MapleStripe

Prompt: A lone dragon trying to find her place in a cruel and illogical world. Shade-touched.

MapleStripe snarled at the pile of tan, leathery paper canvases that sat on her desk. Each one was decorated with a unique and intricate scry of her own natural colors. Frustration gathered in her seething, mourning mind. The mirror reared her head and tore the papers apart with her claws. With a loud, rumbling growl. But as she turned to stalk away from her ruined artworks, MapleStripe found herself staring into a mirror laid against the side of the office wall. And yet, as she looked deeper, she felt dissatisfaction creep back into her heart. It wasn't her genes, or her breed. She hoped a change would help this feeling, this hatred she held so close for so long. Something was wrong with her. She just knew it. She didn't know what it was, or how she could ever cope with it. But every time she saw herself she just wanted to shut her eyes and tear herself away from the image. It was as though her brain refused to associate itself with her own body. And she despised the feeling almost as much as she despised herself for not openning the letter Ron left for her before his passing. Her dear brother. She desperately tried to push the thought from her mind.