Lapis

Caelus thought he wanted to settle down and become a respectable shaman like his father. He met a lovely Wildclaw named Diona, hatched three offspring, and began spending his days in meditation with the nearby spirits. When his children left home to pursue their place in the world, Caelus longed to leave with them. A trench began to form around the large boulder he use to meditate upon from all his restless pacing.

Soon he started leaving the lair once a week for various reasons - gathering, trading, or checking on distant neighbors. The trips began to become more frequent until Diona said offhandedly one night. "Some days I wonder if you won't even return. You have your mother's restless spirit."

"Everything I've done has been to put as much distance between us as possible," he said quietly, shaken by the truth of her words. "I am no pirate."

"No, of course not; however, you do seek adventure. At least the rumors of you exploring ruins late at night seems to suggest that." She looked him in the eye. "Leave."

"But.."

"Don't misunderstand. We'll always have a special connection, but it isn't enough anymore. In order for you to find happiness, for us both to find happiness, leaving is your only option."

There was nothing for Caelus to argue about. He turned around and launched himself into the air, letting the wind carry him where it will.

Caelus met Kanna while exploring some ruins. Something about her reminded him of Diona, so he kept his distance. Kanna had other ideas.

Kanna found Caelus investigating the ruins near her camp and decided to investigate him. It was several days before he finally noticed.

"Can I help you with something?" Caelus asked.

"Actually I was going to ask you that, seeing as how you haven't moved much from that spot in the past few days, Caelus." Kanna dropped his name to try and unnerve him. If he was a looter, it'd be hard to chase a guy of his size off without some sort of advantage.

"You were watching me practice calligraphy."

"And you're not as dense as most looters who come snooping about these ruins." Kanna retorted, trying to decide if she had a chance at fighting him.

"There's been some misunderstanding, I'm not here for baubles, I'm sketching this image of the Lightweaver shown here so I can study it later." He held out a parchment.

Kanna took the parchment and took a step away before looking at it. "Amazing, all the detail is perfect." She handed it back. "Could I see more?"

Caelus looked pained, but handed her a scroll case.

"If you don't want me to look at them, then I won't" Kanna was surprised at how quick his expression changed.

"Sorry, you just reminded me of someone."

Kanna looked through the sketches of amazing statues and ruins before handing them back. "I never knew there were so many amazing places I haven't seen yet! Where are you headed next?"

"Wherever the wind takes me. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to prepare for my departure tomorrow." Caelus left in the direction of his camp.

"Wherever the wind takes you, huh?" Kanna asked his retreating form, "that sound pretty good actually." She headed back to her camp to make travel preparations of her own.

Half past one in the morning, and the cool April night still had a ways to go before it’d relinquish its hold on the world to the dawn. Four hours and fourty-five minutes remained until the sun made an appearance in the sky. Four hours and forty-four, now. At least, by one dragon’s calculations.

A Skydancer the color of water sat like a glass figurine in a gentle woodland scene, with a quiet shift of trees before him, and the remains of a faded civilization at his back. He had stood guard over the site of his mate’s archeological dig for thirty-one hours and fifteen minutes so far, only pausing for a short nap at the twenty-eighth hour because Sinfonia’s small voice (“You need to rest, I’ll be alright…”) was one of the few things in the world he couldn’t resist.

Sleep was not a necessity if he had something to occupy his mind, and hunger (or even thirst) could likewise be ignored as easily as an annoying fly. In short, the needs of the body could always wait, if a mind was honed well enough to hush its complaints. But the heart could never be quieted. That’s why he sat in this wilderness in the first place.

He knew his mate couldn’t expect terracotta jars and stone knives to roll themselves up to her doorstep, but her exploits to her site in the deeper parts of the Hewn City made his stomach clench in worry. A small Fae alone in an abandoned ruin for days at a time? No…the only way he could be assured of her safety, was to stay near to her side. And here, as he strained his hearing behind him, he could still make out the tiny brush of her wings and tail as she moved to a new place in the dirt, or occasionally clanked her lantern a little closer to make out what she’d found, and he felt at ease because she was safe…

His clan mates had told him before that he worried too much (and slept too little), yet he wouldn’t leave his post for the softest bed nor the sweetest dreams that the world had to offer. He cared too much for Sinfonia.

Others wondered how he stayed awake so long (or if he merely slept with his eyes wide open and hoped no predator would call his bluff), and in truth, there were several methods to his madness. One was having something to stay awake for. Speaking of for… It was four hours and thirty-eight minutes till sunrise, now. For the sharp and the patient, such as himself, counting time was a viable option. He counted the seconds between each of his breaths, tracked the minutes that owls spent calling to the night, and silently felt the hours that Sinfonia slept in her site’s small shelter, imagining her vulnerable form, and feeling just a little more alert, and just a little more protective, than usual.

And at the end of the venture, when the Fae pronounced it time to go home, and he could cease his mental stopwatch, he packed the minutes and hours away quietly in the back of his brain, never forgetting how many they were…so that he alone could look back and count every moment he was with the dragon he loved.

If any other living being were to know this, they wouldn’t have to ask how he stayed awake so long. They’d know it was because being with her gave him more strength than any amount of restful sleep. Was it because he was a Skydancer, he often wondered, that he took so much from how others felt? Or was it simply…

He trailed off his thought with a wide yawn, his stiff wings stretching with a chime of crystal. He’d nearly lost his count. Four hours and thirty-six minutes, was it? He must be getting soft.

His face still stony and unwavering in its judgmental watch on the wilderness, and his shadow eyes unblinking in the shroud of darkness around him, AquaTag continued his role as the sentinel of the site, long into the night…

Spellbound Tome Familiar Using deft wings to dart here and there, this magical book just won't let anyone read it. 1500

Sinfonia was gifted the Spellbound tome by her uncle just before his departure from the clan. Despite originally having no interest in excavating ruins, the tome's influence already has Sinfonia planning her first expedition.

- Youngest sister of Keira
- Niece of Kai
- basic changed to underbelly

At Wayfarer's Rest, mating and having children are considered two very different things. As a result, there are frequently hatchlings born to non-mated pairs who aren't particularly interested in raising the resulting children together, but this isn't considered a bad thing as the resident Nestkeeper takes perfect care of all hatchlings under her care, whether they have doting parents or not.

Val and his brother fell into a sort of middle ground. Their father was one of the dragons that come and go from the clan, but their mother had a respected role having taken over her father's position of Insect Catcher when he went on to serve the Windsinger. While Leafal wasn't the most cheerful of dragons, she was always wiling to put time aside for her children, especialy when they took an interest in her work as Val did.

The guardian adored chasing after insects and bugs as a hatchling, but as time passed his breed worked to his disadvantage. He still had sharp eyes and reflexes, but more often than not he was starting to crush his targets, which left them with no use short of eating them right then and there. It made him somewhat miserable as he continued to grow and greatly outweigh his mother and brother.

Luckily it was his great-great grandmother, Quartz, who stepped in and helped him find ways to redirect his activities.

Quartz, a sniper in the clan's assassin crew, had noticed his speed when roughhousing with some of his agemates and inquired why he wasn't training in battle. He shrugged it off as not being particularly interested in being a warrior or guard, but she countered with how it could just simply be fun as well. She couldn't talk him into practicing with the proper trainers, but she did take him on as a student in her spare time between duties. To his surprise, he did have fun applying the skills he'd started to learn from his mother to larger targets, whether it be hunting larger prey or participating in games of skill.

Raptor Effigy Trinkets A dilapidated effigy fashioned to resemble the Tatterwing Vulture. It is of Corven design. 47

Born with the wind beneath their wings, these hatchlings were raised to be swift and precise. Their father is a hunter who dares to prey on anything that lives, and their mother holds a respect for the dead and soon-to-die. As all things begin, so all things someday end. And sometimes, if the price is right, they end a little sooner than expected. - by zephira

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Gen: 3 Mate:

Father's Side: Aearion & Tariel Falcon

Mother's Side: Icewave & Asteria Requiem

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Kestrel lives for the hunt and when hunting merely for food no longer satisfied him, he began to take on bounties. Originally he was going to hunt alongside his brother Kite, but their first bounty caused Kite to dissolve their partnership. The target didn't need to be brought back alive, so Kestrel didn't think they should expend energy trying. Afterwards they parted ways and Kestrel won't admit it, but he sometimes flies over the windswept plateau in hopes to catch a glimpse of him.

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Nightmares of Kite's very first hunt torment him to this day. With only his brother Kestrel by his side, they tracked down their bounty target - an egg thief wanted dead or alive. Before he could ask his brother the plan, Kestrel folded his wings back into a dive and went right for the target. Kite landed in time to see Kestral spit out a large chunk of flesh. The thief clutched his throat, trying to cover the gaping wound that moved with each attempted breath. Kite helplessly watched the other dragon's agonized last breaths and vowed to never hunt again without a songstress partner to ease the pain of his prey.