Zigzoodle

"Yeah this, this, this is what I'm talking about. This is where it's at. Everyone is going to be wearing one of these. It's, it's a, I'll see you in a few years when you catch up with my style."

June 6, Year 19

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Wormix's eldest child (by a few seconds) was coated in electrum. Although Zigzoodle has since added more tasteful(?) highlights to his scales, he leaves the flaking alloy on for sentimental reasons.

Unlike his brother Glitterguts, but quite like his sister Fingers, Zigzoodle could never keep his attention in the classroom. And though proud to be part of Plague flight, he'd prefer if its territory was, like… a jungle. With more people to hang out with. Anything but this empty wasteland. When's the next holiday?

He's developed a number of interests shared by nobody else he knows, such as fashion. And architecture! But how could anyone not be inspired, growing up in such a singular structure as the Ship? Now that he's grown, Zigzoodle has come to appreciate what a disorganized death trap his beloved home is. In, like, a loving way. Every lurching step the Ship takes leaves cracks in its fragile clay and amber walls. Tendrils of tree meat worm through the cracks and eventually split the wall in half, at which point someone (usually Dad) builds a new, awkwardly-shaped chunk of wall on top of the old. It's impossible to trace the original owner or purpose of the tangled enchantments animating the building! The hoard can't be organized because everything just falls off the shelves when the floor heaves! I think Glitterguts just memorizes everything that's in there? And the whole thing ascends into flailing spiraling branches held together by nothing but the condensed magic of the endless wall writing and a dose of bloody will to survive.

The lair (along with whatever Plaguey magics power Bloodsore) has allowed its dragons to live more sheltered lives than most… by way of being so incredibly dangerous that nothing in the outside world wants to mess with it. Zigzoodle has taken on the nigh-impossible task of grokking its kludgey workings and improving them. Straightening them out. Making plans for disaster. And he's eager to involve as many friends in the task as he can. He's the dragon to ask about lair expansions, organizational systems… and alchemy! Because Glitterguts doesn't understand his job. So he badgered him into doing another.