Snowy
(#42596494)
Level 1 Tundra
Familiar
Emeraldback Shardspawn
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 48/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Water.
Male Tundra
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
2.66 m
Wingspan
3.57 m
Weight
214.06 kg
Genetics
Orca
Bar
Bar
Orca
Daub
Daub
Ice
Thylacine
Thylacine
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Tundra
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
7
AGI
6
DEF
6
QCK
5
INT
7
VIT
7
MND
7
Biography
  
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Snowy | Wanderer Quiet | Loyal | Adventurous
Relations:
Foxglove Despite their long separation and his abandoning her, he still holds a soft fondness for the traits which made him adore her. He does not know how he'd react if he met her again, and in some ways, dreads that very thing happening. Ysandre He holds a deep respect for the clan Matriarch. Having known several kinds of rulers, he's glad she's the one in charge. He can tell at a glance that she has the leadership skills needed to lead them successfully. Her kindness in taking him in when he had nowhere to go back to has made him loyal beyond belief. Sythlar He suspects what she truly is, but knowing a great deal about Snowfolk, he has made no effort to reveal her or reveal his knowing to her. He does have a great deal of respect, however, as he can tell she is a Queen and is aware of just how different she is to Foxglove. Janka While Janka shares few traits with her mother, he can tell by her magic and certain behaviours of hers that she is every inch Foxglove's daughter. While he feels slightly betrayed by knowing Foxglove has likely had consorts after him, he nonetheless treats her kindly and attempts - awkwardly, every now and again - to teach her about the world and what he has learned.
Snowy is a dragon with a heavy history. Long before he joined Ysandre's clan, he was born to a pair of dragons whom had held many secrets from each other. While one parent had been a regular dragon, his other had been, in secret, a Snowfolk - a spirit of ice and snow which had hidden among the dragons of his home clan.
In his youth, Snowy, despite his namesake, had found himself unable to claim his heritage. No matter how he tried, the water he produced with his magic was never anything but water; no amount of focus or study could turn it into ice, and the barrier it created between him and his family caused him to seek solace elsewhere. However, with the lineage of the snowfolk flowing through him, he never did feel comfortable in the warm waters of his homeland. Thus, he travelled south to colder lands, where - in some ways - he could pretend his magic was ice rather than water. He travelled for years, learning quickly the self-sufficiency any nomadic dragon would. As the boreal forests cut away to tundra and then further to the ice-slick frost of the deepest corners of the Southern Icefields, he found himself no longer troubled by the disappointments he'd incurred from his parents - as the memories had faded - and suddenly wanting companionship. It was then that Snowy met Foxglove. Foxglove was a prideful and powerful Snowfolk, there was never a doubt about that. However, there was an enchantment in her beliefs, a strength and steel in her speech which often defied the sly, musical nature of Snowfolk's voices, and beyond that, a frantic devotion to the life into which she had been born. When Snowy met her, as a mere drifter with enough Snowfolk in him to resist the lures, he was nonetheless swept up into Foxglove's eager pursuits. She spoke of a nation, someday as strong as any draconic following, which existed in the snow and found strength in unity. It took little for him to follow her back down to the boreal woods, where she found a unique outcropping of trees and a tall, icy mountain, all of which she claimed as her own - as the starting point of a new land. Snowy worked for a long many days, writing messages and travelling out to retrieve one snowfolk or another. Before he knew it, there were hundreds under their protection, and he was standing at the side of the nexus of a snowstorm. The closer she came to her dream, the more frantic she became, and he found himself practically flung into standing by her at her coronation. It happened one eve as he was resting beside Foxglove, watching over their eggs. He was quite suddenly aware that this was the only quiet moment he'd had since he'd met Foxglove, and was likely the only one he'd had for many years. Turning to their nest, he paused. Foxglove had spoken long the day before of their heirs, children who would someday be the King or Queen of the nation she had built. Somehow, somewhere along the way, he had lost himself in the storm, and even as close to Foxglove as he was, he was still being swept around at her whim. Shaking himself gently free of the soft cushioning of their beddings, he rose to his feet and stumbled over to his possessions. They were still as meager as the day he had arrived - had he really found nothing in the years he had spent there? For a moment, he set a reluctant gaze on Foxglove, still sleeping restfully. Then, turning away, he dropped low and began to dash through the snow between the trees, leaving no footprints behind him. It took three days for him to be found again. Battling through the snow was both harder and easier than ever. The longer he walked, the less he stumbled, and when he finally encountered a dragon again, he was walking as easily as if he were back on the sands of the Ocean where he'd grown up. At first, he almost missed her; the fae was the smallest dragon he had ever seen, and only her warm colouration and striking outfit stood out enough to catch his eye. When he caught sight of her, she approached him swiftly, hovering before him and seemingly judging him. "Good afternoon," she finally said, raising her goggles to look him in the eye. "How should I address you?" "Snowy," he replied, somewhat bewildered. "Yes, I can see you are," she stated dryly, glancing down at the snow-laden fur around his paws. "Let me rephrase; What's your name?" "Er, my name is Snowy," he answered, somewhat awkwardly. She laughed. "Snowy it is. Snowy, I am Okelo, Herald of the clan Maroke, and I believe it's about time you met our matriarch," she commented, "considering you have been walking around our territory for two days straight." Snowy laughed nervously and followed Okelo inside. Thankfully, Ysandre, the matriarch, was less terrifying than he had thought she might be. Ysandre was a brilliant tundra. She radiated leadership, but unlike the frantic and unhidden energy of Foxglove, the tundra's prescence was comforting and companionable. She was not a Queen, he could tell by her bearing - she was instead simply someone with a duty to balance. She appeared to be doing so admirably, from the sheer certainty in her face. "You smell like friendship," he offered as greeting, carefully considering the amusement dancing in the tundra's eyes. "And you look lost," replied the tundra, her amusement being voiced. "I am Ysandre, matriarch of clan Maroke." "Snowy," he said in return, releasing a cool breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "I guess I am a bit lost." "Follow me into our caverns, then," she replied, nodding towards one of the carved paths. "Maybe you'll find something here." Snowy smiled. "Maybe I will." Turning around, Ysandre began to walk. Okelo glanced between them before fluttering ahead down the path. "Come along, then, join us," she suggested, and he scrambled to catch up with her. "You can tell us your story over dinner."  Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary. I felt myself enlightened and so went and faced the cold.
These are his meagre belongings:
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Exalting Snowy to the service of the Icewarden 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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