Shougoney » Lair » Aries

Aries

(#22728868)

Level 1 Guardian

Familiar

Dirge Fiddlefiend

Energy: 0/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

17.18 m

Wingspan

19.66 m

Weight

10983.64 kg

Genetics

Magenta
Giraffe

Thistle
Hex

Charcoal
Thylacine

Hatchday

Apr 10, 2016
(8 years)

Breed

Adult
Guardian

Eye Type

Arcane
Common

Level 1 Guardian

EXP: 0 / 245

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Offspring

Biography

They are too weak...

"There is nothing like the heat of blood, rushing through my veins, covering my skin."

"Stop that whispering and show yourself!"

HOLLOW

____________________________

Snow on their paws, snow on their fur, snow on their snouts, turning the air they were breathing both fresh and cold enough to stab their lungs.
They had been following the trails of Snowshoe Rabbits for a while now, but food was scarce, even more than usual. The winter was eternal, yet there were times when the ice grew even thicker, when even a soft breeze felt like blades under the fur- and this was such a time.
The wolf pack huddled together, only for a short while, to share the little warmth that was left in their bodies, to chase away the coldness from their bones.
Eventually, one of them gave a small whine, alerting the others: It was back. The moon was back.
Of course they all knew that this... thing was not the actual moon. It was too small, too close, too mysterious. And yet, it was mesmerizing, appearing here and there, never close enough to be caught and yet never far enough to make them loose track. It lead them, it guided them, they were sure of this. It was not the moon, but it was their moon. Their very own little shard of the universe.
The Alpha leader stood up first, and every single wolf followed his example. It was time to continue their journey, it was time to follow the shining sphere in front of their eyes. It was time to find out where it would lead them- and though they had no means to communicate their notions, inside of every wolf's head an idea had formed: The moon would show them a source of food, of warmth, of hope within these unforgiving lands of the Icewarden.

The carnage was bloody, savage. Satisfying.
Hollow's flank was bleeding badly, but out here in the cold, such a wound was unlikely to get infected- and even if, she was a survivor, some mangy bacterias wouldn't be able to bring her down!
As far as she could tell, all the other blood originated from her prey, not her own body. The pack was spread out right in front of her, ragged bodies, broken bones and steaming guts. Lunchtime.
With a triumphant hiss, she pushed her snout into one of the still warm carcasses, filling her way too empty stomach. She had killed more than she needed- a bad decision, since this meant that she would have to go for another long time without any food at all until she found the next pack- or other prey that was worth her efforts. But it wasn't her fault, was it? Once she had sunk her claws into the first wolf, her mind had gone blank and she had only been able to kill, kill kill, until there was nothing left to hunt down.
Her trap had worked again- by now, she almost got bored of it. Ever since she had started to use her Spirit's crystal ball to lure the wolf packs to her hiding place, no one had managed to escape her hunger and wrath. The challenge had been gone.
"Weak animals, not even able to put up a fight!"
["How about you look for someone worth a fight then?"]
A surprised snort escaped her throat as she looked around. The voice! She had heard it before, yet never this clearly. Who was it? She was alone, she had always been alone, as far as she remembered. She knew others like her existed, but she had never seen another dragon- she had never looked for one to begin with. This tundra seemed endless, and it was enough to fill her heart, there was no need for 'conspecifics'.
Once her belly was filled, she looked for the wolf that had been hurt the least during her ambush- one that had died of internal bleeding rather than visible wounds. Her current pelt was ruined, dirty and stained, she needed a new one to keep her body warm and to blend with the icy grounds beneath her.
There! A perfect choice. Pure, clean pelt. Her next cover.
["Don't you think it's time to travel on?"]
"I am travelling! Whoever you are, pay attention! I have been travelling all my life!"
["And still, you never managed to get one step further. How about you finally leave the solitude of the snow?"]
"Woozy voice! there is no place of no snow in this world!"
["If you only knew what you are missing."]
"You have talked enough!"
["No. I have only just begun."]
"Then tell me more!"
No reply.
Just when she was about to turn her back on the scene, her Spirit started to hover right in front of her eyes, the crystall ball all bright and shining, reflecting the snow. But only for a moment.
The next thing she saw was a world bare of any snow, of any ice. Hot grounds, dry earth.
And for the first time in her life, Hollow experienced the hypnosis of the crystal.

They experience her as an angry dragon, full of wicked energy, thirsty for fights, for blood, for hurting and getting hurt. Nasty, irascible, dangerous.
She had joined the Clan a long time ago, and yet she still seemed to be an outsider- not even able to speak their language correctly, as if she had been untouched by any civilization prior to her arrival. However, whenever she seemed to assume that she was alone, she would talk a lot in a strange tongue- to the eerie Spirit she had brought with her, to her crystal ball, to herself- and some dragons insisted on her even getting answers, though everyone should be aware that this was impossible.
Hollow turned into one of the most important hunters of the Clan, patiently tracking prey and killing it dead reliable. However, most dragons seem confused by her reluctance to get rid of the bright white furs she is wearing all the time- furs that would only make her hunting efforts harder, since they offered no camouflage at all in the wide Scarred Wastelands. They have tried to find out why she wouldn't finally get rid of them, but instead keep them clean with more effort than she showed to anything else, besides the hunts themselves. No one had gotten a satisfying response, but most dragons agree that whatever she tried to reply to such questions was the word 'Challenge'.

________________________________________

Too weak for me!

"'Hunger' doesn't always mean having an empty stomach."

"Solitude and Solace are two words for the same thing."

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