magic fill her longs, her blood, her very essence. It's thrum rang in her ears, cornering her vision on that one mannequin. She focused on the power she felt, leaning into it like it was a comfort. The only comfort she had. Giselle felt it almost rip her open at the seams, and she marvelled in the feeling, letting the feeling guide her towards her target. Closing her eyes, she focused purely on the heartbeat of herself and on the chest of the Chimera model before her; the silver and blue markings of the Beastclan, the golden-brown eyes of their wild nature. She let her Sphene eyes flutter open...
And like that, it all erupted.
A million sparks flew out from thin air, showing both the dragonesses in golden shimmering sparks that were brighter than a billion fireflies. They landed on the floor with little sizzles before burning out of existence, leaving the smallest explosion possible marked on the stone floor of the arena. The mannequin's head had rolled to Amira's feet, most of it being charred wood from the explosion of electric pulse, the trace of which still sang melodically in her blood as her heart raced marathons around her ribcage. Her breath rushed out of her in gusts of exasperation and success, victory and slight sympathy for the small wooden model. It quickly subsided as her older sister ran towards her with her lean and weaving body and threw her arms around her, constantly crying the words “You did it!”, the words piercing through the air at volumes high upon its vehemence and speeds unimaginable. They bounced off of the walls, carrying through the holes in the walls and into Giselle's own heart.
“Nice job, Giselle,” a gruff voice called out, a dark Tundra male padding towards her like a familiar in awe. He had a different looked to Giselle's dark lines and forbidding tones; he had a strip of two parallel lines, deeper than Twilight, running from his cheek to his tail and back round. Between those two lines held a multi coloured palette of dark blue hues, and the same went for his large, bright orange wings that shone stark against the darkness of his skin. He had the same pale runes as her, however. They caught the light of the flickering lightning specks hanging in the air, shining like they were glued on by glitter and tiny, sparkly gems. His eyes weren't like hers, though. They were the icy blue of the Winter Deity who ruled the land of eternal, bittersweet snowflakes and frozen lakes. It explains his thick coat, Giselle thought to herself as the male drew closer. She'd seen him watching a few times and had even asked him his name; it was Phobos. She always found herself thinking it had a nice ring to it, and that he looked like a really good dragon to get to know.
That had been her mission, anyway. Now she just found herself curling up under his gentle gaze, flushing an even softer pink on her cheeks. She thanked the Deities for her fur at this point. She looked towards her sister, who was trying to stifle a giggle behind a choked cough. It didn't work.
“Thanks, Phobos,” Giselle whispered, her voice quiet – almost inaudible. She forced herself to meet his gaze, and it was softer than the fresh snow of winter. His own cheeks were flushed a vibrant rose red that shone against the ruby light of the sun from the holes in the walls. Oops.
“Do you wanna come have a walk with me?” he inquired sheepishly, scratching the fur on his head with a roughened paw absentmindedly.
“Sure!” Giselle exclaimed excitedly, a smile lighting up her face like a beacon at night. She watched as Phobos reflected her own smile.
“Can't wait.” He turned and wandered away, presumably to wait outside for her.
As soon as he left, Amira burst out laughing, her lime green eyes glassing over with teasing tears of joy. Giselle stared at her with heavy lidded eyes, her lips pulling into a frown. “What?” she asked.
“You're unbelievable!” she cried out, gasping for air. “Just tell him how you feel!”
“But—”
“No buts, just tell him. Or I will.” A devilish smile crossed her faced.
“Okay, okay! I'll do it.”
Giselle walked anxiously away from her snorting sister towards the blissfully cool air. The trees outside, despite being dead, swayed in the wind, the little puddles of dark brown seemed like a flittering illusion of the sky above. Phobos was standing in the shade of the large oak tree. It had intertwined branches and an angry looking hole in the centre of it's bark. The Tundra male's wings were stark against the black-brown of the wooden exterior, with his pale and patterned orange pieces of skin fluttering in the soft wind.
“Hey,” she called out to the looming dragon.
“Hey, you okay?” he asked politely.
“Yeah, I wanted to tell you something.”
“Sure, go ahead.”
Silence stretched before then, her heart racing. WhatdoIsaywhatdoIsaywhatdoIsay. “I... I have feelings for you..?”
“Is that a question or a statement?” he chuckled.
“A statement,” she replied, flushing red.
“Well, I have the same feeling for you too.” His own cheeks flushed a bright pink, a cheeky smile playing at his lips.
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
She heard before she saw Amira run out, smiling. “You finally did it,” she called sarcastically, making Giselle smile.
She let herself smile up at the sky, and for once it looked a beautiful, vibrant pastel rose.
---
“I have a sister?”
The squeal that came from the older dragoness's mouth was rather high pitched, her enlightened green eyes roving over the Tundras before her. Giselle stood, mouth parted, before the Spiral female and next to her father. Just a few moments ago, she had remarked on her similar the girls looked, and now it just proves it; she's her sister. The Spiral had the same jagged markings on her flank and neck, riding up and down along the blackened arms to the tips of their paws. She had the Arcanist’s runes carved into her skin, but not painfully. Like Giselle, she'd been born with them. The patterned engravings shone in the early sun of the morning, catching the light and throwing it in all different directions. Her eyes were the exact sane shade as Giselle's own, casting a slightly fluorescent glow around them as they locked gazes and stared at each other in disbelief. Sisters.
“You two look like you're entranced by each other,” their father remarked, smirking. He looked more like Giselle than the Spiral – Amira, she learnt – with his enlarged dark pink wings and pale, shimmering runes whilst Amira's were much darker than both of theirs combined. He had different eyes, however. His eyes were not the pale green of the Sphene gemstone, but the vivid and vibrant red of the Rubies. The Plague flight.
“She looks a lot like you, dad!” Amira called out, smiling happily. She didn't look the least bit bothered. “Who was your mother, Giselle?”
Giselle shrugged. “Does it matter? She left.”
The Tundra watched as Amira's ears flattened and her eyes go from full moons to slits. Whether it was sadness or anger, Giselle couldn't tell. It could even be embarrassment.
“She left you?” their father – Benith – asked politely, bowing his head slightly in a small show of respect for his daughter's privacy. If she didn't want to talk, he would understand.
“Yeah. She decided to go and pursue something else instead. She forgot all about me.”
Benith just sighed. It was a woeful noise, full of pity and sorrow. His eyes went from pure, angry red to a darkened shade of maroon, as if Giselle was looking at them through a shaded lens. His fur, she noticed, had greyed around the edges of his furry locks that ended at his swooping face. The signature of the Tundras in this family, he'd once muttered. His mouth looked tight. Cracked, even. And he had dark rings under his eyes from sleep deprivation. Looking farther down, Giselle saw that the skin on his wings was stretched, deepening the markings already stained there.
Instead of looking straight at her father again, she took it upon herself to fully look around the vast field she had been walking through. In the centre was a lake larger and an Imperial, rippling against the effects of the coursing wind that ran through the Plague valley. Dark shades of grass was littered around in patches of the once-beautiful field, the rest showing dried, dead dirt that had been upturned long before, the sharp arrowhead-like seeds sticking up. Never being able to grow. How the dirt was cracked and torn at when such beautiful water ran through the territory, Giselle had no idea. Creatures of all sorts lurked by the water, drinking and slurping like it was their last drink. Death Seekers sat upon the twisted, tawny branches of discoloured leaves and darkened bark, watching the crowd of animals to pick the next one to pass on. Sun filtered in warmly through the leaves, shading the ground in vibrant shades of red, brown and grey as it slowly passed in the sky over a cloak of blood-red mist that flowed up from the main Death grounds of the Plaguebringer herself.
“Well,” he sighed, catching her attention with the forced lightness and joy in his words, “at least you found your old dragon, eh?” A forced smile appeared at his lips, making Giselle uncomfortable. Does he not want me?
“Yeah,” she muttered in turn, staring at her glowing paws. “I guess I did.”
---
“Again!” Amira roared, pounding her paws in encouragement. Sweat slid its way down Giselle's sloped nose and into the ragged and twisted knots of her Obsidian-coloured fur. She'd missed the Chimera model about five times already, pluming smoke rising from the ditch she'd made in the floor and in the walls. The Tundra felt a sudden pang of sympathy for whoever had to rebuild it, but shook it off. There was no time for pity. She stared at the wooden mannequin before her, levelling her gaze with its own detailed eyes. Not a single spit of magic had managed to scorch the model, but that was what practice was for, right? She felt the electric pulse of her magic fill her longs, her blood, her very essence. It's thrum rang in her ears, cornering her vision on that one mannequin. She focused on the power she felt, leaning into it like it was a comfort. The only comfort she had. Giselle felt it almost rip her open at the seams, and she marvelled in the feeling, letting the feeling guide her towards her target. Closing her eyes, she focused purely on the heartbeat of herself and on the chest of the Chimera model before her; the silver and blue markings of the Beastclan, the golden-brown eyes of their wild nature. She let her Sphene eyes flutter open...
And like that, it all erupted.
A million sparks flew out from thin air, showing both the dragonesses in golden shimmering sparks that were brighter than a billion fireflies. They landed on the floor with little sizzles before burning out of existence, leaving the smallest explosion possible marked on the stone floor of the arena. The mannequin's head had rolled to Amira's feet, most of it being charred wood from the explosion of electric pulse, the trace of which still sang melodically in her blood as her heart raced marathons around her ribcage. Her breath rushed out of her in gusts of exasperation and success, victory and slight sympathy for the small wooden model. It quickly subsided as her older sister ran towards her with her lean and weaving body and threw her arms around her, constantly crying the words “You did it!”, the words piercing through the air at volumes high upon its vehemence and speeds unimaginable. They bounced off of the walls, carrying through the holes in the walls and into Giselle's own heart.
“Nice job, Giselle,” a gruff voice called out, a dark Tundra male padding towards her like a familiar in awe. He had a different looked to Giselle's dark lines and forbidding tones; he had a strip of two parallel lines, deeper than Twilight, running from his cheek to his tail and back round. Between those two lines held a multi coloured palette of dark blue hues, and the same went for his large, bright orange wings that shone stark against the darkness of his skin. He had the same pale runes as her, however. They caught the light of the flickering lightning specks hanging in the air, shining like they were glued on by glitter and tiny, sparkly gems. His eyes weren't like hers, though. They were the icy blue of the Winter Deity who ruled the land of eternal, bittersweet snowflakes and frozen lakes. It explains his thick coat, Giselle thought to herself as the male drew closer. She'd seen him watching a few times and had even asked him his name; it was Phobos. She always found herself thinking it had a nice ring to it, and that he looked like a really good dragon to get to know.
That had been her mission, anyway. Now she just found herself curling up under his gentle gaze, flushing an even softer pink on her cheeks. She thanked the Deities for her fur at this point. She looked towards her sister, who was trying to stifle a giggle behind a choked cough. It didn't work.
“Thanks, Phobos,” Giselle whispered, her voice quiet – almost inaudible. She forced herself to meet his gaze, and it was softer than the fresh snow of winter. His own cheeks were flushed a vibrant rose red that shone against the ruby light of the sun from the holes in the walls. Oops.
“Do you wanna come have a walk with me?” he inquired sheepishly, scratching the fur on his head with a roughened paw absentmindedly.
“Sure!” Giselle exclaimed excitedly, a smile lighting up her face like a beacon at night. She watched as Phobos reflected her own smile.
“Can't wait.” He turned and wandered away, presumably to wait outside for her.
As soon as he left, Amira burst out laughing, her lime green eyes glassing over with teasing tears of joy. Giselle stared at her with heavy lidded eyes, her lips pulling into a frown. “What?” she asked.
“You're unbelievable!” she cried out, gasping for air. “Just tell him how you feel!”
“But—”
“No buts, just tell him. Or I will.” A devilish smile crossed her faced.
“Okay, okay! I'll do it.”
Giselle walked anxiously away from her snorting sister towards the blissfully cool air. The trees outside, despite being dead, swayed in the wind, the little puddles of dark brown seemed like a flittering illusion of the sky above. Phobos was standing in the shade of the large oak tree. It had intertwined branches and an angry looking hole in the centre of it's bark. The Tundra male's wings were stark against the black-brown of the wooden exterior, with his pale and patterned orange pieces of skin fluttering in the soft wind.
“Hey,” she called out to the looming dragon.
“Hey, you okay?” he asked politely.
“Yeah, I wanted to tell you something.”
“Sure, go ahead.”
Silence stretched before then, her heart racing. WhatdoIsaywhatdoIsaywhatdoIsay. “I... I have feelings for you..?”
“Is that a question or a statement?” he chuckled.
“A statement,” she replied, flushing red.
“Well, I have the same feeling for you too.” His own cheeks flushed a bright pink, a cheeky smile playing at his lips.
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
She heard before she saw Amira run out, smiling. “You finally did it,” she called sarcastically, making Giselle smile.
She let herself smile up at the sky, and for once it looked a beautiful, vibrant pastel rose.
Made by @/Ozie for @Peyp for the dragon Giselle.
---
“I have a sister?”
The squeal that came from the older dragoness's mouth was rather high pitched, her enlightened green eyes roving over the Tundras before her. Giselle stood, mouth parted, before the Spiral female and next to her father. Just a few moments ago, she had remarked on her similar the girls looked, and now it just proves it; she's her sister. The Spiral had the same jagged markings on her flank and neck, riding up and down along the blackened arms to the tips of their paws. She had the Arcanist’s runes carved into her skin, but not painfully. Like Giselle, she'd been born with them. The patterned engravings shone in the early sun of the morning, catching the light and throwing it in all different directions. Her eyes were the exact sane shade as Giselle's own, casting a slightly fluorescent glow around them as they locked gazes and stared at each other in disbelief. Sisters.
“You two look like you're entranced by each other,” their father remarked, smirking. He looked more like Giselle than the Spiral – Amira, she learnt – with his enlarged dark pink wings and pale, shimmering runes whilst Amira's were much darker than both of theirs combined. He had different eyes, however. His eyes were not the pale green of the Sphene gemstone, but the vivid and vibrant red of the Rubies. The Plague flight.
“She looks a lot like you, dad!” Amira called out, smiling happily. She didn't look the least bit bothered. “Who was your mother, Giselle?”
Giselle shrugged. “Does it matter? She left.”
The Tundra watched as Amira's ears flattened and her eyes go from full moons to slits. Whether it was sadness or anger, Giselle couldn't tell. It could even be embarrassment.
“She left you?” their father – Benith – asked politely, bowing his head slightly in a small show of respect for his daughter's privacy. If she didn't want to talk, he would understand.
“Yeah. She decided to go and pursue something else instead. She forgot all about me.”
Benith just sighed. It was a woeful noise, full of pity and sorrow. His eyes went from pure, angry red to a darkened shade of maroon, as if Giselle was looking at them through a shaded lens. His fur, she noticed, had greyed around the edges of his furry locks that ended at his swooping face. The signature of the Tundras in this family, he'd once muttered. His mouth looked tight. Cracked, even. And he had dark rings under his eyes from sleep deprivation. Looking farther down, Giselle saw that the skin on his wings was stretched, deepening the markings already stained there.
Instead of looking straight at her father again, she took it upon herself to fully look around the vast field she had been walking through. In the centre was a lake larger and an Imperial, rippling against the effects of the coursing wind that ran through the Plague valley. Dark shades of grass was littered around in patches of the once-beautiful field, the rest showing dried, dead dirt that had been upturned long before, the sharp arrowhead-like seeds sticking up. Never being able to grow. How the dirt was cracked and torn at when such beautiful water ran through the territory, Giselle had no idea. Creatures of all sorts lurked by the water, drinking and slurping like it was their last drink. Death Seekers sat upon the twisted, tawny branches of discoloured leaves and darkened bark, watching the crowd of animals to pick the next one to pass on. Sun filtered in warmly through the leaves, shading the ground in vibrant shades of red, brown and grey as it slowly passed in the sky over a cloak of blood-red mist that flowed up from the main Death grounds of the Plaguebringer herself.
“Well,” he sighed, catching her attention with the forced lightness and joy in his words, “at least you found your old dragon, eh?” A forced smile appeared at his lips, making Giselle uncomfortable. Does he not want me?
“Yeah,” she muttered in turn, staring at her glowing paws. “I guess I did.”
---
“Again!” Amira roared, pounding her paws in encouragement. Sweat slid its way down Giselle's sloped nose and into the ragged and twisted knots of her Obsidian-coloured fur. She'd missed the Chimera model about five times already, pluming smoke rising from the ditch she'd made in the floor and in the walls. The Tundra felt a sudden pang of sympathy for whoever had to rebuild it, but shook it off. There was no time for pity. She stared at the wooden mannequin before her, levelling her gaze with its own detailed eyes. Not a single spit of magic had managed to scorch the model, but that was what practice was for, right? She felt the electric pulse of her magic fill her longs, her blood, her very essence. It's thrum rang in her ears, cornering her vision on that one mannequin. She focused on the power she felt, leaning into it like it was a comfort. The only comfort she had. Giselle felt it almost rip her open at the seams, and she marvelled in the feeling, letting the feeling guide her towards her target. Closing her eyes, she focused purely on the heartbeat of herself and on the chest of the Chimera model before her; the silver and blue markings of the Beastclan, the golden-brown eyes of their wild nature. She let her Sphene eyes flutter open...
And like that, it all erupted.
A million sparks flew out from thin air, showing both the dragonesses in golden shimmering sparks that were brighter than a billion fireflies. They landed on the floor with little sizzles before burning out of existence, leaving the smallest explosion possible marked on the stone floor of the arena. The mannequin's head had rolled to Amira's feet, most of it being charred wood from the explosion of electric pulse, the trace of which still sang melodically in her blood as her heart raced marathons around her ribcage. Her breath rushed out of her in gusts of exasperation and success, victory and slight sympathy for the small wooden model. It quickly subsided as her older sister ran towards her with her lean and weaving body and threw her arms around her, constantly crying the words “You did it!”, the words piercing through the air at volumes high upon its vehemence and speeds unimaginable. They bounced off of the walls, carrying through the holes in the walls and into Giselle's own heart.
“Nice job, Giselle,” a gruff voice called out, a dark Tundra male padding towards her like a familiar in awe. He had a different looked to Giselle's dark lines and forbidding tones; he had a strip of two parallel lines, deeper than Twilight, running from his cheek to his tail and back round. Between those two lines held a multi coloured palette of dark blue hues, and the same went for his large, bright orange wings that shone stark against the darkness of his skin. He had the same pale runes as her, however. They caught the light of the flickering lightning specks hanging in the air, shining like they were glued on by glitter and tiny, sparkly gems. His eyes weren't like hers, though. They were the icy blue of the Winter Deity who ruled the land of eternal, bittersweet snowflakes and frozen lakes. It explains his thick coat, Giselle thought to herself as the male drew closer. She'd seen him watching a few times and had even asked him his name; it was Phobos. She always found herself thinking it had a nice ring to it, and that he looked like a really good dragon to get to know.
That had been her mission, anyway. Now she just found herself curling up under his gentle gaze, flushing an even softer pink on her cheeks. She thanked the Deities for her fur at this point. She looked towards her sister, who was trying to stifle a giggle behind a choked cough. It didn't work.
“Thanks, Phobos,” Giselle whispered, her voice quiet – almost inaudible. She forced herself to meet his gaze, and it was softer than the fresh snow of winter. His own cheeks were flushed a vibrant rose red that shone against the ruby light of the sun from the holes in the walls. Oops.
“Do you wanna come have a walk with me?” he inquired sheepishly, scratching the fur on his head with a roughened paw absentmindedly.
“Sure!” Giselle exclaimed excitedly, a smile lighting up her face like a beacon at night. She watched as Phobos reflected her own smile.
“Can't wait.” He turned and wandered away, presumably to wait outside for her.
As soon as he left, Amira burst out laughing, her lime green eyes glassing over with teasing tears of joy. Giselle stared at her with heavy lidded eyes, her lips pulling into a frown. “What?” she asked.
“You're unbelievable!” she cried out, gasping for air. “Just tell him how you feel!”
“But—”
“No buts, just tell him. Or I will.” A devilish smile crossed her faced.
“Okay, okay! I'll do it.”
Giselle walked anxiously away from her snorting sister towards the blissfully cool air. The trees outside, despite being dead, swayed in the wind, the little puddles of dark brown seemed like a flittering illusion of the sky above. Phobos was standing in the shade of the large oak tree. It had intertwined branches and an angry looking hole in the centre of it's bark. The Tundra male's wings were stark against the black-brown of the wooden exterior, with his pale and patterned orange pieces of skin fluttering in the soft wind.
“Hey,” she called out to the looming dragon.
“Hey, you okay?” he asked politely.
“Yeah, I wanted to tell you something.”
“Sure, go ahead.”
Silence stretched before then, her heart racing. WhatdoIsaywhatdoIsaywhatdoIsay. “I... I have feelings for you..?”
“Is that a question or a statement?” he chuckled.
“A statement,” she replied, flushing red.
“Well, I have the same feeling for you too.” His own cheeks flushed a bright pink, a cheeky smile playing at his lips.
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
She heard before she saw Amira run out, smiling. “You finally did it,” she called sarcastically, making Giselle smile.
She let herself smile up at the sky, and for once it looked a beautiful, vibrant pastel rose.
---
“I have a sister?”
The squeal that came from the older dragoness's mouth was rather high pitched, her enlightened green eyes roving over the Tundras before her. Giselle stood, mouth parted, before the Spiral female and next to her father. Just a few moments ago, she had remarked on her similar the girls looked, and now it just proves it; she's her sister. The Spiral had the same jagged markings on her flank and neck, riding up and down along the blackened arms to the tips of their paws. She had the Arcanist’s runes carved into her skin, but not painfully. Like Giselle, she'd been born with them. The patterned engravings shone in the early sun of the morning, catching the light and throwing it in all different directions. Her eyes were the exact sane shade as Giselle's own, casting a slightly fluorescent glow around them as they locked gazes and stared at each other in disbelief. Sisters.
“You two look like you're entranced by each other,” their father remarked, smirking. He looked more like Giselle than the Spiral – Amira, she learnt – with his enlarged dark pink wings and pale, shimmering runes whilst Amira's were much darker than both of theirs combined. He had different eyes, however. His eyes were not the pale green of the Sphene gemstone, but the vivid and vibrant red of the Rubies. The Plague flight.
“She looks a lot like you, dad!” Amira called out, smiling happily. She didn't look the least bit bothered. “Who was your mother, Giselle?”
Giselle shrugged. “Does it matter? She left.”
The Tundra watched as Amira's ears flattened and her eyes go from full moons to slits. Whether it was sadness or anger, Giselle couldn't tell. It could even be embarrassment.
“She left you?” their father – Benith – asked politely, bowing his head slightly in a small show of respect for his daughter's privacy. If she didn't want to talk, he would understand.
“Yeah. She decided to go and pursue something else instead. She forgot all about me.”
Benith just sighed. It was a woeful noise, full of pity and sorrow. His eyes went from pure, angry red to a darkened shade of maroon, as if Giselle was looking at them through a shaded lens. His fur, she noticed, had greyed around the edges of his furry locks that ended at his swooping face. The signature of the Tundras in this family, he'd once muttered. His mouth looked tight. Cracked, even. And he had dark rings under his eyes from sleep deprivation. Looking farther down, Giselle saw that the skin on his wings was stretched, deepening the markings already stained there.
Instead of looking straight at her father again, she took it upon herself to fully look around the vast field she had been walking through. In the centre was a lake larger and an Imperial, rippling against the effects of the coursing wind that ran through the Plague valley. Dark shades of grass was littered around in patches of the once-beautiful field, the rest showing dried, dead dirt that had been upturned long before, the sharp arrowhead-like seeds sticking up. Never being able to grow. How the dirt was cracked and torn at when such beautiful water ran through the territory, Giselle had no idea. Creatures of all sorts lurked by the water, drinking and slurping like it was their last drink. Death Seekers sat upon the twisted, tawny branches of discoloured leaves and darkened bark, watching the crowd of animals to pick the next one to pass on. Sun filtered in warmly through the leaves, shading the ground in vibrant shades of red, brown and grey as it slowly passed in the sky over a cloak of blood-red mist that flowed up from the main Death grounds of the Plaguebringer herself.
“Well,” he sighed, catching her attention with the forced lightness and joy in his words, “at least you found your old dragon, eh?” A forced smile appeared at his lips, making Giselle uncomfortable. Does he not want me?
“Yeah,” she muttered in turn, staring at her glowing paws. “I guess I did.”
---
“Again!” Amira roared, pounding her paws in encouragement. Sweat slid its way down Giselle's sloped nose and into the ragged and twisted knots of her Obsidian-coloured fur. She'd missed the Chimera model about five times already, pluming smoke rising from the ditch she'd made in the floor and in the walls. The Tundra felt a sudden pang of sympathy for whoever had to rebuild it, but shook it off. There was no time for pity. She stared at the wooden mannequin before her, levelling her gaze with its own detailed eyes. Not a single spit of magic had managed to scorch the model, but that was what practice was for, right? She felt the electric pulse of her magic fill her longs, her blood, her very essence. It's thrum rang in her ears, cornering her vision on that one mannequin. She focused on the power she felt, leaning into it like it was a comfort. The only comfort she had. Giselle felt it almost rip her open at the seams, and she marvelled in the feeling, letting the feeling guide her towards her target. Closing her eyes, she focused purely on the heartbeat of herself and on the chest of the Chimera model before her; the silver and blue markings of the Beastclan, the golden-brown eyes of their wild nature. She let her Sphene eyes flutter open...
And like that, it all erupted.
A million sparks flew out from thin air, showing both the dragonesses in golden shimmering sparks that were brighter than a billion fireflies. They landed on the floor with little sizzles before burning out of existence, leaving the smallest explosion possible marked on the stone floor of the arena. The mannequin's head had rolled to Amira's feet, most of it being charred wood from the explosion of electric pulse, the trace of which still sang melodically in her blood as her heart raced marathons around her ribcage. Her breath rushed out of her in gusts of exasperation and success, victory and slight sympathy for the small wooden model. It quickly subsided as her older sister ran towards her with her lean and weaving body and threw her arms around her, constantly crying the words “You did it!”, the words piercing through the air at volumes high upon its vehemence and speeds unimaginable. They bounced off of the walls, carrying through the holes in the walls and into Giselle's own heart.
“Nice job, Giselle,” a gruff voice called out, a dark Tundra male padding towards her like a familiar in awe. He had a different looked to Giselle's dark lines and forbidding tones; he had a strip of two parallel lines, deeper than Twilight, running from his cheek to his tail and back round. Between those two lines held a multi coloured palette of dark blue hues, and the same went for his large, bright orange wings that shone stark against the darkness of his skin. He had the same pale runes as her, however. They caught the light of the flickering lightning specks hanging in the air, shining like they were glued on by glitter and tiny, sparkly gems. His eyes weren't like hers, though. They were the icy blue of the Winter Deity who ruled the land of eternal, bittersweet snowflakes and frozen lakes. It explains his thick coat, Giselle thought to herself as the male drew closer. She'd seen him watching a few times and had even asked him his name; it was Phobos. She always found herself thinking it had a nice ring to it, and that he looked like a really good dragon to get to know.
That had been her mission, anyway. Now she just found herself curling up under his gentle gaze, flushing an even softer pink on her cheeks. She thanked the Deities for her fur at this point. She looked towards her sister, who was trying to stifle a giggle behind a choked cough. It didn't work.
“Thanks, Phobos,” Giselle whispered, her voice quiet – almost inaudible. She forced herself to meet his gaze, and it was softer than the fresh snow of winter. His own cheeks were flushed a vibrant rose red that shone against the ruby light of the sun from the holes in the walls. Oops.
“Do you wanna come have a walk with me?” he inquired sheepishly, scratching the fur on his head with a roughened paw absentmindedly.
“Sure!” Giselle exclaimed excitedly, a smile lighting up her face like a beacon at night. She watched as Phobos reflected her own smile.
“Can't wait.” He turned and wandered away, presumably to wait outside for her.
As soon as he left, Amira burst out laughing, her lime green eyes glassing over with teasing tears of joy. Giselle stared at her with heavy lidded eyes, her lips pulling into a frown. “What?” she asked.
“You're unbelievable!” she cried out, gasping for air. “Just tell him how you feel!”
“But—”
“No buts, just tell him. Or I will.” A devilish smile crossed her faced.
“Okay, okay! I'll do it.”
Giselle walked anxiously away from her snorting sister towards the blissfully cool air. The trees outside, despite being dead, swayed in the wind, the little puddles of dark brown seemed like a flittering illusion of the sky above. Phobos was standing in the shade of the large oak tree. It had intertwined branches and an angry looking hole in the centre of it's bark. The Tundra male's wings were stark against the black-brown of the wooden exterior, with his pale and patterned orange pieces of skin fluttering in the soft wind.
“Hey,” she called out to the looming dragon.
“Hey, you okay?” he asked politely.
“Yeah, I wanted to tell you something.”
“Sure, go ahead.”
Silence stretched before then, her heart racing. WhatdoIsaywhatdoIsaywhatdoIsay. “I... I have feelings for you..?”
“Is that a question or a statement?” he chuckled.
“A statement,” she replied, flushing red.
“Well, I have the same feeling for you too.” His own cheeks flushed a bright pink, a cheeky smile playing at his lips.
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
She heard before she saw Amira run out, smiling. “You finally did it,” she called sarcastically, making Giselle smile.
She let herself smile up at the sky, and for once it looked a beautiful, vibrant pastel rose.
@Ozie
That was an amazing story, thank you! I really like the flow and the characters, you hit the bully's eye with their personality! ^-^
That was an amazing story, thank you! I really like the flow and the characters, you hit the bully's eye with their personality! ^-^
@Ozie
That was an amazing story, thank you! I really like the flow and the characters, you hit the bully's eye with their personality! ^-^
That was an amazing story, thank you! I really like the flow and the characters, you hit the bully's eye with their personality! ^-^
@Peyp for the past few days, I've been trying to write Phobos' lore but the beginning of it just doesn't... fit. Would you mind if I changed it up a little bit? I will definitely add the meeting in the lore, I just want to change the beginning a little bit! :)
@Peyp for the past few days, I've been trying to write Phobos' lore but the beginning of it just doesn't... fit. Would you mind if I changed it up a little bit? I will definitely add the meeting in the lore, I just want to change the beginning a little bit! :)