Frida
(#36914306)
Level 1 Fae
Familiar
Hurricane Herald
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 50/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Wind.
Female Fae
This dragon is hibernating.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
1.07 m
Wingspan
1.23 m
Weight
0.95 kg
Genetics
Pear
Iridescent
Iridescent
Maize
Basic
Basic
Honeydew
Contour
Contour
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Fae
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
5
AGI
8
DEF
5
QCK
6
INT
8
VIT
5
MND
8
Biography
| ==== |
A warm wind fluttered Frida’s winds. Perched atop a slab of stone amongst a sea of bamboo shoots, she stood on her hind legs and gazed longingly in the distance. She caught sight of the enormous kites that beckoned her closer. She refused the invitation but stepped closer to the edge of the floating disks, welcoming the gale. To Frida, each warm breeze felt like a longing kiss sent from afar, and her mind quickly took her to images of Felix. Too often she longed to bury herself in his dense, dark green and pink fur, but she often swept the tendrils of passion away. He was out there, in the vast world with the Windsinger, and the Fae could see no greater calling than that. Emerson and Harland were out there too, her two sons. Frida was a proud mother, not missing any chance to praise her family, reminding any and all dragons of the honor that surged deep within her bones. A scurrying sound pulled her back to the present moment. When she turned around, her laughter filled the air. “Adelaide, do you ever ask for help?” She hid the worry in her tone. The Spiral female dragged a mass of sticks, fabric and thick wires. She looked back at her mother and smirked, exposing a thin line of sharp teeth. “Only when it’s necessary.” her voice took on a glossy tune. Frida didn’t move from her spot. If her daughter wanted the challenge then she would enjoy the display. Adelaide was known to be a hardworking artist. While normally calm and distinctively quiet, she also had a way of standing out whenever one of her projects came to life. She scurried around the entanglement of bright green and dull orange fabric, pulling from one corner, pushing another. Frida didn’t utter a word, not until it all started tipping from comical to disastrous. “I’m still here.” the Fae reminded. “I’m good, I’m good!” “You’re as stubborn as James' Fox!” Frida laughed, approaching her daughter’s latest art project. It seemed to be a kite of some sort, but it was impossible to distinguish its shape. “He’s not stubborn, just… forgetful.” “I’ve yet to see the difference.” she rolled his eyes and pulled back once more. Her figure was statuesque, and she didn’t lift a finger to offer any help. If Adelaide wanted to do things on her own then she was more than welcome to, and alternatively if she wanted to struggle onward then that was also her choice. After some time, Frida returned to the edge of the disk, looking up at the joyful kites that offered some semblance of shade with their intricate waltz. She stretched out her wings, her honeydew contour losing itself among her soft green colors. Much could be said about the mother’s beauty and when she welcomed sun rays on her iridescent skin she reminded of the ancient beauty of the Cloudsong. One step and she was soon riding the breeze. Her flight stood out in her clan, there was a stoicism in her unmatched by even the most experienced of warriors. Her neck extended, her frills wavering in complacent waves, Frida twisted and turned higher and higher towards the clouds. “Will you make me into one of your kites?” She called back down. “You so often fly around them, what’s the point?” Adelaide laughed, it was all in good fun. “If you take a flower out of a pot, do you stop watering it?” Frida dived back down, hovering but a few feet above her daughter’s serpentine’s body. “I’ve not a clue what that means…” She admitted, pouting. “Neither do I, but it sounded clever!” Frida responded, dipping down to nip the younger ones ear playfully. Despite her general appearance and persona, she often had bursts of affection towards her only remaining daughter. With her sons and mate gone to serve the Windsinger, she sipped as much comfort and love as she could from Adelaide and it was clear to see that their bond was unmatched. “Where’s James?” “Out to gather, I assume. He was there one moment, gone the next.” “Maybe you mean to say you got too caught up in your project and missed him?” Frida reminded her daughter. Adelaide had a way of tunnelling her vision sometimes. “Oh…” “Oh indeed.” the Fae flipped in the wind and dashed down, catching the fabric in her claws. “Wait, don’t do that!” Adelaide tried to use her tail to swat her mother away, but it wasn’t long before the gale swept up her creation. It seemed to know how to rearrange the fabric and twigs and before long a Spiral shaped kite graced their presence. “You’ve done well.” Frida complimented, and while it didn’t sound like much, her daughter knew there was pride sewn in there. Together they worked on repositioning the kite, brought it higher and higher so it could join all the others. Frida basked in the feeling that one of her own was leaving a mark on the world- and what a splendid mark it was. Soon all the hatchlings would try out their wings with a new toy, and she would watch them as she always did from her little lair. There was never a lonely time when Adelaide was close by and when the kites welcomed her every morning for a little bit of practice. “I would like to see your father’s kite up there one day.” “Don’t spoil a surprise!” Adelaide gasped. “I think you just did.” Frida and the Spiral sat and watched the display for a little bit longer in contemplative silence. It wasn’t long until she found herself alone again. She loosened the scarf from around her neck and prepared herself a banquet of insects for a late lunch. Critters of all sorts tried to run away from her, but her elongated fingers and sharp eyes caught each one. It was very much unlike her to play with her food, but could it really be considered childish if she ran after her meal? Short bursts of wind pushed back whichever creature momentarily escaped her. Her hurricane Herald sent them flying back, showing his loyalty and friendship with not words but actions. Sometimes, those spoke louder to Frida, who didn’t let her tongue loose to just any outsider, momentary or otherwise. It blinked and the Fae saw a familiarity there, in the companion’s less abundant facial features, that she both respected and found incredibly endearing. Why else would she chose to spend her time with the herald? “Want some?” She asked, holding up a monumentally juicy grub. The herald blinked, slowly holding up the parchment that never left its side. It pointed to it with suspicion, as if Frida was the one missing something, not him. “Your loss.” Her voice was swift but melodic. It always felt… motherly, to offer something to chew on to the Herald. After having spent so much time together she had yet to see her familiar eat anything. A wild guess of hers was that there was something magical in the parchment itself that was sustaining the glowing green gust of wind. The Herald kept reading but Firda, with all her affinity to magic, could never decipher the words on the paper. More than that, some days there were no words at all that she could tell yet her tiny friend seemed ever so passionate about it anyway. A mystery she had not yet cracked, but perhaps she was right on the verge of. As the day went on the Fae liked to linger around her friends and their nests. It was always a bit of an internal game with her, wondering which of the next hatchlings might spread their wings for the Windsinger and which might settle down and start families of their own. She had a lot to teach the little ones both about what it was like to look after a home and what it felt like to have two of her children away from her watchful gaze. They often asked about whether or not she missed them, and she always reminded them that their deity was as much a parent as she was, so she was never worried about them.
None could have ever said that Frida wasn’t a one of a kind dragon. The tiny figure but imposing movements set her apart. She took care of the lair and spread wisdom to all those around her. There hadn’t an inch of her that wasn’t devoted to the lands she had grown up in. She was elegant but whimsical, clever yet humble and her stoic approach to life, for those outside her tight circle made her into a mysterious lady. She bore the Wind’s emblem with courage and longed for the moments, days, months when she could spread her knowledge and wit across the Plateau. | ==== |
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Exalting Frida to the service of the Windsinger 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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