Evanna

Far along the Isle's northern edge, nestled in the sandy sweeps that hem close to her jungles, the Labyrinth scatters the fragments of her underground. So go the stories, at least; they say the Behemoth's roots, ever-questing, pried the stones from the earth so she could carve rivers. It's hard to imagine that now. They're gigantic things, crusted with generations of seaweed and barnacles. New jungles spring up from the seabird guano, as lush as any on the mainland, and in time the accumulation of flotsam, sand, and kelp may make islands of them. For now they call them Sentinel Stones.

Evanna is their outrider, a perennial guide past the sandbars and sunken ships. Her lair is somewhere in the outer rootbeds. She's just as content to rest on the Sentinels, though, listening to the crashing surf and seabirds. Her connection to Castoff is somewhat tenuous, as many are, though its location along the rootbed artery running due south--or as due south as the root maze can manage--makes it a good stopoff point. She's easy friends with Riptooth (whose fascination with the Outer Ocean nearly outstrips Evanna's eagerness to discuss it) and Hyrophia (who finds in her a kindred spirit balanced between two Flights). Mostly, though, Evanna is content to keep to herself. While she does find joy in guiding ships and dragons alike, it's done less for their sake. She's just happy for a paid excuse to fly through the waves. She'd be happy, she thinks, to be reborn as one; to live as seaspray caught on the wind or to be a wave cresting turquoise as the sun strikes through it. Perhaps, she thinks, as she rests with claws folded, eyes half-closed to the nebulae above, perhaps I will.


G1 from MarinaQuackenbush. You should check out their lair!