Kanon
(#40367747)
Level 5 Coatl
Familiar
Fairy Octopus
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 47/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Shadow.
Female Coatl
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
7.71 m
Wingspan
9.13 m
Weight
740.43 kg
Genetics
Mist
Wasp
Wasp
Amethyst
Bee
Bee
Gloom
Glimmer
Glimmer
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 5 Coatl
EXP: 1081 / 5545
STR
6
AGI
7
DEF
6
QCK
7
INT
7
VIT
5
MND
6
Lineage
Parents
Offspring
- Vega
- Deneb
- Spellchanter
- Merona
- Scorpius
- Cassiopeia
- Caelestis
- Merope
- Calaeno
- Asterope
- Circinus
- Cetus
- Dorado
- Supernova
- Stella
- Neptune
- Carina
- Starlight
- Layet
- Lorewarden
- Planewalker
- Beefcake
- Sheik
- Sentry
- Tobias
- Unnamed
- Sloan
- Sigurd
- Pylos
- Unnamed
- Ayano
- Unnamed
- Radgar
- Skybolt
- Tosha
- Azure
- Mishka
- Blackhole
- Persimmon
- Astral
- Nightbloom
- Lantana
- Ichor
- Nocturne
- Skyfire
- Mok
- Strato
- Strata
- Aster
- Loisur
- Pascale
- Unnamed
Biography
Kanon joins the clan shaken and injured, led from one terrifying moment to another on the heels of a particularly unnerving skydancer. It goes like this:
Chainsaw finds her, escaped from another clan's exalting pillar and attempting to hide in the darkness between brambles. But her wings are snagged in the thorns and she can't get deep enough into the darkness to hide the star glow faintly radiating off of her. When she sees him eyeing her between the branches she panics. Starlight radiates out in a blinding flash and just as quickly dims back to a manageable level. Kanon is more brightly luminant than before, but no longer blinding. If she wasn’t tangled so mercilessly, she would have escaped in that moment of blindness. Her wings ache and her heart hammers dangerously in her chest as she heaves in great lungfuls of night air.
Chainsaw blinks a few times as though it wasn’t just light that blew out his vision momentarily. “You’re a star,” he says mildly. Not a question. Kanon hisses at him in reply. “And here I thought I’d get to send another offering to Mother tonight.”
“No!” She shouts, thrashes despite the tearing at her wings. If she never flies again it will be worth her life.
“Oh. No no, stop with all that,” he chides. “There’s only so much damage you can do before your wings become unsalvageable.” It doesn’t comfort her much and she can’t stop the miserable sound building in her throat. Chainsaw sighs and closes the rest of the distance between them. “Hold still,” tone gone sullen, “because I’m not interested in the hell I’ll get if I show up with you in tatters.”
Slowly, painfully, Chainsaw lifts the thorns from Kanon’s wings, bends the branches back and nudges them to curl up under the rest of the tangle of stems and vines. As her breath comes easier she feels the glowing heat of starlight dimming to its steady state. Eventually she asks, “What are you going to do with me?”
“Relax. I don’t exalt stars,” Chainsaw replies absently, attention focused entirely on the work of her damaged wings.
“What?”
“We have a damn galaxy living down below.” He taps the top of his foot against the damp soil to indicate literally below. “So. If you could just wait a bit on that panic you’re working yourself back into, I’ll take you to them.”
When she’s free, folding her injured wings against her sides as much as she can manage and following weakly behind him, Kanon asks, “Who are you?”
“The Raven Queen’s reaper. Chainsaw” They continue in silence but for Chainsaw’s tail swishing back and forth behind him, unmistakably irritated. Kanon’s thoughts cycle dizzyingly around a loop of pain, Reaper, pain, what does he mean by a galaxy, pain, pain, pain. In the path ahead a shadow resolves itself into a pink wildclaw in goggles (pink) and a cloak (also pink).
“Another exalt?”
“Another star.”
The wildclaw whistles, muses, “She doesn’t look well.” Peering over Chainsaw, she addresses Kanon directly. “You don’t look well.”
“She’s not,” Chainsaw mumbles, tail snapping through the air. “Where’s Coma at?”
“Where she always is. Dusk may be around too.”
“Do me a favor,” Chainsaw says rather than asks, “and send Fern or Magpie that way as soon as you can find them.”
“I’m on patrol.”
“Listen. Send someone else to get them then, I don’t care. But I swear to Mother, Hollykain,” Chainsaw punctuates his threat with a claw pointed at her sternum, “if I have to deal with an angry Coma because you dragged your tail, I’m exalting you next.”
The dragon--Hollykain--snorts a laugh through her nose, pushes his hand away. “Empty threats, friend.”
“Test me.”
Kanon watches the exchange as her anxiety redoubles. Her wings burn and the ache of holding them in a way that reduces the pain is making her vision swim. She staggers a little as she struggles to keep herself upright on buckling legs. Hollykain frowns, slips her goggles up onto her forehead and squints at Kanon.
With an exaggerated rolling of her eyes directed at Chainsaw, she surrenders the argument. “Fine, fine. Get going. I’ll send them to you.”
And so it is that she finds herself ducking into a strange lair warm like a hearthstone, greeted by a pair of coatls glowing faintly beneath their glittering silks. The one with wings ignited by galaxies stands to greet them, tuts sympathetically at the sight of her, “Oh, your poor wings. Come here so I can see them.”
Celestial cartographer and "finder"; skilled in dowsing and psychometry
Veil's mate
Bonded to Whirlpool
Chainsaw finds her, escaped from another clan's exalting pillar and attempting to hide in the darkness between brambles. But her wings are snagged in the thorns and she can't get deep enough into the darkness to hide the star glow faintly radiating off of her. When she sees him eyeing her between the branches she panics. Starlight radiates out in a blinding flash and just as quickly dims back to a manageable level. Kanon is more brightly luminant than before, but no longer blinding. If she wasn’t tangled so mercilessly, she would have escaped in that moment of blindness. Her wings ache and her heart hammers dangerously in her chest as she heaves in great lungfuls of night air.
Chainsaw blinks a few times as though it wasn’t just light that blew out his vision momentarily. “You’re a star,” he says mildly. Not a question. Kanon hisses at him in reply. “And here I thought I’d get to send another offering to Mother tonight.”
“No!” She shouts, thrashes despite the tearing at her wings. If she never flies again it will be worth her life.
“Oh. No no, stop with all that,” he chides. “There’s only so much damage you can do before your wings become unsalvageable.” It doesn’t comfort her much and she can’t stop the miserable sound building in her throat. Chainsaw sighs and closes the rest of the distance between them. “Hold still,” tone gone sullen, “because I’m not interested in the hell I’ll get if I show up with you in tatters.”
Slowly, painfully, Chainsaw lifts the thorns from Kanon’s wings, bends the branches back and nudges them to curl up under the rest of the tangle of stems and vines. As her breath comes easier she feels the glowing heat of starlight dimming to its steady state. Eventually she asks, “What are you going to do with me?”
“Relax. I don’t exalt stars,” Chainsaw replies absently, attention focused entirely on the work of her damaged wings.
“What?”
“We have a damn galaxy living down below.” He taps the top of his foot against the damp soil to indicate literally below. “So. If you could just wait a bit on that panic you’re working yourself back into, I’ll take you to them.”
When she’s free, folding her injured wings against her sides as much as she can manage and following weakly behind him, Kanon asks, “Who are you?”
“The Raven Queen’s reaper. Chainsaw” They continue in silence but for Chainsaw’s tail swishing back and forth behind him, unmistakably irritated. Kanon’s thoughts cycle dizzyingly around a loop of pain, Reaper, pain, what does he mean by a galaxy, pain, pain, pain. In the path ahead a shadow resolves itself into a pink wildclaw in goggles (pink) and a cloak (also pink).
“Another exalt?”
“Another star.”
The wildclaw whistles, muses, “She doesn’t look well.” Peering over Chainsaw, she addresses Kanon directly. “You don’t look well.”
“She’s not,” Chainsaw mumbles, tail snapping through the air. “Where’s Coma at?”
“Where she always is. Dusk may be around too.”
“Do me a favor,” Chainsaw says rather than asks, “and send Fern or Magpie that way as soon as you can find them.”
“I’m on patrol.”
“Listen. Send someone else to get them then, I don’t care. But I swear to Mother, Hollykain,” Chainsaw punctuates his threat with a claw pointed at her sternum, “if I have to deal with an angry Coma because you dragged your tail, I’m exalting you next.”
The dragon--Hollykain--snorts a laugh through her nose, pushes his hand away. “Empty threats, friend.”
“Test me.”
Kanon watches the exchange as her anxiety redoubles. Her wings burn and the ache of holding them in a way that reduces the pain is making her vision swim. She staggers a little as she struggles to keep herself upright on buckling legs. Hollykain frowns, slips her goggles up onto her forehead and squints at Kanon.
With an exaggerated rolling of her eyes directed at Chainsaw, she surrenders the argument. “Fine, fine. Get going. I’ll send them to you.”
And so it is that she finds herself ducking into a strange lair warm like a hearthstone, greeted by a pair of coatls glowing faintly beneath their glittering silks. The one with wings ignited by galaxies stands to greet them, tuts sympathetically at the sight of her, “Oh, your poor wings. Come here so I can see them.”
Celestial cartographer and "finder"; skilled in dowsing and psychometry
Veil's mate
Bonded to Whirlpool
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This dragon doesn't eat Plants.
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Exalting Kanon to the service of the Shadowbinder 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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