Ephah

Because he's from the shadow flight, Ephah believes that he should be dark and mysterious, and he tries really hard, but he's just not very good at it. He's actually quite cheerful and friendly, and he can never seem to stop from blurting out what he thinks, even when he's trying his hardest to be enigmatic.

He loves bright colors and sparkly things, and he absolutely adores unicorns. He wraps himself in bandages and hides his eyes beneath the wide brim of a wizard's hat in order to appear more mysterious, but even then he could not resist picking out as many different colors as he could, though they are not nearly as bright as he would like. He has tried his claw at writing brooding poetry, as well, but somehow it always devolves into couplets about kittens and fairies.

He occasionally tries to play a trick on another dragon, having heard that this is the sort of thing shadow dragons enjoy, but is even worse at this than at dark poetry. He is generally unable to think of any but the most obvious of tricks, and the few times he has actually succeeded in playing a prank on another clan member, he was afterward so tortured by his guilty conscience that he had to go confess and beg their forgiveness, with tears of remorse in his eyes.

The other dragons of the Windrover Clan find this denial of his true nature rather silly, but as they generally don't interfere with each other's choices, they tolerate it with eye rolls and fond head shakes.

Walking through the dragon market one day, Ephah spotted a merchant selling dwarf unicorns, and despite his resolve, he could not resist. He spent a considerable time petting and playing with each unicorn, searching for the prettiest, most affectionate one. In the end, he spent every cent of his personal hoard to buy one. He is completely aware that a pet unicorn contradicts the dark, brooding persona he is attempting to adopt, but has justified it to himself with the thought that at least she's black. He has named her Truffles, and he absolutely dotes on her, taking her wherever he goes.


Ephah picked moodily at a thorn that had gotten lodged between his toes. This was the third spiky thing he had had to pull out of his feet today, and it was barely noon.

He had always dreamed of coming back to the Tangled Wood where he'd been born, and now here they were. And he hated it. It was dark, and gloomy, and you could never see the sky. Or what you were stepping on, he thought, wincing as he finally managed to dig the thorn out and flick it away. Sharp things here seemed to lay in wait for his tender paws. And there was nothing colorful or sparkly anywhere.

Besides that, there were sounds, creepy sounds, all the time. Eerie giggles, chittering, distant shrieks. And random dragons - strangers - kept bursting out of the brush, shouting "boo!" in his face, then running off again, cackling. He fell for it every time.

Thank goodness the clan was only passing through on their way to Dragonhome. He couldn't wait to get out into the open air again. And maybe sleep for more than three hours together. He glanced around sulkily. Where was Truffles? He needed a good unicorn cuddle.

He was just getting up to look for her when something heavy pounced on him and yelled, "Surprise!"

Ephah shrieked. The Shadow dragons were stepping up their game! But when he managed to open his eyes, he saw only Caoimhe standing on his chest, laughing down at him.

Honestly, he thought, squirming out from under her paws. Sometimes she acted more like a hatchling than a clan leader and the dragon who had raised him. Caoimhe let him climb to his feet and, when he glanced around, he saw that the entire family had gathered; Hashi, Zhethran and Primrose on one side of her, Gideon and Oz on the other. Even Kennar had settled down near them, his expression disinterested, but one eye on the proceedings all the same. What was going on here?

Caoimhe answered by turning away and picking up a package, hastily wrapped in burlap and tied with an old string. "Happy birthday!" she said, beaming as she shoved the package into his hands.

Ephah looked down at it, then back up. "But. . . it isn't my birthday. Not for months."

"It must be," Caoimhe said, in a practical tone that couldn't be argued with, "since you're getting a birthday present."

He glanced over at Gideon, who only gave a half-smile and a shrug, as if to say, "what can you do?"

"Well," Ephah said, looking down at the package in his paws in bewilderment. "Well, then. Thank you."

"Open it, open it!" Osmanthus said, jigging excitedly.

"Yes, do," Primrose added, smiling.

Well, if Primrose thought it was okay. She was too nice for it to be some sort of trick. Ephah pulled the string off the soft packet and unwrapped the burlap, and a length of cloth slithered out into his paws. He took one look at the cloak - the brilliant hues, the way the cloth, even in the gloom of the Wood, caught the light and sent shimmering prisms of color across his fur - and burst into tears. Loud, messy, embarrassing tears.

Everyone looked startled, and Caoimhe danced a little, distressed. "Don't cry!" she wailed. "It was supposed to be something good. I had no idea cloaks upset you so much. We can take it back! I'm sure I can find that merchant again." She reached for the cloak, but Ephah clutched it against his chest.

"No! I luh - luh. . . LOVE it," he bawled, barely able to get the words out between sobs. "It's perfect."

"Oh." Caoimhe stopped sidling. "Um, good?"

"It must have cost so muh- much money." He hiccuped.

"Well, it was on sale," Caoimhe offered.

"S- still. You shouldn't spuh- spend it on me."

"Why not?" She shrugged. "What's treasure for but to buy things that make dragons happy? Besides, it's your birthday."

Ephah sputtered a wet sort of laugh at this, and tried to discreetly wipe his dripping nose on one of his arm wraps. "Thanks," he sniffed. "Really. Thank you." Caoimhe grinned.

"Well?" Gideon said, giving him a nudge that nearly knocked him off his feet. "Try it on."

A chorus of agreement started up around him, and he ducked his head, suddenly feeling shy. But he removed the wide-brimmed wizard's hat he normally wore, laying it gently to the side. He had a feeling he wasn't going to need this particular article of clothing anymore. He slung the beautiful cloak across his back, shrugging his wings carefully through the slits, and felt it settle comfortably around him.

"How - how do I look?" he asked hesitantly.

"Blinding," Zhethran said dryly.

"Hush," Primrose told him, batting his head with one wing. "You look perfect," she said to Ephah.

It felt perfect. He shuffled a few steps, feeling the cloth slip silkily across his fur, tugging the hood up onto his head. It was just right.

(speckle, seraph, sparkle)