Babette
(#32714831)
Level 25 Tundra
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 50/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Plague.
Female Tundra
This dragon is hibernating.
Expand the dragon details section.
Collapse the dragon details section.
Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
3.99 m
Wingspan
3.35 m
Weight
212.87 kg
Genetics
Sanguine
Skink
Skink
Sanguine
Spinner
Spinner
Saffron
Runes
Runes
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 25 Tundra
Max Level
STR
133
AGI
10
DEF
5
QCK
32
INT
5
VIT
20
MND
5
Lineage
Parents
Offspring
- Yakone
- Banica
- Anasa
- Zulekha
- Aricia
- Kaz
- Viper
- Unnamed
- Atapue
- Akuji
- Kiliac
- Akasha
- Isaac
- Ash
- Tiara
- Harlo
- Mallory
- Ophelia
- Nixon
- Marlais
- Sullie
- Ajala
- Renegade
- Erendirias
- Eros
- Lawrence
- Oriella
- Scarlet
- Brian
- Gianna
- Marcus
- Finnian
- Destria
- Narumi
- Tarma
- Plautis
- Moelwen
- Valeth
- BloodyMary
- Bloodlust
- Amalia
- ombre
- Yagel
- Nigel
- Neroma
- Rethor
- Newton
- Coel
- Maura
- Raider
- Psoron
- Olda
- Xylona
- Tessitura
- Anoushka
- Fallah
- Jun
- Kirill
- Laythan
- Ayida
- Garnet
- Misty
- Selene
- Sugar
- Amalure
- Revyn
- Toby
- Ajani
- Marcus
- Caiatra
- Cobalt
- Amobella
- Irving
- Tiara
- Myar
- Achilles
- Volari
- Mariela
- Mumford
- Xray
- Hakkan
- Tyrith
- Dolor
- Varkas
- Laken
- Lulani
- Phorcys
- Wyngale
- Laurens
- Alusair
- Ekolon
- Ginessa
- Loman
- Juniper
- Shaderain
- Norm
- Meilichios
- Bones
- Lex
- Abasis
- Wingsong
- Maeby
- Papa
- Canton
- Ion
- Unzsa
- Irga
- Planeswalker
- Langness
- Andrick
- Marvis
- Stonearm
- Florian
- Hauora
- Yodh
- Famine
- War
- Death
- Crispin
- Prophet
- Dimefox
- Dankim
- Nagendra
- Kallikrates
- Merlino
- Rogett
- Vesuvius
- Summersong
- Dasia
- Raputo
- Asterope
- Morfael
- Flayer
- Crusade
- Anivia
- Veneficus
- Van
- Ozzy
- Artificer
- Jimbo
- Opal
- Crimsroyal
- Ianna
- Isabel
- Stonefrill
- Joline
- Cloudchaser
- Oskar
- Jekusea
- Emberstrike
- Osha
- Queen
- Sirene
- Savir
- Aen
- Origin
- Shade
- Eomer
Biography
Peyp
As the tiny Tundra, Babette, hatched, she was surrounded by her foster-family. Out of five eggs, hers was the only surviving egg they found in the abandoned plague nest. The rest were dried by something, dehydrated... Still, the foster-parents couldn't just leave the remaining one to die, they believed it was the same as killing the egg themselves.
As her red eyes opened, she couldn't see anything from the remaining egg scale and greenish slime that were stuck on her forehead fur. Her foster-father removed it for her, so his family could see the new member's face, and so the little Tundra could see them as well. They were Bogsneaks, covered in dark, red skin, holding few hatchlings of their own species, probably theirs. She was the similar color as they were, which they found strange, but it was good. She wouldn't feel left-out as a family member since her color is close to theirs. They were mainly meat eaters, but they could eat plants with her, so getting her the food should not be an issue either. Or so they thought...
Offered plants as her first meal, Babette didn't even seem to understand that it is supposed to be food, one sniff and she turned her head, looking into the corner. The father was concerned if the plants are right, so he ate some. There didn't seem to be any problems with the plants, so he offered some to his own hatchlings. Maybe it was only adults that liked that plant, he didn't know. But his youngsters ate the plants and actually seemed to enjoy it. The little Tundra turned her head, looking at her step-brothers eating, but she still didn't show any interest in the plants or any remorse for refusing them, as is usually the case with hatchlings that give up something only to see it being used by others. They decided they'd figure out her food as soon as they feed their offspring. They didn't plan to make them mainly plant-eaters, as plants weren't found often near their home, so they gave the little ones a freshly caught vulture to eat.
As their youngsters ate, tearing the large meat pieces they couldn't swallow, Babette growled at them. The mother thought she hated the smell of meat, like many other Tundras, so she advised the father to take her away while the rest of hatchlings eat meat. As he was about to pick up Babette, the father felt something trying to pierce his hand, albeit unsuccessfully. As he took a better look, he saw the Tundra holding onto his hand with her bare teeth, or rather, only two fangs. His eyes widened in surprise, and he almost dropped hatchling... But she didn't fall, her fangs finally pierced his skin and she was left hanging onto his wounds. He took her off with his free hand, and left her on the ground, shifting his view from the wound to her jaw. The Tundras have canine teeth used for combat, and he saw a few adult Tundras with very sharp fangs, but never as sharp and long as hers. It wasn't just her fangs, her jaw didn't have any flat teeth, used to chew plants. She wasn't a plant-eater, to begin with, she was a natural born carnivore. He was a bit wary of her, and he left her in the separate room as he went to take another vulture they caught. The mother caught a glimpse of him while she was overseeing her children eat, and she caught the fresh blood dripping from his arm. Giving a last glance to her hatchlings, she followed him, intending to ask about the wound. He was coming back towards her with the dead bird and wary expression. "Why are you bleeding? What happened to your arm?" - she asked with a worried expression. Piercing the skin of Bogsneak was no easy feat... He showed her to follow him with a hand gesture and lead her to the Tundra.
Babette's eyes shone as she smelled bloody meat, even before they entered the room. A happy grin on her face and eyes closely following the bird approaching her in the hands of the male Bogsneak. There was no trace of his blood on her teeth anymore, she licked it clean. The bird was thrown to her and the male Bogsneak warned the female not to come close. She looked at him, worried as if he were mad, but the sound of bones cracking moved her attention to the Tundra. Babette was crushing bones with her teeth, tearing the meat and holding it in her throat for a while, then spitting it back out, drained of blood. She did the same to the whole bird, piece by piece, she dried it of its blood and spat it out, not even remotely interested in meat and bones.
"What is that? What is she?" - asked the female Bogsneak her partner, to which he simply shook his head. He didn't have an answer to her question, but he agreed with what the female said next. "She's dangerous! Too dangerous. What is she attacks our children?"
Still, they couldn't bring themselves to kill the monstrous Tundra. Maybe she was just a mutation, or an experiment like their whole species started. They provided her food and taught her to hunt, but they never brought any of their children along when she was close by and they always wore an armor. She learned from them how to sneak, mend onto the surroundings, prey the animal. They taught her to be like they were, sneaky, going for sure kills. But she never killed her prey fast like they did. In front of their own eyes, she tore limbs from her, still alive, prey, or skinned it while its heart was still beating. When she decided to finally eat, she always started from legs, prolonging the suffering of her prey, with little regard to teachings from her step-parents. The Bogsneaks started to fear her, who wasn't even an adult yet. "Can we defend if she decides we're to become her food?" She was stronger than any Tundra, she was at least as strong as a Guardian, she could retract her claws, and her fangs grew when she smelled blood. Two adult Bogsneaks could still probably overpower her, but if she decided to go after their hatchlings, who were only a few hours older than she was, and have received the same training... She would slaughter them. They couldn't risk lives of their children any further... They ran away during one day, while Babette was sleeping. They knew she was nocturnal and could barely be woken up during the day-hours. They abandoned their long-lasting home, because of a single, bloodthirsty Tundra.
The day passed, and Babette woke up, she didn't hear any sound, other than her breathing. She stopped breathing, just to be sure there are no sounds at all. Only some bats, flapping their wings in distance. No smells of other dragons either, they picked everything they owned and vanished. She started to breathe again. It was just a habit, she had no need to breathe. She could make her heart beat few times, but unless she actually tried to do it, it didn't beat. She breathed and made her heart beat occasionally because the other dragons did the same, not because she had to. She got up, slightly opening her jaw. "So they ran away... Shame. The little ones were almost a good to devour, they almost grew to perfect size. Argh, I should've sucked them dry sooner..." - said Babette, with a hint of regret in her voice. "No matter, they weren't only fresh ones around. The night is young, it's time to hunt!"
Hunting wasn't a chore for Babette, it was a play, nothing more, nothing much. Anything with beating heart was a prey, dragon, familiar, tiny animal, it didn't matter. She was cunning, speaking to other dragons, hiding her sharp teeth and claws, blending into the crowd as any other Tundra, until she found someone who trusted her enough to call her a "friend" or "companion". It never took longer than a week for her to pave her way to trust of other dragons, and once they offered her to visit their home, she'd gladly accept. Naturally, the family of a "friend" never survived the night. It's not like she needed to be invited to enter their home, it was just her feeling so much better when she backstabbed someone who trusted her, seeing the look of surprise and disbelief in their eyes, after making them watch their partner or children get slaughtered in front of them.
The days passed and she was noticed by many... Her head was worth the treasure, she was wanted, she was hunted. "Playing hide and seek? Playing tag? Very well, we shall play... Let us see who is hunting and who is hunted." - she thought as she saw her first wanted poster. Her tongue played around her mouth as she imagined ripping the throats of the ones who came to kill her, risking their lives for some pennies. "They don't know what's in store for them." She was euphoric, giggling the whole time. She never considered her hunters to be worthy of being her opponents. And she was right, most that came suffered horrific deaths, and she always left them somewhere where they'd be found soon. She hoped it would anger the others and that they would send stronger ones after her, but this time, she was wrong. It had the opposite effect, they rarely ever came, and most that did were weaker. "Cowards, useless!" - she was angered by this, she was bored. She was like a cat playing the mice who thought they could get her, but what should cat do when mice are gone? "It's been a while since I've eaten some fresh meat. And I smell it... The scent of eggs, freshly hatched..."
As she neared the nest, she smelled the parents, or so she thought. "The Wind folk? Interesting. Let's see how this goes..." - said Babette, as she waited for the cover of darkness. As the adults fell asleep next to their precious eggs, she prowled closer, one step at the time. They seemed too young to be parents, brothers perhaps. Maybe parents left to search for food... She drained one egg, then the other, and the other. All but the last two. She left one intact, and drained half of the other one, replacing what she took with her own blood. She made no sound during all that, and family was sleeping soundly through it all. Their brethren were just killed, and they were probably flying, thinking up the songs in their dreams. Knowing that made Babette happy and excited. She couldn't wait to see what happens next, but sadly, she'd probably sleep through it, unless she wakes up the Pearcatchers herself. She sneaked back into the bushes, blending with surroundings as she was taught by her foster-parents and she threw a rock, hitting one of the Pearlcatchers pearls. The sound of pearl being hit was way louder than she thought it would be, but it didn't matter. The adults were awake, and she could see them changing emotions in seconds. Surprise, confusion, disbelief, anger, sadness, and despair, followed by grief and relief. At least two eggs survived is what they thought, probably... But it wasn't long before the two eggs hatched, and the elder brothers watched one hatchling devouring the other with no remorse. They couldn't move to save the weaker one, they didn't believe what they see, they froze in place.
"What kind of a brother watches their brethren get devoured without even lifting a finger? Do Pearlcatcher hatchlings usually do that?" - said Babette, as she neared the two shocked dragons. They were swiftly overpowered by her, she didn't let them fight her two versus one. This was one of the situations where she actually instantly killed her prey, instead of using it as a toy. Desperate dragons are always troublesome, so she ripped throat of one brother and threw it to the side. As the corpse fell down, the other male tried to put up a fight, but what could he do, panicking like that? It didn't take long for him to stumble in front of her feet. After playing with his corpse for a while, she looked over to see what the surviving hatchling was doing, hoping to see eyes full of despair as she killed his elder brothers in front of him. But what she saw surprised even her. He couldn't care less about the fact that his brothers were dead. All he focused on was placing ripped throat into his mouth. "You brat. I like you! I'll take you with me, you'll grow under my care. I name you Hannibal." - said Babetter with glow in her eyes as she picked the hatchling up and placed a piece of his father into his mouth, watching him as he was swallowing the pieces and contently spitting them out, dry of blood.
The Vampire Tundra
Babette
Babette
|
I want to devour... More... More... The smell grows stronger. Every breath I take in, it's full of it, the sweet smell. I can almost taste it, almost... So close... Devour it, all of it! Not a drop shall go waste. So precious, so red, so beautiful... Squeeze the life out of them, look at it flowing out. Taste it, feel it. The sensation of fangs piercing, and the sweet, sweet taste of blood. |
As the tiny Tundra, Babette, hatched, she was surrounded by her foster-family. Out of five eggs, hers was the only surviving egg they found in the abandoned plague nest. The rest were dried by something, dehydrated... Still, the foster-parents couldn't just leave the remaining one to die, they believed it was the same as killing the egg themselves.
As her red eyes opened, she couldn't see anything from the remaining egg scale and greenish slime that were stuck on her forehead fur. Her foster-father removed it for her, so his family could see the new member's face, and so the little Tundra could see them as well. They were Bogsneaks, covered in dark, red skin, holding few hatchlings of their own species, probably theirs. She was the similar color as they were, which they found strange, but it was good. She wouldn't feel left-out as a family member since her color is close to theirs. They were mainly meat eaters, but they could eat plants with her, so getting her the food should not be an issue either. Or so they thought...
Offered plants as her first meal, Babette didn't even seem to understand that it is supposed to be food, one sniff and she turned her head, looking into the corner. The father was concerned if the plants are right, so he ate some. There didn't seem to be any problems with the plants, so he offered some to his own hatchlings. Maybe it was only adults that liked that plant, he didn't know. But his youngsters ate the plants and actually seemed to enjoy it. The little Tundra turned her head, looking at her step-brothers eating, but she still didn't show any interest in the plants or any remorse for refusing them, as is usually the case with hatchlings that give up something only to see it being used by others. They decided they'd figure out her food as soon as they feed their offspring. They didn't plan to make them mainly plant-eaters, as plants weren't found often near their home, so they gave the little ones a freshly caught vulture to eat.
As their youngsters ate, tearing the large meat pieces they couldn't swallow, Babette growled at them. The mother thought she hated the smell of meat, like many other Tundras, so she advised the father to take her away while the rest of hatchlings eat meat. As he was about to pick up Babette, the father felt something trying to pierce his hand, albeit unsuccessfully. As he took a better look, he saw the Tundra holding onto his hand with her bare teeth, or rather, only two fangs. His eyes widened in surprise, and he almost dropped hatchling... But she didn't fall, her fangs finally pierced his skin and she was left hanging onto his wounds. He took her off with his free hand, and left her on the ground, shifting his view from the wound to her jaw. The Tundras have canine teeth used for combat, and he saw a few adult Tundras with very sharp fangs, but never as sharp and long as hers. It wasn't just her fangs, her jaw didn't have any flat teeth, used to chew plants. She wasn't a plant-eater, to begin with, she was a natural born carnivore. He was a bit wary of her, and he left her in the separate room as he went to take another vulture they caught. The mother caught a glimpse of him while she was overseeing her children eat, and she caught the fresh blood dripping from his arm. Giving a last glance to her hatchlings, she followed him, intending to ask about the wound. He was coming back towards her with the dead bird and wary expression. "Why are you bleeding? What happened to your arm?" - she asked with a worried expression. Piercing the skin of Bogsneak was no easy feat... He showed her to follow him with a hand gesture and lead her to the Tundra.
Babette's eyes shone as she smelled bloody meat, even before they entered the room. A happy grin on her face and eyes closely following the bird approaching her in the hands of the male Bogsneak. There was no trace of his blood on her teeth anymore, she licked it clean. The bird was thrown to her and the male Bogsneak warned the female not to come close. She looked at him, worried as if he were mad, but the sound of bones cracking moved her attention to the Tundra. Babette was crushing bones with her teeth, tearing the meat and holding it in her throat for a while, then spitting it back out, drained of blood. She did the same to the whole bird, piece by piece, she dried it of its blood and spat it out, not even remotely interested in meat and bones.
"What is that? What is she?" - asked the female Bogsneak her partner, to which he simply shook his head. He didn't have an answer to her question, but he agreed with what the female said next. "She's dangerous! Too dangerous. What is she attacks our children?"
Still, they couldn't bring themselves to kill the monstrous Tundra. Maybe she was just a mutation, or an experiment like their whole species started. They provided her food and taught her to hunt, but they never brought any of their children along when she was close by and they always wore an armor. She learned from them how to sneak, mend onto the surroundings, prey the animal. They taught her to be like they were, sneaky, going for sure kills. But she never killed her prey fast like they did. In front of their own eyes, she tore limbs from her, still alive, prey, or skinned it while its heart was still beating. When she decided to finally eat, she always started from legs, prolonging the suffering of her prey, with little regard to teachings from her step-parents. The Bogsneaks started to fear her, who wasn't even an adult yet. "Can we defend if she decides we're to become her food?" She was stronger than any Tundra, she was at least as strong as a Guardian, she could retract her claws, and her fangs grew when she smelled blood. Two adult Bogsneaks could still probably overpower her, but if she decided to go after their hatchlings, who were only a few hours older than she was, and have received the same training... She would slaughter them. They couldn't risk lives of their children any further... They ran away during one day, while Babette was sleeping. They knew she was nocturnal and could barely be woken up during the day-hours. They abandoned their long-lasting home, because of a single, bloodthirsty Tundra.
|
 
   
|
|
The day passed, and Babette woke up, she didn't hear any sound, other than her breathing. She stopped breathing, just to be sure there are no sounds at all. Only some bats, flapping their wings in distance. No smells of other dragons either, they picked everything they owned and vanished. She started to breathe again. It was just a habit, she had no need to breathe. She could make her heart beat few times, but unless she actually tried to do it, it didn't beat. She breathed and made her heart beat occasionally because the other dragons did the same, not because she had to. She got up, slightly opening her jaw. "So they ran away... Shame. The little ones were almost a good to devour, they almost grew to perfect size. Argh, I should've sucked them dry sooner..." - said Babette, with a hint of regret in her voice. "No matter, they weren't only fresh ones around. The night is young, it's time to hunt!"
Hunting wasn't a chore for Babette, it was a play, nothing more, nothing much. Anything with beating heart was a prey, dragon, familiar, tiny animal, it didn't matter. She was cunning, speaking to other dragons, hiding her sharp teeth and claws, blending into the crowd as any other Tundra, until she found someone who trusted her enough to call her a "friend" or "companion". It never took longer than a week for her to pave her way to trust of other dragons, and once they offered her to visit their home, she'd gladly accept. Naturally, the family of a "friend" never survived the night. It's not like she needed to be invited to enter their home, it was just her feeling so much better when she backstabbed someone who trusted her, seeing the look of surprise and disbelief in their eyes, after making them watch their partner or children get slaughtered in front of them.
The days passed and she was noticed by many... Her head was worth the treasure, she was wanted, she was hunted. "Playing hide and seek? Playing tag? Very well, we shall play... Let us see who is hunting and who is hunted." - she thought as she saw her first wanted poster. Her tongue played around her mouth as she imagined ripping the throats of the ones who came to kill her, risking their lives for some pennies. "They don't know what's in store for them." She was euphoric, giggling the whole time. She never considered her hunters to be worthy of being her opponents. And she was right, most that came suffered horrific deaths, and she always left them somewhere where they'd be found soon. She hoped it would anger the others and that they would send stronger ones after her, but this time, she was wrong. It had the opposite effect, they rarely ever came, and most that did were weaker. "Cowards, useless!" - she was angered by this, she was bored. She was like a cat playing the mice who thought they could get her, but what should cat do when mice are gone? "It's been a while since I've eaten some fresh meat. And I smell it... The scent of eggs, freshly hatched..."
As she neared the nest, she smelled the parents, or so she thought. "The Wind folk? Interesting. Let's see how this goes..." - said Babette, as she waited for the cover of darkness. As the adults fell asleep next to their precious eggs, she prowled closer, one step at the time. They seemed too young to be parents, brothers perhaps. Maybe parents left to search for food... She drained one egg, then the other, and the other. All but the last two. She left one intact, and drained half of the other one, replacing what she took with her own blood. She made no sound during all that, and family was sleeping soundly through it all. Their brethren were just killed, and they were probably flying, thinking up the songs in their dreams. Knowing that made Babette happy and excited. She couldn't wait to see what happens next, but sadly, she'd probably sleep through it, unless she wakes up the Pearcatchers herself. She sneaked back into the bushes, blending with surroundings as she was taught by her foster-parents and she threw a rock, hitting one of the Pearlcatchers pearls. The sound of pearl being hit was way louder than she thought it would be, but it didn't matter. The adults were awake, and she could see them changing emotions in seconds. Surprise, confusion, disbelief, anger, sadness, and despair, followed by grief and relief. At least two eggs survived is what they thought, probably... But it wasn't long before the two eggs hatched, and the elder brothers watched one hatchling devouring the other with no remorse. They couldn't move to save the weaker one, they didn't believe what they see, they froze in place.
"What kind of a brother watches their brethren get devoured without even lifting a finger? Do Pearlcatcher hatchlings usually do that?" - said Babette, as she neared the two shocked dragons. They were swiftly overpowered by her, she didn't let them fight her two versus one. This was one of the situations where she actually instantly killed her prey, instead of using it as a toy. Desperate dragons are always troublesome, so she ripped throat of one brother and threw it to the side. As the corpse fell down, the other male tried to put up a fight, but what could he do, panicking like that? It didn't take long for him to stumble in front of her feet. After playing with his corpse for a while, she looked over to see what the surviving hatchling was doing, hoping to see eyes full of despair as she killed his elder brothers in front of him. But what she saw surprised even her. He couldn't care less about the fact that his brothers were dead. All he focused on was placing ripped throat into his mouth. "You brat. I like you! I'll take you with me, you'll grow under my care. I name you Hannibal." - said Babetter with glow in her eyes as she picked the hatchling up and placed a piece of his father into his mouth, watching him as he was swallowing the pieces and contently spitting them out, dry of blood.
Short notes about her
 She's not your usual herbivore Tundra dragon |
|
 Mass-murderer and a vampire |
|
 Found herself a new, interesting toy. Poor thing... |
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.
This dragon doesn't eat Meat.
This dragon doesn't eat Seafood.
Feed this dragon Plants.
You can share this dragon on the forums by either copying the browser URL manually, or using bbcode!
Exalting Babette to the service of the Plaguebringer will remove them from your lair forever. They will leave behind a small sum of riches that they have accumulated. This action is irreversible.
Do you wish to continue?
- Names must be longer than 2 characters.
- Names must be no longer than 16 characters.
- Names can only contain letters.
- Names must be no longer than 16 characters.
- Names can only contain letters.