Bloodrose

"Every rose has its thorns."

Grouchy, sharp tongued, and hot headed, this dragon traveled her home territory without fear. The young adult had left her clan on a whim, wanting nothing do to with her heritage while still only a hatchling. Instead, the near feral beast prowled the scrubland like the true predator she was, even if her chosen prey was insects.

When she entered the Misfit's territory, she paid the markers no mind, and strolled boldly all the way into the camp. She moved so surely, so confidently that only a few dragons found it odd. Perhaps they had never met her before, or she had been away, but the dragon didn't act out of place. That is, until the Matriarch returned from her hunt. She immediately recognized the dragon as foreign, sitting placid on the edge of the clearing, and approached with conviction. "Who are you." She hissed as a command.

But the Pearlcatcher was not intimidated. She continued to clean her claws, and as excess saliva dangled from her teeth she scooched her pearl closer to record the coming event. "A rogue." She said simply after a long, indignant pause. The Mirror stood firmly in front of her, tail lashing, but her savage eyes seemed please. "I like your style." She said with a disconcerting tone. Lifting one paw she flexed the claws before herself. "You may stay, but killing and maiming is forbidden." The Pearlcatcher scoffed at the fact fighting was not listed with those, but merely responded with, "Neat."

At that time, the clan was fairly small, but newcomers were arriving nearly on the daily. It was a rising clan after all, and the longer the Pearly stayed there the more she realized it was not the place for her to settle. Many of the dragons here were bright and colorful, with matching personalities, or the complete opposite- sullen, bitter, or dejected. Regardless, she saw opportunity in it; as an early member she could rise in rank and one day overthrow the place.

A simple plan, she thought, long term and entertaining for now, but things did not go as smoothly as she thought they would. The other dragons kept asking her to do things, inviting her to play games, hunt as a pack, and join them for all sort of events. She agreed to gain popularity, but kept herself emotionally distant. Gaining their favor without caring came naturally, yet it had an unexpected side effect she had never felt before. Isolation. Despite being surrounded by dragons and satisfied with just herself, she was.. lonely.

She left home too early and never learned how to have a proper conversation, and her social skills were lacking. The Pearlcatcher didn't have a name, so nicknames were abound. Pearly, Slash, Hunt/er, Miss, Red, Fox, Rose, Russet, Wolf, they were endless. While everyone had their own favorite to stick on her, as she really didn't care, they all felt very impersonal. There was a separation between her and other dragons, a distance she had formed but they perpetuated, and it was utterly aggravating.
The Pearlcatcher was down on herself, something oddly noticeable in a aggressive dragon, and a bunch of boys invited her to game night. It wasn't so much game night as a bar chat, but it was enough to get the dragon moving.

Unfortunately, while the night was fairly smooth over indulgence left the night blurry, and she awoke with a killer headache and a clutch of eggs after a one night stand. With who, she couldn't even remember. The dragon was more ****** than ever, and in that moment any plans she had with her faux personality went up in smoke. She went on strike, responding to no one other than a bitter hiss, and sought to live only for herself. Leaving the clan wasn't an option, she had wasted too much time and had become complacent. Instead she resigned herself to only being able to live isolated within a collective. It was miserable.

She wanted no part of her children, and at the soonest possible moment evicted them to the realms of the Stormchaser. She never even figured out who the father was, but it must have been a real dunce as her son was too stubborn to get the hint. He didn't want to leave, claiming this was his home and she had no right over his life when she hadn't even been a parent to him. Things got heated and the Pearlcatchers got in a spat. It was hardly a fight, with the mother winning over the pansy, but it wasn't worth her effort to fight the situation anymore. The male stayed, and she realized something. What was the point?

Even if she gained the power she was playing at, then what? Others would look to her, request of her, bother her. She would still be isolated, no more than a figure for others to gain from, a tool. It was then she realized she wanted nothing to do with other dragons. A solitary creature, she was, but not a hermit. She no longer cared about power, about presence, and would be true to herself with the reluctant realization this was where she wanted to stay. She would do as she pleased, and what she pleased, fearing no one. Acting nearly as savage as the matriarch the Pearlcatcher was finally free to be herself, and to her surprise things actually evened out. Her son left of his own volition after a girl, and though harsh others respected her from a distance. Even the Matriarch allowed her behavior as she was following those simple rules.

~ ~ ~

She would hunt alone, as despite her breed she loved the thrill of the hunt, and was hyper aware of the sensation of eyes upon her. She lept through the brush, landing neatly before a fragile Skydancer. The male held himself with a sickening regal sort of aire, and the Pearlcatcher growled bitterly at the stalker. "Go hunt elsewhere." She warned him, but the male was not listening. "Oh, but I'm not hunting. You are. I was just admiring your technique as its quite effective."

That was just the start. The Skydancer was the newest resident of the clan, very polite but too pompus and self important for her tastes. Yet he tailed her everywhere, an ever annoying presence that she would always sense. "Your form is fabulous." He would coo, scrawling notes down in a pocketbook. "Wherever did you learn such a style?" She was always aiming to perfect her self-taught savagery, but never had another dragon complimented her on it.

Overtime Flare's flattery seemed less insults and more genuine. He would clap, examine the kill and her efficiency. It was almost too nice. When she managed to peak inside his pocketbook she saw it was filled with notes on battle and hunting, effective moves and styles for her weight class. What? Had he done this before, with other dragons? She was no more than an object to study.. Feeling betrayed the female turned on him, pouncing on the smaller male and pinning him to the ground. Raising her claws she was prepared to break those 'simple rules' when the male spoke.

"Every rose may be admired from afar, but to enjoy one up close you must mind the thorns."

~ ~ ~

And, with that, the savage beast had been tamed. As cliche as she found it that 'love' had soothed her feral soul, Bloodrose finally found a since of peace. When she hunted, it was not for sating bloodlust. When she laughed, it was genuine and not a murderous cackle. Her social skills still left a lot to be desired, but with Flare's help the dragon was able to bond with her clanmates and feel the community she had been self-isolated from for so long.