CyanMoo » Lair » Millie

Millie

(#37547307)

Level 1 Coatl

Familiar

Marble Lightweaver

Energy: 48/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

8.09 m

Wingspan

7.55 m

Weight

702.29 kg

Genetics

Terracotta
Cherub

Gold
Butterfly

Sanddollar
Glimmer

Hatchday

Nov 23, 2017
(6 years)

Breed

Adult
Coatl

Eye Type

Light
Common

Level 1 Coatl

EXP: 0 / 245

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Offspring

Biography

Mille

lore written by Tues
In a deep, deep forest, there is a hut. It is a small hut, with a roof made from the roots of trees willingly coaxed into place, with broad leaves woven between to seal out the elements. Its door is little more than a sheet of bark, wiggling with the slightest breeze were it not for the vines that hold it in place, opening, loosening only for the right touch. And the path to the hut is little more than a track in the undergrowth, worn from years of use, patient and calm, waiting for the moment it is no longer trod upon, the moment it can continue to grow properly once more. It makes the hut a wild place, yet somehow tame, a space where nature is free to do as it likes, but within odd limits.

And in that hut in the deep, deep forest, where nature is and isn't free, there is a dragon.
(Scroll past art to continue on with the lore)

Millie has lived in her tiny forest quarters longer than some dragons of the nearby clans can remember. It's as if she's a part of the forest, a piece of it that sprung up in the shape of a dragon and stayed that way. There are stories that her bright orange scales are actually made from fallen autumn leaves, stitched into a suit of armor, and that her golden wings are spider silk of the rarest sort, woven into the perfect kites for early evening flight. Even dragons who know her to be flesh and blood find her to be something of a local fable; how else could she live her quiet, isolated existence with so little trouble, so little upset? Everything in Millie's life appears from the outside as perfectly ordered, gently convinced to adhere to some careful structure.

And even the inside of her hut is neat and tidy. The shelves are sorted with impeccable care, the size of the spines uniform by shelf, the scrolls stacked in stable pyramids. Little pots serve as bookends, with the leafy plants inside caressing the books they guard. More than one visitor has hesitated to explore Millie's library for fear that the potted plants might suddenly move, barring the way, or perhaps worse.

The only source of untidiness is her cat, Poco, who has free run of the hut and its surrounding area. He drifts in and out, a sprightly orange shadow most often found in Millie's wake, and wherever he goes, a fine dusting of cat fur is often left behind. Nothing else is out of place, though, not even when Poco winds his way between fragile herb pots on high shelves, or when he scampers through the garden out back, in which Millie's favorite seasonal specimens grow. He seems like his owner, in that he keeps a tidy home, and that his each and every one of his movements is a deliberate, meticulous act.

And yet they both shed their pleasant, patient shells when danger arises. Millie's existence is not unknown to local clans, and when illness or injury threatens, she is often the first dragon called upon for aid. In these moments, she becomes an entirely different dragon, and her hut seems to come alive with her. Treatises fly from the shelves, salves spring from the cupboards, and utensils heat themselves over a roaring fire to burn away anything that would keep them from perfect sterility. Then comes the cauldron, bubbling and boiling with whatever herbs Millie has determined will be useful this time. By the time she has gone to see to the issue at hand and then returned, her concoction will be ready, and it will not be wrong.

The local clans whisper about her uncanny sense for choosing the right remedy, even before she has seen to her patients. They whisper, but they do nothing, because why would they try to stop a dragon who has saved so many lives over the years? Let her be uncanny, they think, because it works in their favor every time.

And Millie certainly doesn't mind. She hardly wants to see anyone suffer, and if the knowledge she possesses can save a life, or even ease someone's discomfort, then she's more than happy to share it. Like growing a garden one careful step at a time, taking care of a community requires a certain patience and tenderness, but the results are worth every moment.

And yet they both shed their pleasant, patient shells when danger arises. Millie's existence is not unknown to local clans, and when illness or injury threatens, she is often the first dragon called upon for aid. In these moments, she becomes an entirely different dragon, and her hut seems to come alive with her. Treatises fly from the shelves, salves spring from the cupboards, and utensils heat themselves over a roaring fire to burn away anything that would keep them from perfect sterility. Then comes the cauldron, bubbling and boiling with whatever herbs Millie has determined will be useful this time. By the time she has gone to see to the issue at hand and then returned, her concoction will be ready, and it will not be wrong.

Besides, there are quiet moments, and plenty of them. Millie spends most of her days divided between her gardens and her library. They are both critical to her research on the herbs of Sornieth, some found far from her home and others endemic to the area, and she enjoys spending her day in the sun, tending tiny sprouts, or in the cozy walls of her home, quill and scroll at hand as she takes notes and brainstorms for research yet to come.

Bio Template by @Husky. All Resources And Art Link Back to Creators

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Exalting Millie to the service of the Lightweaver 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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