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Personal Style


Violet Wing Garland
Druid's Woodtreads
Tigerlily Lei




3.01 m
2.6 m
84.54 kg


Primary Gene
Secondary Gene
Tertiary Gene


Aug 02, 2018
(5 years)



Eye Type

Eye Type
Level 18 Spiral
EXP: 53787 / 92435
Rune Slash



Writing Doodles for My Noodles-

Her arm & legs wings still exist, but her back wings don't. Because of this, she can't fly.

"Snake" is no insult to my kind. Yes, I am a "snake." Yes, I will wrap myself about you; yes, I will feign affection; yes, I will sink my fangs into your throat.

But that is merely what I do. Do I behave like a snake? Yes. Undeniably, yes.

After that sound, the world seemed to fall silent. The sound of wings ripping. The sounds of screaches. The sounds of battle.
Terror filled the eyes of a dragon as she was crushed under the weight of a dragon, unable to get away. After a while, she laughed like she was crazy.
This was the end, wasn’t it?

Sinclair was naturally curled about the trunk of an old, unidentified tree. Perhaps it was an oak. It really didn't matter to her.
She shifted, her body slipping over the rough bark, unhindered. She now coiled about an extended branch, and rested there, thoughtfully. The spiral ignored the hunger that consumed her, hissing.
Her next target was a tundra, her least favorite type of dragon to attack. Their massive heaps of fur always got in the way of a killing bite. They weren't her least favorite in general, however. Guardians won that role.
She slithered down the old tree, and landed on the mossy forest floor. She looked around the forest. There were a few squirrels, but she knew she wouldn't be able catch them.
She hadn't had a squirrel ever since the day she lost her wings. She remembered the battle like it was yesterday.
She was wrapped around the guardians neck, tightly, choking her. Her jaw was unhinged, ready for a killing blow. As her head swiftly darted to meet the guardians' most vital neck organ, there was a horrid sounding tearing sound. It took the spiral a few moments to register the pain. The feeling of her wing being ripped off caused her to miss the trachea. She knew the bite wasn't fatal. They both knew.
The spiral drew back once more, but the guardian was tearing more of the spiral's wings into shreds. There was no way the spiral would ever fly again. With a horrifying screech, the spiral launched her head forwards, this time without missing. The guardian stumbled, and the spiral tried to fly away so she wouldn't be crushed, but without wings, she failed. The heavy guardian fell on top of her, and she struggled under her weight.
Hours after struggling, she gave up. A dragon without wings was useless anyways, in her mind. She laid limply, barely breathing.
Two days later, a wildclaw walked past, and helped her. He was killed, since he saw the scene. And, she wasn't feeling up to all his questions.
She looked back up at the squirrels. Her freedom was taken away from her. If she had no freedom, then other dragons shouldn't either.
She even left her mate, since he was a guardian.

Sinclair rested in a tree above her target, a mid-aged light brown tundra. This one didn't have much fur. Must be in a summer coat. Client said they were male, and seems like they were right. She knew this was them. The image of the tundra flashed in her head. She coiled up her body, ready to strike at the tundra. A squirrel ran on the same branch as her, and disturbed the leaves.
Right before the Tundra looked up, she launched herself at his neck.
She didn't land on a fluffy coat, however. Her body slammed on the ground, and she withered under the tundra’s claws.
"Why did you try to attack me?" The tundra asked, wearing a calm expression. She looked at him, shocked for a second. When he drew closer for an answer, she snapped at him. His expression didn't change. She was never caught by a victim.
"What's wrong with you?!" The spiral shouted. "Kill me already," The spiral hissed in a challenging tone.
"No," He glared at her. "I will not give you what you wish for. You don't deserve to die."
The spiral stared blankly. Did he pity her?
"Wimp," She hissed coldy. "You can't even kill someone who tried to kill you."
When he shuddered slightly, she had a ping of emotion. Perhaps pity, or sorrow. She quickly ridded of it, knowing that emotion was weakness.
The two stood silently. After the one emotion came more, and she tried to feign her affection for the tundra.
"Why?" Her voice trembled, yet was still broad and threatening. "Why am I still here?" Her voice was on the edge of breaking.
"You matter," She squirmed away from him. Now the fool was making her embarrassed. "No matter what you say. Someone cares, no matter what," His warmth covered her now, his fur touching her scales. She huffed in his face, but he didn't move.
She still felt odd. When he edged towards her slightly, she struggled away, but to no avail.
"Why do you do this to yourself? There are other ways to live," He whispered. "What are you afraid of?"
"I'm not afraid of anything!" She spat, and tried to whack the tundra with her horns. He lifted his head away.
"The clans would accept you. You are an exceptional hunter, and would provide good protection as a warrior," He looked at her warmly. "Is that what you are afraid of?"
"... How do you know that I'm a good hunter?" She tried to change the subject from her fear.
"You can climb trees without wings. That means something. But, if that is your fear, your absence of wings will not affect you or your role in a clan," Sinclair stayed silent.
"I'll think about it," she hissed. He lifted his talons, but that wasn't a good idea. She darted for his neck, wrapping around it. She coiled tighter.
"You… snake…" The tundra gasped for breath.
" 'Snake' is no insult to my kind. Yes, I am a 'snake.' Yes, I will wrap myself about you; yes, I will feign affection; yes, I will sink my fangs into your throat.
But that is merely what I do. Do I behave like a snake? Yes. Undeniably, yes." And with that, she snapped his spine. She skillfully dodged his falling body, having done it plenty of times before, and loomed over his body.
"You made me feel… emotion," She hissed at the limp body, lying lifelessly on the ground. "That was not meant to happen. Goodbye," She slithered into the shadows without turning back and left the body on the moss covered ground.

Sinclair's bones ached from walking instead of flying. The amount of times she nearly died slowly increased, and if the spiral wasn't as convincing as she was, there would be no way she would still be alive. Some of her scars were still bleeding from some of her worst battles.
She curled up around a rock, her spine crackling against the chalky surface. There was no way she was going to kill easily in this condition, but she had to. She was still a force to be reckoned with, for that matter. It was how she lived. It was how she breathed. She flexed, stretching her muscles, then relaxing them again. She was much paler than before, back when she had wings.
She was cold, starving, and killing for a living. Her mental state was almost as bad as her physical state, and her emotions have completely gone. She wished she had accepted the tundra's request many years ago.
The sound of her own wings tearing rung in her ears, and she went weeks without a single moment of rest. Her scales were hard yet were slowly shattering, and her underbelly was fragile and soft. She looked rabid. Her eyes glistened with a savage hatred and a need to kill at the sight of a guardian. She had a tendency to kill guardians on site.
She was wondering Dragonhome, the lands of the Earthshaker. She was in a horrid mood, her head swaying side to side like that of a snake who was ready to strike down her prey.
Conveniently, a mirror walked by. His head was held high, and he wore the skull of an animal. His clean, brown and gold scales only drove the anger and thirst to kill within her. Her mind swirled, wondering why her scales weren't glistening like his.
With a hiss, she hurled herself at him. The hiss alerted him, however, and she met his claws. He delicately placed her on the ground, his claws narrowly avoiding puncturing her soft underscales.
She simply laughed hysterically at him, and bit his leg. He yowled quietly, but didn’t attack her.
The mirror lifted away the bird-like skull that covered his face, revealing a concerned expression with a cocked eyebrow.
"What happened to you?" He asked, but it didn't look like he expected an answer. The spiral snapped at him, and he quickly jumped backwards.
It was now a brawl. The two circled each other, giving deadly gares. When Sinclair felt like she had sized him up enough, she hurled herself towards him, her arms outstretched. An ear piercing yowl came from her opponent as her claws collided with his face. He barely landed a claw on her when she gorged out his eye. She spat it out, her teeth gleaming and stained red.
The mirror fell back, and reached for the skull he always wore.
Sinclair made it there first, however. She curled around it, and crushed it with ease.
Not a single word came from the mirror. No. He was only glaring with his one eye, hissing violently. He only stopped hissing when the spiral chuckled lightly. She smiled, an insane glint in her eyes.
"You truly think you can kill me!" She exclaimed, speaking in between her laughter. "Adorable, I must say,"
The mirror huffed, staring at the spiral with anger.
"Ohh, have I gotten you rallied up? Please, put up an actual fight!" She weaved her way under him, and racked his stomach.
Before she was able to get up, he kicked his right on her wings. Yowling, she slithered up his back and wrapped around his wings, biting them furiously. She barely broke the membrane before she was thrown off.
She slithered a safe distance away, and they circled again.
"You're a good fighter, huh?" The spiral huffed. She was becoming tired of this battle. The mirror simply smiled, his one eye still gushing blood. Complementing one in battle was considered dishonorable to the spiral, and she looked at him with disgust.
Without care, she lurched herself at him, hissing madly.
"Disgrace!" She yelled, wrapping herself strongly around both his torso and neck, constricting more and more and lashing at his neck.
He grunted in pain, his claws reaching up to attempt to pry her off of him. His claws dug into her underbelly, causing her to screech in pain. He dug his claws deeper at the sound, as he gasped for air, unable to breath.

Art by royal-chimera on DA
Art by LemonsSharks
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