Epidote

"There will be peace when I stop dancing"

Perhaps the most chaotic of the court, or in fact the Clan itself, this pretty pink serpent takes great delight in painting himself and any 'stage' he dances on red. Luckily for the Lair, he was as susceptible to the newborn Queen as his peers. Before her birth he had been confined to the sprawling outer garden, patrolling the edges of Generosity's forest and killing whatever he could catch while remaining a social outcast from even the calamitous dwellers and capable witches of the Savage Garden. A standoffish and vicious personality who had no interest in addressing his solitude or aloneness as long as there were creatures to rend open with his claws.

Until every feather in his crest felt Her.... and subsequently a bone crushing agony that was the slither of Her deep magic enveloping all the parts of himself he worked so very hard to avoid and ignore. She dragged forth his loneliness and his fears, pulled out into the forefront of his thoughts how lost and afraid and abandoned he felt. Before even the first word escaped Her freshly hatched body, before ever he saw her gangly adolescent form, before he knew what had occured within the Lair who had shut him out... She laid claim on him and demanded his Loyalty and Honesty.

He gave it. She was irresistible, this force that had dove within him and overtaken his thoughts, dragged forth his fears and brought him to the ground with power he scarcely knew the scope of. Who was he before he had felt her, after all, but a ruin of a killer, a lonesome beast roaming a pretense of feral in someone else's Lair... Who was he, he spent weeks asking himself, thinking with himself. Who was he? It bothered him that the question wouldn't leave, it was as much his own as it was Hers.