Nethua

"Nethua, let that one come to me," the shaman called out. The pearlcatcher's voice floated over Nethua and settled on her like a calming gossamer shroud. Nethua relaxed slightly and stepped aside, letting the supplicant pass. Turning her body, she stood just behind the supplicant like an extremely large shadow. When the other dragon made nervous eye contact with her, Nethua bared one tooth in silent promise.

A very serious, literal dragon. If she has a sense of humor, it is buried deep, deep down somewhere in her heart of hearts. She is also a dragon of few words. Extremely few words. Most of her communication is done with her body language and precious little is done with her voice. There are some in the clan who have been born and lived several seasons never having heard Nethua speak. She makes her meanings excruciatingly plain, however.

Nethua and her twin brother Nathor's father is a clan leader named Apocalypticon, a dragon rumored to have been fashioned by the Plaguebringer herself. A great warrior, he seldom bestowed his regard on his children as he had grander aspects to contend with, being sought by many. This did not trouble the twins any, for already their instincts urged them forward in search of their charges. By fate or by the Plague Mother's providence, both were drawn to the same location.

Nethua found her charge in the pearlcatcher shaman of Tva'Kadith. Though they had taken separate routes, she had her brother Nathor had come to land at the exact same grounds. However, Nethua felt nothing for the territory itself. It did not captivate her or instill in her any great emotions or desires. It wasn't until she came upon a pale shape scratching at the earth before a delicate shrine that she felt it. A sudden, unmistakable pull towards what was meant. She felt herself become a whole being then, as the path of her life laid down before her. With no compunctions, she strode up to the pearlcatcher genuflecting at the shrine. When the dragon looked up and met Nethua's eyes with her own faceted ones, Nethua did not quail or shrink away as many who looked upon the shaman did.

Reaching out a claw the length of the pearlcatcher's head, she delicately tapped Skytouch's horn, and then gestured to herself. Just as silently, the shaman nodded assent to the addition of a new, extremely large shadow. Now, most places that Skytouch goes, watchful Nethua is there beside her.