Ulmo

Ulmo: Clumsy, dependable, curious, timid (if you want this part)

"How strange!" The mother exclaimed as she watched her young son stare up at the barely visible stars, his eyes straining to see the glowing freckles that dotted the dark expanse that laid above the tangled trees.

"Yes! How odd!" Exclaimed the father as the tiny coatl waddled up to him, excited, bright violet eyes staring into his.

"Daddy!" The young coatl squawked.

The older coatl groaned. "Yes?"

"What are those?" The young dragon asked, referring to the illuminated shapes that laid above the gnarled trees outside their den.

His tongue lashed out in disgust. "Nothing of your concern!" He snapped. "We are shadow dragons! We do not concern ourselves with the light!"

The small dragon recoiled, skittering away from his father.
Shaking, the small creature laid beside his siblings, seeking refuge in the company of his kin.
But they offered no refuge, no escape from their father's angry glare. They shifted their cold bodies away from him, avoiding him, as if merely touching his scales scalded them.

Repressing a whimper, the small coatl curled in on himself, attempting to stay warm as he laid alone on the damp ground of the den. Squeezing his eyes shut, he attempted to sleep, but found his attempts futile. He could still feel his father's eyes glaring at him, burning him, the heat seeping through his scales and reaching beneath his skin.

"He'll never be a shadow dragon!" The mother hissed, her claws scraping small stones as she pawed at the ground. "Too curious! Too vibrant!"

"Well what do you suppose we do?" Her mate whispered loudly, frustrated.

Eventually, as he listened in oh the conversation of his parents, their voices began to fade, and the darkness engulfed him.
--
When the morning came, it was just as dim and dark as the night before, the difference barely distinguishable.

The mother dragon herded her children as they trekked through the woods.

The hatchlings walked with such grace, practically gliding along the chilly ground, as though they had practiced this route many times before.
All the hatchlings except the clumsy, curious coatl, who stumbled behind his parents, rushing to catch up as he fell further and further behind.

His family was nowhere in sight when he tripped yet again, crashing into the muddy debris that littered the forest floor.
As he struggled to stand, a grunt came from behind him, and hot breath surrounded him.
The creature growled, and the young coatl quivered. Hesitantly, he turned his head to peer at the creature behind him.
As he laid his eyes on the Thornthick Theif that stood behind him, a flash of blue and violet knocked the creature to the ground.

After agonizing minutes of the Thornthick Thief staring into the eyes of its attacker, it seemed to realize that the tiny coatl wasn't worth the fight.
There were easier meals to be had.
The massive beast lumbered away, grunting and groaning as it went.

The large coatl turned to look at the hatchling with a grin. "Hello! I'm Marcoto!" The dragon greeted, attempting to ease the young hatchling's nerves.

"I-I'm Ulmo!" The young coatl squeaked as he shrank away from the other dragon.

"Well it's nice to meet you, Ulmo!" The larger dragon responded, stepping closer to Ulmo.
"What are you doing outside your den at such a young age?" He asked, cocking his head to the side.

"We were going somewhere..." Ulmo muttered, still not completely trusting Marcoto.

"Well we better find them!" Marcoto exclaimed enthusiastically, in an attempt to raise Ulmo's spirits.

"It's no use." Ulmo replied, dejected and dispirited.

It was not possible for the curious Marcoto to tilt his head any further to the side, for if he could, he would. "And why is that?" He asked, confusion evident in his words.

"I'll never be a shadow dragon." Ulmo whined. "I'll never be one of them."

Marcoto perked up quickly. "Come with me then!" He shouted happily.

"But you're an ice dragon!" Ulmo yelled. "It's much too cold there!"

Marcoto laughed. "Ice flight? Perhaps I was born into that flight, but I am an arcane dragon, you know."

"Arcane?" Ulmo asked, his natural curiosity making itself known.
Ulmo couldn't tell whether his companion was ignoring him, or if he simply hasn't heard him. "What are you doing here, then?" He tried, wondering if a different question would bring an answer.

"Official business, sent by the Arcanist himself!" Marcoto said proudly.

"The Arcanist?"

"Yes, the Arcanist." Marcoto took a second to glance at the small coatl that walked beside him. "You don't know who that is, do you?" He asked.

"Is he important?"

"Important?" Marcoto chuckled. "He's our leader!"

---
Eventually, Marcoto finished his errand, and was faced with a difficult challenge; teaching the clumsy hatchling to fly.

It took time, and Marcoto, although proud, could not call Ulmo's flying graceful.

Marcoto had to remind himself, on their flight to the Starfall Isles, that Ulmo was a much less experienced flier, and he had to be patient with his companion.

Eventually, they made it.
Marcoto visited the Arcanist before excitedly leading Ulmo to the clan.

Dragons of all species, sizes, and colors greeted him. The sounds of laughter and singing surrounded him.

"Welcome home, kid!" Marcoto said merrily with a chuckle.

---
Time passed since his arrival. More and more dragons joined the clan. There seemed to be a new dragon every day, and Ulmo rarely got tired of meeting them.

Ulmo, although clumsy, managed to build himself quite a reputation. He was one of the most curious in the clan, questioning everything. Wanting to know why and how, wanting to know where, what, and even when. He also became known as a very dependable and responsible friend, who would see to it that any job or duty left to him would be completed-as long as that job or duty didn't include anything fragile.


This lore was written by Rebellionwolf216,
With one small change, the amount of time that's passed, from "years" to "time". changed another word, kept the meaning. The original has, since the writing of this become a nammed word.