Dusk

HATCHLING LORE:

In the Ruins, there is a stark contrast to night and day, bright and dark, light and shadow. Those partial to the shadows took to the Hewn City, and even some of the most dedicated followers of the Lightweaver called the outskirts of the terrifying areas of the Ruins their home, finding solace in the gentle embrace of the darkness. And others, like many of Dusk's clan, prefer to stay three times their wingspan away from the City. They concern themselves with matters of sun, choosing to settle into the worn and familiar surfaces of the Terrance or Promenade. And from what any blithe outsider could see, this balance is what helps keep the Ruins regulated- everyone knows their place, and everyone is happy as such. True, there is the occasional venturing out into each other's territories for visits and ceremonies. But mostly, they are content living their own separate lives, in their own separate ways.

But not Dusk. Dusk is special. A Snapper- and as such, a wanderer- she cannot help but feel a pull to both homes. As she spends her time outside under the sun, plodding along at her own pace, collecting information about every speck of grass and every individual feather located in the Ruins, she can't help but stop when she nears the edge of the Hewn City. She stares into the thick darkness, the darkness that hangs over it like a curtain of mystery, of invitation. She feels, everytime, the same pull she always has. Ragtag would remark that it's the mulberry and shadow parts of her talking when she feels this way. Maybe she's right. But Dusk knows it's more than that. As stated, she is a Snapper. Snappers are travelers, nomadic collectors who learn by living.

And to walk away from such a large expanse of hidden knowledge, to an environment just aching to be explored . . . it's like a knife through her tiny hatchling heart. Everytime she walks away from the darkness, she feels its pull even more than before. But the fear of what could be on the other side is too great. The fear of what the other's might say is even greater. Though brave, though her Snapper spirit is strong, she is still just a hatchling. And fear is still so new, so fresh, a monster she dare not try to slay.

Time passes and the Hewn City still calls out to her. She tries to occupy herself by attempting to learn everything else about the Ruins. Her mind grows full with complex knowledge barely anyone other than the Lightweaver herself knows. And yet-- the darkness still calls out. She struggles with its siren song, learning what she can by the dragons who visit her clan every now and then, reading their scrolls and tablets, talking long and low about their daily life. And yet the more she learns, the more she aches to see for herself what the Hewn City is like. But she rejects all invitations from the older dragons, who offer to guide the curious hatchling. The fear is still there, and it's so real, it could eat her alive, even more than the hurt she felt every time she looked at the Hewn City and turned away.

That hatchling goes on with her childhood, doing what she can. And she is enjoying her life, do not mistake that. She's happy to be in the sun, with her clan, playing with Indica and helping Azmych with her catalogs. But still, her Snapper instinct continually whispers to take her first steps into the Hewn City, to know what it's like to be in the dark all day.

Dusk doesn't know when she decides, but as she snuggles into Father Tantus, heaving a heavy yawn, she murmurs how, before she leaves the Ruins, she will walk into the City. As the hatchling falls asleep, Tantus pats her head and nods. "I think that is an excellent idea," he whispers before putting her to bed for the night.
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