Ghira

There was no god out to test them, no envious dragon who desired him or her, or even another in his heart. He just... stopped loving her, bit by bit. She knew, logically, that she'd stop loving him too eventually, but the idea of staying in the clan long enough for that to happen, as her heart ached more with each indifferent minute...

Ghira left in the dead of night, telling only her clan leaders so nobody would come looking for her. She set up a little cooking stand near the trading post, competing with other dragons from all across the world to sell the food she made. However, she soon found her food failing her - or her failing her food - as customers complained about how bland and boring it was. No matter what recipe she remembered or learned anew, the result was the same. She had to move her stall from the bustling centre to the outskirts, where only dragons deliberately searching for cheap calories in the dead of night and little else would look.

One day, or rather one midnight, a ridgeback came by her stall, his back laden with supplies. He ordered one of everything and ate it all, which was nothing unusual for a dragon his size. The unusual thing was that he ordered a second round, and then a third, until Ghira's meagre supplies were all out. She wasn't going to turn down free gold, but...

"Why did you eat all of this? It can't have tasted good."
The ridgeback idly picked his teeth as he answered. "You're the one selling it. If you don't think it's good, why are you still cooking?"
"It's my job, it's how I make a living."
"That's all?"

Ghira opened her mouth to answer, outraged, but suddenly her voice left her.

Of course it wasn't. Cooking was everything to her. How had she let it become just another unpleasant routine to get her through the day? When did she stop loving food? When she left her clan did she leave her passion behind too, or did he take it from her?

Neither were true, and she knew it. So when...?

"It shouldn't be, but... I don't know how to change that."
"I don't either," the ridgeback said, "but my daughter might. Come back to my clan with me, we've been looking for a sous-chef."

And she did. Once more she packed everything she knew away, and left in the dark.

---

(original bio by previous owner, left unedited)

Ghira Mud Pies Mate:

From her earliest childhood, two things have been constants in Ghira's life: baking and Edaph. She and the fae hatched in neighboring nests and took to each other within days, quickly becoming inseparable. No one even feigned surprise when, later in life, they became mates; they had long since made their unending devotion to each other very clear. Growing up, Ghira tended more to solemnity than the somewhat rowdy Edaph, but she always joined in his outdoor games anyway and lent a certain gravitas to the proceedings. She took their explorations of soil -- what one might refer to as "playing in the dirt" -- very seriously; this may even have been what inspired Edaph to turn his childish enjoyment of getting filthy into a lifelong study of soil properties. But their favorite game combined Edaph's love of dirt with the baking that Ghira's mother taught her as a family tradition. They loved making mud pies. Now, as adults, they still make mud pies -- only these are the products of Ghira's renowned bakery. Nobody's quite sure whether there's actual mud in them. There wouldn't be, would there? Except that Edaph always comes in elbows-deep in dirt, and one can't help wondering if a few clumps might have crept in ... When asked, Ghira will only smile and inquire whether the asker has tasted anything off about their pie. And they never have: they're delicious.