Ludivina

Dragons cowered when he passed. His family was well respected, and she had made a name for himself in battle. No one dared meet his eyes and every artisan gave him generous discounts on merchandise. 

He hated it. It was boring! Life was too easy. There were no more struggles, no more challenging battles!

In the hottest part of the day he left, running off across the weather blasted plain. He left the towering rocks of his home behind and the cowardly dragons with them. He didn't know where he was going, but he knew he had go. 


The first clan he came to was on the edge of the plain, near a river. The sun beat down mercilessly, forcing the water into the air, making it unbearably humid. He felt like he was drowning on dry land. Still, the dragons here seemed strong. 

He strut up to the biggest one in sight, a coatl, and puffed out his chest. They looked him up and down, eyes half lidded. "Who are you?" He chirped.

He was silent for a moment, taken aback, then snarled, "I'm Ludivina! Learn the name and respect it."

The coatl shrugged and turned away, speaking with a sing-song voice, "You're welcome to stay, drink from our river, whatever else you need."

Never had a dragon turned their back on him! He let out an earsplitting screech and leapt at the foolish dragon, talons gripping his side and raking down savagely. 

The coatl howled in pain, flapping his large wings to try and knock Ludivina away. It was a clumsy attempt, easily ducked below. He bit at his haunch and pulled his leg out from under him. The bulkier dragon fell with an agonized cry.

By now many of his clanmates had gathered around. They watched in shock and horror as Ludivina continued to attack, hissing and demanding the coatl apologise.

Something big and hefty knocked him to the side. He stumbled and whirled around to face the new threat, wings flared, making his body appear all the bigger.

A glittering, imposing imperial towered above him, his lip curled into a snarl. A magical aura glistened around him and Ludivina shuffled back nervously. Few in his clan were powerful in the magic arts, and those that were hardly stayed for long. His deep voice made Ludivina tremble, "We welcomed you. You seemed a colour of prosperity, fruit, life. Now, we see your true colour: blood."

His massive paw shot out and knocked the smaller wildclaw away and to the side. "Now go!" His voice thundered. 

Ludivina scrambled to his feet, half his body throbbing from the strike and his head hot and pounding with rage. How dare they treat him like this? How dare they-

A rattling breath drew his attention. That coatl, it was old. He could almost see the colour draining from its plumage. Fear sent a horrid shiver down his back and clutched his heart. He'd never been a killer. His clan knew how to survive a fight, knew how to pick a match, and most importantly knew when to give up. Fool coatl!

The imperial moved towards him and he reflexively yelped. He spun away and ran. He leapt over the river, flapping his wings and sending drops of blood and dust down into the ever flowing waters.

Ludivina looks nervously at the gathered craftsmen. His mate had encouraged him to attend the festival to get a taste of other cultures and expand his artistic horizons. Perhaps she was growing bored with what he had been making lately.

Regardless, he was here now and they were asking him questions! What did he know about stained glass? Even the light flight for that matter! Still, he was here to experience. He leaned in close to inspect the work, considering the listed items.

The stone knife. Though his instincts went to battle, perhaps warfare, he tried to consider other options. Maybe it was a tool? But for what…
The elk pelt. They're warm and comfortable. Looking over the depicted scene, there were lots of blues, greens, and transluscent whites. Perhaps it was set somewhere cold, the pelt for warmth.
Reinforced rope, a rarity. The only time he had seen it used was during the dust carve dig. With that context, perhaps there was some kind of excavation? Yes, there's a dark streak down the middle leading to…
The simple gold bracelets! Their shine was unmistakable at the bottom of the portrait. They were enticing, alluring. Clearly these were what it’s all about!


He cleared his throat and looked nervously at the scholarly craftsmen. As all eyes turned to them he began to ramble, “Well, it uh seems to depict the journey of ah- a treasure hunter. They can prepared, this isn’t their first um excursion. The rope is of a rare type, and you can see the deep hole where the treasure is ah- hiding; the bracelets I mean. This took place somewhere cold, as indicated by the colours, they’re um cool tones. It also explains the very warm looking elk pelt…” He trailed off, eyes darting from one calculating face to the next.

“And what of the knife?” several voices chorused unevenly, like hasty echoes.

“The knife. Yes, well normally such things were used for battling, but the point is clearly the gold, so maybe it’s self defense? Yes, I think this was a scene from the travels of some kind of treasure hunter, a survivalist of sorts; they were self-sufficient more or less.” Ludivina watched nervously as a few heads slowly bobbed. Some muttered thanks, and the whole group turned back to eachother. The wildclaw stood there silently for a moment. Then he said softly to the archivist, “I think I’ll go now. Hopefully that helps.” He didn't wait for a reply. Maybe he would come back later.