Owl woke up abruptly. She had no idea what she'd dreamed of, but it was enough to shake her awake. The soft sound of footsteps surrounded her hearing, and she leaped up, pulling out her spear. "Come out intruder," she boomed. "Or risk getting killed." The spear glinted in the soft moonlight. She ran over to her jewelry and slid them on, relieved that they were still there.
Owl hissed frostbreath onto her spear. Ice crystals formed into neat spikes and elongated. Her eyes picked up glittering yellow scales. SandWing, she realized. Or at least she hoped it was. She snarled audibly, hoping to intimidate the intruder.
Owl woke up abruptly. She had no idea what she'd dreamed of, but it was enough to shake her awake. The soft sound of footsteps surrounded her hearing, and she leaped up, pulling out her spear. "Come out intruder," she boomed. "Or risk getting killed." The spear glinted in the soft moonlight. She ran over to her jewelry and slid them on, relieved that they were still there.
Owl hissed frostbreath onto her spear. Ice crystals formed into neat spikes and elongated. Her eyes picked up glittering yellow scales. SandWing, she realized. Or at least she hoped it was. She snarled audibly, hoping to intimidate the intruder.
Sundance snorted as she leaped into the nearest tree, hoping to cover her scales. She shaked the end of her barded tail, sounding the rattle showing she was ready to sting. Her size made her scaried of every dragon but she needed to be mean and ready to kill.
"Why should I Icewing, what are you going to do? You ice doesn't do much to fire."
Sundance snorted as she leaped into the nearest tree, hoping to cover her scales. She shaked the end of her barded tail, sounding the rattle showing she was ready to sting. Her size made her scaried of every dragon but she needed to be mean and ready to kill.
"Why should I Icewing, what are you going to do? You ice doesn't do much to fire."
That's what forgiveness sounds like, screaming and then silence.
As soon as the paints were liquid again, Brinicle started to paint. He first drew in a black Backround, spiky and jagged mountians showing. The NightWing kingdom. Then, in dark green and blue, almost black, he drew in NightWings-edged with red and bloodthirsty as ever, forms evil. Then, he painted his mother. She had been a beautiful light green, with deeper undertones and the kindest blue eyes he had ever seen. Yet in this picture, she was in pain, red pouring from a deep red smile across her throat, a tiny grey dragonet holding her talon as red stained his. A large NightWing with a crown huked next to them, bloody knife in hand and an arm extending to the dragonet.
It didn’t hurt anymore to show what had happened. At first, he couldn’t draw it without having to stop from a broken heart. Now, though, he was hardened and scarred, I afraid of his past. After taking at least thirty minutes to draw the rough image, he started cleaning his many wounds, wrapping the cuts and slashes in clean white bandages.
As soon as the paints were liquid again, Brinicle started to paint. He first drew in a black Backround, spiky and jagged mountians showing. The NightWing kingdom. Then, in dark green and blue, almost black, he drew in NightWings-edged with red and bloodthirsty as ever, forms evil. Then, he painted his mother. She had been a beautiful light green, with deeper undertones and the kindest blue eyes he had ever seen. Yet in this picture, she was in pain, red pouring from a deep red smile across her throat, a tiny grey dragonet holding her talon as red stained his. A large NightWing with a crown huked next to them, bloody knife in hand and an arm extending to the dragonet.
It didn’t hurt anymore to show what had happened. At first, he couldn’t draw it without having to stop from a broken heart. Now, though, he was hardened and scarred, I afraid of his past. After taking at least thirty minutes to draw the rough image, he started cleaning his many wounds, wrapping the cuts and slashes in clean white bandages.
| King | Under 18 | He/Him|
My hobby is bad things I love
"I'd watch your words, SandWing. Have you forgotten Queen Battlewinner's death, or should I help you remember?" She wanted to refrain from fighting for as long as possible. Who knew how much strength it took for her to take on a NightWing? "I don't intend on fighting now. You're in luck, I'm leaving once the sun rises." She glanced at the waning moon. It showed no signs of going down, not yet. "You can leave me alone, and we won't fight."
"I'd watch your words, SandWing. Have you forgotten Queen Battlewinner's death, or should I help you remember?" She wanted to refrain from fighting for as long as possible. Who knew how much strength it took for her to take on a NightWing? "I don't intend on fighting now. You're in luck, I'm leaving once the sun rises." She glanced at the waning moon. It showed no signs of going down, not yet. "You can leave me alone, and we won't fight."
"Ha, your leaving now to pay back my father, or have you forgot because they beat you too hard?"
By this time Sundance had jumped down on the groung in front of Owl, shaking her tail. She bared her teeth, revealing white fangs. She wanted to show how much damage could do, but she didn't want to do it. She wasn't the killing or dragging around prisoners type.
"Ha, your leaving now to pay back my father, or have you forgot because they beat you too hard?"
By this time Sundance had jumped down on the groung in front of Owl, shaking her tail. She bared her teeth, revealing white fangs. She wanted to show how much damage could do, but she didn't want to do it. She wasn't the killing or dragging around prisoners type.
That's what forgiveness sounds like, screaming and then silence.
After Brinicle had wrapped his wounds, he carefully washed his cloak in the snow outside. He knew it would do nothing about the bloodstains, but it would get off the dirt anyhow. Walking back inside, he cleaned up his paints carefully, closing the jars tightly. Washing the brush as well, he carefully donned his cloak and put the paints, bandages, and brushes in his bag. Pulling on the bag, he curled up to sleep, at any moment ready to leave.
After Brinicle had wrapped his wounds, he carefully washed his cloak in the snow outside. He knew it would do nothing about the bloodstains, but it would get off the dirt anyhow. Walking back inside, he cleaned up his paints carefully, closing the jars tightly. Washing the brush as well, he carefully donned his cloak and put the paints, bandages, and brushes in his bag. Pulling on the bag, he curled up to sleep, at any moment ready to leave.
| King | Under 18 | He/Him|
My hobby is bad things I love
Owl twitched her ear irritably. "I have no idea who your father is, let alone you. Why are you even annoying me with your presence right now? All I need to do is kill a dragon right now; is it too hard to ask for you to leave me alone?" She warily gazed at the barb, unwilling to become prey to the venom inside.
Owl twitched her ear irritably. "I have no idea who your father is, let alone you. Why are you even annoying me with your presence right now? All I need to do is kill a dragon right now; is it too hard to ask for you to leave me alone?" She warily gazed at the barb, unwilling to become prey to the venom inside.
"Brinicle, I know who you are. I don't know what you did, but I have to take you back so I get my pay."
She stalked closer leaving a leap away from a fight. She glanced to the spear then to the jewelry, her eyes glazed over with something when she saw it. She'd never had any before, her mother told her that she shined to bright for it but really it was just because of having no money.
"Brinicle, I know who you are. I don't know what you did, but I have to take you back so I get my pay."
She stalked closer leaving a leap away from a fight. She glanced to the spear then to the jewelry, her eyes glazed over with something when she saw it. She'd never had any before, her mother told her that she shined to bright for it but really it was just because of having no money.
That's what forgiveness sounds like, screaming and then silence.
Brinicle was curled comfortably on a mat as his thoughts began to wander. He now reflected on what had happened, and his mistakes.
He had walked into the Scorpian Den, intent on getting a cyan paint, when some tribe purists had attacked him, all SandWings-they hated hybrids, and most believed SandWings were better than any other tribe. He started to reflect on his mistakes. Brinicle shouldn’t have fought back then, rather, slip away. He had needed to slip away anyway, later on.
Brinicle was curled comfortably on a mat as his thoughts began to wander. He now reflected on what had happened, and his mistakes.
He had walked into the Scorpian Den, intent on getting a cyan paint, when some tribe purists had attacked him, all SandWings-they hated hybrids, and most believed SandWings were better than any other tribe. He started to reflect on his mistakes. Brinicle shouldn’t have fought back then, rather, slip away. He had needed to slip away anyway, later on.
| King | Under 18 | He/Him|
My hobby is bad things I love
Owl saw the wistful gaze on her jewelry. "Fine, how about this: I'm not Brinicle, I'm Owl. And, I'll give you this gold horn ring," she motioned to a ring she had pulled out of a little drawstring satchel, "if you leave me alone." Her tail braced on the spear, which was still frozen.
Owl saw the wistful gaze on her jewelry. "Fine, how about this: I'm not Brinicle, I'm Owl. And, I'll give you this gold horn ring," she motioned to a ring she had pulled out of a little drawstring satchel, "if you leave me alone." Her tail braced on the spear, which was still frozen.
