Daria

"Look into my eyes and try to say no to me."

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I.
The strike knocked her flat to the ground. She hissed in rage and struggled to rise, but her body refused to.
“Again.” The voice was cold and stony.
Daria’s muscles shuddered in protest. A lightly sulfuric rain was falling in the dusky valley, but all around was silence.
“Again. If you’re going to disobey me, you’re going to fight.”
“Don’t talk to me like a hatchling,” she hissed.
“Then get on your feet and prove you aren’t one.”
She shot up and whirled to face her enemy. It was a familiar one—the dark scales and lean lines she’d loved since childhood, since she realized she was the eldest and his favorite.
She clacked her jaw in rage and bared her teeth. “We can’t keep fighting!”
A look of surprise crossed his face, shock that she wasn’t submitting. “Daria—“
“No! Soon we’ll have more orphans than adults. Are you going to raise them? Of course not!”
Orcus flinched as if struck. “But—“
“No! I can’t just sit here while you send more and more of us into battle for no reason. No. Reason.” Her tail cracked like a whip.
“If you’re going to disobey me, then find a new clan.” His eyes dared her to disagree.
The words settled into her stomach like a heavy weight. Rubbing her sore jaw, she turned to go. “Forget this.”
“Daria—“
“You just told me to leave! Can’t I get a break?”
He enfolded her in his arms, and the tips of their wings met. Orcus shook a little, but he must have realized it, too. Wildclaws can be proud, arrogant, and stubborn. His daughter had the same fiery beliefs he did. And the continuation of the argument would mean death for one or both of them.
He clutched her tighter. “You’ll make a fine leader.”
“Yes. And I won’t even have to fight a war.”
She turned and strode away from the Wyrmwound, leaving a clan of injured, tired, doomed warriors behind. She didn’t look back.
II.
“What was it he always said?” she murmured to herself. She was in the craggy foothills of—somewhere. Somewhere arid and dry, where the ground was loose underfoot. The little rocky mounds were gradually turning into mountains; the air tasted like dirt, and the only vegetation was scrubby bushes and brush.
“The world looks different when you’re not angry,” she sighed. “Orcus was right about that.”
The tribe she’d left behind had been a bunch of nomadic warriors, so she knew how to find food. Deer and fowl were abundant.
But it was lonely. She hadn’t seen another dragon since she set out, and she knew her mind was starting to go strange.
For one, she was talking to herself.
“That didn’t take long,” she muttered, stumbling up another hill. Before she could go farther, she head a hissing noise.
She’d heard of Akirbeak nests mainly from legend—bigger than some clans. This one wasn’t quite there, but still impressive—a mountain of mud, sticks, and dirt.
The Akirbeak itself was looking down imperiously at an army of Spined Cobras. The snakes twisted and writhed hypnotically, painting hieroglyphs in the dust.
Could walk away, Daria thought, then heard Orcus say just like you walk away from all your problems. He probably never would have said that, but Daria stiffened anyway.
“Well, that settles that.”
She leapt in front of the nest, flapping her wings and snarling. The cobras recoiled. For a long moment, silence.
Then they struck—but cobras are no match for a dragon. She made quick work of them, thinking mainly of smoked cobra meat.
Afterwards, glancing over her shoulder, she expected the Akirbeak to be gone.
It wasn’t.
“Um…sorry about the mess.” Daria tied a few of the snakes together and flung the bundle over her back. “Hope you stay out of trouble.”
She was on her way again when she heard something behind her. The Akirbeak was slipping over the stones to keep up with her. That night, they dined on flame-roasted cobra.
“I like you,” Daria said between mouthfuls, beneath a sky brilliant with clear stars.
And she liked that talking to a familiar didn’t make her as crazy as talking to herself.
III.
“We’re getting close,” she said to the Akirbeak. The little thing was a trooper—Daria herself felt deeply fatigued.
Comfortable beds were a memory, clean water a long-lost luxury.
It was night, and the eerie ancient pillars of the Hewn City glistened on the horizon high on a hill. Before that was the plains she stood on. Directly ahead a dense, deep forest.
She smelled smoke, and that triggered some childhood response. Danger.
“Let’s go.” The two pressed on.
Suddenly, just as she reached the border of the forest, shadows darted past. She heard them laugh briefly before they vanished. They didn’t attack her, but clearly they were bent on fleeing something.
With a frown, she swept the Akirbeak closer to her. The confused voices shouting started soon afterward.
I’m here, she thought, heart beating fast.
A weary, confused clan was just ahead in a meadow, gathered around a wild-eyed warrior. He was a Wildclaw lighter in color than herself.
“We have to attack!” he was saying.
Daria’s heart abruptly rapped against the wall of her chest. No. Not again.
She ran forward as the clan dissolved into chaos and confusion. Before the warrior could respond, she struck him across the chest—the traditional challenge of her people.
When he didn’t rise, she knew she’d won.
Their eyes were on her now, silent.
The words came from deep within: ““There is no need to continue fighting. In fact, there is greater strength in peace. I come from a land torn by war, a clan decimated by it. And I want it to stop.”
The warrior was skulking away. She’d have to watch that one.
She turned away from him and addressed the rest of the dragons. “I can help you all rebuild—I’ve done it many times before. But more than that, you must build yourselves up on the inside…”
This had to be her clan.
IV.
“So what’s going on here?” she asked a nearby Coatl gruffly the next morning. All morning, as the sky brightened to blush, she’d help set up makeshift camps and cooking stations, sent detachments out to gather food, and formed a guard of dragons whose last resort was violence.
She liked the look of this Coatl girl—multi-colored, with wariness in her eyes and hatchlings all around her legs.
Something about this was going too easily, from the way everyone was doing her bidding, to the ease with which they found new materials and assisted the injured.
For a long time, the Coatl didn’t answer. She was busy rocking a Wildclaw with her wing.
Daria was about to repeat her question, but Paige suddenly smiled. “My father always said that Akirbeaks only follow those pure of heart.”
Daria looked at her familiar and saw it among the hatchlings. She felt a brief tug of homesickness.
“Are you alright?” Paige asked, cocking her head.
“I’m fine,” Daria said softly. “It’s just…”
She looked around at all the unfamiliar dragons scattered across the plains, following her orders.
“Go ahead.” Paige nodded. “We can talk. Take all the time you need.”




Personality

The clan knows Daria for her commandeering personality. The alpha-wolf of the pack, this Wildclaw is not one to accept a 'no'. Possessing all the confidence and ingenuity a leader must show, the rest of the clan was more than willing to allow her to take the helm of the then-chaotic clan. While Daria leads with an iron claw and an icy exterior, many know her for her wise decisions and good intent.

The first one to spur into action, should there be any conflict Daria will be the one at the front line, no matter the situation, be it a great battle or a hatchling dispute. Intuitive and insightful, Some deem Daria's abilities uncanny, while her clanmates just appreciate her talent.

Daria values Fidelity above all, and is fiercely loyal to all whom have earned her trust and protection.

Interest

Daria actually has a super sweet tooth and a soft spot for hatchlings. Anything from sugar cane to Paige's baked pastries to a cute little fae hatchling will have Daria cooing- to eat or to fawn over, respectively. While her own hatchlings have had the honor of joining another's clan, Daria treat all younglings as if they were her own, having a great motherly instinct.

A Red-Footed Akirbeak seems to be the perfect match for Daria. Taking in any abandoned eggs, they seem almost to work together. A semi-guardian to hatchlings, Familiar and Dragon share a very close bond, and are very alike in nature. Should one disturb the Akirbeak's nest, charred scales are likely to follow. Daria's is the very same- minus the fire.

Relations

Daria's closest friend is Paige, and she balances her out well. While one is almost too serious, the other is carefree and fun-loving. They are very close friends, and often confide in each other when personal problems arise- very much like sisters. They've known each other since they joined the clan.