Urbosa
(#53404724)
she/her | gaurd
Naboris
Wicker Dragon
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Light.
Female Gaoler
This dragon is an ancient breed.
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Personal Style
Ancient dragons cannot wear apparel.
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
12.56 m
Wingspan
6.8 m
Weight
9800.64 kg
Genetics
Gold
Jaguar (Gaoler)
Jaguar (Gaoler)
Gold
Rosette (Gaoler)
Rosette (Gaoler)
Peridot
Thundercrack (Gaoler)
Thundercrack (Gaoler)
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Gaoler
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
6
AGI
6
DEF
6
QCK
5
INT
8
VIT
8
MND
6
Biography
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U R B O S A
;; Warrior of Lightning
The spearman lunges. Urbosa dodges, just as her mentor taught her, stumbling on the slippery mud but keeping her footing. The rogue snarls, twisting in the rain, and as they charge again the crude blade wrapped to a stick snaps against the bulking iron of a shield. Urbosa backs away as her clanmate roots themself between Urbosa’s attacker and the next in line to chiefdom. “What are you doing out here?” Lati barks down at the young chief. The guardsman looks furious, but Urbosa knows it comes from a place of caring. They’re afraid. Urbosa is too. “I’m looking for mother.” She shouts back up, trying to be heard over the torrential downpour. “Did you see her out here?” Lati slams their shield against another charging rogue, sending them flying back and into the mud, away from the to-be-chief. “I did not. Dion and Lace should be guarding her, but I haven't heard a word from them after the attack started.” Urbosa nods. She knows Lati won’t see the gesture, but she can’t say much else. Lati’s words say everything or nothing, and Urbosa does not want to hear what they mean, so she sprints past the gathering group of thieves. She splashes mud into their faces as she passes, allowing Lati to get more solid hits in. It’s a cheap tactic, but this isn’t a practice spar anymore. “If you can’t find your mother, you need to run!” Lati calls to her as she plunges into the fray. Over the roaring rain and the crackling of thunder, the shrill crash of battle floods over her. She doesn’t pay attention to the forms below her feet. She doesn’t flicker her eyes over to the movement swarming at the corners of her eyes. She dodges and weaves when they come close, barreling past falling debris and water-soaked fabrics of her clan. It’s all falling apart. She trained so hard for something like this. She’d prepared her whole life to pick up the mantle in these kinds of scenarios. But instead of picking up a weapon and leading her people, they were protecting her and she was running around looking for her mother like a terrified hatchling. Someone screams. She looks. She looks. She watches the timeless temple of her clan collapse in a horrific heap. She watches her mother, stuck with spears and ridden with claw-deep gouges, disappear under the crumbling reliquary. She’s screaming too before she realizes it's her voice. Her entire body burns as she squeezes herself through the rubble, clawing away stone and wood and red soil. She tears away a stone, and underneath she finds her mother’s head. Her mother looks at her, a soft smile on her face. Water trickles on top of her broken horns as she takes in a wispy breath. Frantic, Urbosa tries to dig her out, but the rubble groans and shifts as she tries to move a plank. She can’t move her mother. She can’t protect her clan. Urbosa buries her head in the crook of her mother’s damp neck. Her tears mingle with the rainwater. “I don’t know what to do!” She cries. Her mother wrangles in a breath. The entire structure shifts. “There’s nothing you can do, Little Spark.” “But, I’m supposed to. It's what we do, right? ‘We fight at the front. We stand as leaders.’ That’s what you told me.” She feels a shift, and her mother lies her head next to hers, circling her in fur and hints of warmth. “We did say that, didn’t we?” She laughs, and the entire structure creeks. “Your father and I wanted the best for you, and when he passed on I wanted to make sure you were strong and powerful and more than I ever was.” She breathes in again. It sounds like a whisper, and her words are softer this time. “You took to it like a bird to the sky. Every day you found a way to surprise me. You still did, digging all the way in here.” “But I can’t get you out. I can’t protect my clan from this.” “None of us could, sweetie. They have a storm on their side.” “Then what do I do?” Her question is left with silence and the pounding rain. She can’t hear her mother breathe, only the rumble of thunder overhead. “What you need to do, Urbosa, is survive. Run away as fast as you can, live for another day, and the day after that, and keep living. You won’t forget us if you live, and we’ll be there to guide you.” “But that’s not helping you. I’ll be leaving everyone behind. You told me there was no pride in running.” “Oh. No, no, my precious Little Spark.” Urbosa can feel the rumble of her words with how deep she buries herself into her mother’s fur. The words are all around her. “There’s no pride in cowardice. That may be running for some, but you’ve never been a coward. Every day you looked towards danger and stood your ground, even now, and… Urbosa.” She looks up. Her mother's eyes are shining at her. A smile like the sun, blazing with hope. “I couldn’t be more proud.” With those words her mother dies with a rattling breath. The light disappears. The rain pounds harder. Urbosa stays buried in her mother’s fur long after it’s gone cold. She listens to the battle outside, screaming and roaring over the thunder. When she hears it move past the temple she nuzzles her nose against her mother’s forehead, as she had done in ceremonies honoring warriors passed on, and then she runs with all her might. Like a flash of lightning, she shoots past the rogues and thieves and barrels into the forest. She doesn’t look back. By: Frostlightles |
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