Astraed

Never be alone.

Astraed had this advice impressed upon her from the very beginning of her days, repeated by her adoptive parents over and over again ever since they plucked the abandoned hatchling off an ice floe. Never be alone. Always have a clanmate nearby.

Astraed obeyed, even if she didn't entirely understand her parents' concern. As far as she could tell, no other dragons in the clan had to follow this rule. Once, she asked her mother to explain.

"Astraed," Fabrial started. Astraed could tell the question worried her mother, by the way she tensed and her coils flew in almost straight lines. "Do you remember the time we left you by yourself in our cave, when we first found you?"

Astraed considered. Of course her earliest memories were foggy; hatchlings fresh from the egg weren't capable of much more than begging for food. Still, she thought she remembered a plushie - green, and soft, uttering something that stirred a deep need to move, go play a game, yet was soothing at the same time. She shudders - now, thinking back on the memory, the whisper no longer felt soothing. It gave her goosebumps instead. She thought she'd tried to leave the cave, but she remembers for a certainty the whisper suddenly stopped, and she no longer knew where to go.

Astraed described her memory as best she could, and Fabrial nodded. "There is a curse on you, Astraed," she said. "It wants to call you away. It nearly did, that time. It's dormant now, and your father is doing his best to remove it, but you're not safe alone."

Astraed wasn't sure she believed it. The toy had long been burned; the whispers long silent. She was a grown dragon now; surely whatever had happened to her as a hatchling was long past by now?

Astraed finds herself alone. When had that happened? She'd simply stopped to look at some pretty red flowers, their hue a perfect match for her scales. Most of the clan had been close by. Leitis the herb witch had even been watching her, she was sure. And yet, no one had called her when she followed the flowers, picking them. No one had stopped her. No one had followed her.

Astraed closes her eyes, breathes in deeply. For the first time in a long while, there are no eyes on her. It's exhilarating. Liberating. She feels free.

Astraed.

Astraed. Astraed.

Astraed. Astraed. Astraed, the flowers seem to be calling to her. In this moment, the so-called curse seems utterly silly. Just an overprotective mother's excuse to hover. What's the harm in exploring alone to look at some flowers?

Astraed wanders deeper into the Starwood Strand, plucking the bright red flowers as she goes. Their scent hangs thick over everything. They smell intoxicating. They smell of freedom and good things to come.

--

First arena game: placed 5th, generally worked with other tributes, tracked down and murdered Bamboo (a treesnekling) right after he helped her pick out thorns from her hide, then ate toxic berries and died

Second arena game: placed 5th again, 3 kills