Heather
(#54175263)
Dry, cold, unsettling, has constant nosebleeds
Charlie
Auburn Woolly Walrus
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 48/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Plague.
Female Wildclaw
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
5.38 m
Wingspan
5.77 m
Weight
421.36 kg
Genetics
Blackberry
Speckle
Speckle
Pearl
Facet
Facet
Silver
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
| Dried roses, pressed heather, taxidermy, tanned leather. That's the greatest scar of all: in death, to live forever. |
|
The Wildclaw led Sweetgrass down the cave corridor into the sandy cellar of her home.
"I take it you're here for Ditto's tea order? He said a Skydancer of about your description would be arriving around this time."
"Yes!" Sweetgrass trilled. "Two pounds of the dried Corpsemaker Ivy, purple and green varieties."
Heather smirked. "And he knows the purple variety is poisonous, right?"
"He said that in the right quantity it actually has medicinal properties. At least for Imperials."
"Next thing we know, that boy is going to be distributing poison ivy loofahs and livingstone incense," the Wildclaw scoffed, "but an order is an order. And I don't have an Imperial skull yet, maybe I'll ask Deadwood or Myth for theirs if Ditto kills them." Heather gestured to a shelf dug out of the wall, where she had carefully cleaned and labeled bones of all sizes behind the glass. They all looked too clean to have been battle trophies, and Sweetgrass wondered where she'd gotten them.
"It's illegal to collect Imperial remains." Sweetgrass murmured.
"That's why, legally, it was a joke."
Sweetgrass went silent at this, preening her tailfeathers awkwardly while Heather unlocked her pantry. Presumably it was her pantry, there were a number of doors against the back wall, all locked and heavily insulated to prevent cross-contamination. She was powerfully curious what was behind all of them, but none of the doors seemed to be labeled.
"What all do you do here?" Sweetgrass edged.
"Preserve dead things," Heather called from the pantry, "the teas and herbs are my most popular product, but I can do preservation of all kinds, including pressing, canning, curing, tanning, taxidermy, you name it. If it was once living, I've got the means and know-how to give it purpose in death."
"What are the skulls' purpose?"
"I like them. That's just my own personal hoard. Everybody's gotta have something."
Sweetgrass thought back to the hundreds of suncatchers strung all across her ceiling and found that she couldn't really judge Heather's hoard. At least they were sterile.
But it seemed like everywhere her eyes landed, there was something dead. Furs draped over a pile of small bones that seemed to serve as a bed, framed pressed flowers on the shelf, the heads of all manner of stuffed creatures decorating the walls, a vase of papery, dead, brown ferns on the mantle, a wooly walrus pelt rug with the tusks still attached, and dozens of twined together bundles of drying plants hanging from the rafters. It looked like she hammered up the dead bouquets in a different spot each time, the ceiling beams were positively riddled with holes.
The Wildclaw dragged the tea crate out of the pantry, and seemingly caught Sweetgrass ogling the ceiling.
"Those ones are still drying."
Sweetgrass nodded absently. Breaking her inspection of the rafters, she met Heather's eyes, and found herself struck by the sight of a nosebleed running down the Wildclaw's snout.
"Oh, Eleven! Are you okay? What happened?" She scrambled over and unfurled her scarf, offering it for Heather as a handkerchief.
"What? Oh," Heather grumbled, touching her snout lightly, "this happens a lot. Side effect of the trade, y'know. Dry air." She took Sweetgrass's scarf and wiped a good amount of blood onto it. Sweetgrass had been secretly hoping Heather would refuse it, and she silently mourned for her scarf.
"Just gotta make sure none of it gets on Charlie, there."
"Charlie? Oh..." Sweetgrass trailed off. Charlie must be the rug's name.
"I'm probably gonna be nursing this for a little while, you can take the poison tea, I'll haggle with Ditto about the prices in person later. Thanks for the hankie, kid."
"Of course."
"And if you see Myth or Deadwood or Hurricane..." Heather started. Sweetgrass could feel the Wildclaw's eyes on her back.
"Let them know I'd like to have a word with them."
Awakened:
Auburn Wooly Walrus,
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.
Feed this dragon Meat.
This dragon doesn't eat Seafood.
This dragon doesn't eat Plants.
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Exalting Heather to the service of the Windsinger will remove them from your lair forever. They will leave behind a small sum of riches that they have accumulated. This action is irreversible.
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