SongBird

She was born into a wind clan, loving parents, loving home, even a loving brother she would run off and explore with. One day, while they were still young, they decided to play adventure. Her brother was a snapper, so he was a bit slower than the fast paced spiral, but she was more than happy to keep her pace with her brother. The both of them, were honestly very lovely looking dragons, looking like wind dipped in paint and brought to life. And sometimes, bad dragons want pretty things to help themselves. A small traveling warband, their leader notorious for stealing and kidnapping dragons with especially alluring looks, had come into the territory of the wind clan, currently unnoticed. Lucky for them, since none of the adults noticed when the younger dragons were being stalked. They suddenly grabbed her and her brother, their muzzles quickly grabbed and bound. SongBird saw the fear and tears in her brother's eyes...SongBird saw the scream for help behind them despite his silence. No one could hear them, no one would come to help them. But she'd be damned if she was gonna let her brother suffer. Spirals are hard to keep a hold on, they like to flail, they like to wiggle, and sometimes, they tend to whip back a certain razored tail tip a bit to fast and hard. She managed to nail their captor in the eye, hurting and startling them enough to drop them. Once they were free, she removed their muzzlings and yelled for her brother to run, run as fast as he ever could have, while she, as foolish as it was, stood between him and their kidnapper. She managed to hold him back long enough for her brother to get to far to bother. So they kept her. As she watched her brother escape, she accepted her fate.


Many of her fellow prisoners called her lucky. She instantly became the leader's favorite. She was even placed in their nicest cage. Beautiful, polished, silver; rather than black, grimy, rusted and stained. She was fed constantly, and the guard weren't allowed to beat or mistreat her like the others. She WAS to be a breeder, a female who's looks were to be passed down to hatchlings that'd fetch a pretty penny or gain favor with other clans, but the leader wanted only the best for her, and had yet to find a 'perfect match' for her. So, he used her for other reasons: Her voice. The moment she was tossed into that cage, her heart gained the powerful urge to sing, to sing out to the land she loved and long missed. She sung of it's beauty, it's freedom, and the joy it would bring to all who lived there. If she couldn't bring them treasure or favor with hatchlings, then she can do it with her voice. He'd bring her out while the traveling band camped, hiding their cruelty with the facade of them being nothing more than a rag tag group of traveling dragons who would 'help' less fortunate dragons. And SongBird helped cover up their lie better than they ever could have alone. After all, if she was unhappy, then why would she sing?

They kept this up for a while, well into her adulthood. She would sing, dragons would pay to hear it, and this terrible band prospered. They got more treasure, they hired more muscle, they kidnapped more and more dragons. She hated it. She felt like she was to blame. She would gaze out at every crowd as she sang, hoping, praying they would see the cry for help behind her eyes, but it all seemed for naught. She would be a prisoner forever. An unwilling accomplice to their evils. Nothing would change. Nothing until the day they camped in Nature.

Her voice rang out as usual, calling many dragons to them, wanting to see where it came from, wanting to see the beautiful dragon with the beautiful voice. Her eyes stayed cast to the sky as she sang, refusing to look at the crowd of fooled dragons that would only unknowingly help much cruelties. When she finished though, and she brought her gaze back down to return to her shackles, she saw a hooded dragon, an imperial, judging by the antlers and sheer size. Her plague red eyes locked with her soft, bright, wind green ones, and in that moment, the spiral felt a spark of hope return, for that moment, she silently called out for help, over the crowd of cheering dragons. She called to the imperial....and she answered.

Loud, violent roars woke her from her sleep. The sight of one of the guards sent flying across their prison wagon, causing her to jump with a start. But the familiar plague eyes froze her in place. She stared, feeling tears well in her eyes as she realized what was happening. She didn't flinch as her cage was violently torn open, she didn't hesitate as the imperial told her to hurry, she didn't think twice as she flew to the large female, gratefully curling her body around her neck. The imperial ripped and crushed open many other cages before finally flying off, running into the dark to get away. She curled around her tighter as the spiral heard the guards give chase and begin to get closer, she wanted to cry out as she felt their breath upon them; she was again shocked into silence as another imperial, even bigger than the female, violently lunged at the chasing dragon. She shuddered as the roars were stopped with a sicking crunch, that bleed into silence.

She learned the imperial's name. Lykaia. She learned that the dragon that so quickly and harshly ended the guard's life was her uncle Sparrow (and was far too sweet for a dragon that was capable of such a thing). And she quickly learned of their Clan, their 'Little Eden'. The dragons were kind, welcoming her, doing what they must to help her feel safe. But only one thing made her feel safe. Staying beside her hero. The two grew close, even if Lykaia was a bit awkward around her at first. They grew to care and trust each other. Lykaia giving her a feeling of safety and security, and in turn, SongBird helped with with any nightmares and night terrors Lykaia was prone to. And it was VERY clear to the clan, that the spiral had fallen deeply in love with her savior. The imperial's feelings are a bit more unknown. But, the fact that she lets SongBird sleep with her, travel with her, and even accompany her on hunts, (something she would normally adamantly want to do alone), says quite a bit despite her refusal to speak on the matter.





Art by the lovely Maybellmay



Art by the amazing Peanutbuttergay