Drone

Old man of the clan. Self-appointed guardian of the nesting grounds. Loves creating tunnels and exploring caves.
Rank: Brood father, digging expert
Mate: none

10/19/16 Perception is reality. Bonejack hurtled through the Wasteland imperiled by the 50' dragon stalking his tail. Of course Mirrors were much faster on land than the lumbering Ridgebacks, but it seemed that no matter the distance put between himself and the beast, he could turn just to see its thorny head rising up over the horizon, still trailing behind. Bonejack was tiring swiftly. He would either need to eat or stop running. He could feel the trembling of the land rushing to crescendo with every minute longer that he lingered. It was surely a colossal beast that thundered his way.

Drone had come from an old clan that had recently splintered. The alphas were gone, the hatchlings grown, restless, and ready to become Plague kings of their own clans. It had been a strong, unwieldy lair that created many more in its fracturing, and it left Drone displaced. He spied the young, lesser leader while they drank at the watering hole. Drone missed the enthusiasm of youth. He decided that this alpha's clan would be his new home. Unfortunately he must have given the leader quite a fright for the small Mirror bolted as soon as he approached. It was no matter. Drone was in no hurry.

10/26/16 It was not unusual to see Drone napping around the nesting grounds. He appeared as a spiny mountain jutting out from the boneyard. The dragons of The Cell took comfort in his presence as that of a watchful sentinel. With his tall stature he could scan the horizon for danger without lifting a wing in flight. It was when he would disappear that the clan was on edge; Drone loved to tunnel and whenever he was missing, there would sure enough be brittle ground or even deep craters in his wake. This made for a delightful method for turning small creatures into meat, but a perilous walk through clan territory.