Creative Corner

2177

December 06, 2015 21:55:11

I exalted my lair. All old appearences, biographies, and art is here.

Dragons:
Endon
Annwyl
Heart
Dawn
Sky
Star
Auriel
Lark
Flicker

Last edited on Jul 04, 2016 19:15:12 by Dalison

[center][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=1889506] [img]https://36.media.tumblr.com/3d2518545dddbe7c4cc715a89db5d124/tumblr_nyz4k9v8OE1uala5no6_400.png[/img][/url][/center] [color=black][font=Georgia][size=4]S. Heart[/size][/font] [indent][font=georgia][color=black][size=3][i]"The False Leader"[/size][/font][/indent][/i] [color=black][i] Her days are spent guarding secrets, and her nights forgetting them. Strangers love her, hatchlings fear her, and clanmates seem to disappear when she enters a room. If you catch a glimpse of her when she thinks she's alone, you can see her eyes flickering and her mouth moving, as if she's whispering to someone. She watched as the [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=44202]lea[/url][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=44203]ders[/url] crumbled and the clan scattered: her friends to the Windsinger; her [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?p=view&tab=dragon&id=0&did=972472]idol[/url] to the Icewarden; her [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=1460681]first love[/url] to the Shadows. Once, her eyes drifted to Lightweaver, but instead she grit her teeth, came home, packed up the remainder of everyone's things, and began to collect new, beautiful, strangers. They live comfortably in the clan she has rebuilt, but mutter complaints behind her back. She doesn't hear them. The vaults are more bountiful than they have ever been before. The dragons better dressed and more beautiful than the ones that have left. Everything is fine. No, everything is [i]good[/i]. And as long as [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=44203]Annwyl[/url] continues to trust her, she will never let this clan fall apart again. Heart smells cold. She smells like the white clarity between light autumn rainfalls. And underneath that crispness you can smell the shadow of some sort of harsh soap. Her fur is silk, her skin is velvet, her feathers are gilded, and all of it looks miserably brittle, as if she could shatter if you pressed a claw too hard against her. [/i] [indent][size=2] "Don't leave," Annwyl said to her one night. "I'll never forgive you if you force me to hand this clan to a stranger."[/size][/indent] [i] The clan has staggered back to its feet under her leadership. But she hasn't been able to recreate Endon's joy. She's tried - she's even close. Board games are stacked all over low shelves, and theres always a few lying on the table. The rolling of dice and the shuffling of cards are common sounds. In dusty cupboards, there are the old toys: Inflatable balls, foldable gliders, flying balloons, and gigantic kites, unusable in the tangled wood. She only curls up in her nest after the most tiring of days or the stormiest of nights. Usually, she will forego real sleep and flutter and climb upwards through the maze of tangled branches until she reaches the highest treetops, where she will take off her hat and glasses and tuck them securely into the folds of her scarf. Then she will find a breeze, lock her wings, and soar until morning with her eyes half-closed. [center] [img]http://i.imgur.com/U9htaCt.png[/img] [/center]

Dalison

2177

December 06, 2015 22:05:45

S. Heart

"The False Leader"

Her days are spent guarding secrets, and her nights forgetting them. Strangers love her, hatchlings fear her, and clanmates seem to disappear when she enters a room. If you catch a glimpse of her when she thinks she's alone, you can see her eyes flickering and her mouth moving, as if she's whispering to someone.

She watched as the lea ders crumbled and the clan scattered: her friends to the Windsinger; her idol to the Icewarden; her first love to the Shadows. Once, her eyes drifted to Lightweaver, but instead she grit her teeth, came home, packed up the remainder of everyone's things, and began to collect new, beautiful, strangers.

They live comfortably in the clan she has rebuilt, but mutter complaints behind her back. She doesn't hear them. The vaults are more bountiful than they have ever been before. The dragons better dressed and more beautiful than the ones that have left. Everything is fine. No, everything is good. And as long as Annwyl continues to trust her, she will never let this clan fall apart again.

Heart smells cold. She smells like the white clarity between light autumn rainfalls. And underneath that crispness you can smell the shadow of some sort of harsh soap. Her fur is silk, her skin is velvet, her feathers are gilded, and all of it looks miserably brittle, as if she could shatter if you pressed a claw too hard against her.

"Don't leave," Annwyl said to her one night. "I'll never forgive you if you force me to hand this clan to a stranger."

The clan has staggered back to its feet under her leadership. But she hasn't been able to recreate Endon's joy. She's tried - she's even close. Board games are stacked all over low shelves, and theres always a few lying on the table. The rolling of dice and the shuffling of cards are common sounds. In dusty cupboards, there are the old toys: Inflatable balls, foldable gliders, flying balloons, and gigantic kites, unusable in the tangled wood.

She only curls up in her nest after the most tiring of days or the stormiest of nights. Usually, she will forego real sleep and flutter and climb upwards through the maze of tangled branches until she reaches the highest treetops, where she will take off her hat and glasses and tuck them securely into the folds of her scarf. Then she will find a breeze, lock her wings, and soar until morning with her eyes half-closed.

Last edited on Nov 13, 2016 08:09:51 by Dalison

[center][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=44202] [img]https://41.media.tumblr.com/c7ad40d57b121deded2c985d4faf8aaa/tumblr_nyz4k9v8OE1uala5no4_400.png[/img][/url][/center] [color=black][font=Georgia][size=4]Endon[/size][/font] [indent][font=georgia][color=black][size=3][i]"The Old Leader"[/size][/font][/indent][/i] [color=black][i] [i] No one remembers the exact day he fell into silence, nor the words of his last trivial murmurs. When she takes the time to really try, [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=1889506]Heart[/url] thinks she can remember the sound of his voice, but only [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=44203]Annwyl[/url] can remember the sound of his laugh. The others that once knew him are gone. Now, the only way to read him is to watch the temper of his owl, but none of the new dragons bother. To them, he is no proper elder. He has no ancient knowledge, no sagely wisdom. His life is a mere existence. To him, they are all strangers in his home. If only they had seen him in his youth, when he was a glorious whimsical furball, brimming with playful love. He named his new family "Clan Furtooth." It embarrasses [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=1889506]Heart[/url] to this day, but she doesn't dare dispute his legacy. [/i] [center] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?p=lair&tab=userpage&id=49003][img]http://41.media.tumblr.com/6e792b17f6971f8e5155f6867e7e814a/tumblr_nrl1pn3U1t1tc8d43o1_400.png[/img][/url] by [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?p=view&tab=userpage&id=49003]KTwhy[/url] [img]https://41.media.tumblr.com/dc4c70915ddcb2407225cd8bfda40399/tumblr_nre6jbPxlb1uala5no2_r2_500.png[/img] [img]http://orig09.deviantart.net/ac3f/f/2015/277/0/6/zwolfoi_by_featherblot-d9bzd7q.png[/img] by [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?p=view&tab=userpage&id=91320]Fenhyste[/url] [/center]

Dalison

2177

December 06, 2015 22:05:50

Endon

"The Old Leader"

No one remembers the exact day he fell into silence, nor the words of his last trivial murmurs.

When she takes the time to really try, Heart thinks she can remember the sound of his voice, but only Annwyl can remember the sound of his laugh. The others that once knew him are gone. Now, the only way to read him is to watch the temper of his owl, but none of the new dragons bother. To them, he is no proper elder. He has no ancient knowledge, no sagely wisdom. His life is a mere existence. To him, they are all strangers in his home.

If only they had seen him in his youth, when he was a glorious whimsical furball, brimming with playful love. He named his new family "Clan Furtooth." It embarrasses Heart to this day, but she doesn't dare dispute his legacy.

by KTwhy

by Fenhyste

Last edited on Dec 06, 2015 22:30:30 by Dalison

[center][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=44203] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/443/44203_350.png[/img] [/url][/center] [color=black][font=Georgia][size=4]Annwyl[/size][/font] [indent][font=georgia][color=black][size=3][i]"The Absent Leader"[/size][/font][/indent][/i] [color=black][i] [i] The strongest one here in more ways than one, but you'd never be able to tell. She's gone before daybreak, and when she returns after twilight, she does little but lie beside [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?p=lair&id=11290&tab=dragon&did=44202]Endon[/url] with her head resting on his great mane. Probably trying to remember happier days. Sometimes, she and [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?p=lair&id=11290&tab=dragon&did=1889506]Heart[/url] will walk together. The contents of their conversations are unknown, but there is no affection between them. Only curt civility. And she never interferes, even when the others wish she would. [/i]

Dalison

2177

December 06, 2015 22:05:56

Annwyl

"The Absent Leader"

The strongest one here in more ways than one, but you'd never be able to tell. She's gone before daybreak, and when she returns after twilight, she does little but lie beside Endon with her head resting on his great mane. Probably trying to remember happier days.

Sometimes, she and Heart will walk together. The contents of their conversations are unknown, but there is no affection between them. Only curt civility.

And she never interferes, even when the others wish she would.

Last edited on Dec 06, 2015 22:31:01 by Dalison

[center][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=10804767] [img]https://36.media.tumblr.com/21ae2f8a625761caa70696405f6e32af/tumblr_nyz4k9v8OE1uala5no3_400.png[/img][/url][/center] [color=black][font=Georgia][size=4]Little Dawn[/size][/font] [indent][font=georgia][color=black][size=3][i]"The Princess Accountant"[/size][/font][/indent][/i] [color=black][i] [i] You expect the dragon peering at you between a mound of treasure and stack of account books to be wearing glasses, an old sweater, and an indignant frown. Not Dawn. In this brightly-lit and dreary place, she's the only one that might give you a real smile. [indent][size=2]"Hi. Hi Heart. Hi. What are you doing?" "Counting." "Ok. Can I help?" "It's pretty boring, Dawn." "When you're done, can you play?" "Yes, when I'm done." "Then I'll help! It'll be faster!"[/indent][/size] [i] If you ask her about the spellscroll, she'll tell simply tell you, "It's the most most valuable thing we have that doesn't clash with my wings. "And then she'll offer you an expensive gift, and playfully whisper in your ear, "It's fine, [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?p=lair&id=11290&tab=dragon&did=1889506]Heart[/url] doesn't have to know. The new ones all love her - all of them, even [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=13291511]Sky[/url]. Because they think she's fooled Heart. But she hasn't. She isn't trying to. She doesn't understand half the things Heart does, and she only knows a handful of her secrets, but when she crawls under her cerulean wings in the darkest of dark nights, there is no false pretense. Dawn smells of roses and peonies, stale and ground up and mixed with dust Since her arrival she has been quieter, more polite, but always willing to play, even if it means setting aside the account books Heart has entrusted to her. [indent][size=2]"Heart? Are you awake?" "Hmm?" "I know I'm getting kind of old for this but..." The skydancer didn't open her eyes, but she unfurls a long, shimmering wing. The young nocturne lets out a happy chirp and bounds forwards to bury herself under the cerulean feathers. [/indent][/size] [center] [img]http://pre06.deviantart.net/1b5f/th/pre/i/2015/278/7/0/shadowdawn_dalidawn_by_shadowclawfc-d9c1yof.png[/img] by [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?p=view&tab=userpage&id=52605]Shadow[/url] and [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?p=view&tab=userpage&id=148774]Shadow [/url] I love [/center] [/i] [/color]

Dalison

2177

December 06, 2015 22:06:01

Little Dawn

"The Princess Accountant"

You expect the dragon peering at you between a mound of treasure and stack of account books to be wearing glasses, an old sweater, and an indignant frown. Not Dawn. In this brightly-lit and dreary place, she's the only one that might give you a real smile.

"Hi. Hi Heart. Hi. What are you doing?"
"Counting."
"Ok. Can I help?"
"It's pretty boring, Dawn."
"When you're done, can you play?"
"Yes, when I'm done."
"Then I'll help! It'll be faster!"

If you ask her about the spellscroll, she'll tell simply tell you, "It's the most most valuable thing we have that doesn't clash with my wings. "And then she'll offer you an expensive gift, and playfully whisper in your ear, "It's fine, Heart doesn't have to know.

The new ones all love her - all of them, even Sky. Because they think she's fooled Heart. But she hasn't. She isn't trying to. She doesn't understand half the things Heart does, and she only knows a handful of her secrets, but when she crawls under her cerulean wings in the darkest of dark nights, there is no false pretense.

Dawn smells of roses and peonies, stale and ground up and mixed with dust

Since her arrival she has been quieter, more polite, but always willing to play, even if it means setting aside the account books Heart has entrusted to her.

"Heart? Are you awake?"
"Hmm?"
"I know I'm getting kind of old for this but..."
The skydancer didn't open her eyes, but she unfurls a long, shimmering wing. The young nocturne lets out a happy chirp and bounds forwards to bury herself under the cerulean feathers.

by Shadow and Shadow I love

Last edited on Nov 13, 2016 08:12:01 by Dalison

[center][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=14668144] [img]https://36.media.tumblr.com/a2a6a2cc85113a385533cfbabea43bce/tumblr_nyz4k9v8OE1uala5no2_400.png[/img][/url][/center] [color=black][font=Georgia][size=4]Auriel[/size][/font] [indent][font=georgia][color=black][size=3][i]"The Perceptive Poet"[/size][/font][/indent][/i] [color=black][i] [i] He was summoned here minutes after his birth; a child scryed before his birth and promised to the clan. Another pretty trinket for the collection. Don't feel sorry for him. It is true that this place has forced him to learn to be still, but behind his smiling eyes, he is still energetic. He hears the things that shuffle behind the walls, smells the things locked under the floors, and sees the truths buried inside words. He knows all the secrets of this clan, and [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=1889506]Heart[/url] has no idea. [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=13291511]Sky[/url] would try to destroy her with this knowledge, but Auriel does nothing. He writes cryptic poetry on perfect rectangles of parchment, folds them into flimsy airplanes, and shoots them into the stormclouds that gather over the Sea of a Thousand Currents, where they are swiftly obliterated. Or he'll carve magnificent abstract drawings onto old, fallen logs, split them into neat sections for firewood, and bring them inside where he'll burn them himself, lest the others hesitate. He's a heartbreaker, but more often than not, it's his own that bears the brunt of his abuse. [/i]

Dalison

2177

December 06, 2015 22:06:06

Auriel

"The Perceptive Poet"

He was summoned here minutes after his birth; a child scryed before his birth and promised to the clan. Another pretty trinket for the collection.

Don't feel sorry for him. It is true that this place has forced him to learn to be still, but behind his smiling eyes, he is still energetic. He hears the things that shuffle behind the walls, smells the things locked under the floors, and sees the truths buried inside words. He knows all the secrets of this clan, and Heart has no idea.

Sky would try to destroy her with this knowledge, but Auriel does nothing.

He writes cryptic poetry on perfect rectangles of parchment, folds them into flimsy airplanes, and shoots them into the stormclouds that gather over the Sea of a Thousand Currents, where they are swiftly obliterated. Or he'll carve magnificent abstract drawings onto old, fallen logs, split them into neat sections for firewood, and bring them inside where he'll burn them himself, lest the others hesitate.

He's a heartbreaker, but more often than not, it's his own that bears the brunt of his abuse.

Last edited on Dec 06, 2015 22:32:14 by Dalison

[center][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=13291511] [img]https://40.media.tumblr.com/d7f52a00ecf53d1d71be2b72a8160265/tumblr_nyz4k9v8OE1uala5no9_400.png[/img][/url][/center] [color=black][font=Georgia][size=4]Skydust[/size][/font] [indent][font=georgia][color=black][size=3][i]"The Arrogant Investigator"[/size][/font][/indent][/i] [color=black][i] [i] He'd get to eat more if he would deign to force dried flesh or wilting plants down his throat. Nobody says it out loud, but that's what everyone is thinking these days. Skydust is the only dragon here that will only accept one variety of sustenence. They used to offer to go gathering with him, south to the sea, or in their favourite murky ponds. "Not an official expedition," they would say slowly, to accodomate his hearing, "Just a stroll where we happen to find a few fish." Back then, he was still the newest pretty gem. Seafoam: everyone's favourite colour for a week. Now there are no more casual strolls. They rarely offer it, and when they do, he scoffs and waves them away with a dull, feathery, wing. Not a single quarrel has occurred within the walls of this lair, so there's no need to pretend to like any of them. Actually, he would really like to start one. A big, dramatic, fight - that's what would fill him up. But he doesn't want to be caught in the middle of it. So he investigates. He watches them all like a hawk, especially [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=1889506]Heart[/url]. He gets the sense that maybe, someone might dare to challenge her - if only he can find a reason for them to. [/i] [center] [img]http://i.imgur.com/rTmBMOM.png[/img] This is what everyone thinks of Skydust by [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?p=view&tab=userpage&id=67419]fallowtail[/url] [img]http://s4.postimg.org/65hspi98t/seafoam_coatl.png[/img] This is what Skydust thinks of himself by [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?p=view&tab=userpage&id=110704]CapnSan[/url] [img]http://i566.photobucket.com/albums/ss110/mercuryhydroxide1/smolbirb_Heartspell_zpshevd2bwh.png[/img] This is what Skydust thinks of [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=1889506]Heart[/url] by [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?p=view&tab=userpage&id=87440]Vanadium[/url] [/center]

Dalison

2177

December 06, 2015 22:06:11

Skydust

"The Arrogant Investigator"

He'd get to eat more if he would deign to force dried flesh or wilting plants down his throat. Nobody says it out loud, but that's what everyone is thinking these days. Skydust is the only dragon here that will only accept one variety of sustenence.

They used to offer to go gathering with him, south to the sea, or in their favourite murky ponds. "Not an official expedition," they would say slowly, to accodomate his hearing, "Just a stroll where we happen to find a few fish." Back then, he was still the newest pretty gem. Seafoam: everyone's favourite colour for a week.

Now there are no more casual strolls. They rarely offer it, and when they do, he scoffs and waves them away with a dull, feathery, wing. Not a single quarrel has occurred within the walls of this lair, so there's no need to pretend to like any of them. Actually, he would really like to start one. A big, dramatic, fight - that's what would fill him up. But he doesn't want to be caught in the middle of it.

So he investigates. He watches them all like a hawk, especially Heart. He gets the sense that maybe, someone might dare to challenge her - if only he can find a reason for them to.

This is what everyone thinks of Skydust
by fallowtail

This is what Skydust thinks of himself
by CapnSan

This is what Skydust thinks of Heart
by Vanadium

Last edited on Dec 09, 2015 16:56:30 by Dalison

[center][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=15576501] [img]https://36.media.tumblr.com/b473a6ba0e5a732861afc927be4b0da4/tumblr_nyz4k9v8OE1uala5no5_400.png[/img][/url][/center] [color=black][font=Georgia][size=4]Flicker[/size][/font] [indent][font=georgia][color=black][size=3][i][s]"The Spaghetti Noodle"[/s][/size][/font][/indent][/i] [color=black][i] "Spaghetti Noodle," [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=15160835]Lark[/url] grins. "I am not," Flicker insists. "I'm the third generation! It took them two generations to just [i]find[/i] me. I look like [i]fire[/i]. Like a flickering candle!" "Spaghetti Noodle," Lark scoffs. "Covered with delicious sauce. You even smell like spaghetti. Leftover spaghetti from months ago that smells acceptable, but you wouldn't risk tasting it." "Thanks," Flicker says.

Dalison

2177

December 06, 2015 22:06:16

Flicker

~~"The Spaghetti Noodle"~~

"Spaghetti Noodle," Lark grins.

"I am not," Flicker insists. "I'm the third generation! It took them two generations to just find me. I look like fire. Like a flickering candle!"

"Spaghetti Noodle," Lark scoffs. "Covered with delicious sauce. You even smell like spaghetti. Leftover spaghetti from months ago that smells acceptable, but you wouldn't risk tasting it."

"Thanks," Flicker says.

Last edited on Dec 09, 2015 16:58:23 by Dalison

[center][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=7999035] [img]https://41.media.tumblr.com/13ecdf918f08eaa6b6db56d8e94bdf62/tumblr_nyz4k9v8OE1uala5no8_400.png[/img][/url][/center] [color=black][font=Georgia][size=4]Star[/size][/font] [indent][font=georgia][color=black][size=3][i]"The Echo"[/size][/font][/indent][/i] [color=black][i] The imperial that gazes down at you seems to tower over everyone else only for a moment. Then you realise that her personality seems rather small and considerate. She keeps her neck low, so that you don't need to crane your neck backwards to make eye contact, and she speaks in a measured whisper. Despite these necessary habits, she seems perfectly at home in the glittering cavern. There's no clumsiness in the way she skitters around, as if her very muscles have memorised the outlines of the shelves and tables. To date, she has only had one conversation with the so-called [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=1889506]leader[/url]. It had been a pleasant chat during twilight. The skydancer had been the one to approach. Silver supposed that she had recognised the signs of a dragon looking for a new home. They had spoken amicably about their preference of small family groups, pastel colours, and little luxuries. It had cumulated in an invitation, and a hasty exchange of names. [indent][size=2]"Heart. Heartspell," the skydancer had said, shaking one of the imperial's fingers with both hands. "Silver," the imperial had replied. "Silver Star." The skydancer's hands froze, her expression flickered, but when she put down Silver's finger, she was smiling again. "Do you mind if we just call you Star?" "Star is fine," Silver replies. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Star. Welcome to the clan." [/indent][/size] [i]Since then, Heart has not so much as looked at her, but Star is finished being baffled. The other dragons are just as pleasant. "You remind her of an old friend that left the clan, another Silver," [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=10804767]Dawn[/url] tells her one day. "I asked her. I don't think she meant to invite you to join us when she went to talk to you that night, but you're here now." Dawn pauses to gaze at her. "She said that you even looked like the old Silver." Star has considered her words, but has decided that Heart will talk to her when she is ready. She allows Heart to avoid her - even aids her, stepping out of rooms when she enters them. If they speak, she is afraid that she will offer to leave, and Heart will thank her and say, "Yes, please go." Silver does not want to leave. She likes the elegant apparel, the lack of hatchlings, the docile demeanors of her clan-mates, and the springbok that has taken to shadowing her. She is comfortable here, and she will not allow someone else's ghost to interfere. [center] [img]http://orig08.deviantart.net/4046/f/2015/276/2/2/dalison_silverstar_l_by_xeehsl-d9br3a2.png[/img] by [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?p=view&tab=userpage&id=65637]WinterWind[/url]([url=http://xeehsl.deviantart.com/]dA[/url]) [/center]

Dalison

2177

December 06, 2015 22:06:20

Star

"The Echo"

The imperial that gazes down at you seems to tower over everyone else only for a moment. Then you realise that her personality seems rather small and considerate. She keeps her neck low, so that you don't need to crane your neck backwards to make eye contact, and she speaks in a measured whisper. Despite these necessary habits, she seems perfectly at home in the glittering cavern. There's no clumsiness in the way she skitters around, as if her very muscles have memorised the outlines of the shelves and tables.

To date, she has only had one conversation with the so-called leader. It had been a pleasant chat during twilight. The skydancer had been the one to approach. Silver supposed that she had recognised the signs of a dragon looking for a new home. They had spoken amicably about their preference of small family groups, pastel colours, and little luxuries. It had cumulated in an invitation, and a hasty exchange of names.

"Heart. Heartspell," the skydancer had said, shaking one of the imperial's fingers with both hands.
"Silver," the imperial had replied. "Silver Star."
The skydancer's hands froze, her expression flickered, but when she put down Silver's finger, she was smiling again. "Do you mind if we just call you Star?"
"Star is fine," Silver replies.
"Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Star. Welcome to the clan."

Since then, Heart has not so much as looked at her, but Star is finished being baffled. The other dragons are just as pleasant. "You remind her of an old friend that left the clan, another Silver," Dawn tells her one day. "I asked her. I don't think she meant to invite you to join us when she went to talk to you that night, but you're here now." Dawn pauses to gaze at her. "She said that you even looked like the old Silver."

Star has considered her words, but has decided that Heart will talk to her when she is ready. She allows Heart to avoid her - even aids her, stepping out of rooms when she enters them. If they speak, she is afraid that she will offer to leave, and Heart will thank her and say, "Yes, please go." Silver does not want to leave. She likes the elegant apparel, the lack of hatchlings, the docile demeanors of her clan-mates, and the springbok that has taken to shadowing her. She is comfortable here, and she will not allow someone else's ghost to interfere.

by WinterWind(dA)

Last edited on Dec 06, 2015 22:29:37 by Dalison

[i]You devious little revolutionary... It's all yours now. Is this what you wanted?[/i] [center][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=15160835] [img]https://40.media.tumblr.com/d6dc44f32239188578e453934682fa1c/tumblr_nyz4k9v8OE1uala5no7_400.png[/img][/url][/center] [color=black][font=Georgia][size=4]Little Lark[/size][/font] [indent][font=georgia][color=black][size=3][i]"The Young Warrior"[/size][/font][/indent][/i] [color=black] [i]She was raised by two fathers, and two mothers; all of them leaders, none related by blood, and from each, she learned. [indent][color=black][size=2]She liked him. He read them stories. He had a nice laugh.[/indent][/size] [i][color=black]From [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=1054558]Alpha Centauri[/url], she learned strength. Not the kind of strength she now harbours in her claws, but the kind that made whispers blossom into great commandments. They come to him, he speaks to them, and all is well. Always. [indent][size=2]The coatl hastily pushed her into a white skydancer's arms. Her shrill words still reverberated in Lark's memory. "She's what you want, isn't she Heart? Take her, then. We're leaving. I'd give my entire clutch if it meant I never have to lay eyes on you again.[/size][/indent] [i]From [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=44203]Annwyl[/url] she learned love and fear. She learned the warmth of her touch, the frosty ache of her cold shoulder, and the ferocity of her protection. The old mirror could obliterate beasts and stare down dragons larger than herself. When Lark asked, she was glad to show her to how to puff up her chest and bare her teeth. [indent][size=2]"You're sending me away? Why?" "Just for a short while. I'll come for you soon. You'll learn there." "So it's not for forever?" "No, dear, of course not. You're one of us. I'll come get you soon."[/size][/indent] [i]From [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=2996849]Poseidon[/url], she learned the grace of the little things. His voice has never needed to rise. He finds no arguments, makes no announcements, barks no orders. Even in the heat of a hunt, covered in dirt and blood and surrounded by foes, his words have the quality of being kind suggestions. He holds all the status that accompanies leadership, and seems to do less than half the work. [indent][size=2]"Welcome back. You've grown bigger," the white skydancer said, as Lark returned to the decorated caverns. "Thanks," she replied cheerily. "Did you enjoy your visit?" "Yeah. [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?p=lair&tab=userpage&id=55776]Clan Nightshade[/url] is great! They've got-" "Glad to hear it," Heart said, "I'd love to listen to all your stories, but perhaps another time." Both of them know another time will never happen. And was that a shadow of apprehension in her voice?[/indent][/size] [i]But [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=1889506]Heart[/url]? Lark has learned nothing from Heart. Heart does not seem to wield either strength or love or fear, and while she is soft, she doens't have the same touch Poseidon does. Her sparse commands are taken begrudgingly, if at all. Lark has glimpsed faint scars on her glossy feathers, but she shows no signs of battle-prowess. Strangers see the reverent wisdom in the way she carries herself, but this sparkling vision of her has melted away. Now, Lark sees frailty instead of grace in her slim figure, and resignation instead of dignity in her placid resilience. [center] [img]http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y104/Cunningfox/larkcircular_zpsuyko0olk.png[/img] by [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?p=lair&tab=userpage&id=139139]SummerStorm[/url]

Dalison