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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
6.74 m
Wingspan
10.41 m
Weight
948.15 kg
Genetics
Moon
Lionfish
Lionfish
Moon
Morph
Morph
White
Ghost
Ghost
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Coatl
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
6
AGI
7
DEF
6
QCK
7
INT
7
VIT
5
MND
6
Biography
@XxCalypsoxX
Kids = 200g/equiv
Kids = 200g/equiv
The Awakening
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“Coatls with white plumage are bad news!” “Look at them, how dare they accept how they look!” “Don’t stare, little ones. Or their bad luck will fall on you.” Victor once didn’t believe the nonsense about Coatls with white plumage. He thought it was alienating, cruel, and disrespectful. Hatchlings being tossed out like trash due to their appearance hurt Victor’s heart when he would hear the stories. The unkind words other Coatls would whisper under their breaths–loud enough for him to hear yet quiet enough to still be called a whisper–at the sight of him and his family. His own clan looked at him and his family funny, while they didn’t ostracize them, they weren’t entirely too welcoming. Victor hated it all, and he grew up with resentment in his heart. Until the war happened. The resentment became sadness, emptiness, and loneliness. It ached for his family, now gone from the harsh war. None of them survived, even his clan, except for him. It had to be a cruel twist of fate that he was the only one to live after the smoke cleared and the fighting was done. And for once, he agreed with the superstitious Coatls, and that only made his heart ache even more. With no home to go back to, Victor wandered the lands of Sornieth, with no plan and no goal. Many dragons have seen the blankness of his eyes and the ghastly traits of his appearance and stayed away from him, thinking that he would cause them harm if they tried to engage. Only a few were kind enough to offer him food or drink whenever he passed, and Victor wasn’t one to refuse a free meal. Sometimes they would offer him a place to stay, to rest his travel-weary feet yet the Coatl would refuse. He was a bad omen, a sign of bad luck. He couldn’t bear to be a reason for ill luck to befall the kind stranger’s life due to helping him. So, he kept wandering, his mind blank, his eyes vacant, and no path to follow from. Victor didn’t care to know where he was going, nor did he hear the warnings from passing dragons telling him about the Terror of the Tangled Wood. He kept walking until the flash of red eyes and the snapping of sharp, white teeth snapped him out of his reverie. She looked like him. |
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Except she didn’t really look like him. She was a Wildclaw who owned a pair of blood-red eyes. The only thing that they shared was similar colors and markings. But something in Victor began to bubble up, and that something happened to be positive–for once. “What do you think you are doing?” Victor rasped, his voice unused until now, monotone yet with a slight hint of mirth laced into it. The Wildclaw looked at him in shock, as if what he said slapped her in the face, and she growled at him in anger. The Coatl’s face morphed into one of confusion, the change in the Wildclaw’s expression shocked him. Was it something he said? “Did I say something wrong? Why did you try to scare me? You…you look just like me.” That seemed to be the wrong thing to say, the Wilclaw snapping her teeth at him once more. “I am nothing like you! I am the Terror of the Tangled Wood! You being here will ruin my reputation! Why are you here?” Oh so she’s the Terror, it all made sense to him. She was the one who traveling dragons were afraid of, who was causing trouble for anyone who wanted to pass through. Victor the incredulous whispers of others as he continued on without any real thought of his safety. Dragons talk, they always have and always will, it wasn’t something Victor wasn’t used to. The Coatl figured that the Wildclaw didn’t want to be bothered, so he said nothing and turned his back on her to wander another way. She didn’t like that either–being ignored that is–Victor finding himself buried under piles of bones on one too many occasions. Wherever he was, she somehow was also there, her red eyes trained on his face as if her stare would cause him to tremble in fear. Victor paid her no mind, in fact, he thought she was funny and often engaged in conversation with her, even when he couldn’t see her. The Wildclaw–Elsa was her name–slowly opened up to him, her one-sided dislike turning into curiosity and later, a connection. They bonded over their shared experiences, Victor losing his clan and family to the war while Elsa lost hers due to a plague. They laughed together, mourned together, and shared comfort together, Victor’s heart being filled with something that wasn’t despair. It was love. And because of love, he didn’t have to wander anymore.
Lore by pulchritudinous
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Exalting Victor to the service of the Shadowbinder 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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