Hierscht

HIERSCHT |
Bitter | Loyal | Regal

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-Was born in the Light territory, but was mocked for her dark appearance ("like a monster in the night"), and thus feels bitter about her home flight; sometimes tries to hide her eyes behind her glasses
-Feels like an outcast and tries to fit in
-Takes everyone seriously and treads carefully around other dragons
-When on her own or with trusted friends, is surprisingly adventurous and innocent
-is fiercely loyal to those who trust her and respect her
-if there are hatchlings about, will protect them and is often viewed by hatchlings as the 'strict but secretly kind' dragon
-behaves much older and wiser than her years and makes an effort to sound intelligent and refined
-travels around the territory and keeps an eye out for danger; acts as a senior sentry

Hierscht is a bitter dragoness with a quiet and regal demeanor. Her home was a proud light clan which reviled the shadow. When she was born and her parents first laid eye upon her obsidian coat, she found herself sharing in the weakly veiled hatred of the shadow flight. Despite the sunlight tones of her eyes, her blackened scales were a blemish which they couldn't overcome. Even the glow of her wings were more fire than light. She quickly learned she was not welcome in a clan of dragons who boasted over the gleam or shine of their scales - not when hers seemed to absorb the light rather than reflect it.
Her youth was stained by dark looks from light dragons. As she grew up, she found she preferred the untainted thoughts of hatchlings, and more often than not she found herself caring for them when the other dragons hadn't the time. She saw several nests come and go before she finally realized she was an adult herself, and that her own parents hadn't spoken to her in weeks.
Without anyone to tie her down, Hierscht left at the crack of dawn.

---

Initially, Hierscht didn't have a destination. She didn't even have a plan or a goal. However, her wings took her west, then south, then west again, because she kept flickering between where she wanted to go.
At first she considered the Tangled Woods. They were are dark on the horizon as her parents had ever said, but they fit her appearance - almost. But then she turned away from it for the same reason; she couldn't cave in to their opinions, not now that she'd been given the very freedom she'd longed for. The Wind flight was another opportunity - they were a friendly sort, according to the skydancers and spirals who hailed from the winds - but no, they were too playful, and she'd always privately considered them entirely superficial.
Her next target was the Starfall Isles; they'd surely take her seriously. She was in the middle of dissuading herself of that when she found herself on the small islets between the arcane's domain and the Southern Icefields. With little elsewhere to go, she turned away from the observatory and the pink-stained horizon and turned towards the snowy landscape which offered her her only other choice.

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The Southern Icefields were surprisingly large. She flew for many days, keeping track of the snowstorms and hunting and flying. There was a strange peace, in the howling winds and the frigid cold, when she travelled the places between clans and their lairs. She found herself in silence more often than not, and it was that quiet which afforded her time to think.
She had honestly enjoyed travelling, even if she hadn't found enough time to focus on the places she went. Surviving and living on the road had been exciting and had built her confidence - confidence she didn't know she could have.
But she didn't want to travel forever.
She wanted to have somewhere warm to sleep at night. She wanted a home. Perhaps even watch over hatchlings, teach them, the way she had when she was in her parent's clan - a purpose-
Her thoughts were cut out when she found her wings suddenly rammed by an ice-ridden gale.

---

The snowstorm had caught her completely by surprise.
It was by far the strongest she'd found yet. It battled her like an angry featherback, grappling at her striped wings. Any misplaced flap, any unmeasured turn, and it threw her around like a ragdoll. Nothing she'd yet done had prepared her for the sheer force of the storm.
When she finally gave up, she clipped her wings to her side and dove, piercing the winds. Even that didn't stop the storm entirely, and it continued to knock her around and off-course, flipping her around in crazy turns. When she could finally see the ground again, it was all she could do to flick out her wings and pray that they'd help her landing, however haphazard it may be.
She slammed into the ground, the snow doing little to cushion her fall. Coughing, Hierscht brushed snow off her clothes and shook herself to try and dispell the persistent cold, wings curling around her to feebly try and keep her warm.
She'd landed in front of a subtle cavern entrance, hidden among pillars and spikes of pure ice. quietly thanking her luck that she hadn't landed on one of the pikes, she evaluated her options.
Travel around in the snowstorm, or go in this unknown lair.
Her feet carried her forward and into the rock of the cave entrance.

---

In hindsight, Hierscht thought, looking up at a skydancer with a braced wing and an expression similar to the furious storm outside, maybe sneaking into an unknown lair was a bad idea.
"You should have been stopped at the entrance," the skydancer commented, eyeing her suspiciously. "Did you not run into any sentries?"
Hierscht, a bit too scared to speak, shook her head.
"Slackers," the skydancer huffed with a click of her tongue. Turning away, she said shortly, "follow me." Noticing her hesitation, she insisted, "you need to meet the Matriarch."
Hesitantly, Hierscht followed the skydancer deeper into the lair's winding caves.

---

Not a week later, Hierscht found herself standing on a sentry post, eyes scanning the horizon. The chill had settled into her skin a few days in, and now she almost welcomed the cool breeze which flittered past. A flap of wings behind her brought Sythlar down to land beside her.
"Patrols are going well," Hierscht answered before Sythlar asked. Sythlar nodded, and, with a quiet wave, dismissed her. Nodding amicably, Hierscht hopped off the secretive lookout point and flew down into the lair's entrance, diving in and landing with practiced care.
Before long, she found herself wandering towards the nursery, where the sound of young voices trailed out. Trying to hide the grin that threatened to form, Hierscht peeked in. She was immediately swarmed by hatchlings, chirruping hellos and asking a thousand questions a second.
Hierscht gave in and smiled.