---

Sunspot Clouddancer Hide Organics Removing this pelt in one piece is a challenge for any dragon. 46 Sparrow Skull Organics It smells as if it was soaked in... rum? 15 Wildwood Moss Organics Some moss took a lichen to a tree. (Special thanks meenahray.) 22

The eldest son of a large brood, he burned fast and hard out of his nest and childhood both, never looking back. He was often the odd one out as a child, his different breed and subsequent smaller size making him an easy target for his siblings, accidental or not. Often, his pearl was "borrowed" by his siblings as a child, a most distressing thing, making him even more protective of it than the average Pearlcatcher. But in many ways the harsh treatment from his Ridgeback siblings and Lightning-raised father forced him to adapt and leave many elements of his heritage and interests, as passed on by his mother, behind. Fighting became a key point of both pride and survival; he burned with jealousy over his inherent mage status, pushing time and time again to attempt to match and compete with his siblings and their cutting attacks. As time went, this left him with many scars, giving him an appearance that left many wary of him, even as he was overshadowed by his more obviously dangerous siblings.

Beautiful Gander Apparel A fantastic pair of eyes. 2400 Flamecaller Terracotta Figure Trinkets A clay likeness of the Flamecaller that was fired in the Great Furnace. It still maintains a smolder. 105 Paper Pearlcatcher Masque Apparel A somewhat crude, yet delightful paper masque depicting the head of a pearlcatcher dragon. 3000

His father was a brutal instructor and passed on his own torments and mentality from his origins in the Shifting Expanse onto his children, born in the Ashfall Waste though they were. His mother was too kind on his father, even as she was pushed aside after a time, when her children proved to not be powerful enough for his twisted expectations. In time Galahad learned stealth, becoming proficient in tracking and hunting, learning to conceal his golden body amongst the magma of his home until none could see him coming if he didn't want them to.

And Galahad created a plan, a plan to be seen for the first time as more than a joke or a tool as he trained with his siblings under his father. He had found no love or support with them, but if he could find respect, then that was just as well. He was determined to get his father's approval, no matter what he had to do.

He set it into motion one day, during a scrimmage his siblings were performing under their father's supervision. One he wasn't a part of. He crouched behind an outcropping of rock on the side of the training field, watching for an opening. After an hour or so hidden just out of sight, the moment came, and he made his move. He leapt over the boulder and buffeted down to where his siblings were fighting, landing on his sister and digging his claws in. She let out a roar of surprise that quickly turned to rage and the real fight began.

He and his siblings fought hard a long, drawing blood and cries of pain and rage from each other until the tides started to turn and Galahad began to win. That was when, at last, their father intervened.

"And WHAT is the meaning of this?!" he roared and all at once Galahad began to really understand. As his father went on, berating him for interrupting, he realized that he'd never be good enough for him. Never fast enough, never big enough, never capable enough. He was a failure in his father's eyes and there was no moving up from that, no matter what he did.

That night, wounds still bleeding into his bandages, he left. His mother helped him pack and watched as he flew off into the dead of night. It was the last time he ever saw her.

He flew for hours, saw Moonset and Sunrise both, until his wings gave out somewhere over the Southern Icefield. The fall was like being released into a deep slumber and darkness met him before he even hit the ground.

He woke at the bottom of a gorge, covered in dirt and drying blood, sore and tired despite clearly sleeping for a long time. He dragged himself up and set off towards the faint smell of a fire.

His nose led him to the Arctic Sun clan and their safe, warm fire, where he requested shelter. To his surprise and relief it was granted, and he was given food and and a place to sleep and new bandages for his wounds.

He tried his best to stay out of other dragons' ways while part of the clan, but never went too far. The only one he talked to often was a dragon named Blade, which sparked rumors they were related. It wasn't true at all, it was really just that Blade's steady voice and his ability to make certain that Galahad never felt useless nor indebted any more than he already was made him feel...calm. He still didn't eat with the clan, preferring to hunt for himself and learning to make clothing from the bones.

He soon became the clan's primary hunter and learned to be charming and even a bit social. He also grew into his adult size finally, leaving behind his gangly limbs with time. He became fond of many of the clans younger members and could sometimes be found giving gentle training tips, careful try and stay as far away from his father's methods as possible.

He couldn't let go of all of his father's teachings, however, still dealing with the crushing weight of self-hatred for his mage status. Frustrated and angry, he began to study blood magic using the rare books that he could trade from other clans. He knew it made the other's uncomfortable, but it also kept them from coming too close, so he decided it was a livable loss.

Eventually though, the books ran out, and so did his good grace within the clan, and he knew it was time to go. He thanked Blade for his help, packed his things, and once again disappeared into the night.


Weeks of travel led the borders between the Scarred Wasteland and the Tangled Wood, when he met and joined the Voiceless Reverence, where life was much the same. He kept to himself, made few friends, and hunted for himself and for the clan as needed. Rumors followed him, dark ones, but no one asked and so he never answered.

It was here he completed his quest and was able to use the blood magic he'd learnt to rid himself of his inherent mage powers, something that he was almost disappointed to find didn't make him as happy as he had always thought it would, and so the blood magic was put away for good and the loneliness continued.

Eventually, much of the clan was sent to serve the Plaguebringer and represent the clan in the masquerade against Light, and so he once again struck out on his own in search of a new clan.


He traveled deep into the Abiding Boneyard and eventually found a small Plague clan there and, unlike before, was not quite as separated from the other members. There were simply too few for him to keep entirely to himself for long.

He eventually formed a friendship with a Skydancer called Aquamarine as she would insist on hunting with him, something that eventually turned to romance and then to hatchlings. He felt respected as one of the eldest of the clan and was bolstered by Aquamarine's support, something he put effort into returning in kind now that he had finally begun to heal.

He was finally at peace and learning to be better than his father and to be a true member of a clan.

When they moved to the Sunbeam Ruins years later, he went with them. This time, he knew where he belonged.

---

Old lore in drafts on tumblr duckieboots