Pops

Mated to Blossom.

Second clan biologist, specializing in fungi. Is... she even really a dragon anymore? She acts a bit.. Odd.

Does she really look like this, or is it just a trick of the eyes? None of the other dragons have seemed to notice anything different.

Liquid bubbles in her throat as she rasps. Her steps are heavy, all peeling claws and labored breathing. It’s becoming almost eerie how nobody in the Clan acknowledges this, replying to barely-understandable gurgles with casual greetings and a smile. None of them are aware they’re simply carrying on one-sided conversations with the withered, disease-ridden husk of what was once the mycologist. (Days spent pouring over different plants with deft paws by the soft blue light of Arcane mushrooms slowly became long hours of unresponsive staring at the wall in the mold and rot, air heavy with spores. The light has long since been choked out.)

She fades in and out of lucidity.