Sinister
(#26837061)
Level 1 Imperial
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Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Light.
Male Imperial
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
28.31 m
Wingspan
20.98 m
Weight
8749.5 kg
Genetics
Shale
Crystal
Crystal
White
Shimmer
Shimmer
White
Underbelly
Underbelly
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Imperial
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
6
AGI
6
DEF
6
QCK
5
INT
8
VIT
8
MND
6
Biography
Ahavah's lone journey:
In the cave he felt weak, everything was blurry around him. Where had Olympe gone? Ahavah felt abandoned, and very hot. Ahavah could feel his stomach as it rumbled, his skin stretched over his bones, and as he raggedly breathed. Ahavah rolled over, his eyes slowly adjusted to the bright light from the wicker cave entrance. Ahavah searched the little cave desperately, until his eyes rested on a small pile of scavenged food. Olympe must have left him here before she had vanished, he couldn't remember her telling him anything though. Where she was remained a mystery, and different ideas of why she had left haunted Ahavah.
His dreams were uncontrolled and violent. His old harassers, who Olympe would always try to stop, spoke their harsh words for eternity. Olympe felt uneasy and sick in this dream, rumours and whispers crowded him and squished the little space he had even smaller. Suddenly he felt as if the floor had dropped from beneath him, and he was plummeting down into a place of no return. A thick substance he couldn't see encircled him. It smelled of oil, and rotten meat. Clogging his nostrils, filling his mouth and finally stripping Ahavah of his air, the substance had done its job to destroy him.
Light burned in his eyes. Ahavah quickly screwed them back shut and gasped heavily. Air flooded his lungs, clean and sweet air. His head felt aflame, his body felt maimed, but he was alive. The smell from his dreams (probably caused from his sickness) and the fluid within them, felt real still. Too real, and too haunting. Ahavah painfully sat up and cried out as his hand pressed against something sharp and oddly shaped. Ahavah inspected the ground and found a small shiny stone on its surface, black like obsidian yet also partially consumed by the regular cave rock it must have broke from. Ahavah picked it up and threw it across the cave where it bounced off a wall and skittered across the ground. Sudden rage built in his body as tears rose to his eyes. Something outside growled and Ahavah suddenly felt drowned in doubt and fear. Ahavah scuttled back, his anger was completely drained and now he had nothing left inside of him to fuel any strength. His headache pounded and his sickness became overpowering. Ahavah dragged himself back to the far corner of the cave, wondering where the growl had come from.
Another sound echoed at the mouth of the cave, vicious and predatory. Ahavah jumped at the sound and searched the cave desperately for a safe place. There it was, a small burrow that dug deeper into the cave (like a little tunnel entrance) which he could fit under if he flattened himself against the ground. Quickly Ahavah scurried as fast as he could with his pounding headache, and he squeezed under the rocky overhang of the odd safe-hole. His headache suddenly overcame him, and he was swept into a sleepy state.
Ahavah's dreams continued to torture him with unanswered questions and fright unknown. He couldn't help falling back to sleep though, as the darkness dragged him into its blanketed embrace.
Olympe. She stood in front of him, back turned. Ahavah cried out in joy, she had truly never left him! Ahavah hurried towards her, but stopped waiting for her to turn around. Yet when she did, he saw her; in her eyes there was only emptiness. She was nothing but a husk, a memory, for the demons in his head to toy with.
When Ahavah awoke he was drenched in sweat, hopelessly shivering.The animal from the other night was not at the tunnel of his safe-hole anymore, its bright yellow eyes vanishing from the place of its appearance. Ahavah had no idea what creature resembled the one he had seen, but it wanted him and that was all he could know for sure. How could the creature resist a victim so weak, and weaker still, that Ahavah could barely move. Suddenly Ahavah felt crowded, hot and lonely. Waves of sorrow crashed into him mercilessly and he abode their will, sinking deep into anxiety.
Ahavah rested easily that time, no nightmares or creatures prowled his mind. He felt his head, ever-pounding, where his fever had worsened. Or perhaps it hadn't, but he couldn't bear it nonetheless. Ahavah's stomach rumbled, so he carefully pondered whether or not the cave was safe to return to. He remembered that in his hurried escape from the animal, his predator, Ahavah had left his food on the rock. Ahavah's stomach growled again, and he felt head pressure, persuading him to slowly crawl out of his cramped space and back into the cave. No other animals were there, luckily. Ahavah weakly stumbled towards the food, but could barely see anything left to consume. The berries were scattered across the floor, their bright juices forming colourful rivulets along the stone face. Ahavah picked up the few berries that weren't destroyed, and found a little piece of jerky wedged behind the rock, half eaten to a stub where it could no longer be accessed. Ahavah counted the berries, sixteen remainder and the quarter/half stick of meat. Ahavah ate six of his berries, and a few nibbles of the dwindling jerky. When the salt from the dried meat caused him to feel (on top of regular dehydration from his sickness) parched Ahavah bravely wandered to the mouth of the cave and drank dew off plant leaves. When Ahavah became tired again he crawled back to his safe hole and allowed his fatigue to consume him.
Ahavah dreamed of his clan. Altissima and Aorn seemed to scrutinize him, while others simply stared. Somebodies voice, low yet powerful, drifted on the breeze as Ahavah saw his clan members flash by.
"Ahavah. We know you can do this, but you must believe as well in your own potential. For all those days hidden in weakness you have grown stronger, Show us and show yourself that you are worth more than those who have pushed you down. Ahavah, break through what they have made you into."
Something else, an afterthought perhaps, drifted away with the rest of the words before it. Ahavah strained to listen, but it was long gone.
They were right, Ahavah had to be stronger, he would be stronger. He was the only one oppressing himself, and he knew his own capabilities. Even in his sickness, he could find a way to exploit himself and his remaining strength. And why not use his best survival skills?
Ahavah wove a trap carefully, his fingers flying over and under the "rope" he was using. Ahavah had roamed the cave first, finding a few materials to use. A sharp rock, perhaps the one that had cut him earlier, was used to cut dried grass clumps (thick and tough grass, Ahavah considered the posibility of it being wheat-like stocks, but he was too sick to care) and silvery vines that climbed along the entrance of the cave. He produced a few, two with different mechanisms for ground animals and one for tree-hanging. They were sturdy, practical and Ahavah was very proud of his work, in all its simplicity. After setting up his traps, Ahavah scuttled across the cave floor to his hiding spot and ate half his remaining berries and left a tiny stub of jerky, just in case. His head cleared slightly, and he suddenly felt much better.
He napped in silence and peace, waiting as darkness descended for the morning to arrive.
Ahavah lived off the food he caught, and anything else he could find. Unfortunately though, his sickness returned and he worsened. Eventually he couldn't check his traps anymore, only a few days into his brilliant strategy, and he collapsed. His food ran out in half a day, and he felt starving and pained as he lay paralyzed in his own sweat and fear on the cave floor. He lay on the verge of death, hunger nawed his stomach, fatigue ate through each moment he remained awake and death lined each move he made.
Ahavah could barely remember anything. He was lifted up off the cave floor. The sound of wings beating thumped in his ears as Ahavah remained confused. Captor, savior, predator, he was unsure. All he knew was that the cold rock was no longer under his dying body. And then he was out, out like a snuffed candle flame. The light died, and he thought he would follow it, but little did he know that Olympe's face would once again greet him.
In the cave he felt weak, everything was blurry around him. Where had Olympe gone? Ahavah felt abandoned, and very hot. Ahavah could feel his stomach as it rumbled, his skin stretched over his bones, and as he raggedly breathed. Ahavah rolled over, his eyes slowly adjusted to the bright light from the wicker cave entrance. Ahavah searched the little cave desperately, until his eyes rested on a small pile of scavenged food. Olympe must have left him here before she had vanished, he couldn't remember her telling him anything though. Where she was remained a mystery, and different ideas of why she had left haunted Ahavah.
His dreams were uncontrolled and violent. His old harassers, who Olympe would always try to stop, spoke their harsh words for eternity. Olympe felt uneasy and sick in this dream, rumours and whispers crowded him and squished the little space he had even smaller. Suddenly he felt as if the floor had dropped from beneath him, and he was plummeting down into a place of no return. A thick substance he couldn't see encircled him. It smelled of oil, and rotten meat. Clogging his nostrils, filling his mouth and finally stripping Ahavah of his air, the substance had done its job to destroy him.
Light burned in his eyes. Ahavah quickly screwed them back shut and gasped heavily. Air flooded his lungs, clean and sweet air. His head felt aflame, his body felt maimed, but he was alive. The smell from his dreams (probably caused from his sickness) and the fluid within them, felt real still. Too real, and too haunting. Ahavah painfully sat up and cried out as his hand pressed against something sharp and oddly shaped. Ahavah inspected the ground and found a small shiny stone on its surface, black like obsidian yet also partially consumed by the regular cave rock it must have broke from. Ahavah picked it up and threw it across the cave where it bounced off a wall and skittered across the ground. Sudden rage built in his body as tears rose to his eyes. Something outside growled and Ahavah suddenly felt drowned in doubt and fear. Ahavah scuttled back, his anger was completely drained and now he had nothing left inside of him to fuel any strength. His headache pounded and his sickness became overpowering. Ahavah dragged himself back to the far corner of the cave, wondering where the growl had come from.
Another sound echoed at the mouth of the cave, vicious and predatory. Ahavah jumped at the sound and searched the cave desperately for a safe place. There it was, a small burrow that dug deeper into the cave (like a little tunnel entrance) which he could fit under if he flattened himself against the ground. Quickly Ahavah scurried as fast as he could with his pounding headache, and he squeezed under the rocky overhang of the odd safe-hole. His headache suddenly overcame him, and he was swept into a sleepy state.
Ahavah's dreams continued to torture him with unanswered questions and fright unknown. He couldn't help falling back to sleep though, as the darkness dragged him into its blanketed embrace.
Olympe. She stood in front of him, back turned. Ahavah cried out in joy, she had truly never left him! Ahavah hurried towards her, but stopped waiting for her to turn around. Yet when she did, he saw her; in her eyes there was only emptiness. She was nothing but a husk, a memory, for the demons in his head to toy with.
When Ahavah awoke he was drenched in sweat, hopelessly shivering.The animal from the other night was not at the tunnel of his safe-hole anymore, its bright yellow eyes vanishing from the place of its appearance. Ahavah had no idea what creature resembled the one he had seen, but it wanted him and that was all he could know for sure. How could the creature resist a victim so weak, and weaker still, that Ahavah could barely move. Suddenly Ahavah felt crowded, hot and lonely. Waves of sorrow crashed into him mercilessly and he abode their will, sinking deep into anxiety.
Ahavah rested easily that time, no nightmares or creatures prowled his mind. He felt his head, ever-pounding, where his fever had worsened. Or perhaps it hadn't, but he couldn't bear it nonetheless. Ahavah's stomach rumbled, so he carefully pondered whether or not the cave was safe to return to. He remembered that in his hurried escape from the animal, his predator, Ahavah had left his food on the rock. Ahavah's stomach growled again, and he felt head pressure, persuading him to slowly crawl out of his cramped space and back into the cave. No other animals were there, luckily. Ahavah weakly stumbled towards the food, but could barely see anything left to consume. The berries were scattered across the floor, their bright juices forming colourful rivulets along the stone face. Ahavah picked up the few berries that weren't destroyed, and found a little piece of jerky wedged behind the rock, half eaten to a stub where it could no longer be accessed. Ahavah counted the berries, sixteen remainder and the quarter/half stick of meat. Ahavah ate six of his berries, and a few nibbles of the dwindling jerky. When the salt from the dried meat caused him to feel (on top of regular dehydration from his sickness) parched Ahavah bravely wandered to the mouth of the cave and drank dew off plant leaves. When Ahavah became tired again he crawled back to his safe hole and allowed his fatigue to consume him.
Ahavah dreamed of his clan. Altissima and Aorn seemed to scrutinize him, while others simply stared. Somebodies voice, low yet powerful, drifted on the breeze as Ahavah saw his clan members flash by.
"Ahavah. We know you can do this, but you must believe as well in your own potential. For all those days hidden in weakness you have grown stronger, Show us and show yourself that you are worth more than those who have pushed you down. Ahavah, break through what they have made you into."
Something else, an afterthought perhaps, drifted away with the rest of the words before it. Ahavah strained to listen, but it was long gone.
They were right, Ahavah had to be stronger, he would be stronger. He was the only one oppressing himself, and he knew his own capabilities. Even in his sickness, he could find a way to exploit himself and his remaining strength. And why not use his best survival skills?
Ahavah wove a trap carefully, his fingers flying over and under the "rope" he was using. Ahavah had roamed the cave first, finding a few materials to use. A sharp rock, perhaps the one that had cut him earlier, was used to cut dried grass clumps (thick and tough grass, Ahavah considered the posibility of it being wheat-like stocks, but he was too sick to care) and silvery vines that climbed along the entrance of the cave. He produced a few, two with different mechanisms for ground animals and one for tree-hanging. They were sturdy, practical and Ahavah was very proud of his work, in all its simplicity. After setting up his traps, Ahavah scuttled across the cave floor to his hiding spot and ate half his remaining berries and left a tiny stub of jerky, just in case. His head cleared slightly, and he suddenly felt much better.
He napped in silence and peace, waiting as darkness descended for the morning to arrive.
Ahavah lived off the food he caught, and anything else he could find. Unfortunately though, his sickness returned and he worsened. Eventually he couldn't check his traps anymore, only a few days into his brilliant strategy, and he collapsed. His food ran out in half a day, and he felt starving and pained as he lay paralyzed in his own sweat and fear on the cave floor. He lay on the verge of death, hunger nawed his stomach, fatigue ate through each moment he remained awake and death lined each move he made.
Ahavah could barely remember anything. He was lifted up off the cave floor. The sound of wings beating thumped in his ears as Ahavah remained confused. Captor, savior, predator, he was unsure. All he knew was that the cold rock was no longer under his dying body. And then he was out, out like a snuffed candle flame. The light died, and he thought he would follow it, but little did he know that Olympe's face would once again greet him.
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