Rook
(#3195139)
The sins of the mother
Familiar
Treacherous Irons
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 49/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Light.
Female Wildclaw
This dragon is hibernating.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
6.1 m
Wingspan
8.59 m
Weight
524.84 kg
Genetics
Coal
Basic
Basic
Silver
Freckle
Freckle
Seafoam
Basic
Basic
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 25 Wildclaw
Max Level
STR
129
AGI
8
DEF
5
QCK
50
INT
5
VIT
13
MND
5
Biography
Rook
She was not born in the darkness. The darkness took her for itself.
There was a time when the Viridian Labyrinth stretched before her as a place of opportunity. Now, for Rook, the shadows of the Shrieking Wilds are a battleground, a prison.
There was a time when Rook knew the solace of companionship. Now, the true harshness of the world is laid bare to her, and her only companionship is found in a fugitive.
There was a time…
Night in the Viridian Labyrinth, though calmer than the day, was not a relaxing affair. The forest was still bursting at the seams with life, and that life never quite vanished at night. Around Rook and her comrades, countless insects buzzed. Unseen creatures rustled through the shallow ferns.
Rook raised her head high, scanning the forest for danger. She had long eschewed sleep in favor of watching over her fellow guards. She could swear that she kept hearing sounds out in the trees. Everything sounded like the slithering of a serpentine figure or ungainly wings flapping in the brush. The Beastclans-- perhaps Serthis, perhaps Talonok, perhaps both-- had been encroaching on them for days. They had never gone close enough to be a threat, but were too close to be considered peaceful.
Moonlight streamed haphazardly into the clearing through the leaves. Rook found herself staring up at the moon. She had never really bothered to take a good, long look at it before. Even in such a wary state, Rook felt comforted, knowing that her companions slept soundly beside her.
The darkness exploded from the trees.
The dark-- it was a thing, crafted only of jaws and claws and utter savagery. From nowhere, it ripped and tore at Rook’s wings, rending holes in them beyond repair. Rook could only watch as the darkness picked up her struggling clanmates, tearing them apart. Clawed hands grasped her head, digging into her jaws before they covered her eyes.
The dark was all she saw.
Do you hear us? A voice whispered in Rook’s mind. We hear your mind. It wants for power.
Rook wanted to scream. The dark claws ripped at her face. I want my friends back! I want my family back!
You want only for power. We can feel it. You want dominion. We can grant it.
Rook heard screaming. It felt as though it was miles away. All at once, the dark released her. Rook stumbled forward, regaining her footing. Her wings and face burned with pain, rent almost beyond recognition.
Rook wiped her face and frantically scanned the clearing. Her friends-- my friends! My family! -- stood about the clearing.
They were completely still. Not blinking. Not moving. Not breathing.
Each one turned to face her, slowly, deliberately. Their eyes were dark, like someone had cut holes in the world. Their shadows writhed and twisted, streaming from their bodies.
They charged all at once.
Shocked gasps and whispered cries emanated from the search party. One dragon loudly wept upon seeing her son lying, bloody and broken, upon the grass. A Plague Wildclaw-- perhaps more accustomed to the gore than most-- inspected the bodies before declaring that not everyone was accounted for. Rook’s body was missing.
A single trail of blood led into the forest. They did not think to follow it. They did not want to follow it, for fear of what they might find.
Rook stared at the horizon. The sun glinted off of the exposed bones of her face. She drew her cowl tighter around her face against the wind.
Bryce stood by her side, curling his vestigial, extra wings about his body. “Will this be a safe place?” he asked at last. His voice was soft and timid, almost childish.
“I do not know.” Rook’s voice was slow, raspy and labored. “We may never find one.”
“I hope it is,” Bryce said innocently. The markings on his forehead still glowed brightly even in the harsh sun. Next to Rook, he looked almost shrunken, tiny against the horizon… yet his runes still glowed bright. “I wanna go home... Or at least somewhere safe.”
“There was a time,” Rook said, “when I knew safety…”
Written by Dragonpals
by Darkfall
A being whose original form has long been lost to the relentless wear and tear of the wilds. A shell of its former self, fur patchy and rough, woven with the blood of those who attempted to snuff its pitiful life from existence.
While sorrowful and empty at first glance, the beast still remembers itself from before the calamity that sent its body into a slow, tedious decay. A life full of love and happy bodies pressed against its soft, comforting mass. Now nothing more than a wisp in the back of its mind, but a wisp it remembers fondly.
Fabrics and bandages only do so much to retain a shred of its past image, glistening bone and loose skin has too far revealed the foundations of its body underneath.
Still, despite its life of pain, wrongful anguish, the lost soul still clings to little lives in a hope that it might one day find itself again.
by QuetzalMuse
Redletter
Click or tap a food type to individually feed this dragon only. The other dragons in your lair will not have their energy replenished.
This dragon doesn't eat Insects.
Feed this dragon Meat.
This dragon doesn't eat Seafood.
This dragon doesn't eat Plants.
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Exalting Rook to the service of the Gladekeeper will remove them from your lair forever. They will leave behind a small sum of riches that they have accumulated. This action is irreversible.
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