Generosity

Generosity
The Walking forest

The wind carries the drowsy scent of the vines sprung under his wings, gladegift blooms ever dangling under the shade of his never quite folded expanse of fin. His face is likewise strange, plant rooted into a mask over his antlered head and black leaves growing where horns would be on another guardian. On his back he carries a worrisome Dryad, she clipping and singing and helping him grow as he aides the clan of the lair he resides in.

Around him always sprout roots and the smell of spring, trees and grass and flowers always underfoot as he makes his patrol of the molten territory his clanmates lay claim to. Much like the others in the lair he is untamed and territorial, and they try not to ask many questions when new bushes take root on the edges of his patrol, always so neatly shaped like dragons. Not, of course, that he might answer them if they asked.

Authority takes pride in him as one of the most powerful in her accumulated lair, though it is known that he does not speak and that smaller dragons need keep from his path, lest a sprouting tree skewer or launch them from their place near his tread. When he sleeps he is indiscernible from the dragon shaped shrubs dotting his patrol route, allowing his vines to encase him and harden when his Dryad requires a stationary moment in their heated environment.