Press or click to Save this image.
(NOTE: Some browsers or ad blockers may require you to do this manually with a right click or long press on the image above.)
(NOTE: Some browsers or ad blockers may require you to do this manually with a right click or long press on the image above.)
Exit Scenic Mode.
Expand the dragon details section.
Collapse the dragon details section.
Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
5.22 m
Wingspan
8.11 m
Weight
552.3 kg
Genetics
Radioactive
Python
Python
Radioactive
Morph
Morph
Radioactive
Peacock
Peacock
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Wildclaw
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
8
AGI
9
DEF
6
QCK
5
INT
5
VIT
6
MND
6
Biography
I K A R O A
treasurer
The day Ikaroa was sold was silent, a blurry day of ice and snow clouds rolling overhead and obscuring the light of the sun from her eyes. She knew far too well that she was being sold - her father had told her as such after their falling out. He didn’t care about her opinions - that progress should be made and the old traditions struck out. As such, she was forced into a life that she never wanted in the first place. And so, with a chain about her neck, she was led from the clan she had known as her family for a short while.
The warlord that owned her trained her, groomed her into his perfect assassin, using her to take out his enemies, staining her soul with the blood of lives that she never should have been forced to take.
Ikaroa looked up, glancing toward the door, where Zwei stood surveying her. Her icy eyes narrowed, tail giving a flick of irritation, “What?” “I have a job for you, Ikaroa. Tonight I require you to kill Seranus,” he replied, eyes landing on her cold stare. Ikaroa gave a ‘hmph’ sound, turning her head away and gazing out the window of her small hut. Her reply was soft, unwilling, and lacked the resolve to be authoritative, “No.”
A cuff to the back of her head sent her falling forward and earned the warlord a gasp of irritation. “It wasn’t a request, you pathetic mongrel. You will kill him or I will kill you!” Ikaroa turned her head toward him, eyes narrowed, her tail flicking again in annoyance, “Fine, but if you do that again, I will kill you instead.” The warlord’s eyes narrowed, though she saw a flicker of fear behind them, for he knew all too well that she had the power to kill him. She simply didn’t, because she didn’t care enough to.
Later that night, upon returning, Ikaroa noticed the clan’s camp was in slight disarray. She’d paused at a river just south to wash the blood from her face and body, the red leaking down the water and disappearing from sight. Now she stood on a hill not far from the camp, watching adults and hatchlings scatter. There was an aura of fear around the clan, but.. Also one of relief? Stepping down from the hill, she headed over, only to jump out of the way as Zwei hurled through the air and crashed into a nearby hut, tearing it apart and shocking the family that hid inside it.
Ikaroa’s head turned toward the direction that Zwei had come from, pleasantly surprised by the sight of a Pearlcatcher standing in the middle of the road. As Zwei stood, Ikaroa’s amusement grew at the sight of blood dripping from his body. His eyes snapped to her, voice ringing out, “Ikaroa! Kill the Pearlcatcher!” Ikaroa blinked, looking at him, then gave a grave smile, carefully stepping out of the way, her hips sashaying sassily, “Why, Master, would I step in for your fight? You never do it for me.” Zwei’s eyes widened and he swore, starting to lunge for her, but the claws of the Pearlcatcher were at his throat before he could move.
Ikaroa watched for a moment as the Pearlcatcher finished him off, then turned to leave. She stepped up behind her, “Wait… What is your name?” The Pearlcatcher paused momentarily, looking back at her, “My name..? I killed you lord and you want to know my name? This isn’t some vendetta, is it?” Ikaroa snorted, lifting one claw and tugging at the collar around her neck, “I would hardly call it a vendetta. More of a ‘thank you’ than anything else.” The Pearlcatcher’s eyes studied her, then she nodded, “Vivienne. My name is Vivienne.” Ikaroa nodded again, then jerked her head in the direction Vivienne was heading, “May I join you?” Vivienne stared at her, unsure, but not willing to chance another clan starting up and becoming so powerful that it was a danger to her own. Besides, this Wildclaw could be useful, right? She nodded after a moment, glancing behind her at the others, “Anyone who wants to join may. But you, Wildclaw. Take that thing off your neck. Those don’t belong on any dragon. Prisoners and slaves should never have been.”
Thus Ikaroa found her third home in a Wind clan, one she hoped would be permanent. She settled in when they arrived, taking on a place under a blacksmithing Guardian named Kai and learning his craft. It wasn’t a position that offered much glory but to Ikaroa, she didn’t truly need that glory anymore. It was something that she enjoyed - it was simple and easy to do, and allowed her time to think.
It was around this time that Ikaroa began to realize that she was different, much different, than the other Wildclaws. She hadn’t been around many in her life - her parents were the only two she had truly seen and understood. She considered herself a female, but had been born with a male’s body. She understood, now, why many of the females that she had tried to flirt with didn’t feel the same way back. Then again, it could have been her incredible moves that had thrown them off - no, really. She has incredible moves.
Destiny smiled at Ikaroa from across the counter in the blacksmith’s fort. She slid a bag of money over toward her, tail flicking slightly, “Thank you Ikaroa. It’s a beautiful piece of weaponry. One would think you’re more than a blacksmith with this amount of talent.” Ikaroa grinned, fumbling for the bag and trying to smoothly slide it to the side. She leaned forward, “What do you mean by that pretty la- OW!” In her excitement to flirt, she had whacked her head on the overhanging blacksmith’s tools. She shook her head, then leaned on one paw, watching the dragoness giggle. This, however, didn’t last long - the stool she was on leaned to one side with her weight, eventually falling over and sending her crashing to the ground with a loud yelp. “I’M OKAY!”
By the time she had gotten to her feet, the lovely dragon she’d been trying to flirt with was walking away. Ikaroa sighed in disappointment, laying her head on the counter and watching her go, “Such a shame. At least it’s nice to watch her walk away. She has the prettiest wings…” This earned a chuckle from Kai behind her. She turned her head to look at him, pointing a wing toward him, “What’re you laughing at?” The Guardian turned toward her, pointing one of his pairs of tongs at her, “You flirt with everyone and don’t realize it, do you?” Ikaroa blinked, then puffed a bit, grooming her wings with her muzzle, “So what? I’m pretty, aren’t I? I should flirt. It’s only a given that it makes their day brighter. They go away giggling. Surely that’s a good thing!”
Kai snorted, setting the tongs down and leaning toward her, his amusement barely contained, “They go away giggling because you’re a klutz, Ikaroa. You always fall over or hit your head on things.” The Wildclaw puffed again, brushing her tail over his face playfully, “But.. that’s attractive right?” The Guardian blew the fluff of her tail out of his nose and shrugged, “To some, maybe, but hey. If you want to try, go for it.” Ikaroa ‘hmph’ed quietly, turning back to her work, “Yeah, so, maybe I will!”
Despite her awkwardness and clumsiness, Ikaroa tends to get more attention than the other clan members thought she would. Nearly always the center of attention, she attracts both genders, though never really realizes that she’s being flirted with. On the rare occasion that Ikaroa does notice that she’s being flirted with, she tends to become slightly panicked, often worried about coming off too strong or messing things up - which in turn makes her even more of a mess.
After awhile in the clan, Vivienne decided to move on with a newly acquired friend named Kelsus, thus leaving Ikaroa behind. This saddened the Wildclaw slightly - though not nearly as much as hearing of the death of her friend after a few months.
A Spiral swooshed through the air above, clutching a scroll in his claws. He landed in front of Ikaroa, causing the Wildclaw to look up. She didn’t recognize him, but tilted her head to the side, taking the offered scroll. As soon as it was out of his hands, the Spiral took off again, dancing through the sky back toward wherever he’d come from. Looking down, Ikaroa noted the seal. It wasn’t one she knew, but nevertheless, she peeled it open and unrolled the long piece of parchment. The words caused her to immediately sit, her eyes wide.
“Dear Ikaroa,
It is my hope that this letter finds you well. I know you were close to Vivienne, and this is the reason I write to you. Forgive me for being so formal, there is no other way for me to feel right now. My precious Vivienne has died this past day. I know that you share in the pain I have, and I request that you come to my clan and join me in mourning her. Please inform the Spiral that brings this to you of your decision.
With deepest regrets,
Kelsus”
Ikaroa lowered the scroll, then collapsed forward, pain wracking her body. She let out a sob, a noise which attracted the attention of several of the clan members, who hastened over and gently drew her to her feet. They carried her to her hut and laid her in bed, murmuring sincerities and offering condolences. None of that mattered to Ikaroa, however. She had lost her saviour, her friend, the one she had followed without question. Her soul hurt, it throbbed with the loss of someone so dear.
The next day, she set about making plans to travel to the clan that Kelsus had requested her presence in. However, as she packed, she was startled by a knock at the door and made her way to open it.
Standing in front of her was Vivienne, alive and well. Ikaroa became bewildered, but was unable to ask questions, for Vivienne spoke first. “Ikaroa, it’s good to see you. May I come in?” The Wildclaw blinked, looking in at her home, then back to Vivienne. She nodded mutely, unable to formulate a sentence in her mind. She stepped aside, allowing Vivienne to enter, then shut the door behind her. Vivienne sat on the bed that took up most of the space in the small hut, looking over at Ikaroa, who stood, watching her. “I know what’s on your mind, Ikaroa. I cannot explain it to you. I’m afraid I can’t explain it myself. I am traveling to rejoin Kelsus. I want you to return with me.”
The Wildclaw sat, the tip of her tail flicking slightly, the only sign of her concern. She studied Vivienne, then turned her head to look out one of the windows, “What do you want me to do when we get there?” Vivienne’s voice was soft, softer than she’d heard it in years, “I want you to protect me. I want you to be my bodyguard. You’re one of the most powerful and best at fighting and I want you to be by my side as my protector from now on.” Ikaroa glanced back at her, tail stilling in it’s movements. She studied the Pearlcatcher, then nodded, “Very well. When do you want to leave?” Vivienne gestured to Ikaroa’s things, “Now, if you’re ready.”
Ikaroa nodded again, her icy eyes brightening at the prospect of adventure. She stood, “I must say my goodbyes first.” Vivienne nodded, “I’ll see you there, in the clan.” With that, the Pearlcatcher left, leaving Ikaroa to say goodbye to her clan, still slightly bewildered.
Upon traveling to Clan Yulon, Ikaroa settled in the city, finding various small jobs, but waiting for Vivenne to reappear. She finds herself in trouble soon, however. Too consumed by the amount of shiny objects in the city, she can’t help but use her prowness to lift a few shinies from the pockets of various travelers. By the time Kelsus approaches her in the first week, she has already lined most of her small room with gold.
This impresses the Pearlcatcher, leading her to appoint Ikaroa as the main treasurer. The Wildclaw, of course, accepts the proposal, because who wouldn’t want more shinies collecting in their room? Ikaroa is fast with numbers, leading her to easily calculate the clan’s treasure in no time, leaving them wondering where she’s been all their life. With her as their treasurer, the clan no longer has to worry about overspending - Ikaroa is loathe to part with a lot of her treasure, though does so in order for the clan to be able to afford things - though she swears they could all live without food, can’t they?
Ikaroa is unusually graceful for a Wildclaw. Unusually so in that she isn’t graceful at all. Often times a crash will be heard from her room, and when someone sticks their head in to inquire, they’re seen with a flustered Wildclaw quickly shoving a broken vase under her bed and swearing she’s fine. Thankfully, only she knows the true worth of the things she accidentally breaks.
Her life is pretty good, and she enjoys the finer things, like watching pretty ladies walk down the street through her window, and covering her room in fine bed linens (bought of course, she can’t fit those in her pockets without being too obvious). She has a knack for kindness, despite her obvious need for shiny things, and can never pass by someone in need.
Ikaroa strolled down the street toward her home. She’d just been to the market in order to pick up food to last her the week. However, the sight of a bedraggled and obviously very old Guardian made her pause, one foot still in the air. He was shivering, for the air was cool in the nighttime. She frowned, watching as he hobbled slightly, moving toward a building and sitting next to it to absorb heat.
The sight broke her heart. Moving over, she smiled at him, then tilted her head, “Would you like a place to stay, sir?” The Guardian lifted his head, weary and suspicious, “You would do that…?” Ikaroa nodded, smiling again, “Come on. Let me give you a place to stay, at least for tonight. You can have a good meal and a warm place to lay your head. You don’t look like you need to be out on the streets.”
The Guardian smiled gratefully, standing slowly and moving next to her. He hobbled slowly, and she smoothed her pace, matching his. When they reached her home, she found that he had a massive thorn stuck between the scales on his paw, and carefully dug it out, then quickly bandaged it.
The Guardian slept in her bed that night, and sometime during it, passed away. Ikaroa never forgot him, and would never regret that she made his life easier in the end. Not many people would have done that, but Ikaroa had known a life of misery and hardship, and the one thing she prided herself on, that she vowed to do until she herself passed on, was help any and all in need.
These days, Ikaroa can be seen in her home, awaiting Vivienne’s arrival and working the clan’s treasury. She is still clumsy, and still flirts without a lot of grace, but she is happy, and she feels that her life finally matters.
treasurer
The day Ikaroa was sold was silent, a blurry day of ice and snow clouds rolling overhead and obscuring the light of the sun from her eyes. She knew far too well that she was being sold - her father had told her as such after their falling out. He didn’t care about her opinions - that progress should be made and the old traditions struck out. As such, she was forced into a life that she never wanted in the first place. And so, with a chain about her neck, she was led from the clan she had known as her family for a short while.
The warlord that owned her trained her, groomed her into his perfect assassin, using her to take out his enemies, staining her soul with the blood of lives that she never should have been forced to take.
Ikaroa looked up, glancing toward the door, where Zwei stood surveying her. Her icy eyes narrowed, tail giving a flick of irritation, “What?” “I have a job for you, Ikaroa. Tonight I require you to kill Seranus,” he replied, eyes landing on her cold stare. Ikaroa gave a ‘hmph’ sound, turning her head away and gazing out the window of her small hut. Her reply was soft, unwilling, and lacked the resolve to be authoritative, “No.”
A cuff to the back of her head sent her falling forward and earned the warlord a gasp of irritation. “It wasn’t a request, you pathetic mongrel. You will kill him or I will kill you!” Ikaroa turned her head toward him, eyes narrowed, her tail flicking again in annoyance, “Fine, but if you do that again, I will kill you instead.” The warlord’s eyes narrowed, though she saw a flicker of fear behind them, for he knew all too well that she had the power to kill him. She simply didn’t, because she didn’t care enough to.
Later that night, upon returning, Ikaroa noticed the clan’s camp was in slight disarray. She’d paused at a river just south to wash the blood from her face and body, the red leaking down the water and disappearing from sight. Now she stood on a hill not far from the camp, watching adults and hatchlings scatter. There was an aura of fear around the clan, but.. Also one of relief? Stepping down from the hill, she headed over, only to jump out of the way as Zwei hurled through the air and crashed into a nearby hut, tearing it apart and shocking the family that hid inside it.
Ikaroa’s head turned toward the direction that Zwei had come from, pleasantly surprised by the sight of a Pearlcatcher standing in the middle of the road. As Zwei stood, Ikaroa’s amusement grew at the sight of blood dripping from his body. His eyes snapped to her, voice ringing out, “Ikaroa! Kill the Pearlcatcher!” Ikaroa blinked, looking at him, then gave a grave smile, carefully stepping out of the way, her hips sashaying sassily, “Why, Master, would I step in for your fight? You never do it for me.” Zwei’s eyes widened and he swore, starting to lunge for her, but the claws of the Pearlcatcher were at his throat before he could move.
Ikaroa watched for a moment as the Pearlcatcher finished him off, then turned to leave. She stepped up behind her, “Wait… What is your name?” The Pearlcatcher paused momentarily, looking back at her, “My name..? I killed you lord and you want to know my name? This isn’t some vendetta, is it?” Ikaroa snorted, lifting one claw and tugging at the collar around her neck, “I would hardly call it a vendetta. More of a ‘thank you’ than anything else.” The Pearlcatcher’s eyes studied her, then she nodded, “Vivienne. My name is Vivienne.” Ikaroa nodded again, then jerked her head in the direction Vivienne was heading, “May I join you?” Vivienne stared at her, unsure, but not willing to chance another clan starting up and becoming so powerful that it was a danger to her own. Besides, this Wildclaw could be useful, right? She nodded after a moment, glancing behind her at the others, “Anyone who wants to join may. But you, Wildclaw. Take that thing off your neck. Those don’t belong on any dragon. Prisoners and slaves should never have been.”
Thus Ikaroa found her third home in a Wind clan, one she hoped would be permanent. She settled in when they arrived, taking on a place under a blacksmithing Guardian named Kai and learning his craft. It wasn’t a position that offered much glory but to Ikaroa, she didn’t truly need that glory anymore. It was something that she enjoyed - it was simple and easy to do, and allowed her time to think.
It was around this time that Ikaroa began to realize that she was different, much different, than the other Wildclaws. She hadn’t been around many in her life - her parents were the only two she had truly seen and understood. She considered herself a female, but had been born with a male’s body. She understood, now, why many of the females that she had tried to flirt with didn’t feel the same way back. Then again, it could have been her incredible moves that had thrown them off - no, really. She has incredible moves.
Destiny smiled at Ikaroa from across the counter in the blacksmith’s fort. She slid a bag of money over toward her, tail flicking slightly, “Thank you Ikaroa. It’s a beautiful piece of weaponry. One would think you’re more than a blacksmith with this amount of talent.” Ikaroa grinned, fumbling for the bag and trying to smoothly slide it to the side. She leaned forward, “What do you mean by that pretty la- OW!” In her excitement to flirt, she had whacked her head on the overhanging blacksmith’s tools. She shook her head, then leaned on one paw, watching the dragoness giggle. This, however, didn’t last long - the stool she was on leaned to one side with her weight, eventually falling over and sending her crashing to the ground with a loud yelp. “I’M OKAY!”
By the time she had gotten to her feet, the lovely dragon she’d been trying to flirt with was walking away. Ikaroa sighed in disappointment, laying her head on the counter and watching her go, “Such a shame. At least it’s nice to watch her walk away. She has the prettiest wings…” This earned a chuckle from Kai behind her. She turned her head to look at him, pointing a wing toward him, “What’re you laughing at?” The Guardian turned toward her, pointing one of his pairs of tongs at her, “You flirt with everyone and don’t realize it, do you?” Ikaroa blinked, then puffed a bit, grooming her wings with her muzzle, “So what? I’m pretty, aren’t I? I should flirt. It’s only a given that it makes their day brighter. They go away giggling. Surely that’s a good thing!”
Kai snorted, setting the tongs down and leaning toward her, his amusement barely contained, “They go away giggling because you’re a klutz, Ikaroa. You always fall over or hit your head on things.” The Wildclaw puffed again, brushing her tail over his face playfully, “But.. that’s attractive right?” The Guardian blew the fluff of her tail out of his nose and shrugged, “To some, maybe, but hey. If you want to try, go for it.” Ikaroa ‘hmph’ed quietly, turning back to her work, “Yeah, so, maybe I will!”
Despite her awkwardness and clumsiness, Ikaroa tends to get more attention than the other clan members thought she would. Nearly always the center of attention, she attracts both genders, though never really realizes that she’s being flirted with. On the rare occasion that Ikaroa does notice that she’s being flirted with, she tends to become slightly panicked, often worried about coming off too strong or messing things up - which in turn makes her even more of a mess.
After awhile in the clan, Vivienne decided to move on with a newly acquired friend named Kelsus, thus leaving Ikaroa behind. This saddened the Wildclaw slightly - though not nearly as much as hearing of the death of her friend after a few months.
A Spiral swooshed through the air above, clutching a scroll in his claws. He landed in front of Ikaroa, causing the Wildclaw to look up. She didn’t recognize him, but tilted her head to the side, taking the offered scroll. As soon as it was out of his hands, the Spiral took off again, dancing through the sky back toward wherever he’d come from. Looking down, Ikaroa noted the seal. It wasn’t one she knew, but nevertheless, she peeled it open and unrolled the long piece of parchment. The words caused her to immediately sit, her eyes wide.
“Dear Ikaroa,
It is my hope that this letter finds you well. I know you were close to Vivienne, and this is the reason I write to you. Forgive me for being so formal, there is no other way for me to feel right now. My precious Vivienne has died this past day. I know that you share in the pain I have, and I request that you come to my clan and join me in mourning her. Please inform the Spiral that brings this to you of your decision.
With deepest regrets,
Kelsus”
Ikaroa lowered the scroll, then collapsed forward, pain wracking her body. She let out a sob, a noise which attracted the attention of several of the clan members, who hastened over and gently drew her to her feet. They carried her to her hut and laid her in bed, murmuring sincerities and offering condolences. None of that mattered to Ikaroa, however. She had lost her saviour, her friend, the one she had followed without question. Her soul hurt, it throbbed with the loss of someone so dear.
The next day, she set about making plans to travel to the clan that Kelsus had requested her presence in. However, as she packed, she was startled by a knock at the door and made her way to open it.
Standing in front of her was Vivienne, alive and well. Ikaroa became bewildered, but was unable to ask questions, for Vivienne spoke first. “Ikaroa, it’s good to see you. May I come in?” The Wildclaw blinked, looking in at her home, then back to Vivienne. She nodded mutely, unable to formulate a sentence in her mind. She stepped aside, allowing Vivienne to enter, then shut the door behind her. Vivienne sat on the bed that took up most of the space in the small hut, looking over at Ikaroa, who stood, watching her. “I know what’s on your mind, Ikaroa. I cannot explain it to you. I’m afraid I can’t explain it myself. I am traveling to rejoin Kelsus. I want you to return with me.”
The Wildclaw sat, the tip of her tail flicking slightly, the only sign of her concern. She studied Vivienne, then turned her head to look out one of the windows, “What do you want me to do when we get there?” Vivienne’s voice was soft, softer than she’d heard it in years, “I want you to protect me. I want you to be my bodyguard. You’re one of the most powerful and best at fighting and I want you to be by my side as my protector from now on.” Ikaroa glanced back at her, tail stilling in it’s movements. She studied the Pearlcatcher, then nodded, “Very well. When do you want to leave?” Vivienne gestured to Ikaroa’s things, “Now, if you’re ready.”
Ikaroa nodded again, her icy eyes brightening at the prospect of adventure. She stood, “I must say my goodbyes first.” Vivienne nodded, “I’ll see you there, in the clan.” With that, the Pearlcatcher left, leaving Ikaroa to say goodbye to her clan, still slightly bewildered.
Upon traveling to Clan Yulon, Ikaroa settled in the city, finding various small jobs, but waiting for Vivenne to reappear. She finds herself in trouble soon, however. Too consumed by the amount of shiny objects in the city, she can’t help but use her prowness to lift a few shinies from the pockets of various travelers. By the time Kelsus approaches her in the first week, she has already lined most of her small room with gold.
This impresses the Pearlcatcher, leading her to appoint Ikaroa as the main treasurer. The Wildclaw, of course, accepts the proposal, because who wouldn’t want more shinies collecting in their room? Ikaroa is fast with numbers, leading her to easily calculate the clan’s treasure in no time, leaving them wondering where she’s been all their life. With her as their treasurer, the clan no longer has to worry about overspending - Ikaroa is loathe to part with a lot of her treasure, though does so in order for the clan to be able to afford things - though she swears they could all live without food, can’t they?
Ikaroa is unusually graceful for a Wildclaw. Unusually so in that she isn’t graceful at all. Often times a crash will be heard from her room, and when someone sticks their head in to inquire, they’re seen with a flustered Wildclaw quickly shoving a broken vase under her bed and swearing she’s fine. Thankfully, only she knows the true worth of the things she accidentally breaks.
Her life is pretty good, and she enjoys the finer things, like watching pretty ladies walk down the street through her window, and covering her room in fine bed linens (bought of course, she can’t fit those in her pockets without being too obvious). She has a knack for kindness, despite her obvious need for shiny things, and can never pass by someone in need.
Ikaroa strolled down the street toward her home. She’d just been to the market in order to pick up food to last her the week. However, the sight of a bedraggled and obviously very old Guardian made her pause, one foot still in the air. He was shivering, for the air was cool in the nighttime. She frowned, watching as he hobbled slightly, moving toward a building and sitting next to it to absorb heat.
The sight broke her heart. Moving over, she smiled at him, then tilted her head, “Would you like a place to stay, sir?” The Guardian lifted his head, weary and suspicious, “You would do that…?” Ikaroa nodded, smiling again, “Come on. Let me give you a place to stay, at least for tonight. You can have a good meal and a warm place to lay your head. You don’t look like you need to be out on the streets.”
The Guardian smiled gratefully, standing slowly and moving next to her. He hobbled slowly, and she smoothed her pace, matching his. When they reached her home, she found that he had a massive thorn stuck between the scales on his paw, and carefully dug it out, then quickly bandaged it.
The Guardian slept in her bed that night, and sometime during it, passed away. Ikaroa never forgot him, and would never regret that she made his life easier in the end. Not many people would have done that, but Ikaroa had known a life of misery and hardship, and the one thing she prided herself on, that she vowed to do until she herself passed on, was help any and all in need.
These days, Ikaroa can be seen in her home, awaiting Vivienne’s arrival and working the clan’s treasury. She is still clumsy, and still flirts without a lot of grace, but she is happy, and she feels that her life finally matters.
Click or tap a food type to individually feed this dragon only. The other dragons in your lair will not have their energy replenished.
This dragon doesn't eat Insects.
Meat stocks are currently depleted.
This dragon doesn't eat Seafood.
This dragon doesn't eat Plants.
You can share this dragon on the forums by either copying the browser URL manually, or using bbcode!
Exalting Ikaroa to the service of the Gladekeeper will remove them from your lair forever. They will leave behind a small sum of riches that they have accumulated. This action is irreversible.
Do you wish to continue?
- Names must be longer than 2 characters.
- Names must be no longer than 16 characters.
- Names can only contain letters.
- Names must be no longer than 16 characters.
- Names can only contain letters.