Seymour
(#3775166)
Level 1 Imperial
Familiar
Wispwillow Peryton
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Ice.
Male Imperial
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
26.21 m
Wingspan
16.24 m
Weight
8123.72 kg
Genetics
Midnight
Iridescent
Iridescent
Storm
Shimmer
Shimmer
Ice
Underbelly
Underbelly
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Imperial
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
6
AGI
6
DEF
6
QCK
5
INT
8
VIT
8
MND
6
Biography
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Seymour
Artist | shy, sweet, and selfless
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"Seymour."
The word was quite, barely above a whisper, but it still made Seymour jump and shiver with fright. A thousands panicked-driven thoughts run through his mind, paralyzing him for a slip of a second, before he forced himself to calm down and realized that the voice calling his name was familiar and there was nothing to fear.
Hunched and with his tail between his legs, Seymour slowly turned around, and only when he saw Sabbathiel, he let his muscles relax again.
"Hi," he said in a greeting to his skydancer mate.
His teeth bared in a shy smile and Sabbathiel returned the gesture easily.
"Hi to you, too."
She was always so gentle with him. Seymour didn't know what he had done to deserve such a good and understanding mate. He knew that there was something wrong with him. Imperials weren't supposed to be cowards. But Seymour couldn't help it. He was afraid. He was afraid of his own size and strength, afraid that he will hurt someone, afraid of losing control and becoming a monster.
And Seymour didn't want to be a monster.
"How was your day?" Sabbathiel asked, pulling him out of his thoughts.
She moved closer, her slender tail swinging behind her, and Seymour's ears dropped down in an anticipation of Sabbathiel's touch.
"I... Good, I think," he answered while Sabbathiel nuzzled her head against his neck. A low whine escaped his mouth and he heard his mate chuckled slightly.
Seymour's whiskers twitched. He took a big sniff and frowned when he smelled a scent he did not recognized.
"Do we have a new clanmate?" he asked.
Sabbathiel took care of every newcomer as well as every hatchling born in their clan, but as far as Seymour remembered, no one was currently nesting.
The skydancer tensed up.
"...Something like that," she explained at last. "Don't worry. I will tell you about it later."
Seymour trusted his mate and so he didn't question the matter any further. He nodded to let her know he understood.
"Now, I think you were telling me about your day."
Right. Seymour tried to recall his day.
"Well, I've almost finished the plans for the next expansion. Fairly easy stuff this time - some upgrades for the Celestial Alley, more room for food storage and a new branch of private lairs on the upper level," Seymour went on. "I've dyed the new entrance banners as well. They should dry in a few hours and the symbols can be painted then and- Oh! Before I forget..."
The Imperial untangled himself from Sabbathiel and turn around, moving to his working desk.
"I remember you said you will be sending, um, a letter to, you know, the boy."
Seymour felt awkward just starting the topic. He never made contact with any of his and Sabbathiel's children. He was- He was too afraid he would harm the little things. Sabbathiel was hurt by it, he knew that, but she never said something.
Really, she is just too good for him sometimes.
"...and I, I know that he doesn't even know me- I mean, he knows who I am, but, you know. I-I..."
A hand was put on his wing and Sabbathiel began to gently rub the thick skin of its membrane and lightly scratch it with her talons.
"I know," she said, reassuring him.
Seymour took a deep breath. It’s okay. She knows. He picked something from the worktop and cradled it between his clawed hands. Then he turned back to his mate. He began to miss the heat on his wing the moment Sabbathiel’s hand fell down from his skin.
"I made something. For him. I mean, to give him. From you. As a, um," he looked for a right word. Sometimes they just slipped from his mind.
"A gift?" Sabbathiel suggested.
He nodded. His ears still stayed low. His horns were itching.
They will shed soon, he thought absently.
Sabbathiel smiled at him. It was a bright and wide smile that made Seymour fell in love with her back when they'd first met. She puffed her chest and her wings shifted behind her excitedly.
Oh. Seymour felt the scales on his face and neck heat up. She's excited to see it. What if it will disappoint her? A new sort of panic started to bloom in his chest and suddenly he wished he never got the idea to make the damned thing.
It was too late now. Sabbathiel reached to take Seymour's hands into hers. Gently, she spread them open and what she saw inside, made her coo.
"Oh my. It's beautiful."
She picked the gift from his hands and brought it before her face to examine it closer. It was a doll of a Flamecaller, carefully crafted by her mate. Sabbathiel was a devoted follower, even though she was a lightning-born.
"It's fireproof, of course. Not that it matters. There's not much fire in the isles. I think."
Seymour had never seen the place. He wasn't the member of the clan back when it was still located in the Reaches. It was a short-lived situation, anyway.
"Who knows?" Sabbathiel smiled. "Maybe he came to control his inner fire? Maybe he found his voice and learnt how to call the flames?"
Her voice turned melancholic. She must have heard it because she stopped herself before it could make her mate uncomfortable. She looked up from the doll and brought up her wings to brush her primary feathers along Seymour's neck.
"Thank you so much. It's lovely. I'm sure he will appreciate it. Even if the Flamecaller no longer is the one who watches over him."
Seymour nodded and looked away.
"I will write to him now. I also have a few things I want to send along with the letter. And I believe the Ephorate has some business with his clan, too, so I will bring it to Dumah when I'm done. I will be back later tonight, okay?”
She looked at him, patiently waiting for his response.
Seymour gulped and nodded again.
"Okay," he mumbled.
Sabbathiel shot him one last smile and walked out of the room. Seymour tried to remember what he was doing before she startled him. Whatever it was, it will be much more pleasantly doing it while his mate’s flowery scent was hanging in the air.
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Mate: Sabbathiel
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Exalting Seymour to the service of the Flamecaller 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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