@SkyLarK Hi! I'd love if you could write a little piece about my girl here.
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This is Tryl, she is very reserved and wary of others, but cares very much for the happiness of those closest to her. She is very strong willed and will complete any task she sets her mind to. I like to think of her being pretty adventurous and outgoing, so something fun might be writing about one of her adventures (but feel free to so whatever you'd like)
@
SkyLarK Hi! I'd love if you could write a little piece about my girl here.
This is Tryl, she is very reserved and wary of others, but cares very much for the happiness of those closest to her. She is very strong willed and will complete any task she sets her mind to. I like to think of her being pretty adventurous and outgoing, so something fun might be writing about one of her adventures (but feel free to so whatever you'd like)
@SkyLarK
maybe you could write an event on these two? Failon tries to act more serious around others, and if you read Altair's bio he's pretty good at making trouble. Also, I don't mind what type of writing you do
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SkyLarK
maybe you could write an event on these two? Failon tries to act more serious around others, and if you read Altair's bio he's pretty good at making trouble. Also, I don't mind what type of writing you do
@Skylark
I don't know if you would be interested in this since it tackles more dragons than others ask for (yes, I am very willing to tip) and has more story idea than others seem to give. Perfectly okay if you don't want to but I think I'd Love your story. :) I've loved everything you've written for everyone else.
So, here's the jist: Glynwen (my guardian) has left her clan to search for what she is supposed to be guarding. Along the way she runs across a destroyed clan site with 2 eggs still in 1 nest and 1 in another. 1 from each nest hatches. She eventually abandons the other. The hatchlings are Chess (very smart is all I have on her) and Seranida (nothing figured out for her). They're highly energetic and cause Glynwen all sorts of grief on the road. I'm okay with this much of what I've gotten worked out and you're welcome to play with it as little or much as you like because I doubt I'll ever get it more filled in than that.
The short story part comes in when she meets Tobin. All I've got for this is the "sisters" are up to some mischief that poor Glynwen is trying to handle. Tobin is traveling himself, sees this scene, cracks up laughing then helps dragonet-challenged Glynwen in getting them sorted out & behaving. They travel together after that.
Glynwen
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Chess
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Seranida
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Tobin
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@
Skylark
I don't know if you would be interested in this since it tackles more dragons than others ask for (yes, I am very willing to tip) and has more story idea than others seem to give. Perfectly okay if you don't want to but I think I'd Love your story. :) I've loved everything you've written for everyone else.
So, here's the jist: Glynwen (my guardian) has left her clan to search for what she is supposed to be guarding. Along the way she runs across a destroyed clan site with 2 eggs still in 1 nest and 1 in another. 1 from each nest hatches. She eventually abandons the other. The hatchlings are Chess (very smart is all I have on her) and Seranida (nothing figured out for her). They're highly energetic and cause Glynwen all sorts of grief on the road. I'm okay with this much of what I've gotten worked out and you're welcome to play with it as little or much as you like because I doubt I'll ever get it more filled in than that.
The short story part comes in when she meets Tobin. All I've got for this is the "sisters" are up to some mischief that poor Glynwen is trying to handle. Tobin is traveling himself, sees this scene, cracks up laughing then helps dragonet-challenged Glynwen in getting them sorted out & behaving. They travel together after that.
Glynwen
Chess
Seranida
Tobin
@Skylark
Could you do this guy? And how much would you prefer as a tip?
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Faillon is the lead hunter of the clan and tends to come home with just the right types of meats. He's normally in the clan's territory hunting even if its night or day but always makes it home before sunrise. Some days if the food fine he will stay home with his mate Delta.
Most of the time he has to be strict but when he gets back and is resting he's normally a cuddly bear. Dispite the colors.
@
Skylark
Could you do this guy? And how much would you prefer as a tip?
[img][/img]
Faillon is the lead hunter of the clan and tends to come home with just the right types of meats. He's normally in the clan's territory hunting even if its night or day but always makes it home before sunrise. Some days if the food fine he will stay home with his mate Delta.
Most of the time he has to be strict but when he gets back and is resting he's normally a cuddly bear. Dispite the colors.
Happy holidays and a happy NotN to all of you! I hope those of you who experienced a delay didn’t mind it. I had a Merry Christmas to experience, haha.
[quote=For @Hummingbirdb, I]Tryl’s dark claws scrabbled for purchase on the face of the cliff, leaving faint markings in the surface of the stone. Lungs heaving, she pulled herself up, her laborious exhales transforming into small white clouds before her slender beak. The pads of her forepaws were nearly frozen from tracking over the snow-covered rocks. Still, she moved onward and upward, traversing the craggy peaks of the mountains that overshadowed the lair of her clan.
Dragons asked her why she went off so often in search of her adventures. They wondered why a sensible dragon would put themselves in danger for what seemed to have no purpose at all. Tryl found that she rarely had a good answer for them. To her, exploring the world was just like eating or breathing. It was something that she just instinctively knew that she needed to do in order to truly live. However, while eating fed her body, adventuring fed her soul.
She lunged up over the final precipice, hauling her serpentine body over onto a flat table of stone. Her lungs fought for air in the thinner atmosphere as she stood for several moments, regaining her energy. Taking a few deeper breaths, she stepped out, walking to the very end of the ledge and hooking her long claws around it for balance. Feeling the blood rushing to her head, she peered over and down, down, down at the world below.
The frozen glacier tumbled into the valley where her clan had taken up residence, sparkling in the icy winter sun. She could see the tiny forms of her clanmates milling below her, little more than tiny, dark snowflakes in a field of pure white. The world yawned before her, massive and majestic, streaming ever onward beyond the horizon. She took a deep breath, squinting her eyes a bit against the dramatically refracting rays of light.
This was it, she thought to herself. Her mouth twitched into a triumphant smile beneath the sheen of sweat on her glossy coat. She took a deep breath, the cold air whistling into her lungs. The wind nipped at her back, weaving through her rumpled mane, but she couldn’t even feel it beyond the warm, expansive feeling of accomplishment racing through her veins. “This is why.” She said aloud with a grin, the words swirling out into the open air on a cloud of pure white vapor. The wind swept them away, into the far beyond that she was certain she would visit one day.[/quote][quote=For @psychoneko, I]“Altair!” Faillon’s deep, booming voice echoed out into the room from the entranceway. It prompted a diminutive purple fae to poke his head around the corner, his eyes flicking away from a spellscroll and toward the sound. “I need you to take a message!” Without a moment’s hesitation, Altair hurried down from his place atop the table, leaping over the edge to greet the large imperial.
However, his jump did not go as smoothly as planned. Instead, the tip of his wing caught the stand of an oil lamp, sending it crashing down onto the table. The lantern cracked open, splattering oil everywhere. The flames came after immediately, lapping up the fuel like a hungry animal. They leapt wildly, igniting every scrap of parchment within reach.
Altair froze, his eyes going wide. He gazed blankly at the growing fire, completely horror-stricken at what he had done. He was not even able to twitch a single muscle as the flames lashed out angrily. They reached out for his petrified form, devouring the notes and beginning to dig deeper, scorching the oil-soaked wood of the carved mahogany table.
“Windsinger’s belly scales!” Faillon roared as he rounded the corner into his study, his voice shot through with alarm. Leaving his precious notes to the massive blaze, he snapped up the tiny fae, darting from the burning building. He ran to safety, carrying the shocked and terrified Altair dangling from his mouth. Yelling for the water dragons, Faillon dropped the fae on a moss-covered stone quite a distance away from the inferno that had engulfed the paper-filled study. The enormous imperial glowered, opening his jaws to deliver the scolding of a lifetime.
He didn’t even have time to utter a word before Altair yelped, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! I really am!” The fae crouched down, his tail shoved between his legs. While his face bore the typical neutral expression of his breed, the erratic fluttering of his frills clearly displaying just how afraid and apologetic he was. “It--it was just an accident! I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I know I always cause trouble, I’m sorry!” His voice quaked uncontrollably, deviating from its usual monotone, choking on the words. “I don’t mean to, promise, I’m so clumsy, I’m so sorry!” Faillon’s expression softened as he took a deep, steadying breath.
“It’s--all right.” He said finally in an even tone, his head dipping down to eye the fae.
Altair’s frills quavered. “R-Really?” He stammered, barely daring to look up at the massive dragon.
“Yes.” Faillon said kindly, the anger melting out of his expression. “Notes and belongings can be replaced. Not easily, mind you, some of those were inordinately valua--” He cleared his throat for several moments, reminding himself to get back on track. “But great assistants,” he looked at Altair with a little glimmer in his eye, “. . . well, those are a sight harder to come by!” Altair heaved a sigh of relief, his limbs still shaking visibly. Faillon coughed, as if to cover up the previous softness in his tone. “But! The moment they get those flames out, I expect you to transcribe everything that can be salvaged!”
Altair grinned, his frills quivering upward hopefully. “Straight away, sir!” Faillon’s mouth twitched into an approving smile.[/quote][quote=For @SylvrFox, I]“By the Windsinger . . .” Glynwen’s words failed her as she crested the hill and looked at the destruction that lay before her paws. The ground was damp with blood and scorched by dragon fire, long streaks of black soot crisscrossing the grim landscape. She stepped gingerly, as if to avoid desecrating the bitter stillness of the battlefield. Her gorge rose as she surveyed the smoking ruin, the stench of death and decay rising up, thick and cloying.
Precious little was left of the clan. Most provisions had been looted, though the bare scatterings of life remained, assumingly abandoned when the fight had begun. Glynwen walked carefully, feeling the heavy haunting of lives lost lingering in the corners of the burned caverns. Reminders of the dragons that once were were everywhere. A scarf, a broken basket, a bent piece of plate armor, a half-eaten apple.They stood as sad testaments, the only things left of the inhabitants. She ventured on through the ruin, treading quietly, not quite sure what she was searching for.
What she found, however, was something she least expected. The mere sight of it dragged the breath from her lungs in one fell swoop. Three eggs, nestled amid two hollows of sticks and soft feathers. A scorched, unrecognizable skeleton lay nearby, perhaps from a creature that had meant them harm. It had succeeded at least partially, as one of the eggs was damaged beyond repair, the shell broken inward by brute force. However, the other two remained intact and seemingly healthy.
She picked them up gently, reverently, feeling the faint stirrings of dragon magic as she pressed the tip of her muzzle against them. Yes. There was hope for these yet. She clutched them close to her chest with one forepaw, retreating from the horror of the lair. She walked beyond the carnage, cradling the two eggs tightly until she could no longer smell the bitter death of the battlefield. Finding shelter in an old den scraped from the earth, she assembled a nest from the soft, green grasses that surrounded the area.
She set the eggs ever so gently in the middle, curling her long body around them. Tucking her tail firmly against them, her eyes remained ever watchful, locked on the entrance to her makeshift lair. She had originally set out to find her Charge, but instead she had found something quite different. All the same, it was important. For now, her Search would wait. For now, she had her charge.
[center]~[/center]
“Slow down, Chess!” Glynwen barked, increasing her pace to keep up with the tumbling, haphazard gallop of the two imperial hatchlings. “Seranida, don’t touch that!” She loped along, casting her eyes upward helplessly with a huff. In her wildest dreams, she wouldn’t have imagined that two small dragons could possibly cause her this much trouble. They kept her constantly on her toes with their wild antics, sticking their noses into absolutely everything.
The two sisters careened ahead, advancing quite quickly until Seranida decided it was the best time to start a play fight. She lunged at Chess, bowling her over and pouncing quickly to take the upper claw in the match. “Windsinger’s spines, you two!” Glynwen called after them, quite exasperated. The hatchlings ignored her, their long bodies interlocked as they bit at one another with harmlessly small teeth. She caught up with them easily but was quickly confronted with the problem of separating the two. Now how was she supposed to accomplish that?
An odd chuffing noise behind her interrupted her thoughts. She turned to look, noticing a male skydancer standing a short distance away. He had a satchel strung across his back, leading her to believe he was a traveller. She stared at him quizzically for several moments before realizing that he was [i]laughing[/i]. Presumably at her. Glynwen uttered a low, indignant growl in the interloper’s general direction before turning her eyes back to her seemingly impossible task. She strove to ignore the hysterical peals of laughter behind her, gritting her teeth.
After several more moments of fruitless effort in splitting up the squabbling pair, the stranger seemed to swallow his giggling for long enough to speak. “Hello, little ones! Would you like to see something fascinating?” This caught the youngsters’ attention immediately, and they snapped their heads to attention. He beckoned them over, gesturing to something in the long grass. They bounded over, nearly tripping over one another in their eagerness to find out what the object in question was.
Glynwen followed very closely, eyeing the stranger to see if he had any ulterior motive. However, it became quite apparent that he didn’t. He pointed out a large, stripped beetle that was slowly crawling through the grass. “See, isn’t that interesting?” The sisters nodded vehemently, peering intensely at the insect.
She took the brief pause in the squabbling of the sisters to ask him for his name. “Tobin,” he responded congenially, dipping his head. “At your service. And may I ask yours?”
“Glynwen,” she replied easily. They both watched the hatchlings for a few minutes as Chess poked the beetle with one paw. It looked quite disgruntled, but did not react otherwise. “How did you learn to do that?” She asked finally.
“What? How to stop them from fighting?” Glynwen nodded. “I grew up in a clan with a lot of hatchlings. They’re curious little ones. You just need to know how to capture their attention!”
“You seem to have quite a way with them.” Glynwen admitted thoughtfully, casting her eyes from the playful hatchlings to the colorful skydancer. “. . . How would you like to accompany us?” She asked, watching him closely.
“I would be honored, my lady.” Tobin dipped his head low with a smile that quickly became a laugh as Seranida took the opportunity to stuff the beetle into her mouth.
“Sera!” Chess protested loudly, her brows furrowing. “I wasn’t done looking!”
“We’d best be off, then!” Tobin told them quickly. “Perhaps we’ll find another one!” He added in a cheerful tone for Chess’s benefit. This seemed to please the sisters immensely, and they set off at a much slower pace, scouring the ground. Glynwen cast him an appreciative gaze as the group set out again, this time with one more member than before.[/quote]
@BabyBumbleBee, however much you feel like. I’m not picky, truth be told, haha.
[quote=For BabyBumbleBee, I]It was already dusk by the time Faillon stalked back into the clan, a brace of rabbits hanging from his mouth and a much larger elk slung across his back. It had been a fairly long day of hunting, but it had been a productive one. He was a skilled hunter, tasked with bringing in the necessary meat for the clan’s hoards. His piercing ruby eyes swept over his clanmates, prompting them to move out of his way as swiftly as possible. One pearlcatcher even ended up crowhopping sideways in his effort to move.
It wasn’t that Faillon was an ornery dragon, not by a long stretch. But the fact remained that his looks were fairly imposing. With a deep, blood red body and eyes that glittered like shards of glass, Faillon often appeared as if he were out for a hunt no matter what he happened to be doing. It kept many dragons from getting too close to him, much to their own misfortune.
He deposited the kills as quickly as he could, leaving them to be prepared and distributed by the dragons who guarded it. The very moment he was done, he trotted back to the den he shared with his mate. His gait was much lighter than before, not only because the several hundred kilogram elk was no longer on his back. When he stepped into the warm comfort of his home and saw her, he broke into a joyous, adoring grin. “Welcome home, sweetie.” Delta greeted warmly from her resting place, her mouth curving into a happy smile.
He scampered over to her, kissing her cheek and burying his muzzle in her feathers. “Long day?” She asked, and he responded by burrowing his nose deeper down. Delta giggled in response, setting aside the papers and holding up one of her forelegs as an invitation for him to come closer. He climbed up onto the warm nest of pelts gleefully, curling up against her
His breathing slowing until it matched her deep, even exhales. She lowered her head to affectionately preen the feathers of his crest, and in response, he reached out with his forepaws, pulling her closer. She laughed lightly, smiling as he closed his eyes. He sighed happily under her gentle touches, holding onto her and snuggling down. The fact was that, under his down to earth, stern exterior, there was a warm heart that loved nothing more than the quiet evenings spent with his mate. Satisfied with the state of his feathers, she laid her head down beside his. They remained in their close, entangling embrace until the morning came.[/quote]
Happy holidays and a happy NotN to all of you! I hope those of you who experienced a delay didn’t mind it. I had a Merry Christmas to experience, haha.
Tryl’s dark claws scrabbled for purchase on the face of the cliff, leaving faint markings in the surface of the stone. Lungs heaving, she pulled herself up, her laborious exhales transforming into small white clouds before her slender beak. The pads of her forepaws were nearly frozen from tracking over the snow-covered rocks. Still, she moved onward and upward, traversing the craggy peaks of the mountains that overshadowed the lair of her clan.
Dragons asked her why she went off so often in search of her adventures. They wondered why a sensible dragon would put themselves in danger for what seemed to have no purpose at all. Tryl found that she rarely had a good answer for them. To her, exploring the world was just like eating or breathing. It was something that she just instinctively knew that she needed to do in order to truly live. However, while eating fed her body, adventuring fed her soul.
She lunged up over the final precipice, hauling her serpentine body over onto a flat table of stone. Her lungs fought for air in the thinner atmosphere as she stood for several moments, regaining her energy. Taking a few deeper breaths, she stepped out, walking to the very end of the ledge and hooking her long claws around it for balance. Feeling the blood rushing to her head, she peered over and down, down, down at the world below.
The frozen glacier tumbled into the valley where her clan had taken up residence, sparkling in the icy winter sun. She could see the tiny forms of her clanmates milling below her, little more than tiny, dark snowflakes in a field of pure white. The world yawned before her, massive and majestic, streaming ever onward beyond the horizon. She took a deep breath, squinting her eyes a bit against the dramatically refracting rays of light.
This was it, she thought to herself. Her mouth twitched into a triumphant smile beneath the sheen of sweat on her glossy coat. She took a deep breath, the cold air whistling into her lungs. The wind nipped at her back, weaving through her rumpled mane, but she couldn’t even feel it beyond the warm, expansive feeling of accomplishment racing through her veins. “This is why.” She said aloud with a grin, the words swirling out into the open air on a cloud of pure white vapor. The wind swept them away, into the far beyond that she was certain she would visit one day.
“Altair!” Faillon’s deep, booming voice echoed out into the room from the entranceway. It prompted a diminutive purple fae to poke his head around the corner, his eyes flicking away from a spellscroll and toward the sound. “I need you to take a message!” Without a moment’s hesitation, Altair hurried down from his place atop the table, leaping over the edge to greet the large imperial.
However, his jump did not go as smoothly as planned. Instead, the tip of his wing caught the stand of an oil lamp, sending it crashing down onto the table. The lantern cracked open, splattering oil everywhere. The flames came after immediately, lapping up the fuel like a hungry animal. They leapt wildly, igniting every scrap of parchment within reach.
Altair froze, his eyes going wide. He gazed blankly at the growing fire, completely horror-stricken at what he had done. He was not even able to twitch a single muscle as the flames lashed out angrily. They reached out for his petrified form, devouring the notes and beginning to dig deeper, scorching the oil-soaked wood of the carved mahogany table.
“Windsinger’s belly scales!” Faillon roared as he rounded the corner into his study, his voice shot through with alarm. Leaving his precious notes to the massive blaze, he snapped up the tiny fae, darting from the burning building. He ran to safety, carrying the shocked and terrified Altair dangling from his mouth. Yelling for the water dragons, Faillon dropped the fae on a moss-covered stone quite a distance away from the inferno that had engulfed the paper-filled study. The enormous imperial glowered, opening his jaws to deliver the scolding of a lifetime.
He didn’t even have time to utter a word before Altair yelped, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! I really am!” The fae crouched down, his tail shoved between his legs. While his face bore the typical neutral expression of his breed, the erratic fluttering of his frills clearly displaying just how afraid and apologetic he was. “It--it was just an accident! I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I know I always cause trouble, I’m sorry!” His voice quaked uncontrollably, deviating from its usual monotone, choking on the words. “I don’t mean to, promise, I’m so clumsy, I’m so sorry!” Faillon’s expression softened as he took a deep, steadying breath.
“It’s--all right.” He said finally in an even tone, his head dipping down to eye the fae.
Altair’s frills quavered. “R-Really?” He stammered, barely daring to look up at the massive dragon.
“Yes.” Faillon said kindly, the anger melting out of his expression. “Notes and belongings can be replaced. Not easily, mind you, some of those were inordinately valua--” He cleared his throat for several moments, reminding himself to get back on track. “But great assistants,” he looked at Altair with a little glimmer in his eye, “. . . well, those are a sight harder to come by!” Altair heaved a sigh of relief, his limbs still shaking visibly. Faillon coughed, as if to cover up the previous softness in his tone. “But! The moment they get those flames out, I expect you to transcribe everything that can be salvaged!”
Altair grinned, his frills quivering upward hopefully. “Straight away, sir!” Faillon’s mouth twitched into an approving smile.
“By the Windsinger . . .” Glynwen’s words failed her as she crested the hill and looked at the destruction that lay before her paws. The ground was damp with blood and scorched by dragon fire, long streaks of black soot crisscrossing the grim landscape. She stepped gingerly, as if to avoid desecrating the bitter stillness of the battlefield. Her gorge rose as she surveyed the smoking ruin, the stench of death and decay rising up, thick and cloying.
Precious little was left of the clan. Most provisions had been looted, though the bare scatterings of life remained, assumingly abandoned when the fight had begun. Glynwen walked carefully, feeling the heavy haunting of lives lost lingering in the corners of the burned caverns. Reminders of the dragons that once were were everywhere. A scarf, a broken basket, a bent piece of plate armor, a half-eaten apple.They stood as sad testaments, the only things left of the inhabitants. She ventured on through the ruin, treading quietly, not quite sure what she was searching for.
What she found, however, was something she least expected. The mere sight of it dragged the breath from her lungs in one fell swoop. Three eggs, nestled amid two hollows of sticks and soft feathers. A scorched, unrecognizable skeleton lay nearby, perhaps from a creature that had meant them harm. It had succeeded at least partially, as one of the eggs was damaged beyond repair, the shell broken inward by brute force. However, the other two remained intact and seemingly healthy.
She picked them up gently, reverently, feeling the faint stirrings of dragon magic as she pressed the tip of her muzzle against them. Yes. There was hope for these yet. She clutched them close to her chest with one forepaw, retreating from the horror of the lair. She walked beyond the carnage, cradling the two eggs tightly until she could no longer smell the bitter death of the battlefield. Finding shelter in an old den scraped from the earth, she assembled a nest from the soft, green grasses that surrounded the area.
She set the eggs ever so gently in the middle, curling her long body around them. Tucking her tail firmly against them, her eyes remained ever watchful, locked on the entrance to her makeshift lair. She had originally set out to find her Charge, but instead she had found something quite different. All the same, it was important. For now, her Search would wait. For now, she had her charge.
~
“Slow down, Chess!” Glynwen barked, increasing her pace to keep up with the tumbling, haphazard gallop of the two imperial hatchlings. “Seranida, don’t touch that!” She loped along, casting her eyes upward helplessly with a huff. In her wildest dreams, she wouldn’t have imagined that two small dragons could possibly cause her this much trouble. They kept her constantly on her toes with their wild antics, sticking their noses into absolutely everything.
The two sisters careened ahead, advancing quite quickly until Seranida decided it was the best time to start a play fight. She lunged at Chess, bowling her over and pouncing quickly to take the upper claw in the match. “Windsinger’s spines, you two!” Glynwen called after them, quite exasperated. The hatchlings ignored her, their long bodies interlocked as they bit at one another with harmlessly small teeth. She caught up with them easily but was quickly confronted with the problem of separating the two. Now how was she supposed to accomplish that?
An odd chuffing noise behind her interrupted her thoughts. She turned to look, noticing a male skydancer standing a short distance away. He had a satchel strung across his back, leading her to believe he was a traveller. She stared at him quizzically for several moments before realizing that he was
laughing. Presumably at her. Glynwen uttered a low, indignant growl in the interloper’s general direction before turning her eyes back to her seemingly impossible task. She strove to ignore the hysterical peals of laughter behind her, gritting her teeth.
After several more moments of fruitless effort in splitting up the squabbling pair, the stranger seemed to swallow his giggling for long enough to speak. “Hello, little ones! Would you like to see something fascinating?” This caught the youngsters’ attention immediately, and they snapped their heads to attention. He beckoned them over, gesturing to something in the long grass. They bounded over, nearly tripping over one another in their eagerness to find out what the object in question was.
Glynwen followed very closely, eyeing the stranger to see if he had any ulterior motive. However, it became quite apparent that he didn’t. He pointed out a large, stripped beetle that was slowly crawling through the grass. “See, isn’t that interesting?” The sisters nodded vehemently, peering intensely at the insect.
She took the brief pause in the squabbling of the sisters to ask him for his name. “Tobin,” he responded congenially, dipping his head. “At your service. And may I ask yours?”
“Glynwen,” she replied easily. They both watched the hatchlings for a few minutes as Chess poked the beetle with one paw. It looked quite disgruntled, but did not react otherwise. “How did you learn to do that?” She asked finally.
“What? How to stop them from fighting?” Glynwen nodded. “I grew up in a clan with a lot of hatchlings. They’re curious little ones. You just need to know how to capture their attention!”
“You seem to have quite a way with them.” Glynwen admitted thoughtfully, casting her eyes from the playful hatchlings to the colorful skydancer. “. . . How would you like to accompany us?” She asked, watching him closely.
“I would be honored, my lady.” Tobin dipped his head low with a smile that quickly became a laugh as Seranida took the opportunity to stuff the beetle into her mouth.
“Sera!” Chess protested loudly, her brows furrowing. “I wasn’t done looking!”
“We’d best be off, then!” Tobin told them quickly. “Perhaps we’ll find another one!” He added in a cheerful tone for Chess’s benefit. This seemed to please the sisters immensely, and they set off at a much slower pace, scouring the ground. Glynwen cast him an appreciative gaze as the group set out again, this time with one more member than before.
@
BabyBumbleBee, however much you feel like. I’m not picky, truth be told, haha.
For BabyBumbleBee, I wrote:
It was already dusk by the time Faillon stalked back into the clan, a brace of rabbits hanging from his mouth and a much larger elk slung across his back. It had been a fairly long day of hunting, but it had been a productive one. He was a skilled hunter, tasked with bringing in the necessary meat for the clan’s hoards. His piercing ruby eyes swept over his clanmates, prompting them to move out of his way as swiftly as possible. One pearlcatcher even ended up crowhopping sideways in his effort to move.
It wasn’t that Faillon was an ornery dragon, not by a long stretch. But the fact remained that his looks were fairly imposing. With a deep, blood red body and eyes that glittered like shards of glass, Faillon often appeared as if he were out for a hunt no matter what he happened to be doing. It kept many dragons from getting too close to him, much to their own misfortune.
He deposited the kills as quickly as he could, leaving them to be prepared and distributed by the dragons who guarded it. The very moment he was done, he trotted back to the den he shared with his mate. His gait was much lighter than before, not only because the several hundred kilogram elk was no longer on his back. When he stepped into the warm comfort of his home and saw her, he broke into a joyous, adoring grin. “Welcome home, sweetie.” Delta greeted warmly from her resting place, her mouth curving into a happy smile.
He scampered over to her, kissing her cheek and burying his muzzle in her feathers. “Long day?” She asked, and he responded by burrowing his nose deeper down. Delta giggled in response, setting aside the papers and holding up one of her forelegs as an invitation for him to come closer. He climbed up onto the warm nest of pelts gleefully, curling up against her
His breathing slowing until it matched her deep, even exhales. She lowered her head to affectionately preen the feathers of his crest, and in response, he reached out with his forepaws, pulling her closer. She laughed lightly, smiling as he closed his eyes. He sighed happily under her gentle touches, holding onto her and snuggling down. The fact was that, under his down to earth, stern exterior, there was a warm heart that loved nothing more than the quiet evenings spent with his mate. Satisfied with the state of his feathers, she laid her head down beside his. They remained in their close, entangling embrace until the morning came.
@SkyLarK
These are stunning, and I'd love the be blessed by your writing skills if you're interested in this girl:
[url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=19164837]
[img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/191649/19164837_350.png[/img]
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She's a particularly little fae who grew up hard in the southern ice fields, mostly spending her upbringing alone. She eventually met an exiled ridgeback, and the two of them formed a sort of unspoken bond, and stuck together, despite not even know eachother's names.
In the future, the two start a clan, and the ridgeback continues to look after her when her wings and frills are so damaged she can't fly, or communicate properly anymore.
@
SkyLarK
These are stunning, and I'd love the be blessed by your writing skills if you're interested in this girl:
She's a particularly little fae who grew up hard in the southern ice fields, mostly spending her upbringing alone. She eventually met an exiled ridgeback, and the two of them formed a sort of unspoken bond, and stuck together, despite not even know eachother's names.
In the future, the two start a clan, and the ridgeback continues to look after her when her wings and frills are so damaged she can't fly, or communicate properly anymore.
@
SkyLark
The stories are so absolutely great and I can't speak for the others but mine are Perfect! I am also amazed you did it in so short a time frame. Thank you so much for tackling the other story as well. All my dragons are doing wild happy circles over this. :)
@
SkyLark
The stories are so absolutely great and I can't speak for the others but mine are Perfect! I am also amazed you did it in so short a time frame. Thank you so much for tackling the other story as well. All my dragons are doing wild happy circles over this. :)
@
SkyLarK It's a rather huge request, i would want a short bio for all of my page 1. I can give you these items if you decide to try writing those bio's.
-1 Livewire Grizzly (around 15k in the AH
-1 Accent: Quartzen (around 70k in the AH)
-1 Dusk Rogue Cape (around 60k in the AH)
-21 gems
-Skin: Heartred Croaker (around 14kt in the AH)
-1 GenOne from my lair (you decide which one you want)
If you agree to this offer, i'll send you a pm with the details of every dragon!
@
SkyLarK It's a rather huge request, i would want a short bio for all of my page 1. I can give you these items if you decide to try writing those bio's.
-1 Livewire Grizzly (around 15k in the AH
-1 Accent: Quartzen (around 70k in the AH)
-1 Dusk Rogue Cape (around 60k in the AH)
-21 gems
-Skin: Heartred Croaker (around 14kt in the AH)
-1 GenOne from my lair (you decide which one you want)
If you agree to this offer, i'll send you a pm with the details of every dragon!