Wick

Wick

The faint smell of wax and metal claws its way into your nose as a cold wind chills you to the bone. The click of talons echoes the dark-lit corridor. It rises in your belly, and coils in your heart, this deep nameless fear. One word repeats on your tongue, one name. Wick...Wick...Wick—

This dark anomaly of a dragon has another name that common tongues can't pronounce, so she was just dubbed "Wick" by the other monks in the monastery. She went through vigorous training to hone her body into a living shadow. During her seventh year of training, She was sent by an acolyte of the Shadowbinder to watch over the rogue soldier, Amaretto. So Wick was a phantom in the ranks of the Shadowbinder's army for a time, although Amaretto scarcely remembers her, just the sourceless smell of wax and the constant feeling that she was being watched. The oily feeling still on her scales after all this time.

Despite her unnatural aura, Wick longs for companionship although no creature is brave enough to approach her. She suffers from body dysmorphia and views herself as a repugnant monster who deserves the reproachful behavior of the creatures and dragons she encounters. She hides her body under countless wraps and cloaks, hoping to hide what they fear. If one was brave enough to befriend her, they would notice that her scales smell of incense, and her claws are stained with the charcoal of a chronic sketcher. Her sketches are very detailed portraits of dragons from a distance and surrealistic landscapes with creatures frolicking unbeknownst to the lonely artist sketching their likeness.

Loneliness makes her susceptible to depression. To thwart this, Wick wills her body into a deep slumber, quite easily due to her training as a monk. She will awaken every fourth new moon, usually to sketch until that familiar emptiness returns or when the full moon rears its head, then she slinks back to the safety of the shadows.