Corona

Red slashed across green forest floor, a young nocturne's wings bear colors below desirable in his flight, but not as deplorable as his body itself. Red scales on feet and tail and torso, inescapable, half his clutch sent away to serve gods he did not understand. Sent away himself, not to serve but to find somewhere else where he will not be chased off again. In the Glades, this is hard for a red child. Not knowing the dangers of leaving his ancestral home, he wandered west into the badlands.

White flashed across the ground he would've blended in with if not fore his jaded wings. Pinned under the weight of an adolescent tundra thrice his height and nearly his weight octupled. Her claws pressed against his side in warning, green eyes set upon him but ears flicking about, listening for the rest of a hunting pack. Two crystaline guardians, ever the more bigger than Corona, trotted toward them, red and blue bookends with prey in their maws. The white one receded, and Corona could do nothing but let them guide him to their den.

Corona found a haven in the red dust and pockets of rot. He learned of Aura's tale, her own departure from their once-shared home. Together they brought forth five eggs in one clutch, the first of such blessings to their new clan.